Roshma Book 1: The First Steps

The next morning, I heard a banging on my door. I got up despite still being in my boxers and only half awake. When I answered the door I saw the men in black suits again. I could tell they were military and highly trained by the Ar-57’s that hung from their belts. No formalities here, they didn’t even say hello, but instead cut straight to business saying, “The Zatt government requires that you come with us for assessment.” I had no idea what was going on and I didn’t necessarily like this, but this was my chance and all of my time previous in Mako city was leading up to this moment.

I got ready as fast as possible, threw some stuff in a back pat and was about to walk out the door when one of the men stopped me. He held out his hand. Inside the palm was a small red pill, a curious pill. He said, “Take this pill and then come with us.” It was at this point I considered incapacitating the men and making a run for it

I asked him what it did, and he said, “It was to maintain secrecy.” I excused myself to the kitchen, to get some water. They followed me into the kitchen to make sure I didn’t try any funny business. I didn‘t know what the pill was, or what it would do to my body; but I took a drink open my mouth dropped the pill in. Here’s to secrecy. I swallowed down the strange pill. It went down smooth. I felt fine. We walked to my front porch and then I collapsed.

When I came to there was a giant wall surrounding me. My “attackers” were also standing above me. It must have been I pretty strong sleeping pill because I had no idea where I now was. I was angry with them and let them know it, “Wasn’t that a little excessive you could have just blindfolded me or something.”

They responded, “You ungrateful brat, we’re giving you the opportunity of a lifetime. The enemy can’t find out about his place and we’ll go to whatever measures no matter how extreme they seem.” The assessment of course were a tryout to be part of a special task force. There were about 20 guys and about five girls all with special abilities. To be honest, camp was really boring. The first day we did an obstacle course and participated in some mock combat situations like disarming attackers. There was also a part where we went to the shooting range. I sucked at that part. If I didn’t get the job it would be because of guns. Guns and I, we didn’t really get along.

Next thing I knew, it was dinner time. I was walking through the dining hall when I saw something I couldn’t believe. It was Jon McElroy, another one of my friends form Desantiago that wasn’t dead. He moved out of the Desantiago a long time ago when his house was burned down. He was a small, frail man with blonde hair worn in some kind of hipster hairstyle long bangs short everywhere else. The hair was accompanied by piercing blue eyes that were solemn and wise beyond their years. Jon was not a happy man when I met him and apparently, nothing had changed. He still had a scowl on his face. Upon seeing him sitting at a table all alone and I said, “Hey Jon, I got some friends here come set with us.”

If he was shocked to see me he didn’t show it. He didn’t even smile and said, “I don’t really want to move, but I have a feeling you’re not going leave me alone until I do. One the bright side, these friends can’t be any worse than friend from the desert. What do I have to lose?” That was not the greeting I expected from a long lost friend and it was clear Jon still harbored a posthumous hatred for the Late James Sergio.

After some searching, I found Mott, A.J. and eventually, the rest of the crew. I tried introducing Jon to my friends but they weren’t too sure about him. He was a bit of an odd ball. I was his only friend growing up.

I got my room assignments, and I kid you not I got stuck in the worst room! Everyone in my room were kind of tools. The king of the “toolshed” was Scott Brenner. He spent most of his time bragging about how good of a fighter he was. Scott’s dad was a famous scientist and Scott was a spoiled brat. He had spiky red hair, a bunch of tattoos, and though I hated to admit it, he looked cool. I was wasn’t justified in my feelings towards him but felt them anyway.

Then came the justification. Right before I went to bed I prayed, silently mind you. I’m a pious man but I don’t cram it down people’s throat. As soon as I finished and got into bed Scott Brenner opened his mouth, “You know your God, Elohim, isn’t real. We can travel the solar system at light speed but your precious God is nowhere to be found. I really hate fools like you who believe in illogical crap like that. Luckily this world is run by logical people like me, or we’d still be stuck in the Stone Age.”

First off, why did he say that? I wasn’t even talking to him I had done nothing but say hi to him since I had got here. Most non-believers were polite when dealing with believers. I put up with all of his crap stories too. What nerve this guy had. I should have thought up something better but instead I just said, “Hey, I can see you like to go around starting fights, do you want me to hit you in the face?” Should have thought more about that one before it came out of my mouth.

He smirked, “Yah I do, but you probably won’t because your religion teaches you to cower in fear before your enemies, turn the other cheek and have them strike you.” I angrily retorted, “Well I think I’d have to make an acceptation in your case

The fighting tournament was today, and it was the best part of camp by far. In the first round, my opponent would be a girl. I didn’t know how to fight a girl. Was it sexiest to hit a girl? Then again was it sexiest not to hit her just because she was a girl? My mind was quickly changed by a karate chop to the throat. Luckily, the match was first to three hits. I ended up winning, then and won my next two matches too. It was hot and sweat drenched my entire body, it was time for a well-earned break. I was confident in my own chances for being selected, but I didn’t know about all of my friends especially Westcon. Out of our group he was the weakest.

The next two fights I watched were interesting to say the least. Jon was fighting a really small guy who was jacked. He had muscles I didn’t know existed. The guy tried to charge Jon, but Jon picked him up with his mind and threw him to the ground. I knew he had telekinetic powers, but I didn’t know the extent of his powers until now. I hoped we didn’t come face-to face, he was scary. How do you fight against that?

There was a lot of buzz going around about a fighter from a small moon trading outpost, Praxis 8. His name was Jin-Sou Gillespie. He didn’t look like much, probably the most average person I had ever seen. He had short brown hair and an average build and height. His face was plain as well with no features that really stood out one would have a hard time picking him out of a crowd. On the contrary, his fighting style was quite unique. Many of the other combatants were having a hard time countering it. I wanted to meet Mr. Gillespie as we might be working together in the near future.

It was also at this time that everyone was rushing over to Arena three for the fight of the century, Mott vs. Jin-Sou. All of these hot sweaty bodies clumped together made for a miserable experience. It was really stuffy but it was also worth it to see a fight this hyped. As far as the fighters themselves, they were pretty even, blocking each other’s strikes. Then Jin did some weird foot motion. I thought he was striking from the left, but he ended up striking from the right hitting Mott in the face. I heard someone in the crowd say, “Wow, that’s the first time Mott’s been hit all day.” I still believed Mott had this.

Turns out I was right, Mott threw out a barrage of punches and got the next two hits. Jin got lucky and hit him once more; but, at the same time Mott delivered a haymaker that knocked him out of the ring. Mott won; they shook hands and all was well.

After the fight some guys came up to Mott; apparently he had been chosen to be on this exclusive team, the first of seven. Later that day, A.J. was chosen as well as Jon. Finally, the Alpha Star was about to go and the final match of the day was about to start myself vs. Shodon, both undefeated, but only one of us would leave the fight that way. I was nervous; this guy was my friend. He was shy and quiet but those were the types that could catch you off guard.

We both charged each other. His first strike was an uppercut. It was very cleanly executed, I almost didn‘t dodge it. Our speed was about even. I watched his feet and could tell he was going for a kick. I ducked the kick and swept the leg, first hit me. We kept fighting. Now it was two to two, and we were both bleeding a little bit. His defense was really strong. I couldn’t get too close. But I decided to go for a kick which he tried to block, but it was too quick. He fell to the ground and spit up some blood. I helped him up, “Sorry about that man.”

He said, “No it’s okay, you’re the better fighter for now but we’ll have to fight again in the future.” Soon after, I was told I made the squad. The rest of the fights were supposed to be tomorrow, but there was a change in plans. I had to wonder what’s the rush? They let us finish up the school year while thousands of young Zatts were out there dying on the battlefield and now we were in a hurry?

The matches continued. Jin won his match and now he was going to be part of the crew. Then it stated to rain, and most everyone else went inside broken and defeated. I stayed to see who else was going to make the squad -the best of the best. Plus, the rain was refreshing after a hot day. I hardly ever had seen rain in my whole life. It almost never rained in Desntiago.

It rained all the time in Mako City, but the giant energy field made sure none ever touched the ground. It instantly became steam as it hit the shield. I stood there in the rain just soaking it all in.

The next was fight was between Westcon and some girl with short blonde hair in the style of a pixie cut. Westcon was disqualified for grouping the female combatant. I joke. It was actually a good fight, and they were pretty evenly matched. She was a lot more graceful than him; he slipped in a puddle of water that had accumulated in the middle of the arena while dodging one of her attacks.

Westcon was her opposite, reckless and relentless. He over-pressured her winning three to two. However, if this would have been a fight to the death, she would have stood no chance against Westcon‘s sporadic yet powerful fighting style. This left one more spot open on the task force, but two people were still left to fight, Shodon vs. Brenner. I closed my eyes and prayed to Elohim, “Please help Shodon win this fight I don’t know if I’ll be able to work with Brenner for the rest of my life.” If he was being attacked by the enemy I don’t know if I would help him.

The two fighters stared each other down, both not wanting the make the first move. Then Brenner broke the stillness with a hard charge. Shodon dodged all of Brenner’s wild attacks; however, Brenner landed a punch in the stomach. He said something to Shodon, but I couldn’t make out exactly what it was. Shodon got the next point with the flying kick he had tried on me earlier. Brenner tried to blast Shodon from the ground, but Shodon shielded himself. A military official warned Brenner that if he did that again he would be disqualified.

Their tango continued and each got another hit. Both fighters battle blow for blow neither one gaining a clear advantage, and both were showing signs of tiredness. Then the most amazing thing I had seen all day happened. Shodon jumped up in the air, spun around 180 degrees and kicked Brenner right in the side of the head. A reversing roundhouse kick I had never seen one used in battle. Brenner fell to the ground unconscious, Shodon had won! I had vicariously gotten revenge on Brenner through Shodon. However, despite my earlier statements, I hoped Brenner wasn’t dead as he lie there unmoving.

Everyone prepared to leave now; camp was over, and the task force had been decided. It’s funny how life works out. When I was a child, I always wanted to be a writer. Now I was an adult and far from a writer, but I still felt a sense of accomplishment. Would the job be dangerous? Yes, but I got to work with all my friends every day. Somehow that justified this madness and put my mind at ease. I thought about it for a second Shodon, Westcon, Gillespie, McElroy, Hawkins, Janovanpopovich and Blixer. Maybe they would write about us in the history books one day.

Fame was only a pipe dream. Even if I were never famous, it would be nice if we could win this war. Then I could settle down, marry a nice girl, have some little Hawkins and maybe even write a book. I went back to my room to gather up my stuff, and on the bed opposite of me, I saw Brenner setting there with a bag of ice on his head -he lived.

I was not fond of him but felt obligated to ask, “Are you okay?”

He said, “No my head kind of hurts. I’ll never tell anyone else this, but you guys deserve this. You could change the world someday. They ended up giving me and that blonde girl, I think her name was Mia, fast-tracked positions. We get to join the military at the rank of Captain.”

I smirked and told him, “Well I’ll be praying for the head of yours that it heals so you can think right.” He looked kind of angry and under his breathe mutter, “Someone like you would.”

We all met outside in the middle of the camp. It was now very late, and the rain had stopped. Steam billowed up from the ground. A short man in a blue military coat told us to follow him. We followed him out of the fortress into a forest grove and boarded the ship. I don’t remember much about the trip, except the fact that we came to a check in station where some men ask us some questions before allowing us to pass through the shield barriers and proceed to enter the city. Once we passed into the city, I fell asleep.

I woke up in an unfamiliar place, it was dark and smelled of motor grease. I stumbled out of the ship, still half asleep. We were in a giant hanger. There were a bunch of airships lining the wall. Half of them looked like they had seen better days, and the other half wouldn’t make it off the ground. The place was dimly lit by hanging ceiling lamps, so I couldn’t get a great glance.

We exited the hanger through a small door on the side. Once outside, I realized where we were. This was the old Indratrial district that was practically a ghost town. It was where the poorest of the poor lived, the ghetto. The place made Foxwood look nice. The outside of the hanger was covered with graffiti, and I heard Mott say, “Home sweet home.” I guess this was close to where he used to live. It was still dark outside, and we had been flying like two hours.

We followed the man in blue over to a stack of crates. He asked, “Can you help me move these crates?” We informed him, “We’d be happy to help. We turned into only Jon somehow. He moved the crates with his mind. I remember the shocked look on the Bluecoat’s face, it was priceless. A Door was concealed under the crates. Reaching down our soldier friend punched in some numbers and then lowered his head until his eye was in range for a retina scan. This action caused the door the spring open. He turned to us and said his goodbyes, “I’m not coming along. Someone’s got to put the crates back, but you get on the tram. It will take you to headquarters where you will be briefed by colonel Polanski for your first mission.”

I thought to myself, “Wow first mission already, these people didn’t waste time.” It was a ladder which descended into the abyss. Seriously it took five minutes just to reach the bottom. A rail system and a single railcar waiting for us in the depths. Outside of the car was a cute girl in a business suit. She had long, dark brown hair and blue eyes.

She said, “Please board the train, it this will take us directly to headquarters.” We got on the train which was just a single transport car, so it was kind of a cramped fit for eight people.

Westcon couldn’t help himself. He saw an opportunity and he took it, “Hey girl, if you’re not doing anything tonight, you should come on over to my place. I’m going to be a big deal one day. You should take care of this opportunity while you have the chance.” She blushed and looked embarrassed. I saw Jin burst out in laughter.

I walked over to Jin to offer some advice, “Don’t laugh too much you’ll encourage him.” I was smiling as I introduced myself, “The name’s Tyerow Hawkins.”

He shook my hand, “Mine is Jin-Sou Gillespie. Go by Jin.”

Mott apologized to Westcon’s victim, “Sorry about my friend Westcon. He doesn’t get out much. We keep him on a pretty short leash. What’s your name by the way?” Westcon had a sour look on his face.

She doubled over laughing, “It’s okay, I knew what to expect from Westcon, I’ve heard about you from my cousin Katotta. The name is Jerrah Stevens, I’m the secretary to Colonel Polanski. A little word of advice, don’t be too cocky inside of headquarters. Most the people there are jealous of you all. It takes a long time to work one’s way up the ranks, most common soldiers never even get to step inside of our headquarters. The one’s that work here are spies and soldiers who have been in the field for 20 years before working here and you guys just march on in. Don’t get me wrong, Katotta likes you guys and you don’t seem so bad to me neither but you’re going to take a lot of heat from the others.” Thanks for the warning.

Jon spoke up which hardly ever happens, “Well it didn’t take you long to get here, and you look pretty young.”

She looked down and that ground not used to receiving so much praise in one day, “Oh well I’m just a secretary.” I couldn’t really tell if that was Jon trying to flirt or Jon simply asking a question? I spent the rest of my time on the train car pondering this and before I knew it we were at headquarters.

Headquarters was brilliant. There were rooms everywhere, and people bustling around from room to room, almost running through the halls. There were small offices with transparent windows where we saw meetings going on, as well as offices with blacked out windows. One window had people looking out of it. I could feel them looking, feel their distrust; and it made me uncomfortable.

At the end of the long hallway there was a giant room. In this room people frantically working at their office spaces, and to top it all off, a huge tower in the middle, projecting hologram screens all with different data on them. It was so loud I could hardly hear myself think. As we left that room, someone bumped into me I said, “Sorry.”

They replied, “Watch where you’re going squell.” Well that was rude but I shook it off. This was no place for the easily offended. The next floor up was where all the offices were of the higher-ups.

I had to ask, “Is it always this hectic here?”

She looked stressed as she answered, “Not quite but we are on red alert today. There is a terrorist in the city walls.” Well, at least that explained was there was such a rush to get through assessing the candidates. They needed to assemble a counter-terrorism unit and time was of the essence.

Our journey brought us to end of a hallway where there was a single door. On the door was a golden plague that read, “Col. Polanski” she put her hand on the sensor pad which scanned her palm. Then the door opened. On the inside of that door was another door. This one was much larger and made of steel. Behind the second door was an eloquent hallway that was lined with statues of soldiers each wearing different Zatt military uniforms throughout history. At the end of the hallway, I could see a desk. At this desk sit a fat man, smoking a smokestick. He had blue eyes, short white hair that he kept cut in a military style and a very stern face. Mott, being the kind of unofficial leader of the team, extended his hand for a handshake, “Nice to meet you Colonel.”

I was just about to meet the biggest jerk in my life. Oh I thought Brenner was pretty bad but this guy took the cake. The pompous colonel said, “I will not shake that hand, because I might pick up whatever disease ya’ll got that makes you freaks.”

Jon retorted, “It’s genetic, not viral or bacterial. You can’t get it through touch.”

Polanski looked as if he was going to explode now, “Giaka, McElroy shut up and don’t speak unless spoken to.”

From here he proceeded to go on a tirade, “I worked my way up from the bottom; I fought many enemies, and I know a little about war. I stayed alive through all the battles and was promoted to Colonel. Then this war started. I belonged out on the battlefield, but instead I got transferred down to this dungeon to baby sit some supernatural freaks.” He was now out of breath. We all just stared at each other, dumbfounded, “What did we ever do to this guy?”

The red started fading out of his face, “Okay, here’s your mission. A screen popped up. This guy here, Vaughn Rogers, was a small fry thief. Robbed some small banks nothing too huge though. We apprehended him about a year ago. He was broken out of prison six months ago but we thought nothing of it. The other day he and some of the Panamore Corp troops stormed one of the checkpoints and infiltrated Mako City. A couple people witnessed it, but we want to keep this one on the down low. We don’t know what they are planning, but it can’t be good. Luckily, one of our spies has found them; they are currently held up at an abandoned diner around Foxwood.”

Before thinking I chimed in, “I know exactly where that is.”

That set him off again too, “Shut up, don’t think just because I’ve worked with your daddy I won’t court-martial you. Your daddy was a freak too but he at least had respect his, hair didn’t look like he got struck by lightning on one side of his head.”

I hung my head and responded, “Yes sir.”

He continued, “You guys will take a ship there, even though it’s in the city limits. I don’t want you to get caught in morning traffic. Once you get there, the job is simple. Stop him from want ever he is doing. Kill him if you have to.”

Jin raised his hand almost scared to speak, “What about armor and weapons? We don’t know if his forces will be armed. I know they’re not very common anymore, but my energy shield won’t work against a steeloader.” (A gun that shoots good old fashion bullets).

He responded, “Well, I don’t have any armor made up for you, but I think there are some guns inside the ship.” We left the room and could have sworn I heard him say, “I hope you guys never come back.”

I asked Jerrah, “Is he always this way?”

She replied wearing sadness on her face, “No, in fact I’m really embarrassed, I’ve never seen him treat anyone like that.”

We traversed the winding corridors, got on another train and went to another train and then an elevator. This one led directly into a ship hangar. It was the first time we saw the ship we would use for our mission. She was rustic and had laser scars on its sides. A medium-sized ship, probably enough to accommodate 10 or 12, people but it was no star cruiser. I bet you it didn’t have a Ketone drive (an engine that allowed light-speed travel).

Jin ran over to the ships and pressed some button the hatch opened up. “I’m going to get this thing warmed up. You guys open the door, and pray there is a long runway because this ship doesn’t have the thruster capacity for direct lift-off.”

Everyone looked at him like he was crazy; they weren’t fond of being given orders by someone they hardly knew. Jin was fine with me I liked him though we’d only know each other about a day. I ran and opened up the doors, which were really heavy, should have hit the gym a little harder. The interior looked like it was about 100 years old. There was a kind of living room space in the middle of the ship, a bathroom and an artillery room. We raided it, but it only had a couple of handguns.

There was a scratchy sound akin to nails on a chalkboard. Turns out that was the ships intercom. No A.I. in this ship. This is captain Gillespie speaking, “Our destination is some tiny diner on the edge of town arrival time about ten minutes. Keep all hands and feet in the vehicle while in motion and enjoy your ride on the Crappy Cruiser.” The ship roared to life, luckily for us there was a runway, but I had no idea what part of the city we were in the navigation system just told us we were 10 minutes from our destination.

Now we were in the air and Mott said, “I got it.” At least that’s what I thought he said. So I shouted back, “Got what?” That Vaughn Rogers guy reminded me of someone I used to know. Then I remembered, I grew up with his son Michael Rogers on the streets, they look almost the same.”