Phoenix - Part 2

  Combat Commander Donald Moncha strode down the gleaming silver corridors of his home in space - the good ship 'Curadh' - a vessel best described as a gleaming white sphinx with long runways in place of feet and a towering bridge for a head, an awkward mix of a design philosophy suited for water-bourn warships and the more modern ideals of space combat.

  Moncha had been assigned to the ship since its maiden voyage; he was known to all aboard, who saluted and made polite small talk as he passed them by. He wasn't exactly in a bad mood, but certainly not a good one.

  It had been a mere six months since the Curadh had found itself at the forefront of a grizzly guerrilla war - they had lost a lot of good men, including their Captain - now having joined a new elite unit being called 'TSU-s' (very much so against Moncha's wishes), they were once more going into battle.

  He stepped into one of the many identical doorways lining the corridor and glanced around the room. Briefing room three was a fairly mundane affair, long and narrow, filled with rows of uncomfortable plastic chairs and with a projected screen on the front wall. The Curadh had two much nicer rooms but the new captain insisted on using this one.

  The chairs were already filled, but that hardly bothered Moncha; not giving any sort of apology, he pointedly stomped his way over to the last empty chair. Sitting down next to two bodybuilder-looking men, fellow Vijaik mech-pilots who had served alongside him in the recent conflict - second lieutenants Yazan and Gemon.

  Standing at the front of the room was their new leader, Captain Marie Synapse. She didn't glare at him or scowl. She was far above such petty retribution to punish Moncha's arriving late - instead, she simply turned to the screen behind her and began giving the briefing as though the meeting had always been intended to start ten minutes late.

  It wasn't long before Moncha and just about everyone in the room's jaws hit the floor.

  "-- After it escaped the research vessel 'Shelly', Phoenix has primarily continued with its original programming, hunting down a small sect of dissidents in this section here," the Captain stated after explaining the basic facts, pointing to a section on a map of the solar system.

  An engineer in a row behind Moncha, cautiously raised a hand to ask a question; "But Ma'am, surely it will run out of power soon?"

  The Captain nodded to the man, "No, The Phoenix was designed to be self-sufficient. It can acquire fuel and repair resources from the units it attacks - and having no living pilot does not require food or oxygen intake."

  She turned to the projector, which swapped to a heavily censored blueprint of the rouge mech, “One engaged The Phoenix yesterday. His squad was wiped out, and he is in critical condition. This enemy is not to be taken lightly.”

  ‘Tch, Jackson’s a lizard of a man, but he didn't deserve that,’ Moncha mused bitterly.

  He was the next to speak up, not raising a hand, "So just to summarise Cap'ain, TSU-s want us, alone, to hunt down and destroy a rouge experimental Casnel - a machine which by your account is nearly forty metres tall, covered in the near-invincible metal Goibniu, has an artificial brain inside that can supposedly read the future and has so far destroyed any mechs, fighters and warships that have dared to come close to it? Ma'am?!"

  The Captain fixed her level gaze on Moncha - "Yes, Major, that is an adequate if somewhat dramatic summation - there will be further combat briefings in 2 hours. For now, you are all dismissed. Begin having all sections prepare for combat. That is all."

  And like the briefing ended as fast as it had begun.

  Hesitantly, the few dozen collected officers of the ship began to filter out of the meeting room, many sparing concerned glances towards the Captain and then the Major. It had not, in Moncha's opinion, been a very good briefing.

  When the previous captain had given one, there would be moments of levity; people could talk freely, argue freely, and hash out ideas and concerns. This meeting had been quick, cold and efficient - Moncha was not impressed. He stood in front of his chair, stocky arms crossed in front of him, but he made no move for the door. Instead, he glared forward at the Captain, who stood conversing with her aide.

  After a few minutes, almost everyone was gone - Moncha's two wingmen offered him worried looks before leaving, followed by the Captain's aide.

  Then there were two.

  "Well, what was that then?" Moncha said after a minute of painful silence.

  "I intend to discuss the matter more prominently with you later, Major. You are, after all, my Combat Commander, yes? This meeting was simply to inform each section of the news."

  She replied flatly. She had the old Captain’s face, that Moncha knew deep down, was what got on his nerves so much. Every time he looked at her, he saw old Synapse, his friend, the man TSU had used as a scapegoat. The face they’d literally chopped off…

  Moncha took a step closer to the Captain - he was a large man, over 6 foot, muscular - the Captain, in contrast, was in her fifties, with grey hair and a few signs of her age & stressful lifestyle beginning to show. Yet, to Moncha's ongoing annoyance, it always felt like she towered over him. He was a mountain compared to her height and frame, but even now, her icy-cold eyes and steadfast composer made him feel like the smaller person.

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  "I told you this would happen. I said we shouldn't join TSU-s! A few weeks with them, and they're already sending us on a death charge?"

  The Captain paused - "Perhaps. It could indeed be a test to prove if we are dedicated to this new special forces unit - in which case we shall simply pass the test."

  Moncha bristled - "Are you actually mad? We have three Vijaiks. We couldn't beat an ordinary Casnel, but you want us to go up against some behemoth super mech thing! And even if we can, what for?

  Why do you so badly want us to join this blasted elite group, whose first act, need I remind you, was to execute your Father!!"

  What annoyed him most in the many conversations they'd had like this over the last couple of months was her total lack of reaction when he brought up the ship's previous Captain - no flinch or biting back, just a cool rebuttal, "States-Union command would have seen this vessel dismantled and its crew scattered had we not volunteered for TSU-s, you know that to Major."

  "And how would that be worse than us all getting killed for nothing? Do you think this will protect your Father's legacy? By charging yourself and this whole ship towards death?"

  The Captain finally allowed herself a small sigh before going on - "I had intended to discuss this with you properly before the next briefing. I suppose now is as good a time as any. Firstly, there will be more than three of you. The Phoenix is currently chasing a small group of Remembrance survivors through the site of a previous battlefield - we believe they were scavenging for parts."

  "So?"

  "So Major, four of this squad have fallen, but two others have been on the run from Phoenix for nearly five days. To pull that off, they must be highly skilled. In fact, intelligence suggests their leader to be the woman known only as 'The Scarlet Scourge', who we believe to now be the field commander and first-ranked of Remembrance following its last commander's recent demise."

  That name at least did give Moncha some pause; six months ago, the war with Remembrance had ended when most of the rebelling fleet was wiped out, and the majority of its mech had committed to a kamikaze attack lead by their field commander and ace among aces, The Bane of Konpei.

  The Scarlet Scourge had been the next highest-ranking ace & officer of the group and led the retreat - At this point, it was generally agreed she was the best pilot Remembrance had left to offer. Moncha had fought against Remembrance’s other aces during the war and knew their strength quite possibly better than anyone else. Moreover, the area being a battle site would provide plenty of coverage, which would be advantageous for a close-quarters specialist like Moncha.

  "And since when do pirates or rebels team up with us - and besides, what's five Vijaiks going to do against this Phoenix? Face it, Captain, we need to call time. Ask for reinforcements, and if we can't get those from our new masters, then go above their heads and ask the regular navy. We can still call in some old favours; Vice Admiral Louise would aid us unofficially if needed."

  "No, Major, there isn't time - Intelligence believes The Phoenix to be a new-born of sorts; for years, it has followed strict programming - now that it has broken free of that, it is rapidly learning a whole new way of existence - the longer we take to subdue it, the more intelligent it gets. Who knows what it will attack next once it finishes off the rebel units? Right now is likely the only time it will ever have a weakness."

  "And how is that our problem? Isn’t that all the more reason a whole fleet should be handling this?!" Moncha shot back, growing more frustrated.

  The Captain allowed herself the smallest of frowns, "Honestly? I suppose it isn't; people will die, but that is always true. People are always dying, and we are just one small group of soldiers who happen to have slightly more autonomy than most."

  "Exactly--"

  "But, I believe it is right that we do this - TSU-s is also in its infancy. We have a chance to set the precedence for what it will become. Many want it to be little more than an oppressive force, using terror to prevent any further rebellions, no more than Luitpold’s officially sanctioned thugs. I would see it used otherwise. I believe we have a duty to right the wrongs of our past. The Phoenix is the prime example. Its artificial brain was once a human, an innocent civilian no less - who our military tore apart, experimented on and mutilated in a desperate attempt to stop the First War - only to not finish in time even to complete the thing.

  That girl and many more like her were murdered for the sake of us, Donald. We didn't ask for it, no, we didn't even know it was happening, so maybe you are right, maybe it has nothing to do with us - but I would see to it we be better than that, take the chance at life we were given to right the past, bring peace to at least one little girl torn from her life for our unknowing sakes.

  I believe that's what my father died doing, too, trying to right the past, and perhaps someday we can do the same for him - but right now, this is what I firmly believe needs to be done. Will you help me with that, Major Moncha?"

  The Major stared slack-jawed at the woman. She had never been so open with him in all their 'debates' before this. For the first time, he truly felt like he was talking to the daughter of his hero, that charismatic, unwavering 'goodness'.

  He had never really understood it or cared that much for justice and such abstract concepts, but when the old captain gave speeches, it stirred him; he’d been happy to follow any plan. Now, once again, he wondered why he had even disagreed in the first place.

  He stood down.

  "Fine, fine, whatever. It’s madness, but you're the boss," he said, scratched his ear, slouched his shoulders and made for the door to leave. Captain Synapse called out just before he could reach it, "Oh and Major, one last thing; we have more than just three Vijaiks - an old friend of yours has returned. It is waiting for you in the hangar bay."