ONE : Changing Winds

ONE

Changing Winds


Hey there, my name is Urik Keyis. the current year is 2137. In the last hundred years humanity has been lucky enough to watch science fiction become science fact. With the most important being the public release of hyper light drives. I mean, they’ve been around for ages in military applications, but now, since their public release a trip to the other side of the galaxy is nothing particularly special; just a simple matter of well calibrated coordinates and the pull of a lever.

Law enforcement has changed a hell of a lot as well lately. It’s had to just to keep up. The biggest change has been the rise of Orion, the very first Inter-Galactic Law enforcement agency. Following closely behind their rise to power has been some pretty incredible enforcement tech. Arguably, the most impressive is our digital interfacing ocular implants. The implants have seriously revolutionized things for guys like me; facial recognition at a glance, whole damn file look up for any citizen or perp in an instant from any corner of the civilized -galaxy.

Of course at this point you’re probably just wondering who the hell I am and why I’m giving you a rundown of modern tech in the galaxy. Well, to be honest. I’m in a bit of a rough, maybe going to die kind of spot at the moment and I’m feeling like doing a little sharing. Don’t worry too much about that right now, we’ll get to the beginning of this story in just a minute.

First, I feel like I should let you know how and where this whole situation started spiraling out of control. All of this madness began on my home planet, and Orion’s base planet, Achaia. Now, you need to know something about Achaia; it’s an interestingly delicate place, just short of everyone relies on it and it’s facilities, and it relies on just short of everyone else.

Nearly the entire planet is covered in city-scape and Orion vessel repair facilities. All these facilities and housing make Achaia pretty damned important, vessel repair facilities are incredibly difficult to build, maintain, and staff since interplanetary vessels and hyper light drives are such relatively new technology.

Unfortunately, the same things that make Achaia so necessary don’t really leave a whole lot of room for the essential basic life stuff. You know, like trees, grass, and farms. Due to this distinct lack of natural life, the whole planet relies VERY heavily on shipments from all six planets allied with Orion.

Alright, at this point I feel like I’ve done enough scene setting and catching up for us to jump into this magical grand story I’ve been promising. I’ll just start us off in my apartment in the central most Achaian city, Treclaidia.

Not surprisingly, the day where the whole damn galaxy started spiraling down into terrorist riddled fear fest actually started out as a relatively normal one. Well, normal for me any way. You see, as far as daily routines and behaviors go mine could be construed as “odd” or “obsessive”. In reality I am obsessive, I’m obsessed with details, always have been since I was a child; that obsession only grew when I joined the investigative arm of Orion. Every single morning starts the same way for me, I wake and without pause walk to my bathroom, grab my razor, then scan every hair on my face to insure that not a single on is longer than two inches. After guaranteeing perfection over my entire beard, I proceed to part my hair on the left and take care that there aren’t any stray, awkward hairs.

Ordinarily, at this point in the morning I would carry on to the kitchen, get myself something to eat before the day starts, grab my OK-907 Jacket and OB-50 pistol, then head right out the door. Not today though, today just moments after completing my morning grooming I heard an intense rapping on my door, accompanied by the voice of a young woman’s screams, “Help!” Almost instantly my instincts as an Orion detective took over.

Already well outside the door frame of my bathroom, I proceeded to sprint towards my front door making sure to grab my pistol on the way. Within several extended strides I made it to the door slammed my hand down on the glassteel bio lock to the left of the door and with my other hand readied my OB-50 to my chest.

The moment my hand left the scanner it felt as though everything went into slow motion. As the faint hiss of the doors hydraulics rang through my apartment I could almost feel the tiny pressure wave caused by the speed and force of the two panels separating from one another. As soon as the panels opening reached a width of around twenty three millimeters the ocular scanner in my left eye was able to start profiling the person outside my door. To my surprise, the first thing the scanner began writing on my readout was "Male. "

I had little time to process my confusion for the moment the door was halfway open all I could see was a tall man in a black hooded jacket holding an over sized, late model pistol level to my head. My implant painted a red glowing line through the crack in the door on my readout which predicted the trajectory of the shot he was to fire.

On reaction alone I dropped to the floor as quickly as possible and pulled the trigger on my own pistol. A forceful burst of bluish-white energy quickly exploded out of the barrel and in an instant slammed into the man’s chest. Much to my own confusion, the shot only caused the man to stumble as all its energy wrapped around his body, through his coat, then arced away into the wall behind him.

I had only just enough time to hit the floor and recover, being sure to cross my legs in the shape of a four so I could quickly get back to my feet if need be. While I recovered my assailant used the opportunity to do the same. With remnants of my pistols energy blast still arcing through his coat and away from his body; the man stepped forward, leading with his right leg. He then proceeded to outstretch his pistol arm, with the barrel directly in line with my torso. With an almost robotic resolve, the assailant began pulling the trigger on his pistol. He fired shot after shot, each one ringing out through my apartment like thunder until seven separate shots were fired.

I did my best to avoid each of his bullets by following my scanners readout, rolling left and right to keep away from the glowing red line. I was successful for the first three shots but the fourth ripped through my left shoulder. It felt like a hand full of red hot razors dragging their way through my flesh.

Under normal circumstances I would have been wearing my OK-907 which would have easily stopped most projectile rounds. All I can think is either this guy knows my schedule; and was able to plan his attack before I was ready for the day or he’s just the luckiest son of a bitch I’ve ever seen.

I was able to avoid his last three shots and propped myself with my left arm. It burned and ached like a bitch, but I needed the support to get a good shot on the guy. Ignoring the pain as much as possible I readied my pistol once again; this time aiming for the man’s shins.

I fired three shots, the first was to his left leg since it was further back and had less weight resting on it. This caused his his leg to fly back with quite a significant force and his torso to slump forward as he tried to catch his balance. My second shot was placed on his right leg. The shot sent his leg back just like with his left and sent his body flying into the air with some backwards force. Now the top of his head was exposed, facing flat towards me; I took advantage of the opportunity by placing my final shot on the crown of his head.

Immediately after pulling the trigger, I watched the shot through it’s entire journey from the barrel of my gun until it landed dead center on the top of the assailants head just slightly closer to his forehead. The impact of the blast caused his body to flip forwards, his head to throw sparks and smoke, and finally leaving him lying on his back...










TWO

A Violent Storm


I let my injured arm rest at my side after seeing my assailants body lying on the floor; being sure to keep my pistol in the fire-ready position in my other hand.

Before I had the chance to approach the body and find out his mission and who sent him; I heard a group of people who I can only assume are law enforcement responding to the noise. Moments after the initial boot stomping down the hall three men came from the left side of the hallway and three came from the right side; presumably in an attempt to pinch my now dead assailant. Each of the men were wearing standard issue Orion crisis gear; titanium-carbon weave jacks and nano-particle steel helmets with tech readouts almost as detailed as my own.

At this point it was clear to me that this was not an isolated incident; ordinarily, Orion never gears out their officers like this unless it’s for a high level terror event.

Once the officers made it to my door four of the men trained their weapons on the corpse while the fifth started inspecting the body and the sixth began to approach me, very clearly surprised that I was still breathing. The officer confronting me was obviously new to the force as I could see his brown, panicked eyes darting back and forth as he examined the data on his observational readout.

After an incredibly brief moment the officer realized my name and position then proceeded to stiffen his posture and address me, “Investigator Keyis, are you alright?”

Initially I was confused as I had almost forgotten about the wound I received earlier. After collecting my thoughts and finding the young man’s name through my implant I responded, “Yes, Officer Magsun, I’m fine; just some psycopath looking for blood.”

Magsun’s face was immediately flooded with concern, “Well, Investigator...” He paused for a moment, trying to collect himself before continuing, “This... This wasn’t a single occurrence.”

“What do you mean?” I responded, as earlier I had only hoped that Orion had just changed protocol and started sending officers in full gear; after all, I hadn’t been part of the officer’s corps in quite some time.

“Sir, it seems that some cult has been confirmed to have committed at least nine separate attacks just this morning”

On the inside it felt like my heart sank straight down to my feet, I hoped internally against all hope that this was nothing more than some random assassin hired by someone I put away sometime in the past. Trying my best to conceal my internal panic and devastation I replied with a stone cold detached voice, “Who?”

Still very apparently shaken himself from the morning’s events and slightly stunned from my relatively vague and immediate response, Magsun replied, “Who, Sir?”

I snapped back immediately, “Who was killed? I want a list, first to last report, names and stations.”

Magsun’s posture tightened even further, finally realizing the true weight of this days events.

“Yes sir, I’ll compile the list immediately.” Magsun let out with as much confidence and surety as he could muster.

I replied to him as calm as possible, attempting not to worry him further, “Good, let me know the second the list is prepared.”

Magsun saluted me and went straight off to compile the list of important dead; I went over to the group surrounding my now deceased assailant. I took three steps toward the group and immediately the man examining the body stood to greet me.

The man before me was a bit taller than the rest of his unit and a little broader chested; green eyes with ice white hair in a standard high and tight cut.

The ice haired man spoke with surety and professionalism, “Greetings, Investigator Keyis. I see you’re one of the lucky few among the elite to survive this day’s events.” After his greeting he looked at me longer than usual, with an accompanying grin; as if he expected me to recognize him.

Sure enough, I did; the man standing before me was Alex Van Noy. Alex and I went to the Orion Investigator Success School; essentially nothing more than a confirmation school for all freshly graduated investigators to attend. Alex dropped out of the success school once he realized how many augmentations would have to made to him. You see, Alex was always a little more of a biological fundamentalist; he never was a big fan of implants, injections, or any serious form of augmentation.

Next Chapter: TWO : A Violent Storm Brews