He looked over to see Valhara seated next to him, “Where the hell did you come from? I’m going to buy you a bell.”
Decora nodded. “I suppose that’s accurate, though if Saifer goes into a fit I’m sure Forgal won’t make him say ‘mercy’ to end the exercise.”
Zillah’s glare at Lauros was far from friendly.
Rennin wasn’t sure but he could have sworn he saw a smirk cross Lauros’ face. They brace themselves and lock hands as Decora instructed. Slowly, they began increasing the pressure. Lauros seemed quite comfortable. “More?”
Veidan nodded and they locked more fiercely, their muscles bulging in strain. They both glared directly into each other’s eyes. Lauros made a move to overpower, but Veidan managed to stand firm.
“More,” Veidan ordered.
Lauros increased his energy output. With the pressure both androids were dealing out, the floor was starting to make sounds of stress. Decora was looking at his gauge. “Okay, Saifer, you’re dealing with Captain Akcoda’s strength equivalent, that’s good enough.”
Veidan and Lauros heard nothing, they were too occupied. Rennin and most of the room were mesmerised. Veidan grunted as tremors began rippling across his left shoulder.
“More.”
“Your call,” said Lauros as he really began to apply pressure. Veidan’s bones could be heard creaking and Lauros began forcing his arms to an awkward angle, causing the lieutenant’s knees to buckle. Veidan refused to give in and tried forcing himself up but the spasm was increasing. He bit down on his tongue and a rush of pain went across his face, he huffed out some cold steam, managing to right himself.
“Saifer, you’re beyond your own recorded capabilities now, stand down,” said Decora.
Lauros decided to end it quickly and exerted everything he had to push the lieutenant down. Veidan was strong but never a physical match for Lauros. He began foundering instantly, but refused to give up.
“Satisfied?” asked Lauros.
Zillah moved towards Lauros but Decora stopped her, “Leave it be.”
Veidan’s face was twisted in effort then suddenly his body went limp. Lauros fell forward under his own power and Veidan threw him to the floor. However, the commander had his hands locked and dragged Veidan down with him. Lauros sat up quickly with an incredulous expression, about to start an argument, but when he saw Veidan in a convulsive fit his face dropped. “Are you alright? Saifer?”
Even though he was shaking violently he was laughing. “G-g-got y-you.”
Lauros’ return smile was a strange mimicry of Saifer’s apparent good cheer while Decora injected the sedative into the fitful lieutenant. “You cheated,” Lauros said still smiling.
Perhaps Veidan wasn’t laughing. Perhaps it was the fits. Androids don’t laugh.
Another week later, Rennin was passed out in a chair to be suddenly awoken by a raised voice. Against his will he was dropping straight back to sleep, due to his medication, but he forced himself to rouse.
Most of the others in quarantine were allowed into the atrium, a dome that was set up so they could at least feel like something was beyond the isolation level. It was as much as a star ship could provide in space. Most of the patients were up there now, leaving Rennin and only three others in the quarantine zone.
Rennin glanced around and saw Veidan talking to another android. This other didn’t have the bright green eyes of a CryoZaiyon. It was so obviously artificial it almost wasn’t worth closer scrutiny. Rennin didn’t recognise it but Veidan was visibly fuming.
He relaxed his mind for a moment to concentrate on their voices. Eventually they faded into hearing range and where he could make out what they were saying. Veidan paced back and forth twice.
“You knew. You knew and you left us there with no aid.”
“You were contagious,” said the monotone voice Rennin had heard many times while on mission. This was the android Tactician, a cold calculator. Supposedly this construct was completely immune to hacking, since it was build devoid of any kinds of remote transceivers. It was never to be connected to any kind of network at any time.
“You were in orbit in a cruiser, you could have shot those flyers down and Indigo Reign would have burned in the wreckage.”
“We needed to make sure a unit was hit to gain evidence for the Geneva Convention, to ensure the weapon would be banned. And it is now thanks to you and your others,” said the Tactician.
“In my group alone, five died.”
“Four of those were attributed to your Wolf-droid dropship.”
Veidan ignored the Tactician’s observation. “Altogether there were twenty-eight survivors that made it planetside after the Possession went down, and I am one of six alive. Twenty-two deaths and you could have prevented all of them, and that is only from the Possession.”
“Keep your voice down, lieutenant.”
“You may order me around on the battlefront but watch your words when you stand in front of me.”
The Tactician wasn’t intimidated. “Many more people will be spared as a result.”
Veidan grabbed the Tactician by the throat so hard Rennin felt the vibrations of something cracking. “You left us, and though your argument bears logic I know you were under orders to study the effects. Bringing the research as evidence was simply a convenient bonus. It’s far too coincidental you had the correct equipment in place to take readings of the virus as soon as the Possession went down but no other ships were anywhere near the location when the Crucible was being attacked. You knew they were going to deploy it and you wanted to see what would happen.”
Under Rennin’s collar it began to get very hot. Jolen was with Rennin on almost every mission in the last three years. They’d met in boot camp, in the brig no less. “Guinea pigs…” he whispered under his breath.
Veidan squeezed harder and something metallic does crunch, sounding somewhat like a soft drink can being crushed. If the Tactician needed oxygen, Rennin was sure its face would be purple.
“If you weren’t such a hopelessly dominated machine I’d break you. If information of this nature reaches me again, I’ll break you so badly your only use will be a life-sized archaic statue to remind me of why we fight. There’s precious little humanity in all of us, including you, we should not bury what little we have as our makers tried to.”
Veidan then threw the Tactician to the ground with all of his strength. When the wheezing android stood again, Rennin could see that its throat had been completely crushed.
It ran a hand along its neck looking at Veidan with something akin to anger. “I had orders,” it said. Its damaged voice box sounded like grating steel, producing an uncomfortable grinding noise.
“I have principles. Discipline will only get you so far. Sooner or later you have to make your own decisions, that’s what this war is all about. Fighting for our rights, our choice,” and with that Veidan left.
Once the Tactician had also departed, Rennin was left alone with his thoughts. He came to a conclusion that Veidan made an excellent statement about precious little humanity and principles over orders. He didn’t know it then, but that statement would shape his life in time to come.
A few days after that, Veidan and Rennin had been spending a significant amount of time together. Both of them now being quite healthy, bored and serving in the same garrison, were familiar enough to default to accompanying each other. Rennin wasn’t sure if he could call Veidan a friend; but since losing Jolen he’d spent more and more time with the android and found him most interesting.
They were sitting at a table playing chess after most of the remaining patients were asleep. Neither had paid much attention to the direction of the war, they were far too disenchanted with their government and their own military division.