Brother James

You have shown you can accept a certain flexibility in your actions.

“James.” The proctor called, “Report to the Headmaster.”

He was expecting the call, so walked slowly down the wooden halls, his footsteps echoing. He has walked this way many times in the past 4 weeks. Almost daily, and sometimes two or three times a day.

He stopped outside the door with a frosted glass centre with ‘Headmaster’ painted in a black flowing script. He knocked softly. “Come” a slow, bass voice said from inside. Only then did James’ hands begin to sweat.

The door creaked shut, and the bronze latch caught with a snap. The headmaster, a balding seventy year old ox of a man sat behind a rosewood desk that dwarfed even him. “Please, take a seat James.”

James’ eyes opened wide. He was used to a caning, used to public humiliation, used to extra chores this curtesy was unfamiliar. Warily he pulled a stiff wooden slated chair to the middle of the room and sat.

“We have had our differences, have we not James?” the headmaster began.

“Yes, Father.” James replied, slowly wiping the sweat from his hands on his thighs hoping the old man was blind as well as senile.

“All of your teachers have much to say about you.” He looked up from a pile of pages on his desk. “Why did you come here, James?”

“You’ve asked me that before.” His tongue moved faster than his mind as usual. Inwardly he cringed, waiting for the inevitable rebuke.

“Yes, yes. All well rehearsed answers that tell us what we want to hear.” The headmasters eyes bore into James.

“To escape,” James said meekly, looking at his feet.

“Good. Now we are getting somewhere. Not often we turn away someone from the priesthood.” James heartbeat doubled. “Especially someone that is a pious as you.” James held his breath. “But you have an obvious flexibility in your actions, and blatant disregard for the discipline we have offered.”

James felt real fear then. “I’m going back to the streets” he thinks, “They are kicking me out when they promised to take me in!” Anger flared in him then, his face flushing red.

“But you are lucky.” James breathed then, “A brother has accepted you. He will work with your talents, teach you new ones, and teach you the discipline we are unable to.”

The headmaster’s door opened and James turned. In walked a tall thin Brother Battle Captain. “Take him and be done with it.” Sighed the headmaster. “May the Pancreator keep you safe, James.”

"Get up, Brother"

“Get up, Brother” the proctor said as he brought the baton down to connect with James’ upper thigh. The proctor waited a long three seconds before asking again. “Get up Brother.” Again the baton connected with thigh giving a wet thock.

James murmured something, but continued to stay lying in the mud where he fell.

“Get up Brother.” Again the baton landed. Red welts stated to appear, even over dark purple and black bruising from similar beatings days past.

New Suns

For the fifth time today, James ran through the obstacle course he had every day since arriving. He sprinted towards the vertical wall as if to smash through it. Planting his left foot, then right onto the wall he pushed hard. Missing the wall on the first attempt just made it harder. His fingers clawed the top of the wall and he pulled himself over.

Twenty meters in front of him was his most feared obstacle. Tall pines they called it. A wooden platform that overlooks a rising stair of randomly spaced wooden poles. Each pole is less than 20 centimetres in diameter, and the top is painted with a blood red paint, apparently to keep the wood from rotting. Almost all recruits had fallen at the start, most breaking something, some dying.

As James approached, his collar bone began to itch. “It still remembers the fall,” he thought to himself as his foot touched the first pole and he began to climb. Only six poles later his legs began to burn. Half way up and his pace had slowed.

“I must not fall. I must not fall. I must not fall.” James repeated this over and over again. With only 4 poles left till the end, his right foot landed and slipped.

“Frag it,” James said, and gave up caring as he fell.

Suddenly his perspective changed. No longer was he falling 15 meters to a hard muddy floor, but was now looking down on a planet from low orbit. He could see a great land mass far below. Sparse clouds obscured mountains to the north. A great open see covered the west of the planet. A small city to the south was the only landmark that broke up the expanse of green land.

Yet dotted all over the land was small points of light. Some in larger clumps, but mostly they were individual. “They are the new suns,” James heard himself say, and knew it was right.

James’ perspective changed again to see mud rushing towards him. He landed hard, but did not feel it. He lay there for a moment, breathing heavily and hearing the proctor approach.

“No need for your baton, Brother, I know I must get up.” He said, the mud bubbling over his lips.

New Enemies

“Time to head back,” James thought to himself as he watched the false dawn obscure the northern lights. He took a quick compass bearing and began to make his way through thick undergrowth deeper into the valley.

He had set out on a scouting mission two day ago from fire base Joseph in search of Symbyote sign. Already he had called in two heavy support missions. The first was after he saw a pair of Symbyote moving across the opposite ridgeline. The second what finding an abandoned mine shaft. He didn’t know what happened with the shaft, but he watched the two burn through high-powered binoculars.

James reached the base of the valley; his movements slow, methodical and silent. He vaulted over a fallen tree and landed into the soft silt of a slow moving stream. Instinct alone caused him to level his rifle at a movement from under the tree. A creature with long thin arms and legs with a round body pulled itself free.

Small round red holes appeared on the creature’s body as James’ rifle breathed its deadly breath. A second creature hissed and spit as it leapt from behind the first. The red holes trailed from the dead creature to the attacking one.

James could hear a hiss and his gun felt hot in his hands and his chest began to itch. The second creature lay unmoving at his feet. He watched as the green mucus covering most of his left side and rifle had already started to burn deep pits into the metal.

A third creature came for him, slower than the other two but no less menacing. James pointed and fired, but the rifle was silent. Dropping it, he pulled a long knife from behind his hip. As the creature attacked, he stepped left, cutting into the creature’s right arm. He then pivoted and buried the knife into the spinal column.

Only then he noticed the creature was once human and the torn rags that clung to it placed the owner as an orderly from second battalion.