Briefing

110 AE

Polemos Facility

Former PRD Territory

ζ17

Briefing

 

                Life is a routine.  You are born; you live; you die.  Every person goes through that cycle having insignificant changes on the grand scheme of things.  The lucky ones get to leave it early.  It’s part of my routine to make lucky ones. 

                There’s not much to live for, at least now anyways.  This great race known as human kind has reduced itself to shambles.  There were few survivors after the war ten years ago, forced to live isolated, desolate lives.  How futile.  They should all give up.  Can’t they see their time is over?  They are an endangered species.  They face extinction.  It’s not the first time.  They escaped Earth, the birthplace of humanity before it killed them.  They came to this planet and named it Salvation.  Now that’s become an ironic name. 

                It’s funny that with the state of their species, there are those who still wish others dead.  That’s human nature I guess.  Human nature will be the last aspect of humanity to die. 

                And it’s not me who wishes others dead.  I am the tool, the weapon to do so.  Just point and I will succeed.  It is my purpose.  It is why I exist.  Am I human?  Am I in control of my actions?  Am I man? Or am I weapon?  I lack compassion.  Do I lack a soul?

                The door opens.  In walks Mr. Dragon.  His black uniform gives prestige and authority to his appearance.  His aging face yet reveals a tattered old man who has gone through hell and back.  “You passed every test with flying colors,” he states walking to the front of the room, “The time has come for your first mission.”

                I don’t respond.  It is not my place to respond.  I am a weapon, not a man, and a gun does not respond to its gunman.  It only fires when the gunman pulls the trigger.  Mr. Dragon is pulling the trigger. 

                “You have three targets,” Mr. Dragon begins, “The first is Christian Rexrode.  Ten years ago, he was the President of Decoria.”  The screen behind Mr. Dragon displays a profile with a picture.  Christian Rexrode, Age: 59, Hair: Blond, Eyes: Blue, Height: 5’9”.  Location: Crimson Palace, PRD. 

                “Your second target is Rexrode’s personal body guard, Moses.  Of your targets, he is likely the most dangerous.”  The screen wipes away all the info on Rexrode and now displays Moses’ profile.  He has dark skin, once considered ‘African descent,’ only, there is no more Africa.  Name: Unknown, Code Name: Moses, Age: Unknown, Hair: Black, Eyes: Brown.  Height: 6’1”.  Location: Crimson Palace, PRD.  Caution: Extremely dangerous.

                “Your last target is Dr. Brutus Devivo, a Decorian scientist.”  Now Devivo’s profile appears.  Name: Dr. Brutus Devivo, Age: 74, Hair: gray, eyes: blue.  Height: 5’8”.  Location: Crimson Palace, PRD. 

                “All your targets live in the Crimson Palace, the former governmental affairs center of Decoria.  You will get there using the Polemos catacombs.  Most of the surface is not safe to transverse, even in your full suit.”  Mr. Dragon feels it is necessary to tell me things I already know.  If I travel on the surface, I would likely cross a dead zone.  Then it would not matter if my suit’s rebreather prevents me from inhaling the air.  I would be dead in a matter of hours. 

                “There is one more piece of information,” he adds, “Our reports state that four people currently live within the Crimson Palace.  Three are your targets.  The last is Christian Rexrode’s daughter, Marcia Rexrode.”  The screen now displays her profile.  The Picture is of a little girl.  Name: Marcia Rexrode, Age: 18, Hair: black, Eyes: green, Height: 5’6”.  Location: Crimson Palace, PRD.  It occurs to me now all these pictures are out dated.  Marcia’s picture does not match someone who is eighteen years old.  I should account for this. 

                “Marcia Rexrode is to be taken alive.  I cannot stress this enough,” Mr. Dragon states.  I don’t remember training for hostage situations.  This is new.  “If you need to, use her as leverage to get to your targets, but she needs to stay alive.  Understood?”

                “Understood,” I answer.  The only thing I have said this whole time.  This part of the mission confuses me.  I am a weapon, my purpose is to kill.  Guns don’t take hostages.  Then again, it is not my place to question Polemos’ intentions. 

                “The last detail and objective,” Mr. Dragon states, “Your targets possesses amongst them, no fewer than two ECD’s.  This makes them extremely dangerous.  You are to retrieve these, as they are Polemos property.  Take caution.”  The door behind me opens.  It leads to the Polemos Catacombs that crisscross the planet.  A motorcycle is there.  It will be my transportation.  “Go now, dulce bellum inexpertis.”

                Polemos’ Motto.  War is sweet to those who never fought.  I wonder now if all my training, all the tests I’ve run, do they equate to war?  Is the indifference I feel now just a bubble to be popped?  Am I weapon? Or am I human?  Do I lack a soul?  I guess I will find out.  

Reviews

[Kayja Symphious]

Another great chapter!

I do have to say this: When the character asked himself "Am I man? Or am I weapon? " I was intrigued. But that soon got deflated..." It is not my place to respond. I am a weapon, not a man,"

That might need some changing.

Overall, a good read!

Thank you!