![]() Ch 1: Commander MordredA Chapter by Ersa![]() We meet the infamous Commander Mordred and his straightforward world.![]() [ENERGY LEVELS: 100% MEMORY CAPACITY: 100% CANNON CHARGE: 100% CEREBRAL PROCESSING:
100% PHYSICAL FUNCTIONS:
100% RECHARGE COMPLETE] Once his system check finished
running, Mordred opened his eyes and sat up. His HUD told him it was 6:30 AM,
the same time he woke up from recharge every day. He swung his legs over the
edge of his bed and stood up. With a simple clap of his hands, the lights
flickered on. Despite being the Commander of The
Force, second only in power to Lord Auburn himself, Mordred’s room only
contained his bed, a desk, and a wooden chair. He didn’t need anything else. A small bathroom stood to the right of the
bed. He walked into the bathroom, took off his uniform, and stepped into the
shower. “Run sanitation program,” he ordered. A stream of water at exactly room
temperature and disinfectant hit him. He closed his eyes and let the program
cycle through. The whole process only took four minutes. “Run the drying program.” The air from the giant dryer that
came through the wall whipped through his dark hair, drying it in no time.
Mordred stepped out of the shower and put his uniform back on. He checked in
the mirror to make sure his hair was all in its proper place. Honestly, Mordred did not care about his
hair. He was the Commander of the Force, so his looks did not factor into his
job. But Lord Auburn insisted on it not looking like “a rat’s nest”, so he
checked it every day for his Master. He would do anything his Master said, even
if he did not understand his reasoning. Thus was the morning routine of
Mordred, cyborg commander of The Force, Lord Auburn’s unbeatable army and
enforcement squad. It had been his morning routine for seven years. He did the
same exact thing every day, at the same exact time. His Master would no doubt
be pleased by this consistency. Mordred stepped out of the bathroom,
straightening out his uniform. Leaning next to his bed was pretty much the only
thing he owned, his one-of-a-kind light blade. So far, it was the only weapon
that used solid light. There were plans for more, but they had a problem with
it getting so hot that human skin could not handle it. Morderd’s synthesized
skin could though. He picked up the
sheath and attached it to his belt and headed out of his quarters. He met Sergeant
a little down the hall. “Commander, sir!” The man saluted
him. He had served him ever since he could remember. The Sergeant was older
than him by at least a decade, but from what Mordred had observed, the man
didn’t seem to mind that. “Sergeant,” he simply greeted, “What
is on the schedule for today?” “There is a cadet graduation ceremony
in the afternoon, but other than that, nothing seems to be going on.” The
Sergeant was a reliable and responsible man. Mordred never had to ask him to do
things twice and sometimes, he did things before Mordred even ordered them
done. He was wholly dedicated to Lord Auburn too. “Any news on the Rebels?” “Intelligence has nothing to report
on them.” The Sergeant scoffed. “Maybe they’ve finally gotten it through their
thick skulls that there’s no way they can win and have given up.” Mordred did not share the Sergeant’s
optimism. True, the Rebels had not attacked for three weeks, but three weeks
gave them plenty of time to prepare for another attack. “We must always be prepared to move
out on a moment’s notice all the same.” “Of course, Commander.” They walked down the hall in silence
for a few minutes. The Sergeant cleared his throat, attracting Mordred’s
attention. That was not a habit that the Sergeant had. “Sergeant, are you falling ill?” “No, not at all! My throat just got a
bit dry, that’s all. Commander, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?” Mordred pulled a page from his
Master’s book. “You should know by now, Sergeant, that there are no such things
as personal questions, just questions.” That was something Lord Auburn told the
press constantly. “Anyways Commander, some of the men
and I were just wandering what you do in your spare time. You know, when we
aren’t fighting Rebels or other military duties.” “Why do you want to know?” Of course
Mordred was aware of the soldiers’ curiosity of him. After all, he was the only
one that was considered a cyborg in the army and humans were naturally curious
creatures, which got them into trouble. At least, that was what Master Auburn
said. Mordred was not capable of drawing any conclusions like that. “We’re just curious, that’s all.
You’ve been in Lord Auburn’s employee for seven years, yet none of us really
know anything about you.” Mordred simply kept on walking. It
didn’t take the Sergeant long to figure out that this question, like many
others often asked to the cyborg, would go unanswered. They stepped into an
elevator and began to descend. “Sergeant.” “Yes sir?” “Gather a squad of men. We are going
to patrol around the city.” While Mordred ordered patrols of the
city, affectionately known as the Capital among the country’s citizens, he
rarely went on these routine missions. He had a sneaking suspicion that the men
used it as a time to play around and slack off. He also wanted to go in hopes
of finding something that had to do with the Rebels and their current location,
since somehow, once again Intelligence seemed to have lost track of them. “Yes Commander. Are we patrolling any
particular area?” “Yes, the housing district. It has
been a while since anybody has patrolled that area.” “Very good, sir. I’ll gather the men.” “Meet me in the bay in fifteen
minutes. If that is not enough time, for you I can always give you a little
more.” “That’ll be plenty of time,
Commander.” Mordred stepped off the elevator once
it reached its destination. The Sergeant stayed on, traveling to the barracks.
While he waited for him, he chose a patrol vehicle and checked the supplies.
They had ample supplies for a short jaunt through the housing district. He briefly wondered if he should
inform his Master about his plans. Lord Auburn had made it clear several times
that he did not care about the little movements of the troops, especially in
the Capital, but Mordred usually never went with those troops. After a bit of
thinking, he concluded that if his Master truly needed him, he could always
reach him through his special com. The special com was his Master’s
idea, a sort of “shortcut” straight to each other as he had explained it. He
didn’t use the com often, so Mordred had learned that if it started blinking,
that the Master had something of the upmost importance to discuss with him and
to meet him in his own personal quarter; a place no one, not even the most
elite troops were allowed in, aside from Mordred and a few high ranking
officers. Mordred, of course, had a regular com he used for everything else. The Sergeant came back with a dozen
other men, two of which Mordred could tell were fresh from basic training. Even
though they wore helmets that completely covered their faces, he could tell
they were staring at him. It didn’t bother him, he was used to it. Many of the
drill sergeants and other upper military personal liked to tell the cadets
stories about him to get a scare out of them. Mordred couldn’t comprehend why
they insisted on doing so, but most cadets seemed to recover from their fears
once they met him. These would be no different. “Are we ready to depart, Sergeant?” “Sir yes sir!” He looked out over the group. “Remember, we are simply patrolling
the housing district. Do not fire your weapons unless ordered so by myself or
the Sergeant. I do not expect anything to happen, but one always has to be prepared.” “Sir yes sir!” He nodded at the group’s response and
climbed into the vehicle. The Sergeant took the driver’s seat and pulled out of
the docking bay. The two cadets in back took to gossiping, mainly about him.
Mordred thought about informing them that, due to his cyborganic augmentations,
he could hear every word they said. He decided against it, figuring that they
would learn that the rumors were untrue and what his augmentations entailed. When they
arrived to the housing district, most people had already left for work. The
people that were still there ignored them, used to soldiers patrolling the
area. Mordred remembered when people used to be astonished whenever he chose to
show up, but they eventually got used to him coming with the patrols once and a
while too. “Sergeant,
take the men and go through the Alpha,” he ordered as he climbed out, “I’ll
take this sector.” “Commander,
are you sure you want go by yourself?” “Sergeant, I
am capable of patrol myself. If anything comes up, I will call for your
assistance.” The Sergeant simply nodded and drove
off. Mordred walked. His HUD beeped and he glanced at the nearest alley way. When
he didn’t see anything immediately, he switched to his infrared vision.
Somebody was hiding beside the trashcan. He primed his arm cannon and held it
out toward the trashcan. “I have
infrared sensors. I can see your body heat.” A man in a
very ragged brown coat and black beanie came out with his hands up. “Don’t shot!” A quick scan
showed the man unarmed. “Who are
you?” “I’m just a
homeless man looking for a meal. You wouldn’t happen to have any spare change
on you to help a poor old beggar like me?” “I am afraid
not.” Mordred put down his canon. “You may go about your business now, sir.” The man
stared at him for several more moments before running off. Mordred watched him
disappear into another alley way before going over to the trashcan. On the side
were the he had been sitting, there was a chalk drawing of a badger, the symbol
of the Rebels. No doubt the man had been tasked by the Rebels to help spread
their symbol in order to catch more people’s attention. There was no need to
pursue him. The Rebels probably would not give him what they promised him
anyways, if they bothered to show up. They tended to be double crossers like
that. He rubbed it off, getting chalk on his sleeve. With that job done, he continued on his solo
patrol. Three hours of looking for any more signs of Rebels turned out to be
futile. He rendezvoused with the Sergeant and the squad. “Commander,
did you find anything?” “I found a
Rebel sign, but I did not find anymore.” He hopped into the vehicle. “Sergeant,
take us back to the base.” As soon as
Mordred sat in the vehicle, his HUD flashed the word INCOMING and his alarm rang. “Everybody
out!” he ordered, jumping out and dragging out the person closest to him, one
of the cadets. His audio
sensors cut off as the vehicle exploded behind him. Metal went flying,
spreading out over a wide area. Once he concluded that the explosion was over,
he looked around and his audio sensors came back on. His infrared vision kicked
on in order to help him see through the smoke that resulted from the explosion
of the vehicle. A group of
six people approached them through the smoke. Most of his men were still down,
either stunned or unconscious, so Mordred started shooting. The figures avoided
his fire, leaving him to conclude that they also had a device to aid them in
seeing through the smoke. After another few shots missed, he whipped out his
light blade and charged toward the figure nearest to him. A cackle of
electricity sparked through the air. He barely had time lean back and dodge out
of the way as the weapon struck out toward him, aiming for his head. It passed
a hair above his face, sparking and crackling. It was an electro-staff, pretty
much the only thing that his light blade could not cut through, and the one
weapon he had trouble defending against the most. He could dodge lasers all
day, but when it came to an electro-staff, he found himself at an extreme
disadvantage. A normal
person could get hit by the staff and still be able to fight, all be it not
without any pain. Whenever he got hit by the staff, his systems would go
completely out and it would take them a few minutes to reboot, leaving him
completely vulnerable and unable to move. That was an unacceptable position for
him to be in, ever. Mordred
swung his blade up, blocking the next strike from the electro-staff. Now that
the smoke had somewhat cleared, he deactivated his infrared. He could clearly
see the Rebel in front of him. All the details about the Rebel, from the mask
he wore on his lower face, the black, sleeveless shirt he wore, the thick
gloves that protected him from the effects of the electro-staff, the black
cargo pants with a million pockets, to his black beret with a badger on it,
were stored in his memory for further analysis.
He was forced to jump back as the Rebel swept his weapon in a wide arch.
“If you weren’t a machine, I’d say you were afraid of this,” the Rebel
stated, rotating the weapon in his hands. It wasn’t unusual for a Rebel to try to bait him with a comment about the
lack of his humanity, as if somehow the comment actually insulted him. He knew
that he was not human, so why constantly repeat it? It was like calling a dog a
dog and expecting the dog to bite for it. “You have attacked members of the Force openly and in a civilian area.
That is not usual Rebel way.” The man fighting him trembled, not out of fear, but out of the emotion
that Mordred recognized as anger. His eyes narrowed at him. “We’re going to tear you apart and sell you for scrap!” Mordred held his blade out. “We?” He didn’t see any of the other Rebels helping him. Obviously the Rebel had mistaken his question as a gesture to charge at
him, staff twirling. He had barely run a couple of steps when he was assaulted
by laser fire. He fell onto Mordred, bleeding and gulping his few last
breathes. “I meant that as a valid question. If you had been paying more attention
to your troop and less on fighting me, you would have seen that my men had
already beat yours.” “Y-you s-son of a…” The Rebel’s hand went into his pocket before Mordred
could stop it, pulling out a thermal grenade. “At least I-I’ll take y-you with
me…” “You idiot!” the Sergeant exclaimed, “If you press that, you’ll take out the
buildings too!” “So be it.” As soon as his finger jammed down on the button, Mordred slapped it up as
hard as he could. The grenade traveled up, exploding a few seconds later. The
explosion hit a nearby building’s upper floor, causing debris to fly
everywhere. He pushed the Rebel off him, who finally drew his last breath,
avoiding metal that flew toward him. Once debris stopped falling, he looked
around. “Report in!” “I’m okay,” the Sergeant buzzed in on his com, “Simmons and O’Malley are
alright too.” “Is anybody else able to answer?” His com buzzed in silence for a little bit. “Can… can anybody hear me? I’m trapped under a bunch
of rubble and I can’t move…” It didn’t take Mordred long to locate the soldier and
dig him out. “Sergeant, call for a med-evac,” he commanded as he
pulled the soldier out of the rubble, “We have injuries.” “Yes sir!” Mordred pulled the soldier’s helmet off in order to
help him breath better. “Commander… thank you,” the man gasped, “I owe you my
life…” He walked away, going to see if he could find any more
of the squad that might be buried under the debris. By the time the med-evac came, he had unburied all the
people he could find. Three of the men that came with him were dead, four were
injured and would be unable to serve for a while, and three had minor injuries.
The Rebels had fared far worse. Only one had survived, and just barely. There
was no telling if they would even live long enough to be questioned. Mordred supervised the procedure. The Sergeant, who
had his helmet off and a bandage wrapped around his head, stood next to him. “That’s the last time I listen to anything Intelligence
says,” he sighed, “Since when do Rebels attack in civilian heavy areas and with
something a destructive as a thermal grenade?” “Those Rebels were also wearing uniforms which I have
never seen them do before. I will discuss all of this with Lord Auburn.” “If you need to do that, then go ahead. We’ll continue
the search and see if some civilians happened to get caught in the cross fire.” “Very good, Sergeant.” The Sergeant saluted before walking away. Mordred
headed to an extra vehicle the med-evac people had brought and stepped. He had
one foot in when he heard a noise. He stepped out of the vehicle and looked
around. His infrared vision revealed someone in a nearby trashcan. This time, he forewent the warning and rushed over,
popping up the trashcan lid, and reached in, pulling out whoever had taken
shelter there. “By the order of Lord Auburn, I place you under arrest
for the crime of rebellion against the government…” He found himself thrown forward into the wall before
he could finish his sentence. He righted himself and looked at his assailant.
The first thing he noticed was that she was not dressed like the Rebels who had
attacked them. She was, in fact, just in ordinary civilian clothing. She stood
with her fists up, trembling slightly. “Don’t touch me!” she exclaimed, voice trembling for
only a second, “I might not look like much, but I can pack a punch.” Mordred raised his hands, showing her that he was not
armed. He had taken his cannon off in order to use both hands to help evac the
wounded. Although he had no emotions himself, he could identify them on other
people quite well and even logically deduce the reason for their feelings in
most cases. This young… girl, woman, she looked like a teenager, was obviously
frightened of him since he had handled her in such a way. “I mean no harm to you,” he stated, “I thought that
you might be a Rebel hiding. We were attacked earlier, so I did not want to
take a chance.” She eased her stance a little. “I didn’t realize you were part of the Force. I don’t
normally make it a habit of throwing people into walls…” “No, the error was mine. Why were you in the
trashcan?” The girl set her jaw and glared at him. “It’s really none of your business. If you excuse me…” As she went to pass by him, he grabbed her arm. He
suspected it had only been easy because she hadn’t been expecting it. “I was not finished speaking to you. What were you
doing in the trashcan?” “Fine, if you have to know the reasoning behind every
single thing I do, then I’ll tell you if you let go of my arm. You’re crushing it.”
He obliged, even though he knew that the way he gripped her arm had been
nowhere near the force of crushing the bone underneath. “Thank you. I was
taking cover from that attack earlier.” “You saw the attack?” “Only the very beginnings of it. It’s not too smart to
stand out in the open when things are exploding and lasers are flying
everywhere, you know.” Mordred saw no flaw in that logic. It would have
indeed been unwise of her not to take cover. Still, something told him that she
wasn’t telling him the whole story. He was very good at telling if people were
hiding something and this girl showed all the signs, avoidance of eye contact,
constant shuffling, eyes looking for a quick way out. “I see. If that is all, then you would not mind if I
took you to HQ so we can take down your account.” His HUD showed an increased heart rate from her. “Can’t we do it here?” “We do not have the proper recording equipment here.
Is there a reason you do not want to go to HQ?” The girl took off running. He chose not to pursue her.
There was no need. She was not a Rebel, and she had been doing nothing illegal.
Still, she was up to something. He saved her face in his memory banks just in
case as he walked back to the vehicle, climbed in, and departed. Once back at HQ, his com started blinking. A quick
trip in the elevator landed him on his Master’s floor. As he pressed his hand
to the bio scanner and another machine did a retinal scan, he thought back to
the girl. He couldn’t figure out why, there was nothing really
special about her, except her red hair, but Mordred did not care what color
hair she had. He scoured through his memory banks, trying to see if he had seen
her before and his mind was just reminding him of her. The search came back
negative. As the door to his Master’s quarters opened, Mordred
pushed the girl to the back of his mind. He could always ponder later on why
his memory banks felt the need to remind him of her again. He brushed some dirt off his jacket and
stepped into the room. Lord Auburn would complain if he stepped into his
quarters dirty like that. Auburn never considered himself an
old man, despite his white hair and his age hitting into the upper sixties.
After all, what was that saying? Seventies were now the new twenties? Not a
wrinkle lay on his face, and he had a clean bill of health from his physician
on all accounts. True, he had a cane, but he really didn’t need it to assist
him in standing or walking, using it more for aesthetics purposes, and the
occasional beating he found himself administrating. He had been observing the Capital skyline when the
door to his quarters hissed open. In the reflection from the glass, he could
see Commander Mordred enter. “Master.” The cyborg saluted him. “Commander. I believe you know why I have summoned you
here,” he stated, not even bothering to turn around. “I want a report of what
exactly happened during that attack.” And Mordred did so. During the course of the report,
Auburn found his way to what could’ve been considered his throne, but was more
like a leather office chair. When Mordred finished, he sighed, gripping the
silver handle of his cane. “This is disturbing news indeed, Mordred. It sounds
like they were waiting to ambush you.” “It did seem that way.
It is odd that they knew where I would be, seeing as how I had not
planned on going on the patrol until this morning and only a select few knew
about it.” “We must face facts. There may be a traitor somewhere
within the Force. I want everyone who was either on or knew about that patrol
thoroughly investigated.” “Yes sir.” “And tell Intelligence to do their job this time or I
may have to make some personnel changes.” Mordred curtly nodded. “Sir, are you not worried about the actions that the
Rebels took during the encounter, like the grenade and the attack in the
housing sector? They have never attacked where people may possibly be before
and they have certainly never made such a suicidal move like the one with the
thermal grenade did.” Auburn sighed. “They are showing their true colors, Mordred. It’s as
simple as that. They could never gain any public support, so now there are
dropping all pretenses of being “freedom fighters” and the “people’s
champions”,” he spat out the phrases, “And have finally revealed themselves as
the terrorists that they’ve always have been. Increase the number of patrols
done a day, strictly enforce curfew, and increase security around the
Government buildings.” “It will be done.” “One more thing, Commander. I wanted you to attend the
graduation ceremony this afternoon. I have a feeling that the Rebels might try
something at such a public event.” “Yes sir.” Mordred walked out to do his Master’s bidding. © 2018 ErsaAuthor's Note
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Author![]() ErsaAboutJust a simple writer who wanted to finally share my writing with the world. I tend to have trouble writing once I start and I write way too much dialogue. more..Writing
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