"Shadowknight Legion Chapter 2" by Jake Corre

        "Right, you people have probably never seen some of these weapons.  The Xerxes is equipped with the most advanced examples of technology for death and destruction that have ever been constructed by human or nonhuman hands."  The sergeant motioned back along the table set up in the empty hangar.  It was long, over a hundred feet long, and covered from end to end with exotic weaponry.  The weapons were of various size, some handheld, some rifle and some larger.  The sergeant walked around behind the table, picked up the first weapon, and showed it to the crowd of marines standing in front of him.

        The weapon was a standard-looking pistol, with four coils along the barrel and a glowing open window in the back full of a pulsating, shifting blue material.  "This piece of equipment is the CT-4 handheld energy assault weapon.  In other words, it's a pistol.  It has a recharging cold fusion cell good for five hundred shots of blue crap that hurts people."  He set the pistol down and picked up the next one, a similar design but slightly larger, and with a large box extending out of the bottom of the grip.  "This is the CT-3, a physical weapon.  It fires bullets, and accepts a standard, size small resequencer clip."  There was a click as he pulled a small lever on the side, and he flipped the black metal weapon in his hand.  "It also accepts standard small clips, if you want to run out of ammo.

        There were a few other basic descriptions of the pistols on the table.  There was one with a continuous beam, a laser weapon, one that fired EMP shots and one with explosive bullets.  He continued to the rifles and lifted the first.  Approximately two feet long, the weapon had a foot long barrel in the front and a large, cylindrical stock.  It glowed with the same sort of energy as the CT-4 through a small vent window in the side.  "This rifle is called the Reaver.  One shot from this will kill, so don't mess around with this.  That means you, Andersen."  He offered a pointed glare toward the man in the front of the crowd.  "The power cell is also fusion, and is easy enough to refill.  You all know that.  One hundred shots on maximum power, two hundred if you go for maiming instead of killing."  The progression went about the same as with the pistols.  A rifle that fired bullets, one with continuous beam, a laser, an EMP, an explosive launcher, and two new ones.

        The first was matte black, three feet long with a wide barrel opening and a rounded, but boxy stock.  "This is the heaviest rifle-size weapon we have.  It fires self-propelled explosive charges from the resequencer that can be loaded with up to ten different yields.  It's not that complicated, there's a screen on the top where you select your firing mode.  Default is a point five kilogram high explosive charge with an effective accurate range of three thousand meters."

        The second composed of a tank to be worn on one leg, and a tube connecting to a two foot long, no-frills weapon.  It was essentially a trigger and a barrel opening.  "This is a generic payload delivery system.  Flames, plasma, electricity, poison gas, antimatter... whatever.  The resequencer has a different capacity depending on what you're shooting.  Crowd control, people, this thing can fill a space station with nerve gas in about five minutes."

        It continued, getting more and more boring.  At least, that's how Paul viewed it.  Each weapon group had about the same things, and the only interesting gun to him was the six-barreled bullet firing monstrosity at the end.  The sergeant claimed it could fire two thousand rounds a minute for five minutes solid, and it was so big that it had a small antigravity generator attached to allow a soldier to carry it with ease.  The briefing continued for awhile, and finally the marines were dismissed.

          *          *          *

        While the six friends had already had their weekly poker game, they were invited to the one held that night by the ship's marines.  It was a good way to bring people together, and steal their money.  Nathan was the first to arrive.  The six foot seven man was a very imposing figure, his light blonde hair and ice blue eyes showing his fully (amazingly so) Norse heritage.  He had a frame to match the height--almost three hundred pounds of muscle.  He also had an intelligence that his physical characteristics and general manner hid fairly effectively, one that he used as a secret weapon often.  He stepped into the mess hall with a cigar in his teeth, glancing about.

        Charlie was right behind him.  Though not small, the six foot one human was dwarfed easily by his friend.  Pure white hair and green eyes marked him as one of the population of humans descended from many of the genetic experimentations of the last century.  His particular lineage extended from the Martian Biological Research Center located on that planet's north pole.  His build and intelligence were not particularly remarkable, but he needed little sleep and his endurance in physical tasks was beyond any unenhanced human's capabilities.

        Dillon was the only non-marine to be invited to attend.  He directed the ship's weaponry from the fire control room, and was therefore considered one of the fighting men.  He was also of average size, six foot two, and of a slimmer build than the rest.  Fire control was not a physically strenuous task, but it kept his mind very sharp.  He often won the day at poker.  Short black hair was concealed under the black uniform hat he wore, a squashed thing that resembled a beret.  His only unusual feature were his gray eyes.

        Paul arrived last.  At six feet even, he was the shortest of the bunch.  Nothing else was particularly out of place, however.  He had the same type of muscular build as all the marines, short black hair and brown eyes.  His hands were tucked in the pockets of his black jumpsuit uniform as he glanced at the tables of men.  There were twelve round tables filled to capacity, and a man at one of them waved him over.  They needed five to play.

        "All right then... I don't think I know any of you."  There was one odd thing about this table he noticed on his way over.  There was a woman.  About thirty percent of the marine force on the Xerxes was composed of women, but generally they didn't attend the testosterone-filled activities of the other men.  Paul was never sure what exactly they did with themselves.  "I'm Cassandra... Cassandra Augustine.  My transfer was only approved a couple of days ago so I wasn't on your crew lists..."  She finished shuffling the cards.  Paul had always wondered how the attractive women ended up in the marines instead of somewhere more suitable for their talents, like pornography.  He estimated correctly that she was about five foot eight, with brown hair, green eyes, and a nervous smile to the table of men.  The other thing he noticed was that, despite the jumpsuit, she had a nice rack.  He didn't voice that last thought.

        He pulled out his chair and sat down, offering her a smile back.  "Paul Mox."

        The next man over spoke.  "Britton."

        The other two men at the table spoke quickly.  "Matt Denton."

        "Aerin Rickenbacker."

          *          *          *

        Cassandra nodded at them and distributed the cards.  The games were uneventful.  No one won a significant amount of money, and conversation was very light.  Most attempts to get it going earned a surly look from Britton, who had conveniently forgotten to mention his first name at any time during the night.  The game broke up when Matt and Aerin conveniently excused themselves.  Britton finished his seventh beer of the night and growled off, leaving Paul and Cassandra alone at the table.  The other tables were clearing out as well.

        "That was uncomfortable as hell."  The woman was glad to see a certain person leave, and as soon as the doors shut behind him she attempted to spark another conversation.  She wanted to know at least one person aboard ship.

        "I certainly hope the whole squad isn't like that guy.  F***."  He finally felt relaxed now that Britton was gone... and the alcohol didn't hurt anything.  He tilted back in his chair and set to throwing cards at the chair across from him.  The weak material of the padding split easily as each expertly-thrown card cut through and stuck in.

        Cassandra eyed the show, amused at the cards.  "I didn't know you could do that with a playing card."

        "It's simple... you just have to flick it properly.  Goes right in, cuts about anything.  People even."

        "People...?  You know that from personal experience?"  She was smiling, though.  If nothing else, this man was actually talking to her, a vast improvement.

        "Yes... sometimes Nathan gets out of line, he needs to be shown his place."  The person in question had already left.  Another card slid into the padding of the chair.  "I don't know anything about you."

        "I didn't have much of a chance to talk... I'm sorry.  I really wanted to meet people..."  She sighed slightly and leaned back in her chair, dropping her chin into her right palm.  "I just transferred to Shadowknight Legion... I heard it was better here.  Everyone in Skyhawk is a total dickhead."

        "So I've heard."  His next card cut through one of the ones already in the chair, forming an X.  "We're pretty varied... they took people from all the ships in our legion.  I'm not sure how it's going to fit together.  I'll be nice to you, if you can't find anyone else."

        "Thank you."  She smiled back at him and slid from the chair, pulling one of the cards out to toss back at him.  "I'll see you on board, I suppose... I may as well get back to my quarters and get dirty looks from the girls."

        "Why do they give you dirty looks?"

        "Because... they're ugly?  I'm new?  I don't know."  She headed away from the table toward the doors, and every male eye in the room followed.  It really didn't matter what she looked like, she was the only woman present.  She just happened to be attractive.

        Paul was still flicking cards when the speaker system whistled, and the red alert klaxons sounded.  "All non-essential crew, please move to safe locations.  We are conducting tests of the zero point drive."

          *          *          *

        "Radiation shields going online.  Antimatter reactor at seventy five percent and rising.  Zero point drive online, zero point energy generation nominal.  Antimatter reactors coming up... one hundred percent.  Zero point energy levels at one hundred percent."  The bridge officer watched his panels, tapping a few more buttons.  He slid off his chair and stepped over to face the captain, hands clasped behind his back.  "Sir, the negative energy drive is functioning perfectly.  We are ready to shunt power to the nacelles and generate our field at any time."  The Tel'thazad officer stood still awaiting an answer, eyes angled down at the captain below.

        "Very good.  Keep me informed, do not generate the field."  The captain turned and walked back to his chair, settling down lightly in it.  The captain's chair was at the forward center of the bridge, on a small extended semicircle on the second level.  Below and in front of him was a wide bank of consoles and chairs where six officers worked.  To each side, level with him and in their own detached pods, two pilots sat in fully-enclosed virtual reality cockpits.  Behind the captain was a large, flat area with five banks of consoles and forty officers.  On either side were the seats and console half-circles for the first and second officers.  Above the large area of the bridge was the third level, with fourteen officers and more sets of consoles and controls.  Along the front wall of the bridge was the main viewscreen, and various smaller displays hung around the spacious room.  Men and women of three races manned the stations.  There were no Keta bridge officers.

        The captain, a human by the name of Mikhail Spiridonov, leaned back in his chair and placed his feet up on his semicircle of displays and controls, watching his bridge form together.  Widely considered the best commander in the entire Alliance--possibly the galaxy--he was a subject of both fear and admiration.  He was also possibly the most physically intimidating man aboard ship.  Six foot nine inches tall and three hundred and thirty pounds, he towered over most in both mind and body.  His black hair was hidden under a blue uniform cap and similarly blue eyes peered about him.  His thundering voice was silent for the moment, as he discreetly judged his first and second officer.

        His first officer was the highest ranking non-human on board, a Tel'thazad man named Tonal'Suul.  The two hundred and fifty pound man was as heavily built as all the members of his race, native to a high gravity environment.  He was just shy of six feet tall, with bright yellow hair and red eyes.  He was busy on the third level, directing the engineering section of the bridge.  "What is the status of our weapon power?"

        One of the men at a console turned around to face him and respond to the question.  "Sir, weapons are operating normally.  The drive system is supplying ten percent more power than anticipated."

        "Can we handle that?"

        "Yes, sir.  The ship's systems are designed to safely contain and direct power up to three hundred percent over maximum.  With the dissipation system active, that number raises to five hundred and fifty percent.  Operating at one hundred and ten percent is within all standards."

        "Good.  Recalibrate our systems to consider this point one hundred percent, and inform the base of our discovery."  Tonal'Suul continued down the line.

        The ship's second officer was a human woman named Natasha Valentine.  She was seated on her side of the bridge, the left, conversing with the ship's AI.  All new vessels had an AI system, named after the ship--Xerxes, Babylon, Bismarck--which made ship operations that much safer and more efficient.  She was a somewhat tall woman, five foot ten, with wavy, jet black hair and deep blue eyes.  Her family barely survived World War IV, evidenced by her Russian name and Polish features.

        Captain Spiridonov watched her for a moment, then turned back toward the viewscreen.  He folded his arms behind his head and stretched, allowing the crew to operate without him for the moment.  There was nothing of vital importance going on at the moment, simply diagnostics.  This was likely the last time that the captain would be free to relax while aboard the Xerxes, so he was determined to take advantage of it.

          *          *          *

        The black haired man wandered through the ship's corridors, a neutral expression on his darkly tan-toned face.  His black eyes, almost completely obscuring the pupils, glanced at each passing crew member.  He offered them acknowledging nods back.  His hands rested in the pockets of his jumpsuit.  The six foot two man turned a corner and headed through a doorway, into one of the ship's many armories.  He approached the other marine in the room and cleared his throat.  "I'm here to pick up one of the chest plates for stress testing in cargo bay seven."

        "Name?"

        "Eschenbach.  Logan Eschenbach."

        "All right.  I got clearance for you a few minutes ago.  There's a detached chest plate on the table."  The marine raised his hand in the proper direction.  "Take it."

        Logan nodded and picked up the indicated piece of metal.  Much as the name suggested, it was shaped to fit over a person's chest easily as one of the pieces in the suits of light powered armor kept aboard ship.  He carted it off and took one of the lifts down to the cargo bay.

        Logan was not the typical marine aboard.  As with all human institutions, the Alliance had its fair share of secrets.  Logan was a series R, a nanotechnologically enhanced human.  Nanotechnological augmentation had been outlawed years before, but it was being quietly phased back in by certain groups in the Alliance government.  Logan was a field test.  If the technology was more effective than powered armor, a new military branch would be formed to make use of the augmented humans.

        For the moment, though, he was just another marine.

          *          *          *

        Half an hour had passed, and the captain was pacing the bridge.  Diagnostics were going slow--he insisted on a thorough check before they tested the engines.  There was one more minute left.  Large numbers counted it down on the viewscreen as he watched, silent, from the third floor.  The numbers hit zero and Commander Valentine stood, turned, and faced up toward the captain.

        "Sir, all ship's systems are functioning at one hundred percent.  We are prepared to conduct our testing."

        "Very good, commander.  Our mission for the moment is a simple one.  We are to set course for Jupiter Station and then return to base, as fast as we possibly can.  Engage the negative energy drive and await my go-ahead."  The bridge was silent beyond the beeping of consoles until the captain was finished speaking, then the noise level increased significantly as orders were relayed.  Captain Spiridonov stepped down the curved stairs along the side of the bridge and proceeded to his chair.

        Outside, the green nacelles lit up with a bright light.  It increased in strength gradually, eventually becoming a nearly blinding, almost white light.  At the captain's order the negative energy drive connected and the light of the nacelles seemed to explode outward, expanding like a balloon.  It swallowed the entire ship whole, and slowly faded back into blackness.  The ship had vanished.

        The view inside the Xerxes was more interesting.  The outside went black while the field was up in normal space, and the passage into null space came with a flash of bright white light followed by streaks.  These continued for a moment, giving way to a pulsating sea of churning colors, various types of radiation producing wild photons.  Awe-struck eyes were turned to various viewscreens and portholes to watch the sight outside.  Null space was an odd state, half existing and half not, which the negative energy field pulled the ship into.  Normal physics did not apply in null space, allowing the ship to exceed the speed of light by many factors beyond what could be done in normal space.

        Inside the ship, normal physics applied quite nicely.  The negative energy field kept the Xerxes far enough into normal space to allow such things as gravity and light to still work.

          *          *          *

        A relatively short time later, there was a bright white flash near Jupiter.  The flash expanded into a bubble, which faded away to leave the form of the Xerxes floating among the stars.  The ship's computer announed the arrival and the time.  Six minutes, on a run that usually took eight hours.  There were smug grins from most of the crew as Captain Spiridonov ordered a second diagnostic to ensure nothing was damaged.

        The rules had just changed.