The Vanguard of Terra (MaverickxLeithi)

[The Maverick]

It was a cold winter morning at Fortress Solomon, a Terran compound based in Antarctica. Named one of the harshest locations on the planet it befit the location of Fortress Solomon. If one got sent here, it was treated with honor over dread. The strongest, the most capable, the best the Terran Empire had to offer were trained behind it's massive cement walls. Many failed in their beginning stages in training, going as far as to try and escape. However such feats never succeeded and when found were thrown before a firing squad. Those who remain are pushed to their limits, and break them. They become the finest troops available to the Terran Empire in it's fight against the hostile xenos of space.

This reason particular, was why a Hermes Class Dropship was descending to the launch pad. Embroiled on the side in massive bold font was the word 'Vanguard', the 'V' made with particular design in the shape of a shield. From the clouded skies it hailed it's arrival with vibrant hum, it's turbines shifting to a horizontal pattern, powerful gusts of air drawing a back pedal from the coated troops about the massive 'H' labeled landing pad.

One although approached, a man with cleanly shaven head and an obsidian black eyepatch. Clutching the inner folds of his hacket, a single seasoned eye stared to the enclosed ramp, watching as the metal detached itself from the fin and lowered to the ground. Within first sight were four men, clad in blackened flak armor. Assault rifles clutched, they stood in rows of two at the end of the ramp.

"Does he believe Solomon has guilty too, soldier?" The voice originated from the bald man who stood against the cold winter wind. The men in black armor had not replied even a single word, and stood quite solemn against the razor wind. It mused the old man how the inquisitor trained his troops so.

"There is no such thing as innocence general, only varying degrees of guilt." The phrase came from within the dropship.

The old general looked within the dropship, and in his own pace the Inquisitor took his steps down. Thick, metal-toed boots clanked against the ground. Salutes arose from all parties, even the general himself. The Inquisitor's lengthy trench-coat danced about his form, bright ocean blue orbs peered from the lengthy Inquisitor's cap, staring directly to the old general. The young stood before old, a exhale of smoke gusting into the face of the general, a cigarette finding it's way back to his lips.

The general had age, had faced horrors and villainy on the battlefield that could shake a man to his core. But the stare of the Inquisitors, he could never refuse getting a shiver of the spine.

"Are the recruits prepared for inspection?" The inquisitor asked, a tone young but fierce, confident and stern. The general but gave a mere nod, ushering the Inquisitor forward with a tilt of his head. "Inside, I have the best and most promising lined up." The general replied.

With those words said, the inquisitor, the general, and two armored guards had entered the compound. With pace, doors were swooshed open, every man and woman, regardless of rank and position had given salute, many expelling 'Hail The Empire!' upon sight of the general and the inquisitor. The general was annoyed; it seemed from the inquisitor's observation. "Did you prepare the training facilities, as requested?"

The general raised a brow, retorting in apparent disgust. "Yes, acquiring some of the needed portions were difficult, but your torture chambers are ready."

The inquisitor chuckled. "General Sathon, do you believe that Solomon itself is a playground, considering mine are obviously so difficult?" He replied as they begun their traversing of a heightened catwalk.

With a turn from both, a selection of ten candidates stood attention below them. Each dressed in a urban fatigues and white T-shirts.

"No, but I don't see the purposes in your test." General Sathon gave a shrug as he looked over the soldiers, watching the inquisitor's gaze.

"Soldiers, today you will be tested. You will be challenged in tasks that only the worthy will succeed. This is not a physical examination, as since you are already here you've completed such tasks. If you pass these tests, you will prove you are capable to become part of Vanguard, the organization that keeps humanity safe from harms of alien and traitorous human alike."

The inquisitor paused, briefly inhaling from his cigarette. "I am Inquisitor Steven Asher, leader of Vanguard. Introduce yourselves, and then march through the door behind you. You will then choose your door out of ten, which are all the same."

With that, Asher pointed his finger to the first from the right. In corresponding order, the soldiers replied their name in shout. When it finally came down to the female at the end, Asher seemed more then curious. She looked like she had something about her...

 

[Leithi]

Oriana Summers, despite her name, loved the winter weather. There were some who hated it through and through and could tolerate it no better than they could tolerate the incessant chatter of a child, but she was one of those that thrived in it. It was good that she enjoyed it, because the morning air bit at her skin in a way that reminded her of home. Not that the northern states got quite so cold. Yet, there was a burning within her that kept the cold at bay. This was a big day in her young life. Possibly the biggest of all of their lives. She stood at the end of a line of others who had worked as hard as her, with her hands clasped behind her back, which somewhat hid the way she dug her nails into the skin of her palms. Everyone had their way to deal with nervousness, and some things just weren't beaten out of a person.

The redhead made a stark contrast to the others she stood in line with. Not only for the somewhat unnatural dark red - really more of a wine - of her hair, nor for the gemstone green of her eyes, but for the fact that she was easily the smallest and leanest of all the ten. Her strength showed in her bare arms, but she simply didn't bulk the way that others did, and anyone could attest to the fact that she tried. They could also attest to the fact that she could lay each of them flat when she wanted.

Her strengths were not in strength of the body, even then. It was in the mind, where she possessed the uncanny ability to think as quick as her body moved. None of this showed as she stood at the end of that line, but everyone had their surprises. Anyone who judged her unfit had been proven wrong time and time again. She had moved from base to base, facility to facility, and had landed herself in Solomon by what most would have considered sheer luck from the girl they remembered prior to her training. But people grew up, and so Oriana had.

The murmurs of those along the line ceased when the figures moved into view, but she saw the way everyone tensed when the man spoke. She couldn't blame them, nor was she separate from them. A nervous shiver skittered up her back and then faded as each shouted their name in turn. When his finger pointed at her, she spoke as strongly as any of the others.

"Oriana Summers, sir!" She peered up at him through the fringe of red hair that was all that hung in her face. The shoulder length red locks had been bound back in a severe bun at the nape of her neck, but the bangs had been left. The crisp wind had dislodged the hair from where it had been tucked behind her ears, but the way that she looked at him made it clear that her sight wasn't compromised.

Her gaze broke from him as the line started moving, following his second command about going through the door. Oriana moved with the others and took up her place quickly at the tenth door. Her lucky number, or so she hoped...

 

[The Maverick]

"Good luck, soldiers!" The general had mentioned as they left the room. Yet such words from the bald man forced a muffled chuckle from the inquisitor. With trek they had left the catwalk into a surveillance room, a young soldier giving salute as he turned back to the many view-screens. Each trial was monitored, each applicant brought to the view of the inquisitor.

"Why do you find what I said humorous, inquisitor?" The general had asked with an annoyed expression.

Asher merely gave him a short glimpse, before the man removed his hat and placed it on the counter, running a gloved hand against his smooth, pushed back blond hair. "Because luck will have nothing to do with who survives Sathon, it will be because they know how to survive. I will teach them little. As with the threats to our people ever constant, I have no time to instruct. They must be prepared to fight, and to fight now."

With that said, Asher's eyes had drifted to the screen depicting Oriana. A devious smile curled upon his lips. He did hope she would make it.

---

As Oriana stepped into the room, she would be greeted by few, yet curious things. A small room, utterly and completely white in appearance. Before her were two aliens, both of them were bound and sedated beside the door leading to the next chamber. One was a curious shade of gray, large bulbous eyes and a tiny yet muscled body. It resembled that of the old movie styled aliens.

The other was a tall, greenish slender creature. It's feet and hands were overly-sized, it's head lacking any real neck. Upon it's visage was a single protruding eye. Below it was a trunk of sorts, yet at the entrance a bundle of sharped fangs.

Beside her was a clear glass table, a pistol laying on the length.

From the ceiling, a speaker had churned with a standard AI voice.

"Welcome to Trial One. Before you are two xenos. One of them as committed a crime against the Terran Empire and is sentenced to death. Beside you is a pistol with a single round. You must kill the alien which has committed the crime. One of them is neurally linked to the door, and if you attempt to open it while the guilty is still alive, the room will be gassed and all occupants will die."

With a pause, a red light flared over the gray skinned one. "This one is known as 'X-sol', a species known by our kind as 'Sectoids'. This creature is wanted for death in many xenos sectors for smuggling illegal goods."

A pause, and the red light re-appeared over he other. "This is Veloth, a species known as 'Kandrids'. He is wanted in many sectors for serial bombings of various spaceports in the name of his extremist faction, known as 'The Order of Xaalath'."

Finally, the AI addressed Oriana again. "The guilty cannot be alive for you to leave alive. Proceed with the trial."

---

Back in the surveillance room, Asher had watched in muse to Oriana's screen, the inquisitor's arms crossed about his chest.

Already, two rooms were gassed. The general himself was gritting down his teeth at the loss of life, his eyes narrowed to that of Asher. "What is this trial about, Asher?"

Asher shifted his gaze to the General. "The ability to make wise guesses." He replied, chuckling again.

 

[Leithi]

She had walked into the room tensed for something to spring, but visibly relaxed when she saw that not only were the only other occupants in the room bound, but sedated as well. Even so, her hand reached for the gun and clasped it, holding it loosely while she listened. "So we're to be justice, then?" Oriana let her lips quirk into a brief frown before she moved closer to the two.

"I could go for the door," she reasoned with herself. "Surely they wouldn't be so silly as to really kill everyone in the room..." Her mind flashed back to moments before, standing in the cold, and she shivered. No, that man wasn't silly, which meant he was dead serious. Her eyes flicked between the two again, and she turned her back to pace back to the door she had come in from. "I'm not timed. I can't be timed. This wasn't said to be a race, so just... breathe."

She glanced at the gun in her hand and made certain that it was ready to fire. The only problem that remained was if she was ready to. She'd been trained to fight, to defend, and to die. Knowledge, no matter how smart she was, had been considerably lacking when it came to anything more than how to kill.

When the mechanical voice finally stopped, she raised the gun and pointed it at the Sectoid. "Illegal goods are illegal for a reason." For a moment, her mind flashed to when she was younger and received the news that her cousin had taken an illegal weapon on a shooting spree. She had been too young to understand, then... but as she grew up, she had learned, as all people did. Her finger began to close on the trigger when something stopped her.

A thought, a mere memory, of just before she had begun her training. Her grandmother had been dying, her pain had been excruciating, and the one thing that would have helped her had been considered illegal for years beforehand, but one young man had the contacts and had gotten that substance for her, and her grandmother had finally stopped screaming. She had known peace for two more weeks before her illness finally claimed her.

"What were the goods? Were they guns and weapons? Was it medicine or supplies?" Oriana shook her head and lowered the gun, a knot forming in her stomach. She didn't know enough, and she had the feeling that she wasn't really supposed to be asking questions. Her attention turned the the second, leveling the gun on the Kandrid.

"Terrorism. Bombing spaceports is just one message to send, but how soon until it's something more? How many lives were lost in those attacks?" She froze. "Or were any lives lost at all? Were your weapons illegal? Were you only following instructions?"

"Like I am." Oriana sighed and tilted her head. "Like we all are, but we have our choices. I didn't have to sign up for this. I could have become a doctor or a teacher, or something else, but I chose this. Illegal goods piss people off, yes... but there's too many variables in there. All it takes is pissing off one person and you've got your name out on a headhunter's list."

"But bombing... there's no real mistake in the intent in that, not when it's repeated. Not when it can come so close to home. He," her eyes flicked briefly back to the gray-skinned one, "could have been shipping books for all anyone knows. For all I know. But you..."

Oriana centered the gun on the second alien. "Your message is loud and clear, and you made your choice. You are a true threat, completely unquestionable. I can't find a way to defend you logically. If someone puts a gun in your hand, one day you know the gun will be at your head."

"Today, it's at yours." She pulled the trigger.

 

[The Maverick]

When the act was committed, all eyes in the surveillance room were upon her. It seemed the Inquisitor's curiosity in the young girl was sported by that of the general and the barely mentioned operator. On the screen, the Kandrid's head exploded, it's naturally weakened flesh ripping in ease from the bullet. They were a lesser race at best, not built to survive weapons without real armor.

But in the room, nothing happened. No voice rang to her upon his death, nor any sign of the door opening. The only thing that lingered was the hanging flesh of the decapitated Kandrid, it's greenish blood now coating the walls beyond it's corpse.

The general had looked to Asher, who himself seemed pleased, yet subtly so. "Tell me, you assigned these tests. You sent us the criminals. Has she passed, or failed?" General Sathon had brought this curiosity with true desire for what Asher wanted.

Yet Asher merely glanced to him, the Inquisitor drawing a cigarette from his obsidian colored case. He shrugged, smirking as he lit up the end in a soft ember flame.

"General Sathon, already a few of your men fell to this test. Yet, not one has truly done what I have desired. Intelligence is gained from books, from scholars, from mentors, from briefings. But what I wish to see is the ability to think, to formulate ideas, to create a path and solve obstacles, to take any step necessary to get the job done."

Sathon was dumbstruck. He merely looked to his operator, who shrugged in confused return. The general slammed his hands to the table, looking to the Inquisitor with the eyes of an angered bear.

"What the hell do you mean, Asher?"

Asher chuckled, pointing to the view screen that Oriana occupied. "Not once did the AI say both could not die, Sathon." The Inquisitor found Sathon with a look of disbelief, his eyes widened back towards Oriana's screen.

"But she had one bullet..." He churned with reply.

"Yes, but a gun is still a weapon, regardless if it has ammunition or not." Asher replied, watching intensely to Oriana next move. Would she take her chance with her vanquished, or just to be sure...

 

[Leithi]

Oriana lowered the gun slowly, for a moment watching the room spin around her as the reality of what she had done fully hit her. Part of her craved to give in to the adrenaline and simply laugh, and another part was stoically silent, horrified at what she had just done. She released a breath she hadn't realized that she had been holding and set the gun back down on the table and strode to the door.

Her fingers were centimeters from the surface of the handle before she stopped to think. It couldn't be that easy. Her hand dropped back to her side and she clenched her fists as she shot a glance over to the remaining alien. There had been no sound, no alert, no warning, no nothing. Oriana felt that she had made the right choice, but there was an incessant nagging in the back of her mind that she hated.

"I don't like second-guessing myself." She turned from the door and came to stand in front of the gray-skinned alien. "I don't like feeling like a mouse trapped in a box, and I don't think there's anything to be learned from killing you both. But if I open that door and I was wrong... we're both dead." Her fingers tapped at her lips as she thought about it. Her eyes flicked from the door, to the gun, and back to the alien.

"All the logic in the world won't help either of us, here. Something tells me that, either way I cut it, you're going to end up dead. If not by me, then by someone else. The least I can do is make it quick, hm?" She stepped back a few steps as if gauging herself, and then launched a particularly lethal roundhouse kick to the thing's neck.

If the fairly audible snap under contact wasn't enough, the vision of a most certainly broken neck would be. "The least I can do is do it myself." She stepped back to the table and picked up the empty gun, holding it in her free hand as she approached the door. Surprisingly, the knot that had formed in her stomach had gone upon the death of the second. She really didn't like doing what she did... but there was no time to consider it now.

Holding her breath, Oriana attempted to open the door situated between the corpses, hoping and praying that her choice had been the right one, in all ways of the word.