11-05-2022, 12:34 AM
(This post was last modified: 11-05-2022, 12:56 AM by Rusfan. Edited 3 times in total.)
Bellise
Pop, pop, pop, popopopopopopopThe rhythmic sounds of shooting rang up and down the indoor range as rows upon rows of recruits took turns firing down the hall into paper targets, their form crisp and perfect.
Except for one.
Bellise Brownstone was talented at a lot of things. Give her 5 random ingredients and she could create a meal that would make a Celebrant break his fast. Put a tablet in front of her and she could work magic. She could even juggle.
But she could not shoot.
She knew how it was done. Put in the magazine, rack the slide, look down the sight, and pull the trigger. She’d watched the trainers do it hundreds if not thousands of times. Firearms to them were almost extensions of their bodies, and they could reload so fast that sometimes she could barely see a pause between bursts.
Put a gun in her hands however, and she might as well be yelling at the targets for all the damage she was doing to the blasted things.
Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep
The alarm blared out after every miss, its mocking tone digging into Bellise’s eardrums, ringing so often and so fast that she would swear it was marking her off-target before the bullet even had time to reach the target. She was almost tempted to turn and fire at the alarm, were she not sure she’d miss that too and hit one of the instructors walking up and down the line of recruits fixing whatever minor errors in form they found. As one approached her, she took extra care to widen her stance, squint her eyes, and slowly pull the trigger.
Beep
Oh go fuck yourself.
The instructor simply shook his head and continued on. Oh come on, I don’t even rate a correction? Mercifully, the bell rang out, signaling the end of her shooting block. Bellise lowered the pistol, ejected the mag, and placed them both on the table in front of her. She turned and allowed the man behind her to step up and begin his block. He loaded the pistol, aimed, and fired in one smooth motion. She didn’t even have to look at the display over her head to know it was a perfect shot.
Frank Andrews was the type of recruit the scouts drooled over. Tall, muscled, a crack shot and smart as a whip. He knew it, and unfortunately he had seen fit that everyone else should see it too. He had quickly figured that the best way to make himself look good, was to make her look bad. “Sorry B, I think you almost hit it that time! Tell you what, if you manage to hit the target next time you’re up, I’ll let you clean Nancy for me!” He laughed.
“Nancy” was Frank’s prized possession. A massive 50 caliber rifle that would normally take two men to operate without breaking bones. On his massive 6’5” 250 pound frame however it fit perfectly. Bellise was about to tell him exactly what he could do with Nancy when the bell tolled, echoing down the long hall.
Bong, bong, bong
“Recruits! Form UP!” The booming voice rang out, easily drowning out the few tardy shots from recruits hoping for a lucky bulls-eye. Metal and plastic clattered lightly against wood as they laid their weapons down, and shuffled into a haphazard line, far too slowly for Instructor Nathma’s liking. “I said move! Gods above you all have to be the worst class I’ve seen walk through these halls in 20 years! How hard is it to stand in a straight line? I said FORM UP!” He roared suddenly, making the weak-kneed recruits near him shake as they tried to move closer together. One unlucky soul tripped over his own feet and crashed to the ground. Laughter rang out through the hall but was silenced just as quickly as it had begun with one look from Instructor Nathma. “Recruit Lovesmore, can you stand on your own two feet or must I get you training wheels to walk with?” More laughter, quieter this time as each recruit hoped to avoid being the target of Nathma’s ire. Lovesmore got to his feet, face burning, hands shaking, and they began to file out.
As they exited the range and thick concrete gave way to thin wood and marble, voices rose to fill the space, as classes let out and groups moved from one room to another. Cheery calls clashed with angry shouts forming a cacophony of noise full of sound but bereft of detail.
Following small firearms practice their group moved into Philosophy in Justice, Bellise’s favorite class. While she might not be able to shoot straight with a gun she could certainly do so with her arguments, and today's topic was one she had been preparing for for a while: Treatment of the guilty.
Instructor Nathma took post at the head of the classroom and read out the prompt in a voice surprisingly smooth and structured, as if he had not spent the last two hours yelling at several wet-behind-the-ears recruits on the distance between their feet when firing. “You’re called to the scene of a gang-related incident. When you arrive, several members from both sides lay dead along with many innocent bystanders. Left standing are two members from opposite sides. What do you do?” As he finished he made his way to the desk and seated himself away from the students and pulled out a file to take notes on the discussion.
As usual, Andrews started the debate
“Why bother bringing people like this in in the first place? I get it if we’re talking about someone who’s just a suspect but come on! You obviously know they both did it. I say you let them finish each other off and if one of ‘em happens to survive, you take care of them then and there. Quick, clean, and the only thing people gotta pay for is the bullet.”
“But where do you draw the line?” Bellise quickly interjected. “If we just start walking down the street shooting every person we think committed a crime-“ “-I didn’t say we should start shooting everyone we think littered or jaywalked” Frank interrupted “but yeah if I find someone who definitely killed a lot of people why shouldn’t I take care of business there and then? It’s safer for the public and it’s safer for me!” “Safer for you?” She was astonished. “You signed up for this job knowing the risks. Now you want to blow away every two-bit gangster who looks at you funny so you don’t get scared behind your bullet-proof vest and armor-plated car?”
Suddenly another voice chimed in from the back of the hall. “Just because we chose to take risks doesn’t mean we need to let those risks come to pass! If I’m in danger I’m not just going to lie down and die if I can help it, I’m going to fight!” The reedy tone of Harley Guent could make the most persuasive argument sound like the whining of a child, and it was hard for Bellise to imagine Harley fighting a cold, much less an armed and dangerous criminal. Still, the momentum of the discussion was clearly getting away from her, and she could feel it.
Frank felt it too, and wasted no time in taking full advantage. “B, remember what we’re talking about here. Someone who’s obviously guilty, and still presents a threat to others.” “But who decides whose “obviously guilty”, you?'' She fired back “That’s why we need a policy of bringing in everyone regardless of what we personally think they did or did not do. Otherwise we risk nothing but chaos on all sides. We’re supposed to represent order in this city, and that means accepting certain disadvantages against those who honor nothing but blood and death.”
She could see heads nodding around the room but Frank and his side wasn’t ready to give up just yet. “If you’re not willing to allow people to exercise their own best judgment then there’s no reason to give them authority in the first place.” He responded “Yes, people will make mistakes but what’s your alternative? Dead cops in the streets? Crime running rampant? Half of all fatalities from arrests come during the arrest itself, and you would make an already difficult job even harder by tying our hands! Besides you still haven’t answered the question, what do you do about the gangsters who just helped kill dozens of people over some petty squabble?”
All heads turned to Bellise and she paused for a second to collect her thoughts. She could argue that they deserved to be shot, as they were indeed still armed and dangerous, and nobody would blame her. However, it would be more honest to argue for bringing them in, more consistent with her original position. She took a breath, and began to speak.
“What we do, what we’re trying to protect here, isn’t just our lives, or the lives of others right here and now. What we’re truly trying to protect is our way of life. Our rights as citizens, the power given to us as enforcers of the law, these things come with responsibilities, with duties! If we just start deciding on our own what’s acceptable and what isn’t then there’s no telling what some people would try to do! Look, I know we want to think that every person who signs up for this job has the best of intentions, but the truth is some people just want the power inherent in the position. We need some rules so that everyone, regardless of why they joined up, is held to the same standard, and we can weed out the wrong people when they break those rules. Now I’m not saying there can’t be exigent circumstances necessitating lethal force, but that has to be a last resort when all other choices have been exercised. Frank, you ask me what I would do to those two men? I’d do what protocol tells me to do, firmly tell them to lay down their weapons and arrest them to stand trial. If either of them thinks about doing something stupid, then and only then do I put them down. That’s what I’d do.”
Bellise breathed hard, and slowly sat back down. She hadn’t even realized that she’d stood up, as lost in the moment as she’d been. Passionate speeches were normally not her forte, but the discussion had gotten her unusually worked up and she knew she had to say something. Scanning the room she found a mixed reaction to her words. Some looked impressed while others simply shook their heads at her. Let them judge me, She thought All I can say is what I know to be right. After a few seconds of silence Nathma stood to give out the next prompt, but stopped when his eye caught on a figure standing in the doorway. He gave a sharp salute causing the recruits to turn in their chairs and stand at attention when they saw who had just walked in. Bellise and the others knew him at once.
It wasn’t hard to imagine why. Grand Guardian Bradley Raymond was not what people expected when imagining an imposing leader, standing at five foot five and 180 pounds. Some might even think him too small or weak for the position. Former recruit Selden Meyers had said as much to his friends on the day of their initiation.
Former recruit Selden Meyers now spends his days eating through a tube.
“Instructor, I hate to interrupt what seems to be a fascinating lesson but I would like to borrow one of your students if I may?”
Bellise found the request mildly amusing. If he wanted to, Raymond could have asked Instructor Nathma to run laps around the complex until he dropped and he would have done it and thanked him for the privilege after. “Of course sir, who is it that you want?” Raymond scanned the room until his eyes met Bellise’s and she looked away quickly. He stood in silence for a few more moments before speaking once more, his soft voice easily carrying over the silenced room. “Recruit Brownstone, as of now your schedule for the day is cleared, report to the garage in one hour. Return to your quarters and don your patrol uniform, lateness will not be tolerated.” He turned, and left the room.
She felt numb as she rose from her seat. Why me? She wasn’t as smart as Lovesmore, she wasn’t as athletic as half the class, and, as much as it pained her to admit it, she couldn’t shoot with anywhere near the proficiency of Andrews. So why did Raymond want her?
Well, she supposed she’d find out soon enough. Slowly, she made her way to the front of the room, hearing muttering around her as she walked through the class, feeling pressed in on all sides, eyes fixed on her every move. Words drifted unbidden into her ears
Her? He wanted her?
The mousy girl? What can she do that I can’t?
Gives better head, if I had to guess
Her face turned bright red and she hurried her step. When she got out into the hall she stopped to catch her breath and leaned against the wall. Ok, calm down. She told herself You haven’t done anything wrong, he probably just wants to talk to you about being the only person to ever miss the target on every shot, that’s all. Yeah, he’ll just give you a medal or a ribbon and you can just head back to class.
She almost managed to convince herself. As she began the trek back to her quarters, however, a loud voice rang out from behind her.
“Ms. Brownstone, what the fuck are you doing heading out on patrol with the second most powerful man in this city?” Inwardly Bellise groaned, outwardly she turned and responded to the young lady rushing up to her so fast she could’ve sworn sparks shot up from her heels. “I forgot how fast word travels in this place. I’m pretty sure you knew before I did.”
“Knew what? That you’re apparently sleeping with a Guardian?”
“No! Gods, why does everyone think that?”
“Because I’ve seen you shoot.”
Bellise bit back her reply that Jen Oldstone didn’t even have the courage to try out patrol duty before jumping over to a desk job. While true, it would’ve surely alienated her from the one true friend she had in this place.
It wasn’t as though she could truly blame her anyways. Jen was good at her job, and it suited her well. Sorting and matching paperwork was easy when you had the perfect memory afforded by her neural implant, not to mention her incredible organizational skills, and that she didn’t even have to buy. Outside of all that though, there was one other reason why she couldn't have ever gone on patrol, even if she’d wanted to.
Jen Oldstone was very, very fat.
It wasn’t as though she didn’t try to lose weight. In her words “I look up all the tips and I try to control my portions, but what sort of monster only eats three ounces of chicken!?” So, safe to say she wasn’t going to be making much progress anytime soon.
“Look, all I know is that he wants someone to go with him as he checks something out. For all I know he just picked me at random and this is going to be a one-time thing, there’s really no need to make this more than it is.” Bellise didn’t believe the words even as they left her lips, Guardians didn’t do anything by chance so there must have been some reason why she was the one he wanted, even if she didn’t have the slightest idea why.
Word of the mysterious summons spread fast, and by the time the pair had gotten to the living halls the story had morphed and grown from an odd request to any number of outrageous accusations.
“I heard he wanted her as an assistant.” Spoke one man.
“I think she’s paying him off to pass basic.” She overheard a women saying
“I heard she did so bad at training that he wanted to fire her himself!” Said another.
She almost wished that last one was true. At least that way she could go home, back where the walls didn’t have ears and there wasn’t a pair of eyes lurking around every corner waiting to tell one person after another whatever it was they thought they had seen.
Finally, they reached her living quarters on the second floor. Room 238, her refuge. As Jen walked off, making her promise no fewer than three separate times to tell her every detail of whatever it was Raymond wanted of her, she finally managed to shut the door and slowly slid down its cool surface. Feelings of anxiety and doubt pressed in on her from all sides and before she knew it she was lying curled up in a ball on the floor, tears threatening to leak out of tightly shut eyes as her breath ran fast and shallow.
Calm down calm down calmdowncalmdowncalmdowncalmdownCALMDOWN!
Soon it was all she could do to force air into her lungs as black spots swam in the corners of her eyes. Not now, not again I thought I was past this! She did her best to remember the exercises her doctor had taught her. Breathe in, hold for 5 seconds, breathe out. Slowly, her heart slowed from a gallop to a mere trot, and she climbed back to her feet. Sweat made her hair cling to her forehead and her chest still throbbed with a dull ache, but it was manageable.
Looking at her watch she cursed. The walk to her room and subsequent panic attack had cost her forty minutes and she’d have to run to make sure she arrived at the garage on time. Great way to make a first impression, show up late and stinking of sweat. She had just enough time to hop in and out of a shower and don her patrol uniform. At least now she looked nearly presentable.
If she thought the attention was bad on her way back to her quarters, it was nothing compared to how people looked at her now. Are they staring because of the rumors or because I’m running like a madwoman?
Ah hell, it’s probably both
The one benefit of her crazed focus on timeliness, she didn’t have time to focus on what anyone else might’ve been thinking or saying. When she finally reached the outer door of the garage, she took a few crucial seconds to catch her breath. A few seconds late or not, it would hardly be fitting to stand in front of the Grand Guardian himself gasping like a fish. When she could finally stand and the burning in her lungs cooled from the third degree down to the first, she opened the door and carried herself with as much dignity as she could muster.
Raymond stood alone next to the passenger side of his vehicle and watched as she covered the nearly forty yards across hard concrete. He wasn’t hard to spot, at this time of day most of the patrol vehicles were in use, and her footsteps echoed through the empty space. When she finally reached him she stood at attention and delivered a crisp salute with her index finger touching her brow at a forty-five degree angle.
“Right on time, good.” He spoke while never raising his voice, still somehow managing to fill the empty room. Bellise had no doubt that whether standing right next to him, or at the other end of the hall, she’d be able to hear him no matter what.
“Recruit Bellise Brownstone reporting for duty.” She was taller than him by half a head, but she got the distinct feeling that he was somehow looking down at her all the same. The seconds stretched on, and Bellise felt a single bead of sweat make its slow journey down the back of her neck, tickling the skin as it went. Finally, Raymond simply stated “At ease” and she relaxed down to the ready position. He opened the door and motioned at her to get in and she did so. A few seconds later the driver side door opened and he sat down and started the vehicle.
As they pulled out of the garage Bellise opened her mouth to speak but was quickly silenced with a look from Raymond and a shake of his head. She felt her confusion grow as they continued to move out of the bustling city and into what small sections of countryside there were. What could he possibly want of her here? Finally, when they entered a thicket of woods, Raymond parked the car and motioned for her to get out. As she did so he turned off the vehicle and exited himself. They walked for a few minutes from the car before entering a clearing and finally Raymond apparently felt safe enough to speak.
“Alright, this should be far enough.” He leaned up against a tree and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. Bellise was shocked. “You can’t-those are illegal!” A ghost of a smile flitted across his face.
“Perks of the position. One of the few I have left as it turns out.” He pressed a small red button on the side of the cig and drew in a long, deep breath before speaking again. “Do you know what happens near the end of a Grand Guardian’s term?” Bellise simply looked on blankly, wondering where he was going with this. He sighed “No, I suppose you wouldn’t. Every five years I have to hear how many mistakes I’ve made, how I’m going to suddenly turn into a tyrant, and how much better the other guy would do in my place. It’s…” He stood in silence for a moment, taking another draw from the cigarette while searching for the right words. “The truth is I have made a lot of mistakes. Some of the things I’ve done to even get into this position…Sometimes I forget why I even ran in the first place. Well, it’s all moot anyways. Win or lose I’m leaving the position after the election, but before I go I’m doing one last good deed.”
Bellise was shocked. Resigning from leading the Guardians? Nobody had resigned front the position in a century! “Why?” was all she could ask. He turned his back to her and looked off into the setting sun, turning the sky into a bright crimson. When he spoke, his voice was oddly shaky, as if on the verge of breaking. “One mistake too many. I thought that when I was anointed I could use my power to make up for what I had to do to get it three times over. I was wrong. Ever since my first day in office I’ve had more chains around me than ever before. Now, we face a threat greater than this city has seen since Alaric III scarred the continent forever, and there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it.”
A familiar feeling of dread washed over Bellise as she listened to one of the most powerful men on the planet proclaim his inefficacy. What could possibly be so bad that not even Bradley Raymond could stop it?
“I-I don’t understand. Even if this is all true, why tell me? What can I do that you can’t?”
Raymond turned and looked her dead in the eye.
“That speech you gave in class today…It reminded me of who I used to be, why I joined up in the first place. Half your class has most likely already taken bribes, the rest simply haven’t been approaced yet. Anyone who tries to clean it up is either killed or sent far away enough to end whatever threat they posed.” That Bellise knew entirely too well. Her poor brother…
No, now is not the time for that. Raymond continued on.
“I need someone I can trust to be clean and honest working with me on this. I need to know that everything we find will stay between us, and I need to know that you’re willing to do what I tell you to do when I tell you to do it.” He studied her face for a long moment. “Can I trust you?”
She stood a little taller, looked him straight on and spoke with steel in her voice.
“Yes sir, you can.”