The Chronicles of Alec Blackwater Chapter XIII Picking up the pieces

Alec’s crew had arrived at Whisks building just in time to see a live feed from a drone over watching Alec’s progress. They had gathered around a work bench to watch the feed…to which Arial was not amused. “That’s it,” Arial said in an angry tone. “I’m informing the Council that Alec is un-stable for service.” “Now wait a minute,” Whisk stood up from his chair in anger. “He was in control, he could have very easily killed So Fawn, but he didn’t. It was the machine, Alec wouldn’t go that far.” “How do I know that,” Arial remarked, standing up from her own chair, across from Whisk. “His protocols are to kill threats of the City; look at the condition So Fawn is in. His ‘protocols’ are too dangerous! Also, he probably wanted revenge in the first place.” “First,” Whisk said, leaning on the table. “You don’t know Alec like I do, or do you know what he has been through. Second, the City FOTC Council approved of the Delta Mark series Exos, who are they to judge if one goes too far? Third, it was the FOTC Council that wrote the protocols of the Deltas in the first place and they designed to do whatever is necessary to protect the City at all cost. I know Alec; he did all he could to keep the machine he’s in from tearing So Fawn apart. Revenge? Ha, Alec doesn’t want revenge, he wants to make sure the fate that has befallen so many like himself, doesn’t happen to others.” Arial sat down at the table and thought for a minute to her-self. “Alright,” Arial said in a calm voice. “I don’t know Alec like you and I don’t know his past, personally. I do know that the Delta Exos are made strictly for combat….strictly. I have not seen his protocols, but understand that they are quite brutal and violent towards threats of any kind. I understand that deep inside that metal shell, a man resides within, or at least what remains of him. I’ll give him a second chance.” “Good.” Whisk responded. Soon the team was discussing when they should get Alec out of the wastelands. When Arial received a message confirming So Fawns capture, though in critical condition, they decided it was time to pick Alec up. Boarding the Leviathan one by one; Boris, Whisk, Arial, and Jk-Bx took their seats and took off. “So, uh,” Pheln began to speak to Lyle. “What do you think is going to happen now?” Lyle scratched his red beard and looked over at Pheln. “I’m not sure, boyo,” Lyle started to say with a yawn. “But they best be careful.” After So Fawn was picked up, Alec took to putting the remains of the Mercs in the field so that they may be taken back to the City to be buried properly; he also gathered their equipment and gear. Alec soon found himself leaning his back against a tree, his mind slowly fading into his “sleep mode” from the shock of what he had done to So Fawn. His mind returned to his last dram where it left off….. “What happened to him?” Alec asked again. “He was killed during what was called: The Widow Makers last stand,” Spencer began to say. “I just remember General Phlax himself came to my Aunt Janice’s’ residence to deliver the news he was killed. I was nine at the time, not even three years at the academy when it happened. Phlax just brought us a medal, a rare thing for a Guardian to receive. The Vanguard Cross of Valor, it was one of the rarest ones to receive, very few were ever handed out. It had a rare white gold cross, with a gem in the center of it more beautiful than any gem I’d ever seen; it glowed with a blue light around it, and looked like it had captured some of the galaxies in its center. It was made from materials made or found from the Golden Age. Phlax looked at me when he handed the case to me and said: ‘Remember him well, he died a true Guardian.’ I tried to remember him; almost two years ago my dad was an alcoholic, lost in his drink over my mother dying. He would abuse me badly, forcing me to train beyond what even the Spartan academy would have permitted. One night though, he came home drunk again, but instead of coming into my room to yell and beat me, he pulled me out of my bed as he knelled next to it, also forcing me to kneel beside him.” “Why?” Alec asked. “He was praying,” Spencer said, looking into the statues yes. “He had stopped in at some church while on his way back from the bar, felt guilty for his behavior; he had always promised mom to go back one day. Well, that was the night he turned back to his Faith, said things would be different…and they were; he dried out, started treating me like a son again, and started being the mentor at the academy that I needed him to be. When he died, Phlax took his place as my mentor, putting me through hell until graduation nine years later. I remember graduation like it was yesterday; we were all dressed in our uniforms standing at attention outside the FOTC building. Speeches were given, awards presented, and the Traveler glowed. I hadn’t yet received my token of graduation from Phlax, who stood promptly in front of me, arms behind his back, looking down at me with his Sapphire eyes. When all had settled, he motioned to his left for a young cadet to come to him. The cadet carried something in his hands and arms, covered with a small Vanguard flag. As he approached and stopped, Phlax removed the flag, revealing my father’s Spartan helmet. It was just like I remembered it, all scared up, bronze tinted, and heavy. I took it into my hands in disbelief, why had Phlax kept it from me all these years. “Wear it well,” Phlax said. “It takes a strong neck to where that helmet, a stronger will and faith to accomplish the task demanded by our enemies now await you. Use it to strike fear into your enemies’ hearts…for surely, their descendants may recall a story of a Spartan who wore it before you, descendants who saw the footage of their many brothers, fathers, and comrades get sent to the gates of whatever God or Hell they believed in, at the hands of a true Spartan Warrior of the Last City.” “Some time later, about four years, Phlax showed me something….” Spencer continued. “What?” Alec asked. [b]Flashback to be continued….[/b] Alec was awakened to the sound of the Leviathans engines roaring overhead, the trees and grass being stirred by the breeze made by its sudden entry into the now calm clearing. Alec stood up from the tree, looking at the Leviathans cargo door, Whisk and Arial standing at the back looking at him. As he approached, Arial’s expression read one of distaste, while Whisks’ was one of no emotion, he knew Alec did what he had to do and that what he did to So Fawn wasn’t Justice, but plain anger and brutality. “Got some new gear, I see.” Whisk yelled at Alec, the ship's engines powering down. “Yeah.” Alec said in a soft tone. Arial and Whisk walked down the cargo ramp onto the grass, Boris stumbling behind them. “Wow, *urp*” Boris burped. “Haven’t been to the woods for long time! Not since childhood, very young, maybe seven…or eight. Oh, it was fun! Snipe hunting, camping, hunting….” Boris continued on as Whisk, Alec, and Arial loaded the new found equipment inside the Leviathans armory. Arial didn’t say two words to Alec the whole time, she just looked away from him, and Alec couldn’t tell if she was mad or just disappointed with his actions. After Boris emptied his bladder, no doubt killing some endangered species of plant life and his breath giving off an odor strong enough to be smelled miles away, the Leviathan was sailing back to the Last City. “The bodies will be picked up soon,” Arial said, looking at a small screen on the console showing images of a jungle (which looked like Venus). “So don’t worry about them anymore.” “I’m-“Alec had begun to say. “Don’t,” Arial said with a start. “What's done is done. The Council will overlook it this time, next time though, I don’t know. Though, So Fawn sung like a canary when he was conscious a few hours ago, begging not to let near you or any other mechanical killing machine again. It’s over and done with now Alec, let’s move on.” Alec nodded in acknowledgement, waiting for her to continue speaking. Whisk was sitting in a seat across from Arial, flipping around a butterfly knife; the blade was about seven inches long and wasn’t metal, but was a red, ceramic like material that didn’t glint in the light. [b]Continued below[/b]