Comrades Sparring

“Are the plans to raid the compound still set, Colonel?”

“Negative, the clever bitch has been buying them the whole time. Tell the men to stand down. She’s doing nothing wrong from what I could gather. The receipts all seem to be in order and everything’s been legal, suspicions or otherwise.”

“And the other missions, cancelled as well?”

“No. They are all still set to proceed, should the need arise. Standby for orders to those concerns.”

“As you order, Colonel.”

“…And Lieutenant…the usual discretion. Say nothing, tell no one.”

“Our loyalty is with you, Colonel. For God and Empire.”

--

Raphael sat on the edge of the bleacher, cheering with the soldiers around him. A gunner made a fateful misstep and found himself being felled from the vicious blow of a young marine on the verge of collapse himself. Raphael sprang to his feet and roar approval, accompanied by a majority of the crowd. The young marine raised his hands in triumph, bellowing a victorious cry.

Raphael had come here to get his mind off of his recent frustrations, most of which had to do with the capsuleer corporation of which he found himself part. The Knighthood of the Merciful Crown seemed anything but, with a few of its member’s haste to see him burned. It seems that one must hold their tongue in the presence of its members.

Not only had a certain Brutor rushed to relay Raphael’s words, like a child tattling, but some unknown woman had even tried to involve herself when she knew nothing of what was going on. It seemed that the man who betrayed not only his heritage, but the woman who took him in, commanded the trust of the Knighthood; a seeming number of fresh faces surged from the woodwork to support his cause. The Brutor’s efforts proved futile in the short run, but Raphael could not afford the entire Knighthood to speak against him. The organization further proves itself of little worth to him.

And that fucking apparition. Raphael found himself further vexed by Shalee’s second personality. Once a valuable look into the inner workings of her mind, the little girl now seemed to be a thorn in his side, rallying the Brutor against him. It commanded him, and he obeyed; yet the slave. The hologram had once been her subconscious, but it now acted as if it’s own entity. It possessed knowledge she did not, and acted far from Shalee would. Perhaps the time was approaching for the reveal to Shalee.

The girl had spoken of a ‘Jacke’ being her informant regarding Raphael’s conversations. Raphael had not known who she was talking of at the time, but a later inquiry into the Knighthood records revealed the residence of a small boy within its halls. This little Brutor obviously served as yet another set of eyes and ears of the phantom – of Red – observing what Red could not; happenings during Shalee’s waking hours. Raphael had little need of yet another set against him, made especially true of the boy’s heritage. Should it come to it, the threat of a young boy would easily be overcome.

Yet another match concluded in the ring, more loud applause erupting from the crowd. After adulations had been passed to the victor and he had been ushered from the arena, another man stepped into the circle looking for boasting rights. The light glinted off his sweaty dark skin, the man having already whipped himself into a fervor whilst watching the earlier matches from the crowd. He challenged the crowd, looking for an opponent to take him on. He stood for several seconds unanswered, slowly spinning to challenge the crowd. Raphael slipped his coat from his shoulders and loosened his collar, taking deliberate steps down the stairs as he descended into the ring. He had plenty of frustration to work out, and this man struck a fitting image for its focus.