Ch. 2 - An Exercise In Pawns

Content Warning; Swearing, Mild display of Homophobia

↓ This is the Audio Companion for Chapter 2! ↓ 

    Joshua woke up from the bunk.

    He was back in the old barracks, in the city of Galvana. The dull yellow of the sun was shining through multiple windows, covering the inside with an incredibly ugly light. To top it all off, every other bunk was empty. He was all alone.

    I don't think I'm dreaming... but, god, I wish I was. Where is everyone?

    Did... did everything really happen last night?

    Joshua got himself up from the bed and attempted to orient himself with the windows. If what he thought happened yesterday... actually happened, he could prove it all the more real to himself by seeing it one more time.

    And, soon enough, he saw it, looming over the walls of Galvana.

    The light from the veil itself wasn't by any means overwhelming, but the effect it had on the surrounding light around it was... unique. The best way to describe it was that the veil was acting as a kind of shadow made of light itself. It didn't look real.

    Breathless, Joshua fell back to his bed, contemplating his memories of yesterday. Not because he felt he was missing some details, as if he'd completely forgotten something. As far as he could tell, he remembered everything.

    Rather, the moments themselves were what needed contemplating. He was convinced they weren't from a fever dream, but there was still such a strong element of unreality to them. It was as if the world around him was collapsing under it's own weight; Aliens were real, and they were here now, and they weren't just going to go away. They had to be dealt with, one way or another.

    "Bitch-Boy!" A voice called out from the other end of the room. Joshua turned to acknowledge, and was met with something hitting his face hard. It was made of fabric, and clung to his head.

    "Are you gonna wake up or am I gonna drag your ass out?"

    From their... demeanor, Joshua guessed it was an officer talking to him, but they walked out before he could confirm that. He pulled the fabric off his face to get a better look at it. It was some random, dirty undershirt. A white wife beater.

    Oh, I bet, Joshua thought to himself. Well, at least not too much has changed.

    Joshua left the barracks wearing the basic uniform of his platoon, and came to see everyone was gathered in the mess hall, going through breakfast. At this point, everybody seemed to be just socializing, as if nothing special was happening today. Joshua had never seen the army be this calm in his entire life.

    Through the crowded faces, he found Bran's, and made his way over to him.

    "God, have you  been asleep this whole time?" Bran said with a raised voice. While he was sitting at an isolated table - like usual - the soundscape of the hall was still overwhelming to a basic conversation.

    "No, I got up a while ago. I was just thinking about things."

    "Well, are you gonna get anything to eat?"

    Joshua hadn't even gotten a tray for himself. Eating... hadn't occurred to him.

    Feeling defeated by the suggestion, Joshua awkwardly walked towards the chef's table.

    Of course, Joshua wouldn't willingly call the chef a 'chef' if he had the chance. The only thing he seemed to be good at making was bland mushrooms and meat, if he was lucky enough to get that. Anything else besides that was just an indigestible slop. At least it was salty. Usually.

    "You got something to say, twerp?", a gravely, deep voice announced loudly over the heads of everyone.

    Ah. A fight in a mess hall in the military.

    Just getting out of the food line, Joshua made his way through the piles of bodies blocking any movement through the hall to see what exactly was going on. Not a lot of people were even trying to see for themselves, the hall is just that crowded regularly.

    "I said..."

    Joshua peeked his head through the mass of people quickly enough to see 'Ichael facing completely away from a behemoth of a man. His name was probably 'John'.

    "...you trying to say something?"

    'Ichael, completely unfazed - bored, even - set his tray down on the table in front of him, and turned around slowly.

    "Do you want me to say something?" 'Ichael asked, confusedly.

    'John' became visibly awkward around the question, and a bit more mad. "No, dumbass, you already started saying something."

    'Ichael continued. "Why would I say something to you? I don't want anything to do with you."

    'John' leaned back slightly, in shock.

    "Besides, even if I did say something, you were too busy harassing someone while I walked past for me to say anything."

    'John' started scowling.

    "These paranoid ideas you have... people talking behind your back and all that, aren't good for your mental health, man; let alone your public image. Like, no wonder you're so angry all the time, you think everyone's your enemy."

    'John' is hovering over 'Ichael's head now, who hasn't even bothered to back down. Joshua couldn't help but laugh to himself at the absurd imagery here, despite the very real possibility that 'Ichael could get killed.

    "Maybe it's all the meat & mushrooms that's doing it to you," 'Ichael continued. "Now, I know the other shit we eat isn't exactly... food, but if you went out of your way to change your diet, it might make you feel better."

    'John' leaned his head down closer to 'Ichael to try to intimidate him.

    "Are you telling me to eat shit?!" he said, in a deeper, harsher voice.

    "No, I said you should eat the shit-like non food, man. See what I mean? You're too angry to understand me."

    Joshua was trying very hard to keep himself from laughing any louder than he already was. 

    "Alright, THAT'S ENOUGH!" shouted Bran, stepping in between 'Ichael and 'John'. "Leave him alone, soldier," he continued, as he stared down 'John' while being about a good few inches shorter than him.

    "Oh, what are you gonna do about it, pretty boy?" 'John' retorted.

    Bran pulled 'John' by the shoulder, reached for the tip of his liver below the rib cage, and started gripping it, hard. 'John''s legs almost collapsed from the pain, as he was close to gasping for air at the sudden shock to his system.

    "Fuck off, or I'll report you. How about that?", Bran whispered, before pushing 'John' away.

    He had a hard time keeping himself from falling down, but eventually, 'John' found his footing again, while his face was red and his breath still hadn't fully come back. Breathing hard, he turned and saw Joshua to the side. Joshua smiled and waved.

    'John' scowled again, and turned back to Brandenson.

    "Everyone knows you've been fucking him, bitch," he said, while straightening himself back up.

    "You'll get what you deserve, one day."

    'John' turns around and disappears into the crowd, leaving Brandenson, Joshua and 'Ichael standing in the large, circular gap between them and everyone else; a gap that was present, seemingly not because people had seen the fight and stood back, but for another reason. The same reason as always.

    Bran turns to 'Ichael

    "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

    "...come on man, I'm okay," 'Ichael muttered, shrugging off Bran's hands while he tried to assess his well being. "He only touched me when he bumped into me. I'm completely fine."

    "Why do you keep on getting into fights?" Bran continued.

    "It's not like I go looking for any of it. I was minding my business."

    "You chose to antagonize him," Bran retorted, while keeping his sensitive tone.

    'Ichael fell silent, and started looking down to his side.

    "A lot of these people are assholes, I get it. I don't like the idea of playing nice with them either, and I don't pretend to like any of them. But I separate myself as much as I can from them, and that's easy for me because I'm an officer."

    "I know..."

    "I want to be around to keep you safe, but I can't do that all of the time. And on top of the whole invasion thing, you could easily get overwhelmed by someone if they decide that today is the day they kill someone if they're antsy enough."

    "...so how am I supposed to do that then?"

    ...

    Bran fell silent.

    "I'm stuck here, with these people around me all the time, and you two are the only friends I've had. And I don't even need to be antagonistic to get in trouble. I'm the youngest and smallest person I've ever known in my life, and I can't fight these people off."

    "Well..." Joshua started, coming closer to the other two, "...that is not entirely true."

    Bran and 'Ichael looked over to him. "What do you mean?" 'Ichael asked, before Joshua continued.

    "Yeah, you're smaller than most people - even smaller than me, and I'm not the best fighter either - but you don't need to be the best. Sometimes, having people think of you as weak is better than them thinking you're strong. Cause then, you catch them off guard and kick their ass."

    'Ichael didn't retort, but still looked unsure of that statement's validity.

    "Look, you saw what Bran did, right? He grabbed that guy's liver. You know how sensitive the liver is? That guy immediately stopped being aggressive cause of how much his liver being attacked hurt, not just because Bran's scary."

    'Ichael chuckled.

    Bran snorted. "Yeah. I mean, he called me 'pretty boy'."

    "And the liver's not the only spot - the kidneys, the gut in general, the groin; hell, even joints like the wrist can be hurt badly pretty easily if you apply enough pressure! All I'm saying is, you have plenty of options, man; You are never as defenseless as you think you are."

    'Ichael smirked. "Huh. Well... thanks. I'll try to keep all that in mind. Maybe...," 'Ichael continued, while shifting his gaze to Bran in a conniving expression, "...while I'm antagonizing the next asshole."

    "Oh now--" Bran started, laughing, "--don't you start, you little shit."

    Everyone started laughing, and continued laughing as they all ate through the rest of their time in the mess hall. It was the first time, as far as Joshua could remember, that a fight in the military ended "well" at all. And it was a good time for all of them.

    The air around the trio outside of the mess hall remained overwhelmingly joyful for the rest of the day. The best part of it was, according to Bran as the day went into the night, since the government was currently having a massive issue with figuring out what it should do about the whole 'Aliens' problem, they likely wouldn't have to worry about that good mood being interrupted today. A free day. In the military.

    It felt like all of the problems in their lives had disappeared.

    A stark contrast to last night.

    The General, Marshall and officers had grouped the soldiers into an approximation of their original formations, turning the group into a circle of men. The veil continued to flow in place, the white glow draping everyone in their true colors as the desert could no longer tint the light at night.

    The thrumming of the veil held it's presence in the air, despite it being softened from it's abrupt entrance into their world. For Joshua, it was almost hypnotic, in a calming way.

    The General and the Marshall stood far ahead of everyone else, studying the veil. 

    "What the hell is this supposed to be?" the Marshall barked to himself, almost defeatedly. He turned to the General, as if expecting him to know.

    "This can't be real," the General thought aloud. "This just... can't."

"Get over yourself, dammit!" The Marshall shouted as he brushed the General's shoulder. "If you're losing you're grip on reality, then the whole world is mad! It's here, and it's in our way!"

"Why?!?!" the General shouted back. "Where is this coming from? What--"

"I don't care why, or where, or for what! We are going to destroy that wart underneath! I'm not letting this get in my way."

"We don't know what this is capable of!" the general retorted, stepping back and frantically gesturing. "For all we know, it could vaporize us with a touch!"

"Well then," the Marshall quietly said while stepping closer, "why don't you do all of us a favor, and find out if it will?'

The General became more stern in his tone. "I'm not touching it."

The Marshall then gave the most enraged look he's likely ever given another man of similar authority.

"Then you are a coward."

He stomped over to the veil. He reached his hand out, and then hesitated, as he realized that a crowd of people on the other side of the veil had gathered, standing in confusion as they had been approached by a very angry man.

     "So help me, none of you filth will be safe another day," the Marshall growled. It was hard to determine if any of these people could actually hear him through the veil. And even if they could, they probably wouldn't understand him anyway. But the threat seemed to satisfy him, as he finally moved his hand again and...

The veil felt solid. Despite it's ebbing and flowing, it remained solid, with no discernible texture. It didn't feel like metal, or stone, or marble or any other solid object the Marshall had ever felt. Smooth, as an adjective, didn't seem to accurately describe it either; it was as if it surpassed the notion of smoothness so completely as to render the term obsolete. It didn't even leave a residual feeling on the Marshall's hand as he pulled it away. He might as well have never touched it.

The villagers touched the veil themselves, seeing the Marshall unharmed. It's qualities were held in a wary awe as they all experienced this phenomenon on a closer level.

The Marshall, seeming aggravated, tried to push the veil with his hand. But his hand didn't seem to have any effect on the form. In fact the opposite was true. His hand moved as the veil flowed, and no matter how hard he continued to push, the veil did not give way at all. 

The Marshall looked back to the soldiers, and started walking very quickly over to them.

Joshua could see that the Marshall was heading right towards him. He was then jerked out of position, with his gun still in his hands, as the Marshall dragged him over to the veil, and dropped him down to the sand.

"Shoot it," growled the Marshall.

Joshua brushed himself down and coughed out sand as he got his gun to his shoulder. The villagers stepped back in fear, retreating to walls nearby as Joshua's sights lined up.

He tapped the trigger, and the gunshot filled the air as quickly as it dissipated in the calm air, it's sharpness hurting Joshua's ears being so close to the veil. He lowered his gun and noticed that the bullet was inside of the veil...

...but there wasn't a hole. It just... wasn't there at all.

"Have you gone soft you little shit?!" the Marshall barked. "You stop shooting when I tell you to stop shooting!"

Joshua quickly attempted to lift his gun back up to fire, but the Marshall ripped it away from his hands, breaking the shoulder straps off as he did it.

The Marshall unloaded the rest of the clip, bearing his teeth like a rabid dog the entire time.

As Joshua looked for any signs of damage to the veil, he saw as the bullets themselves looked as if they were being frozen in place as they hit the veil. No holes, no cracks, no visible damage of any kind. Only the gunshots themselves seemed to have any power in the moment, and they still didn't stay for very long either.

After the clip was emptied, the Marshall threw it aside in a fit of rage, and stomped back to his vehicle.

As Joshua watched the bullets, he saw them... starting to turn to dust. The bullets quickly deteriorated to particles of metal, tiny specks that floated near each other, and started moving up the length of the structure, towards the giant object above the sky.

Then someone started pulling Joshua away from the veil as the air was filled with grunts of effort and the General shouting "STOP IT!!" Turning to see what was going on, Joshua saw as the Marshall was trying to throw a grenade towards the veil, the General grabbing his hand and stopping him, and Bran pulling Joshua back to 'Ichael, who was holding Joshua's gun.

The General slapped the Marshall in the face, hard, and finally managed to pull the grenade away from him. When Joshua could see the Marshall's face again, it was dark red, his eyes were bloodshot and almost bulging from the sockets.

"We can't do anything to this!" the General shouted as he gestured to the veil. "There's no point in wasting anything else on it! We're going back!"

The Marshall looked back to the General, flaring his nostrils so hard you could hear it a few yards away.

"Consider yourself lucky that I'm not handing you in."

The Marshall, seeing the futility in his anger, finally starts reserving himself, and makes his way to the same car he pulled a grenade out of. He was almost like a child being put in time out, if it wasn't for the fact that he could've seriously hurt Joshua. Or killed him.

The General turned to everyone else. "You heard me! There's nothing we can do. We're going back!"

Bran and 'Ichael pulled Joshua back to his feet, brushed him off, and made sure he was alright as they all got back into formation. The long walk back home would be quiet the entire way.

After everything was done, Joshua, Brandenson and 'Ichael were left to themselves in the barracks again, where they attempted to lighten the mood between themselves. The world as they knew it was crumbling before them, as the prospect of alien life was not only proven in an incredibly small amount of time, but had really made one of their 'bosses' very upset because his superiority couldn't be proven to the people his nation hated the most, let alone the men he was supposed to be leading. Sure, Joshua could've died, but the whole affair was still funny, in the same way attempting to attend the funerals of multiple people from the military is funny.

(It's funny because they all die in similar ways, believed in the same things, and will be 'remembered as they were' and all as basically the same person. At least in Joshua's experience.)

It was a tiring night, which left them no expectations of what could happen tomorrow, or any other time. But the laughter was the only thing that could make them all fall asleep.

A new day, more ugly light.

At least this time, Joshua wasn't getting yelled at by an officer. He woke up at the same time as everyone else, because this time, there was an actual wake up call. This could only mean one thing; the higher powers finally had some idea of what they're going to do, and put an actual schedule to follow back up.

Great. I was honestly enjoying not doing anything, Joshua moaned in his head. Reluctantly, but alertly, he got himself up and quickly jumped into his uniform while he had the chance.

It would've been nice to know what exactly everyone was waking up for, but with the commotion of everyone moving around, and the density of people between him and the officer giving orders, Joshua couldn't hear anything. The best he could reasonably hope for would be following other people's lead.

But as soon as he started stepping out of the barracks, the officer stopped him.

"Not you."

Joshua stood at attention, but he could still see a few soldiers ahead of his periphery turn to see what was happening.

"Second Officer Brandenson wants to see you in his new office."

...

What??

Second Officer?

He wants to see me?

A new office?

Joshua didn't exactly remember what position Bran was supposed to hold... but it absolutely wasn't as high as Second Officer of all things! And since when was he in line to get a new office, let alone a new position?!

"You're dismissed," said the officer, snapping Joshua back to reality.

He turned and almost bounded his way to the only place 'offices' could be, as questions boiled over in his head.

The National Tower of Galvana was a fully decorated, emerald, narrow skyscraper marking the geographic center of the city-state. It served as the sole bureaucratic government building outside of the warehouses for weapons and vehicles, and the barracks for soldiers. It's design was also particularly deceiving; despite it's color, the walls of the building were not actually constructed of emerald, but were just painted that color to make the building stick out from a distance. It was also bigger than it's needle-like construction would lead a lot of people to believe, as offices in many of the lower levels were built quite close to each other, and with the outer ones built into the slope of the walls going up to the top of the building. 

Thankfully, as Joshua could tell from looking at a floor map, Brandenson's office was on the ground floor, and very close by.

The hallway leading to it did seem a bit odd, though. The doors Joshua passed by didn't have any distinct labeling, but they were made out of wood. Seemingly, very old wood, as opposed to metal. His best guess led him to think these were janitor closets, maintenance rooms or anything else like that.

So he's Second Officer, but he gets an office other officers would never choose for themselves?

He found Bran's door, and knocked.

"Come in!"

Joshua peeked in.

"So what the hell's going on?"

"Don't--" Bran started, getting up from his desk and putting his finger to his lips. "Close the door before you start saying shit like that! Come in!" he ushered, quietly.

Joshua pushed the door shut and saw that, while Bran's office was sparse, there were still a few papers being organized and some furniture that hadn't been set yet. He approached his desk and rested his palms on it, feeling how light it seemed to move.

"Did you choose this desk?"

"No, I didn't. Funnily enough, I didn't plan a lot of this out. This was sprung on me."

"Why? Did they run out of new officers?"

"Probably not. If anything, I think something happened to the Marshall, and they're trying to fill his absence. I mean, I don't have a lot of proof he's gone but obviously something happened..."

"Yeah," Joshua absentmindedly said, looking down and absorbing Bran's words. "But then why did you get Second Officer?"

"Well... I might've been able to convince someone to let me in on something special."

"Convince?" Joshua looked up to see Bran shrugging and scratching his head.

"Well, it's not like I just got some person to listen to me about getting me an office, it was more complicated than that."

Joshua finally sat down, feeling a small story coming.

"Well?"

"Okay, so the General was worried about what these new guys want with the village. He wasn't talking specifically to anyone about it, just to himself. And then, I had the idea to mention, a bit out of turn... diplomacy. And the General seemed to like that idea. Especially after I reminded him that attacking the thing around the village didn't do any good for us in the first place. And, I said that it might be more beneficial to involve people who had the most interaction with the thing in the first place, since they could have an easier time managing relations as they wouldn't be as surprised by seeing aliens for the first time."

Bran looked at Joshua with a big, stupid smile.

"That's a lot of bullshit."

Bran laughed.

"Well, yeah, but a lot of this already is." He waved his hand at the side, and turned back to Joshua. "Anyways, that's where you come in."

Joshua felt a bit lost.

"What?"

"I said people who were there to see the invasion would be better off to reach out to our new neighbors."

Joshua wasn't quite getting it yet, as he squinted to his side, thinking.

And then it hit him.

"Wait... do you mean--"

"I do mean. Why do you think I wanted to see you?"

He wants me to be an ambassador?!

Joshua laughed in disbelief. "Why me?!"

"Well, I'm already an officer, so I'm gonna be busier than you, and besides the Marshall, who I don't think would be all that good at making first impressions... and is also nowhere to be seen..."

"Hang on!" Joshua exclaimed, exasperatedly. "I don't know anything about diplomacy!"

"I know. That's why," Bran continued, as he reached below his desk to bring up a large white binder of papers, "I've gotten a lot of stuff to help you with that."

Joshua, now feeling like the whole world was crashing in on him, felt like screaming.

"You want me to read all of that?!?"

"This isn't a test, Joshua. It's just a simplified guide." Bran said, in a calmer, but still very obviously amused voice.

Joshua sit still, staring at the binder, at a loss for words.

"Look," Bran said, more seriously now, "you said you didn't know how to do anything else. This is a chance. You get to do something else, and learn about whatever the hell's happening here. Big boy shit. It's not gonna be like living a 'normal' life, but if you can handle this, maybe we can do that too."

Joshua sighed.

"And it's not like you have much of a choice, anyway. It's either this or you go back to being around all those assholes." Bran gestured out towards his office door. "You can't tell me you wouldn't like to know what's going on."

Joshua narrowed his eyes, still not sure about agreeing with Bran's completely valid points.

"And to top it all off - because I can do this now - I'm not asking you, I'm ordering you."

Joshua looked back to Bran, and wryly smiled.

"How long have you wanted to say that to me?"

"Ever since I first met you. And it feels really good."

They both laughed out loud. If anyone was walking past the office door, they could probably hear them from the hallway.

"Alright, fine. I will do this, but I cannot guarantee that I'm gonna be the best person for this."

"I don't want you to be perfect."

The tone of Bran's voice struck some chord in Joshua's body. It felt oddly comforting, but ambiguously so.

It also couldn't help but inspire confidence in Joshua as he grabbed the binder, stood up from the desk, and half-heartedly, playfully saluted Bran.

"Yes, sir."