Roshma Book 1: The First Steps

For the first time, I slept with a gun. Every sound brought with it the possibility of death. Who knew when an assassin would come for my life? I knew too much now. The door creaked and I sprang up into action, my finger applying pressure to the trigger.

It was only Cierra and she looked terrified. The tension left my arm and the gun fell onto the bed, “You scared me, I thought you were, oh never mind.”

She was shaking as she said, “I just came to see if you’re okay. You’re all bloodied up and you didn’t say a word just went straight to your room. Why does someone with your abilities need a gun anyway?”

I felt so bad what had I done? I tried soften the blow of what I had just done, “I’ll be okay, it’s all going to be okay, and I’ve just been really stressed out by work lately.”

She started crying, “No it’s not stop saying that. It’s not going to be okay. You are not immortal. No one can do this to their body day in and day out. You’re going to die.”

With that she left, I threw the gun against the ground. There was no need for someone with my abilities to sleep with a gun, when I could blow them away with my bare hands

I was taken off guard by the situation and a couple of tears escaped form my eyes. They weren’t normal tears; they’re weight slowly pulled my face down until it was buried in my pillow. Crying made me feel a little better, a little lighter but my mind still swam with all of these thoughts. Thoughts of magical stones, secret orders, pirates and death all I wanted was a return to normalcy and stability. My thoughts raced around at the speed of light until my brain ran out of gas. I passed out.

Two realizations hit me when I woke up, I smelled awful and was really hungry. I hobbled into the bathroom and was surprised by the man in the mirror. What a mess, my face was streaked in blood and covered in stubble and my hair was more of a mess than usual.

The only way to remedy my haggard appearance was a hot shower. Each drop of water spat from the showerhead revitalized me. Blood, sweat and tears all washed down the drain. Steam filled the air and I vigorously wipe the condensation from the mirror eager to see my transformation. I was pleasantly surprised, the man staring back at me. Most of my wounds had healed. I proceeded to shave and tame my hair until that haggard bum went away and the old Tyerow came back. However, this was only an external transformation. Inside of me was a storm of emotions: Loss, hopelessness, and suffering to name a few.

My stomach reminded me that there was something else I needed to take care of before returning to the battlefield. I hadn’t eaten in like a day and a half, so a good portion of the rest of my day was spent eating; anything and everything in the fridge. Cierra and I talked for the first time since the incident. The topic of the conversation wasn’t important. All I do remember is somehow selling her on the idea that everything would be alright. She was naïve and bought it. As for me, I needed answers. The rest of my day was spent in desperate prayer. This was way beyond me.

Enter Katotta

This really sucked. Everything was awful. Life was pain and suffering at the moment. The only silver lining, my physician dug the shrapnel of the synthetic shell out of my arm. They had removed some of it at headquarters, but I guess they missed a piece.

Fixing my arm was only half the problem, emotional pain couldn’t be removed by a physician. The ache that came from losing a comrade was more than skin deep. Losing Mott was so hard. He had always been my friend, but once I was roped in the crazy adventure of joining the task, he became more than a friend. I loved Mott Blixer.

It was an innocent love, a platonic love. I don’t think Mott realized how much his friendship meant to me. In fact, I felt this love towards all of my crew. Westcon was obnoxious and Jon was hard to classify, but I loved them both. This was my primary group of friends who also happen to be my co-workers.

In fact, I have always been more comfortable in a group of guys than with girls. With girls there’s so much extra; dress, act, and look a certain way. That’s not to say I didn’t have my girlfriends as well. We went shopping and there were things we talked about that I wouldn’t mention to boys. However, because the top secret nature of my current job I couldn’t tell my girlfriends about my current problems. In, fact I couldn’t tell anyone, except for the task force but I didn’t want to burden them with my baggage on top of their own, we were all dealing with things in our own way.

Holding it all inside didn’t work either, it made things worse. I looked around at my estate seeing all of our material wealth. The Robatachi family had plenty of money but all the money in the world wouldn’t end this war or raise the dead. Mott’s fate lays in the hands of a magical stone. None of this made any sense.

I continued wondering about the estate as if a certain room would make me feel better, but they all felt the same cold and empty. As I exited the library on the second floor I ran into two of our maids, one was tiny the other was rather plump. They were very concerned about my well-being. They simultaneously gasped and the tiny maid pointed at my arm and said, “What in the world Happened to your arm?”

I was very candid with them and laid it out exactly as it had happened, “I was shot in the arm, and I can’t shoot for a while so I‘m basically useless.”

The tiny maid responded, “You need to be careful. What you do is very brave, but a beautiful woman like you need not be on the battlefield.” Everyone was always telling me the same thing, “it’s too dangerous. You don’t belong out those guys.” She sounded exactly like my dad.

I had done a good job of keeping myself composed until now. Something wet. Oh know my eyes were leaking again. I told the maids, “I have to leave.” This was followed by me sprinting to my room on the third floor.

The crying got worse once I was in my safe place. It was a disgusting sight, I hadn’t bathed, and my eyeliner ran down my tear stained face as I unsuccessfully tried to stop crying. There was an irony in this whole situation, I recalled a time when I chastised the rest of the Task force for going straight to sleep and not bathing after a mission. I wish those were the extent of my concerns now.

The crying lasted a couple of hours before my tear ducts ran dry. I was starting to get it together, but another wave of negative thoughts rolled over me, and I started feeling sorry for myself again. My problems started when that sniper killed my mom that was the first assault on Ms. Katotta’s perfect life. Then my dad was never home, those bandits took James and I was broke down almost beyond recovery. Now there was this, Mott was killed by a nine foot tall space alien/pirate whatever. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Sadness turned to anger. Anger gave way to a violent display of aggression. In this case included beating the crap out of my pillow while unleashing various profanities. It felt so good to get it all out, but it must have been a sight a crazy; a mad woman repeatedly slamming a pillow against the wall and screaming.

That’s when my father came in. He had a piece of cackerrae (a rare desert delicacy). He looked concerned as he asked, “Katotta Michelle Robatachi, what is the meaning of this? I came up here to visit you and heard all the commotion before I reached the door. And what is wrong with your arm happened to your arm? It’s wrapped up like a mummy.”

I explained to him very quickly, “Your daughter is angry because someone close to me is now dead. Also, getting shot in the arm by space pirates is no fun. Anyway, what does it matter to you? Why are you trying to be a father now? You’ve never been here for me before.”

He looked as if he was about to cry too as he replied, “I’ll admit I haven’t been the best father and with the war and everything going on with Robotics Inc. I practically live at the office, but I worry about my Katotta every day. You run around with those super friends getting into all kind of trouble. Trouble not for a 20 year old woman. When we lost mom, it almost broke me, and I’m not going to lose one of my daughter too.”

I was very frank with him, “That’s not fair, I lost mom too, and I know the risk of my job. Quitting the team would make life so much easier, but something inside won’t let me turn back. My first mission was on a whim, because they needed a sniper, but I ended up being crucial to our victory. They need me, but more importantly I need them.”

My father plopped down besides me on my bed and wrapped me in his arms and said, “Looking at us, no one would be able to tell we were father and daughter. Your vibrant hair and eye color are Avari traits from your mother. The nation of Avelios is an isolationist nation, but Kirsten Khalos was a woman with a mission much like yourself. Your mom didn’t agree with her parents on anything, but when she left Avelios to pursue her dream of living in the outside world they grew even further apart.”

I had to ask, “I’m glad she pursued her dreams, met you and then you had me, but what is the point of this story?”

Father was a little choked up as he continued, “The point is that even though her parents disagreed with her choices, she did what she thought was right. When Kirsten married me that was the last straw, her parents severed ties with their daughter. Soon after she gave birth to Taketto, but they didn’t show up. They had no interest in their half-breed granddaughter.”

I always wondered why I never saw my mom’s parents as a child, never got the real answer until now. Well good-riddance to them. If they can’t put their pre- conceived notions aside to accept their own grand- children I had no use for them anyway.

Pops continued, “Sometimes I regret buying you your first sniper riffle. You were so angry after mom die it seemed like it’s be a good way to blow off some steam. I wish you could have gone into business like your sister. However, unlike grandpa and grandma Khalos you are welcome in this household no matter what path you choose. I only have one request.”

I begged the question, “What would that request be?”

He Answered, “Promise me this, you won’t go out onto the battlefield until your arm is healed up. If you can’t shoot then you will be of no help to them.”

I gave him my word. He was right, it seemed everyone else was always right, Tyerow was right when he said I should stay home and my dad was right just now. I went to sleep and my dad set on my on the bed until he was sure I was okay. When he thought me to be asleep he lightly kissed me on the forehead and said, “ ”. I was supposedly asleep but I heard his words.

Enter Tyerow

Ding, I was woken up by the sound of my com-link going off. Turns out it was a message from Polanski reading, “I need you to come in immediately, there’s another assignment for you freaks.” I was looking forward to this mission because success meant bringing meant saving my friends life.

My com-link went off a second time, this time it was Katotta, I answered and she said, “Hey Tyerow, I really thought about what you said and you were right, without my ability to snipe, I’m a sitting duck. Not one to usually wave a white flag but I’m sitting this one out.”

I carefully thought about my words before they came out of my mouth, “Well I don’t feel like you’re a coward at all, in fact you’re the bravest woman, scratch that bravest person I know. You don’t have the powers we have, but you throw yourself in the fray with pirate’s assassins and anything that threatens the safety of this planet.”

She blushed. I could tell even without seeing her. “Don’t kid yourself, you ought to have seen me on my first mission, I was so scared.”

I was completely honest with her, “So was I, so was everyone but we did what we had to and so did you. That’s only the only thing you can do nothing they teach you at the academy will truly prepare you for this.”

Then she said something that really stuck with me, “Don’t ever change Tyerow. Don’t let all the loss and war make you bitter. It will get the rest of us but you’re incorruptible. This war won’t change you.” Those were nice words, but right now I just hoped we didn’t run into any trouble going after the stone. Our numbers were quickly dwindling no Mott and now Katotta was out of the picture too.

I rode through the streets of the city on my way to the “lawfirm” When I passed Minowa Street I could have sworn someone was calling my name. It was probably in my head, Mott’s death was doing things to me. However, it didn’t go away so then I turned around and saw a bunch of kids, trying to chase down my speeder. I eased my grip on the accelerator and let them catch up.

One of the little kids said, “Hey Mr. Tyerow.” It was adorable. I guess we were heroes, but I didn’t think I would ever get used to it. While one part of me who was uncomfortable my new found popularity, there was another part of me, who ate up all the attention. It was an honor to be those kids’ hero. Growing up, I didn’t have a lot of confidence in myself, but having a bunch of young kids rooting for me was a real confidence booster.

I arrived at headquarters, and it turned out I was the first member of the task force to get there. If this were any other job my comrades would be fired for always being late. With time to kill, I struck up a conversation with the receptionist about the weather and what-not.

The rest of the crew showed up about half an hour later, I understand how this would make Polanski mad, maybe if we all showed up on time one day, he wouldn’t be so mad all the time. Once we had all assembled, we made another descent into the dungeon to receive our mission. Polanski was the same as he always was, “Come on in you losers, we got another assignment.”

Then he went on like a long spiel, “I know that your numbers are few today with Mott in the hospital and Katotta’s bum arm. Well you all lucked out because today’s mission is not in the least bit dangerous. Today you guys aren’t storming bases, fighting assassins or even saving children from a burning building? Your job is to chase down some value item for the council so they can do God-knows-what.”

He took a deep breath, “If it was up to me, and we all know it ain’t, I would put you to work doing something useful. You all probably get the impression I don’t like you, this is partly true, but given the choice between you and the Council you’d win. They don’t even do anything, at least you guys help out the war effort. They just set around in robes, and act like they are above everyone.” This is the closest thing to a complement we’ll ever get from him.

He proceeded to digress, “I wanted to tell those squells to take a hike, but I can’t because they are my superiors. I tell you this world we inhabit is not one for old men. I worked my whole life for the military and what’s my “reward”? I’ll tell you, this is what I get, I’m in charge of you kids who think you’re heroes the world and have to take orders from these robbed weirdos.”

A.J. interceded, “We didn’t ask to be heroes, and I personal was fine with working undercover outside of the public eye.”

Polanski retorted, “I’m not accusing you all of anything but it’s funny how things “happen.” He got a distant look in his eye. He sat there for a while.

Against my better judgment I said, “Hey, the fame isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, I wish I could be behind the desk doing the behind the scenes stuff sometimes.”

To my surprise I saw a small smile creep across Polanski’s face as he said, “I would make that trade any day of the week and if I had the skills and resources you punks had this war would already be over.” With that we left on our mission.

Once outside of earshot of the office, Westcon said, “That was cool it was like I knew what Polanski was going to say before he even said it. This must be how Jon feels being all clairvoyant and stuff.”

Jon, visibly irritated replied, “I have telekinetic powers, that doesn’t allow me to see the future you idiot.” Then he went of talking about how to see the future you would have to be able to manipulate the space time continuum and all that stuff. I didn’t catch all of it, but sometimes you just had to let Jon talk just get it all out of his system, he really did know everything.

Polanski told us we would have to stop by the Hall of Council to pick up something. We already had that something, it was the tracking device that would lead us to the prize. In theory, this mission should be a piece of cake. We would pick up the stones and that would be the end of it. However, nothing was ever that easy.

Next thing I knew we were walking through the skyport. One of my favorite, parts of walking through the skyport were all the people. They were all so different small, some large some round some narrow, but they all waved at us. This wasn’t limited to only passerby’s and everyday Joe’s; no, even the commercial trafficking pilots in their deep blue suits would stop and wave to us. There were more people than I could ever get to know. They knew us because we were famous, but they knew us the same.

The attention was merely a distraction, and my thoughts quickly wondered back to the stone and the magic it held. A magic that could bring Mott back from the dead and the very purpose of our mission. I was mourning, excited and scared all at the same time, but at least I felt better today than the previous day. This was progress.

In fact, everyone was in a lot better mood, especially Westcon. Westcon humbled himself, a rare sight, “I’m really sorry for acting like a squell the other day, I regret how I treated Charles.”

I picked up my jaw off the floor, I was in shock, he apologized. He actually apologized! I was quick to forgive people for the most part but Jon was not as quick to do so. Not content to leave well enough alone, Jon twisted the knife of guilt a little bit more “Yeah you can say that again you were a real jerk the other day. In fact you’re a jerk every day.” Westcon and Jon started bickering and continued until we got to our dock.

Our dock was in a forgotten section of the skyport. Not many people ventured by here. There was a couple of rough looking guards the patrolled the gate. However, it wasn’t like the other areas of the skyport which were on high alert. Security practically did a full body search before you could get onto a commercial or transportation dock. We brought our weapons in our bag, everyone except for me, I preferred to use the guns that were already on the ship.

As I reached the dock, I took another look at our ship the Blue Sky Blazer as, that was my name for her, and boy was she a thing of beauty. Her almost Prussian blue paint job gleamed in the light of the Alpha Star. The hatch on her belly opened up inviting us in. Another mission was about to begin.