An old tatty book

The day was growing long as the tactical team sat around the battle simulator. A typically nerdy looking man was explaining the new equipment.

Man - As I was saying, we acquired the technology for this from a Britanian battle station. We've modified it a bit and here how it works. During combat you can see our troops as little red triangles on the holographic screen. Any enemy units that are seen by the troops will be updated to the machine via their helmets. Thus keeping the battlefield up to date for you. As we know more about the technology we will let you know.

At that he bows and leaves the room. A rather bulky man stands up and addresses the group. He has the old fashion general stripes on his chest.

General - As you are all probably aware the Britanian army is growing by the day and their weaponry is advancing at the same pace. I suggest we strike soon. Before it's too late. They are strong enough as it is.

He slams his fist down on the table the force disrupting the holograms.

The holograms were indeed impressive, if somewhat crude, and the equipment would certainly provide them with a clearer picture of the battlefield; however, that did little to alleviate the concern in the mind of the Maresal. The usefulness of the technology did not outweigh the fact that Britania undoubtably has similar and possibly superior machines sharing the same advantage. Although, that did not render the demonstration completely redundant.

Maresal's Thoughts - As expected, my field-general leaps straight to promoting the offensive. One slight advancement in our knowledge and he calls for war. Was my choice of appointing him an act of wisdom or folly?

Maresal - "Strike? How?"

The general was slightly taken back by this response.

General - How? umm well? I believe you sent the stealth force to gather us info on the knighmare's. Surely we need to provide as much of a distraction as possible. They are in enemy territory after all. They are advancing on South Asia and we cannot afford to lose it.

He was grabbing for reasons having never been one for thinking on his feet. He relaxes slightly as some mutters of agreement emit from the previous silent members.

Maresal - "Incorrect. If we attack them, all Britanian regiments will be informed and placed on alert in case they too are targetted. The enemy is smart, responsive and above all, cautious. The only way the stealth team will be able to complete their task successfully is if we do nothing. The enemy's guard will be more relaxed and therefore, penetrable."

The Maresal glanced around the room. Each of his advisors had their eyes firmly locked on him. Pondering how next to proceed, he moved his gaze back to the general.

Maresal - "Action is the proper fruit of knowledge. Whilst I refrain from attacking the Britanians, I do not mean to sit here idle. Perhaps you have another suggestion?"

The general grunts in disappointment before mumbling something about strengthening their defences. The head of development addresses the group.

HOD - I suggest we come up with something to counter these Knightmare. They seem unstoppable, at this rate no matter our numbers we will be decimated.

General noises of acceptance once again fill the room. They all turn to wait for the reply from the Maresal.

Maresal - "All we know of them are their destructive capabilities. We have nothing with such technology to go up against them in direct battle. Until we see plans, finding a weak point in their construction wont be simple."

Clasping his hands behind his back, the Maresal addresses the field-general.

Maresal - "Strengthen the defences in any way you see fit. I trust your judgement."

To the HOD

Maresal - "For now, continue researching and developing technology such as this simulator. In particular, I would ask you to focus on scout equipment incorporating the usual visual-audio capture but also thermal, radioactive and electrical sensors"

To the Head of Communications

Maresal - "Contact the leader of the stealth team and get an update on their status. I will await your report."

To the whole council of advisors

Maresal - "Are there any further points to be adressed before I retire?"

They all nodded and rushed off doing various menial tasks. As the Maresal got up he the general disappointingly looked at him once more before also getting up. As Maresal left the room he meanders gently to his room. When he reaches his door he pauses briefly before opening having a slight feeling of unrest. As he entered his room light flooded in from behind him. From what he could tell there seemed to be someone or something sat on his chair.

Sighing, the Maresal closes the door carefully and turns, leaning his back against the rough oak. He watches the shadowy figure for a few seconds before addressing the darkness.

Maresal - "And who might you be?"

The figure sat still eerily not moving an inch. It spoke out, his voice clearly masculine and very calm.

Figure - My name? That is of no importance. I am a friend and that is all you need to know. I believe you are in dire need of my services. You should feel honoured, I so rarely offer to help people such as yourself.

The Maresal was taken aback slightly by the reply.

Maresal - "Any help to our cause is always greatly appreciated. However, whilst I retain humility, a certain amount of respect is due to those of rank. Courtesy is free, friend. You would do well to remember."

Forgoing the lights, the Maresal moves further through the darkness to sit himself upon his cushioned bed. He takes another look at the shadowy figure, something in his voice struck a familiar chord in the Maresal's mind but he could not place it and yet he still did not call for light. Why, he could not say.

Maresal - "Now, honourable one, what services might you lend us?"

The figure stayed hidden but the Maresal could feel his eyes looking at him as a chill swept his body.

Figure - I have no regards for your "ranks" those with skill are raised above and those without are left behind to die. This has been the nature of this world for century's. If i name would help you, you may call me Kivuli, my men and I will help you. I assure you we can be quite ... useful... on the battlefield.

An officer approached the door timidly addressing the Maresal when it shut abruptly by itself in his face.

Kivuli - I do hate interruptions.

The Maresal stood up indignantly.

Maresal - "Whilst I might well consider the possibility of calling you ally, I will not accept such barbarity towards those under my command."

The Maresal sat back down. It was clear to him that locking horns with this man would not gain him any headway. Plus, this man was offering to help the resistance. Help was not a common commodity, especially freely offered. He regarded Kivuli carefully, shaking his head sadly.

Maresal - "There are many who could take my place and do a better job than I. I may not be skilled sir but indulge this old fool, i pray you. Our rebellion is growing but not fast enough. Any help, any benefit you can bring to our cause will not..no..cannot, be disregarded. I will accept what help you see fit to lend. However, I must ask sir that you show my forces respect. Rule through fear, rule through respect, rule through skill, our means tailor to the same end."

Kivuli - Very Well, Consider us you Ace card. My men will not listen to you, of that i have no doubt. Relay your orders to me and I shall dispense them, If you are sure you can win this war we will fight for you till the bitter end. I'm sure you are aware of this but I, like yourself. am a contractor.

He voice seemed to be softening however still void of all emotion. When he spoke his words seemed to turn the vary air stale.

Kivuli - I am sure you wonder what I stand to gain form all this however it is nothing that you need concern yourself with. My men and I will be available to help when and where ever. Just ring the number on you desk.

As the Maresal eye looked to the desk in question he could see a deck of cards. When he returned his gaze upon the man there was nothing but an empty seat. The air seemed pure once more as his presence was gone.

Maresal's Thoughts - A contractor. And it would appear this Kivuli has some power over light? No. Shadow would be more apt. And it seems he can use them to travel? I wonder what price such an ability must tender...

The Maresal took the now-vacated seat beside his desk. His eyebrow creased.

Maresal - "Desklight on"

Light sprang into the voice-activated lamp, positioned at the end of the varnished, oaken table. Full of curiosity, he picks up the top card from the deck and examines it closely.

As He draws the top card he is holding an ace of spades. The ink on the cards however seem to be odd, almost alive. The longer he focuses on it the more he is certain the substance is moving. He Flicks through the remaining cards finding nothing of interest yet still decided not to touch the substance just yet. He remains looking at it still unaware of it origin.

Suddenly remembering the officer outside of his door, the Maresal tears his eyes away from the cards and stands up. He walks slowly towards the door, giving himself time to collect his mind together after that rather strange encounter with the mysterious stranger.

Maresal's Thoughts - Kivuli..an interesting name..a pseudonym perhaps?

He reaches for the door knob.

Maresal's Thoughts - Is he truly generous to our cause or am I being duped?

Feelings his wits becoming befuddled, he puts the stranger, the cards and the feeling of foreboding from his mind.

Maresal's Thoughts - No time. I have a rebellion to lead.

He opens the door.

As he opens the door he sees his usual messenger stood there. A rather clumsy individual in a basic shirt and tie combo. He stands to attention even after the thousands of times you have asked him not to be so formal.

Jake - Report from the stealth core, Sir. The attack seems to have been expected. Are they to continue the assault.

He stood there rigid looking horribly uncomfortable awaiting a reply.

Maresal's Thoughts - As expected, the Britanian's don't disappoint. Shame... But if they truly did see it coming then we must assume they have a counter-measure prepared. However, if we retreat now, we lose the chance to snag a vital advantage. Do I dare risk their lives?..

He looks at the young messenger and smiles warmly.

Maresal's Thoughts - To be part of such a war at so young an age...

Maresal - "What would you do Jake?"

Jake almost jumped back out of shock. He looked nervously around trying desperately to come up with an acceptable answer. After a short amount of time her just hangs his head and speaks.

Jake - Ummm, I ... don't know sir I have no field training what so ever this decision is far beyond my capabilities.

Maresal - "Forgive me Jake, I did not mean to alarm you. Please tell communications to order the stealth team to stop the attack. They are not to fire needlessly at the Britanian's until they are sure of what they face. Tell them to stay back and observe them. They are to keep communications informed on a regular basis. If the situation changes drastically, the leader of the stealth team has full authority to handle the situation to the best of his abilities in the way he deems best."

He leans forward and places a fatherly hand on the messenger's shoulder.

Maresal - "And one last thing. If they are able to gather any visual captures of the enemies' faces, that would be most helpful."

Standing aside to let the messenger relay the message, the Maresal turns back towards his room. He stops midstride and turns back.

Maresal - "Oh and you must forgive me for earlier. My door is most impolite. It will remember its manners in future."

Jake nodded in acknowledgement and bowed before the Maresal and rushed off. The Maresal returned to his room this time flicking on the light. He slumped down on his bed and replayed the nights happenings attempting to make sense of things. After a short amount of time Jake's voice can be heard from the other side of the closed door sounding rather distressed.

Jake - Sir, I'm umm sorry to bother you during your own time however there seems to be a problem with our main communication satellite station. It's believed to be another Britanian support group. More and more of our people seem to be joining them by the day sir. What are we to do?

Sighing softly, the old man shook his head.

Maresal - "It seems I will just have to trust in the stealth leader's judgement. I appointed him to the position based on his merits and leadership. If my choice was well placed, he shall handle the situation accordingly. If not, then the rebellion will move forward in another direction."

Dismissing the messenger, he returned to staring blankly at the opposite wall. His thoughts strayed back to the mysterious visitor.

As he stares intently at the wall his hearing seems to fade as the noise of the outside base drowns into nothingness. As he shakes his head he manages to refocus on the sounds around him. A short while later the same odd thing happens again. No noise and no reason. He knocks his lamp onto the floor only to watch it silently smash. He stands staring, confused at the goings on. A muffled voice speaks as he once again regains his hearing.

Jake - Sir? Is everything OK in there? I heard a crashing noise is all.

Maresal - "No need to worry Jake. It was an accident."

He feigned a smile at the young boy in reassurance. It would not do to show weakness. The rebellion was built on strength and intelligence and it rested on his shoulders. What is wrong with me? He gripped the side of the bed and closed his eyes. Old age finally catching up with me? No, I feel fit as a fiddle. An old fiddle anyway. Could it be health related? No, hearing would not disappear and reappear in such drastic ways. What could cause it? Surely it would have to be something out of the ordinary. And the only happening out of the ordinary today was...

Maresal - "Shadow..."

As jake leaves fooled by the old mans charade the hearing once again fades out but this time one noise can be heard albeit faintly the subtle beeping of a heart monitor. As his hearing returned the noise had vanished. He stood perplexed by the events. Unable to come with an explanation when what were seeming to be in regular intervals the silence echoing the beep returned however crisper and louder than before.