FORCE TROOPERS - Prologue: GARDEN

The Garden’s atmosphere was different. A sense of urgency, the sound of footsteps moving as uniformed soldier-engineers rush to stations. Distant alarms blare, a repeating sound of six notes followed by a shrill scream: a category six planetfall.

A young man sprints through the space station’s wide open corridors, squeezing his way past dozens of guards and checkpoints.

One of them stops him, rifle raised as the man barely stops his advance. “Professor Adrian Kemos, code Sierra-One-Five.” He answers.

The guard nods, waving the three meter thick blast doors open.

Central Control was chaotic, human Officers glued to monitors as the icon of G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R. swirls on the colossal air-screen at the very end of the massive room. Orders exchanged, 

A pair of eyes turns, one of the Command Officers standing from his console and jogging over to the Professor with haste. “Kemos.” He waves. “Good to see you!”

“Watcher Jospehi.” Professor Kemos smiles. “I thought you’d be Earth-Side right now.”

“I did too.” The Officer nods. “Did the data I send help?”

The Professor grimly nods. “Yes it did. I have the compiled projections right here.” The Professor lifts the hand-display. “What we talked about… well what you said was right.”

Josephi smiles brimley. “Yeah, we know. Forcer Command’s been talking about your projections for months now. All that’s left is the Defense Council.”

The Professor turns. “Sorry Joesphi but I must go.The… ”

“Just remember: make it good.” Watcher Josephi smiles, in his peripheral vision the tracking of the incoming planetfall was highlighted in a deep strobing red on the main screen. The man sighs. “If you don’t… well there will be drastic consequences. Five hundred trillion souls are resting on this.”

“Of course, I’ll try my best.” Kemos separates from his friend, the pair mobilizing to their respective assignments. 

Within the final blast doors the six human members of the Defense Council sit, each one encased in a meter of armor and preservation fluid flanking the approach. The Seventh member turns as Professor Kemos enters, the holographic figure of G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R. a thin middle-aged woman wearing a military-style uniform for this meeting.

One of the Council members continues her conversation, unfazed by the intrusion as she raspes out a counter-argument. “... six can be dealt with without Forcer deployment. Casualties will be high, however it continues…”

“Professor Kemos.” G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R. acknowledges, her smooth voice guiding the council’s attention towards the man. “Your timing is… impeccable.”

A Council member speaks, words from preserved vocal cords barely audible even with enhancement. “Make it short, Professor.”

“Give the man some respect.” Another speaks, their augmented voice as robotic as their machine companion. “If G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R. has called him it must be important.”

There’s a pause as Kemos feels a chill run down his spine.

“It must be important.” The voice repeats. “Correct?”

The Professor takes a deep breath, taking out his hand-display as he transfers data into Garden’s central server. For a moment G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R. gives an amused smile, her expression turning into a frown as the machine intelligence reads through the data in real-time.

“This is an unexpected result.” She notes as she sends the downloaded report to the Council, turning to them with a flat expression. “Professor Kemos is a member of the Cyprus Research Node, its focus is on the development of the current planetfall warning system. However, I have personally…  recruited him for consulting work within the Forcer-Pilot Program.”

“And who authorized this transfer?!” A council member roars.

The silence prevails for a moment. 

“Primary Protocol One.” G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R. answers. “I have decided that his presence within the Program is integral in the preservation of human life.”

“And under what specifications have you justified this?!”

“A report, of which questionable results have been raised.” Another member of the council scoffs.

“A report that contains classified data!” A member yells. “Where did he find…”

“It has been provided by the Program.” G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R. answers. “Now, as Council Member Z̶̛̕á̷̵͝r̶͞҉̢u̵̧p̴̨̛ą̴̷́͢ has noted, I suggest that the report given will need to be consumed before further discussion.”

The grumbles aren’t broadcasted, ancient minds deleting the report as it comes. Professor Kemos stands idle, watching as the holographic projection of G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R. stares directly at him with a small smile.

“This result is… against current doctrine.” One of the council members rasps. “Are the projections even correct?”

“I have reviewed the data and have confirmed the findings.” G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R. nods.

“This is just a political move.” Another answers. “This is all just…”

“Professor.” G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R. interrupts. “Summarize the findings.”

Kemos takes a deep breath, beginning as he attempts to call attention towards his thin frame. “Humanity’s been at war for the past three thousand years, and in these past three thousand years there have been four planetfalls every year. Exactly four. From category one to category five.”

G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R. displays the data, chart folding out on a holographic display at the center of the chamber.

He lets his words settle before continuing. “Last month alone, there have been ten planetfalls. None of which have been below category four.”

The council remains silent, deafening in its consideration.

“And what is the conclusion you have come to?” A member of the council speaks.

“Does he need to say it?” Another sighs.

“All political.” One of the council members continues. “G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R. answer this question honestly under protocol three of the artificial intelligence code: what is your intention with the Forcer Program at current?”

The machine stops, scowling upon her holographic projection. “The current plan is the Escalation of Forcer creation and Pilot recruitment. Followed by the increased deployment of higher category Force Tro…”

“That is enough.” The council member interrupts. “This meeting is pointless if it’s going to be another repeat of the cyclical funding budget. I raise to adjourn this… ”

“Excuse me.” The Professor coughs, attention now turned towards the interrupter. “The results of this past cycle have made no choice clear. I was merely brought to present the data that the Forcer Programs have collected over the course of the… ”

“Forcer Programs?!” One of the council members interrupts. “Explain.”

G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R. nods, the Professor sending the hidden data within his hand-display out towards the Garden’s central network. A clear smile is brought to light within the cold machine’s display, the Council members falling silent.

“I have received combat data from Forcer A.I.s in order to better estimate casualties on a per-deployment measurement. Overall the…”

A counselor scoffs. “And this man trusts Forcer A.I.s?!”

“The data is not reliable.” Another supports. “Forcer A.I.s are inherently deceitful.”

Murmurs of agreement echo the chamber.

G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R. speaks her objection. “The point, however, is not in Forcer loyalty. Conventional tactics no longer work at the current, and projected scale of kaiju planetfalls. Deep space countermeasures are unable to track all incoming pods, and using orbital weapon systems for on-planet kaiju exterminations results in unacceptable human casualties.”

A council member rises. “And what you are saying, is that the only solution is to use three thousand year old technology to combat this?!”

G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R. nods. “You are correct Councillor, it is the only acceptable solution.”

Voices rise, objections raised as the Professor watches. He could hear it, in the far distance within the next door control center the alarm changes. From six short alarm tones to seven, the upgraded threat level suddenly expressing itself on G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R.’s usual expression.

“Professor Kemos, your work is in question. Unreliable and traitorous, this is a class eight crime.”

A counselor laughs.

Kemos stares up, sighing. “Is it not the Council’s mission to ensure the future of the human race? Why are you so insistent then on the continuation of old tactics that simply do not work?” 

They all stop at insubordination, councillors staring at the Professor in disbelief.

“Get this man out!” A counselor orders, voice almost breaking from the strain. “NOW!”

The doors open silently, a pair of helmeted guards grabbing the Professor by both arms. Kemos attempts to resist, and one of them smashes his face with an armored fist.

“Kill him.” A counselor orders.

“No!” G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R.’s stoic form turns to terror. “That is a direct violation of Protocol One.”

“Protocol Three then.” The Counselor repeats. “All in favor of removing Professor Kemos?”

Out of the six present, six votes are raised.

“G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R. is overruled.”

Watcher Joesphi laughs, the Council turning their attention to the interrupting officer now walking through the open doors. “Difficult situation you find yourself in G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R. Invite the man in, and now his death is on your conscience.”

He waves a hand as he passes the two guards, the bleeding Professor released with military precision.

The Watcher continues. “And honestly Kemos, you had the gile to speak up against the Earth Defense Council? Quite a crime.”

“I was being honest.” The Professor coughs as he clears blood from his mouth.

“Mhm.” Watcher Josephi stares directly at G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R.’s form, reaching into his uniform’s pocket for his communicator. He speaks, a tired tone as he smiles lightly. “Engineering, we’re having issues with G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R. She’s acting up for some reason in the council room.

“Yes, shut her down for a reset. We can spare a few minutes of downtime.”  

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING WATCHER?!” A council member screams.

“Oh you don’t need to worry about this category seven kaiju.” Josephi smiles brimley. “The Trinary Star Forcer Division has been deployed to the site. Your deep-space early warning system and orbital defense grid were quite effective… for last week’s attack. Sadly we’ll have to rely on the Force Troopers for this operation.”

“WHAT?!”

“Oh, you didn’t know about this? if maybe you were debating less about yourselves this could’ve turned out quite differently.”

G.A.T.E. K.E.E.P.E.R.’s form shuts down, the entire projection dissolving as the Professor stares in silence.

Watcher Josephi reaches into his utility belt, racking his handgun’s slide in a deafening sound of mechanical precision.

“How old are some of you?” Josephi asks calmy. “Two thousand years old? Three thousand? Immortality has such a distancing effect doesn’t it? Gets to your head so easily, ends up clouding your judgement.”

“Guards, remove the Watcher!” A counselor orders.

The two figures flanking Joesphi remain still, watching as their Officer slowly raises the weapon towards the first preservation box. “In three thousand years, have any of you seen a Force Trooper in action?”

“GUARDS!!!” 

“It’s visceral, messy. But it's controlled.” Josephi stares. “And that is all that matters.”

The first round is fired, the high explosive round obliterating the nearest counselor. Ancient blood and preservation fluid seeps out of the container, an isolated central nervous system spilling onto the floor.

“GUARDS!!!” The Councillors scream. “KILL HIM!!!”

 Josephi scoffs as the two guards raise their own weapons towards the boxes. “I hate being in charge of doing dirty work for others you know? You work so hard and then get no credit for it, don’t you think that’s just harsh? Though, I can't complain. The people in charge of the Forcer Program are much more competent than this.”

The Officer turns to the Professor, who now stares wide eyed at the flayed out brain on the ground. “Sorry you had to get involved in all this Kemos, I’ll treat you to dinner later. Something nice, you know, for old times sake.”

“Y-y-yeah…” The man sputters out. “S-sure.”

Joesphi chuckles. “Good. Now, time to deal with the rest of you.”

Councillors scream, their voices in unified fear.

“Ugh, I can’t do this.” Joesphi sighs to the remaining preservation pods. “How about a vote then, just like how it’s always done? Alright who votes to escalate the deployment of Force Troopers?”

Almost instantly the five votes are counted: unanimous in their betrayal.

“Well that clears the conscience a bit.” Joesphi raises his weapon. “And just so you all know, what the Forcer Corps is doing here this afternoon is for all of humankind. Which was… your job before…”

He shakes his head. “Well your job…  before you fucked it up.”