Iron Empire

Seventeen: Call Me Sir

The alarm began twenty minutes after our toast, ringing out through the Firmament's cavernous interior.

The alarm was met without panic, but with a great deal of annoyance—it was no emergency, merely a call to a mandatory meeting for all pilots. It was high time for a debrief, I supposed.

Twenty-five minutes after our toast was when the real panic started.

"Attention all citizens," the announcement began. "My name is Director Draco Fisk, and this is a public broadcast from Axion Industries with the approval of the United States Government."

A projector had been set up in the main hangar level, casting a screen onto the smooth surface of a nearby wall. We were all seated in the briefing area in a nervous manner, chattering amongst ourselves. The room quieted as the video continued.

The man before us on screen was clean-shaven and grim, his black and white suit a stark contrast against the grey backdrop of an office. Blue eyes, blond hair with only a wisp of grey. He looked like a superhero ripped straight from the comics.

I knew his face, of course. We all did. Draco Fisk was the director of Axion Industries. I had seen him on countless gaudy propaganda posters that proudly declared Axion's partnership with the U.S Government as if it were a good thing.

This man was no superhero, and his eyes showed that much. They were bright and sharp, like a hawk's, and lacked mirth.

The crimson sky behind the Draco filled the room with a blood-red glow, glinting off the barrel of the pistol that dangled between his fingers.

Fisk was seated on his chair in a lopsided manner, sitting in front of an immaculate office.

"I am using this broadcast time to address the unknown militia who have been terrorizing American soldiers," Fisk stated. He leaned towards the camera. "You have been found guilty of war crimes. We at Axion Industries are strictly adherent to fairness in all things."

Someone in the audience snorted. The businessman on-screen was undeterred, but that was likely due to the fact that this was a recording and not live. The rest of us remained glued to the screen. The entire crew of the Firmament was gathered on the landing platform. Watching. Waiting.

"That is why the murder of American pilots and interference in the capture of open territory is unacceptable," Fisk concluded.

From his seat on my right side, Taewi let out a frustrated sigh. He hadn't spoken since returning from his meeting with Martin and Mallet, so this came as a surprise.

"They were invading a radioactive exclusion zone! The place where nobody is supposed to go! Give me a break!"

"You know Axion bureaucrats," Lucas sighed. The dropship pilot leaned across my left side to talk to Taewi, narrowly avoiding landing on my freshly bandaged hands. "They're all substance and no truth," Lucas continued, "like lawyers. Or cashiers."

I raised an eyebrow. "Cashiers?"

Lucas shrugged at me.

"They tell you to have a nice day. Most of them don't care about your day, they just want a tip."

Suddenly Mallet loomed over us, standing tall above our briefing room seats.

"I'll give you a tip," she hissed, "shut your mouths!"

"Sorry ma'am," we chimed.

Director Draco Fisk continued speaking all this time.

"You have two options," he smiled. "Turn yourselves in and you will be welcomed. We have plenty of jobs here. You are undoubtedly skilled pilots. Despite your actions, Axion can easily afford you that chivalry."