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Installment #2: Death Reception

     I you haven't read the first installment please do so!

      In the years of the Xeno Cold War, tolerance of crime was short. Treason was often a crime charged against criminals  despite probably having no association with the Howlers in the first place. As a result mortality of criminals increased with executions, and prisons shrunk in population as more and more convicted were also charged under suspicion of being Sqaukers (Slang for a human who spies on behalf of aliens). 

     The frequency of executions such as these made them a kind of norm, people took little notice but were still very aware of the dangers of crime. In this case though the criminal was a member of the Border Patrol. A division of brave men who's duty was to defend the Earth (Slang for human controlled land) from, primarily Howlers though most of their efforts are spent fighting off the dragons. Since this man was a former soldier his execution required the presence of ranked officials. Among the summoned officials was Vlandis Haltham a five star general strategic philosopher, and politician. 

     Vlandis was a tall man with a lean build for his age, his deep set eyes were old but still sparked with passion. His hair was a wolfish gray and was receding to show his well polished scalp. He wore a luxurious brown leather jacket with a quilted red lining, silver fur collar, and silver button brackets. A casual event in, relative respects, was catered with appetizers and beverages for the high men and women in attendance. While waiting for the proceedings of the capital punishment most of the attendees struck up conversation. 

     Vlandis approached the Border Patrol squad leader with which the criminal served. "Stoverin Padolski. Headman of the 279th border squad."

     The now perplexed looking Headman turned "General. Have we met sir?" His rough disposition curving off in the presence of his superior.

     "No. You may call me Vlandis. It's a shame that one of your men has been found a Sqauker, it's a tarnish to our forces."

     "Indeed it is a shame." He obliged.

     "I should hope..." Vlandis stiffened "... that none of your other men are of the same business, and that you find the source of this rebellious nature."

     "Sir, I should hope that you don't suspect me of condoning such behavior." said Stoverin losing his tact.

     "Are said suspicions wrong." Vlandis said in a concluding sense before dismissing the conversation. He made way to one of the politicians present in the small audience. "Allliezar."

     The man turned, his body brandished a protruding gut and overall he reflected an indulgent life. With an opulent robe of fine furs and silken pants he was no stranger to making his wealth apparent. "Haltham!"

     "It has been a long time hasn't it." Vlandis grinned.

     "Years in fact. How times have changed." Alliezar said looking up and down Vlandis.

     "And how they haven't it seems." Vlandis mused. The chubby man nodded. "The cold war has made sure that hasn't it!"

     "Of course. Neither Aliens nor humans want to end the world." he cocked his head "It makes you wonder why they haven't left yet... their are plenty of other systems to colonize aren't their?" 

     "Well as long as they're too stubborn to leave I'll be making sure we're ready to blow back to their star system."

     The man laughed shaking his goiter most obscenely "I wouldn't trust anyone else to it."

     "I hope to see the end of this standoff, whether or not we win, I just want it to end so we can proceed with a real war! And so I can feel the heat of battle once more before I'm too old." 

     The room in which they were in had a glass wall looking in to the killing chamber. The room was sterile of any life forms and had only a door and a large chair with straps and glowing probes. The door into the inside opened and entered two suited guards and the prisoner. 

     One of the governors nearby shivered "What a grisly way to die."

     Vladmir snorted "I haven't a shred of empathy for the man..."

     As the man was strapped into the chair more of the probes placed themselves on the key points on the man's body. The device once activated would send resonating frequencies through the body tuned at a point at which it would literally disintegrate the man at the atomic level. It was quick though not painless according to theory, and all that was left was dust.

     The two guards left the man in the chair and sealed the door behind them. The crimes of which he was convicted were announced over the intercoms built into the room. As the proceedings were carried out the men and women present gathered to respect the ceremonies. Vladmir was naturally farther back in the crowd being as tall as he was.

     "Empathy is for times of peace." Vladmir said stoically. The prisoner began to shake and froth at the mouth as the waves began to agitate the molecules of his body. The Criminal let out an agonized scream and vaporized, his remains swirling through the chamber.

     "These are times of war." said Vladmir eyeballing the back of Stoverin's head, but in a scrutinizing way.  

Installment #1: Griffin's Enrollment

     This is the first installment in what's for now dubbed the Spitfire Chronicles. I think I'll next write a political short next to establish the major conflict of humanity!  

     The neighborhood children enjoyed playing runeball in the sunny afternoons. forgetting the world, the Xeno War, and the dragons that patrolled and harassed the human borders. The children squealed and hooted delightedly as they attempted making hoops with only their feet. Being lower income citizens they didn't have particularly nice cloths, patched jackets with cheap respirators from the Moabel Commission which made it mandatory for minors to have breathing protection after the Neurotoxin Raids of 453. Grimy and smugged, life expectancy for children like these was low, and few high class humans were adopting. 

     One of the children, named Griffen, noticed Rhoj III purging over the horizon and new that that was his curfew. He began to head home at a brisk pace, a healthy specimen for the degraded state of his district, with a spry build, Scusian complexion, and hair short he always had his hood up to cover his face. Taking his favorite route to the roofs of the run down suburban, he turned down the alley next to the Dragon's Growler Pub. 

     Being street smart he avoided eye contact by keeping his head down. He had often heard about the men who attended such places, scumbag robbers, raiders, and scavengers. When he was far enough down the alley he looked up just in time to see a man running at him from behind a waste atomizer. Griffin quickly avoided the man's lunge and took flight to a ladder. After recovering the attacker reached the ladder by the time the boy was several rungs above his head. When the man tried to grab Griffin's leg he planted a glancing kick to the man's masked face. 

     Griffin ran from roof top to roof top, ducking and weaving through makeshift squater camps and air vents at a break-neck pace. He rounded the corner of an air disperser to find the same man leaning relaxedly against the rusted side panel. The man wore a black mask with a built in respirator and visual augments that made the eye lenses glow an alien shade of blue. His jacket was weathered but well fitting with a military design. 

     "So surprised?" he said as he stepped forward with his hands up inquisitively "You didn't think I could outrun a little cheeper like you did ya!" in an instant he was inches away from Griffin's face with sharp tendrils protruding from one of his gauntlets. 

     Griffin was pinned to the side of the air pump and squirmed mightily. "What do you want freak!"

     "No! What do you want!" the man corrected. After pausing he said "You want to live of course, you want... a normal life, friends, family and a place to call home. Thats what any normal kid wants of course, but those are luxuries that I am denying you."

     Griffin stopped and realized the weight of the man's words "To dragon dump you are! You isn't my boss!" he cried defiantly.

     Ignoring the phrase the man got closer "By the time I'm done with you... you will be no normal person... you will be special."

     Griffin could almost see the man's ambition through the concealing mask, the excitement of a madman. "What do you want."

     "You can get around pretty smartly can't ya? Take this," the man handed him a small metal case the size of a pocket notebook. "There's two men in the Dragon's Growler who need this... get the picture?"

     "What of my mom? I'll be late cuz of you!" Griffin asked.

     "Don't worry." he said with a silly tone "That won't matter."

     Griffin nodded and made to go were he had came from. Back over, and under piping and valves, through the squater village, and down the fire escape. He slowed to a walking pace as he neared the pub and opted not to put his head down for fear he might look like a pick pocket. He entered with wary slowness. The bar's activity slowed down with his arrival. He slowly made way to the bar since it was the only action that came to his mind. He began looking from man to man, some were higher class pressed suits and ties, others were industrial workers and then others who fell in between. Then two men made way to him tugging their jacket seams as they got up.

     One had a jacket with styling similar to the masked man's but it hung lower. His face held three scars like a claw had slashed across it, and stubble. The other man did not wear the same style jacket but rather wore a flamboyant vest that was bursting at the seems with exotic furs. Both had firearms strapped to their legs. 

     The flamboyant one took the lead "Come outside kid..." Griffin obliged.