Argon-3

Chapter 2 : The Letter Opener

            With that everyone rose from their seats bringing their drinks, to a table we could all face each other and talk at properly. I sat in the bottom middle seat, there weren't any backs. Gajin sat to my immediate left, Crusher as people called him sat to my immediate right. In front of me sat the rest of them, with Jessie directly in front of me sipping a smoothie. Amanda put down a jacket before she sat down. I guess she didn't want to dirty her dress? Lionheart's height was pretty proportionate, so he could reach the table just fine, even with his small stature. I heard the barkeep call out Gajin's name and he raised a finger letting them know where we were. Soon after a waitress brought over his Stale Mate and my, ahem, Club Soda. I wish I could portray that more sarcastically; I mean it was in fact a club soda but the reasoning behind it left me perturbed. The waitress was really nice, she seemed cheery and not really unhappy with her job. She wore a low-cut dress; it was white with a red ribbon around the nape. There were small frills around the neckline. She had a big bust size; I mean I might as well properly describe her. I'm not a pervert, I just want to be accurate alright! It wasn't necessarily the first thing I noticed; I noticed her smile first. She wore it genuinely, there was no lie or secret behind it. Her stance had a sort of attitude to it, though she didn't seem like one of those snobby people. Her hair was brown and wavy, going down the sides of her arms, in front of her shoulders. She wore makeup on her lips, that looked a little run-down from her working all day. It wasn't very noticeable unless you were paying very close attention. "My name is Mel, if you guy's need me just holler," and with saying that she was off, back to the bar.

"So, what's the deal?" Jessie jumped in. She seemed very curious, unbecoming of our previous interaction, hmm I guess everyone there was like that, to an extent. The other's seemed to listen in, and I think people from nearby tables lent an ear to what we were saying. "I mean, there isn't much to tell," I tried to explain, "I was the top of the top, at my previous station. I received word from my superior, that some researchers here were developing some new weapons, and they wanted me to test them. I was promoted, for more access to field work, and transferred here." I explained, I mean it wasn't very interesting, at least in my personal opinion. I guess thinking back on it, someone shows up and just assumes a position of higher power then people who have been stationed here for years; in fact, in that kind of situation I'd be curious as to why too. "Well, I guess that makes sense, but I wonder what this new weapon could be?" Gajin responded scratching his head, and pouting. Gajin really showed his emotions, I don't know if it was some ploy, but he was so expressive with everything he was feeling. If you'd know him at the time, you would've been worried had he not been yelling, dancing, slouching expressively, or something dramatic. "Is that really all there is to it?" Jessie asked, which makes sense. I mean I didn't go into very much detail, as I wasn't supposed to. You know, classified and all that jazz. "That's al—" I began saying before being interrupted. "Pardon my interruption, but more than likely he can't divulge too much information" Lionheart interrupted. That saved me from having to show rank or something to get them to stop asking question, but it's still rude to interrupt someone.

As we all enjoyed our drinks sitting around the table and the evening began to quite down a buzzer was heard from a speaker by the tented area followed by a voice, "Benny Goodmen, report to Major General Zaroff's office in Sector 7" The troupe looked at me expectantly wanting some explanation while Gajin instead used a mocking voice to make a snarky remark, "Oh, Benny is in trouble," his words slurred and exasperating to the ear. I stood up from my seat recollecting the day's events in my mind as I headed towards the office. Leaving the tented area, I got lost a few times but with the help of the occasional map I was able to find my way to the main office area. As I approached, I saw a few people stationed outside the tent, one of the curtain flaps hung to the side and blew in the breeze showing me the occasional glimpse of what the rest of the tent hid from view. At the front of the tent I was stopped by a rather tall man whose outfit left everything to the imagination, his visor hid his eyes and the only part of his face visible was indistinguishable from any other man; in fact, the only defining trait would be his height and even then that could easily be confused with someone else. "Halt, only Ben Goodmen is to see Major General Zaroff at this time," he announced with a thunderous boom, alerting everyone in a five-mile radius to exactly what was going on. Disparaged from his regards towards me I showed him my arm to reveal the series of stars tattooed on my arm to represent my ranking, and followed with, "My name is Ben Goodmen, I was requested and am here to fulfill that very request." The man showing apathy to my sass filled remark stood to the side and allowed me entrance into the tent.

I entered the tent to find one man standing his shadow looming over his desk as his arms were planted on the edges. "You asked to see me, sir?" I said taking proper form in my stance and saluting. The Major lifted his head puffing out smoke from his cigar and filling the room with its stench: The stench seemed to be beginning to stick to me as the Major coughed proceeding to answer my question, "Yes. Yes in fact I did call for you General." He waved one arm at me and used the other hand to take out his cigar, "And enough with the formalities." I allowed the Major to take his seat first as I pulled a chair up to his desk. The Major coughed again as I sat down saying mostly to himself, "Eh, my wife must be right, these things really do kill ya." He chuckled at the thought of his wife and took another puff of his cigar. "You know why you were stationed here, right?" He asked expectantly, "Weapons testing." I responded. "You'd be right," he remarked blowing smoke around the room, "We are working on finishing the first batch of a new kind of weapon something to combat the more powerful SoulKin." He paused to take another puff, though I believe he wanted to build dramatic tension, "We call them—Well I'll be totally honest we don't have a name for them yet. Though there is something I can give you, the first prototype." Saying those final words, he stood up from his chair moved over to a table adjacent to us; as he loomed over the table, I noticed a small case lying flat on top. His hand gently ran across the sides of the case searching for the clasps dotted around the edges, he flipped one up and then another; he continued this continuous cycle until all the clasps were undone. He took the cigar out of his mouth dropping it to the ground and rubbing it into the dirt leaving only tiny particles left. With his left hand he carefully lifted the case's top revealing a velvet lined inside which appeared to be empty at first, but as he shifted the case around digging his hand inside I noticed a small silver-bronze letter opener: His course hands fumbled while trying to grab the letter opener, but he eventually achieved his goal triumphantly. The confusion on my face must've been noticeable as the Major took heed and returned with his prize. He placed the letter opener down on the table and jammed his hands into his pockets rustling around in there only to retrieve a silver ring, suitable for the ring finger and only as a tight fit, he then placed the ring next to the letter opener. He opened a drawer on his desk, and just as I thought this was turning into an Ikea assembly, he pulled another cigar from the drawer and put it in his mouth lighting it before continuing on with his presentation. Gesturing to the items placed on his desk he added, "This is the most powerful weapon currently in our arsenal, and we have chosen to entrust it to you."

I gawked at his statement thinking to myself, "How can this possibly be their most powerful weapon: This must be some sort of joke, right?" In front of me was a letter opener with a silver-bronze finish and next to it lay a silver ring, and in that moment the only idea that crossed my mind was that I agreed with the Major's wife, cigars were killing him; most importantly, they were killing his brain cells. "What do you think?" he said, slowly coming to the realization that I hadn't been informed about what they were doing here at my previous post, "Yeah, not much to look at I know," he added puffing another smoke ball from his mouth and scratching the five o' clock shadow on his face. "No disrespect sir, but is this some sort of joke?" I asked as politely as I could muster only to hear in response, "Do I look like I'm joking, boy?" his face stern as the cigar hung low on his lip. "No, sir." I responded he only nodded saying, "There is your answer then." I looked over the letter opener and the ring deciding to ask a very reasonable question in my mind, "Since this isn't a joke sir, could you please explain or elaborate in some way?" The Major looked me over, stood up, put on the ring, and grabbed the letter opener. He headed towards the center of the room and I stood up and turned around keeping him in my line of sight. He stood tall his back straight and his legs together, he moved one leg forward leaning towards the leg, he then moved his left hand, which was holding the letter opener and had the ring on, backwards as if carrying a large sword, and finally tapped the ring against the hilt of the letter opener. I watched as the letter opener began to grow in his hands and little details, earlier invisible, became prominent. The letter opener had become the size of a sword, the hilt seemed large enough for a broad sword and the blade had plating on each edge. I then watched as the plating shifted in their respective directions rolling across gears, clinking into place. Slits in the hilt were revealed as two parts of a cross-guard rotated into place. As I watched the final product form and finally took in the completed weapon it looked almost like a steampunk claymore with a rather broad blade. He pulled his left arm up and shifted the sword moving it in front of him jamming it into the ground and then resting both hands on the pommel. "The shrunken form is for transportation, this sword can become as large or as small as the user sees fit, within reason, as long as the weapon is in the possession of the owner. Once it loses contact with the user it will revert to its normal size," he explained smugly, puffing another smoke cloud which blew directly into my face. "How did you eve—" I gawked before being interrupted, "That is top-secret, only the scientists and a few elite members are allowed to know how these are made." After I had become accustomed to this invention and my first impression began to fade, "But these are just swords, the SoulKin have all sorts of radically different powers, how is a sword going to help?" I asked to which he responded, "You're right but statistics show that most of the SoulKin's powers are better at dealing with ranged weapons. This sword in the wrong hands is useless, but you..." I finished his retort, "I scored the highest in agility and dexterity in the training courses." He nodded, "Exactly, this weapon is perfect for you and you alone." Rather than his response answering questions I think it just raised more, "You said you had a whole batch of these, if I am the only one who can use this weapon, what is the point in making more?" His smug smile returned, "These weapons, every single one is unique. Although you are the only one with a weapon that is specifically tailored towards them." As the meeting came to a close, I received the weapon, the whole set included, with a strict warning, "No one is to know about this until further notice." With that he handed me a special badge, "This will allow you to go on any level mission without being forced to use a squad force," and then I was on my way back to the group.