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A Terran Space Story: The Commander Saga
Chapter 33: The Grim Reaper

Chapter 33: The Grim Reaper

Minutes Later. September 17th, 2267. 07:50 Murphy Caves

John had directed the small drones to fly into the final chamber. He wanted to know how many were left and where they were. Lowering the risk was important as he was so close to achieving his desired result. Walking away from this mission healthy was incredibly important to him.

His helmet audio sensors were detecting the faint but panicked chatter. Was the Grim Reaper really here? Did he really exist? Was it the military? The palpable fear could be felt by John. His statement, ironically true, had driven fear into the very cores of the surviving anarchists. Whether they believed him or not mattered little to him.

The drones were now in place and showing an infrared image of the darkened chamber. Eight individuals were left, all having taken up defensive positions behind boxes of gear. John made note of his remaining munitions and readied himself.

His hand reached down and pulled the final flashbang from his bandolier. The grenade was thrown effortlessly down the cave. It landed in the chamber and banged around the floor before exploding. Just a moment before it exploded John pulled a fragmentation grenade and threw that into the chamber.

That grenade landed farther into the chamber than the flashbang did. Four seconds after the first explosion the frag grenade exploded next to a pair of anarchists. The red-hot slag of metal ripped through what paltry armor they were wearing. Death however was not instantaneous, it was guaranteed, but a slow death was all that awaited those two anarchists.

All the while this was happening John was in motion. He burst into the room, all hostiles save one, was disoriented and had made themselves an easy target. The butt of his battle rifle pounded into his shoulder with each round fired. The trigger was depressed long enough for four to six rounds of death to be fired at each of his enemies.

His shields flared to life and deflected both fragments of the grenade and rounds fired from the lone anarchist who wasn’t stunned. John turned his body and leveled the gun at his foe. A long burst of some twenty-plus rounds were fired in that man’s direction. When the final round was fired the bolt locked suddenly, John wasn’t paying attention to his ammunition counter in his HUD.

In less than thirty seconds the final battle was over. Eight dead, wounded, or dying individuals lay on the ground. John pressed the magazine release button and flicked the rifle magazine out before loading another one and chambering a round. He dropped the rifle and let his sling hold it after making it safe. He walked towards the individual who appeared to have the most life left within him.

John pulled his pistol leaned down next to the man and examined him, “A couple of flesh wounds, you’ll survive those wounds.”

“Owwwww,” the man moaned on the ground.

“Whatever do I do with you?” John said playfully as he pressed the suppressor into the man’s cheek.

“Do it and get it over with!” the young man roared in impotent rage.

John smiled inside his helmet but rose to his full height, “I wonder how long you’ll last inside this cave by yourself?”

John then stepped over the man and headed towards the cave system’s exit. The largest cavern opening to this chamber was the lone one he hadn’t yet taken. As he approached, he was about to leave the chamber he heard the young man call out.

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!”

John chuckled as he shook his head. No response was given besides his leaving the chamber. Barely a minute later he was at the cave system's exit to the outside world. He pulled out four explosive devices and placed them equidistance from one another. Then he jogged out of the exit and got to a safe distance to trigger them.

A loud explosion erupted caving in the exit. The lone survivor in the cave would likely have had his hearing damaged further, but there was no way he was going to dig himself out. It was unlikely that the man would be able to survive in the cave for more than a week. A suicidal urge to end his suffering likely would take root and be enacted upon within thirty-six hours, or so John presumed.

Then out of nowhere multiple gunshots rang out in the woods. Bullets zoomed past him harmlessly. Except for the one that grazed off his shoulder pauldron and pierced his combat suit. His left bicep took a rifle round of some sort. John swore out in pain and ducked into cover behind a rocky outcropping.

“There are four more hostiles that just arrived,” Eve said plainly.

“Fucking hell, warn me sooner,” John cursed at his left arm losing a good chunk of its mobility and usage.

John quickly reached into another pouch and looked for a first aid kit. All the while rounds were whizzing over his head. Once he found the device, he was searching for he hurriedly, and rather painfully jabbed the applicator into the bullet wound.

The applicator spewed out multiple concoctions into the fresh wound. The first was an anti-bacterial spray meant to clean the wound. Then a coagulant was applied to the wound followed by the final compound which sealed up the wound and was meant to trigger the body to regrow muscle tissue.

“Come out asshole, we’re gonna get you!” hollered one man over the gunfire.

John pulled the rifle tightly into his shoulder and held the foreground with his left hand. A burning pain was running up and down his left arm. He fought through the pain as he flicked off the safety in burst fire mode and then peeked over the rocks.

He depressed the trigger twice. The first three-round burst sailed clear of his target. The second one caught the man in the shoulder. Not a kill shot, but potentially took one person out of this gunplay. John ducked back behind his cover as new gunfire came at him. Rounds impacted the rock shortly afterward.

“You ok buddy?” asked a man.

John leaned over to the left side of the rocks and took dead aim at one of his attackers. Three rounds burst forth from the gun, with two rounds striking the target, but the muzzle rise caused the third round to sail harmlessly away. Unfortunately for the man, the first round was a grazing strike across the back of his neck. The second round struck the man in his chin, unlike the first it was a kill shot.

The third attacker started to panic loudly. One man was dead, another was severely wounded. That was John’s chance. He decided to keep the rifle in burst fire darted from his cover and headed toward his attackers. He jumped into a slide and slid behind the rocks. With his gun at the ready, he didn’t hesitate to fire at whoever he saw.

He put two bursts into the dead man. The third burst of rounds that he fired struck, and killed, the cowering man. The wounded survivor was writhing on the ground in pain. His clothes were a bloody mess near the sleeves. The wounded shoulder rendered the man’s arm nearly useless.

John clicked the safety back on his rifle and stood up. As he did so he dropped the rifle and let the sling carry it. He reached for his pistol and drew it. Three steps later he loomed over the man. The attacker stopped rolling around as he had done but was still moaning in pain.

“Why… why are you…”

“I got shot and I’m not acting like a pussy, man the fuck up and stop bitching,” John said sarcastically, “To answer your question your group killed individuals I am monitoring and targeting. I can’t have you guys continue to run around doing your own thing here. Besides, the people of this colony will quietly thank me that I’ve ended your nonsensical group. Doubly so after you murdered so many innocent people.”

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“That wasn’t…” the man couldn’t finish his sentence.

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions and delusions of grandeur. It doesn’t matter what you intended. Your group’s actions caused it. And you must die. I trapped one of your friends in the cave, unfortunately for you, I won’t show such mercy to you.”

“They’ll die in there…”

John smiled as he pulled the trigger. A lone round was fired. The ten-millimeter brass casing was flung out of the pistol and banged against the rocks. The suppressor muffled some, but not all, of the sound, not that secrecy was needed in these parts. The round struck the man’s head and he fell limp. Until his extremities started to twitch a bit. John shrugged as he turned away and headed to his truck, he never cared for that twitching, it always looked somewhat unnatural.

He managed ten steps until he stopped and leaned on a tree. The pain in his left arm was excruciating yet vaguely familiar. With the adrenaline in his system dying down he no longer was able to ignore or fight through the pain. Sweat began to form on his brow.

“You are in shock,” Eve said, “Suggest you take the dopamine and antibacterial cocktail at your earliest convenience.”

John winced as he instinctively used his left arm to reach into the pouch on that side. The pain grew substantially as he rifled around the small pouch trying to find the correct medicinal injection. He quickly transferred the cocktail into his right hand so he could insert it into his breastplate with his good arm. Moments later three needles pierced into his chest and distributed the new drug cocktail.

Then John trudged back to his truck. Unlike how he arrived, the armor plates, magazines, and guns were thrown haphazardly into the bed of the truck. There was an urgency in arriving home. He needed treatment, the sooner the better. The likelihood of running into any law enforcement out here was minimal to non-existent, which was good because there weren’t any good answers for how the bed of his truck looked.

As he stepped into the truck, he took control long enough to get it onto the main road. Then it was given simple instructions to return home. With the auto-drive systems engaged John leaned back into the seat and fell into a deep sleep.

December 17th, 2267. 12:17 Vosture Prime – John’s Homestead

Elias’ mouth was agape. He was shocked at the matter-of-fact nature John had retold his attack on the group. That he snuffed out so many lives at once without a care in the world. And where he trapped an injured man in a cave.

“What about the leader? Didn’t you say you were going to kill him?”

John nodded, “Well the plan was to kill him that day too, getting shot obviously changed that.”

“How did you treat the wound?”

John grinned, “Half-assed. If I survive, I’m definitely bound for a corrective surgery. The tools we had were good, but the operator was not as knowledgeable about the process as a doctor would be. I’ll save you from the boring details, but we have tools that can accelerate the body's healing process.”

Elias nodded, “We have similar medical tools that spur the body on to grow new tissue. We don’t allow non-trained individuals to run them though. That can actually result in more damage to the body.”

“Yeah, we generally do the same, but when you’re on a solo op and the option is for a slow recovery or a faster one, you opt for the quicker one to get back into the game.”

Elias shook his head. This Confederate superspy in front of him was an impatient prick. An impatient spy was prone to make mistakes, yet for some reason, this one seemed to avoid all responsibility for his mistakes. Well, Elias then wore a wicked grin on his face, until today that is.

“Plus,” John added, “I’m still in my prime so most treatments still bring back roughly one hundred percent of my capabilities.”

“What is that arm at now?”

“Not good, considering the trio I killed earlier this morning shot me,” John sighed, “To be blunt it’s sore as fuck.”

“What did you do next?” Elias leaned in and looked at John intently.

“About three hours later I was back here. I got the medical equipment pulled out and situated, transferred my VI to it, and then had her perform the surgery. After that was done, I took a couple of pain pills and slept for about eighteen hours,” John laughed, “I took a heavier dose of those pills than I should have. That was a big mistake because I felt like busted up shit the next morning.”

“How long did you recuperate for?”

John took a drink and then looked blankly at the wall. He looked deep in thought for the few moments he was doing that. Then he turned and looked at Elias out of the corner of his eye.

“Four days. Light work effectively did a bunch of paperwork. You see when an agent kills a civilian or frames them, we are required to fill out certain paperwork,” John then leaned over in his chair and looked squarely at Elias with a grin, “The paperwork gets done, then we redact what we feel is necessary.”

John input a couple of commands into his armrest and one of the reports was displayed on the screen. Elias was appalled at the so-called report. The top portion of the report included his name, date, and location. The rest of the report was redacted. Not just some, but literally all that remained of the report was blacked out. Elias shook his head in disbelief that he spent the time to write a report and then make it unusable.

Then it dawned on him that no one besides John would know with any specificity what unlawful actions he took against the citizens of this world. From the nightclub alone that could result in dozens of murders or other violent felonies. And that’s not counting the numerous other things he had done.

“I did file a report to give financial support to numerous families. Obviously, the analysts back home can put two and two together and know something happened, but not necessarily what. I can safely presume they’ve received that notification when I ended your com-blackout this morning.”

Elias jerked back in his seat in shock, “You sent information to your superiors?”

“I did yes. To answer your next question the nearest reinforcements are at least two weeks away. And that’s ignoring any mustering time,” John shrugged as he looked defeated, “You played us well, I had thought I would’ve just beaten but alas, things didn’t go as well as I had wanted.”

Elias began thinking. This news was greatly concerning. They could have Confederate Warships at their door in just fourteen days’ time. Was that enough?

“Did you know of the slipgate’s purpose?”

“Not until this conversation, at least not its true purpose,” John shook his head once more, “This conversation has been most enlightening to its intended purpose. While its construction was noted, its purpose was not included in the message. Of course, the major issue is sizing the threat to our land.”

“How so?”

“Well, the slipgate is rather critical to your invasion of not only this system but our holdings in the galaxy. But my leaders don’t know any of this. The biggest issue is they knew we were invaded by a group of twenty or so soldiers and spies. Seventeen of which have been eliminated.”

Elias then grinned. The threat was eliminated. Reinforcements could be sent to the system, but the military would not divert much to a world over three hostiles. If Elias was in command of the Xenuian spy services, he’d send two to three teams at most to quell this issue. A smile began to form on his face.

“How does it feel to have lost?”

John laughed, “Less bad than being shot. In either case, the feeling isn’t good. I’m surprised, I didn’t figure you for being a gloater.”

“I’ll have to take what is given to me. After all, you’ve taken so much from me.”

“All is fair in love and war my friend,” John said as he took a drink, “Do you really think you're going to be able to beat us? You’re dealing with a Navy with thousands of ships at its disposal.”

“Spread over hundreds of worlds two to three hundred light years apart. By the time you unite your forces, we will have dug into several important systems. And that is presuming we don’t engage in any guerilla-style tactics to harass and harry your ships.”

“What I wouldn’t give to be a part of that. I’d love to see what my brick shithouse of a cruiser could do in an engagement like that,” John smiled, “Well, that chapter seems to have been closed to me. Let’s get back to our history lesson and uncover the truth of what was really going on. I think at this point we were what, two weeks away from the election?”

“A day or two inside that I believe,” Elias said, “What would you like to know?”

“If I recall one of those trashy tabloids ran some rather unflattering articles about William,” John was grinning when he spoke.

Elias leaned forward in his seat, “Yes I recall that, but you seemed to be more knowledgeable about it than you should.”

“Tell me, where did you get that information?”

“The encrypted…” Elias stopped speaking as the realization of what happened washed over him.

His eyes bulged in their sockets. They worked so hard to decrypt that drive. Dozens of hours were spent cracking the maddening code. Then they poured through the data like ravenous animals. It was a treasure trove of dirt. The thought that it was too good to be true never crossed his mind. Well, not until after the first pushback from the articles began appearing that is.

“You motherfucker!” Elias shouted.

“Ah yes, that data drive. The real one he had is on the counter over there. Feel free to go through it but I can paraphrase it for you rather succinctly. The mole found fuck and all dirt on William.”

“THAT WHOLE THING WAS FALSE?”

“Of course, it was, you think I’d leave you with legitimate data? Fucking hell man, I made it difficult to crack so that you’d be blinded to the obvious when so much work and time went into cracking the encryption. You and your team never stopped to think about what you were seeing or confirmed anything, did you? How did you handle that?”

Elias was grinding his teeth in anger. His right hand had a death grip on the pistol. The veins in his forehead bulged in righteous anger. Once again, he was played for a fool. Once again, this enemy played him like a fiddle. How could this dark and depraved man be so far ahead of not only him but his team as well?

“So, you going to tell me what y’all did behind the scenes?” John asked casually, “I obviously know the fallout from it, but I don’t know how you and your team handled things.”

Elias shook his head, “I suppose I’ll suck down this bitter pill and let you know what we did.”