“Acid Squad, attention!” Grimes shouted, the squadron immediately leaving their relaxed poses as I entered the hangar bay, seeing the men standing firm. Inspection was always important, especially on the first mission. These men were hand selected by me to be the best, excelling in all areas physical and mental.
“At ease,” I commanded, seeing them relax. Uniformity was something I appreciated, something most people often overlooked or ignored. Milithreat was a corporation so they didn’t mind everyone having their own flair. Not me. I wouldn’t allow my men or women to have any say in uniform designs. Black and red, my favorite colors.
Armor had to be a metallic black, glossy and well polished. I had a feeling by the end of this mission, that gloss would fade, but that was the point. Starting a mission always had to be pristine, and the end needed to look like a righteous clusterfucked uniform and gear. It meant we used all the tools at our disposal as often as we could. The red glows on the side seams and lights would make a difference if on the battlefield from shooting either friend or foe.
Helmets were equipped with night vision, heat detection, and acted as oxygen relief if necessary. The scientists said there shouldn’t be any problems breathing on Colony Negative, but I had my doubts. Every single soldier and scientist accompanying us live streamed their point of view from those helmets for the security teams to monitor. Even our health vitals were constantly being monitored.
CSO Ruenova would definitely keep an eye on the main personnel, specifically myself and Jack, just to make sure we stuck to the plan.
I was about to pull out my pocket projector to lay out the gameplan I had spent all night working on, that is until Doctor Deveraux caught my eye. Her armor was less militaristic and more scientific, merely an exo-skeleton of the weight my soldiers and I carried. She managed to follow the black and red uniform, at my request despite the red clashing with her green eyes. Along the back of her suit was a pack attached to her light armor, enough just for a datapad and tools.
She didn’t wear a helmet, which almost infuriated me. The easiest way to avoid detection was to wear helmets. If someone was targeting her, she’d be spotted easily. Although, with a helmet, her petite figure would probably give it away too. More than likely she didn’t have a need for a helmet if her mask filtered enough for her.
I just didn’t like staring at her. She was the one person to unease me.
The one thing that did surprise me was that she had a knife attached firmly to her thigh. It was the only weapon clearly in her possession, although she could very well argue it was a tool. The handle design and thin blade structure made it very easy to pinpoint it was a pararescue knife, particularly one a medic would carry in the field. I already had a medic on each squad, so why did she feel the need to carry one herself?
I wasn’t the only one to notice too.
“When the laser bullets start flying, I know I’ll be so safe around the Doctor and her knife,” Owen snickered. I hated that he was in Acid Squad. I did everything I could to put him in Bomb Squad, but unfortunately the man I previously selected broke his ankle in a training exercise. He was the next best available. If only his personality leveled with his military skill.
“Our job is to protect the Doctor, in case you forgot, Agent Owen,” I scowled, almost borderline defensive. I must be stressed. I didn’t know why it bothered me. Owen already got on my nerves so that was probably it. It was also the fact that our mission was to clearly protect the Doctor, as much as I even hated her.
We hardly spoke since our interrogation. I couldn’t fault her for finding what I tried so hard to hide, what plagued my sleep with a trauma I couldn’t ignore. I was engineered for this. No. I earned this out of my determination and will. I escaped Sabbath and now did my own bidding. I wanted nothing to do with that hellhole. I murdered more alone under their eye than Milithreat.
Yet, I would murder today if the chance arose.
I had to murder if it prevented me from killing the only thing I cared about.
Jack stood at slight parade rest, arms behind her back patiently. She didn’t say anything to Owen’s tease. Instead her emerald eyes glanced at mine, eagerness to make first contact on this new colony. I nodded and proceeded to project the simulation, seeing our transports arrive at an east entry point of the city.
“Acid Squad, we are the first ones to make breakthrough in what will be our territory of Colony Negative. The second we are on the ground, we will immediately have Agent Cole conduct a perimeter sweep with his recon drones. Once clear, the other three squads will enter the square mile at different points and meet us in the center. We will clear block by block. Speed is not important, efficiency is.”
“About four miles in is the entrance to the underground region. Scans from our ship indicate layers upon layers underneath the ground. From here, we will make this a base camp when on the ground. If any issues arise or communication is cut off, this will be our meeting point. Does anyone have any questions?”
Silence.
“Good, let’s roll,” I clapped, seeing everyone grab their gear. I pulled my datapad out one last time, taking a glance at my target. Recon Specialist Crowe had electric blue hair and a distinctive neck tattoo, both of which would be covered by his own uniform. Intelligence suggested his armor would be laced with possible camouflage technology. Agent Cole’s drones wouldn’t pick it up, unless on a heat signature scan. I’d have to remind him to do that with each sector, just in case Crowe was already waiting for us.
He probably already was, which made me deliriously giddy. Nothing excited me more than a prey thinking he was a predator.
The transport was sizeable, enough to fit two squadrons but I wanted each one to have their own individual Sioc. It would make it easier if an emergency arose to get each team out safely. While it was at a cost of gasoline and not considered efficient by our supply crew, I didn’t give a fuck. They didn’t know what it could feel like, being abandoned on the front lines, waiting forever for a transport to arrive. I did.
The Sioc rumbled over the uneven terrain. The lack of windows made it less interesting, everyone only having to stare at each other. The noise was loud, which meant little room for small talk at least in person. The helmets at least provided communication control, channels that allowed the soldiers to speak to others. While a private channel could be created, my men had no idea I could have access to it as well. Already they were talking amongst themselves, encouraging each other how big a mission this was.
“Doctor Deveraux, are you alright? Your heart-rate is high,” Medic Garcia pointed out, over a personal channel. I was included in this one, however.
“I’m fine,” she spoke, the mask and radio chatter only making that voice of her more robotic and unenthusiastic. I glanced back from the front, gripping the handle bars up top to keep balance. She looked nervous. Her hands rested on her knees, but one index was rapidly tapping, as if counting the seconds until this was over.
I slowly traversed down the narrow pathway, keeping my grip steady before making my way down to her.
“When was your last deployment?” I asked, seeing her glance up in surprise that I was even saying anything, let alone on another private channel. I made sure to save that channel as a favorite. Something told me we’d have to bicker privately, less she wanted my soldiers to hear her berating me. It also wouldn’t hurt to keep checking on her status, given the differences in missions.
Deployment was probably a poor word to use. Perhaps Colony study or mere exploration was a better word to describe her exiting a lab for once.
“Colony 599,” she answered, pausing before adding, “It’s been awhile.” Her eyes averted away slightly, perhaps intimidated about me wearing the helmet. All she saw was a black nothing, which was probably what she saw in my heart anyways.
Or maybe she was lying. That was around the same time as her ‘incident’ according to the very basic timeline constructed by my intelligence team. Most of it was still unknown. All that was known was that she went to Colony 599, came back in the lab for a bit, then it happened. From there, she took a long period away from her work, before returning. Interviews suggested many in SBH were surprised she returned at all.
Grimes had also been right about her family legacy. The reason Deveraux industries was no longer in service was the fact their CEO, Jacqueline’s father, killed his wife before killing himself. Only two months after the window of Jack’s incident. Whatever happened, death had followed her and her family. Still, it left Jack with a net worth of over a billion credits, enough to step aside and live a life of luxury without breaking an ounce of sweat for work.
That wasn’t her style, though.
“I remember my first big deployment. Colony 354. The second we landed to help a small village with aid, we were surrounded by a swarm of Canine-A’s, you know-”
“Canine Animorpheous. Once thought to be their own terrifying species, but they are merely mutated wolves. Three times the size of a normal wolf, a bite strong enough to chomp off a man’s head,” she interrupted, before realizing her scientific chatter overwhelmed my attempt at small talk, “...sounds terrifying.”
“It was,” I admitted, “I always thought humans were the biggest threat. That day proved me wrong, until I was able to study my enemy. From there, I knew how to defeat them.”
“We won’t run into any of those here. They like forest colonies. There are no forests here,” she muttered. I suppose she wasn’t seeing my point in chatter. It wasn’t about the canines, it was about the fear of my own first deployment with Sabbath. I, of course, left out the fact that Sabbath had taken the remaining alive Canine-A’s to domesticate, using them to control Colony 354 with fear of the monsters.
“What will we run into out here?” I asked, genuinely curious if she had a guess. It definitely seemed uninhabitable in the long run from the top-down imagery. But people had definitely lived here, survived by the looks of it.
“Nothing more dangerous than ourselves,” she replied, and I was content with that answer.
Garcia didn’t say anything else about her vitals, so I assumed talking to her worked at putting her at ease. Slight ease, of course. I knew my presence could barely provide her any comfort. I noticed in the channel log from my helmet that she had saved our private channel too in her own system. For an odd reason, that made me smirk.
Yeah, she’d definitely abuse that private com-channel. So would I, given the chance.
The Sioc stopped, the back doors dropping and immediately my men proceeded out in formation, guns drawn parallel to the ground. Jack stepped in the middle and I operated from behind her. I suppose I didn’t really realize it until now, or maybe it was just the uniform she wore. But…she had a really nice ass.
Colony Negative was…barren. The ground was all rock, greyish in color. The only thing that stood in the beginning district was just other rocks, on top of rocks. It didn’t look like any signs of life. It was a barren, moon-like wasteland. There were structures still remaining, maybe only as high as four stories, but they looked on the verge of collapsing.
My memory flashed to the day Sabbath had obliterated Colony 106. I watched from the space above as fire hailed down like comets into the planet. The entire colony was engulfed in flames. Sabbath loved a baptism by fire, one that either drowned the colonists into submission, or damned them to eternal hell. That day, Colony 106 chose hell, and they got it. I remembered landing on the Colony, having to ensure there were no survivors. The only ones that survived the initial blasts had their skin charred off, echoing their last breaths as their burns consumed them, damaging their organs, and damning souls to eternal hell. Our souls, to be exact
“Agent Rok, no signs of movement or lifeforms,” Cole’s gentle voice echoed in everyone’s comms.
“Copy, conduct a sweep for heat signatures as well,” I demanded, seeing him monitor his drones that roamed the mile perimeter.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Jack dug the heel of her boot into the dirt, feeling a softness to the moondust beneath her. I watched her walk over to the one section a few feet away, doing the same. The ground beneath was harder, almost solid in entirety. A foundation. While the material of rock was the same, one was pure ground, the other utilized as a foundation for a building.
“Doctor, I believe the architecture design mimics that of cob structures, found in various colonies, mostly that of small village populations with lack of serious construction ability,” a feminine voice went to Jack.
“Agree. Given the amount of storms on this Colony, it looks like they utilized the rain to turn this chalk into mud. The only thing is, there’s a slight substance between the rocks, similar to mortar for bricks. Can you tell what it is?” Jack asked.
Already, she was getting to work. With no signs of life, writings, symbols, or anything indicating an intelligence, once flourishing society, she had to study what she had. I, personally, never would have thought what the structure of these buildings would tell me. I lowered the volume of the Doctor’s channel, to give her some false sense of privacy, but also because the theoretical discussion was hammering my head.
Two hours passed, two long and boring hours. By that time, my agents were a bit complacent and growing lazy. Their weapons were on safety, not pointing parallel for any threats lurking. They merely kept their heads on a swivel and kicked the dirt as we traversed further into this ‘city.’ Jack had never said anything once to me, but was constantly in communication with her various scientists, pinpointing the smallest details I was clearly overlooking.
By now, it became more city-like with the structures made of similar material but much more numerous. It was still an urban hell, a dystopian empty pit. There were no neon signs or any form of art like I was used to back home, not even graffiti. There were no things or items in these structures that could make a home feel…well, homely. No pots or pans, no beds other than the occasional white brick like material dangling from a wall. This place was more barren than a prison.
“This is fucking boring,” Owen groaned, a few others joining into the complaints. The only one who didn’t seem to find any boredom was the good Doctor, however she looked just as puzzled about the situation as I.
Cole finished another sweep and found nothing, but something told me we were being watched. A cold sweat dripped from my neck, my eyes scanning the horizon of the various structures, looking for any sign of movement. Nothing. There wasn’t even any wind making noise, only the crunch of our boots.
“Sir,” Jack called out for me but on the public comms, which made me turn around to see what she was gazing at. She stood out in the open, glancing down at an impression in the ground. I walked over to her, bending down slightly. Somewhere in the dust she had been staring at were the signs of a boot heel imprinted, the back end specifically. It was not a full footprint which explained why my team had overlooked it, thinking nothing of it.
We weren’t alone.
The softest echo like a whistle confirmed so, my instincts immediately surging. I pushed into Jack’s body, forcing her into the wall with me to cover her torso with my own. A laser beamed straight into the corner of the wall she was near, disintegrating the edge. Her mask made it easy to hear her nervous breath, and the closeness of my chest against hers made it easy to imagine her racing heart. The combination of the two was electric.
We just got fucking shot at, I shouldn’t be thinking about that.
“You can get off me,” she finally exhaled and I took a small step back. Her eyes were soft, despite the slight venom in her voice.
“What the fuck!? Do we have visuals?” my men shouted, all taking cover. The shot presumably came from the west, from elevation as I watched the laser still melt that wall from a diagonal position.
“Do you think these structures can withstand a laser shot?” I asked her, knowing her team might be able to know the answer. That answer would determine just how reliable our cover and positions might be. Otherwise, we’d have to go old school and go prone in the dirt for some real protection.
“Depends on the caliber,” she answered herself, with experienced confidence. Her comms came to life, her green eyes staring deep into mine, as if she saw right through my helmet. “We should be fine to use as cover for firearms or swords. Artillery on the other hand…”
I doubted they had any, especially if this was Crowe. He wanted to make chaos with a one man army and artillery was not his speciality. Besides, it was clear he was targeting someone. Me, most likely.
“There’s still no signs of life, heat signatures are fine,” Cole voiced over, worried that he was missing something. Surely if someone was shooting they’d show up on a scan.
Jacqueline still stared at me as I slowly leaned my head to the right to take a peek behind the breach in the wall. Immediately she grabbed me this time by the wrist bracers of my armor, pulling me back to her. A laser whizzed by, missing my helmet by an inch.
“How did you-”
“Movement from the glare of your helmet,” she answered. Okay, so she wasn't’ staring at me, but using my helmet almost as a mirror. Genius. “Tallest building it looks like. Don’t peek again, he clearly knows you’re trying to get an angle.”
“Cole, check the building three blocks west of us, the tallest in the sector. Keep that drone high up too,” I commanded, pulling out my small datapad. Jack stepped closer, almost that same closeness when I pressed her against that wall. Her eyes watched the drone footage with intrigue. Both of us saw nothing, just gray dust off a rooftop on the verge of collapsing..
“Could be camouflage. I’ll use heat signatures now,” Cole echoed and switched. The gray image turned orange, small colors varying of temperature changes. The structures were warmer, a faint bit redder.
“They used this specific material for their homes to absorb the heat, during hotter seasons,” Jack answered my internal question why the heat signature looked different. There was nothing, yet both of us felt there had to be something.
A slight movement of orange amidst the red appeared, and then disappeared as quickly as it formed.
“Is it possible he’s laying on a thermal blanket of equal temperature to the rock?” she questioned. My eyes lit up in surprise. I suppose if I was conducting reconnaissance or acting as a sniper in a place like this, I’d avoid anything to be detected from a heat signature. He had probably been watching us for the last good hour and thought he had us pinned. With so many structures, there was belief he could be atop any of them.
My hunch told me otherwise. So did Jacqueline’s surprisingly helpful theory.
An amateur like himself would want to sit on the highest point, to get the biggest advantage: lack of people looking up. And a thermal blanket set at just the right temperature, accompanied by armor meant to blend into his surroundings…he thought he was practically invisible.
“Team, he is up there. I guarantee it. Owen, I need you to get to the Sioc, turn it off autopilot and pull it up closer to us,” I ordered, knowing the Sioc had followed us the second we got off. It was nice to have reliable transportation mixed with intelligent technology so it stayed with us at all times.
“Are you shitting me? It’s out in the open,” Owen scowled.
“That’s an order, Agent. He’s not aiming at you!” I barked, seeing Jack jump slightly at the anger in my voice. My life was on the line, and so was hers seeing as I had pulled her aside. Owen had to stop thinking about himself for a split second.
I could hear Owen grunt before hearing movement behind me, his feet running rapidly towards the transport. I immediately adjusted my rifle, going into the schematic panel on the side to adjust the barrel size in a matter of seconds. Weapon technology was fucking awesome.
“What caliber will penetrate?” I asked her, seeing the surprised look in her eyes.
“Well, at least a thirty by thirty millimeter block,” she answered, not so confident.
“You sure, Doctor? That’s a pretty large barrel,” I teased, adjusting the laser size to thirty-five by thirty-five. With that size, the recoil would definitely bruise my shoulder, unaccustomed to shooting a caliber that extensive. That’s what good soldiers do, though. We adapt. We adapt to kill, to improvise and surprise our enemies. With Owen running towards that transport, I wanted Crowe to think we were leaving. Hardly.
This was our fucking territory, and he was my target.
“I think you men have a problem measuring what’s ‘large’ and what is not,” she retorted, which only widened my smile. So she could tease in a firefight? She should see action more often.
As soon as the engine revved and my firearm was calibrated and ready to fire, I immediately aimed from behind the wall the projected height I last remembered the edge of his roof being. Jack took a step to the side, her hands moving to cover her ears. She really should wear a helmet for ear protection alone. Or maybe I should have done her a favor and suppressed the barrel.
“Cole…keep an eye on that drone,” I whispered, letting my finger gently rest on the trigger.
One deep breath. Then another.
I side-stepped quickly to the right, firing as soon as the barrel left the sight of our cover. Crowe had at least a foot of covered wall to cower behind from, shooting through a narrow gap in it like any good sniper would. If this penetrated the wall like Doctor Devereaux suggested, I would hit him.
“Hit! I see blood splatter in the heat signature. He’s on the move!” Cole shouted excitedly, “Nice shot, sir.”
I couldn’t help but smirk, immediately letting my rifle return to standard setting before placing it behind my back in its shoulder holster. The chase was on, and with the Sioc ready to go, we’d have the advantage. We always had the advantage.
“He’s getting on a bike!”
“Let’s go!” I ordered, “Cole, stay here and monitor the drone behind cover.” I left the cover to run for the opening end of the Sioc, hopping in. When I turned around, counting my men, Jack stood there for a moment, almost shell shocked.
“Hey Doc, you coming!?” Garcia shouted, seeing her wake up from her trance before being the last in. I immediately pulled Owen away from the controls, hopping in the seat to drive. The engines revved and without warning, my foot slammed into the gas pedal. A bike might give him a slight advantage to this terrain, but I had studied this map like the back of my hand. I spent all night awake studying this fucking navigation. There were plenty of places he couldn’t escape to, narrow routes or roads that made it easier to predict his path of travel.
“He’s five blocks from you heading west…now north-west,” Cole shouted.
Perfect. I knew exactly where to cut him off. Full speed ahead, as soon as I reached an open path, I turned right, letting the wheels squeal in the dirt to gain traction before slamming on the gas again.
“Holy fuck, who taught you how to drive!?” Jack scowled, only furthering my delight and adrenaline, “You’re going the wrong way.”
How I relished the idea of proving her wrong. It was an anticipation almost as good and savory as sex.
Another few blocks, and I made another sharp left turn, followed by grunts of frustration as I could hear the soldiers behind me not strapped in, slamming into the side walls of the small tank-like transport.
“Owen, give me turbo engines,” I commanded.
“Sir, that’s for jumping over gaps-”
“Fucking do it!” I shouted, seeing him adjust the panel to his left, activating it.
“Holy shit, you’re on him…” Cole whispered with anticipation over the comm.
Immediately I pressed the button, activating a burst of speed. And as predicted, the bike was in front of us for a split second before the front of the Sioc slammed into the back. The bike lost control, its rider flying into the nearest wall with painful velocity. The Sioc rammed into the wall in front of us, breaking it and also the wall behind it, and most likely parts of the front bumper. No time to think about the damage.
I turned off the engines and pulled my pistol out, opening the doors. This was my target, and my soldiers were too stunned by the crash to come to their senses. The dust settled from my chaos as I eagerly moved towards his last position. Crowe was slow to get up, a part of his shoulder blade sticking up abhorrently like he had a hunched back. I shot him in the leg, hearing his high pitched scream through his own helmet. With the laser burning his thigh, I activated a stun, rendering him unable to return any attack against me as he writhed in the dirt, his screams increasing.
He was my prey. He was at the bottom of my fucking food chain, and I always liked to play with my food.
My boot kicked his helmet in, hearing the shattering of fragile, cheap District Three glass crack. Electric blue hair was the clear indicator this was my target, as I was his.
“Hello Crowe…any last words?” I let my helmet collapse, showing him who I was. He must know who I was, being his target and all.
The man groaned, anger and frustration in his eyes but there was a hint of…happiness? Perhaps with all the pain he was in, the next laser into his brain would be a relief. But there was something deeper there.
“Get out while you still have a chance. A death like this is mercy,” he spat blood at me, staining my black uniform.
“I am not mercy. You should have hit your first shot while you had the chance. You wanted to spread homicidal murder like its a cough, well, I’m the entire fucking plague,” I spat back at him. I shot one bullet right at his head, watching his brain splatter. This time I enjoyed the splattering of blood on my uniform.
I kicked his limp body over on his back, standing over him before shooting two additional lasers for good measure, another again in the head and the other through his light camouflage armor into the heart. Each kill ended with a high pitched ring, and not the type from tinnitus or other medical condition in my ears. It was just the sound of a soul forcibly leaving this universe by my hands. It was a comforting sound.
That sound faded with footsteps, my men glancing over to my victim. I turned back when I heard a soft collapse and saw Jack on her knees slightly, a faint streak of blood leaving her forehead, dripping down to her sharp jawline. She must’ve slammed it somewhere amidst the crash…another good reason to wear a fucking helmet.
“You alright!?” I shouted at her, seeing fury in her eyes, that strand of black hair dangling between them.
“You fucking son of a-”
“Okay, yeah, you sound fine,” I smiled, licking my lips before sensing the sweetness of blood. My team and I then searched Crowe’s body, looking for anything useful to scavenge. We placed his datapad and technology to the side, figuring it would be encrypted so we could extract from it later. He had a nice camp-knife, a spotting scope, and other various tools we could use.
But again, District Three were money hoarders and only used cheap equipment. These would be used once and then tossed into the dump like garbage, just like they did with their own soldiers.
A noise of surprise from a filtered mask pulled me away, glancing over to see Doctor Deveraux looking at that datapad. And from the reflection off her blood streaked jaw, she was staring at an image. I figured with nothing else to do, she’d find a way to unlock whatever knowledge Crowe found. Probably very little, at least in terms of intelligence she was looking for.
It wasn’t until she turned the datapad towards me, that weird burn of protective fury began to boil.
Crowe’s target: a perfect, beautiful image of her, mask and all.