Chapter 5

"Kane"

Part 1

image [https://i.imgur.com/gcxKC1K.png]

04/25/2368

0740 hrs

Republic of Hommss

Amidst the icy white desert belonging to the territories of the Republic, the roar of a military transport vehicle made its way through the snow and rock-covered dunes, amidst intense and almost constant snowfall. With a robust, gray, and aggressive design, its metallic structure and angular lines showed significant wear and tear from its use, with dents and bullet impacts evident. It was a vehicle designed to transport twenty heavily armed men, ready to face the most extreme conditions of the harsh icy climate and the unwanted inhabitants outside the Republic.

Inside, the motor noise was piercingly loud and constant. The air was laden with the scent of sweat and leather, mixed with a metallic aroma from the structure itself, the weapons, and the equipment carried by the soldiers of the Republic of Hommss. They wore their dark gray uniforms, made of durable fabrics and designed to provide protection against the extreme cold. Their faces were hidden behind gas masks with red polarized visors, and their respective identification plates at neck level.

Among them was Fihn Qoassy, plate number 888. A young rookie soldier of twenty-five years. Born in one of the underground villages on the outskirts of Hommss's capital, Fihn had been recently recruited, and this was his first mission outside the barracks. His voice, distorted by the mask's modulator, sounded grave and artificial as he complained:

—How much longer until we reach the damn place? We've been in this rusty tin can for almost two hours — he banged on the vehicle's roof.

Some of his comrades chuckled under their breath.

—Be patient, soldier! — responded Xiahom, one of the veteran soldiers assigned to the small platoon. His voice was also distorted by the mask, but with an even graver tone than the rest. —The fucking Principality of that stupid Kane is far from any other settlement. It's normal for the damn trip to be endless —

Fihn snorted but said nothing more. Instead, he focused on adjusting his rifle grip, trying to channel his impatience and nervousness into something productive. The vehicle continued to move forward, leaving a trail of deep tracks in the snow in its wake.

The MT-60 transport vehicle jerked violently as the treads came to an abrupt halt. The soldiers looked at each other, confused by the sudden stop. Suddenly, a flashing green light lit up inside, illuminating the faces hidden behind the masks. Xiahom stood up with difficulty due to the low ceiling. Gripping his rifle firmly, he announced:

—Let's go, ladies. It's time — and he made his way to the gates between the legs and weapons of his comrades.

A metallic buzz resonated as the rear gates began to open slowly. A blast of icy air and snowflakes entered the interior, sticking to the masks and clothing. Xiahom was the first to descend, followed by the rest of the troops. As they set foot in the snow, the men found themselves in the midst of a vast white desert. The landscape was desolate, with distant rugged mountains silhouetted against the gray sky. Around them, three more MT-60s came to a stop, and more soldiers began to disembark.

From the last transport descended Lieutenant Khalheim, his dark gray uniform standing out against the pristine white snow that was slowly starting to turn white. His face was hidden behind a gas mask similar to the rest of the troops but more refined and snug against the face than that of his subordinates, with spherical eyes of bright golden color that seemed to scan the surroundings with rapid neck movements.

Fihn Qoassy looked around uncertain of what to do. He approached Xiahom, searching for an experienced figure to follow, but Xiahom simply walked away without saying a word, heading towards Lieutenant Khalheim. Fihn watched as Xiahom stood in front of the leader and seemed to ask him a question.

However, Khalheim didn't respond. Instead, he spun on his heels and marched towards the front of the vehicles. He pounded forcefully on the driver's door, which opened with a metallic screech as the frost cracked.

—What's going on, Lieutenant? — asked the driver, buffeted by a gust of icy wind.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Khalheim stared at him through his golden lenses.

—Why the hell didn't you keep going instead of leaving us stranded in these terrible conditions? — he spat with contempt.

The driver swallowed nervously, intimidated by the Lieutenant's presence.

—Sir, it's impossible to continue. The slope to the top of the plateau is too steep. The snow isn't compact enough. We risked getting stuck or having an accident —

Khalheim held the driver's gaze for a few moments. Finally, he nodded, scratching his neck beneath his beard, understanding the situation. He walked away from the MT and returned to the silent troop. He asked one of his subordinates to hand him his cane. Quickly, a man handed it to him, and with the push of a button, the cane revealed a retractable extension, turning it into a climbing pole.

—Let's move, we have to climb to the top — he ordered, pointing with a nod of his head towards the plateau. The troop began the ascent to the plateau. The slope was extremely steep, their steps sinking deeply into the loose snow. After a while, Fihn began to pant heavily; the physical exertion was already taking its toll on his legs and lungs.

—Come on, rookie, are you going to give up so soon? Pussy — Xiahom's distorted voice sounded mocking behind him.

Fihn gritted his teeth., refusing to respond. He continued climbing with determination, though each step was torture. The icy wind whipped at their masked faces, and the swirling snow made visibility difficult. Amidst the howling wind, the troop struggled to close their coats to shield themselves from the waves of cold.

Almost more than an hour had passed slowly as they ascended without rest. The men barely spoke, focused on moving forward and conserving what little energy they had left. Some slipped and fell, cursing loudly as they had to start the journey all over again. At one point, Fihn looked back upon hearing a muffled cry. One of the soldiers had slipped and fallen several meters, sinking into the snow up to his waist. Khalheim ordered them to stop and help their subordinate; exhaustion was evident even in his voice.

Finally, when it seemed like there was no strength left, they spotted the summit. With one last effort, the soldiers managed to reach the edge of the plateau and climb out of the steep slope. They collapsed in the snow, catching their breath. The MT-60s had disappeared into a white mist in the distance.

—Rest for five minutes— Khalheim's order was met with relief by his exhausted men.

Fihn tried to catch his breath as a fellow soldier offered him a sip of his lukewarm water to drink through a cooled conduit to prevent freezing. The young rookie surveyed his surroundings; the plateau stretched vast and flat, a more accessible terrain at least. In the distance, they could make out what seemed to be a settlement with towers and walls on the horizon.

—Hey rookie, tired? — Xiahom's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. —And this is just the beginning — he laughed.

Fihn frowned behind his snow-covered mask, his silence seeming not to bother the veteran. He prepared himself to continue the march. Inside, he hated that the veterans took advantage of the rookies; they had been through the same. But he knew that after paying the price of being a newbie, he would eventually become someone just like them after all.

The soldiers stood up, recovered from the tough ascent. Fihn stayed close to Xiahom, somewhat reluctant, but he knew he could be a good role model to follow. So much so that he mimicked his movements like an obedient rookie. Lieutenant Khalheim adjusted his rifle and pointed forward with his baton.

—Maintain formation. Follow me in this direction, stay alert — he ordered with a distorted voice.

The troop moved in a straight line across the plateau, walking separated by more than two meters as a precaution against attacks. They were getting closer and closer to the settlement in the distance. Fihn noticed that it looked like a small town surrounded by walls of rusty metal, likely recycled scrap from the old world. At regular intervals, improvised towers rose with guards covered in blankets and cloths to protect themselves from the extreme cold, carrying automatic rifles.

As they approached, one of the guards in the nearest tower spotted them. Through a megaphone, he shouted:

—Stop right there! Who are you and what do you want? —

Lieutenant Khalheim stepped forward a few steps and raised a fist to stop his troop. One of his subordinates handed him a megaphone, and he responded firmly:

—We are a detachment from the Hommss Republic. We come in peace to establish relations with the Principality of Kane. We bring a diplomat to meet with your leaders —

There was a brief pause with no response; those guards did not seem to accept the presence of Hommss forces. Fihn nervously watched as the guard seemed to give instructions over the radio while another aimed the barrel of a mounted machine gun at them. Xiahom turned to look at him.

—Relax, rookie. Just be ready for whatever comes, whenever it comes — he muttered.

The guard took the megaphone and announced himself again.

—Only four people along with the diplomat are allowed access... All unarmed! — Lieutenant Khalheim turned around and called out to his diplomat, who carried a transparent plastic tube containing a rolled manuscript inside. He seemed to be giving him instructions in a low voice, then he looked up and called a group of soldiers, among them Fihn Qoassy and Xiahom. The latter told him to hurry up and follow without question.

—You four will enter with Vancel; your primary objective is to ensure nothing happens to him and that he returns in one piece — ordered the lieutenant, pointing to the diplomat. —Now, leave your weapons and proceed to the front —

They walked unarmed with their arms raised, sinking into the snow, and stopped as they approached the great gate of the Principality. They waited for several tense minutes until a metallic creak announced that the heavy gates of the settlement were slowly opening. From the white flurry emerged a group of figures wearing cloaks, their body shapes not clearly discernible. One of them raised a hand, signaling for them to enter. The group complied, with Fihn being the last in the formation, and with his arms raised, he walked into the interior of the settlement, watching as the guards from the wall and towers aimed their weapons at them. He was very nervous about what was to come.

image [https://i.imgur.com/gcxKC1K.png]2024 © LJ Kauffmann