Chapter 3: Sins of the Father

Planet: Crucis II - Jungle Hunting Grounds

Outskirts of Havens Hold

Date of 241.06-30

  Morning dew soaked the forest. Multiple grassy blades and thin branches hung low under watery weight, aftermath of the downpour last night. A light wind carried the voices of the forest as it weaved between trees. At morning's beckon, Matt crawled out of his tent and sat upon a mossy log. It strained as he yanked off his boots, giving each one a hard shake once upside down. Dead leaves and dirt clumps hit the ground.

  The less than graceful exiting of the tent by Hobbes drew his eye.

  “About time you woke up.” Matt tugged both boots back on and tied them tight. “Bit of a slow morning or are your bones acting up?”

  “Last I checked, Matt, I was never ‘boots on the ground’ like you, bless my ever grateful soul.” Hobbes made an unpleasant hand gesture. “Thus, you’d better keep those remarks to yourself or so help me.”

  The orange sun peeked over the distant mountain ranges. A soft and rising glow to the morning, good sign for the day to come. The edges of their clearing teemed with life. The lower end of the pecking order, small critters and peaceful birds occasionally made their presence known.

  “As you wish.” Matt dipped his head courteously, then reset himself more comfortably on his log. “We have at least 24 hours left, so the job takes precedence anyway. I’m leaning to a yes if the money is legit and risks aside, plus team is already on their way here. What’s your final verdict?”

  “Questions of any sort will have to wait until after breakfast, least of all relating to that. Wait until we get to a good spot first." Hobbes’ stomach grumbled in agreement. "Now, let me get my damn coffee in peace.”

  Hobbes took a seat on a nearby stump. After opening the top of the heater pot, he started a brew. Matt rifled through his rucksack for the perfect morning meal.

  “You know, I could have brought some SM-9 stimulants to really wake us up.” Matt shuddered at his own suggestion as did Hobbes. “That crap works, works too well.”

  “You still have some laying around?” Hobbes beat his chest to clear his lungs, the morning air not quite agreeing with him. “I thought they banned it?”

  “Without a doubt, but I'm only speaking hypothetically.” Matt clarified with an accompanied nervous laugh. “During the Krona conflict, that stuff was way too rampant for my taste. I wouldn't touch that shit in a thousand years.”

  Actually, make that a million…

  “Hmph, funny how Krona keeps coming up. I swear I miss when the past stayed in the past." Hobbes tried to conform his hind quarters to the stump’s uneven surface, but it was a lost cause. He poured himself a cup of coffee and caught the packaged meal Matt tossed his way. "Anyway, I'd rather not deal with any withdrawal symptoms a second time. One conflict’s worth was quite enough, thank you very much.”

  “Amen to that, Hobbes, fucking amen to that.”

  The Krona conflict was a short but disastrous and costly aggression by the Coalition. The PMCs turned official government got caught up in trade and mining disputes. Krona being protective of its few territorial possessions, called the Coalition’s bluff. Unfortunately, it was not the ruse they thought it was.

  Somehow, both Hobbes and he survived in one piece. Though that statement pertains more to the physical than mental side. Hell, Matt was not even supposed to be there in the first place. But he went and decided to volunteer and get away from his home and parents.

  Good ole story of youthful vigor striking out on his own, and yet it ended so well…

  They finished and left camp for the hunt with weapons in hand. Hobbes held a modified heavy pistol and Matt a single shot hunting rifle. They ventured deep into the jungle as the sun traveled across the sky. Through the undergrowth they weathered the heat and strain on their muscles.

  “This area is good.” Hobbes pushed away a low dipping branch. “We should be close enough, or enough I’m willing to risk.”

  “Sure on that one?” Matt snapped a vine that hitched onto his shoulder. “Your judgement hasn't always been your best quality at times. Though to be fair, its more so with certain characters than animals.”

  He placed his hand over his chest, aghast at Matt’s accusation. “If you're referring to my choices in women, then I'm stunned.”

  “Really? I’ve a vivid memory of a vixen, Rochelle, trying to relieve your finances as well as your fluids. What about Vivian? Leora?” Matt rolled his eyes as he worked his way up a steep incline and crested the miniature hill. “Just a few names that come to mind.”

  “Rochelle, she was down on hard times. I can hardly blame her.” Hobbes began his vain defense, though seemed to do so in humor more than anything else. “Vivian, well look, who can blame me when they are that inviting. And Leora...okay, you have a point with that one.”

  “As I thought.”

  About 10 meters from the base of the reverse slope was a thick tree. The roots exposed above a pit of sunken ground. Settling deep into the crevices between the roots, they waited. Matt rested his rifle against a notch on the exposed leg of the tree and aimed towards the clearing. Knees propped up, he reclined with a tree root in his back to steady his aim.

  “Okay, Hobbes, we got some time to kill.” Matt shifted to see his friend out of the corner of his eye. “How are you feeling about this job? Got any words to change my mind?”

  “Not especially great when it comes to meddling with the Coalition.” Hobbes scooted himself further between two roots. “That's why I’m taking the bet.”

  “Serious?”

  "Yup." He replied, deadpan as the grim reaper himself.

  “Huh, usually consider myself on the riskier side of the spectrum over you.” Matt rested his cheek against the rifle’s buttstock, head still partially angled at Hobbes. “Any particular reason in mind?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact.” He scoffed. “Because if I don't, then some other blind moron will get himself killed.”

  “So what? You’re a martyr now?” Matt surveyed Hobbes intently, not hiding the higher pitch of surprise in his voice. “Hard to see that, especially in a case like this one for nova's sake.”

  “We’re all martyrs to some degree, big or small.” He chuckled wearily with heels digging into the softer dirt. “I just want to spare someone else the trouble of getting in over their head. I don’t trust anyone else but myself, and maybe you.”

  “Thanks, but I hoped I was more reliable than maybe.” Matt shook his head, then focused on the landscape before him. “As far as your decision goes though, I can’t really argue.”

  “Best not with your elders.”

  “Sure.” Matt then clearly heard Hobbes pull a metal canister from one of his pockets. “Thought you gave that up, or you couldn’t let it go after all?”

  “I tried, honestly." Hobbes spun the cap off and downed a shot. “It's an import from Hestia itself actually, rather hard to get a hold of. Ironic in a way, coming from the Coalition’s homeworld. They normally like to keep all the good stuff to themselves.”

  Irony has a sense of humor now and then…

  A good man and better friend, Hobbes was a solid anchor in a world of madness. Matt had to be honest with himself and his own what ifs. If they had not met those years ago, no telling how far down that metaphorical black hole went.

  After an hour or two, they heard leaves rustle in the distance.

  “Hobbes, we have a visitor.”

  Heavy paws trampled thick undergrowth as a guttural warning echoed through the valley, followed by a high pitch squeal. Creatures scattered frantically for safety. A calm silence preceded the predator’s path.

  A big cat, the Shrryda, encroached upon the edge of the clearing. Four legs, a thick tail, and a scathing whiskered face. It moved with calculated purpose. Its black fur camouflaged to the surroundings when idle. At full length, its lithe figure was near seven feet long and weighed in around 250 to 300 pounds of strong sinew. Extendable from all paws were sharp hooked claws, able to rip and tear through thick hides.

  “200 meters.” Matt pushed the buttstock further into his cheek, lungs inhaled to full capacity. “Moving in nice and slow.”

  Their voices lowered to almost inaudible whispers. In the calm before the storm, both were frozen in place. However, underneath the stone expressions were erratic hearts beating with primal instincts.

  “Get ready.”

  The shrryda closed to 150 meters as it gracefully sauntered into the clearing, fangs bared for any that lingered. It prowled in a circle around a lone tree in the middle. The whiskered nose sniffed left and right until another sound arose. Off to their right a female shrryda, denoted by the white marks across her eyes, entered the clearing.

  They locked eyes and circled each other in a ritualistic dance.

  “Oh crap, that’s no good.” Matt said in a hushed urgency. “Hobbes, we need to move.”

  One was a challenge, two together was only asking for trouble. It made it even worse that the other was female and posed a greater danger.

  “I do agree, a mating ritual is not something I want to get stuck in the middle of.” Hobbes leaned forward to get a better view, head hovering millimeters over Matt's shoulder. “Let's pack it up, very fucking quietly.”

  Matt unhooked his legs and moved into a low crouch. Very cautiously, they backed down the slope and out of sight. After a far enough retreat, they followed a small ridge and a tree line to create distance.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “That situation had trouble written all over it, unfortunately.” Hobbes sighed and pushed away a low branch that almost cut his cheek. “Your backup plan?”

  “Gonna hit those red thorn bushes about 50 meters back, then detour around.” Matt paused in front of overgrown shrubbery taller than either of them. With a job handed to him, death was not an enticing option. Better to play it safe as they could. “Dealing with two, I'd rather take a bullet than get torn to shreds.”

  A muffled but distinguishable growl turned them to statues. Hobbes lethargically raised his finger and pointed at the branches above, both prematurely grimaced. Matt traced the imaginary line upward. Over Hobbes’ shoulder, a pair of ominous yellow eyes perched from a thick branch.

  Matt mouthed his next words carefully.

  “Get...ready...to...move.”

  The shrryda poised to lunge. It was barely more than a brown and green blur with its environment. The jungle then came to life and pounced.

  “Now!”

  Matt and Hobbes moved with newfound haste, acting in the nick of time. The large cat missed within inches and landed between them. Head snapping left and right as if to decide who to go after first, it picked Matt.

  The shrryda charged with claws fully extended. Matt swung his rifle up and fired off a round, but the creature was faster. It knocked the rifle out of his hands.

  “Hobbes!" Controlled panic set in. “Some help!”

  A deafening gunshot caused the shrryda to stutter and jerk its head, eyeing the smoking pistol. It danced to more bullets aimed it's way as it changed target, Hobbes backing up with every shot.

  “Move it, Matt!”

  He took Hobbes' advice and created distance while scrambling for his loose rifle. Out of the corner of his eye, Matt kept tabs on current events.

  The shrryda advanced on Hobbes, bullets nearly missing from their mark. It crouched for a final pounce. The extra second it took to bend the knee was all Hobbes needed, pulling the trigger without hesitation. The bullet hit the creature’s hind leg.

  It roared with pain as it crashed to the ground, only to quickly scramble away into the brush.

  “Shit, that definitely got the blood flowing a bit." Hobbes caught his breath. A check of his pistol clip confirmed the weight, almost empty. "Matt, you alright?”

  “All things considered, yeah.” Matt shook his recovered rifle, wet mud flying left and right. The weapon remained intact and functional. “Though I never want to see those claws that close again."

  “You do know that-"

  “-yeah. It’s more than likely going to try to finish the job.”

~~~

6 Hours Later

  The fire crackled while dark storm clouds loomed close by. The dead body of the shrryda lay near the fire between them, the light reflecting off the sheen of its black fur. Hobbes slowly devoured a meal and Matt sipped from his cup, both content with the fact they were breathing.

  “One adventure ends and another begins.” Hobbes downed his last bite. “A fair summary of recent events. Agreed, Matt?”

  “The real question is where will this new adventure end? Our poor friend’s adventure ended unpleasantly.” Matt motioned at the shrryda, admiring the creature even in its lifeless state. It was a magnificent beast. “I’m in and you say you’re in as well, awesome but with one concern. What happens if Vorosh fucks the nest beyond the point of no return?”

  “Not entirely sure, but I’d probably settle on the fact that I’m along for the ride at that point.” Hobbes tossed his empty plate to the dirt, the metal hitting with a dull thud. “I’m more curious about you. You still chasing nothing but money?”

  “Up for debate, I guess.” Matt’s head dropped towards the fire’s warmth, the burning twigs became a most eye-catching fixture. “But it helps keep me going. By the sound of it, Vorosh ain’t gonna be stingy in that department.”

  “What about Jayne? She on the same page?” Hobbes' eyes looked lost to the flames as well. “You should settle your reasons, sooner rather than later.”

  “Settle?” Matt broke his trance with fire, taking in the waning calls of nature around them. “I've got by so far on my current philosophy.”

  “And you gonna ride it to your grave? Food for thought, Matt.” The fire popped loudly as a thick log crumbled in the middle. “We’ve known each other for how long? Three, four years?”

  “Five and a bit, time flies.” Matt sacrificed another branch to the fire. “In case I never mentioned it, you left quite an impression.”

  “I try my best, the Alorath clusterfuck of a job aside.” Hobbes smiled grimly. “But I ask my prior question for good reason. From experience, you may come to an intersection sooner than you think.”

  “And you don’t have a future to worry about?”

  “I’m in my fucking fifties, still capable mind you, but also irreversibly aging.” His eyes were cold, consumed by the dancing flame. “My point is to keep the bigger picture in mind, and don’t forget people close to you.”

  “I get it, trust me.” Matt glanced upward into the endless night, then back at Hobbes only to fall back to the flames. The seductive fire teased Matt further down its fiery hole, orange flickers entangling his eyes. “But I also hate complications.”

  “Welcome to life, Matt.” His judgmental eyes scanned him over before returning to the calling fire. “So ready for me to make the call or not?”

  Matt nodded his head, no words needed.

  “Good, I’ll let Uniden know.” Hobbes pulled out his phone and connected to a specified Net Line. “And Matt, I’m glad to have you aboard. I don’t trust many others like I do you.”

  “Same here.” He jerked his head midway between agreement and shaking off a bad thought. “Not many reliable people these days, so much appreciated and all.”

  Matt lazily raised his eyes to the sky. Off in the distance, a gathering storm hovered and boasted a thunderous applause. The night was not going to be a pleasant one.

~~~

Planet: Ayrennar - City of Fumala

Aftermath of Styner’s Ridge

Year 232 A.P. - 9 years earlier

  The earlier downpour had let up and clearer skies prevailed. The city was a mix of civilian and military personnel coming to terms with the chaos outside. Matt had his own methods, one of the local girls was of the similar mindset last night.

  “Matt!” The commanding voice called his name. “Are you going to stare at the sky all day or help me out here?”

  Maddux, Captain James Maddux to be precise, assisted cargo onto a nearby military truck. With the full collapse of their position Styner’s Ridge, high command acted in a desperate flurry to redistribute forces. However, the Coalition was no slouch and kept the pressure on.

  Maddux was the stereotypical fit and handsome that girls swooned over. Long dark hair combed to the side, a chiselled chin, and a kind of gruffness that would wet her underwear in five seconds. He was also a damned good leader and cared for those under him.

  “Moving, sir!”

  “You're too much of a daydreamer. Think less, act more.” Maddux grunted as he grabbed another box. Not surprisingly, a few of the local girls were watching him work rather closely. “It’s the only way you are going to survive this, just saying.”

  Matt went to work and put forth his share of the effort. Each heave took all the strength he had, even with extra hands. Whoever packed these did not give a damn about the people that had to lift them. Though to be fair, par for the course.

  “I appreciate the wisdom.” He forced a crate into the vehicle, pausing for air before getting another. “Now could that wisdom help move this big one here, sir?”

  “Sure thing." They both crouched on either side and locked their hands inside onto the grip. "It's only mind over matter, nothi-"

  A third person quickly ran to their assistance before they lost more than their words. If Matt could spare oxygen, he would have thanked him. With a collection of heavy grunts and other inaudible sounds, the last of the cargo got on the truck. The driver revved the engine and took off to who cared where.

  As the fumes dissipated, Maddux and Matt took a rest on a statue's pedestal. A monument to the city's founder in the middle of a roundabout. The stone man stood in a pompous posture, hands on coat with head and nose stuck upwards. Maddux seemed to care less about it.

  "Damn, a beautiful day if not for the impending doom."

  Matt peered up at the sky through his fingers, the clouds offering little to no shade. "Could do with a giant fan about now."

  "I got the next best thing." Maddux said. Matt turned and snatched the canteen before it smacked him in the face, liquid sloshing around from the inertia. "Nice catch! Reflexes like that, you should have gone infantry from the get go."

  "Moot point, we're all infantry now." Matt gave a respectful tip with the canteen before drinking his share, then tossed it back. "Fate's a fucking bitch, sir."

  The sweltering heat was no joke. Speaking of, he made a mental note to run by the supply depot next opportunity he got. He had lost his own canteen in the hectic mess on that damned ridge. Though if not for Maddux, he would have likely lost a lot more up to even his life.

  “Matt, I have to ask.” Maddux fidgeted his back against the statue, metal and stone rubbing together. “What kind of forlorn hope brought you into this mess?”

Matt leaned back against a curve at the base, or best he could in combat gear. “What do you mean?”

  “In the interest of killing time, my curiosity bubbles to the surface.” Maddux finished off what was left of the canteen. “You're not from Krona, and I definitely know you aren’t a native of this planet. How'd you get to this shit hole?”

  "A sharp eye." Matt offered a weak grin. "It's a little bit simple and a little bit complicated.”

  "Blazing nova, I'm not looking for a mystery story here." Maddux paused in mid stretch before resuming. “How was it back home? A line of lovely ladies hoping to get your number? Or were you a troubled child and ran away from parents, joining the military right after?"

  "There were different viewpoints, and I'll leave it at that.” The smooth curve suddenly felt more jagged.

  "Right, my bad." Maddux muttered. Matt felt the vibrations through the stone of him shifting around, and presumably adding a few more scratches to the stone. "Moving on to a lighter note. Any girlfriend waiting on you to get back?"

  "Nope, not looking to get tethered down anytime soon."

  "Who said anything about getting stuck in the mud?" Maddux held his hands up in defense of the received look. "Not everyone wants complications. Some people, even women, like to keep it simple."

  "Oh yeah, I’m aware of those ones." His eyes returned to scanning the sky. “Every planet, every moon.”

  “Ain’t that right." Maddux nodded, then eyes lit up in a mini epiphany. "Almost forgot, I got a good luck charm of sorts I meant to give you. Help me not forget when we get back. But seeing some of your bravery, or foolishness, I figure you’ll need it more than me."

  Matt grunted back in acknowledgement.

  A flock of birds made their way across town. Their proper name but lost to the list of not important enough to remember at the moment. So they sat and enjoyed the calm before the next eventual storm. After ten minutes or so, Maddux prodded for more answers.

  “Keep personal bullshit out and give me the skinny. There’s gotta be something intriguing about you, or maybe not." Matt jerked his head in a half sleep state at his words. "How did your spunky little ass find its way into our forgettable story?”

  “How did I get into this lost cause?” Matt internally mused with the notion. “Born and raised in the NeoTerra Confederate, graduated Quartermaster from the Officer Academy. When word of the conflict spread, so did the opportunity to volunteer.”

  “And what, you jumped right on that bandwagon in a heartbeat?”

  “More or less.”

  Yes, exactly what he did. Crazy decision but felt justified at the time…

  “Shit, you’re some kind of bastard if there ever was one.” Maddux put away the empty canteen he had been playing with until now. “Welcome to the show, kid.”

  Unfortunately, their shared laugh was cut short as a higher ranking officer spotted them. Their feet ached with the idea of being put back to use. It was inevitable. Maddux admitted it first and stood up, his figure providing a small relief from the sun.

  “Sir, what’s our chances right now?”

  “You want the long or short version?” Maddux leaned into the buttstock of his weapon like a crutch. With Matt still resting on the pedestal, he towered over him. “The ending is going to be the same either way.”

  “Humor me.”

  “Well, our air support has gone to high and hell water with the ‘Balintag’ out of commission. We’re also stretched thin as it is with no signs of immediate reinforcement.” Maddux shrugged with a long sigh. “We could win a fight or two, maybe three. Sad truth, Matt, nothing lasts forever on our side of the valley.”

  “In the end all this adds up to what then, a temporary victory?”

  “To use your own words, more or less.” Maddux shouldered his weapon once again and nudged him. “Sucks to suck, Matt, but at least I feel like I got a purpose in this shitfest. Get off your ass and let's go.”

  "Yeah, right behind you, sir."