To A Green Mars

That night the Vagabonds partied like they never had before. At some point, Nameless recalled Sammy and Aj dancing together on top of the table while Hera played music through the intercom, blasting heavy metal. Carla would fight Hera, playing her cultural guitar and vocal music. The two drunkenly argued throughout the night while Captain Spider kept trying to smoke cigarettes. Nameless would snatch them from his mouth, resulting in a slew of insults and bickering between the two, along with a few “N-no respect f-for elders!” Being the mother of the group, Julia would help anyone who got too drunk.

The Professor had returned much earlier into the night, only a few hours after being summoned. At first, the old man was startled by the partying, but halfway through the night, his shirt was off, and he was unabashedly red-faced reciting Shakespeare while Hera and Carla jeered at him over the loud music. The old man could surprisingly party, aided by the jeering and peer pressure of the mercenaries half his age egging him on.

At one o'clock in the morning, every vagabond was utterly wasted, gathered in a circle, their arms wrapped around the person to their left and right, drunkenly egging on Captain Spider, who was trying to write on the ground.

“Itsssss he's big, he's dumb, he has a line for everyone, Professor Buuuuuuuulshit!” Aj slurred, hanging dearly to Sammy and Nameless's shoulders as they grinned.

“Nooooooo! No, no, it's, he's an Earther, he's a girther, professor buuuuuulshit!” Hera roared as she took a swig from the bottle, missing her mouth and spilling some onto Carla, who yelled an insult as she sucked the liquor from her shirt.

“Why must-must I be a girther? I-I am not fat!” the Professor yelled, wagging his finger.

“He's got a fat mouth. HA! Write that down, write that down right now!” Aj boomed.

Spider smacked his lips, erasing a line with his pencil from the paper he was scribing a poem onto.

“Let the little man write godsdamnit!” Nameless belched.

“I-I-I'm writing a-a-as fast as I-I can!” Captain Spider grimaced.

‘I loooooove you guys, man,” Julia said, a strand of hair hanging over her face.

Aj pointed at his face inaccurately. “You-you gotta.”

Nameless brushed the hair strand back over Julia's ear.

“Oooooooooooooooooh,” the group jeered.

“Shut up! Like I ever!” Julia scoffed, embarrassed.

The group exploded into drunken laughter, Aj falling over clutching his stomach; Hera wiping a tear as she roared with laughter at Nameless's blushing face.

Spider stood upright too quickly, swinging back and forth as he twirled all his limbs trying to catch his balance. Sammy gave Aj a hand, trying to heave the giant off the ground. It took Carla, Sammy, and Hera to deadlift Aj as he giggled like a child the entire time.

“E-e-everybody q-quiet!” Spider burped as he made his way over to the intercom.

The group fell silent as Spider inserted a metallic finger into the intercom link.

“We don't mind the stutter, buddy,” Nameless said encouragingly.

“Yeah, but I do,” Captain Spider intercommoned.

Before the group could respond, Captain Spider held his note up to read.

“He thinks he's smart but has discovered life ain’t all art. Always got something to say, never knows the way. He's old; he smells like mold. He's the worst sight of the day, he's a professor, he's slower than a heffer, what the fuck is a Zion anyway? He's an Earther; he's a bit weirder. Despite his slight height, he has the might, Professor Bullshit!” Captain Spider beamed.

The Vagabonds cheered and clapped as the Professor blushed, nodding and wringing his hands as he walked up beside Captain Spider. His button-down shirt was back on him, his buttons crooked, and his shirt covered in stains.

“I would like to propose a speech of gratitude. A long toast if you will,”

the Professor said solemnly.

“Holy shit, yes, I'm starving!” Aj boomed.

“You ain't ever had toast in your whole damn life, and you know it!” Hera yelled.

“Isn't that what rich people eat?” Sammy asked innocently.

“Yeah, I think so,” Carla said with an arched eyebrow.

“Shush!” Julia shushed the tiny crowd, pressing her finger against her lips hard while her eyes squinted. The group gradually grumbled into silence as the Professor cleared his throat and raised his dirty glass.

“I am Professor Zion. Doctor, father, lover, and friend. I grew up in South London; I earned my first Doctorate of Law at Harvard University. I went on to earn two more in Astrology and Xenological studies at the University of Luna.

“I have walked along the Grand Canyon, sailed across the Pacific, ridden in a rover across the Ganymede Ocean. I have conducted numerous scientific studies across each of our solar system's planets. I discovered a rare mineral in our asteroid belt.

“I have served in numerous skirmishes alongside Earth, Neptunian, and Asteroid Belt Marines and Sailors. I was once held for ransom by pirates on Venus. On Armenium, I was drugged by a famous actress. But never have I ever encountered such a wretched and vile manner of folk as I have here on Mars.”

The Professor gulped nervously as the scathing looks from the group bored into him. Nameless cleared his throat hotly. “Please continue, boss man,” Nameless said firmly yet gently.

“Yes, yes, well, and I must say, this has been one hell of an adventure. It was wrong and quite ill of me to judge the Martians from satellite images and legends. There is no finer breed of fighter, nor more loyal, than the Martian Mercenary, the Martian Freedpeople, the Martian Guilds. Here, among the dust and radioactivity, you people have nothing but loyalty. Look around you! Nowhere else in our solar system would such a diverse group be more cohesive than here, on Mars. I am honored the Sol Naval Counterintelligence Command asked me for this mission, and I am quite grateful that you all were the ones that came to rescue me from the clutches of those vile usurpers.”

“I like your fancy words, old man,” Aj giggled.

“Yeah, I understood like ten of those,” Hera sighed.

“It was a good speech, Professor. Or is it doc now?” Julia asked sympathetically.

“Oh no!” the Professor quickly spat a little of his drink out. “I am an academic Doctor, nothing more. I simply hold a bit of medical experience, a touch of stiches and bandages here or there. Dear old Sammy knows far more than I do regarding medical care.”

“Damn right I do,” Sammy giggled.

“Why did they choose you, professor?” Nameless asked curiously.

The Professor sighed. “There are great powers at work here, my boy,” He said slowly, very calculated. “As the most well-traveled of my colleagues, I was deemed best fit for insertion among the Martian populace. My mission is to get that vial off this planet. So that the liberation may begin.”

“Liberation?” Julia asked suspiciously.

“That sounds like Earth talk for another war,” Aj snarled.

The Professor huffed indignantly.

“For the last time, we are not who you remember! We don't want to rule Mars! We don't want or even need your resources. Hell, a single percentile of the asteroid belt's annual mineral production far exceeds ten years of what Mars mined in its prime,” the Professor said defensively.

“Then why are there ships in our orbit, Professor Bullshit?” Carla stabbed.

‘Because we want to help!”

The room fell silent. The clock said two a.m.

“We failed you. We failed all of you,” the Professor said bitterly. “You don't understand what it's like, seeing every planet and moon thrive in their perspective golden ages. Meanwhile, footage of the Martians living in squalor, raging against fate among the wreckage of the former colonies.”

“You're right; we don't. We just live it,” Julia spat.

The Professor bitterly nodded his head. “By every calculation, everyone on this planet should have died decades ago. The fact that your people managed to scrape by and preserve pockets of civilization is a miracle if nothing else. Even if it was achieved through slave labor and brutal force,” the Professor admitted.

“And you're our savior? Here to teach the savages how to read and write, show us a higher purpose?” Hera snarled.

“I am here to remove the last obstacle to democracy and the banning of slavery on Mars,” the Professor confessed. “As long as these vials are on Mars, the warlords have a chance of repelling every army and special team sent by the solar system. With them gone, a new age can begin. One where green and freedom graces the surface of Mars, as it was hundreds of years ago.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

The group was silent.

“What your saying is: we get that vial off-world, and the fleet will help us dethrone the warlords and corporations?” Nameless asked slowly.

“Yes.”

“Bullshit!” Hera yelled.

“Oh! So now you all care about us?” Aj laughed.

“We have cared since the war. You must understand that war was perpetrated by countries, cruel men driven by flags. We are united, a myriad of people defined by their planets, seeking to rid the solar system of such wretched ancient evils like slavery and dominance by strength!”

“Mars was once the gleaming gem of our solar system,” Julia said, remembering the stories from the campfires.

“And it shall be again, a government by and for the people of Mars. No interference from the other worlds, no tariffs, no warlords, no corporations. There will be farmers harvesting crops underneath the Martian moons again,” the Professor said wistfully.

Nameless stepped in, looking the Professor in the eye. “Martians will rule Mars,” he said slowly.

“Of course!” the Professor said.

“We won't owe Earth or anyone else anything,” Nameless said, his fists and jaw clenched, looking down at the Professor.

The Professor stammered, overridden as Nameless continued firmly.

“We carried on. We strove through the dust, and the fire, and the death. We ate each other, Professor. I don't remember how little I was when I first killed a man. But I assure you, if you are lying to get us to do something grand for Earth, I will handcuff you to the biggest target before the fleet bombards us like last time. We will both go to the afterlife together, understand?” Nameless said.

The Professor did not flinch. He defiantly looked right back at Nameless. “That is why I volunteered for this role, and it is why they asked for me.”

“Seems a little too good to be true,” Carla offered.

“If he's lying, we find a different buyer,” Julia said simply.

“I thought we were handcuffing him to a target?” Aj asked, confused.

“Duh, that, too,” Hera snapped.

Nameless looked at the Professor. The small middle-aged man with the button-down shirt, his cocky attitude, Nameless weighed his words. “He's a Vagabond; I trust him,” Nameless said finally.

The group was silent as Nameless retreated. The Professor sighed shakily. He raised his glass. “To the Sadistic Vagabonds, and a bright green future for Mars!”

The group cheered; he was now truly one of them.

Aj stomped forward, picked the Professor up, and gave him a rib-cracking bear hug. The Professor frantically squirmed, waving his limbs as the rest of the Vagabonds worked to free the Professor from Aj's vice grip.

“I'm sorry for being so mean to you, fancy man!” Aj sobbed into the Professor's shoulder.

“It's okay, big buddy, we were all mean to him,” Nameless said reassuringly, slowly peeling Aj's arms off the Professor.

“You gonna make Mars green again!” Aj screamed, spit flying from his mouth as he cried, pointing directly into the Professor's face as the poor man collected himself.

“That's the idea, young man.”

Aj went cold, his face becoming stone-like as he leaned into the Professor's personal space. “Imma do terrible things to you if you a liar,” Aj threatened, swaying, his eyes bloodshot.

“Yes, I got that; I understand wholeheartedly.”

“He gets it, bud. Maybe it's time for another shot then bed, huh?” Julia asked, gripping Aj's arm.

“Shots!” Aj roared, holding both arms over his head as he twirled away unbalanced, aiming for the bottle sitting on the table across the room.

“You're really going to make Mars green again?” Sammy asked cautiously as Aj began gulping loudly.

“That’s why I was asked for this mission. I became a professor to better my fellow man. That's why I volunteered for the program in the first place,” the Professor said exhaustedly.

“We're going to Make mars green again,” Nameless said.

Blood Red Moons

Thud.

The group turned to see that Aj had faceplanted onto the cement floor, small spackles of blood littering the ground around him.

“Is-is he going to be, okay?” Professor Zion asked cautiously.

“That's just Aj being Aj.” Nameless shrugged.

“Yeah, he picked the bottle up when we were kids and hasn't put it down yet,” Julia sighed, watching the giant snore loudly on the ground.

“Perhaps, when this is over, we can see to some alcoholism treatment for him?” the Professor offered humbly.

“Ha! He thinks we're making out of this alive. Dumbass,” Hera cackled.

“Guess I haven't put much thought into what happens after all this,” Nameless admitted.

“Then what's the point of all this pain? This all must count for something,” the Professor spoke kindly.

The vagabonds looked at him, silent. Not one answered, each looking internally for the answer.

“I think it's time for bed. Big day ahead of us,” Julia sighed.

The group dispersed, each going to their perspective corner or space in the room. They rolled out sleeping bags, laying down foam mats to place underneath for a bit of comfort.

As Nameless nestled into his sleeping bag, he watched Julia put a blanket over Aj's snoring body. Sammy set up her foam mat and sleeping bag next to Aj, then wiped the blood from his face with a wet rag.

“You could do a lot better than him, ya know?” Hera stabbed.

Sammy gave a daggerlike look to Hera as she continued cleaning up AJ.

“His heart is in the right place,” Julia defended as she took her tactical gear off, preparing to get into her bag.

“Yeah, but his liver is fucked. All those scars from face planting?” Hera giggled.

Sammy huffed, pulling herself out of her bag. She stomped over to Hera; her fists clenched.

“The fuck you gonna do, little girl?” Hera asked eagerly, posing herself to leap out of her sleeping bag.

“Guys!” Carla pleaded from her bag.

“Drop it!” Nameless barked.

The two girls death stared at Nameless.

“I mean it,” Nameless growled.

Sammy looked back down at Hera, who grinned. Sammy sighed, then went back over to her bag, silently rubbing the sleeping giant’s back gently.

“Goodnight, young wolf pack,” Professor Zion said softly from his corner.

“Goodnight, professor bullshit!” Aj slobbered from the ground.

Sammy gasped, and Hera squirmed in her bag.

“Goodnight, Professor,” Julia said softly.

Spider, the last one still standing, scuttled over to the light switch, his metal limbs softly tinkling in the lack of noise. He flipped the button, and the room went pitch black as Spider slowly inched back to his bag.

“Hey! Watch it; that's my foot!” Hera growled in pain.

“S-s-s-s-sorry,” Captain Spider giggled.

Nameless stared into the pitch black, his mind wandering. What was he going to do when all this was over? Were they still going to some far-off colony? With lots of grass and farms. Why leave if Mars would be green again someday? Surely, that would take too long for them to see it to actual fruition.

As Nameless 's mind replayed every moment from the camp battle until now, he realized how crazy all of this was. They really had escaped the slaughter, fought off vectors, freed an entire city; gods knew what lay in store next for them.

Nameless 's eyes drifted shut in time, his body losing all tension as he fell peacefully to sleep. At first, his dreams were serene. But slowly, the crackle of gunfire seeped into his senses.

He began seeing the twisted bodies of the camp members, his body tense. He could see every person he killed, feel the exact moment their chests stopped going up and down. He saw the face of that young guard before he tore him to shreds with the beowulf.

He could see Mama Jockus, charging into the firestorm, a rocket launcher on her shoulder. He could see the blood oozing from that guard that Julia had shot. He felt the recoil of his weapons, his mind replaying every moment he had taken a life. Nameless could hear them whispering, their hands grabbing at his mind. He ran. He was sprinting, stumbling through the dunes of Mars, two blood-red moons hanging high in the sky.

As he ran, Vectors ran on all fours beside him in slow motion. They weren't trying to kill him; they were barely intact. It was a herd of wounded, scared Vectors, each with a human face crying hysterically underneath their hoods.

“Run, run, run, run, run,” they whispered in his friend's voices, stacked disorganized on top of each other in a hellish choir.

As Nameless scaled the tallest dune, he reached the top. There, he could see the entire valley and the camp. It was burning. Fear and anguish filled him. He sprinted down the dune, his feet dragging as they do in dreams.

Slowly he came down the dune, hearing screams and violence ahead. The Vectors barreled past him, falling apart. Bits and pieces drifted away in the wind as they slowly dematerialized like leaves. All that was left of them were shadows as they galloped on all fours toward doom.

Nameless held his hand out as he ran. There, at the base of the camp, lay his friends. All of them dead. Ripped apart, bags of pulsing red meat. He came toward the edge of the center when his feet slowed. He looked down, realizing the Martian orange sand was slowly swallowing him.

As Nameless sunk into the ground, his arms outstretched, he saw Florence. She was cackling in proper monster form. Her razor-sharp fangs and claws extended. She held a new and bloody skull in both hands.

“Soooooo predictable,” she giggled as she smashed the skulls together, shattering them.

Nameless roared as he sunk waste deep into the dropped.

Above the camp, the sky slowly filled with ships in orbit. Nameless watched in horror as the night sky was nearly blotted out by large silver ships, their titanium hulls glinting in the moons' light.

He looked to his left; there, on the highest dune, stood Professor Zion, alongside a dozen men in tactical grey armor. The Earth symbol stitched into their pauldrons. They pointed at Nameless, shouting something.

Nameless looked to his right and saw a new person. She was stunning, a perfect body barely concealed in a white silk dress that sparkled in the blood-red moons, her face sharp and unscathed. Her brilliant pitch black hair flowed in the wind as sparks and debris cruised past her. Her grey eyes challenged him. She held a small, black obsidian crystal in her hand. She held it upward and got on her knees. She was crying, begging him. Begging for him to take the crystal.

He sunk deeper. Professor Zion and the Earth Men slowly clambered toward him on his left. Professor Zion held some kind of communication device in his hand, the other free. It sounded like the Professor wanted to exchange the communication device for whatever Nameless had. The Professor was screaming, begging for something as well.

The bounty hunter gazed back on the camp, terrified. Mama Jockus now stood next to Florence and another new person. With glowing red eyes, this was a man in a full-body black suit. The three were cackling, pointing, and jeering as Nameless slowly sunk into the ground.

“Please, take it!” the Professor and the strange woman cried out in unison.

Take what? What did they want? If he could just give it to them, he would. The world maybe more depended on it. But he held nothing; his hands were empty. The sand reached his chest. Panic rose as Nameless felt his body burn; the sand was hot now.

The woman in the perfect dress stumbled closer to Nameless. “Please!” she begged.

“I don't have it!” Nameless screeched helplessly.

“They're all going to die! Because of you, Nameless!” Florence shouted singsongingly.

As Nameless continued to slowly sink, he looked up toward the sky. Pure terror filled him as streaks of light roared down from the ships in orbit. As the light lines impacted the ground miles and miles away, nuclear mushroom clouds erupted on the horizon.

“Please!” the Professor and the woman asked hysterically.

“Who are you?” Nameless roared at the woman.

“Give it to me!” she responded, holding her crystal out.

“I don't have anything!” Nameless shouted, heaving himself upright with his elbows resting in the sand.

“Tooooooo late!” Florence screeched.

A wave of air blew through the camp, blowing bodies and tents past the people. The figures still stood, but a wall of fire was fast approaching in the far distance. Thousands of nuclear warheads had detonated, and the fire was about to consume them. Nameless could swear he saw blades of green grass on his left and right in his peripheral vision. Just at it had in the time of his ancestors centuries ago.

“Help me!” Nameless begged.

“Give it to me!” the woman and Professor Zion said in unison.

Nameless shook his head. The wall of fire barreled through the camp, consuming everything. Just as it reached him, he awoke.

The lights were on, and all the vagabonds were gathered around him, nervously watching him. He burst upright, covered in a cold sweat, his chest heaving. Julia held her hand to his forehead. Sammy dabbed a rag in water. Aj nervously clutched his arms.

“Bad dream?” Julia asked nervously.

“Something like that.”

“You were screaming for a minute there, buddy,” Aj said anxiously.

Nameless looked over at the Professor, staring at him with his arms crossed anxiously.

“You shouted my name a few times,” Professor Zion said nervously.

“Bad dream,” Nameless sighed.

“We can talk—” Julia started.

“I'm fine!” Nameless grunted, pushing her hand from him. Julia’s face trembled, her eyes narrowing, but she nodded and retreated.

“Go back to sleep,” Nameless stammered, retreating inside his sleeping bag.

The group grumbled but relented. Each going back to their perspective sleeping bag. Once again, Spider turned the lights off; this time, Nameless stayed wide awake, Staring into the darkness.