Gizzy stepped from the shuttle, followed by Jack and Dee. Nicole brought up the rear.
“Alright guys, we have no idea why we’re here or what to look for, so I say we split up into teams. Jack, you go with Nicole. I’ll take Dee and show her how to run a mission.”
“I’d prefer to go with Jack.” Dee said.
“And I’d prefer a lot of things that aren’t happening. Nicole and I are the only ones who can use the glasses, so we're splitting up. We’re both also good at figuring out the mission on instinct and Jack will be distracted taking care of you. If we put you and Nicole on the same team then we have 2 trained killers, and you have two 5 foot-ish young women who have never killed anyone, with one having no gun training, so that’s just stupid.”
“She’s right. Jack, you go with me. Gizzy, don’t do anything I might consider a dick move, like leaving Dee stranded or even scaring her with a bluff.”
“Captain, I take missions very seriously. I don’t have to love my backup to cover her ass.” She said leading while Dee the other direction.
...
“So we’re just landing on a war planet near an unknown faction gate and knocking on the door to see if anyone’s home?” Dee asked, nervously clutching her rifle.
“Welcome to the team. That’s kinda how we roll.” Gizzy said as they marched on. The dusty desert terrain was flat and the visibility so poor they didn’t even notice the city until they were almost on top of it. Two rows of barbed wire fence angled outward, expanding in both directions as far as the eye could see. Behind that was a tall concrete wall dotted with dozens of guard towers and a single small building in front of the fence. Reaching past the concrete vehicle traps and to the dusty road were hundreds of humanoids in camo and armor, marching and working, repairing walls and fences.
“Did we miss the war?!” Gizzy yelled.
“What allegiance are you?” yelled back the security gate guard.
“Offworlders, we don’t have a faction. We’re just here to look for a missing escape pod. One of our crew accidentally ejected one while working on it, came down somewhere near here.”
“I hate to tell you but anything freefalling likely got shot down.”
“Stealth pod. I assure you it wasn't detected.” she smirked.
“Wait for scans, leave your weapons at the security post."
“Yeah, I’d really rather not, seeing as how we’re two women walking into an alien military base." He looked off into the distance and pondered a moment.
“You can keep one handgun, just don’t flash it around. Rifles stay in the security tower, We’ll confiscate the ammo and let you have it back later.” He waved “Hurry up, next attack is in 15 minutes, you don’t wanna be out here.”
...
They walked through scanners and a soldier from behind the counter took their guns and inspected the pistol, handing it back with one magazine.
“Security seems a bit… odd.” Gizzy noted.
“We just wanna make sure you’re not one of the damn factions scheduled to hit the gate.”
“Scheduled… pretty well planned war. So what is the war about exactly?”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Who started it and why?” she asked.
“Nobody knows who started it. You really aren’t from this sector are you?” Gizzy gave him a deadpan look. “Kyrah 3 is a war planet. That’s what we do here.”
“So you don’t know what you’re even fighting for?”
“Oh we know what we’re fighting for. Weapons testing and defense proving. You don’t understand, we’re not fighting over resources or a dispute, people come here to fight. They pay to set up a faction and they are assigned an enemy. Everyone here is a volunteer and their government paid well to send them here.”
“So it’s a training camp?” Dee asked.
“Not really. It’s a proving ground. Different worlds need to test out their weapons and defenses somehow, so they come here. Think of it as a competitive sports league, but the game is war. Breech your opponents walls and you get paid well, and everyone knows you’re the top dog. But that encourages others to beef up their defenses. It’s all run by the manufacturing station up there. They loan out the place to make weapons and armor, tanks, robots, anything you need for war. It’s not personal, it’s just good business.”
“So the attacks are planned and scheduled. Rubber bullets, stun weapons?”
“Oh, the weapons are real, and the casualties are real too.”
“Why would anyone volunteer to die for a weapons testing planet?”
“The money is great and the benefits are even better. You can serve here 2 years and retire a wealthy man, and everyone thinks they can’t be killed. You wouldn’t believe the number of new recruits filling in for people who are getting the hell out after one day. Bunch of soft-asses. I’ve been here 4 years. Fucking love it. Wake up every day to kick ass, shoot shit, and be home by supper time on the dot when they blow the sirens, making money every day, shooting other cocky assholes who think they’re better. No trenches, no starving, no sleeping in the field, no children and civilians in the way getting killed, just hot dirty fun war like the gods intended.” He smirked.
“That’s terrible.” Dee cringed.
“I dunno, I can sorta respect it. The worst thing about war is the innocent lives at risk. Everyone here signed up and got a time card. And someone in that space station gets rich off it. Because everyone is always at war anyway, here you can test your shit in a controlled manner. Interesting.” She said while looking through her monocle for anything destiny felt the need to illuminate.
“Bad eyes?”
“No, just the one. Hence the one lens. Actually, its got a tracker, we’re looking for our escape pod and crewman. Is there a high vantage point we can check out?”
“Not right now. Strawberry-heads are about to hit the wall. You wanna be low and inside.”
“The fuck is a strawberry head?” Dee asked with more blinking than usual.
“Like you, but inside out.” He smiled strangely, leading them along with no more explanation.
...
Jack and Nicole wandered the streets of an decrepit city overtaken by dust storm and erosion. Rusty buildings littered the streets while brown foggy air rolled in on a slight breeze. They both heard footsteps, shouldering their OMG20’s at the same time, but they both paused at the sight of 3 aliens dressed in apocalyptic beige and brown with metal plate armor and strange helmets. They seemed alert but not hostile.
“We’re not on anyone’s side, we’re just here to find our friend who crashed in an escape pod.” Nicole yelled. The leader, the one wielding the rifle casually at his hip, and the only one not wearing an orange bandana, circled and looked them up and upper.
“Jack they’re tiny.” Nicole muttered. “Not one of them is over 4 foot tall.”
“What do you think they got under those frog-lookin helmets?”
“Frog faces?” Nicole shrugged. “Do you speak anything?” she asked as they seemed more interested in their guns than the fact they were holding weapons and standing 1 and 2 feet over their heads respectively.
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They suddenly looked worried, a siren in the distance welling up getting their attention. They muttered in some unknown language with helium voices and began briskly retreating.
“I guess we follow, HEY! What are we running from?” the smallest one turned and walked backwards for a moment and slowly said something the translators struggled with.
“Straw-berr-eey.” It slowly informed, pulling the bandana over it’s head like a hood.” Nicole looked at Jack as if questioning her ears.
“I’m as lost as you on that one. The translators are definitely confused.” He shrugged as they headed for cover. They noticed a number of them blending into the surroundings, some of them wearing bright orange bandanas and some wearing black.
“Jack, the orange ones are unarmed. I think the black bandana is for the leaders. They’re the only ones with guns."
“A-team, report.” Gizzy said over the coms.
“Reporting,” Nicole said. “We met the locals, they seem friendly enough but they’re on edge.”
“You guys got incoming enemies. Something our faction calls Strawberry heads. It’s a war game planet with live ammo. Whatever the friendly guys look like, stay on their side and kill anything that doesn’t look like that. Apparently these things headed your way are notorious for shooting non-hostiles. So stay hostile."
“Shit. Jack, the orange bandanas are for non-combatants. Should we grab an orange bandana?” Nicole asked.
“Not if the stawberries have a habit of shooting you anyway. Fuck em. If you wanna orange up and take cover, hide your gun and be ready to change tactics, go for it. I personally have had a bad few days and I kinda wanna kill something hostile.”
“Jack, this is not our fight.”
“Yes it is.” Gizzy said before sending a picture to Nicole's phone.
“What in fuck is that?” Nicole asked, showing Jack an image of a heavily armored 8 foot soldier, robotic in appearance like a terminator and the Punisher decided to breed and join the marines. “THAT is a Starawberry head? Looks like a damn giant robo soldier. How did they get that from the translation?” she barked as incoming fire rang out and everyone in a black bandana took a knee and began firing back. Jack, switched to 50 caliber, zooming in 4x and stomping right out in the open, taking a shot and throwing sparks off one of them, who turned and stared back.
“Oh, you’re gonna be a fighter, huh?” he smiled, going semi auto and rattling the ground with a series of running shots, hitting center mass, abdomen, finally going for the head and flipping the switch to grenades, popping the soldier’s top with a wet splatter. “Heads are the only soft target, use grenades. The bodies are too armored to do much to.” He yelled.
“Shit, I hate grenades.” Nicole huffed while switching over and bracing for the recoil if anything spotted her. Jack dropped and rolled out of the way of ground fire as another one rapidly shouldered a rifle and fired back. Jack jumped as his cover position lit up red and a beam of red energy cut right through the stone debris. He realized his cover wasn’t covering much. He hunkered down and got a running start, running up the nearby support girder, and firing 3 rounds before his feet landed. An alarming buzz of machine gun tracers sprayed through the streets, hitting mostly armed black hoods but hitting several orange ones as well. Jack took that personally, waiting for another stream to locate his mark before sending 5 rapid grenade rounds its direction, watching it fall slowly and slump over the weapon. He ran for it, dragging it to cover with the soldier still gripping it.
...
“You gotta be shitting me?” Dee said. “You guys are fighting fucking fruit?” she asked as their tour guide showed the printout on the wall.
“Yep. About the size of a melon, intelligent, ruthless, brutal and violent fruit.”
“How… HOW are you fighting fruit? Did I miss something, what the, wh… FRUIT? How does fruit even BE ruthless and violent?”
“Technology. Outside the armor they’re pretty stompable guys, squishy, soft, the older ones turn bright red and the younger ones stay more orange. They’re actually pretty decent in a pie if you cook them long enough. We have no idea how they got the armor suits or how they run them, but you’re looking at a thousand pounds of metal and fiber armor runnin' on a hydrogen power cell. And in the head is a damn piece of fruit driving it. The good part is that they die if they don’t have sunlight so the plastic armor on top has to be clear, and it’s not as tough against heavy guns. Sniper rifle will go through the top and squish, you just got jam.” He smiled.
“Dee, I got something on the monocle.” Gizzy muttered.
“I think we got a distress signal from our down comrade. Can you take us topside and north?” Gizzy asked.
“Sure thing, but everything here comes with a price tag. So what cut are we talking about?” he asked.
“Cut of what, it’s an escape pod with a dumbass crewman in it. New guy, maintenance jockey. We’re just here to pick him up and go.” Gizzy bluffed.
“Well, nobody picked up any drop, so that means you got stealth tech and the ability to track what we didn’t even know was there. That’s a valuable bit of tech. Now you can have your man back, but we’re keeping the pod and the eyepiece. Nothing personal, it’s just the job.”
“We’re not playing factions, it was an accidental drop.” Dee insisted.
“Well, tough shit. Looks like your new guy cost you some gadgets. Sorry, but that’s the deal. You’re outgunned and deep into a Zidvel compound, so…Glad your friends alive, you’re privy to medical attention if needed but that pod is ours now and you need to be handing over that eyepiece, honey.”
“You don’t know how it works, only I can use it. It’s coded to me, so you can have it AFTER we get our man back. Otherwise we have a problem.”
“Fair enough. Let’s go get your buddy.” He smiled. Gizzy lead onward, walking quickly to gain some distance as Dee struggled to keep up.
“I don’t understand, there’s no escape pod, they’re just robbing us of the monocle and we get nothing.”
“It’s a bluff, they’re not getting shit. Follow the lead and don’t Dee this up and get us killed.
...
Nicole hunkered under one of the orange bandanas, still armed and covering her gun with a bit of clothing off one of the dead non-combatants. She suddenly turned as one of the Strawberry heads turned over the car she was hiding behind and eyed her, starting to raise a weapon as Jack unloaded a burst of 50 cal into it’s dome. They moved swiftly as armored trucks rolled in and began shooting everyone regardless of colors, Jack shoved Nicole in front of himself and didn’t even fire back.
“What the hell are they doing? Half these people aren’t fighters!?”
“I don’t think they give a shit. Keep moving."
“We’re going the wrong way, I got something on my Monocle, it’s further into the city.
“The city is screwed, we’ll circle back later. Grenades don’t do shit against the trucks, I’m out.” He said as she handed him her magazine.
“Oh, like I can hit shit with them anyway?” she huffed. He reloaded and didn’t question it.
...
“Well this makes no sense.” Said the tour guide as men rushed past him and the distant sound of gunfire raged on. “I think your locator is broken, There’s nothing here.”
“Well…” Gizzy pondered. “Maybe he ditched the pod and took shelter here. This is the spot… it’s below us.”
“Damn that’s just bad luck for all of you. It’s one floor down, that’s the morgue. Nothing else below it but dirt and rock. So if your man survived the crash, they took him here instead of the infirmary. Doesn’t sound like he lasted very long. You’re not bringing a man back, you’re just bringing a body, and I’m still taking your shit.”
...
Gizzy brooded with an annoyed look, being lead down halls and white painted rooms that were eerily quiet. They made their way into one of the body vaults as Gizzy spotted the green glow from one of the body lockers.
“That one there.” She said. He punched in the code and pulled the drawer out, getting a cart ready. Gizzy drew her pistol and he paused, looking more annoyed than intimidated.
“Lady, you wanna holster that piece in here. You shoot me and 3 of you go into these lockers. Now do wanna join your man or do you want him back in a box?”
“I don’t trust anyone comfortable with robbing me, sorry if that’s a bit cynical, but fuck you. So I want you to get on that radio telling the people at the front gate that we need a truck, and a free pass out with a body. You make the call, I leave the monocle, you can have the pod, we drive out with our crewman. Simple as that. Or I shoot you, because I know you’re gonna double cross me if I don’t and we run into an impasse at the gate."
“Smart girl. Yeah, I was gonna double cross you. Just how it is here. Nothing personal.” He shrugged picking up the radio. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m with the guests. For their contribution I’d like a truck at the gate, fueled and ready, they’ll be bringing a dead crewman along, everything is fine.” He said, closing the flap and looking finalized. “There. You walk out, clothes on your back, no bullet holes, no problems, have your funeral service. One truck isn’t worth much compared to new stealth tech after all. I’d call this fair for everyone.” He said opening the medical casket and looking confused. “That’s not right, someone screwed up. I know this person.”
“Oh good… friend of yours?”
“Eh, good enough.” He yawned.
“Maybe you can hang out in hell then.” Gizzy said grabbing his hair and silencing him with a knife to the chin, up through the brain. Dee jumped back and looked horrified.
“Holy fucking shit. Gizzy, you just killed the guy.”
“He took the safety off his gun when he locked the door. He was gonna kill us and shove us in these freezers, then take everything we had. And whoever this is has the item we need on them. That whole medcask is glowing. Grab his keycard, let’s load him in the drawer and clean the blood.”
“These missions absolutely suck balls.” Dee huffed, still in shock.
...
They rolled the body to the front gate. 2 armed men stood in their path.
“He got called away for an emergency, gave us one of these cards… for a price.” Gizzy said with an attitude. The guards smirked.
“Everything has a price here, hope you had fun. Truck’s ready and fueled, ladies."
“Part of the price was that I get my guns back too. You wanna run all the way back and confirm that?”
“They’re nothing special, here ya go.”
“You know I got my hands full here, can you start the truck for me?” Gizzy asked.
“Typical woman, can't even start a truck.” He said strutting over and starting it. “Do I get a reward for it too?” he asked.
“No, I just wanted to make sure if it blew up that it was on you, not me. Thanks for being the test bitch, have a great day.” Gizzy said before loading the body and waving to Dee to drive.
...
“So…you think they swiped his card?” the other guard asked.
“I don’t care. Wouldn’t be the first time he forgot to guard his pants while they were off. That’s his problem, we fueled a truck and let them walk. Orders is orders. I’m taking a smoke break.”