[Val Verde]

[February 21st, 2021]

—

I smiled as the Candice drove the P1-FAV. The Warthog prototype that I had the military develop since I always wanted one.

The Force Application Vehicle, was so named as there was a M134 minigun bolted onto the back end. The electric powered weapon had a armor shield to protect the shooter if the need ever arose. There was also enough rounds to ensure that we could offer sustained fire support when the going got hot.

Two months was all it took to cobble the thing together.

It was a modified Willys Jeep. Except they removed the back seats and bolted on a M134 minigun, and modified the shocks to take more oomph.

There was a lot of plans in the works, but this was the first prototype that Val Verde had made.

I didn’t fully understand the logistics, but I believed my men. They were specialists and I was only the man who made the big decisions.

With these around we could, with workable response time, react to anything. These would give us a cost affordable, wide net coverage of the coastal areas.

We were a military nation, and I had enacted new regulations that everyone would be armed at all times. Light arms were standard for anyone trained, and heavier armaments for those qualified.

The people of Val Verde were to be armed at all times.

Armed crime wasn’t much of an issue on the island as everyone had military training. Only those who were desperate, or deranged by vices did anything more then petty crime.

I grunted as Candice took the ‘stress test’ to heart and I was glad that the seat belts were doubled. The, blessed, engineers had replaced the three point harness to a six point one.

I barked out a laugh when I remembered something from our time in Afghanistan. This girl once drifted an ‘allied’ tank into a perfect parallel parking position.

All so that she could get free shots for the night.

She won shots, and the losers won a lecture on what not to do in a heavy, multi-ton, combat vehicle. A vehicle that was only designed to move forward, or backwards on its treads.

A fact that became clear to the captain as the tank limped back to base. The drift had wrenched the treads off center, and it wobbled as it slowly moved forward.

Candice took a moment to look at me, and I mimed shooting back shots. She rolled her eyes, and then I swear she tried to roll the warthog.

We were airborne, and my my right hand grabbed at the air. My instincts screamed for me to take the holy-shit-handle, but it was not there. I was reaching for a lifeline that didn’t exist.

The fact that I was wearing my Type 34 Wolfpeltz armor did little to comfort me. My armor was also loose on my still thin frame.

I had yet to gorge myself on the new supply of food, and my smaller appetite was easy to fill. Which meant I needed to wait for whatever Doom had predicted to come about.

On the other hand, my diet had lowered me to a fabulous weight. Shame how intense and cruel it was. I could have sold a book.

The warthog could also crush me easily if we flipped over while in the air. The added impact of the momentum, and gravity would cripple me at best, and finish me off at worst.

The whole vehicle crashed back onto the earth. We skidded to the side as Candice was leaning back, calm and relaxed. One arm was on the steering wheel, and the other tapped a tune on the stick shift.

We continued through the poorly maintained dirt road. The warthog kicked up dust as the other half dozen warthogs followed.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I promised myself if Val Verde ever became rich, I would invest into infrastructure.

—

The coastal Village of Fernroot was remote.

It was larger then most, at a hundred and eighty people.

For a population of that size, they only had a dozen trucks, and oddly enough, two dozen golf carts. There was more cars in various states of disrepair.

Today there was another four XM211 trucks were on site. Two dozen heavily armed and armored of the Jade Falcons were securing the area.

From the relaxed stance of the soldiers, I knew it was safe enough. I took off my helmet and Candice did the same.

I stared and made my way over the row of bodies.

Candice immediately made her way over to the soldiers and began to get a report.

A woman waived at me, and I made my way over to her. There was only grass here, but that gave way to a small slope that lead to huts on the beach. Those homes closest to the beach were smoldering.

I stared at the few embers still releasing smoke. The aftermath of confrontation.

“Greetings, Supreme Leader.” The woman was mature, with wrinkles around her eyes. She had a brown one, and a white one. “I am Lady Mala.”

“Greetings Lady Mala. Are you the chieftain here?” I eyed the fancy necklace she wore. Ceremonial for the most part, but today was no regular day for the Fernroot Village.

“I am now, Supreme Leader.”

“Did we arrive in time?” I counted two dozen bodies. I hope that they were effective at responding to the distress calls. I also knew that reality of the situation.

“They tried their best, Supreme Leader.” The woman closed her eyes.

I sighed as I stared at the village.

In Val Verde, under the laws of the island, all citizens must give two years of military service. First Service was mandatory to be a citizen. To refuse service meant rejecting citizenship.

Hence these many small settlements.

People who rejected society, or some parts of it. While they were seen as odd, society itself saw them as the strange cousins of Val Verde. Those who lived with citizens, but were not in fact citizens.

“Some fought back. They tried their best when words failed.” Mala closed her eyes as she recalled her mother trying to reason. Her words earned her a laser beam to the head.

“The medical teams will be here shortly.”

“Thank you, Supreme Leader.”

I gave her a grim smile.

I turned my body towards the four rows of the dead. They were arranged in a rectangle, and I prayed to them.

May their souls find peace. May their good karma, sown in life, give rewards, reaped in death.

“Lady Mala.” I looked up, and saw her staring at the nearest body. Her stare was hard. Her gaze softened as her gaze locked onto mine.

“Can you explain what happened here? I fear that this is only the beginning of a new set of issues.”

Lady Mala sighed, but nodded.

“They came from the sea. Like the rumors stated, they were dressed in bright banana yellow.” Lady Mala gave a faint smile. “Their yellow suits are most likely able to breathe underwater. They started yelling at us to bring forth the gifted, and the young. My mother tried to reason with them, but they shot her.”

I nodded, frowning at the news. We were depending on a boat of some sort. A submarine would make the first response system I cooked up useless. Unless I littered every coastal region with several units.

Val Verde had the old jeeps. Warehouses full of them. They were to be used to react to island invasion in case the Axis forces were able to make landfall.

They didn’t and the old vehicles sat in those warehouses. Disassembled and in pristine conditions. For the most part.

A few warehouses got worn down with time, and rust was an issue with up to a third of all the original assembled fleet.

What we didn’t have was a equal supply of heavy armaments. Maybe it was time to talk to some old friends again. I wasn’t sure what we had left as collateral, but I hope we had something.

“They did take the children, but not as many as those who had been trained were able to fight back. Little good that did.” Lady Mala’s eyes scanned the other bodies.

I nodded. People who died to protect the people. A common story in recent years.

“Then they put a bag over their heads, and dragged them back to into the sea.” Lady Mala’s eyes stared into the shoreline.

I frowned. A underwater based vehicle. How frustrating.

“Many of our children now see the value in First Service.” Lady Mala grumbled.

I wasn’t sure if she wanted to spit on them, or on me. Either would have been fair.

Val Verde glorified service. Which was the same as glorifying war.

Though in my lifetime, I would have happily spit upon the tradition of First Service. It was true. We trained soldiers, not scholars.

The issue was that the world was hard, and cruel. Many would kill others for profit, advancements, and even fun.

Until the day Utopia came for all, I would be a solid supporter of First, Second, and the dreaded Third service. Post promotion for the dead.

A soldier of Val Verde, regardless of rank, always died a hero.

“I am sorry, Lady Mala.” I whispered as I turned my eyes back to the heroes that laid before me.

“Guide us, Supreme Leader.” She whispered as she took my hands into hers. “Even with only one eye, I can see clearly. You will show Val Verde a bright future.”

I looked back at her. My gaze locking onto her one brown eye. Her gaze was soft, and sad. The village was founded as a retreat from barbaric traditions.

This would change regardless of her personal desires. The trauma of this event would haunt them for a very long time.

They needed to change. We need to change. Val Verde needed to change.

As a coastal people, they would always be first in line to suffer.

As a island, if one suffered, we all suffered.

I nodded.

—

Chapter 13: Banana Men