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PREVIOUS CHAPTER INDEX NEXT CHAPTER Dark Crimson By Nick P. When we finally landed, we didn’t simply land on Stroggos dust. It was utter chaos. I saw a fraction of it from my tiny window and saw a whole lot more once I left the metallic craft behind me. But it was an awakening, an awakening into the war. I wanted to wake up here; I wanted to leave the toiling and insanity of my containment chamber behind, a mere memory. And here it was. It wasn’t a very glamorous sight, but it was what I wanted. The base was situated on a sort of plateau that grew into a distant mountain range. From where we came were the steep walls that fell into the barren, empty ocean of dust and rocks below. The flattened area was ideal for landing and soon there were four crafts there, their once-shiny metallic fuselages now battle-scarred and dusty. Three troop carriers had been lost in the fray. In the rockface opposite of the ‘sea’ was the base itself, carved into the rock with a small cabin outside that regulated the gigantic, heavy door at its entrance. The door was half-open and people randomly ran in and out. It was complete chaos, the running and the shouting. A high-pitched whirr rang through the air and there were several cries, moments before a streak that was a Strogg missile fell from the sky and hit a small distance away from the base itself. A cloud slowly rose, trailing its grey tendrils beneath and pulling them into the sky. Another distant explosion was audible. I descended the stairs and met a high-ranking commander standing there, awaiting my arrival. I stood at attention and focused my gaze in the distance as customary. My vision was soon filled with dust and smoke as another explosion went off little ways above the station. I was told at ease and gazed at the commander. He seemed to be in his forties and battle-scarred with his hair cut short and arms behind his back. He wasn’t wearing armour, apparently not bothered by the continual rain of fire, wearing a standard-issue military uniform. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses and like the general, he sported a cigar that was wedged between his lips. He reeked of tobacco to the point that I wondered if it was possible to contract lung cancer from simply hanging around him all day. The putrid cigar smoke floated forward and filled my nostrils. I was reminded of the gunner general and wondered as to whether the commander was in any way related to him. “Sir, are you in charge here?” “Yeah,” he said. “As much as anyone can be in this place.” Another explosion went off, this time it was within the boundaries of the base, right besides the door. Several people went flying, carried along with the dust. I couldn’t help but draw back and throw my hands up to protect my face from the torrent of sand that soon followed. The commander did not seem bothered. His hair simply waved at the shockwave while he remained still, thoughtfully chewing on his cigar. “So you are Captain Willard, 143 division? ComSec and Coalition?” I nodded. “Yeah, ComSec is one hell of a ride, eh soldier?” He pulled the cigar out of his mouth, revealing perfectly shaped teeth yellowed with tar. “Went that very way myself once. Hell, if you’re lucky, you might end up like me some day!” He grinned and continued masticating the cigar as another shockwave from an explosion blew across his face. He started to walk away and I followed. “When do I set out?” “Ugh?” He hadn’t heard me because a missile fell from the sky and impacted one of our troop carriers. It turned yellow and expanded into a cloud that engulfed it. The cloud lifted, reddening, then blackening, leaving the few charred remains of beams and wires and gears and things left from the explosion. “What was that?” he asked me. “I asked when I set out.” “Uh, soon.” he simply stated. He walked forward and started yelling at two soldiers that were lying on the ground, dreamily looking at the sky and explosions, laughing and enjoying themselves. “Get your damned asses off the fucking ground! You call yourself soldiers? Do you think you’re in Dallas or something? Well guess what?” he shouted at the soldiers that were now walking away, muttering. “Dallas doesn’t exist anymore because of baboons like you!” “Sir,” I called after him. He continued walking aimlessly here and there, shouting at the soldiers for doing just what he was doing, wandering around without a purpose. “Come on, assholes! Get the fuel trolley out here! Jesus, what are you, having a freaking tea party??? Come on! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!” His arms were swinging madly as he gestured for them to bring the fuel truck out. “Come on!” His sunglasses nearly fell from his nose. I wondered how he kept his voice for so long. “Let’s go!” He shouted and started walking in the opposite direction. “When will I be cleared to go, sir?” I asked, running after him. “You have my clearance. A supply ship that’ll also have your vehicle will be coming shortly. You may go as you like, but make sure you collect the soldiers that’ll be going with you.” “Who would those be?” “What the hell are you doing you bastards?” He ran forward to scream at another group of soldiers. He soon finished and I ran up to him again. “Who would those be?” “What?” “The soldiers that’ll be going with me?” He paused and looked at me through his thick shades. “I have assembled them. They’re inside the hangar right now. As soon as your buggy is brought by the supply ship, you’ll find them there, so don’t worry. Just wait a little longer, supply ship should be coming in any minute now.” And with that, he took off towards the edge of the plateau, where a group of young soldiers were using transportation carts to roll down the steep precipice before climbing up and riding it again. Behind me, another explosion threw a cloud of dirt into the air. |
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