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PREVIOUS CHAPTER INDEX NEXT CHAPTER Dark Crimson By Nick P. In October of 2162, while on special assignment in the Vagga Karran province, Kurt was involved in the staging of operation Steel Fire with the aid of some local forces. The operation was rated a major success though he had received no official clearance. The idea just crossed his mind and so he went out and did it. Talk about courage. That was the first sign that the Coalition was losing him. They were gonna nail his ass to the floor panels for that but then along came the press. Between all of the publicity, the Coalition HQ in Washington was in a tight spot and had no choice but to promote him to full Colonel. Man, all of the shit around the war piled so fast, you needed wings and a pair of plasma engines to stay above it all. Soon night set in, bringing along absolute silence and darkness only broken by the stars, the two moons, and the ring made of asteroids. Black shadows played out over the rocks and the distant mountains became just a silhouette. Clouds gathered here and there. Karoggon itself could not be seen, it was just over the horizon. But there hovered a cloud that reflected its lights, announcing the presence of a civilisation there, however disgusting it may be. We were all tired and went down for dinner. After Chef’s vivid story, the food actually seemed good. That, and we had been travelling all day and hadn’t had a proper lunch. Afterwards, the Chief and Lance stood guard up on deck while the rest of us slept until early in the morning when it was our turn. It was because of this that I watched the Stroggos sun rise over the horizon and travel behind one of the tiny moons, the bright light nearly eating away the tiny black silhouette, moments before the moon dropped out of sight while the sun rose higher. A pack of dried crackers did away with breakfast. Soon, the buggy was shaking along the familiar rocky road. Noon came and went away and the sun started to drop towards the horizon. Stroggos was larger than Earth and spun faster as well. Days here were around eighteen hours. The harsh air and the high gravity were fine, but it was this shortened cycle that busted me up. I constantly felt sleepy while the sun was up and, when finally darkness settled in, I felt sharp and alert. It was already dark outside on our second day of travelling when lights came over the distance and drew nearer. Consulting our maps, we found that it was a large military complex. The fuel cells were running dry and were begging for hydrogen. The Chief didn’t want to switch to the auxiliary fuel cells, which I completely understood. We had run out of fuel quicker than we anticipated. Perhaps hydrogen is used up more quickly in the heavy, thick atmosphere. “This sure’s a bizarre sight in the middle of nothing.” “It’s the Striker Compound,” said Chef who had just finished browsing through a series of digitised maps on the central holographic projector. “The Chief says that we were gonna refuel at the next stop but our cells are running dry and we should stop here instead.” I nodded. I looked out of the window, out at the military installation. It was really large, which led me to wonder how it had gone by unscathed. It was still a fair distance from Karoggon, farther out than other bases, so that allowed for size. Still, there were no Strogg missiles flying in as we drew near. The base itself was a series of low buildings and metallic barracks built around a central gigantic dome. The dome itself had two colossal beams that curved through the air while two curved semicircles were attached to each one, closing in the middle. The mechanicals there showed that this roof could be opened upon command. And then we saw people running around. The Chief turned the wheel and we soon were driving on a true road. We passed several patrolling officers that gazed through the windows to make sure that we were human and not some deformed Strogg entities. “Are they expecting us this time?” asked Chef. “Damned if I know,” I replied. Along a wall were parked a series of buggies much like our own. The Chief found a spot and parked it there. We all climbed out of the vehicle and down on the Stroggos dust. In the distance came festive sounds, while here less people walked. Behind us was an artificial rise in the soil that served as a barrier or fence of sorts. The road ran along this side, on the inside of the fence, where the parking was, against a gigantic wall that was attached to the dome. At the fence and outside it were two tiny buildings. From the one built over the rise the dark figure of a soldier started running towards us. Clean moved to the side where six speeders were tied up. They were tiny machines, sleek and low, that, when on, hovered in the air. They were extremely fast and could carry only one rider that would sit behind its engine, clutching the handlebars and ducking low behind the tiniest windshield. “Hey, man, check these out! Never been here, Chef? He, check these speeders here. Suzuki, I know those, that’s a good one. Oooh,” he moved to the third bike. “And this one here’s a Ducati. That’s Italian, man!” The figure finally arrived in the form of a panting, pissed-off looking young sergeant. “This must be the guy,” Clean continued. “Fill up our fuel cells and refresh our reserves ASAP, right Captain?” “Come on, move on! You need authorisation to park here, and I don’t have the time. What the hell do you want?” said the sergeant irritably. “You heard him,” said Chef. “And throw in some beer, too.” He paused. “Fine, yeah. I’ll get you the stuff. What’s your destination?” “I don’t have a destination,” said Clean. This did not lighten the sergeant’s mood. “What? What the hell, don’t play games with me. What in the hell is your destination, damn it? Who’s in charge here?” “Sergeant,” I spoke up. “These guys are with me. Our destination is classified. I carry priority papers from ComSec Intelligence issued by the Coalition HQ branch in Washington D.C….” He nodded. “Alright, ok, yes sir. But see, the thing is, it’s a really big night and I can’t just do that. That’ll cost, oh, four-hundred Euros per fuel ce¾” I couldn’t believe this guy! He was charging for what was supposed to be a free service from the Coalition. Charging us! I jumped forward and grabbed him, raising him up by his collar. His face drew near mine and I could feel his hastened breathing. His eyes were wide in surprise and fear for I was a superior. We stood there for a moment, glaring. “Just give us some fuel!” I told him, wrinkling my nose. “You got it,” he said, straightening himself out after I let go of him. “Hey Captain, I’m really sorry, but, uh, it’s really bad over here tonight. Here, just take this over there to that desk,” he pointed around the bend of the parking. “Just there, and you got it. It’s been crazy, show cancelled tonight. Word has it that Stroggs are coming this way in big numbers. We’re being shipped outta here in a few days, everyone’s going crazy. I’m sorry. USO comedy tour was supposed to come, along with Playboy, some other stuff. I’d give you tickets, but show’s cancelled, alright? Sorry, no hard feelings, right?” We walked away from the sergeant whose incessant explanation seemed to have no end at all. The boys seemed disappointed. “Why the hell would they cancel the Playboy bunny visit?” complained Chef. “I mean, who’d ever cancel something like that.” The Chief spat on the dusty ground. “I can’t believe they ever actually thought up of something like that. I mean, getting civilians into this dump. There is no safety for the soldiers, let alone a few absolutely defenceless civilians.” The others quieted and listened intently. “Don’t you see? This war is like no others. It is fought far away in deeply hostile space. We’re not talking kilometres. We’re talking light-years.” “That, and I just can’t see those bunnies going through a time warp,” said Clean. They laughed at the image. “What? They’re so anorexic they won’t have anything to spew¾” Lance looked at me. “So what do we do, Captain? Fuel cells should be done in ten minutes or so. There’s not much to do here. We leave?” I nodded. “Don’t stray too far from the buggy,” I said. “I want you all back in ten minutes.” They dispersed while I headed back to the buggy. That night, amidst all the chaos and panic of the oncoming Strogg horde, a man was killed by another because he had stolen his tea set. |
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