* * *
“Why the hell did you have to kill him?” Ran shouted, punching Nordica in the arm.
“The guy could have freaking identified me, you ignorant piece of shit,” Nordica roared back, swatting at him with her free hand while gripping the steering wheel.
“You didn’t need to kill the guy, and you know it. You just wanted to try out your new gun.”
“You’re right, Ran; I just wanted to see his brains in the snow.”
Ran shot Nordica a stern look, but then turned his attention back to the empty road. They were still several miles from their hidden storm drain location, and the truck was low on juice, the engine groaning like a sick child.
Nordica saw the worry in Ran’s face and smiled. “Don’t worry, little man. We’re going to make it. And just think of the reception we’re going to have.” Nordica said, cocking her head to look at the cargo bay full of food.
Ran turned to gaze at the food, but quickly peered back at the dark road. Not even a semi trailer full of food would make him feel better. Whenever Nordica killed innocent civilians it made him sick. And tonight, his mind ached in anguish.
The TDU was no place for someone with a weak stomach. There was no room for hesitation when lives were on the line. It wasn’t the lifestyle most children grew up fantasizing about.
Ran wasn’t a natural soldier. A job as medical technician or aid worker would have fit him better, but as fate would have it he ended up fighting with the rebels. His reputation as a softy wasn’t derived just from his empathetic nature either. It was his appearance that really gave him the most grief. He was only a little over five feet tall, so small he didn’t fit into standard TDU fatigues. This resulted in a constant barrage of jokes by Nordica and others about his boyish appearance.
Nordica, on the other hand, had the frame of a soldier. She was just over six feet tall with a solid build rivaled only by Ajax. Her most identifying feature, however, was the dreadlocks that ran halfway down her back. The spent bullet shells she rolled into her locks were a bit much if you asked Ran, but he never dared mention them. Besides, on missions Nordica would take them out.
The truck barreled further away from Lunia, Ran watching as the faint lights of the State buildings disappeared in the rearview mirror. It was a lonely feeling, heading away from civilization, into the sprawl of shanty towns and rubble that had never been repaired after the Biomass Wars. The stretch of road between Lunia and Rohania was known by the TDU as the Pirate Highway due to all the robberies in the past. The Knights never patrolled the blacktop, and the State rarely sent work crews out to fix the potholes.
The truck’s axles screamed in protest as they ran over a pot hole. Nordica swerved to the right to avoid another one, but over-corrected, causing the truck to slide on the icy surface. “Watch out!” Ran screamed as they fishtailed helplessly towards a concrete barrier.
Nordica slammed on the breaks and down shifted just in time to avoid it, the truck creeping to a stop. “Shit!” she screamed, pounding the steering wheel.
Ran slowly loosened his tight grip on the armrests, his eyes fixated on a collapsed building at the edge of the road. “That was close.”
“Too close,” Nordica replied, holding down the clutch while turning the key to start the engine again. The machine coughed and groaned in retaliation. “Come on!” Nordica yelled, her fist coming down on the steering wheel again.
After several tries, the engine blared back to life. Nordica backed the truck up and continued on down the blacktop, cautious not to exceed a safe speed. The two soldiers spent the rest of the journey in silence, staring ahead at the dark road.
Time: 1:30 a.m. February 4, 2071
Location: Tunnels. Tisaia
Nordica trained her headlamp on Ran, the light illuminating his distraught eyes. “God, you’re such a sucker, man; that guy was no better than a Tin Can. For all we know, he works by day as one of those metal machines.”
Ran kept silent, not wanting to relive the same conversation. He realized long ago he would never win an argument with Nordica. He could only hope the food would somehow make up for the man’s death.
“We’re almost there. Keep sharp,” Nordica said, shooting a nervous look back at Ran.
“HQ should be a few tunnels ahead,” Ran responded, pulling one of the bags loose from a rock it was caught on.
“Why wouldn’t Obi send us any men to help us drag this food to HQ?” Ran asked.
“Now you are questioning Obi? I’m sure he had a good reason for not sending us help. Besides, you need the exercise. Maybe it will help you grow a bit,” Nordica said, grinning.
“Very funny. One of these mornings, you’re going to wake up bald, you know that?”
“Try it. Just try it. I’ll make sure you end up more than bald.”
A hint of a smile crawled across Ran’s face as they continued in the darkness, but the foul scent of sewage quickly erased it from his mouth.
“There it is,” Nordica said, dropping her sack of food and pointing at a small burning candle marking the HQs entrance. “Now be quiet. We don’t want to get shot.”
Ran dropped the sacks of food carefully on the ground and followed Nordica through the darkness towards the small candle. “Do you remember the password?” Ran asked nervously.
“Of course I remember the damn password,” Nordica shouted.
“Shit, woman! Keep your voice low,” Ran whispered.
Nordica nodded and approached the wall, reaching out and knocking on it four times before standing back, stepping on Ran’s foot. The pain prompted the small soldier to scowl. “Watch it,” Ran whispered in protest.
The odd pair stood there waiting patiently for a response. Moments later, the concrete wall creaked and opened. The sweet face of Juliana, a TDU staffer, poked out. “Evening, do you need some help with those bags?” she asked cheerfully, her smile extending from cheek to cheek.
“Hell yeah, beautiful, we could use some help,” Nordica responded with a smirk. Juliana rolled her eyes before shooting a quick glance down the tunnels to ensure they hadn’t been followed.
Inside, the headquarters was busy with movement. TDU staffers rushed about, some stopping to gawk at the sacks of food the trio were carrying. Others ignored them, their important tasks far outweighing their growling stomachs.
Nordica and Ran headed to the pantry, where Eddia, the main cook, was anxiously awaiting his new shipment of food. He was going to prepare a feast for everyone at HQ. Even the night shift staffers would have a plate waiting for them after their shifts were over.
They turned down a hallway leading to the cellar and were immediately greeted by the overweight cook. The thick man pinched his index finger and thumb together. “Ah, now, this is a something I can work with!” he shouted happily, his large belly jiggling over an aging belt that looked as if it could snap at any minute.
Ran tried to hold back a laugh, but a smile broke across his face as he dropped his sacks on the floor. No one knew where Eddia was from, but his broken English implied he was from somewhere in Eastern Europe. His passion, apparent by his round figure, was food. It was no secret he was the best fed in the TDU, more than likely due to sneaking bites of ingredients while he prepared meals. But it was a fair trade, and most of the men didn’t mention it, happy to have decent meals when they were available.
Ran grimaced as the aroma of garlic entered his nostrils, resulting in a deep groan from the pit of his stomach. Hunger was a feeling he had grown accustomed to, much like the other soldiers in the TDU. In fact, most of the rebellion lacked proper nutrition, and some of the lower ranks were on the verge of starvation.
“We got your food, fatty. The biggest load yet,” Nordica joked. Eddia glanced at her, frowning.
“I told you, don’t call me that!” he yelled, quickly forgetting the insult as he rummaged through the contents of the bags. “You got fresh beef and lamb,” he smiled, pulling out two slabs of meat. “And you got onions!” he yelled gleefully, ju
ggling two of them.
Juliana giggled, she had always been entertained by Eddia. Nordica, however wasn’t amused, and grunted as she turned to walk out of the pantry. “I’m going to get some shut eye,” she said, her voice trailing off up the stairs.
“I suppose I should do the same,” Ran said, following his comrade.
“Well,” Juliana paused. “Welcome back, and don’t forget about the staff meeting at 10 tonight. You two are expected to be there.”
“We’ll be there,” Ran chirped, as he ran to catch up with Nordica.
Time: 5:30 p.m. February 5, 2071
Location: TDU HQ Sick Bay, Tunnels. Tisaia
Obi lay in a white bed, staring at the cold concrete walls around him, trying to shut the images of violence out of his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, he heard the screams of civilians in Trolley Station #14 and saw the horrified faces as he and his men descended upon the lone Royal Knight. No matter what he did he just couldn’t manage to keep his eyes open. He was too exhausted. His last two missions had drained him, physically and emotionally.
Luck had once again been on his side, and for the moment he was beginning to believe he had a streak going. The small caliber bullet wound to his shoulder was the cleanest wound the TDU’s doctor had ever seen. Miraculously there was no shrapnel, and the bullet had passed clean through. Once the injury healed he would have full range of motion.
He had survived the unthinkable, but the images of the innocent civilians who had not would be with him the rest of his life. His men had declared the assaults victories, even though the trolley exploded before it hit the CRK headquarters. Obi knew this was just hollow rhetoric, and in reality, the TDU was still losing the war. They would never be able to fight the CRK on an open battlefield; the TDU simply did not have the weapons or the manpower.
And it wasn’t the only battle the TDU was losing. Their guerilla warfare tactics were constantly driving potential Tisaian sympathizers away from their cause.
He knew it would be difficult to win over the hearts and minds of the civilians in Tisaia, but even through the bloodshed and killing, many citizens had joined the ranks of the TDU. It was the platform, the principles of the TDU, which attracted a loyal following. Most people in Tisaia thought the State should share the Biomass and help other nations around the world. That was what rallied them to the TDU’s cause.
A deep thirst distracted Obi from his reflections, and his eyes began to scan the dark room. They finally stopped on the table by his bed and fixated on a tall glass of water, just out of reach. He licked his dry lips and tried to swallow, but his throat was too parched.
Instead, he rubbed his eyes. The door to the room opened and his nurse entered, holding a tray of food and medicine. Obi had seen her around HQ before, but never actually spoken with her. She was close to his age, perhaps a few years older with graying hair and a striking set of brown eyes.
He almost cringed at the sight of her gaunt frame. She was more than likely suffering from malnutrition like many of the other women making up the ranks of the TDU. It was a bad sign, and he didn’t recall her being so emaciated the last time he saw her, which meant food levels were dangerously low.
“Obi, you’re not supposed to be up right now,” she said, smiling.
“I can’t sleep.”
“Here,” she said, holding out a small cup of pills and the glass of water, “this will help you sleep. Take them all and you should be able to rest within minutes.”
“You read my mind,” he said, returning her smile and snatching the glass of water from her hands. He gulped it down, before peering back at the cup of medicine. Pills made him nervous. He preferred to heal naturally.
“Well, go on,” she said. Her brown eyes were persuasive, and besides, he decided he wasn’t in any shape to argue. He gulped down the pills and collapsed back on his thin pillow.
Obi watched her walk over to the door and turn off the lights. “Yell for me if you need anything else,” she said, before disappearing into the hallway.
Obi looked around the dark room again, dizziness beginning to set in. He closed his eyes, and surprisingly, the images he couldn’t shake earlier were gone. Within minutes, he was asleep.
Time: 10:00 p.m. February 5, 2071
Location: TDU HQ, War Room. Lunia, Tisaia
“In the past 72 hours, Obi and his men have successfully taken out a squad of Scorpions and an entire trolley station within Lunia. I think we all should congratulate Squad 19 on this fine and much needed victory!” Commander Heri shouted. A crowd of TDU staffers were huddled in the small war room. A small wave of clapping quickly followed the words of the commander, but died down faster than it had started.
Obi winced as he sat. He knew morale amongst his comrades was low, but the response made it even clearer. The room was filled with veterans of a war that had been going on for over 10 years. The TDU was created after Tisaia had emerged from the aftermath of the Biomass Wars. Now, ten years later, some of the very same people who created the TDU sat in old broken chairs, listening to a new Commander talk of victory.
The bald commander continued, brushing his shiny scalp with one of his hands. “In the next few months, we’ll continue to try and penetrate the CRK’s headquarters. If we can destroy it, the Knights will be left in disarray. This will be the perfect opportunity for the Tisaian people to rise against the State,” the Commander said, another wave of clapping following suit.
“We’re at a crossroads now. The CRK will surely throw everything they have at us. Every Knight will be combing the land above our heads and the tunnels, searching for our headquarters. We must stand united in the face of the enemy. We must fight as if tomorrow is our last day on this earth,” the Commander said, raising his hand above the wooden podium and bringing it down in a fist.
Obi looked over at Ran and Nordica, who shared a bench in the front of the room. Ran watched the commander speak, a sense of hope evident in his gaze. Obi had seen this before, especially in new recruits. In fact, he could remember the same hope he felt when he had joined the ranks of the TDU.
But that was a long time ago, under a different commander. Times were much different now, and Obi didn’t share the same sense of loyalty to Commander Heri that he had to Commander Leona years ago. Heri was weak. Sure, he could inspire through hollow speeches, but he lacked the bravery Commander Leona had shown in battle after battle.
I can still remember fighting next to Leona in the Battle of Lunia, the fight which forced the TDU underground, he thought, watching Commander Heri continue to spit out meaningless words.
Leona had saved the lives of three TDU soldiers that day. Tragically, she was assassinated by a Knight who infiltrated HQ a few years later. She had been the one and only female leader in TDU ranks that consisted mostly of men.
Obi shook his head, trying to rid himself of memories that made him sick to his stomach. All he cared about now was his men and their missions, not Heri and his hollow promises.
He was done worrying about the commander’s hopeless strategies that simply brought the TDU further from their goals. Instead, Obi focused on bringing his men home safe and finding a way to achieve the goal of a better life for those inside and outside of Tisaia. He had always told himself the world wasn’t lost yet, and to this day he still believed it.
Commander Heri paused as his assistant Fukia stepped up to the podium and whispered something into his ear. Obi already knew it couldn’t be good. Fukia would not interrupt a victory speech unless it was important.
Obi glanced over at his squad, who sat huddled around a wooden table. Creo looked back at him, obviously nervous.
“We have a situation,” the Commander began. “Now everyone, please stay calm,” he said, beads of sweat forming on his pale face. “We have intelligence reports that the CRK have scouts in our vicinity.” The room exploded with chatter, as staffers and soldiers nervously began to fidget in their chairs.
“We have our own scouts monitoring for updates.
If it comes down to an evacuation, you all know the drill and the rendezvous point. Your superiors will keep you updated. Until then I think it’s best if everyone returns to their posts and prepares for the worst,” the Commander said, as he quickly followed Fukia out of the room.
Obi waited behind and watched the area begin to clear. Through the crowd he could see his squad waiting for his orders. All it took was a simple nod, and the three followed the others out of the War Room. For a few moments Obi sat in silence, contemplating this new development, which he prayed was only a false report. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t—deep down, he knew the Knights had found them again.
Time: 11:10 p.m. February 5, 2071.
Location: Tunnels, Tisaia
Riya clicked on his night vision, turning the nearly pitch black tunnel into a static green. Lupa, Albri and the other four members of the squad followed suit, their goggles coming to life. At a distance the squad almost looked paranormal, their blue goggles glowing like floating orbs in the darkness.
The tunnel came into focus as the team cautiously made their way down the narrow ledge of concrete. They were careful to avoid the standing water a foot below them, anxious not to draw unwanted attention.
Riya cringed as two rats scampered through his feet, prompting him to momentarily lose his footing. “I hate rats,” he muttered, regaining his balance.
“Radio silence,” Albri whispered into his mic, raising his right hand to signal the team to stop. After a moment of silence, he motioned his team forward with a short nod. Riya and Lupa continued on, hugging the bank of the tunnel’s east side, while the rest of the squad took to the west bank.
Lupa grimaced as he stepped on an old can, the aluminum crumbling under the weight of his armored boot. Albri quickly shot him a glance, his blue goggles glowing in the darkness. They had entered what appeared to be an old camp. Several skeletons lay about the concrete walkway, dried up skin clinging to their bones.
Riya cautiously stepped over the empty cans of food and tattered blankets. The scene was one he recalled from his time in the tunnels straight out of the academy. And he knew it wouldn’t be the last one his squad came across. They had entered the tunnels beyond the barrier, the tombs created as a result of Project 1200.
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