by John Davis
“Listen, I have to leave in a few hours to take care of some business. Some other people need that same kind of help. While I'm gone, I need you to look after the crew, can you do that?” Roman said, handing the boy a brand new combat knife he had collected from the ship's armory.
Seeing Troy's face light up, smiling from ear to ear as he eagerly snatched the blade; nearly was more than Roman could handle emotionally. To watch a young child go through losing his parents, nearly dying at the hands of some piece of shit mercenary and then be so enthusiastic about something as small as a blade. Roman held back, choosing instead to funnel his emotion into ending as many lives of the bastards who force children like Troy down this road, bastards like the Hunters.
Death, imprisonment, torture; none of these things concerned Roman any longer. He had become a monster, one that was hellbent on making the star system a better place to live, one slaying at a time.
After Troy had fallen asleep, Roman waited a few minutes to make sure the boy was comfortable before leaving the infirmary, passing Captain Michaels as made his way into the main hall of the ship.
“Troy alright?” Adam asked. Roman nodded his head, letting the Captain know that he was fine.
“Dunno if it was the alcohol talking or he has revenge on his mind, either way I just wanted you to know that Dalton pitched a fit on me, demanding to go with you and the rest of the first strike team.” Michaels said. A few moments of silence passed, obviously due largely to the Captain having pulled a gun on Roman not so long ago.
“He's a hell of a shot, I'm sure there will be a few more Hunters laying dead if he's with us.” Roman finally replied confidently.
“Listen,” Michaels said, stopping Roman in his tracks. “You get in, plant the explosives and survive long enough for us to get there. You got my word, I'll get you back here in one piece.”
Standing silent for a few seconds, the former Gali warrior finally looked up at Adam with his fiery but determined eyes. “Just look after Troy while I'm gone.” Roman responded.
“You got it.” Michaels answered as he watched Roman walk to the end of the narrow wide hallway before turning to make his way back to the armory.
It was a position that he had been in many times over. Roman sat in the back of a Chopper, waiting patiently as the rest of the crew for the operation slowly climbed aboard. Dalton eventually made his way onto the skiff, strangely enough appearing as sober as Roman had ever seen him.
“Stay calm. About to be something come through here that you don't want to see. Just remember that we are all on the same team.” Dalton said softly, as the words had just finished escaping his lips when two heavily armored Husk soldiers boarded.
“Just stay calm man.” Dalton added, holding his hand near the chest of his friend as he saw the fury of hell in his eyes.
“Sorry about the young boy.” the first of the two Husk said, stopping in front of Roman and speaking with true sincerity.
Sitting calmly, or at least it appeared, Roman remained silent until the Husk gave up hope for a response and made his way past the men in the direction of an empty seat. Seizing the moment, Roman lunged towards the Husk, pushing him to the ground while holding a combat blade to his throat.
The second Husk tried to intervene, only to have his face come inches from the deathly hollow barrel of Dalton's pump action shotgun.
“No offense friend, but if you take another step towards 'em, not even you are fast enough to escape the shell in this chamber.” Dalton said, wondering if the Husk was indeed fast enough.
“You ever so much as speak of the boy again, I'll make sure it's the last words that fall from your mouth.” Roman said, daring the monster to call his bluff.
“ENOUGH!” one of the Colonial soldiers said, walking back from the cockpit area into the passenger section of the chopper. Pulling his sidearm out and pointing it daringly at both Roman and the Husk.
“This ends now. I'm Lieutenant Avery, I'm in charge of this operation and I swear to whatever God it is that you believe in, if this doesn't end here and now, I will personally shoot the both of you and dump you out of the side of the Chopper. Now, let him up.” the Lieutenant said in a commanding voice, his body decked out in the Colonial blue and gray coloring.
Roman slowly let the Husk up, easing the edge of his blade from the monster's throat.
“Wanna be careful with that blade, next time you might not be lucky enough to have him save your ass.” the Husk said with a smile as he slowly pushed himself to his feet.
“I make my own luck.” Roman said confidently as he once again took his seat beside Dalton, who removed his shotgun as the second Husk was quick to be seated. As he started to follow Roman to where he sat, the Husk reached for his long blade, which was attached to the long of his leg.
“Steiner,” the Lieutenant said loudly, sliding the top of his pistol back into the ready position. “Sit your fucking ass down, or make no mistake, they will be scrubbing your brain fragments from the inside of this ship before we launch.”
“Now look who's getting lucky.” Roman said sarcastically as Steiner slowly made his way to be seated, upset that a fight would not ensue between the two, at least not at the moment.
“You think they're gonna try and kill us the first chance they get?” Dalton asked his friend.
“You think it matters if they do?” Roman replied, letting Dalton know that he planned to kill anyone who stood in his way of reaping revenge for Troy's trauma.
“Either one of them makes a move on the other, shoot 'em.” the Lieutenant said to another one of the operation's soldiers, this one wearing solid blue with heavy gray leather markings, signifying the equivalent of Colonial Special Forces.
As the skiff began to lift off, turning before exiting the launch area of the Capital Ship; Captain Michaels and Sarah were among the crowd that had gathered to watch the departure.“Well, I had Roman figured out wrong, looks like. I thought for sure he'd try and kill a damn Husk,” Adam said quietly to Sarah, laughing under his breath as the blast of the chopper hitting launch speed quickly drowned out any noise thereafter. “Yep, I'm proud of him for behaving so civilized.” Adam added.
Though a small exterior window inside the infirmary, Troy watched as the skiff went into full burnout, disappearing seconds after it had launched from the huge military carrier. He wondered what Roman and his group of soldiers might encounter, wished that he was along with them for the ride and most of all, hoped that man he quickly began to look up to would make it back safely.
“Bumpy ride, damn you would think with all of this money they are throwing around they would have designed a more comfortable seat.” Dalton said aloud as he glanced around at the other soldiers in the passenger area, the strong glimmer of red light filling the cabin.
“Built for durability, not comfort.” one of the soldiers responded, his solid blue helmet and visor giving away the fact that he was the only sniper among the group. If that wasn't obvious enough, he held a single barrel weapon that stood nearly three feet high, the butt of the weapon resting on the floor of the chopper.
“Damn fine piece you got there.” Dalton replied, using the line that he had reserved solely for weapons and women.
“Thanks. Thermal EM scope let's me fire from nearly two clicks out and cut a man in half.” the sniper replied, obviously good at his trade.
“I prefer to kill them up close myself.” Steiner added, joining the conversation unexpectedly; staring directly at Roman the entire length of the comment. A long pause between the elite fighters, Dalton finally nodded his approval on the fighting tactics of the Husk.
“Makes two of us. Give me a shotgun any day.” Dalton responded, if nothing else, to try an built a rapport with Steiner before turning his back on him once the fighting started.
“I have to admit Commander Blaine, I'm impressed.” Captain Michaels said “I didn't expect to see this many soldiers.” as he looked over a short metal guardrail from above, watching thousands of Col
onial soldiers begin to mobilize.
“The fate of most of these men, if not all of them, rest on the shoulders of the men aboard that chopper,” Blaine said. “If they don't get rid of the surface to air defenses, most of these men will be killed long before they reach the planet's surface.” he added.
Adam didn't doubt for one second the ability of either Roman or Dalton, rather, he worried about what they were flying into. So little was known of this new strain of Hunter, and he had a hunch that no matter how tough the Fang proved to be, neither man would even consider backing down.
“Adam, I've seen your warrant file,” the commander said. Although Michaels didn't reply in words, his expression was one of shame. “The truth is I looked them over thoroughly, and to be honest, I didn't see a single charge listed that I feel I should be worried about. I think maybe your heart is in the right place and you've just been tangled up with the wrong kind of crowd.” Blaine added, having no idea how true those words rang to Adam's ears.
“I've also read your military file, you fought in the Glimmerian Wars.” the commander said.
“That was a long time ago.” Adam replied.
“Once a soldier, always a soldier. At least that's my belief.” Blaine replied.
“What I'm getting at Adam, is I believe you would be a good fit here in the Colonial Army. You have the right kind of experience, a heart for the innocent and the love of my daughter.” he added.
Completely surprised by the statement, Adam soon realized that their love for one another could no longer be kept a secret, no matter how hard they had tried.
“A clean start. That's what I'm offering you Adam. A chance to wipe your criminal record clean and become a part of the solution instead of the problem, you and the rest of your crew as well.” Blaine said. Deep in thought over the possibility of starting fresh, the Captain finally looked at the commander long enough to reply.
“I'll think it over and speak with my crew.” Commander Blaine nodded his approval.
“Of course Adam, of course.” the commander replied as he walked down the metal steps nearby to meet with the troops below in an attempt to keep moral up.
“Two minutes to touchdown,” Lieutenant Avery yelled to the soldiers in the passenger area of the chopper. “Strike team goes first, Sweeper team goes second and sniper is with me, understood?” the Lieutenant added, trying his best to talk loud enough to be heard through the roar of the ship's engines on decent.
The soldiers all nodded in compliance as the chopper began a solid nose dive, the overhead light changing to yellow as the entire cabin grew bright enough to see the look on everyone's faces. Dalton counted a total of ten souls aboard, including himself and the Lieutenant.
“I know it's a bad time, but which team are we again?” Dalton asked Roman in a calm voice. Gaining an immediate stare from his friend, who was glassy eyed with adrenaline.
“Just follow me and shoot any son of a bitch who shoots at you.” Roman replied calmly.
The chopper spun around, doing nearly a two hundred degree turn as it abruptly hit the ground, the cabin light switching from yellow to green.
“Go, go!” Lieutenant Avery yelled as the first four soldiers jumped off, all wearing Colonial Special Ops clothing; the standard issue dark blue with brown leather trim covering them from the neck to boot line. As they exited the craft, panning around the darkness with heartbeat sensors attached to their battle rifles, the second group of four hit the ground.
Roman, Dalton, Steiner and his Husk ally all four began searching the immediate area around the chopper, before finally grouping up with the first team. The last off were the sniper and the Lieutenant. Sprinting for the highest ground in the area, the sniper took position on top of a grassy hill, the wavy green blades at least two foot tall. He quickly pulled a thermal blanket over everything but his head and arms, the metal interior of the blanket setup to deflect any type of heat signatures that his body may give off, while the exterior of the blanket was a green camouflage that was designed to blend in with any surrounding. As he quickly set up his long range rifle, snapping it into a portable tripod; he zoomed the scope around to pick up any hostiles who may have seen the ship's approach.
“I got nothing in the scope, you're all clear.” the sniper said as the Lieutenant waved the ship off, taking only seconds before it had disappeared into the night sky.
“Form up,” Avery said into his com unit, as the remaining eight men bent to a knee close together, waiting on their commanding officer. “Strike team, move ahead and take out any patrols on the perimeter of the compound. Sweeper team on me.” the Lieutenant said as the four Colonial Spec Ops soldiers instantly began a defensive sprint into the direction of the compound, which sat in the distance about a quarter of a mile.
“Sweeper team, we wait for them to clear the perimeter, then we move up and plant the explosives. Should be a couple of three hundred inch rail guns and a control box near the rear of the largest dwelling that controls the surface to air missiles. We need to take out all three in order to give the Colonial Army a clean landing. Understood?” Avery said as everyone agreed and waited for a signal from the strike team ahead.
The signal never came. “Eyes, got anything in the scope?” the Lieutenant asked.
“Negative, I got nothing.” the sniper replied.
“Something is wrong. They've been gone way too long.” Roman said quietly in the direction of Avery.
“Strike team, come in,” the Lieutenant said into the com unit, waiting an extended period of time for a response that never came. “Fuck,” Lieutenant Avery yelled in a low voice as he contemplated his options. “Eyes, we are moving up. Keep your fucking eye on that scope, any marks show up, don't hesitate to fire at will!” Avery said as he looked around at the four men.
“Fire your weapons only as a last resort. Now move out.” the Lieutenant said as they began slowly making their way to the compound, taking extra precaution with every step.
The two Husk soldiers were in lead of the group, with Roman and Dalton following loosely behind them and Avery right on their footsteps. Stopping at the security fencing, the group saw a hole that had been made only minutes ago by the Spec Ops team.
“Slowly.” the Lieutenant said as he motioned for the soldiers to continue through the break in the fencing. The first two Husk made their way through and threw their backs to the wall to cover the entrance of the other three men. Once everyone was inside, the first rail gun was in sight, only feet away from their current position out in the open. Waiting several minutes to ensure that they had not been detected, Avery finally gave the go ahead to the group; the explosives had to be planted.
As the first Husk slowly emerged from the corner into the open, he was immediately hit with a high caliber round from a rifle in the distance, the shell piercing his neck, sending him flailing to the ground. The shot hadn't killed him, but left him defenseless on the ground, reeling in pain as he bit down on his arm to prevent making noise that would give the group's position away. Two more suppressed shots followed, one striking his chest and the other piercing the back of his skull and killing him the very moment. A third shot was fired, this time from behind the group. “Got him, that last shot gave me his position.” the Colonial sniper said after eliminating he Legion's sniper.
“Scanning the area, looks all clear but there is a damn good chance that he wasn't working alone.” the sniper said as Steiner sprinted to plant the satchel of explosives, glancing only for a moment at his friend who lay in a pool of his own blood. With the charges in place, Steiner grabbed the body of his fallen clansman as he returned to the group, trying to remain out of sight.
“Surface to air missiles are the most likely to cause trouble for the Colonial Fleet, so they need to go first,” Lieutenant Avery said, checking a map scan of the Hunter compound. According to the map, the STA Control Room should be in this building.” he added, pointing to a small building on the computerized blueprint.
“Eyes open, S
teiner take point, move out.” the Lieutenant said quietly, putting the map away and once again firming his grip on the combat pistol.
As the approached the marked building, Avery checked his watch before informing the rest of the group that the Colonial force would be striking in less than twenty-two hours. “Still plenty of time, go in quietly and don't get sloppy. Now move!” the Lieutenant said quietly as Steiner pushed the large red door, which was made of reinforced red steel, opening it slowly with a small creaking sound.
The room was pitch dark, as Steiner moved inside slowly, his large shotgun in front and at the ready. Following closely behind, Roman and Dalton moved inside of the military target, Roman with a standard issue rifle while Dalton insisted on using his not so standard pump shotgun.
Suddenly, the interior lights came on, giving the soldiers an immediate picture of the building's interior, which was flooded with Legion soldiers who had all four of the strike team members kneeling at gunpoint.
“You're late.” one of the ranking Legion officers said calmly as Lieutenant Avery pointed his pistol directly at the skull of Roman.
“I'm late because your damn sniper pinned us down.” Avery replied sternly.
“Anwick requested you hold these three until he arrives.” Avery said with a more relaxed tone as the Legion officer nodded.
“You should know, I make it a point to kill anybody who pulls a gun on me twice.” Roman said calmly, his hands behind his head.
“I'll make a note of it.” Avery replied, motioning a group of the Legion soldiers to lead Steiner, Roman and Dalton to a holding cell.
As they were leaving the large storage area, they were unfortunate witnesses to Legion soldiers firing a single into the head of each of the strike team members, killing them on the spot.
As they arrived to the holding area, the Colonial sniper lay in the corner of the room, badly beaten and unable to stand.
“Get inside you Colonial pieces of shit!” one of the Legion soldiers said, pushing Steiner into the cell with the backside of his rifle.
