Dawn of the Mad

by Brandon Huckabay

  “Colonel, a shuttle may have escaped,” Cruwell said in earnest, trying to get his attention.

  The static broke over the net again. “I know. Admiral Raus is tracking it. We have a bigger problem right now and I need every swinging dick topside. An armored reactionary force is on its way. We don’t have much time.” The transmission ended. Cruwell turned to his men without hesitation. “Let’s go, topside!”

  “You did well, Sebastian,” the colonel said to Cruwell as he continued to scan with his binoculars. The armored column definitely was getting closer, each vehicle leaving a plume of dust behind it. “The pod is being loaded with prisoners and salvaged equipment. I don’t want this mission to be a total waste. Fleet should be tracking the escaped craft. We still have more equipment to go; this ground force may reach us first.”

  Troopers formed a single file carrying various items from the genetics laboratory to the drop pod. Cruwell saw the drop pod was emitting steam and gasses from side vents as it was being prepped for liftoff. The trail through the jungle had widened considerably, almost as if the jungle had given up.

  An explosion near the bunker complex entrance sent earth and shrapnel flying into the air. The lead tank from the approaching column had opened fire from its main gun. “Get that pod airborne!” the colonel yelled. Cruwell rushed down the trail to the drop pod and ran up the ramp into the pod, trying to get the pilots attention. His helmet comms were not audible since the pod was powering up. Due to the captured equipment and prisoners, space was at a premium inside the drop pod. Troopers quickly took their assigned seats and strapped themselves down. If one of the tanks scored a lucky hit that would be far worse than a stranded infantry platoon. Within seconds, the drop pods’ engines were at optimum power. The pilot took Cruwell’s incessant yelling as the signal to lift off. The pilot hit the brake release, allowing the two-story behemoth to raise, the ramp closing as it did.

  “You idiot!” Cruwell yelled as strapped in troopers looked at him with curiosity. “The colonel is still down there!” He ran to the lift which was inside a center vertical tube that went straight up to the flight deck. The lift stopped and he emerged on the flight deck. Two pilots sat at the controls, strapped in. The drop pod was beginning to rattle and shake as it began to reach the upper atmosphere. The blue sky began to give way to the unforgiving reaches of space. One of the pilots looked over his shoulder and saw Cruwell standing there, his fists clenched into balls.

  “Sir, you better strap in! It’s going to get rough!” The pilot yelled as the noise began to get louder.

  “Take this thing back down! You left colonel and some troopers down there!”

  “I can’t sir! The take off sequence can’t be aborted. We will have to send a shuttle down once we dock on the flagship!”

  By now Cruwell could barely stand, the gravitational forces working to squash him into the deck plating. He pulled out a jump seat that was stowed into the wall and sat down. He quickly strapped himself in and looked with awe through the flight deck window into space. He hoped he knew what the colonel was doing down there.

  The colonel glanced up at the sky and saw the drop pod streaking for the atmosphere. He took one last look around and ordered his men into the jungle, ahead of the advancing column.

  “Get your asses in the jungle, men! They will return!” As he shouted the order, several more explosions erupted all over the plateau as all three of the approaching tanks began to fire. At least I hope they will return.

  “A sizable element is approaching ahead of us,” the trooper reported to the colonel as he retreated up the rocky path from the desert, back to the jungle. “Three medium tanks in a wedge formation, plus armored personnel carriers. That incoming seems random, not aimed. I don’t think they have spotted us, sir.”

  The colonel again looked down the plateau that his men currently occupied. Incoming rounds from the tanks still rained down indiscriminately; however, his men were now in the cover of the jungle. Luckily the plants seemed not to care and he hadn’t seen any more beast men since his personal encounter a while back. The aggressors evidently saw no need for surprise. They didn’t seem to be aware they were heading for a fight rather than blasting at defenseless troops. To the colonel’s left, smoke began to pour out of the research laboratory’s breached main doors. Through enhanced mode on his visor display, the colonel observed the reactionary force getting closer and closer. He could not yet determine who the attackers were; there were no military markings displayed anywhere. At the rear of the small armored column, he spotted three armored personnel carriers in dogged pursuit of the tanks, their dark gray armor contrasted with the dull brown of the desert.

  “I thought you two made it out,” the colonel said without looking at Scotts and Matthias. “It may be a while before we are evaced,” the colonel noted. It was less a warning and more the colonel stating the obvious. “Raus might be getting some company up there, and he may have to leave. We will fall back into the jungle if we have to. Their armor won’t be able to follow us inside.”

  “This is news we could have used yesterday, but for what it’s worth, the captured technicians said the forest is a by-product of research on reanimation of dead plant tissues through genetic reconstruction. They started on plants first, then men. Hence your beast man that took a swing at you,” Scotts said.

  “I gave myself quite a chuckle.” The colonel smiled sarcastically and resumed his vigilant observation of the approaching force. “I was almost eaten by a mutated flower.”

  As the colonel was about to turn away from the edge of the plateau to enter the jungle where his men waited, he noticed that the armored column had come to a grinding halt just shy of the plateau’s base, throwing up a huge cloud of dust. The tanks had assumed a single file formation, facing the narrow road leading up to the bunker complex.

  Curious. Who else wants the contents of this facility? He also wondered why there was no air response. The path from the desert was basically a rocky, rubble-strewn trail up the side of the plateau, wide enough to accommodate the medium tanks single file, but the gray beasts chose not to advance. Hatches flew open, and the faint outlines of the tank commanders could be seen conversing and pointing up at the plateau and to some of the boulders on the trail. The pursuing APC’s caught up to their tanks and armed personnel began to dismount from the lowered ramps at the rear. The mechanized infantry then began to take up positions at the base of the road.

  “This is very interesting,” the colonel said as he raised his face shield. A com trooper running up to him interrupted his thoughts. “Sir, Admiral Raus is on the hook.” The com trooper removed a handheld receiver connected to a radio transmitter he carried on his back, the large whip antennae quivering in the wind. The helmet tactical net was unable to reach into space. The colonel took off his helmet and grabbed the receiver.

  “Go ahead, Admiral.”

  “Colonel, your drop pod is on its way here, yet Captain Cruwell informs me you are not board. Am I missing something here?”

  “We got split up and that damned pod lifted off without me a few troopers. We will need an evac.”

  “The Auger-Lord on my ship wants me to leave orbit as soon as the drop pod is recovered. I can stall for a bit, but I cannot guarantee I can get an evac down there. Our scanners are tracking an unidentified craft that is prepping to enter pulse space. The Auger-Lord has indicated to me that this in now priority. Pulse capable craft of that small size are exceedingly rare nowadays. Also of interest is another small craft heading for the planet’s surface. We are letting it go. Perhaps you can use it to get off that rock if all else fails. Whatever is going to happen is going to happen soon I think.”

  “I understand Admiral. Hopefully time will be on our side.” The colonel handed the receiver back to the com trooper. “Sergeant!” he bellowed out.

  “Yes?” Matthias ran over hurriedly, holding his helmet in his left hand.

  “I wonder who else is interested in the contents of this resear
ch facility. A shuttle is also approaching our position.” the colonel said. “Gather weapons and ammunition. We are going to set up an ambush and attack.”

  The orders didn’t need to be repeated. Matthias nodded and left, then began issuing orders to the few troopers that remained. The battle wasn’t over quite yet.

  CHAPTER 7

  The colonel stood with Corporal Scotts at his side. The colonel clutched his helmet under one arm while pointing with the other hand to the ambush spots that had been established. Sergeant Matthias directed the final placement of a short-range plasma cannon that had been retrieved from the interior of the burned out tomb that was once the research facility bunker. The cannon, with its three-man crew, covered the trail.

  Matthias walked to the edge of the plateau and took up a well-concealed position behind a large boulder that still afforded a good look down at the approaching force. He propped his EMR against the boulder beside him and removed his helmet. Rivulets of sweat streamed down his face, with the hot, dry air working hard to evaporate them. The prospect of another intense action didn’t set well with him, but it seemed they stood a fair chance of victory with the advantage of surprise and position.

  “A small infantry force, perhaps three to four squads, is approaching from the road,” Matthias spoke into his wrist communicator to the colonel. “No armor support. The tanks appear to be hanging back at the base of the road, maybe for another bombardment. I deployed our remaining sniper team with the heavy weapons crews at the trail’s edge. The heavy weapons crews will be in effective range momentarily.”

  “Understood,” the colonel replied. “Have the sniper team prepared to cover a retreat into the forest if this blows up in our face.”

  “Yes sir.” Matthias changed the frequency on his wrist communicator and issued the orders to the sniper team leader. By now, the salvaged heavy plasma cannon was set up in a well-concealed position overlooking the road. The crew was busy loading the weapon and stabilizing it on the rocky terrain. Surrounding the weapon were two dug-in squads, each trooper armed with salvaged frag and thermite grenades from the bunker. Spare ammunition magazines and power cells were strewn in front of the hastily dug emplacements within arm’s reach. The remaining squad of five troopers accompanied the colonel. They all held back near the bunker entrance, to be used as reserves.

  “Matthias,” the colonel said to the sergeant at his side, “your men will remain behind the firing line. Replace any man who falls and ensure that the plasma cannon does not run out of power cells.”

  The colonel scanned across his defensive placements with satisfaction, his helmet enhancing points of interest for him. Satisfied that he was in a tenable position, he charged his EMR, and joined Cruwell at the edge of the forest with the sniper team.

  The elderly commander surveyed his mercenary soldiers with contempt and pity, from the hatch of the lead tank. Unlike their commander, most of the soldiers were devoid of feelings of honor and simply plied their skills in service of the highest bidder. The commander detested soldiers who sold out to corporations, but then again who was he kidding? He was a hypocrite, selling himself out years ago lured by the high paychecks. He had seen his share of glorious combat, winning some battles but losing most. He wore a bright yellow scarf around his neck and proudly displayed his rusting military medals on his chest, an absurd gesture to most of the mercs, who didn’t care much about medals. Everyone who lived to fight the next battle received monetary compensation, and that was enough for them. The tradition of the armies they had long served had been lost. The commander was tired, as were most men in this war, but he held onto the flair and passions that had brought him to battle and had, thus far, kept him sane. He knew only how to fight, not how he could possibly assimilate back into society after his commission had expired.

  The mercs were in poor spirits, having been forced to ride in the cramped confines of armored personnel carriers across the desert without opportunity for rest in nearly two days. They’d seen almost nothing of the planet’s surface since being dropped there; they had gone straight from the drop zone into the personnel carriers. Secrecy of the objective had to be maintained, or so they were told by their mysterious client. As the story went, their commander had been approached in the dark, back room of a bar on some forgotten outpost in fringe space with an offer he could not refuse: payment up front, plus equipment, to assemble and run a team. All the team had to do was recover some sensitive items from some whacked out scientists on a fringe planet.

  The objective was in a known pirate sector, but most of the mercs hadn’t operated there before. The war didn’t venture out this far and there was no need to worry about a government presence. Fringe space was filled with war deserters from both sides, trying to make a living working as mercs or pirates. Criminal gangs also operated with impunity in that no man’s land of space. The few commercial ore miners who risked operating in the area invested heavily on private security and sold their cargos to the highest bidder, whether that was a military force or a criminal gang.

  The mission had begun almost the moment the forces arrived on the planet’s surface; they immediately received orders to move out to specified coordinates. That much of the mission was known. Barely an hour after they reached the destination, they received new orders to secure a bunker complex and await further instructions.

  The mercs were as grateful for the fresh air as for the end to the constant jarring inside the personnel carriers. Their commander had received information that the bunker complex had come under full-scale assault from another unknown force but was now abandoned. News of the assault was accurate, but the assumption that the complex was abandoned would prove to be fatal.

  The client was unable to spare any transport aircraft, and the forces were pushed hard the entire way, without adequate reinforcements or supplies. With only three tanks and a small contingent of mercs, the element had to assume that resupply would come from salvaging materials from the complex itself. Upon arriving at the base of the plateau, the mercs had been given orders to proceed ahead of the armor and march up the trail to the complex. The commander almost laughed out loud when he thought about the location of the complex. “A facility located in a forest on a desert planet? That’s not very secret.” A spiral of acrid smoke billowed high above the plateau, carrying a rancid odor. As a show of force, the lead tank fired a few high explosive rounds at the bunker for effect.

  “Sir, what are your orders for the assault?” A young, bearded merc asked the commander, who was leaning out of his tank. The young merc sported an odd, mismatched kit and an impeccably clean uniform. The commander had locked his sights on the rocky outcropping, knowing that now would be the perfect time for an ambush against his forces; however, the road up to the plateau curved, making it impossible to see any further. Across the distance, he could barely see the edge of the forest; it seemed like a solid wall of green. The commander dismounted from his tank with a youthful grace, and dusted off his ancient uniform as soon as his feet hit the ground. He never took his eyes from the target.

  “Take your company ahead and establish a perimeter around the bunker. The client does not want us to enter the bunker. They are sending a specialist team that should arrive soon.”

  “I don’t like this,” the young merc said. “It’s too quiet. It doesn’t make sense. And there’s that damn forest: a forest shouldn’t be here, in this desert climate. At least let me bring up a tank or an APC for support.” The young merc watched nervously as the armored vehicles arranged in a single file before shutting off their engines. The tank crews already were exiting their hatches and finding relatively cool spots to drink precious water and open rations.

  The commander turned and faced the young merc. “Relax. I am sure the bunker is either lightly defended or not at all defended. Either way, secure the perimeter and let your men rest. I am sure they will thank you for it. Anyway, I prefer not to send armor up the trail. It doesn’t look too passable for vehicles.”

&nbs
p; “OK, it’s your show.” The young merc sighed heavily and walked to the front of the formation, now almost halfway up the trail. The rest of the mercs still had their weapons slung over their soldiers. Many were chewing slag root, an herbal opiate that grows wild in the desert. Many pushed up their shirt sleeves, revealing a multitude of skull tattoos and other markings on their arms, typical for galaxian mercs from their sector.

  “Wait for my command!” The colonel barely whispered the order, yet in the tense silence, it was heard without difficulty.

  The approaching infantry column now could be seen from the complex. The area hummed with the quiet sound of energy weapons being charged. Matthias observed that the opposing force apparently thought the bunker abandoned. They approached without caution, an infantry column in full view of the defensive line.

  The colonel’s steady voice crackled over all the helmet radios. “Open fire!”

  The intense initial volley immediately cut down the lead soldiers of the infantry column. Masses of flesh and uniforms were melded together from the intense energy released upon them. The soldiers who were following stood in place, as if in utter disbelief of what was occurring. Some soon tried to run back down the road but were mercilessly cut down. The colonel’s sniper element picked off the rear infantry at will. Within minutes, the approaching force had been eliminated without having fired a shot.

  “We are under attack! We are falling back!” The panicked shout of the young merc into his helmet mike was almost drowned out by the screams of the dying and soon to be dead.

  “You will advance your position until properly relieved,” the commander ordered “It is probably only a rear guard. You are to charge in force.” The commander issued the order from the base of the plateau. The scowl on his face showed more annoyance than displeasure with the news. By now, all of the infantry had been committed unwillingly into the fray. The commander could hear the firing and a few explosions, but he wasn’t overly concerned. Suddenly, silence overtook him. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and from experience he knew something wasn’t right. Rapidly approaching storm clouds partially blocked the remnants of daylight, as did acrid smoke that smelled of burned flesh.