War Dogs

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War Dogs Page 3

by Jan Domagala


  “What about Garrison’s superiors on Genotia, won’t they have come to the same conclusion?” asked Gina.

  “We can assume they have or will pretty soon and that’s why this mission is time sensitive. We have to get there before this breaks out. We have to contain this, this is what we do, okay?” Jake said looking at them all.

  “Is that all?” he asked after a short pause. All he received was stares and quick nods of heads.

  “Okay, I’ll ask the question no one seems to want to ask,” Joe said.

  Jake looked at him and nodded his approval.

  “Why should we even get involved in this? This is a Genotian issue on Genotian territory concerning Genotian citizens, why would we even bother to intervene; why not let them handle it on their own?”

  “That is a good point and if we go in we will probably tread on a few toes, that’s a given. Sinclair is using the fact that the station is still our property and we are acting to protect said property. It’s a slim line we’ll be treading but Sinclair is also confident we can get the job done where the Genotians can’t,” Jake replied.

  “Just had to ask boss,” Joe said a little sheepishly.

  “I’d have been surprised if no one had asked. Guys this is what the Wildfire Initiative was set up to combat. If Baxter’s fears have any foundation then if we don’t find what this is and stop it there could be repercussions that spread through the Confederation.”

  That got nods all around from them.

  “Okay, let’s do this. Artie make the jump to Genotia, the rest of you I suggest you get ready. I don’t want any surprises so take everything with you, complete battle gear. We go loaded for war.”

  This changed their expressions, his words acted like a switch in them. Instantly any gripes they may have had were forgotten. They had their game faces on. Now it was time to go to work.

  II

  Genotia

  The Pulsar came out of hyperspace as close to Genotia as was possible.

  Jake and the team had assembled on the bridge once more ready to move to the station when within range.

  “Artie, please scan the station,” Jake said. He was dressed in full combat gear of blast-resistant Kevlon. Across his chest was a holster that held the standard sidearm, the Sig P999, on his webbing belt there were several pouches containing spare battery clips for the pistol and grenades. On his left forearm was strapped a K-Bar combat knife. In a rack against the wall were several Remm Mk M25 assault rifles.

  “Structural integrity of the station is intact, sir,” the ship’s AI said, the simulated voice booming out from the integral speakers.

  “What about life forms, are there any present?”

  “I have several bio signs, sir.”

  “What about the station personnel, are any of them present?”

  “It is hard to say, sir, the signal is distorted.”

  “In what way Artie?” Joe asked

  “Define ‘distorted’, Artie,” Jake asked.

  “I am getting human bio signs but the readings are accelerated, similar to yours, sir, but at a much higher level, a dangerously high level.”

  Jake looked at the rest of the team as worried glances were passed from one to the other. “What do you mean, dangerously high?” he finally asked.

  “Their bio signs are reading so high they are in danger of burning out, and yet there seems no indication of that. It is almost like they have an endless power source, or that it is regenerating as they use up what they have.”

  “How many signs, Artie, be specific?” Joe asked.

  “I have six clear bio signs, sir. My sensor scans also reveal several inert bio masses,” the AI replied.

  “Wait, you said five a moment ago,” Gina said picking up on the discrepancy.

  “That is true, Miss, what I meant was that there are five reading almost at the burn out point and one more, also at a high level but this one seems to be more in control. I cannot explain in any greater detail I am afraid but this other one is different in some way and until I can get a clearer reading I will be unable to give you anything more than that, I apologise.”

  “No need to apologise, Artie,” Jake said.

  “Inert bio masses, do you mean dead bodies?” Joe asked.

  “By the shape, density and composition of the bio masses I would have to concur with that hypothesis, sir, they could indeed be dead bodies.”

  They were all a little shocked at the emotionless response, they had grown to know Artie as one of their crew and because of this they sometimes forgot he was an artificial intelligence, the most advanced computer in the Confederation but a computer nonetheless.

  Worried looks passed around the group as they learned more of the situation they were about to get into.

  “Okay, Artie, I want regular updates on the location of these six bio signs while we’re inside the station. I want to know the second they move is that clear?” Jake said.

  “Perfectly, sir. I failed to add that the sixth bio sign is not in the same location as the others, sir” the AI replied.

  Jake glanced at his team, clearly this was significant, maybe this other person was someone they could work with and perhaps give them a better understanding of what had happened, so he came to a decision.

  Jake faced the team, “I think whoever this is could have the answers we need. We need to find them, this is our new priority.” He paused briefly then added, “Artie please relay this other bio sign’s location to our NIs.”

  “Well, that’s it then,” he said looking at his friends one by one, “it looks like we’re going in.”

  Joe, Mack and Gina, all dressed in the same combat gear as Jake and armed similarly, picked up their Rapier battle helmets and stood ready.

  “Will we need environment suits or breathers of any kind on the station, Artie?” Joe asked as he placed his helmet on his head. The faceplate was up leaving his face free.

  “The atmosphere checks out, sir, and there is no sign of any airborne contaminant that I can detect.”

  “So is that a ‘no’ or a ‘maybe’?” Mack probed.

  “I think we’ll be fine, Artie has the most extensive database of deadly pathogens available so if he can’t detect anything you can be pretty sure it’s not there,” Jake said.

  He placed his own helmet on his head then said, “Okay Artie, move us to within docking range. Locate the nearest docking bay and latch on.”

  “Copy that, sir, moving in,” replied the AI.

  Jake watched through the forward viewscreen as the Pulsar moved closer to the station. He could see quite clearly the central hub that housed the Command and Control centre on the top deck; the other three decks had various other sections for purposes specific to that station, the lower deck was always engineering. This was surrounded by a ring of habitats attached to the hub by struts that were also walkways so that the personnel could travel from the habitat to the hub. Spaced between every four habitats was a larger section, these were the docking bays. A hatch faced away from the station and was where the approaching craft attached to the station through docking clamps at the side of the hatch. Once the docking was complete the series of hatches opened allowing travel from the ship to the station. The bay was larger than the normal habitats, the size of a football field so they could accommodate any cargo brought onto the station.

  The station was huge, the largest of all the research stations, a city in space orbiting the planet.

  Once the docking was complete Jake said, “Okay Artie, open the outer hatch.” He turned to the others and said, “Stay alert, I don’t want any surprises.”

  The others gave him a collective nod and they all moved towards the hatch and the station beyond.

  5

  I

  Research Station Nine

  Major Alex Thorn paced the room he had locked himself in. He desperately tried to get his anger under control. He could not, would not allow his anger to control him like the others had. Control was perhaps the wrong wor
d – consume was a more appropriate term – for they seemed to have been taken over completely until there was nothing left of the original person, rather than they controlling it.

  He was the leader of the War Dogs, the squad of soldiers, Marines all of them, who had volunteered to help fight the Separatists in the civil war. They had won that war by sheer attrition; they had fought battles no one thought could be won. Once the Separatists saw the sheer ferocity the War Dogs exhibited, their taste for battle soon waned. They had won because their fight or flight response had been changed so that when faced with any threat there could only be one response, to fight. Now the war was over what could be done with a group of soldiers whose only response to any threat whether it be actual or only perceived was to fight and fight until the threat was eradicated?

  He soon realised they could no longer be introduced back into the general population of the planet for fear of hurting innocent lives. Garrison, the brains behind the War Dogs program, came up with a plan to alter them back to how they had been. All the War Dogs were ordered to Research Station Nine to participate in some tests. Their programming forbade them from disobeying a direct order so they all complied. The tests began and that was when it all went horribly wrong.

  He was the only one left alive now who hadn’t undergone the new round of tests. Yes, he was still a slave to his ‘fight or flight’ response that had been altered, but he was learning to control it more. The others had undergone tests that Doctor Garrison had implemented to try and reverse the effects of the serum.

  Five of their number had been the first to be subjected to a new serum. This was hoped to reverse the effects by bringing the ‘fight or flight’ response back to normal. Initially it had been altered so that any threat the War Dogs faced was met by a ‘fight’ response, a response that was boosted to berserker levels.

  The serum boosted the flood of hormones released by the brain so that not only aggression was heightened but also other senses and abilities such as strength, sight and hearing. To bring this response back to normal this new serum needed to negate the effects of the previous serum, block its effects, but something went wrong and the two serums acted in tandem boosting each of their effects to dangerous levels. The five subjects were actually transformed, mutated into something not quite human. They had gone berserk and killed everyone on the station except him. He had managed to evade them before his instinct took over and he was compelled to fight, something he had been working on, to be able to control his response would mean there was no need for experiments such as this one.

  For the first time since the civil war ended he had a purpose again. He had someone to fight once more. He just had to figure out a way to win without it being a suicide mission.

  He was logged into the station’s computer via his NI so he could keep tabs on the five remaining test subjects; he had trouble now thinking of them as his friends of old. To him they were monsters and he would have to continue that train of thought if he wanted to survive this. He would have to fight them and ultimately kill them and for that to happen he could not think of them as friends.

  He was alerted to a ship approaching by the station’s sensors giving a proximity alert. He used the sensors to gain as much information of the craft as he could. If it were a civilian vessel he would have to warn them, but if it was a military craft perhaps they were here to help.

  It was not like any craft he was familiar with and it was definitely military, the sensors had picked up its impressive arsenal of weapons. If it was not from Genotia then where was it from, he wondered? He knew he had to take a chance and contact whoever was in that ship to let them know just what they were up against.

  Accessing a secure comm channel via his NI he said, “Ahoy approaching craft, this is Major Thorn of the Genotian Home Guard. You need to be aware of the danger in here.”

  “We are about to enter, we have bio signs of five other figures. I take it you mean they are the danger?” a voice said in his ear.

  “Yes, but you have no idea what you’re facing. I’ll meet you when you enter to brief you.”

  Alex opened the door to his room and left.

  II

  Genotia

  General Matthias looked out over the men paraded before him, the pride of the Home Guard. These were the Special Forces, the elite of the Genotian military and the men who fought in the civil war against the Separatists.

  Of course the conflict could not have been won without Doctor Garrison’s intervention with the serum, for the two sides had been too evenly matched. None of it would have been possible without that serum that had produced the War Dogs, that squad of men, volunteers from the Home Guard who had turned the tide, finally giving them the victory in the decisive battle. The War Dogs though had proven too aggressive to integrate back into society and he had to make the hardest decision in his thirty-odd year career, to hunt down and exterminate the men they all owed their freedom to. All but the last six had been eradicated in a planet-wide manhunt until Garrison had pleaded with him for their lives. They had been cornered and were about to be attacked when Garrison had persuaded Matthias to hold fire against them so he could at least attempt something. Garrison had pleaded to let him try to reverse the effects of the serum, something he had been working on since he had seen the adverse effects take hold. Matthias had reluctantly agreed but it had all depended upon if he could get through to their leader, Major Alex Thorn, to persuade his men to undergo the tests required.

  Thorn was a remarkable man, the consummate soldier and the most in control of all the War Dogs. Somehow he had managed to get through to the last five of his squad and they had complied.

  Matthias had remembered it well, the relief he had felt in being able to rescind the order to open fire on men they all owed so much, was a joy. Now though he was getting slightly worried. He had not heard from the station in at least a day. Garrison had been allowed to proceed with his plan on the condition that he gave regular updates on his progress.

  Turning away from the parade ground below the balcony where he stood outside his office he contacted the Communications Centre.

  “What’s the latest report from Garrison on Research Station Nine?” he said once the call was connected via his NI.

  “Sir, all comm channels are down to the station, we’ve not been able to connect for the last thirteen hours,” replied the voice from the Communication Centre.

  “Okay, inform me the moment you regain contact,” Matthias said then broke the contact. He thought about what he’d just heard and felt his skin go cold. What if something had gone wrong, what if the War Dogs had gone rogue?

  He made a decision, the only one he thought he could under the circumstances, and accessed a secure comm channel.

  “Colonel, it seems we have a problem,” he said once the connection was made.

  6

  I

  Research Station Nine

  Jake led the team through the hatch into the station.

  “Okay team, we know where Major Thorn is, let’s go meet him,” he said.

  Leading them away from the docking hatch they all moved towards the other end of the docking bay. It was huge, stretching out before them. There were huge vehicles similar to ground haulers against one wall with other smaller vehicles littering the floor area. It took them a while to cross the distance between the entrance hatch and their destination as they kept a slow pace, continually sweeping the area with their pulse rifles as a security precaution.

  Jake held up his right hand balled into a fist to halt their progress. Using hand signals he pointed to either side of the large door and they spread out, Mack and Joe to the right of the door and Gina joined him on the opposite side. A nod of his head told Joe to open the door.

  They all held their rifles up at their shoulders ready to fire the moment a target presented itself but the corridor facing them was empty.

  Using hand signals Jake told them to move forward into the corridor. They knew that Thorn was coming t
o meet them so they planned to meet him half way, avoiding the other life forms that Artie had informed them of.

  “Captain Riley, one of the life forms has moved away from the rest and is on the move in your direction,” Artie said. The team were connected directly with the AI on the Pulsar so they could communicate with it, receive continual updates and also access the sensors.

  “How soon before it reaches us?” Jake asked. The other members of the team had heard the report from Artie and were listening intently for his reply.

  “At its present rate of speed, I would estimate around three minutes.”

  “That’s not like you Artie, to be unspecific,” Joe commented.

  “The life form’s gait is fast yet meandering so it is difficult for me to get an accurate time of arrival, sir, I do apologise,” the AI replied.

  “No apologies necessary, Artie,” Jake told him. To the others he said, “Right, let’s move, three minutes to cover that distance means it’s moving incredibly fast.”

  They set off at a fast jog keeping their pulse rifles tight against their shoulders ready to fire at anything that got in their way.

  “Jake, the life form has increased its pace, it will catch up to you in less than thirty seconds,” Artie said which brought all of them up short.

  Jake turned to look in the direction they had come and signalled for the team to form up in a line across the corridor.

  “Get ready guys, let’s see what they’ve got,” Jake said. He gritted his teeth as he steeled himself for the coming conflict.

  The sound of huge footfalls pounding the deck assailed their ears.

  Jake glanced at his teammates to see if they would falter and saw they all had their game faces on. They would stand fast, of that he was certain.

  In that moment he turned to look down the corridor and saw a hulking brute stamping towards them at an incredible pace. It was humanoid in shape but was over seven feet tall. Whatever clothes he had been wearing were now in tatters, mere shreds having been ripped as whatever this thing had been transformed into now faced them aggressively.

 

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