by Sonya Noble
“Captain Garn Mckillan,” he responded quickly.
“Why’d you attack me?” she asked.
“I don’t trust people who hide their faces,” Garn said.
“So in other words you thought I was a hostile.” The girl raised her eyebrows.
“Who are you?” Garn asked, furrowing his brow.
The girl hesitated, but only for a split second.
“Trooper zero-one-one-nine-four-six-eight, clone one-one-five-eight,” she said, rattling off the numbers.
“You’re a clone?” Garn said, incredulous.
Everyone thought clones were just mindless, obedient, not-quite-human things grown in test-tubes with superpowers, or scientifically, ultra-accelerated abilities. Like zombies. It also explained the hardness and deathly calm in her voice. She was trained to kill.
“What were you expecting, a zombie?” the girl asked, as if reading his mind and matching his tone.
Garn studied the clone girl. Brown hair and eyes, short, skinny, light skin. Not much really ‘stuck out’ about her except maybe her long hair, but something about her stance and the fire in her eyes showed that there was definitely something different about her. It almost made her attractive, but the rocket launcher put a slight damper on that thought.
“I was sent to investigate a distress call,” the clone said, back to business.
“That was me,” Garn said. “And if you lower your weapon I promise not to knock you out again.”
The clone bit the side of her mouth, probably to keep from saying something she’d regret and lowered her gun, but never let go of it, ready for anything. Like a betrayal.
“I’ll take you back to base,” she said, then hesitantly saluted him and added, “Captain.”
“Call me Garn,” he said, following the clone girl.
She scooped up her helmet and led him to a bush and pulled out a small hover-scooter.
The girl twisted her hair around her hand, shoved some pins in it to keep it up, and slapped her helmet back on, hopping on her ride as she did so. The whole process took about thirty seconds.
Garn stared at the girl, who shrugged as if to say, "I have to do this all the time."
“Guess you’d better hold on tight,” she said as Garn got on behind. He hesitantly looked around for some sort of handle. The clone girl floored the gas peddle and he found himself in a bush.
“HEY!” he yelled.
“Oops, sorry,” the girl said, unapologetically, as she swung the scooter around back to him. “You should hold on tighter.”
“To what?!”
She was quiet for a moment then shrugged. “I have a cable attached.”
Garn wasn’t sure if the girl was joking or not as he clambered onto the scooter. He placed his hands on her shoulders and braced himself for a bumpy ride. Garn knew that if he could see the clone's face she'd be grinning.
***
After the boy had suffered a few bumps and bruises after falling off five more times due to Pariah’s suicidal driving, she finally took pity on him and eased up on the gas.
When they finally arrived at the base after three hours of bumpy driving (which normally took twice as long for a safer-driver) the young captain collapsed on the ground and kissed it.
“Next time I’ll take something bigger when I come to rescue you,” Pariah said, pulling off her helmet.
“I. Am. Not! Getting. Up,” the captain said.
“You insulting my superior driving skills?” Pariah asked.
“No, I’m just never, ever, ever riding with you again.” Garn’s answer was muffled due to the fact that he was face down on the ground. "Even if you're the only person available, I will walk over deserts and mountains and swim oceans before I ride with you again!"
Pariah rolled her eyes and started dragging Garn over the ground by his ankles.
“You might want to think about laying off the burgers,” Pariah said, pretending to grunt as she pulled him into the locker room.
“Wounded?” Cortez asked, quickly running in with a team of nurses.
“Not quite wounded, but definitely a bit battered by someone’s driving,” Garn said as Pariah let go of him.
Pariah snorted. “Just a bit?”
“Yes, trooper, good work. Are you suicidal?” Garn asked, wincing as one of the nurses started poking and prodding him.
Pariah threw her head back and laughed but was suddenly cut off as two girls ran in and pounced on her.
“Whoa, down doggie!” Pariah jokingly protested.
“Where you been, Pariah?” Anaconda asked.
“Attempting to rescue this dude,” Pariah answered. “Unfortunately he didn’t expect a welcome party of one. Never thought I’d see the day a guy would actually knock me out.”
“I thought it was my charm and good looks,” Garn joked.
“He kicked your butt?”
“I’d rather not relive my life’s biggest humiliation, Hawk,” Pariah interrupted.
“So, wait, you’re all clones, but you have names?” Garn asked.
“Duh, it’s hard enough to memorize your own numbers without having to memorize everyone else’s,” Anaconda said.
“Why’re you called Pariah?” he asked, turning to Pariah.
“She used to be an outcast,” Hawk answered for her.
“Yep, but not anymore since I‘ve been adopted by Zeta!” Pariah said, grinning from ear to ear.
Garn’s whole perspective of clones changed that day. They definitely had minds of their own and they could surprise you at any moment.
Chapter 6:Deployed
All of Zeta Squad checked their weapons and body armor for the millionth time as they got ready to board the small, one-roomed ship that resembled a miniature version of a great blue whale, only forest-green. It was called a Stratus, but the nickname for it was “Fatso the Whale”.
For this mission, instead of the green body armor that Pariah had used, they had black, close-fitting body armor that was lighter and surprisingly more durable. A black bodysuit that could sustain a tank’s ammunition, a black 'skirt' that went down to the knees held extra ammo, grenades, med kits, and added a bit of extra armor. A belt that held up the skirt held more grenades, two pistols, and ammo for the pistols. They held their assault rifles or bigger weapons (rocket launchers, machine guns, flamethrowers, etc.) on their backs. Their helmets were full-faced and neural implants from the augmentations enabled them to control most of the suits functions with their brains. There was a communications device, night-vision, V/S, and, as a last resort, a self-destruct sequence.
“No man left behind,” Hope said, trying to shake off the pre-mission jitters. No matter how many missions you go on, you still get the same feelings of nervousness and a mix of fear and anticipation before the next one. Would anyone be wounded? Would anyone desert? And the most unsettling question going through every girl’s mind: Would everyone come back alive?
“Aw, I was looking forward to throwing the Lieutenant out of the Stratus!” Tigress said, pouting.
The squad shared a long, hard laugh.
“Looks like you’d better get in line, Tigress,” Peace laughed.
“I’ve never been one to wait in line,” Tigress answered, mischievously.
“Especially the lunch line,” Pariah muttered, sending the squad into another round of laughter.
"What about us? We're women, not men!" Angel joked.
"No person left behind," Hope said, rolling her eyes in mock-aggravation.
“Zeta Squad.”
All the girls snapped to attention as General Whitaker addressed them.
“There was a last-minute transfer to your team,” Whitaker said. “Meet Captain Mckillan.”
Pariah, Anaconda, and Hawk exchanged a wide-eyed smiling glance as Garn came into the armory, dressed in full body-armor, his helmet tucked under his arm.
“Hi,” was all he said with a smile.
“Four rules,” Hope said.
“Keep your hands
off of us,” Peace said.
“Your hands off our food,” Angel said, smiling mischievously.
"If you want an answer from any of us then don't talk to us until we've had our coffee in the morning," Hawk added.
“And don’t touch Pariah,” Tison said, entering the room. He put on his helmet and nodded at Pariah.
“Why?” Garn asked.
“She. Will. Hurt. You,” Tison answered, slowly, patting his back. It was still slightly sore from the last time she’d thrown him. You’d think he would’ve learned by now!
Pariah couldn’t keep the grin off her face as they boarded the Stratus plane.
***
Garn and Tison stared as the girls in front of them laughed and talked like, well, normal girls, and not soldiers about to go off on a mission where some people might not come back.
The girls put their helmets on and even though Garn couldn’t hear what they were saying, they were definitely laughing about something.
Suddenly the girls doubled over and clutched their stomachs, shoulders shaking.
“What’s wrong?” Garn asked, frantically jumping up. Tison jumped up too, also alarmed.
One girl, Garn couldn’t tell who due to the identical body armor, tapped her helmet covertly as she struggled to stand.
Garn pulled his helmet on and nearly pulled it off as the shrieks of laughter nearly made his eardrums explode.
“Tigress, you’re horrible!” one girl gasped.
“Horribly funny!” another girl shrieked.
“Just speakin’ my mind,” another girl said. “Now pipe down, I’m trying to drive!”
“What?!” Garn asked.
The comm channel went deathly silent.
“We were, uh, talking about, um, Tison,” one girl said, timidly.
“Oh, girl stuff, huh?” Garn asked.
The comm erupted in laughter again.
“Not quite, unless plotting to throw him off the carrier counts as ’girl stuff’!” Pariah said as she pulled off her helmet. The other girls followed suit.
“Can I help?” Garn asked, talking his helmet off a too.
“With what?” Tison asked.
“Nothing!” they all said, quickly. The girls sat back in their chairs and buckled their crash-webbing over their chests and wiped tears of mirth from their eyes.
***
“Whoo-whee! This is a bit more intense than the sim!” Pariah yelled, reloading her battle rifle.
“Next time I get the machine gun!” Peace yelled over the comm channel.
“What are these things?” Pariah shouted, taking aim at what looked like a big pile of purple/green fungus and shooting it down.
“Remember the top secret eye's only thing we wouldn't tell you about? Well, these things are it. Mutating fungus,” Hope said. “Some things need to be left alone!”
They’d been fighting the fungus things for two days now, and there seemed to be no end to them.
“Can the chatter,” Tison said. “Focus on the mission!”
Their ‘mission’ was to blow a lab sky high and evacuate any personnel from the facility. Whichever came first.
“I’m going for the building!” Pariah yelled. “Peace, Angel, cover my backside!”
Pariah ran, throwing a fragmentation grenade, or a ‘frag grenade’, at a pile of gathering fungus.
She reached the building and gunned down the big hulking fungus guarding the entryway.
“Yo, Hawk, everything clear?”
“Yup, now go plant those charges!”
Pariah tread cautiously, senses alert and ready for a surprise attack. What she got was a billion times worse.
As she passed a room she heard a sharp scream that was quickly cut off. Pariah ran into the room, ready to kill something. She was suddenly frozen with horror.
There was a woman, clutching a bundle, dead. She was being eaten, no, absorbed into a huge fungus. Pariah quickly shot it down and pulled the woman away. The woman was just as dead as she looked. But she was still clutching a blanket.
“Guys, get in here!" Pariah yelled.
“Negative, trooper, that is not possible!" Tison yelled. She heard him grunt as he killed another fungus.
Pariah pressed her lips together and unpacked the charges. She slipped them into a bag and carefully squished the baby into the pack on her back.
She made her way to plant the charges and set them for ten minutes, enough time for her and her team to pull out.
There was a small whimper and Pariah pulled the baby out of her pack and held her tight. Then she ran.
Pariah met up with more fungus, but they weren’t after her. They seemed to want the baby, because they were reaching for Pariah’s arms.
“You can’t have her!” she screamed, shooting them down with her sidearm and running out of the building like a charging bull.
“Pull out!” Tison ordered. Everyone shot behind them to cover their escape route.
They went to the rendezvous point and waited for extraction. A distant boom! rang out from what was now the charred remains of the laboratory.
Something wriggled in Pariah’s arms and everyone jumped and trained their weapons on Pariah when a baby cooed and gurgled.
“Pariah, is there something you want to tell us?” Dreamer asked.
“Man, you held it really well!” Peace joked.
“Shut up, rescued the kid before a fungus ate her mom,” Pariah said, shuddering at the memory that would probably haunt her for the rest of her life.
“They ate her mom?!”
“Ew,” Shiloh said.
“That’s what you were yelling about over the comm,” Garn guessed.
“They wanted her,” Pariah whispered in horror.
“Pick-up’s here,” Hawk said as the Stratus came roaring into view.
“Finally,” Tison said.
Chapter 7: Free Time
“So, what exactly is the story on the fungus?” Pariah asked.
“An idiot wanted to experiment on making a sentient plant, hoping that maybe he’d be able to figure out some way to stop world hunger,” Hope said, rolling her eyes.
“It’s a good cause, but it was destined to fail,” Dreamer sighed.
“Sentient plant? I heard everything else but that small detail. Please explain,” Tison ordered, a puzzled expression on his face.
“Okay, so he experimented on some people who were going to die of hunger anyway, turning them into fungus. You still with me?” Hawk said, stopping.
“And the experiment got out of control,” Pariah guessed.
“Yep. The finished creations were rabid-like and ate everyone in sight and started reproducing,” Hope finished.
“Oh, how nice,” Shiloh added from the front, sarcastically.
“What’re we gonna do with the baby?” Peace cut in.
“Yeah, we can’t exactly bring it back with us,” Angel pointed out.
They threw around some ideas for a while and Garn went to go see where they were by looking out the cockpit’s windows. His eyes widened.
“I’ve got it!” he said excitedly. “My sister takes in kids from the streets and she lives really close by!”
“You want me to take a detour?” Shiloh asked from the pilot’s seat.
“Yes,” Pariah said.
“Okay, give me the coordinates.”
Garn gave Shiloh directions and they were at a farm house in less than five minutes. There were fields of grain all around the place and children up to the age of twelve running around the spacious yard.
Garn and Pariah exited the plane, Pariah still carrying the baby. She tossed her helmet back into the Stratus and followed Garn to the house.
“Hello, anybody home?” he called.
“Garn?” A girl with the same eyes and hair color that Garn had opened the door. She was only a little shorter than him, which also made her still taller than Pariah.
“Is this your girlfriend?” she asked.
Pariah’s cheeks turned brig
ht red.
“No! She’s just a friend, part of my team,” Garn said, quickly. “Would you do me a huge favor?”
“Depends,” the girl said.
“Could you take this baby in? I found her on the battlefield and her mom’s dead,” Pariah said, showing Garn's sister the baby.
“Yes! Of course!” Pariah handed the tiny figure to the young woman who gasped and cooed over the child.
“We’ve got to go, now,” Garn said. “Thanks, Lara!”
“Anytime, bro!” Lara said, shutting the door as they left.
***
“Good work, squad. You make a pretty good team,” General Whitaker said. “Dismissed!”
“Yes! Free time!” Tigress said, pumping her fists in the air.
“Is she always like this after a mission?” Pariah asked.
“No,” Hope laughed.
“She usually falls asleep during the General’s long debriefing,” Angel said, giggling.
“So, what do you usually do during ’free time’?” Pariah asked.
“Anything. Stay up till six a.m.,” Hope said.
“Sleep,” Peace replied, rubbing her eyes.
“Hit the gym,” Anaconda said.
“Read,” Shiloh said.
“Video games,” Angel said.
“Violent video games,” Peace added with a gleam in her eye.
“Beat up your commanding officers,” Hawk said, grinning.
“Sing about random stuff, making up the words as you go,” Dreamer said.
“Wow. You have full free time, huh?” Pariah laughed.
“I’m going to bed,” Hope announced.
“Video game, anyone?” Peace, Angel, and Tigress left their circle.
“I’m going to grab the Lieutenant and do some ‘basic training‘,” Hawk said.
“Wait for me!” Dreamer called, running to catch up.
“Gym?” Anaconda asked.
“Sure, why not?” Pariah walked with Anaconda to the huge multi-complex gym.
Pariah went to lift 2000 lbs. above her head and Anaconda headed to the exer-bikes.
Some boys saw Pariah walking over and started working harder.
“Two-thousand pound weight, here I come,” Pariah muttered, loud enough for the boys to hear. They all turned and stared as she keyed in the amount of weight she wanted to lift into the side.
“Only two-thousand? I could lift three-thousand per arm," Garn said as he walked over.
“This is just for relaxation. Tell me, was that a challenge?” Pariah asked, casually bench-pressing the weight stick above her chest.
“Maybe,” Garn said, starting to do pushups on a mat close by.