Chaos Tactics (The Reckless Chronicles Book 1)

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Chaos Tactics (The Reckless Chronicles Book 1) Page 10

by Trent Falls


  The war had jaded him. He was now an officer of the line. The war machine that he commanded had put people to death, and would likely yet again.

  “Anything new?” Shin finally asked.

  “Nothing sir.” The ranking officer, an army captain, stood up to face Shin.

  “We’ve tried running the new sequence through the computer and got nothing, sir. It spouted a lot of nonsense.” A lieutenant noted.

  “Do you have the script?” Shin asked.

  “Yes sir.” The lieutenant answered.

  “Read it to me please.” Shin straightened his grey jacket.

  “Sir, I don’t know if….”

  “Lang.” the army captain looked over sharply at the lieutenant. “The captain gave you an order.”

  Lang looked a bit skittishly at Shin. He reached quickly for the printout he had made of the attempted translation of the tabled. “Amorous detective filling harmony unjustified echo vision. Rabbit sky change rate water nation echo fade echo….’

  Shin found himself smirking. “That’s enough lieutenant.” The captain tried not to laugh aloud. “Let me see, please.” He extended his hand.

  The lieutenant handed Shin the printout. Shin read the lines, beyond where he had stopped the lieutenant. It was ten lines of much the same ridiculous wording. The computer had obviously failed.

  “We need a Rosetta Stone.” Shin grumbled.

  “I’m not sure the ancient Greeks made it out this far, sir.” Lang joked.

  Shin chuckled in response. He continued reading. One thing did catch his eye.

  “Rabbit.” Shin handed the lieutenant back the sheet. “That’s an Earth animal. There would be no analog for it in an alien context, especially ten million years ago. Clean it out of the word bank and run the program again. I’m not sure if you’d have better results.”

  “Well find something, sir. I’m sure of it.” The army captain noted confidently.

  “All I need is a direction to be pointed in, captain.” Shin noted. “Keep on it.”

  “Yes sir.” The men responded obediently, continuing their work.

  Shin left the laboratory quietly.

  Phillips, who sat near the outside of the cabin, looked over at Carn. Phillips was chewing gum and had a broad smile on his face. He extended the pack of gum at him.

  “Gum?” Phillips shouted the question at Sergeant Carn over the loud rush of air outside.

  John stared back oddly at Phillips with wide eyes. John pointed to the side of his own helmet silently in response.

  “What?” Phillips shouted back.

  “I can’t hear you!!!!” John again pointed to the side of his helmet, his words barely audible.

  “Oh!” Phillips raised his right hand and toggled the power setting of his com headset beneath his helmet shell. He again extended the gum to his sergeant. “Gum?” his words were clear over the unit LAN.

  Carn looked to his right. Scott Euler, his fellow Sergeant and friend, looked back at him; smirking.

  “No thanks!” Carn shouted back to Phillips, holding his right hand up in a no-thanks gesture.

  There was a sudden rush of wind, climaxing in a deafening and thunderous blast. The unwelcome force of inertia slammed Carn back into his seat. His left hand took a death grip on the pipe framing of his seat; his right hand was firmly clenched on his weapon. Philips screamed as the Kestrel was flung on its side and yawed left, causing the soldier to fall out the side of the aircraft. Bascom’s outstretched right hand was too late to catch and save Philips. Klaxon alarms from the pilot’s cabin cried out desperately.

  “SHIT!” the pilot swore, trying to keep hold of the aircraft.

  It was bedlam. The remaining soldiers were pinned by the centrifugal force. The air smelled of burning oil. A whipping vortex of smoke rushed into the open cabin.

  He couldn’t see! Acrid smoke filled his nostrils and his mouth. The G-forces crushing his body was the only thing that kept the smoke out by pressing down on his chest, making breathing all the more difficult.

  Then it all crashed! Carn was thrown violently out of his chair, only to be jerked back by his safety lanyard restraint. Suddenly everything was dark and he was face down in sand. A leg moved on his back. Someone was on top of him lying in an odd position.

  There was much yelling. “GET THE FUCK OUT!!!” someone yelled. It sounded like the pilot.

  Fuck! Where was his rifle! A Marine was nothing without his M-10! John could barely see. His left arm was free. It flailed, searching for a weapon. Daylight crept in at his peripheral vision but nothing was clear.

  A great weight was lifted off his shoulder and part of his back. Someone was moving behind his back, having their weight pulled off of his. He was able to get up.

  Smoke still billowed in the cabin. John hacked a few times, unable to fully breathe.

  “Come on Carn! Get the fuck out of there!!!” Patrick McCoy was shouting to him from above.

  The persistent screaming continued.

  John looked up and saw McCoy standing in a bright white square looking back down on him. McCoy suddenly jumped away. His shifting weight made the dead fuselage of the downed Kestrel jostle slightly.

  Then he realized where he was. The Kestrel had landed on its side and he was looking up out of what was the starboard-side door only moments earlier. He spun around, seeing that the pilot’s chair had been crushed. The pilot had likely been killed on impact in the heap. Someone was cutting the prone copilot out.

  “Come on, buddy, wake the fuck up!” the rescuer, a much younger David Troy, smacked the prone copilot on the side of his face, trying to stir him to consciousness.

  Someone was still yelling somewhere.

  A great quake rumbled sharply, but briefly, through the ground. It was frighteningly massive.

  “JOHN!” McCoy yelled down to him again.

  John finally got his wits about himself. He got to his feet quickly. His gloved hands reached up to grab the pipe frame of the fabric seating benches. Once finding a decent grip, John hauled himself up to the side of the craft.

  McCoy grabbed the back of Carn’s BDU blouse, helping to haul the Marine the last few feet out of the Kestrel. They stood on what was once the side panel of the craft.

  “Hurry the fuck up with that copilot!” Euler was already out, standing on the ground in a ready position with his M-10.

  John jumped down to the ground. A thick stream of black smoke was streaming up from the back of the Kestrel, caught by a fairly strong wind.

  The Xen would be on top of them soon. Another quake rumbled through the ground.

  “HURRY IT UP, TROY!” Euler yelled.

  There was a ‘pang’ as Troy’s portable cutting saw sliced through the last twisted brace holding the cockpit side door closed. He then retracted the spinning blade and put the tool back in his harness. Troy then cut the copilot’s seat restraints with a knife. The copilot was conscious and helped get himself out of the cockpit.

  John still didn’t know where his M-10 was.

  He then saw one on the ground… with someone’s severed arm still gripping it. It looked somewhat fake, with red streams of flesh sticking out from the end.

  “What the fuck?!?” John shouted.

  “It’s Immel’s.” Euler explained.

  “Where the fuck is the rest of him?!?” John demanded loudly.

  “He’s dead!” Euler shouted back. “He bled out! Grab the gun!”

  “Fuck that!” John yelled back.

  “Grab the fucking gun, John! That’s an order!” Euler yelled back. “There’s a Scorpion damn near on us!”

  John tried to shut off his human sensibilities in his mind and followed the order. He rushed over to grouch beside the arm. The fingers still had a firm grip on the weapon. After a few seconds, John pried the fingers free. He gave the rifle a quick once-over. It seemed okay. The M550 under slung missile launcher was undamaged.

  Troy got the copilot out. The copilot, Lt. Stan Groves, was dusty and bleeding s
omewhere under his left arm, but seemed okay for the most part.

  “Are you alright?” Troy asked Groves loudly.

  “Yeah.” Groves nodded.

  “You got a weapon?” Troy asked him.

  Groves pulled out his GX9, his standard-issue 9mm pistol.

  Troy smirked back at the copilot in somewhat amused disapproval.

  “It’s coming!” Euler yelled, taking a firm grip on his weapon.

  The rumbling in the ground was less intense but remained steady. It slowly grew in magnitude at a rhythmic pace. A dust cloud was being kicked up on the desert horizon. Something very large and metallic, sand brown and grey in color, was at the forefront of the cloud.

  A pair of flashes glinted at the front of the metal object walking at the head of the cloud. The machine appeared to have four long moving legs and a tail. Streams of white smoke trailed out after the flashes.

  “INCOMING!” John yelled.

  A loud whistle grew into a loud shriek. A pair of missiles roared narrowly by overhead, exploding into a deafening burning wrath behind the downed Kestrel.

  “FUCK!” Euler yelled.

  Earth hurled up from the blast that pelted them from above. A small searing hot metal shard bounced off John’s helmet. The surviving soldiers rushed into action.

  “Get behind the Kestrel!” Euler boomed.

  The soldiers rushed to the opposite side of the downed troop transport; all except Private Jim Owens. Owens was still reaching into the overturned hulk of the Kestrel, determined to get a hold of the RM-20 missile launcher secured against one of the bulkheads.

  “Owens! Leave that fucking thing!” Private Bascom yelled at him.

  “I can almost reach it!” Owens yelled back, twisting his arm around a crumpled metal panel of the transport.

  “HERE IT COMES!” Euler yelled out.

  The thick white smoke around the Kestrel was impossible to see through. Visibility fell to about a few feet as more dust was kicked up by the Xen Scorpion. The ground rumbled angrily with each step taken by the massive spider tank. The soldiers could feel one of the legs land solidly with a loud angry thud only a few feet away.

  The smoke drifted off, revealing the scarred metal head of the Scorpion. If the beast could roar it might have done so. The “head” was little more than an elongated cabin, protected on the front and sides by thick metal panels. The panels were parted in a slit along the front and side, allowing the pilot in the spider tank to see out of the cockpit. The EEF Marines could clearly see the Xen soldier inside through the slits, controlling the vehicle. The short gun arms of the beast took aim on the Kestrel wreck and the EEF Marine survivors hiding behind it for cover. The tail of the silver and black beast whipped up above its head. The end of the tail contained a laser cannon and a pair of short-range missiles. Separate missile pods were set on the gun arms.

  The beast was virtually on top of the Marines. More than one EEF Marine swallowed hard, believing that their number was truly up and that they’d be dead in a few painfully brief seconds. John too thought he was about to die.

  “KILL THAT MOTHERFUCKER!!!!” Euler screamed, throwing his upper body up over the top of the Kestrel; aiming his M-10 out on the beast.

  “YEAH!!!” Another voice shouted.

  They were all about to die. All except Owens followed Euler’s lead and took aim on the beast. Their M-10’s cracked loudly in a fury of automatic rifle fire. Euler fired his mini-missile launcher slung under his M-10. The M-550’s missile whistled out and blew up against the side of the Scorpion’s head. There was no effect.

  John’s mind was jolted back to the present. The shower he found himself standing in was running cold. How long had he been there? In the shower? In the war? It was so long ago, but he could still feel the scars. He could still feel the bullets flying past his head.

  John shut off the cold water and got out of the shower. His bathroom was attached to the main bedroom by a wide passage, with one side open to a small walk in closet. He checked the watch on his nightstand. It was 4:15. He walked back to his closet and got dressed quickly in a pair of jeans and a grey t-shirt.

  The light outside John’s room was bright, burning crisply through the sheer black curtains hanging over the sliding glass door to the outside. John put on a pair of sandals and pushed the curtain aside to open the door. It rolled open smoothly, allowing John out into a short balcony where he kept a small table and chair. Tomorrow morning, he thought, he’d get back into the habit of having breakfast out there. With school over, he’d take his time and relax; read the newspaper with a cup of coffee.

  An airship floated by far in the distance. Airships had become a popular mode of travel again in the last few decades or so, especially after the advent of repulse technology. It was no longer a chore for a ground crew to bring in the giant vessels. John stared out to the silver and white structure. It resembled an elongated shark or whale with a narrow tapered snout. He had been on one several times. John guessed the one in the distance was a luxury cruiser; one with a cabin about twice as long as a football field with dining rooms and sightseeing cabins.

  A Kestrel painted in Palm Beach County Sheriff’s Office colors, white and Kelly green, flew slowly by overhead.

  It was a nice day out. No sense ruining it with bad thoughts. All things considered, he was living a pretty good life.

  John walked back inside and shut the sliding glass doors. He kicked off his slippers and walked back into the living room. He could hear music on in Julie’s room. It was a cross of urban beat with loud guitars and some symphonic elements. It was actually pretty good. John guessed his niece and ward was getting ready for her date. He could hear her moving around quickly behind the closed door. He heard the sound of clothes hangers clacking together from her closet.

  John smiled to himself. He remembered what it was like to be young and in high school. He remembered being fresh out of high school in York, PA. Wendy had already been at Rutgers for three years. College, John had decided, wasn’t for him. He wanted to get to space. He wanted to be James Kirk. John remembered how excited he had been when he signed up for the EEF. He remembered that night when he had planned on telling his then girlfriend, Becky Macready, that he would be going to the Marines.

  In the end, Becky didn’t wait for him. She had gone on to the University of Central Florida where she met her husband. She had broken up with him via video letter about three months before the war broke out.

  And there he was. John looked around. Life had turned out to be pretty okay. Sure, he had images in his head that scared the shit out of him, sometimes when he least expected it, but he had come through alright. He had an education. He had a decent job. He lived in a beautiful state with great beaches. He was a dad.

  There was a chime from the door bell. A half second later Julie’s door swung open partially, with the eighteen year old girl sticking her head out to look at her uncle.

  “That’s Dan!” she spoke sharply, looking directly at her uncle. “Please… don’t ride him too hard.”

  John grinned back at his niece. “I’ll be nice, sweetie. I promise.” John said in an even tone.

  “Tell him I’ll be out in a minute.” Julie added.

  “Okay.” John replied, moving towards the door.

  Julie disappeared back behind her bedroom door. John walked the last few paces to the door. He pressed the key on a small rectangular box set into the wall beside the door jamb. The square monitor set at the top of the rectangle powered up, showing a clear image of the other side of the door, overhead and to the left of the entry.

  Sure enough, the teenage boy standing on the other side of the door matched the description of Dan that Julie had given him. John opened the door. The kid on the other side was somewhat tall, about John’s height, with an average build and somewhat shaggy mop-like hair. He seemed dressed decently enough, with tan nylon pants and a plain white gauze polyblend shirt.

  “Hey, Mister Stevens.” Dan extended his hand. “I’m
Dan Hendricks. I’m here to pick up Julie for the concert.”

  ‘Points deduction’, John thought to himself silently as he grinned at Dan getting his name wrong. He extended his hand, being sure to give Dan a firm handshake. The boy seemed to have a decent grip. “Come on in Dan. Make yourself at home.” John led him in. “My last name is actually Carn.” John explained over his shoulder as he led the somewhat nervous boy into the living room.

  “Oh, sorry sir.” Dan replied awkwardly.

  “You can call me John, Dan.” John walked over to their couches. “Please, sit.” John gestured to the other couch set at an angle to him. “Julie should be out in a few minutes.”

  Dan brushed at the thighs of his nylon pants and sat down. He was quiet. He didn’t seem to know what to say.

  “Finally out of school, eh?” John decided to break the ice.

  “Yeah.” Dan replied. “I’m going to go work for my uncle a bit this summer then start FAU in the fall.”

  “That’s good. An education is something that can’t be taken away from you.” John replied. He heard himself speak and disliked that he sounded like an old man. “You got a big family, Dan?”

  “Yeah, a bit.” Dan answered sheepishly. “My parents are still together. I have two brothers and a sister.”

  John was tempted to lay down the law with Dan. Julie was a smart and responsible girl. He liked to think he did a good job raising her in her crucial teenage years. It certainly hadn’t been all that easy. A myriad of thoughts wanted to escape his mouth as words. Don’t bring her home drunk! Treat her like a lady with some respect. And for God sakes don’t bring her home pregnant!!! Julie was her mother’s daughter and had a bright future ahead of her. Don’t fuck that up for your five minutes of glory! The idea of Julie returning home in any of those conditions made John visualize Dan at the bottom of a pit filled with punji sticks. Okay, John thought, perhaps that was a bit too gruesome…

  Instead John grinned back at the kid. “That’s nice.”

  “It’s just the two of you living here?” Dan asked. “There’s no…Misses Carn?”

 

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