Tattoos & Rail Guns Chapter 13: You May As Well As Be In The Army Now!

The next day began at dawn. Since the squad was not assigned to a mission outside the fort, today would start as a regular day. This meant an hour of exercise in the morning. Fortunately, it was a light day for the squad, consisting of little more than push-ups and sit-ups followed by a short two-mile run.

Well, easy unless you were Douglas. The PT session used all sorts of muscles he was not used to using, making him sore all over and barely able to stand. By the time they hit the showers, he was ready to run, er...walk, er...crawl very slowly but deliberately to the mountains from whence he came. He almost fell asleep while scrubbing down. This was definitely one for the negatives column.

After a quick shower and a long breakfast, they began cleaning all of their equipment. This was not a mere field cleaning meant to eliminate the larger obstructions from the weapons but a thorough scrubbing. The guys had already done their laundry the night before so at least that was out of the way, but their weapons and vehicles were a different story. The vehicles were first, and there was a quick dispute from another platoon over who would get the last car rack, but some quick talking from Samuels got them on it. The Chipmunk Killers would get the rack and the Rough Rhinos could take their place in line; it was a hard bargain, but worth it.

Scrubbing down the large weapons was a little more fun. The limited number of troops forced the individual squads to clean the weapons. The cannons required a lift to clean properly, as well as a specialized cleaning kit, both privates, and Douglas to clean them. Between the morning exercise and the thorough vehicle and equipment cleaning, Douglas was in sorry shape by lunch. He was barely able to stay awake through lunch. Samuels and Walker smiled as they took turns poking him to ensure that he was alive; an older wizard, lacking the energy of youth, would have been unconscious hours ago.

Sergeant Rodriguez caught up with his troops. He walked up to the two enlisted and the nearly dead wizard and sat down. “I have a special mission for you guys, and it will take you into some very scary territory.” The two looked at each other as their combined brainpower put together three facts (Rodriguez using his official voice, coming into the mess without grabbing food, the words “special” and “scary”) and that resulted in a very wary look at their platoon sergeant as they realized where they were heading after lunch. The corporal decided to speak first.

“Sergeant , not the quartermaster.....!”

Rodriguez smiled. “Yes, Samuels, the quartermaster. Young Douglas is about to experience that very special moment in a boy's life when he gets his first loadout from the quartermaster and gets a 'treat it carefully' speech second only to a very concerned father of a youngest daughter.” He handed him a two-page requisition form. “It has been decided to make sure Youn Douglas has access to all of the equipment he will need for his duties here. As he doesn't have his own weapon YET he can use the time you two are cleaning your weapons to clean his new equipment.”

He handed him the papers. “You are also to take him to the PX and obtain for him the remainder of items on the list. Even if he decided to cut and run by the end of the week, the lieutenant wants him to at least look like a soldier for a day or two. The items on the list will help in that particular disguise. Also, PFC Walker, you will be overjoyed to learn that includes PT gear as well.” Walker smiled. “However, should we find that anything has been purchased that was not on our list, you will pay dearly for it. Am I clear?”

“Crystal, sergeant.”

“Outstanding, gentlemen. Have a good day.” Rodriguez left to go get his own lunch. The two finished up their lunch and virtually dragged their charge out of the mess as they started their mission. Douglas was too tired to really know what was going on; he would soon be forced awake.

* * * * *

Lieutenant Sawyer debated yet again going native and never coming back. Just as quickly she decided also yet again that she would miss coffee too much. The thing she hated the most about dealing with Kev, also known as “her new assignment”, was that she had to fill out paperwork on not only the usual assignments but also every last interaction between her and the Kev. She had fought for the assignment to a scavenger brigade specifically because it would allow more opportunities to go out and avoid paperwork, not test exactly what a magical ring could do. Now that they knew it could summon a tattooed warrior, combat missions and the applicable paperwork would only increase just to see what Kev could do.

The addition of Douglas had only complicated things. While he had been a known contact prior, those who had contacted him had only seen him as a teenager with access to some strange list of abilities scrapping by; even after four years of seeing what havoc the demons could wreak, the power of magic was still virtually unknown so not believing that a person having the ability to wield it made sense. Combined with the apparent rarity of the talent and that it only worked in the zones, that disbelief made some sense. However, that was likely to change, especially if they could find others with the talent.

Nonetheless, that meant that the paperwork would only likely increase. All of a sudden disappearing into the lands surrounding the base was sounding rather attractive.

Her tablet beeped at her with yet another email from General Martins. Almost routinely she hit the ACCEPT button expecting another testing request; the general seemed to have found a new obsession with seeing what Kev and/or Douglas could do. Of course, having personally seen what they could do to the Kronus she could understand the obsession. She saw what was in the message, and it grabbed her attention: The squad had a new mission and this would need to be dealt with immediately.

“Hey, Jules; we have a new mission and we need to decide how to deal with it.”

Lieutenant Prowse was bored out her head; as she would welcome a distraction, she walked over to the other desk. “Something besides another farm? Or did they find a village for us?”

“Oh, it was a village.”

Lieutenant Prowse cocked her head. As Lieutenant Sawyer showed her the pictures of the village, her hand became a fist, and that fist became whiter every second. A few hours from the base had been the village of Podmark, a settlement of refugees from surrounding farms that didn't quite want to surrender to the military life just yet. A few hours ago, Fort Solace had received an SOS from the village and a drone was sent out to investigate.

By the time the drone had arrived, the village had been wiped from the face of the earth.

Something huge had gone through the village and utterly destroyed it. It wasn't just random: Every building was destroyed, smoking piles of wood left to burn itself out. Humans and livestock had been slain, bodies were torn in half, and left to rot. Even gardens had not escaped the attention of the attacker, as the plants had been smashed or torn from their plots. Everything else had been broken, ripped open, or simply smashed; there was virtually nothing left standing, let alone alive, in the village.

The tracks that had been left were almost birdlike, but they were almost three meters across. They needed to find the entity that had left the tracks and fast.

General Martins had had a squadron looking for it for hours now. Lieutenant Sawyer had a map made of the location and looked at while looking at the tracks. She quickly constructed a model of the demon, or at least something rough enough it could be useful and looked at the geography of the area. She quickly found some caves that could hold the demon; if it had disappeared into them, that would explain how it was evading the squadron.

After a series of terse emails, it was decided that they would be heading out in the morning. General Martins wanted to confirm its location and at least try some missiles before committing any actual troops. But when they did, it would be with a platoon of powered armor suits, and Lieutenant Prowse would have her own.

Lieutenant Sawyer looked at Lieutenant Prowse. “Looks like we have a mission to prepare for.” Lieutenant Prowse nodded grimly.

* * * * *

The warehouse appeared before them, a small door beckoning them to enter the building. Samuels and Walker drug their heels; Douglas got tired of waiting and charged in, requisition in hand. Inside it was as if a military catalog had exploded then organized itself: Privates hurried from shelf to shelf, grabbing some items, putting some items on the shelf. Yet for all the activity it seemed very relaxed. A staff sergeant with the build of wrestler sat behind a counter, appearing to be relaxed until he barked out an order, which was obeyed instantly and without question.

Douglas suddenly felt energized; he was in his element. He walked straight up to the front desk. “Afternoon, sergeant. I've been asked to collect this gear.”

The sergeant glared at Douglas, an attempt to intimidate him that dissipated against the kid's aura. He glanced at the list. “Fine.” He looked for a moment, then targeted a private who obviously hadn't been hitting the gym. “Andersen, get me the basic package.” The private hesitated. “NOW.” The young soldier ran off, grabbed a cart, and started grabbing items practically at random. He looked back at Douglas. “You're no soldier.”

“Independent contractor with a scavenging squad. They're trying to convince me to join.”

“Interesting. You a scrapper?”

“I can hold my own.”

“Soldiering isn't bad work for a kid such as yourself. Deal with some uppity brass, sure, but you get some fresh air, three squares, and a daily workout. Great for the beach. But it ain't for everyone.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Those your escorts hovering outside my door?”

“Yeah. I think they're scared of you.” Douglas grinned. “The platoon sergeant likes it that way.”

The sergeant grinned back. “Young soldiers. Give them a few years.”

Anderson returned with a full cart. “The items as requested, Sergeant Kowalski!”

“Good job, Andersen. You may not be a total waste of flesh after all.” Andersen looked taller for a second. “Now scat!” Andersen disappeared. Sergeant Kowalski looked at the kid in front of him, then launched into his oft-repeated speech: “So, you are to look at the gear in the cart and inspect it. This gear can last you a long time if you treat it right; do so like your life depends on it because it most likely does. You are to inspect on a regular basis, looking for tears, holes, and other signs of wear; if you detect those signs of wear you are to replace the equipment as quickly as possible.

“This gear is being assigned to you because someone has deemed you worthy of its use. Treat it like you are worthy of that trust and this gear will someday ensure that you return to this base and possibly even return here to replace gear that has given its life in service to your own. But if I find that you are mistreating my gear, I will track you down and instruct you very carefully in its proper care and maintenance. Have I been clear, contractor?”

“Crystal, sergeant.” During the speech he had been inspecting the gear, checking it off, and packing it as tightly as possible in a backpack that had come with the kit. Some of the gear ended up in a pile. When he was done, he double-checked the items he had crossed off, making sure that the sergeant saw him doing exactly that. He did not check off the gear in the pile. “Most of Andersen's picks were good. These items, however, have a few holes in them rendering them unusable, and he forgot several items.” He handed the list back to the sergeant.

“Are you sure? The gear looks good to me.” The sergeant towered over Douglas.

“Sergeant Kowalski, as you yourself noted, this gear is meant to protect my life and I should treat it as such. With that great advice in mind, I have to refuse these pieces of gear.” He was actually starting to breathe a little faster. He hadn't felt this way since the dretch a few days ago.

“Fine. Andersen!” The private appeared as if by magic. “Replace this gear.” Douglas handed him the list. “And make sure these other items are added to the list.” Andersen disappeared. The sergeant smiled at Douglas. “I like it when people take their gear seriously.” He glared to the soldiers hovering outside and made sure that they could hear. “It's a refreshing change of pace.”

A few moments later, he walked out the door with all of his gear, packed and ready to go. He had even scored an extra water-proof bag and a few extra carabiner clips. You never bargain with a wizard. He smiled as he left. He walked off, an action that helped further to hide his relief at escaping with his skin intact. The other two followed him.

Samuels tapped him on the shoulder. “The PX is to your left.” Douglas changed direction with no comment.

[The last chapter can be found here.]