Tag Archives: Caprice

Tales from Charon – Bitter Reunion

Jenny Barrister could barely contain herself.  She was going down in history.  They were already talking about a Nobel for her work exposing the Biocorp hunter/killer program and their work on the Delta Units.

But every image could always use a little bit of tweaking and she had a perfect human interest story that would cement her image.  Caprice Parker, reunited with the son she couldn’t remember.  And a son, reunited with the mother he never met.

It was perfect.

As if on cue, the gate came to life in front of Jenny.  The polished steel supports began humming and the green swirling gases under the glass floor froze.  Inside the gravitational field contained by the gate, reality began to bend.  It was folding, breaking down.  The gateway functioned by folding space-time, putting one location directly on top of another that was millions of light years away.  The visual appearance of two locations sharing the same space was something to behold.

A young man came into focus.  He was tall with gently curling blond hair and square glasses.  He was thin and gangly, a consequence of teenage hormones run amok.

“Ian Parker?” Jenny asked.

The young man staggered and stumbled out of the gate, “Yeah … I … whoa!”

Jenny caught him and laughed, “Your first time through is a little wild huh?”

“Yeah,”  the boy laughed with her, “Hey, so where’s my mom?”

Jenny nodded.  Perfect.

“Now keep in mind,” she took him by the hand, “You’re mom is what they call a Beta Unit.  Even though she generally looks like she did on Earth, her body has changed quite a bit.”

Ian patted her on the back, “I don’t remember my mom so I guess I won’t be surprised,” he smiled.

“Then let’s go find her,” Jenny offered.

 

*  *  *

 

“Shoot him!” Caprice yelled from the back of the warpig.  “Just shoot!”

It was her worst fear, instead of adapting and finding a way to kill the warpig, the soldiers were just relying on her to do it all.  Just because their plasma weapons didn’t work didn’t mean they didn’t have other options!

But there she was, gored twice by the monsters huge tusks, bleeding out of her mouth and stuck riding on the back of the giant boar.  At least it was outside the  city.

Hearing the baying of the gorehounds on the hill behind her, Caprice was able to grab her wakazashi.  She had to stop the damn thing from crashing back through the gates of the city.  It would kill too many civilians if it got back in.

Holding onto the back of the boar with her legs, she grabbed one tusk.  Her breathing was coming in short, excruciating gasps and more blood poured out of her mouth.  At the very least her ribs were broken, more likely she had a punctured and collapsed lung.

As the creature charged the gates, Caprice actually thanked the Bardo.  When it had come, the skin had peeled off the monster and she could see its vertebrae underneath the muscle tissue.  All she needed to do … was …

The blade bounced off the bone of the beast’s spine.  Her damn hands were still shaking!  Just one more time!  One time dammit!

Kicking the creature, Caprice dug her heels into its sides.  The warpig kicked its front legs out, skidding to a stop and throwing the platinum blond over its head.

“She’s clear!” she heard the soldiers start yelling.

Just one more …

The wakazashi struck true!  She slipped the blade between the armored boar’s vertebrae and felt the satisfying tug as the edge sliced through its spinal cord.  The monster’s head instantly collapsed to the dirt and Caprice tumbled through the air.

Slamming back-first into the gates, Caprice heard a sickening crunch issue from her spine and any remaining breath left her body.  Crumpling to the ground, her head hit the dirt and more blood poured out of her mouth.  Only yards away, the warpig tried to gasp for breath, it stared at her in confusion.  It didn’t understand how she had beat it, it didn’t understand what she had done to it.  It didn’t understand why she wasn’t dead.

That was it!  A wave a relief rolled through Caprice.  The moment of clarity draped a blanket of understanding over her, warming and calming her.

Death had been there for her the whole time!  Charon was death, it wasn’t denying her.  She was denying it!  All those years, all that time, she thought she’d been lucky (or unlucky) enough to stay alive.  She had fought and fought and fought.

For what?

Once the soldiers’ plasma rifles didn’t work, they gave up.  The civilians wouldn’t fight.  Like always, it was up to her.

Why?  Because Charon wanted her!  It had always wanted her and even though she wanted the fight to end, she wouldn’t stop fighting.

Pushing herself to her feet, she started staggering toward the paralyzed boar.  She couldn’t hear the shouts of the soldiers, didn’t want to.  Gorehounds loved to follow warpigs, feeding on the scraps left by the bulldozer-like monsters and they were singing to her on the hill.

Their baying was her requiem.

Stopping by the warpig, she drove her sword into its skull, extinguishing the remaining  life in the beast.  Continuing her practice of following the ancient rituals, she punched her hand into the pommel of the katana, breaking the blade.  The sword had been made for her and she would be the only person to ever use it.

Her weapons were all used up and her armor was destroyed.

 

*  *  *

 

“Come on!” Jenny yelled.

Caprice was just on the other side of the gates.  The floodlights were shining down and Jenny would have her human-interest piece.

Ian followed after her, panting, “She, she’s okay?  Right?”

“Your mom’s as tough as anyone I’ve ever seen!” Jenny yelled as the gates opened, but the light wasn’t going to be on her this time.

Caprice held her hands out to the sides, blood dripping from her fingertips.  She couldn’t breathe, but it didn’t matter.  She wouldn’t have to for long.  They could see she was unarmed.  The gorehounds wouldn’t hesitate.

Her hands didn’t shake.  Her muscles weren’t tense.  The platinum woman who had trained so many killers, slaughtered so many monsters, was completely at ease.  She wasn’t afraid.

“M … Mom?” Ian stammered.

Caprice smiled as the creatures fell on her.  It wasn’t pain that she was feeling, it was contentment.  She was getting to meet an old friend for the first time.  The animals tore and ripped at her and her body gave out.  She fell to the ground, smiling as skinless hounds the size of cougars tore the flesh from her bones.

“MOM!” Ian tried to rush forward, but Jenny grabbed him.

“No Ian!  No!  They’ll kill you too!” Jenny yelled.  She was losing it!  Losing everything.  This was supposed to be her big moment!

Caprice closed her eyes and sighed one last time.  Darkness embraced her, her body faded away, feeling faded away, sound was gone.  Then there were colors, red and then smoke.  But then the smoke was driven away by a brilliant white light.

The light was peaceful.  The light was understanding.  Caprice was happy.  No, she was joyful.  No, that wasn’t it either.

Bliss.  Caprice reached out without hands and touched bliss.

It was over.

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Tales from Charon – Birthing Center

I have to apologize for the lack of updates lately.  Work has been so crazy that I don’t even have time to think and frankly, I need a little time to think if I’m going to write.  Mrs. Webgoji has been working extra hard and will be applying for Director in Qualification with Mary Kay and I myself have been putting in quite a bit of overtime at work.  But all that said, here is another Tales from Charon!

 

Her damn hands were shaking too bad to make a decent cut.  The wakazashi shook violently in Caprice’s grip as it was poised to enter her stomach.  If she could just get her hands to work!

Biocorp had claimed that the reason the Beta units were retired was because they couldn’t adapt.  That wasn’t entirely untrue.  It hadn’t been long before Biocorp had realized their Beta weapons were exhibiting a form of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder that they called Repeated Traumatic Stress Disorder.  Most, if not all, of the remaining Betas suffered from Major Depressive Disorder, hypervigilance and paranoia, suicidal tendencies and hyperadrenalism.

It was the damn hyperadrenalism that was making her hands shake.  Her adrenal glands were pumping out hormones constantly at a rate that would kill most normal people.  But she couldn’t be lucky enough to have it kill her.

So there she sat.  Wearing only her underwear and on her knees in her dingy little room with sweat pouring down her body as she tried to get her blade aimed at her abdomen.  She  had to get it done before someone came in asking …

The door burst open and Sergeant Jackson leaned in, “Ma’am!  We found … what the hell!”

… for help.  They always came to her for help.

Grabbing the weapon out of her hands, the sergeant barked, “What are you doing!?”

Trying to steady her jaw, Caprice blew her sweaty bangs out of her eyes, “It’s called harakiri Sergeant.  It was an ancient ritual practiced by the Samurai of Japan.”

“Thank the lord,” the young man wiped his brow, “I thought you were trying to kill yourself.”  Quickly, her turned away from her, “Sorry about seeing you in your unmentionables Ma’am.”

Spitting on the floor, Caprice grabbed her armor.  Another little technique she used when she was upset.  By spitting, Caprice had conditioned herself to diffuse her anger when she was mad at someone.

“First, I don’t believe in your god Sergeant.  You want to spout that crap take it somewhere else,” Caprice barked, roughly pulling up her ES Poly armor.  “Second, what’s the problem?”

“Uh, yes Ma’am.  Sorry about that,” the young man’s dark skin turned a slightly blush color.  “We found a Biocorp facility out in the forest Ma’am.  We don’t have any records of it, it’s like it never existed.  We want you’re help securing it Ma’am.”

“Nuke it,” Caprice groaned, sheathing her wakazashi.

“Ma’am?”

“What part of ‘nuke it’ didn’t you get Sergeant?” Caprice barked again.  The platinum blond spit on the ground again trying to calm herself.  “Unless I miss my guess, that forest you’re talking about is the one near the village.  During the Bardo all kinds of nasty shit comes out in that forest.  Don’t risk the men.  Blow the whole damn thing back to hell.”

The Sergeant looked up as Caprice put her hand on his shoulder, she was as ready as she was going to be.

“I’m sorry Ms. Parker.  We’ve got orders,” he shrugged.  “We have to find out what they’re doing in there before we can destroy it.”

Shaking her head Caprice sighed, “Fine, let’s do it.  It’s a good day to die anyway.”

 

*  *  *

 

The troop transport was getting close to the forest and Sergeant Jackson was chattering like a bird, “… so anyway, can you tell us anything about the Bardo?  Where did that name come from?”

Caprice leaned back, looking up at the top of the transport, “You need to read your history Sarge.  There’s only one religion left; The Church of Light.  It’s based on an old dead religion that came from a prophet who was supposed to be the son of a god.  It’s teachings are gone, but some of the basic concepts are in your religion.  At that time though, there was another religion that was older and died off sooner.  That other religion stated that there was a state between life and death.”

“Bardo,” the soldier nodded, understanding.  “And since so many people die during the darkness here, we call it Bardo.”

“Yup,” Caprice nodded.

The truck came to a stop and the soldiers started checking their weapons and armor, “Is that where your harry-carry ritual came from?”

Banging her head against the side of the transport, the woman groaned, “Not remotely,” was all she said as her finger tapped involuntarily on the side of her plasma rifle.  Damn hyperadrenalism.

“Well anyway,” the soldier seemed to be wrapping things up, “Can you give me your workout plan?”

The other nineteen soldiers piled out of the back of the transport as they disembarked.  Caprice followed suit, taking her rifle off safety.

“Why?” she asked, looking up at the canopy of trees.

“Because I would give anything to have arms and abs like yours,” the young man laughed.  “Seriously!”

“Sell yourself to Biocorp, give them all your memories and sanity and you can have a Gamma body,” Caprice snorted.  “Who knows?  Maybe I would train you.”

Ahead of the troops loomed a two story glass and steel building.  It was strangely out of place in the rotten, dark woods.  The building was like a gleaming scalpel cutting into the rotten flesh of the forest.

“Stay here,” Caprice ordered.  “If they’ve got bioweapons as security, you’ll have to stay back and shoot them from a distance.”

“What about you?” the sergeant asked.  Was there a hint of concern?  Yearning?  In his voice.

“I told you,” Caprice walked toward the building, “It’s a good day to die.”

 

*  *  *

 

Just as she entered the building, Caprice was greeted by a strange receptionist behind a grand, oaken desk.  The woman was like nothing she had ever seen.  Tall and so thin she might have been anorexic, the woman … the being, had skin that was the color of malachite and long, long pointed ears.  Her eyes were black with only green rings around what would be the pupil and her hands were long and ended in vicious talons.

“Hello, can I help you?” the creature asked with a song-bird voice through deadly fangs.

Snapping the rifle to her shoulder, Caprice aimed between the creature’s eyes, “What the hell are you?”

Her eyes widened with shock and the creature raised her hands, “I … I’m Fifteen.  Do … don’t sh … sh … shoot okay?”

“You look older than fifteen,” Caprice grunted, looking for security, “Who’s in charge here?”

“I … I’ll j … j … ” tears were starting to roll down the beast’s cheeks as she lowered a trembling hand toward an intercom  button.

“Fifteen?” another melodic voice came from the hall behind the desk, “Are you okay?”

Another creature emerged from the hall.  This differed from the first only in the color of its satin hair and hellish eyes.  That and the second creature appeared to be uncomfortably pregnant.

Caprice snapped her rifle up to the new beast, “Stop right there.  Move and you’re dead.  Got it!?”

The second creature raised her arms as well, “Don’t!  My baby!” she yelled.

“Don’t move Eighteen,” the first creature said, “She wants the doctor.”

“Eighteen?” Caprice looked back at the first creature without lowering her weapon, “What the hell are you?”

Fifteen’s trembling hand poked the intercom button, “D … d … d …”

A voice responded, “Yes Fifteen?  Are you okay?”

Caprice stepped forward and shoved the receptionist out of the way, causing her to fall to the ground and whimper like a scared child.  Keeping her weapon pointed at the second monster, Caprice poked the intercom button.

“This is the Earth Military.  You in charge?” she said.

“Don’t hurt them!” the man’s voice responded, “I’ll be right down.  Just don’t hurt them!”

In moments, a well dressed human man with sleazy black hair and thick glasses burst around the corner of the hall.  Caprice took her aim off the crying creatures in front of her and motioned for the man to raise his hands.

“We’re unarmed Miss,” the man panted, “Please don’t hurt them.  Let me show you.”

“Keep you hands where I can see them,” Caprice nodded.  “You so much as twitch and I’ll kill everything in here.”

“Understood,” the man agreed and motioned for Caprice to follow him.  “If you’ll just follow me, you’ll see.”

The man lead the bleach-blond woman into the hallway past several open windows.  Inside the rooms were more of the creatures with young boys that looked like them.  They were playing and laughing with toys like normal humans.  In other rooms creatures were nursing their black skinned babies and in yet other rooms, they waddled around like pregnant mothers, happy, glowing and uncomfortable.

“As you can see, we’re raising the next generation of bioweapons,” the man explained.  “We lost communications recently, but we’ve continued our work.”

He stopped by a room where several doctors were working on a skrill, “Thanks to the Delta Prototype, we know we can produce Epsilon units by impregnating deltas with skrill genes.  The resultant weapons are … amazing.”

Deltas?  Epsilons?

Caprice lowered her rifle and put her left hand on her plasma pistol, “You impregnate those … things with skrill to make … monsters?” she asked, holding back the urge to vomit.

It was the most disgusting thing she’d ever seen.  The poor creatures seemed so happy to be carrying monster babies in their bellies.  Blinking, Caprice remembered reading about Nazi breeding programs during World War II.  It was sickening.

“Well, they’re not monsters,” the man corrected her, “But they are so much more advanced than you that they even make the Deltas obsolete …”

Faster than the man could finished his sentence, Caprice drew her pistol and placed the barrel on his temple, pulling the trigger.  She didn’t take her eyes off the horrible semen extraction even as the doctor’s brains hit the wall.  The place couldn’t be allowed to stand.

Killing every creature she passed, Caprice stormed through the cries of anguish and fear until she was out of the building and stopping in front of Sergeant Jackson, “Nuke it!  Now!”

“What’s in there?” the soldier asked, grabbing his com unit, “Epsilon Seven requesting tactical nuclear air strike.”

“They’re making monsters,” Caprice mumbled.

 

*  *  *

 

Watching the mushroom cloud grow over the trees Caprice pressed her cheek against the glass window of the transport.  There was one other symptom of Repeated Traumatic Stress Disorder that Caprice had never experienced; an uncaring disassociation.

The blond woman sighed and sat back.  Death was a release from suffering on Charon.  Why wouldn’t it come for her?


Tales from Charon – One of Their Own

No rest for the wicked.

Or at least that’s what they say.  Looking at her half-empty bottle Caprice wondered, was she one of the wicked?

Her ribs still ached and because of her unnatural constitution, the alcohol was only slightly dulling the pain.  Blowing her platinum bangs out of her eyes, she took another swig from her bottle when she heard the door to the bar open and then close behind her.

“Alright, give me a pan of all of the hunter-killers and then … hang on,” she heard a woman’s voice say.

Sitting the bottle down, the veteran bioweapon rolled her neck, causing it to pop.  Damn reporters had been showing up like an infestation of blood sucking fleas recently.  Whatever had happened, it had been big and Biocorp must have been in trouble.

“Excuse me, you’re a Beta right?” the woman’s voice asked.

Taking another quick drink, Caprice sat the bottle down and nodded, “Yeah,” she sighed.  “Why?”

Talking made her ribs hurt worse.

“The Betas I’ve talked to have more of their memories back than the Gammas, do you have a little time to talk to the National News Network about what’s happened to you here on Charon and how you got here?” the voice asked.

Caprice didn’t look through her bleach-blond hair to see who was talking to her, “Whatever,” she groaned, taking another drink.

“I’m joined with another Beta Unit …” the woman’s voice started, but Caprice interjected.

“Racist,” she barked, motioning for the bartender.

“What?” the woman’s voice responded.

The bartender, a burly man named Harvey, handed Caprice another bottle as she turned to face the reporter.  Caprice looked her over quickly; a skinny little blond that was showing a little too much cleavage and a maliciously ambitious gleam in her eyes.

“My name is Caprice Parker, not Beta Unit,” Caprice said flatly.  “You wouldn’t call your cameraman Black Guy would you?  We have names, we’re people.”

The woman paused for a moment, considering what Caprice had said.  She wasn’t confused.  No, that woman wasn’t dumb.  She was just mulling over some new information.

“I remember that I used to work for Biocorp until I got a divorce,” Caprice took another quick drink.  “Can’t say as I know what or who I was married to, but I signed up for the hunter-killer program.  I got here, stayed alive for a while and when they came out with the Gamma Units I was promoted to trainer.  That’s about it.”

The woman had recovered quickly, “Are you excited to be going home?”

“Ms. Parker!” a soldier yelled from the other side of the room.  “We need help!”

Groaning, the platinum warrior stood up slowly, “I guess you’ll have to ask someone else,” she chuckled.

She met the soldier in the middle of the room with the reporter and her cameraman in tow, “What’s up Sergeant?” she asked.

“It’s …” he panted, evidently winded from running to the bar, “One of yours Ma’am.  He’s killed five men already and has a hostage.”

“So shoot him in the head,” Caprice shrugged over the whispers of the woman behind her.

“Snipers can’t get a shot Ma’am, he knows what’s going on,” the man was catching his breath.  “And we can’t take him up close.  We need you.”

This is only the third recorded time this has happened,” the woman whispered to the camera behind Caprice.

“Dead or alive?” Caprice asked, starting toward the door.

“Alive if possible,” the soldier responded.

A short drive in the transport took Caprice to a closed warehouse surrounded by soldiers.  Looking at their formations, Caprice chuckled.  The sergeant had been right, they weren’t ready to try to take on a bioweapon.  They were all too close.

Hopping out of the transport with the reporter and camera behind her, Caprice patted one of the soldiers on the shoulder, “Get your people back, if this comes out of the warehouse you’re all too close.”

Shoving the camera back, Caprice approached the closed rolling door and grabbed it by the handle.  With a grunt, she broke the lock and, entering the warehouse, closed the door behind her.

“Caprice!” the bioweapon in the center of the room gasped.

It was a tall man, a Gamma, with long brown hair and striking eyes.  He held a woman next to him on her knees, his sword on the back of her neck.

“Okay Ron, drop the sword and let’s go,” Caprice said, holding her hands up so he could see she didn’t have a weapon in her hands.

Ron had been one of Caprice’s success stories.  She had trained him from the day he arrived on Charon and he had gone on to save hundreds of people.  She had been so proud of him, felt so great to have taught him.  He might have actually been the closest thing she ever had to a real son.  But now he was shaking and sweating next to a terrified dark skinned woman.

“I … I can’t Caprice,” he stammered, blinking back tears.

“You’re going home, now drop the sword,” Caprice said flatly.

He was broken.  Not physically, but mentally.  It wasn’t the first time she’d seen it either.  The stress of the constant nightmarish fighting on Charon was more than anyone should have to endure.  Only the people that eventually hardened their heart so much they didn’t care about life or death were the ones that lasted.

“I can’t go home Caprice … I’m …” Ron was nearly panting while trying to keep from crying.  “I’m a murder back there.”

“So?” Caprice shrugged, “Stay here then.”

“I can’t take it any more,” Ron began crying, “No more death, no more …”

“Ron,” Caprice approached him, her voice as deadly serious as it could be, “There’s only two ways this can end Ron.”

Ron nodded his head.  He dropped his eyes, not wanting to look at Caprice.

“So which is it Ron?” Caprice asked, lowering her hand to her own katana.

“Do you know what Seppuku is Caprice?” he asked.

Caprice’s heart sunk into the pit of her stomach.  She wanted to vomit and cry.  She wanted to run away, but both the woman and Ron needed her.

Drawing her wakazashi, Caprice nodded.  Handing him the small sword, handle first, she bumped the woman with her foot.

“Don’t watch this,” she told the woman.

Obligingly, the woman scooted out of the way and covered her ears while scrunching her eyes tightly shut.  Caprice was glad she obeyed.  People didn’t need to witness death to understand it happened, especially violent and upsetting deaths.

Drawing her katana, Caprice stepped behind Ron as he dropped to his knees.  Holding the wakazashi in both hands, he turned the blade toward himself.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered

Ron drove the blade into his gut without so much as a grunt.  Gritting his teeth against the pain, the warrior ritualistically sliced through his abdomen, disemboweling himself.  Before he could grunt or cry out, Caprice decapitated him with a single smooth stroke of her blade.

Pushing her sorrow into her gut, the blond veteran approached the former hostage.  Taking one of her hands, she helped the woman up.

“Come on,” Caprice grunted.  “On your feet.”

As she lead the woman out of the warehouse Caprice was greeted to cheers and clapping.  Several cameras were trained on her, recording her every move.

She was a hero … again.  And heroes always cried alone.


Tales from Charon – The Hive

“We gonna survive this ma’am?” one of the young soldiers asked.

Caprice couldn’t see the young man’s face through his helmet and didn’t really care to.  For most people, life on Charon was short, violent and nightmarish.

For Caprice it was just another day.

“Listen up!” she barked, turning toward the fifteen soldiers that were packed in the troop transport.  “You’re training until now was useless!  Got it!?”

She waited a moment for a response.  None came.

“Am I understood!?” she yelled again.

“Yes sir!” the soldiers responded in unison.

Shaking her head Caprice sighed.  They were dead.  Like so many times before she would be the only survivor.

“You will be flanked, you’ll be attacked from behind.  This is not a ‘keep moving forward’ situation!” Caprice continued as the transport rumbled across the barren land.  “This is a hive of skrill!  Skrill only do two things; eat and mate!  Listen to my orders and follow my lead and you’ll stay alive.”

Caprice took a moment to look out the front of the transport, the computers were adjusting nicely.  They would reach the hive soon.

Blowing her platinum bangs out of her eyes Caprice sighed, “You ladies keep firing until there’s nothing left.  If you don’t, you’ll get butt-fucked to death.”

Behind her, she heard a chuckle.

“Think that’s funny kid?” she asked without turning around.  The mound that was the entrance to the hive was just ahead.

“Just wondering ma’am, who’s gonna be doing the ..?” the man started to say as Caprice patted the driver on the shoulder letting him know to stop.

“I just told you, skrill eat and mate,” she grabbed the automatic plasma rifle the military had given her.  “While one is eating your face, another will be fucking you like a two credit whore.”

The back gate dropped and Caprice walked past the soldiers.  Pausing at the exit to the transport, she looked up at the sky.  Whatever had happened, something had killed the sky.  It looked like it was rotten and it undulated like it was filled with parasitic worms.  The death of the sky had put the entire planet into a perpetual twilight and the shadows seemed longer than usual.

“Ma’am?” she heard a voice over the communicator.

What now?

“Yes?” Caprice sighed.

“Why do you have swords ma’am?” the voice asked.  She wasn’t even concerned with who asked the question.

Raising her rifle to her shoulder, Caprice began moving deliberately toward the mound, “Because rifles run out of ammunition.  Before you ask, the katana has a molecular edge, they don’t make them anymore.  It takes technique to use it.  The wakazashi is for me.”

The soldiers followed as she lead them to the entrance of the hive, “For you ma’am?”

“To kill myself with before they rape me to death,” she sighed, stopping at the entrance.

Where were the skrill?  They should have been flooding out of the entrance the minute the soldiers disembarked.

Leaning over the edge, her rifle at her shoulder, the platinum blond waited for her helmet to pick up some kind of movement inside the hive.  Where were they?  It was silent all around them except for the rumble.

Shit!  The skrill were waiting for the Bardo!

“Three cover the back!  Don’t let anything behind us,” Caprice ordered, moving into the hive, “Two on each side, watch the walls!”

Pushing into the tunnels, she heard the thunder of a thousand storms roll over and Charon went black behind them.  Shrieks issued through the tunnels and the sounds of scampering echoed through the hive.

Taking a deep breath, Caprice pointed her rifle around a bend to see a horde of skrill scampering toward them.  Bigger than a man with four back legs, two arms and an insect-like carapace, the creatures charged toward them.  Caprice squeezed the trigger, firing round after round of plasma into the insect-like creatures.

“Behind us!” someone yelled.  The electronic sounds of plasma rounds being fired echoed from behind the veteran bioweapon.

“Don’t stop until they quit twitching!” Caprice yelled.

The male skrill were easy to identify.  They were rushing toward her with their over-sized and armored genitalia erect and ready for mating.  Ignoring the disgusting display, Caprice kept firing, blasting holes into every skrill she saw.

Noting her plasma battery, Caprice yelled, “Second row!” and stepped back into the middle of the group.

The soldiers in the middle stepped up and began firing while Caprice and the other front row soldiers grabbed magazines off their belts.  Slamming the next battery into her rifle, Caprice turned to a new set of screams behind her.

One skrill had gotten through.  It was on top of a soldier, chewing on his face and trying to tear off his armor.  It was trying to rape him, driving its erect penis into his armor.

“He’s dead!” Caprice yelled, firing into the skull of the skrill.

Taking the fallen soldier’s position, she quickly fired into the man’s head, ending his life.  The remaining skrill would have eaten him alive.  Caprice had watched it happen numerous times, one of the worst ways to die possible on Charon.

“Get moving!” she yelled.

The group kept pushing through the hive, deeper and deeper into the tunnels.  The corpses of the skrill were piling up like leaves.  Blood formed rivers, flowing down to the heart of the lair and soldier after soldier felt the fangs of the rabid beasts.

Seven soldiers had been killed by the time they reached the heart of the hive, “Where’d they go!” the lead soldier yelled as the skrill withdrew.

“The queen is ahead!” Caprice yelled over her shoulder.  “Kill her and you kill the hive!”

Wiping blood off her visor, Caprice moved to the front just as they entered the egg chamber.  The walls and floor were covered with white, leathery eggs and a layer of slime coated the dirt room.  In the center was a huge female skrill attached to a massive abdomen.  Egg after egg poured out of the queen and she turned to the soldiers, shrieking at them.

Pushing through the stunned soldiers, Caprice began firing at the twenty-foot tall monster, “Shoot you idiots!  Shoot!!”

But the woman quickly saw that plasma rounds were the wrong answer.  One after another, they bounced off the glistening armor of the queen as she continued laying eggs.

“Fuck it!” Caprice yelled, tossing her rifle to the ground and drawing her katana.

Made from Charon steel and laced in black hyper-alloy, the molecular blade gleamed in the darkness.  An elegant weapon, the katana relied on technique and sharpness as opposed to the traditional weight and technology that the normal swords and axes relied on.

While the soldiers continued firing, Caprice charged forward, slicing into the queen’s belly.  The beast screamed and thrashed, shocked to be injured.  It snatched out at Caprice, but she twisted, slashing off one of its limbs.  Before the twitching arm had hit the ground, the blond woman drove her blade into the beast and carved upward.

Shrieking in pain, the queen lashed out, hitting Caprice in the chest.  The bioweapon could hear her ribs break as she was flung across the room.  With a thud, she hit the wall of the cavern, the impact knocking the wind out of her.

As she hit the ground, Caprice looked up to see the soldiers moving up on the queen.  They were getting too close!

“Get back!” she yelled through the pain of her shattered ribs, but the queen grabbed one in her maw.

Chewing and grinding, the queen crunched the soldier into a pulp as if he were a simple kernel of popcorn.  The man’s screams were cut short as his head fell to the ground.

Limping and trying to catch her breath, Caprice closed the distance to the queen while the soldiers fell back, “Aim for her eyes!”

Her injuries were slowing her.  Caprice couldn’t react like she had to.  The queen knew who the real threat was and grabbed her in a taloned hand.  The beast squeezed the thrashing woman, collapsing her broken bones.  The platinum woman’s breath left her again as the broken ribs punctured her lungs. Her vision was fading and stars were flashing in her line of sight.

But it was only a moment before Caprice had her chance.  The queen brought the bioweapon to her maw and Caprice drove her blade up through the creature’s bottom jaw.  One simple shudder as the sword entered its brain and the monster fell, dropping Caprice to the ground.

“You got it ma’am!” Caprice heard someone say as she struggled to grab a syringe on her belt.

“I got you ma’am,” she heard as warmth poured through her body.  Someone had given her a shot of regen injection.

Her ribs were moving back into place and her breath returned as she smiled through her helmet, “Sergeant?”

A voice responded through the communicator, “Yes ma’am?”

“Let’s get out of here,” she sighed.  Only fifty percent casualties … a pretty good day actually.


Tales from Charon – Old School

The “Tales from Charon” series isn’t just about Ascheya and Lieutenant Jack.  There are so many stories to be told on Charon that I’m going to introduce you to someone new this time.

The sign would have said Processing Center 8, but like most government ideas, they didn’t think it all the way through.  So the glowing neon lights over Caprice’s head were nothing but a jumbled mess of red lines that swirled and changed constantly.

Caprice blew her platinum bangs out of her eyes while twisting the ace of spades in her hand.  It was torn in one corner from a plasma blast.  That card had stayed on her helmet until the day an Alpha Unit nearly took her head off.  Now it stayed by her heart.

“I didn’t catch your number last night,” she heard a voice say behind her.

What was his name?  Bob, Berry?  Who cared?  The night before some Gamma Unit had been hitting on her.

Bill, his name was Bill.

“No, you didn’t,” Caprice groaned, tucking her card into her armor.

Bill stepped out of the door and put his arm over her, leaning on the wall.  To be fair, he was gorgeous; tall, long blond hair and  a body that could grace the cover of a romance novel.  But all Gamma Units looked like that.

“So Jennifer gave me her room number, what d’ya say?” Bill smiled down at her.

Caprice was a Beta Unit, obsolete.  She had been designed with function in mind, not to look pretty.  She was broad and strong, built like an elite athlete.  Small chested and barely six-feet tall, she didn’t compare to the model-esque gamma units with their long hair, lean legs and big breasts.  Why was he bothering her?

“I say back off,” Caprice grunted, pushing Bill away with her free hand.  Even the bioweapons had their douche-bags and one was in front of her.

There were three production generations of Hunter/Killers made by Biocorp.  The Alpha Units were cyborgs made from cybernetic parts and dead bodies.  They hadn’t adapted to Charon so they were mothballed and replaced by the Beta Units.

Betas like Caprice had been designed from living people and their strength, speed and healing were increased through a genetic and physical protocol called The Archangel Protocol.  When the Beta Units weren’t enough, Biocorp had released the Gamma Units.

Gamma Units like Bill were upgraded to be able to charge their weapons into laser cutters and power their armor through an internal battery.  They were given a better protocol called The Seraphim Protocol and were actually given an appearance that Biocorp thought would endear them with the Earth public.

But they were just annoying to the veteran trainer Caprice.

“Come on,” Bill cooed, “Let’s get you out of that armor.  You can’t be comfortable in that.”

Caprice was wearing a black, obsolete armor called ES Poly; Extreme Service Polymer.  Not as strong as the current Hyper-Alloy armor used by the Gamma Units, it was lighter and allowed her to move better.  It was complete with interlocking panels covering her entire body and a electronic helmet that helped her target enemies and see during the Bardo.

The tall blond man put his hand on her waist, “I love those abs you Betas have.  Let’s see ’em.”

“Take.  Your hand off me,” Caprice growled, “NOW!”

She might have been alone outside Processing Center 8.  She might have been outclassed and obsolete compared to the bigger, stronger and faster Gamma Unit in front of her.

But she was far from defenseless.

“Come on baby, Jennifer is waiting for us,” Bill cooed as Caprice adjusted her grip on her helmet.

Twisting, she slammed the helmet into the side of Bill’s head with a satisfying crunch, staggering the big bioweapon.  He stumbled to the side and the smaller woman spun, kicking his feet out from under him.

But he was ready.  Just as Bill hit the ground, he kicked himself back up to his feet and elbowed Carprice in the side of the head.  The blow was worse than being kicked by a bull.  He was so strong that his strike caused her vision to go black and her ears to ring.

Stumbling back, the platinum blond felt Bill grab her from behind and slam her into the wall of the Center.  Her vision was already clearing, but her ears were still ringing.

“Now,” Bill groaned, pressing into her and sniffing at her hair, “Let’s just see if we can’t get that old armor off …”

Jerking her head back, Caprice smashed her skull into her attacker’s nose.  Feeling the satisfying crunch of bone breaking bone, she donkey kicked backward, driving her heel into Bill’s groin.

The Gamma Unit collapsed and Caprice jumped onto him, punching him in his broken nose, “NOBODY!” she yelled punching him again.

“NOBODY DOES THAT TO ME!!!  YOU TRIED TO RAPE … A GODDESS!!” Caprice bellowed, elbowing the man in the face.

As she reared back to hit him again, she was caught and pulled off of the man, “Whoa there little lady!” a voice said from behind.

Struggling and kicking at the bleeding man on the ground, the woman tried to get back to him.  How dare he try to rape her!  She wasn’t just some little whore in a cantina!  She was Caprice Parker, the best Hunter/Killer trainer on the planet!

“Get him out of here,” the soldier holding her said, nodding at three others who were gathering around the fallen fighter.

Calming, Caprice pulled away from the Earth soldier behind her and snatched up her helmet, “I was fine!” she huffed.

Her heart was still racing and she was so mad that she was seeing red.  Nobody touched her without permission dammit!  Nobody!

“Listen Miss,” the soldier Caprice noticed was a sergeant said.  “We’re trying to find your records.  You’ll be headed home soon okay?”

Shaking her head, her short platinum hair waving in front of her face, Caprice groaned, “How far back have you gone?”

Motioning into the Processing Center, the sergeant shook his head, “Ten years so far.  We haven’t matched your DNA yet though.”

Caprice and the soldier walked into the dark Processing Center.  It was actually a bar in New Boston that the military had converted into a processing center, but the good part was it still had ice and alcohol.

“Lemme buy you drink,” the soldier chuckled.

Groaning, Caprice rolled her big green eyes, “You’re so cute,” she said sarcastically.

He actually was kind of cute.  Even though everything on Charon was free of charge to everyone but the HK’s.

Grabbing a bottle of black-label whiskey and a towel full of ice, the soldier … his twisting and swirling tag might have said his name, gave her the bottle.

“How long have you been here?” he asked, pressing the cold rag against her head.  “Maybe we can start farther back in the records.”

Taking a long drink from the bottle, Caprice sloshed the alcohol around her bloodied gums and spit some blood and alcohol out of her mouth onto the floor, “Before the Gamma’s.  Time doesn’t make sense here though.”

Handing her the ice pack, the soldier offered her a chair, “How much do you remember?  The other HK’s have said they have some memories left.”

Looking around and taking another drink, Caprice watched the other biological weapons giving information to a collection of soldiers.  They were all trying to get their identities back so they could go home.  Something had happened, she wasn’t sure what, but something had happened to Biocorp and the Earth military was trying to bring them all home.

But she didn’t have a home to go back to.  She remembered.

“My name is Caprice Parker,” she offered, “I worked for Biocorp on the Alpha Unit project.”

Shaking her head and taking another long drink, she groaned, “I’ve already told you guys this three times.  I remember getting a divorce, I remember volunteering when the Betas went active.  I told you my identity. I know who I am.”

“You’ve been here that long?” the Sergeant asked, scratching his flat-top.

Her memories were still sketchy, but more complete than anyone she had yet met.  According to Biocorp, the process of becoming a bioweapon was so traumatic it destroyed their memories.

Caprice nodded.  Caprice was the Betas “Ace of Spades”.  She had been on the planet long enough that she knew the ins and outs of pretty much every place they had explored.  She knew how to handle all of the monsters, how to work their technology and even how to speak their language … Latin.

“Yeah,” she nodded.

When the Gammas had gone into production, she had been promoted to a trainer’s position.  She had taught more Gamma Units than she could count how to survive on Charon and more than a few of them were still alive.

“Man, we sure could use someone like you,” the soldier said, standing up and pushing his chair in.  “We’re lost all the time, can’t handle the local animals, speak the language, nothing.”

Caprice dropped her rag and grabbed him before he could go back to the information terminals.  That was it!

She didn’t have a family to go back to.  She didn’t have a job waiting for her.  There was nothing for her back on Earth … but they still needed her help on Charon.

“So what’s your offer?” she grinned.

“Ma’am?” the confused soldier twisted up his face.

“You need a Sacagawea?” Caprice thumped her chest, “I’m your girl.”

“A sack-of-what?” the man turned back to her.

Caprice rolled her eyes, “You guys give me room and board, I’ll train your soldiers and be your guide.  Deal?” she asked, spitting into her hand and then holding it out.

“That’s unsanitary,” chuckled the soldier.

“Yes,” Caprice was laughing inside, “Yes it is,” she smiled.

She hoped he didn’t notice her missing tooth.  Getting kicked in the head by a bloodmare can easily loosen an incisor.

Shaking her hand, the soldier laughed, “You just stay here miss.  My C-O will be out to talk to you shortly.”

So that was it.  Caprice had her calling again.  She remembered how excited she had been receiving her PhD and never thought it would lead to training soldiers on an alien hell-hole.  But there she was, nursing a sore head and watching the sergeant hurry to his commanding officer … and his butt looked nice in his fatigues.

 

I’ve quoted some song lyrics somewhere in this story.  Like before, if anyone can find them, point them out and give me the name of the band you’ll be the star of an upcoming story that appears on my blog!


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