-Starcraft
--Dead on Delivery
---Chapter 2: Pit Stop
Holy Zerg-on-a-hot-tin-roof... That desert was Satan's skillet. Even Mr. Marine Crick was sweating it as we made our way further and further into dead man's land. Through the mirror I could see Scratch adjust his goggles every now and then, and I was placing bets in my mind that he'd take the thing off sooner or later. Now, Orange was living it up to my right. This guy lived and breathed heat. It didn't seem to phase him in the least. In fact, he cracked a couple jokes about how it wasn't hot enough. I threatened to roll the windows up and create a greenhouse effect, but Crick wouldn't let me.
"You guys ever been in such a damned hot place before?" I asked as we could see miles and miles of desert in every direction.
"Maybe Korhal, course that was awhile ago."
"Oh yeah, Korhal. Hell yeah man. Those were the days. If the sun didn't get you, the heat left over in the desert sands would." Orange reminisced.
"Yeah, that planet was such a shit hole." Crick sighed after a time.
Even on Arid Col you could hear stories about Korhal. Where the old Confederate goons wasted the whole planet with nuclear missiles so they didn't have to deal with any one bitching about the way they ran things. Rumor has it you can still bite the dust due to radiation, even though it was like forever since those things detonated. Now all you had left on that planet was... sand... rocks... wasted remains of pretty much anyone who tried to live there. Well, except Zerg. But they could live anywhere, so they don't count.
"What do you think Scratch?" Crick yelled back, successfully neglecting the com link between the three.
Big surprise. Scratch kept his mouth shut. But I guess that's why he was a ghost. They're trained to be silent, not to mouth off every five seconds.
"Yeah, he's still acting like a real Ghost. Don't talk to anybody unless it's really important."
"Member' that time when he used to talk all the time?" Orange began. "Talked until that one guy shot him in the leg when he was on an operation. Shut up since and knows how to stay that way."
Crick let out a hearty laugh and slapped the truck's door a couple of times. Then the heat got oppressive again, and we quieted down. It was probably five minutes later when we reached some mountains. Oh boy! A scene change. How about that? Yeah, slowly the desert wasted away into rocky terrain. The truck had no trouble tackling the inclines, and before we knew it, we were shooting through a canyon. At that point, the road had kind of slipped away. You could tell someone tried to put asphalt down, but the terrain or the heat kept him or her from getting the job done. Then there was the skeletons. None human, but plenty of animals.
"Yo Scratch. Stay alert man Looks like we're heading through a place with some scavenger animals or something." Crick warned.
Hm. Never thought about that, and I was tempted to roll up the windows... but whom was I kidding? I was #$% hot man. No way, I needed the breeze to stay away from heat stroke zone. But I did start to push a little harder on the pedal, so we'd get through the canyon faster. That was wishful thinking.
"Huh?" I muttered.
I was looking pretty hard a couple miles up the road. I swore I saw some flash of metal in the sun. I had my hand over my eyes to act as a cheap visor. I knew I saw something. I wasn't going crazy. Crick took out his cigar that had gone out a while ago and also began to look ahead. He set it on the dashboard so his hands would be freed up to help him lean forward.
"What the hell is that?" I asked.
Up ahead, at the end of the canyon, was a pair of Goliaths acting as roadblocks or something? They didn't have their Autocannons pointed in any one direction, but it was their simple presence that made me get that bad feeling all over. I checked the rearview mirror to see if anyone was coming up behind us. I had a feeling a 180 might be in order. The closer we got, the more crap I could make out among the Goliaths. They had a Siege Tank man! A real live Siege Tank! They also had some grunts too. More guys in Marine outfits. Some Vultures... hell, it was an army.
Crick and Orange could easily see me grip the wheel in apprehension, but didn't say anything. What could I do if they had a Siege Tank? It could go into Siege Mode and blast us as we tried to flee. The range of a Shock Cannon was legendary. I heard some could shoot miles out and leave nothing-left standing. There wasn't anything I could do except slow to a stop right in front of the two Goliaths and stare out through the windshield. The guys standing around like statues began to slowly move into a half circle around the front of the truck. I flipped the truck into reverse, but before I could pound the pedal, Crick stopped me.
"Hold on there." He told me.
I watched as he got out of the passenger side and walked into the center of the half circle they'd set up. Orange took Crick's cigar off the dash and began to smoke it himself. Now, I was a tad more worried than before, seeing as how Orange didn't seem to care his buddy was going to stand up against some Goliaths and a tank by himself.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Smoking. What's it look like?"
I looked back toward Crick. What the hell was going on?
"Hey you assholes. Clear the road, we're trying to get through." Crick yelled.
Now Orange and the whole crew in the way joined in a steady laugh. Laugh? One of the guys in what looked like some Commander's outfit stepped through the crowd and went toe-to-toe with Crick.
"God dammit Private. How many times I gotta tell you to use rank when addressing a superior officer?"
"Yeah yeah. I forget things sometimes."
The Commander gave Crick a good whack over the head.
"Keep this crap up, and we'll forget you out here."
Another round of laughs, well, except me and the commander dude. I'm just sweating my brain out as Crick puts on a stand up comedy hour out in front of the guys who look like they aim to hijack our truck. Of course, that's when Orange decided to speak up.
"Come on. We're just jacking with you. These are our guys. Notice we're all in white?"
Screw all these guys... I would have hit him... if he wasn't packing twin flamethrowers.
"That's not funny man." I told him. "You never said you had a whole army with you."
"Well, we didn't want to draw attention to that town back there before we got on the road. Relax, it's gonna be all convoy-like."
Orange went ahead and explained to me the rest of the outfit they worked with. The commander guy's name was Fahren. No telling if that was his last name or first, it was the only name I had to go on. Fahren used to be a Kel-Morian guy until the UED moved in and started whacking all their business partners. Orange mentioned he was a bit too greedy, and that's why he was kicked out ASAP. Turns out it wasn't too bad of timing for that, since some Zerg forces re-arranged the Kel-Morian's asses shortly afterward. He picked up some scrap left over from that big Zerg offensive I was talking about and began to build up his own crew.
Now they're all mercenaries, and this Fahren guy was their boss. Heh, this guy had the nicest goatee you'd ever see. So much so it almost looked cheesy. Not to mention he was 7 foot something, and towered over everyone else. Then there was his stare. The cold callous stare you'd expect from a serial killer or something. When he talked to someone, like his men or Crick, it was like one of those dark monologues from movies when you know someone is going to die very soon. Thank god he didn't talk to me. Cause I'd pee my pants or something.
It might be too late, but to make a long story shot. We had a convoy set up. A Goliath in the front and the back. The tank led the way and the Vultures acted as a scout crew. They'd check back every now an then in theory. The other Marines and Fahren would follow the rear Goliath in a topless truck. I couldn't say I felt much safer. Because if Derringer didn't say I'd have the whole planet's military resources following me at every turn. That got me thinking...
"Hey, if you got all these guys. Why am I driving the truck?"
I remember asking this question as we left the canyon and reached another endless stretch of desert. Crick was back in the shotgun position, and was currently trying to wrestle his cigar out of Orange's mouth.
"What?" He asked while trying to cradle his gun and take swings at Orange's mouth.
"Why am I at the wheel if you got all these guys? Couldn't Derringer just get one of you guys to drive?"
"Shit man. That's ol' Fahren's paranoia. He doesn't want any of us at the wheel, cause he thinks we'll try something." Orange explained while defecting Crick's large hands.
"Yeah, like what we going to do in a desert with miles of sand in every direction? He's just never had the pleasure of not worrying about glancing over his shoulder. The guy is always looking for some insurance."
"Since you're a civilian. You got no reason to get tricky out here. Cause we'll wax you the moment you screw up." Scratch cut in.
I looked out the side of my window to see Scratch leaning over to look at me upside down. The guy was perched on the top of the truck cab and scared me half to death. Hell, I forgot he was there. But my view was turned around as Orange elbowed me in the face with his bulky Firebat suit. My nose was tingling as I looked over to see Crick had finally gotten his cigar back.
"My smoke, bitch." He cursed.
"Hell, you left it on the dash." Orange defended.
None of them noticed my face was as red as roaring flame. Of course, they probably didn't care now that I think about it. So I grew a spine and sucked it up. Bout time I got tough out here. The sector I mean. With Zerg and the Toss' and scumbags like Arcturus pretending they run the show, no one's gonna worry about killing little old me. Unless, I gave them a reason. .... That would be pretty hard seeing as how the most lethal weapon I got is a six shot revolver that made even the crappiest semi-auto pistol look like a Yamato Gun. Hm... something to think about at least.
And that's basically what you need when you have a long stretch of road out in front of you. Dumb stuff like that sped stuff forward so I didn't even know when it was night time. The tank suddenly pulled off the road and went down into this valley. We had reached some area of the sand that went up and down like waves on the ocean. I turned the truck to follow as the Goliath took up a position at the road to watch for any would be attackers. Of course, who were we going to find out here anyway? I could see through the rear view mirrors that Fahren's crew was following after us, so I figured we were going to set up a pit stop or something.
When the tank stopped to deploy it's Siege Mode, I figured I'd back the truck right behind it. So if it had to go lobbing Shock Cannon rounds all over the place, we'd be safe. Now, in front of us, Fahren's boys were already setting up a perimeter. Then they had some tents going up. I don't know, it was really fast. Pretty calculated bunch. Crick and Orange had just gone to join them as a question popped into my mind.
"Which tent do I sleep in?"
"You get the truck." Crick told me as they slammed the door upon exiting the vehicle.
Oh... Oh boy. I get the truck. I get the hot sweaty seats we'd been sitting down in for the last billion miles. God damn, I know it was literally a billion. But it felt like it. There was something else I thought of I as opened up my door to call to them.
"Do I get any food on this trip?"
"Maybe." Orange shot back.
"Only if you're really good." Crick added.
"Screw you guys." I muttered.
I wasn't tired right off, and watched them bounce around in the night and set up portable spotlights. Man, a lot could fit in that truck. They worked for a good two hours, and then my vision drifted into my rear view mirror. I saw that Scratch was still on top of the trailer. He was making himself comfortable and using his gun as a pillow. Ouch. That guy must eat nails for breakfast or something. I doubt he'd sleep though. I don't know. Just something about him gave me the impression he was on the clock 24/7. Maybe it's all those stories I hear about Ghosts. Probably why.
One thing I couldn't tell you about that night is when I drifted off to sleep. At least I shut off the truck before stretching myself out on the sweaty seats. And if I knew that would be one of the few in the next few days I would be able to sleep, I would have enjoyed it more. Yes, I would have taken those sweaty seats and acted like they were the softest pillows in the world had I known what was about to happen...
-To be continued...
--Next Chapter: Sleep Deprivation
