The Tunnel Rat Syndrome Pt.1
Overkill was infuriated!
His children, the latest unit of Battle Android Troopers, had been violated, and viciously sabotaged! Their daily refill of motor oil to lubricate their joints had been contaminated with common sand and it turned their once juice of life into poison. Their servos seized up and solidified, and as far as Overkill was concerned they were essentially now junk and useless scrap metal. They were unfixable!
"Tunnel Rat!" He snarled under his artificially simulated breath.
When he found the unit of twelve BATS in their storage pods in a storage bay just outside his laboratories in Cobra's base, after taking an hour out to recharge his battery, he found a note attached to one of the BATS chest plates. It said, "Hugs & Kisses -- Tunnel Rat."
He crumpled the piece of paper in his robotic hand.
Tunnel Rat had done this before. Somehow he had infiltrated Cobra without being detected, masquerading as an officer or trooper.
Overkill knew Cobra's security was lax, but this was outrageous!
Cobra Commander had installed one of the most sophisticated hardwire security systems ever to be conceived -- Overkill knew this because he had designed it -- but Tunnel Rat somehow managed to by-pass all the security lockouts.
"You've gone too far this time, Tunnel Rat," Overkill said, caressing the chest plate of one of his BATS, his children dead from something as simple as tiny grains of sand. "But I'll have the last laugh!"
He went back to his lab and to a control panel. He pressed a button and from a secret compartment in the middle of his lab floor rose a cryostatis chamber. The chamber was the same height and length as an average sized man, but just a little larger to accommodate the occupant inside.
"You may have disabled by Battle Android Troopers with sand, Tunnel Rat, but this new prototype will be impervious to any of your childish antics. The ultimate in wet-wire, liquid-metal technology."
Frost hissed out from the sides of the chamber as the door slid open. Overkill waved away the mist and standing there in the chamber asleep was Odin, his greatest achievement in artificial life. Now the world was about to get a taste of what it meant to play with Mother Nature and have technology spit in her face.
The individual in the chamber was naked and had the appearance of a well-bred, muscular, thirty year old, white male. Overkill was meticulous when it came to detail. He wanted to get the look of Odin perfect, so he could blend into human society without being detected. Underneath a layer of artificial skin lay the exo-skeleton of the most sophisticated BAT he had ever conceived with the latest A.I. motherboard, and his newest innovation: replication software, so Odin could replicate and duplicate any weaponry in his memory bank and seen.
Overkill extended his arms in dramatic fashion. "Odin, awake! Your master commands you." He said.
Odin slowly opened his eyes and looked upon Overkill. "Come, stand before me," Overkill said. Odin stepped out of the chamber and stood before him.
Overkill walked around Odin admiring his creation. He then stopped and faced Odin face-to-face. Odin was 6'1. Overkill had given Odin more height because compared to himself he was not of average height. Overkill was half-human and in his previous life he was only 5'8. "You are my greatest creation and I have big plans for you. But first… I want you to kill this man." Overkill pressed a button on his control console and a picture of Odin's target appeared on an overhead monitor. Odin looked at the man and accepted the order. "He's your main objective. But be discreet. I don't want the Joes to know you exist yet."
"As you command, Overkill," Odin said.
Underneath the red cowl that covered the lower half of his face Overkill produced what could only be construed as a sinister, devilish smile.
-
"Pass the ball, TR!" one of his fellow Joes shouted as several members of G.I.Joe were having a friendly basketball game on a court just behind G.I.Joe headquarters. Tunnel Rat saw his teammate, but he also saw one of the opposite team players coming quickly up behind him. So he faked a pass and dodged and weaved through the other teams defense, tossed the ball up, and scored a two-point basket.
He shouted out, "Yes!" and raised his arms in triumphant, but his fellow teammate whom he faked a pass to didn't share his enthusiasm. "Hey! I just scored. We're winning! Why the disgruntled look, Falcon?"
"You're a ball hog, TR, that's what!" Falcon said to him.
"You had a player on your heels and I wasn't going to waste an opportunity to get ahead in the score just to pass the ball to you."
"Being part of a team is sharing."
"I do share, but I wasn't gonna pass the ball to you just to cater to your idea of team-ship if it wasn't necessary."
"What's going on 'ere?" Beach Head came out from the sidelines. He was watching the game. He had no interest in playing. Fourth in command of the G.I.Joe team he was just as much a hardass on-duty as off and he enjoyed exhibiting his authority. "Let's play ball!"
"That's baseball, Beach Head," Outback said. He was playing too.
Beach Head gave him an annoyed look. He turned his attention back to Falcon and Tunnel Rat. "You two--settle your differences some other time. We're in the middle of a game and this is no time for petty squabbles."
"Hey, I'm not the one who started it," Tunnel Rat said.
"I say again, What's the problem here!" he asked in a demanding tone.
"Nothing sir," Falcon answered. "Just pass the ball, 'kay TR?"
"If you're open I will," Tunnel Rat said.
Then the game resumed.
But it didn't take long for Falcon to burst in annoyance at Tunnel Rat's failure to pass the ball to his teammates. And in the last play, as Tunnel Ray weaved through the other teams defense, he bumped Falcon out of the way so he could get a better shot to make another basket. Falcon had had enough and confronted him on the court once again. "What's the hell is with you, TR? You clearly saw that I was open. I'm your teammate for Christ's sake. Pass the ball!"
"You have two left feet when it comes to this game, Falcon," Tunnel Rat said. "I was raised that you either went with the flow or you died a horrible death, and you're cramping my style. I had a change to score and you were in the way. We've been playing for nearly an hour already and you haven't scored once. The benches are getting cold without you."
"What did you say? Stand at attention when you're speaking to a superior officer, Sgt.!" Falcon spoke to him harshly and in a commanding tone. Tunnel Rat did. "You're benched, Tunnel Rat. Hit the showers."
"But sir…"
"Until you learn to respect your fellow teammates you're banned from paying on this court, is that clear!"
Beach Head watched and listened to everything that was going on, and in his opinion, Falcon was doing exactly what he would do. A small smile crept onto his face behind his mask.
Tunnel Rat sighed irritated. "Fine, sir. I'm outta 'ere!" he said, and walked off the court.
Outback watched Tunnel Rat leave and felt remorse for the lost of one of his teammates. He turned to Falcon. "Falcon, you shouldn't have thrown him out of the game like that, he was our best scorer," he said.
"Tunnel Rat has an attitude problem and until he learns to control it and learns to respect his fellow teammates, he doesn't deserve to play with us," Falcon said. "Now let's get back to the game."
And after a short break, the game resumed.
Tunnel Rat made his way to the men's locker room where he showered, then he got dressed into his uniform and went to the cafeteria to grab a bite to eat. Lifeline was sitting at a table alone eating soup and a sandwich so he decided to join him. "Hey Lifeline, what're you doing 'ere all alone? You should be out enjoying yourself instead of sitting 'ere."
"I'm taking a break from one of my experiments," he said, "and being alone helps me to think."
"Think 'bout what?" Tunnel Rat asked.
"Life. Death. And everything in between."
"Man, you're a morbid guy to be around."
"I think about things that interest me, I am a field medic after all."
"But the Joes're on stand-by. You should be out enjoying yourself, not stuck 'ere like the rest of us. I'm only 'ere because I was called on to remain as part of the skeleton crew just in case Cobra tries anything. The rest of the Joes're off vacationing with their families." Tunnel Rat took a bite of a sandwich that he got from the café kitchen. "Cobra hasn't made a move in weeks, it's like they've fallen off the edge of the world. Enjoy the peace and quite. It might not last."
"It's not as easy as that, Tunnel Rat. I just can't drop things on a whim whenever we have a breather from Cobra. I have duties to perform, experiments to conduct, and tons of other things to do. I wish I could be more like you, but I'm afraid if I did, I'd compromise my Hippocratic Oath."
"And what's that suppose to mean?"
"Well, the consensus around the base is that you're a jerk."
"I'm a jerk? Who says that?"
"You're a great field operative, but your personality borders on the pretentious. It's what I like to call the Tunnel Rat Syndrome."
"You named a disease after me? I'm touched, sorta."
"It's not a disease, rather a disorder."
"Well, now I'm officially confused."
"Let me explain. Every one has two sides to their personalities. Freud labeled them as the Id and the Ego. The Id is the identity of a person, while the Ego is in what way that identity is presented towards others. How you present yourself to your fellow Joes is the Ego. You come on strong so your Id becomes suppressed." Tunnel Rat still looked confused. "In other words, your Ego is getting in the way of your Id."
"I'm not the smartest guy in the world, but let me see if I got this right. My fellow Joes think I'm a jerk because I'm trying to be myself?"
"Not exactly," Lifeline said. "You're trying not to be yourself."
"Huh?"
"It's difficult to explain without getting into more specifics and into more of Freud's teachings which I took a course in Cambridge, but--"
Tunnel Rat put up his hands. "No, no. Don't try to explain it any further, Lifeline. You're giving me a headache. I'll figure it out." He leaned his chin in his hand. "So people think I'm jerk, eh? Maybe you're right, Lifeline. But it's how I was brought up. Since I was five years old living in New York I was taught by my father that the only person you could depend on is yourself."
"You're part of a team now, you don't have to think that way anymore. No one is asking you to change on a whim, just be more considerate of others and watch what you say and how you say it."
"I'm the kinda guy who likes speakin' his mind," Tunnel Rat said.
"That's fine, but all in moderation, and use tact."
"Tact, eh?" Tunnel Rat nodded. "No promises, but I'll try."
"As a great warrior once said a long time ago, in a galaxy, far, far away: 'Do or do not, there is no try.'"
Tunnel Rat let out a snicker. "Watch any good sci-fi movies lately?"
"One or two."
Tunnel Rat took another bite of his sandwich when someone shouted his name, "Yo, Tunnel Rat!" Tunnel Rat turned 180 degrees. It was Chuckles. And he was wearing that god-awful blinding Hawaiian shirt that he always wore. Tunnel Rat didn't have the foggiest reason why the man choose to wear such a terrible shirt. But no one had the heart to tell Chuckles how bad it looked, and with the size of the man, no one even dared.
"Chuckles, over 'ere, dude," Tunnel Rat said. Chuckles came over. "Just eating some grub, care to join us? If that's okay with you, Lifeline?"
"That's alright," he said. "I think I've had enough alone time."
"Is there something I oughta know about you two?" Chuckles said jokingly. Then he quickly dropped it. "General Hawk is looking for you, Tunnel Rat. He sent me to find you. When you weren't at the basketball game on the back court, I thought I oughta look for you here. I knew you'd be here. You eat like a pig and never gain a pound."
"My metabolism's fast and I'm short. As soon as I eat it, it doesn't need alotta time to be broken down. What's the four star hauser want?"
"Don't know," Chuckles said. "He just wants to see you a.s.a.p."
"Oh man, probably heard about the fight I had with Falcon on the court."
"You had a fight with Falcon?" Lifeline asked.
"Yeah, and the consensus is, that he's a jerk too!"
--
Author's Note: I'll continue it… when I get around to it. But in the meantime, I'm going to it ferment here. I just didn't want to accidentally delete it from my hard drive. It has the potential to be a really good story.