The Hardcore Trilogy (Part 1)

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Heretic
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The Hardcore Trilogy (Part 1)

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Private First Class Jimmy Pandax of the Lotrus, Region 3, Army division was scared as hell. As the orbital troopship rumbled into the atmosphere, he couldn't stop thinking about the hell he got into.

Join the Lotrus Army, the recruiter said. Good pay, top-notch education, Exotic new places! To a High School graduate like Pandax, wearing the Totenkopf military coveralls with the awesome chest armor and ear-covering helmet, marching with the steel-toed boots in parades and stuff was a dream. No one ever said anything about getting inside a dark, cramped, stinky OTS (Orbital Troop Ship) with 50 other soldiers cramped in 5 columns, their metallic chest armor touching each other's, going to a planet caught in the middle of the spatial battlelines between the Tyxan and the Gloguk, with a 50/50 chance of dying.

"10 minutes approx. to touchdown on base." The computerized female voice said. Private First Class Pandax shuffled a bit to the side, as his front and back were enclosed by two other soldiers waiting.

This totally sucks. Jimmy thought to himself gloomily. Sure, there might not be any attack, or maybe there might just be a few skirmishes miles away from where his whole company will be stationed, but if rumors from gossiping intel minions were true, a couple of Votkers (the elite of the killer-psychic soldiers) are coming with whole divisions of Zvars (elite of the elite soldiers) and hordes of Hephons (ranks including elite specialist soldiers), not a healthy encounter for a kid just out of high school.

"9 minutes approx. to touchdown on base." The computerized voice said. Jimmy sighed a very faint air burst. The whole ship was shaking. They reached orbit, and good old oxygen was doing some physics on them. And Jimmy's butt itched. And due to the person behind him, he couldn't reach his arm back to get inside his pants and itch it. Maybe he should ask the dude behind him to itch for him. Nahh... Jimmy gave another, irritated sigh.

"8 minutes approx. to touchdown on base." No matter many times he rode in one of these during basic training, Jimmy never got used to the annoying computerized female voice and the cramped OTS. No matter what.

"7 minutes approx. to touchdown on base." Jimmy really wanted to itch his rear, but physically couldn't right now. So, in hopes of keeping his mind off the itch, he visualized the mission. "Hunker down in your garrisons until shit happens" were the orders from their blunt briefing officer. "And when shit happens, ruin the shit out the Tyxans." Basically in more appropriate terms was that Jimmy's company was to fortify a southeast sector of the evacuated metropolis. Hell, the only city in the planet. Jimmy tried to remember the name of the city and planet. Sandan City, Sandan? Very original, colonists.

"6 minutes approx. to touchdown on base." Damnit, my ass burns! He gritted his teeth. Maybe if he could somehow wiggle the muscles of his rear on a surface, the culprit of this itch would go away. But, without a surface and his pack inside the OTS's storage compartment, there was nothing but the soldier behind him. Nah...

"5 minutes approx. to touchdown on base." The engines of the OTS, previously a low drone, got louder. Time to decelerate and go in for a soft landing. Jimmy thought maybe he should just try to reach back and itch, but decided not to. The whole troop compartment was so cramped, that if he reached back there, he might touch the balls of the soldier behind him. So, he went back to thinking hard on something. Girls maybe. But, what he went on to thinking was a nice back scratcher, going down to...

NO! Jimmy gritted his teeth some more. The itch was irresistible. Jimmy continued thinking of ways to get that ass itch out.

"4 minutes approx. to touchdown on base." He could now feel his ears pop. He searched for some gum in his waist pocket...

and got the idea! Ecstatic, Jimmy reached down into his pockets. Why didn't he think of that before? As he touched the edge inside, he reached for the outline of his underwear and itched there. Much better. Then, taking a military-issued cherry gum stick as he withdrew his hand, he opened it up and tossed it into his mouth triumphantly. Even in this cramped place, the itch shall never prevail.

"3 minutes approx. to touchdown on base." His ears popped back to normal.

"2 minutes approx. to touchdown on base." The gum started losing taste already. Despite future advancements in technology, the Lotrus didn't care for the longevity of the gum. As long as it gave the initial burst of flavors and made the soldier focus, they could make as much cheap gum as they want. Now Jimmy wished for an Uber-Chew. Those lasted for a whole damn day. As he looked around, he saw many of the other soldiers doing the same.

"1 minutes approx. to touchdown on base." One minute. Just one more minute until touchdown, and things could have gone perfectly for Jimmy Pandax, PFC of the Lotrus Army, Region 3, Army Division. But, as the OTS slowly died down its engines as the distance between ground shortened, the soldier behind Jimmy sneezed. Without looking down or covering his nose. Just sneezed straight forward. Snot slapped onto Jimmy's neck. He stiffed. The cold ooze slowly slid down his back. Quickly, he grabbed a napkin from his pocket and reached back to clean it. An "Excuse me, sorry" was promptly stated from the man behind. Soldiers around him glanced, and some snickered, before looking straight back.

This totally sucks. Jimmy sent all his bad mojo vibes onto the soldier behind him, hoping that the New Age stuff was true and the sneezer gets cursed.

As the OTS gave a final thud as it reached down, everyone gave a universal, silent sigh. The ramp slowly opened and fell forward, showing huge chromatic grids and two other OTS, their cargo disembarking. As the ramp fell forward, the soldiers marched down the steps and into the twilight air. The sky was orange, with dark purplish clouds. The sun was being enveloped by distant mountains that were shadowed. Pandax gave a deep breath as he inhaled and exhaled fresh air.

His platoon went around the sloped-winged box with a beaked cockpit on front that was the OTS, and on both sides, parts of the walls opened up. Jimmy went on one side to get his backpack. The packs were green metal rectangular frameswith a plastic cover on it. On the top edge of the backpack's "front" was a metal label with names carved on. Jimmy looked around, and upon finding on with the imprinted words J. Pandax, took it by one of the slings, and heaving it towards him, dragged it around the OTS to get his weapons. On the other side were lots of gun racks with all sorts of guns neatly organized. He saw a long-barreled bullpup-magazine battle rifle with the standard built-in square optic sights in the front. Taking it, he slung it around his left shoulder. Jimmy also found a V.4 Compact Pistol and holstered it in the holster which was attached to the belt he had on. Then, getting into a marching column with his gear, he followed his platoonto the walled barracks.

As they marched through the gravel road, Jimmy examined the walled-fortress-barracks. Mammoth steel and concrete hybrid walls, with AA and AT turrets on each interconnecting keep. The gate was mammoth as well, its sides housing automated machine gun nozzle emplacements, able to move around with its ballish-body protruding halfway through the walls. The huge gate slowly slid sideways into itself, allowing massive numbers of troops and vehicles to go inside. And within the walls was like a city. A very square city of various square buildings. And each entrance at the buildings had a sign indicating what they were in huge black letters. Many were offices and barracks, but some were canteens and gyms. Jimmy's company went to a four story barrack. A very generic boring white barrack with identical windows and flat roof. As they marched inside, Jimmy also realized how boring the inside was as well. Clear tile floor and white walls. No pictures, identical doors, and the commons area at the bottom just had a few coffee tables, some couches and sofas, and wooden chairs punched together in an organized fashion staring at a telescreen.

"Halt!" Their platoon officer, Lt. Denny Harder, shouted. The whole 45-man platoon halted. "Drop gear!" Everyone dropped their packs down behind them. The rest of the whole company, two other platoons, came in and marched neatly next to them and dropped their gear as well when their commanding officer ordered them to. Jimmy and the rest of the whole company stood straight in attention. A grizzled man with a cowboy hat on him came to.

"Alright, boys. At ease." The men still stood in attention, but some lowered their shoulders. "As you know, I'm Major David Beerscot, commanding officer of this whole company. This is the first time we met. Let me give you a quick rundown on the objective we are here to do." Major Beerscot went to the telescreen. As he went near it, the telescreen flashed and turned blue, showing the red Totenkopf of the human military. A screen popped up showing a high-rising metropolis with aerial roads and monorails. Pretty huge.

"This, ladies and gentlemen, is Sandan City. Despite being the only city in this colony planet, it is the size of two New York Cities!" Some of the off-planet borne people looked confused. The major, catching this, explained. "Two very huge cities. New York City is in Earth." Most widened their eyes and nodded in understanding. The major walked back and forth, in a circle as he continued. "For some odd reason, The Tyxans and the Greeg Dominants seem to have their eye on this here rock." A few of the soldiers jolted. No briefing ever said Greeg Dominants. The major took note of that, too. "Oh yes, while you pawns were flying down here, we just got a report that a forward outpost deep inside our side of the No Man's Space has been built. A bunch of warlords coming through to yank it from the Tyxans if they take over. But, those space elves won't be able to take Sandan because of one insy winsy problems:

"We are here existing and making all the pointy-eared strategists' plans imposible! We, the Gloguk's local apes, are here to go apeshit crazy on those elves and make the Tyxans wish their mommy and daddy gave a second thought before screwing around and giving birth to the sorry shits!" The soldiers howled and applauded. Jimmy too was motivated by that rant. The major gave a satisfactory smile as he continued. The cheering stopped.

"In all seriousness, yeah, that's what's happening. Our job is to go in there and garrison this section." The telescreen showed a top-side view of the city, showing more low-rising skyscrapers. A monorail station was on the pedestrian walkways, about a miles above ground. "We will be stationed in this section. First and Second level. We will go and station there next week. A still operational airtrain connecting here to Sandan City will take us to our sections. Nice apartment zones around there, so we should be shooting and fighting in luxury." Thand e company chuckled. The major clicked his video screen remote and the screen went blank. "But for now, we are gonna stay here and get accustomed to the place. We have a few Vgar Ki tribal warriors under our wing, so no racism of any sort is allowed here. Remember, this isn't sci-fi where the humans are in charge. We are roaming around free only because some alien overlord decided that humans made good planet killers. So watch your mouth." After the dismissal, the company dispersed, some going outside to the fortress barracks and check it out. Jimmy took his pack and rifle and checked the roster on the computer to see who his room-mates were. Each room housed three soldiers because space was needed for equipment. Jimmy frowned. He had Andrew Seeven, an colony-borned soldier in his basic training class, and a real philosopher, and Tche-vee, a Vgar Ki warrior. Jimmy sighed as he moved away from the computer so that others can use it and headed up the flight of stairs to his room number, hoping that Andrew wouldn't go on a mystical insight philosphical daydream romantic lecture as he sometimes do, and he hoped the Vgar Ki wasn't carving up an alien pig in an open primitive fire using an ancient SCAR assault rifle bayonet...

...And shit, Jimmy thought as he went into a smokey and smelly room, the Vgar Ki was cooking two eight-footed pigs in a solar oven, opening parts of the meats with a Mosin Nagant bayonet, very long. And next to the dark green lizard was Andrew, a blond Aryan who seemed to have came out from a 1930s Nazi poster. Youthful, sharp, handsome.

"...I mean, really. If you were blind and felt the door without knowing it's, would you know it's a door? What if you never knew the concept of a door and touched it? Would it still be a door? Would the door be a door even if you aren't there seeing and feeling it, or is doorliness just an illusion?" The lizard seemed to not care, looking more closely to his very meaty meat.

"I dohn'tt care, humann." The Vgar Ki hissed. "A door cahn be a pig for all I care. But when I get back and sseee the door, it better be a doohrr again. Actually, it can ssstill sstaay ass a pig for all Ih care. I could roasst the pig, door or no door." Some of the Vgar Ki's H's were heavy. As Pandax walked in, both of them looked up. Nazi Poster Propoganda Philosophical Pretty Boy got up with a smile and extended his arms as he approached him.

"Pandax!" He gave poor Jimmy a hug, forcing the luggage to drop. "Welcome to Sandan! I didn't think I would have you as a roommate! Me and the Vgar Ki were having a fine discussion about the human min...I mean, the sentient mind." He gave a glance to the Vgar Ki, who was still turning the pigs around over the portable oven. "The Vgar Ki are very materialistic in general it seems. They can go pay lip service to Jesus H. Christ, Fat Buddha, Jew Man, Beard Man, Xenu, Spaghetti Alien, whoever, and their spiritual views and the general disdain for the physical world, but then two minutes later the lizards do a 180 turn and squabble over the most trivial of trinkets. I don't believe they can perceive anything higher than food and sex." Jimmy gave an eyebrow. Nazi Poster Propoganda Philosophical Pretty Boy he was, Jimmy thought. Andrew looked down at Jimmy's luggage. "Oh, let me take those!" He went down and lifting up the private's stuff, went out to the closet. Private Pandax went next to the Vgar Ki, and sat down. The smoke from the pig was rich in flavor.

"Lhesle, Tche-Vee." Jimmy said. The Vgar Ki looked up and nodded.

"Lhesle, human." Tche-Vee flicked his tongue and went back examining the meat. "Food almosst rheady. Would you like ah piece?" Pandax nodded. Tche-Vee, using his bayonet, carved up a chunk of pig, and grabbing a ceramic square plate, slopped the roast on it. As he handed it to the private, Andrew came back.

"Jimmy, after you are done, I think we should congratulate this wonderful fortune! It's rare for basic training classmates to be assigned together, especially in a galaxy as large as this!" He palmed two 12-packs of beer, one balacing on both hand. Jimmy gulped.

"I don't think..." But Andrew interrupted, roughly placing the beer cases down as he sat next to Jimmyand grabbed a plate.

"Nonsense!" He said. "I know, I know: 'But that's against Lotrus protocal.' Well, guess what, buddy?" The blond hair blue eyed 20 something corporal said as he handed his plate for the Vgar Ki to plaster with pig brains, "only humans have that regulation! And besides," Andrew stopped as he chomped on the pig and popped open a cold one, which helped chug the meat down, "this is R&R in a safe fortress. We will be deployed to the city in a week. Until then, let's live life! Help the war effort and get laid by women so that the next generation won't have a shortage of soldiers!" He laughed and handed Private Pandax a beer, even giving the Vgar Ki one. The three popped open their cans, and holding it up, pledged to kill a thousand "elves and orcs" before gulping it down...


A few hours later, Pandax and Seeven were reclining on chairs out in their balcony, gazing at the stars. DIstant partying was going on down below, as cheers and whoots echoed across. It seemed like no one cared for the rules just quite yet, and decided to taste some booze.

"I can't believe there was a time back then humans for sure know that aliens existed." Andrew sighed as he placed his hands behind his next. Pandax, who sat next to him, just nodded. "The sense of loneliness gave humans the urge to create their own aliens in fiction. They wanted to believe that humans weren't alone in the universe.The books, games, and movies back then had mostly a human focus, because frankly, they had no other reference. And I believe deep down that the superego in them yearned that when they got out and met other races, the humans were superior and important to the universe, because as they look up and see the vastness in space, in reality, they felt small and wanted to compensate for it. Thus, humans were a big focus." He smiled. "I remember as a kid always listening to old conspiracy theory talk shows. About how reptillian race, a superpower, came down to Earth and bred with us, and basically making Earth a center of events. Stargates, spiritual space auras, benign space elders, all came here, the loons said. We were believed important, back then. But when Contact came, reality struck: Humans won't be the center of the galaxy, we won't lead the Great Federation or whatever, and the reptillians of lore..." A crash came from behind as both men looked back. Tche-Vee was stumbling and wobbling, a martini glass in one hand, a slipper in the other, wearing a purple sleep robe, a top hat, and monocles.

"Hey, fagsss!" The Vgar Ki slurred as he came to the men, "dhownsstairrs...there's...a party of roleplayers. I'm acting like a qhuintissssential Brit from olden human timess, trying to buy Indian whoress, bloody hhell! And Matthewsss Eckelberry, dat..." The lizard leaned forward,"..dat sniper human thing is playing an Americun blowing up mud huts because Chinaman, playhed by sssoome driver, toohk his jobbs allongside the Mexicansss. We need some people to actt like Vgar Ki warriorss basshing each other 's brainz for ssomething called an PSP. Man, those Vgar Ki are whacked. Glad none of us are themm, ehh, ladss? Jolly goodssss timess. Nohw, I musst go and meet some fine lassses down at HQsss. Make fine egg-layerss, I heard. Ta-Ta!" Then the lizard towered forward, his eyes flickering, and collapsed on the floor, wine staining the floor. Both Andrew and Jimmy gaped silently. Then Andrew coughed.

"...are ignorant schizo-tech sex machines who can't keep their hands off booze." Andrew muttered as both men got up to help the lizard to bed.
Computers are like Old Testament gods; lots of rules and no mercy.
-Joseph Campbell
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