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Nova Wars Chapter 183

Novel: Nova Wars Author: Ralts Bloodthorne Updated:
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Now reading: Chapter 183 from Nova Wars, a Sci-fi novel by Ralts Bloodthorne.

The perfidy of the bureaucrat is beyond normal man's comprehension. - Age of Exploration, TerraSol

Nothing should instill fear like a clock punching functionary with a plan. - Age of Warlords, TerraSol

Welco to BobCo Warehouse, I love you. - Door Greeters, Age of Paranoia, TerraSol

Pan'nikk ran his hand around inside his locker just to check to see if he had left anything behind, then straightened up.

SGT Malice, who'd been assigned to help Pan'nikk, checked, then hung a seal on the door of the locker and signed off on it.

"Clear," Malice said.

Pan'nikk thought it was slightly amusing that the NCO with that na had one of the nicest sounding human voices he had ever heard.

A check of the clothing locker. A check of the bunk. Turning in parts.

Outside, the fighting for the planet was still raging. The Ornislarp were defeated, but that didn't an they were completely beaten across the planet. There was still holdouts, units that hadn't gotten the orders, and commanders that thought that one brave last stand just might turn total defeat into victory sohow.

A quick dical check by the resident reddish colored mantid, then a check over by the greenie in charge of cybernetics.

All checked off.

SGT Malice looked at Pan'nikk's orders.

"Hmm, you're supposed to stay as part of Six-Two until you rejoin the Telkan Marines," he said. He hmm'd for a second.

The faint sound of tallic tapping reached Pan'nikk's ears and he knew it so smartass trying to get through the mobile firebase's armor with kinetic spears.

"Is that unusual?" Pan'nikk asked.

"Hmm, I'm not sure," Malice shrugged. "Anyway, the LT made sure your award letters are attached for approval by the Telkan Marine Corps. You've got your expeditionary dal, your planetary assault ribbon. Your Ornislarp Campaign ribbon. Hamburger King's Unit Citation. Your Scout Combat Badge. Your Expert Scout Badge," he tapped the list. "Bronze Cluster with V-device, two awards. Crimson Stripe, three awards."

Pan'nikk was slightly surprised.

"Finally, you get your authorization to wear Scout Boots and Pathfinder Beret in formation and as part of your daily uniform," Malice said. He looked up. "You have almost no awards prior to this."

"Non-combat deploynts. They're on a different section of the sash," Pan'nikk said.

"Field Sergeant (P) Pan'nikk, no initials," SGT Malice said. He slapped the side of the datapad. "Ah, there we go," he looked it up and down. "Huh."

"What?" Pan'nikk asked.

"Infantry School, Expert Infantry Badge, Expert Field Infantry Badge, Powered Armor Infantry Badge, Expert Powered Armor Infantry Badge," Malice looked up and Pan'nikk caught the faint amber glow for a split second. "No scout schooling?"

Pan'nikk shook his head. "No, my armor was heavy assault infantry by Confederate standards."

"Huh. Hopefully Confed doesn't take away your scout badges," Malice snapped the datapad closed. "OK. You're clear. Shuttle leaves in an hour. Be on it."

"What about my armor?" Pan'nikk asked.

"Your choice. Want us to transfer the eVI and toss it in the grinder or you want to keep it?" Malice said, walking with Pan'nikk toward the vehicle bay of the massive stadium sized mobile firebase.

"That's a tough one. I don't know if command will let keep it. It got heavily modified," Pan'nikk said.

"OK, we'll reassign Treefrog and your greenie, toss the suit into the grinder, run you off a new one based on the template the engineers made of your armor when you arrived," Malice said. He paused. "Good luck, Sergeant."

"You too, Sergeant," Pan'nikk said.

A tap to his datalink and the line appeared in mid-air to guide him to the small cantina next to the vehicle bay.

He did stop by the Base Exchange nanoforge alcove to print out a Pathfinder Beret and a pair of Scout Boots before throwing the old/new boots into the grinder after he tucked his hat into a pocket.

The beret felt good. Black, with an insignia of a winged flaming torch on a shield on the insignia section. He took a minute near one of the reflective tal wall panels to make sure it was on properly.

It was one of the few pieces of headgear permitted to be worn in a building.

When he got to the cantina he dialed up a BobCo Tropical THUNDER THUNDER THUNDER energy drink and so ants on a log to snack on.

Three swallows in and he started getting the shakes as he ate the peanut butter filled celery with a line of raisins on top. Five swallows in and the shakes went away.

All according to keikaku, he snickered to himself.

He had to admit, one thing he was going to miss was the sheer absurdity of off duty. The Telkan Marines were still very formal and very regulation bound even off duty.

Here, he had watched third squad as they had perford sothing called "The Oddessy" with sock puppets made from used socks that had been grabbed up before they had been tossed in the grinder or in the laundry.

The sock puppet of Odorissues saying "We n are wretched things!" with googly eyes and string hair still made him laugh to think about.

After a few minutes there was a pink triangle with a white exclamation point that suddenly appeared above the table. A second later it cleared up into Treefrog's identifier.

"Hey, boss! I wanted to say good luck. I wanted to go with you, but then 2209 reminded that you Telkans don't use things like ," Treefrog said, his voice high with excitent. "They're assigning to PFC Pinion."

This tale has been pilfered from . If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"I thought he had an eVI," Pan'nikk said.

"He was borrowing Staff Sergeant Grummin's warboi while he got his feet under him for his first deploynt. Dominion doesn't like putting too many boots together at once, we tend to trip over each other," Treefrog said, his words running over each other. "Oop! Gotta go! Good luck, boss!"

"Thank, you too, Froggy," Pan'nikk smiled.

Treefrog's image vanished.

Pan'nikk just checked his datalink.

Fifteen minutes before the shuttle arrived. Ten minutes before he had to get up and head for the bay.

At the five minutes until he had to get up mark 2209 ca in, climbed up on the table and stared at him for a long ti.

"What?" Pan'nikk asked.

2209 stood still for a mont, then tapped the table. A text box appeared next to him, projected from the table's holo-emitters.

--be careful--

"I'm going ho. I'll be fine," Pan'nikk said.

--colonel henry thought sa thing-- 2209 said. --not go good for him--

"I don't recognize the reference," Pan'nikk said.

--philistine--

That made Pan'nikk laugh.

--be careful had bad dream you dead-- 2209 said. --bad dream you dead without --

Pan'nikk just nodded.

--see you-- 2209 said, turning and moving away.

"Rember you math tables," Pan'nikk said, smiling.

Still, he had a little flutter in his gut as he watched the foot tall green mantid scurry out of the room.

He had two minutes left.

He just sighed, grabbed his beret and put it on, then headed to the bay.

The door whooshed open with only fifty seconds to spare after he got hung up by a work party moving mass hoses. The shuttle was still disembarking passengers. Their ID's popped up as soon as they got off the gangplank from the shuttle's interior.

All boots. Even a green lieutenant.

As they moved past him the boots gave the "Fast Road, Field Sergeant" greeting of the day. Pan'nikk nodded at the officer and went "live fire area, sir," to remind the lieutenant that it was a non-saluting area.

Even in the mobile fire base.

Because habits ford.

The lieutenant started to open his mouth but the snarling crackle of the battlescreen outside intercepting sothing stopped him. He glanced back, over his shoulder, at the open access port in the ceiling.

Beyond, the amber battlescreen was visible, with runes flaring on it, obscuring the gray skies.

The lieutenant kept going and Pan'nikk breathed a sigh of relief. An officer could insist on the salute if he wanted, make a deal out of it that would have to go to a superior officer, over the salute they were due.

Pan'nikk knew of a few Telkan Marine officers who would insist, since the chances of a sniper or an HK drone inside the shuttle bay was slim. Not none, there was always a chance an HK drone slipped through with the shuttle.

His line went green and he picked up his satchel, heading onto the shuttle. He sat down in the seat with the green checkmark above it, then waited while a crew mber checked his restraints.

"Telkan warship is in system. We'll be dropping you there," the crewman, an Ensign (Junior Grade) said. "Apparently Confed is calling back all the Telkan Marines. So kind of incident where an Admiral lost like an entire regint."

Pan'nikk shrugged. "All right."

Others got on. Nobody he recognized, so he didn't worry about it. Still, out of the fifty seats in the shuttle slash dropship, only a dozen or so were filled.

A few calming mantras and he managed to slip into a nap.

He woke to the Ensign tapping him.

"We're here," the Terran said.

"Thanks, Ensign," Pan'nikk said, undoing the restraints.

"That's what we're here for, Sergeant."

Pan'nikk followed the little dusting of blue motes to the hatch and then down the gangplank.

On the other side were Telkan, so from the Corps, but mostly it looked like civilians. A quick look around the dropship bay told Pan'nikk it wasn't a Space Force or Navy vessel, it was a civilian ship.

A guy in suit ca up. "You Pan'nikk?" He checked the device on his wrist that looked like an anachronistic tipiece.

"Field Sergeant Pan'nikk, yes," Pan'nikk said.

"Whatever. Follow and don't dawdle," the civilian said.

The IDs on the civilians were fuzzed out, making Pan'nikk frown.

He was quickly led through cramped, tight passages with stencils that almost felt wet. His guide led him to a small stateroom that had a desk, a chair, a dresser, and a bed, without enough floor space to fully pull out the chair. The civilian checked the wrist device again.

"Have a seat," the civilian said, pointing at the chair. "I'll brief you as soon as you sit down."

Pan'nikk pushed down his irritation as he turned and sat down.

"You are still currently assigned to the Solarion Iron Dominion forces," the civilian said.

"Yes. Apparently I'll be reassigned by the Corps later."

"Excellent," the civilian said.

"Now what?" Pan'nikk asked, looking up.

"We're going to be doing a test, Field Sergeant," the civilian said.

He tapped the device on his wrist and Pan'nikk felt his body lock up. He could hear a high pitched whine and a burning tingling filled his spine.

The civilian pulled a pistol from out of his jacket. He checked it once, then leveled it at Pan'nikk's face.

"We're going to see if you can take the fast way back to Telkan-2."

The civilian pulled the trigger.

Pan'nikk heard his skull break from the slug.

Then darkness.

...

...

...

DO NOT BE ALARD

YOU ARE BEING IDENTIFIED

YOU ARE IDENTIFIED AS MILITARY

PAN'NIKK - NO OTHER NAS

TELKAN MALE - NON-SOLARIAN

TELKAN ORIGIN

CAUSE OF DEATH: VIOLENCE

ADDITIONAL CIRCUMSTANCE: MILITARY

YOU ARE BEING ENQUEUED

THERE IS NO CAUSE FOR ALARM

...

...

...

YOU ARE NOW ABOUT TO BE PROCESSED

He was falling.

He was burning.

He was screaming in fear and pain as he plunged down through the atmosphere. Around him hundreds, thousands, millions of other cots streaked down through the dead night sky, balls of screaming fire.

The impact was so intense he felt his cells explode, turning him into a puddle of goo without even a single intact cell. The goo burbled and bubbled as Pan'nikk kept screaming in agony.

Slowly, painfully, his cells reconstructed.

The first thing he did, as an amorphous blob at the bottom of the hole shaped just for him, was scream. A long, undulating howl of agony and fear.

He sat up from the hole, his arms bound to his sides by thick leather belts. An iron cage on his head. Nails through his feet and hands. A crown of rusted nails jamd onto his head. He had no fur, just glistening jiggling fatty tissue for skin that rippled in pain as the very air scorched and savaged the exposed nerves.

Cinders rained down around him, with motes of brimstone floating down in burning amber flakes. Smoke that reeked of burning blood and scorched iron filled the air.

He lunged up, threw his head back, and howled in agony. He climbed out of the hole and then turned and looked at it.

It was made for him.

He knew this.

He threw back his head and roared out his agony again.

Images went through his shattered mind.

Every ti he was deliberately an spirited. Every ti he was carelessly cruel. Every ti he had betrayed another to his own benefit. Every lover he had spurned. Every friend he had climbed over. Every ti he had dishonored his family or his na. Every ti he had been cowardly. Every ti he had lacked the courage to stand up for those weaker than him and/or what was right.

Each mory, each image, was a broken fragnt of a mirror showing his life that slashed at his mind with sharp edges and jagged points.

He was running. Bouncing off things in his way as he slamd into them at full speed, howling out the depths of his suffering.

A single word cut through it all.

"Stop."

He stopped, suddenly.

A Terran woman stood before him, one hand held out. She was dressed in an iron gray skirt and blouse, with a pin on the lapel. She wore white gloves and had her glossy black hair in a tight bun. Her shoes were solid, dependable, and sensible.

Her eyes were guntal grey and smoldered with hatred.

"Admin override. Suspend processes."

The Terran woman took a drag from a Treana'ad smokestick, exhaled bluish smoke that slled of hot blood and suffering, then stepped through the cloud.

She was slightly taller than Pan'nikk, aning she was short for a Terran woman.

She touched Pan'nikk's forehead.

"Reset mory pointer. Sixty seconds prior to cessation of life signals and SUDS upload."

Pan'nikk wanted to scream but no longer felt the desire to scream. He hurt all over but the pain was gone.

He saw code stream up across her eyes, written in fiery runes the size of the head of a pin.

He saw her snarl as she removed her fingertips from her fevered brow.

"Sleep, little one."

She touched him again, just two fingertips, as she exhaled smoke again, this ti from her barely parted crimson lips.

The smoke swirled around him, covered him.

Everything went dark again as the pain was gone.

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