This story was written by Cooper Cerulo. It is the central plotline for the BOA: Substance interactive comics, premiering in February '06
The Dim light shined through the blinds into his eyes. Squinting, he tried to pull the blanket over his face
Damn…
Jason Bruce sat up in bed. His head throbbed as he shifted his head to the right. The alarm set on his desk read what he feared: 1:25 PM.
Damn, Damn…
He rarely had a slip like this, but this morning was excusable he supposed. Jason struggled to remember what he had done last night. He had just arrived back from the last trip “US covert MIS 1264” and had decided to celebrate…by himself…at the bottom of quite a few bottles.
Ah, the life of a colonial marine. Life really wasn’t so bad for Bruce. He was at the top of his game. A military killing machine and only 28 years old. A baby, really. When you could kill like Bruce, you answered to no one. And the pay wasn’t bad either…
Buzz…
Bruce flipped on his plasma screen TV and proceeded to watch the afternoon Newscast. He rarely was around to see this program, on so late in the afternoon. Regular military operations called him to be out of bed and dressed at 4:45am, but when one drinks like a Hudson River trout, the bugle sounds a little later. It was a balmy summer day in New York City. The 1:30 broadcast greeting him cheerfully
“Welcome Lieutenant Jason Bruce; today is June 17th, 2155 welcome to the 1:30 Afternoon newscast!”
Bruce groaned. A hangover at this point in his life was almost a new experience all over again. How could he have drunk so much? Where? He wondered, but soon stopped when he realized that he would be shipping off once again in 11 days. Who knows what ***** up operation the US Military would send him on next? No wonder he drank so much on time off, he didn’t know how much **** longer it would be before one of his military ships exploded, or some ****** clipped him when he least expected. The last mission even seemed standard enough. Military operations sent him out to the Sector 76 asteroid belt where there had been reportedly terrorist activity around the asteroid mines. Terrorism against the US government (who had been making heinous amounts of money on this new mining frontier) had picked up quite a bit in the last few months. Something to do with the quick expansion of the sector belt fronts, and not enough security led to ****** bombing ships and innocent mining union workers. Things cleared up real **** quick when Uncle Sam’s red-blooded knights showed up though. Bruce had killed countless offending terrorists by rifle or attack ship; and actually relished the opportunity. Out in space, where Bruce almost always was assigned; he was the entire US Justice system. His team had the authority to kill anyone they deemed a terrorist, there were no **** courts out in Sector 76!
This mission however was different. Unexpectedly the ****** had hit him and his team before they even expected it; preempting them at Sector 76 Beta Station. They posed as engineers, and even had all the proper conformation codes. But when Bruce’s team arrived they got a very unexpected surprise…
Bruce groaned; his shoulder definitely still hurt. The alcohol had helped last night, but now the truth came roaring back. He pulled back his shirt and saw his skin burned. It was charred and blackish-blown, with a small black portion of his bone sticking through his skin.
Those ******…
In the preemptive strike the terrorists assaulted Bruce’s team with their liquid plasma rifles. Plasma had to be used in Space Station situations. Although bullets were still standard in the US Military, if you used those on a space station you would soon be floating in the great beyond. And no one wanted to die in space, it was the coldest and easily most excruciating way to die that anyone could imagine. The offenders took out Stanton and Michaels before Bruce could even react. He didn’t even have to look to see their face melting, he could smell it. He didn’t have to fumble with his gun as he left the boarding hatch third in line. He had heard the distinct *ping* sound of plasma, and had already extracted his gun. Before the men could shoot him even, he freed his over hand and threw his field knife into the neck of the larger one on the left. With that man dead, Bruce did a quick half somersault to the left and burned the other man’s face off with his plasma rifle. The other terrorists, hiding in the control room in their cowardice, were mercilessly killed by the rest of his team before they had the chance to lock the door.
But now, thought Bruce, time to fight an even tougher battle…my hangover.
By now Bruce had made it to his kitchen and flicked on the light. He still winced in pain from the shoulder burn he had received in the last mission. As well as he dispatched those two men, they were trained, and got him square in the shoulder with plasma. Not to worry however, he would have the skin repaired by tomorrow at Bellevue. He began chugging his purified water when the phone rang.
****
He tapped it on, and sure enough, Brigadier General Barnes was staring him in the face.
“Bruce…Report.
“Sir, personal day 1345 hours!”
A small smirk from the general. He hesitated:
“Rough night last night Bruce?”
Bruce lowered his eyes a bit and then remarked, “Killing beer like I kill S76 offenders, what can I say?”
They both laughed. Barnes was a ball-breaker, but also loved Bruce like a son. After all, the Lieutenant had quickly risen to one of the top Rangers in the US Space program. And he certainly deserved a day off.
“Your Presence is Requested.” Said the General
“Sir?”
The general suddenly turned serious “I don’t have much time too talk right now Bruce, get your ass down here. USSTAT at Pier 17. We have a code 999” And just like the video com clicked off.
Bruce blinked in astonishment. He had never been assigned to a code 999. They were reserved for even more experienced rangers than himself. A code 999 ranger went into Deep Space. Bruce had barely made it outside the Solar System. Code 999 Rangers went star systems, even Galaxies away. They didn’t have families. They didn’t often return. They dealt with one thing…the extermination of extraterrestrial life.
Bruce of course knew everything about all the life forms that man has discovered in outer space. Even since space travel was revolutionized with Hyperspace bending technologies in the late 21st century, man had prowled star systems and alien galaxies for minerals and outposts. He thought wistfully about the days when men thought that he was alone in the universe. As of February 2nd, 2155, man had discovered 237 forms of alien life on 17 different planets. Not to mention some nasty little ****** out there. He had heard horrifying stories. None of the alien life forms were intelligent, most were harmless, even cute. However one species came to Bruce’s mind instantly before Barnes had even finished the communication. A group of aliens so classified you needed a level 4 Government clearance to know about them. These were the Andromeda-356 Kragolytes. They were named so for that fact that they lived in the Andromeda Galaxy, in the 356th Charted Star System. Unfortunately they were one of the find species to ever be discovered. They too, were not intelligent but simply ravenous beasts that loved to feed on the unsuspecting humans that arrived on their nesting grounds. A group of scientists with only two crude plasma rifles arrived on that planet Earth time 0630, April 17th, 2103. They were there to study the extraordinary deposits of Argon Gas, and the unusual mild weather of the planet. The walk on the planet barely even required a space suit, since the plant was rich in Oxygen. The poor scientists had intended to settle there for 3 Earth Months before returning home. They didn’t even survive the day. The Kragolytes apparently smelled the first scientist taking field samples about 300 yards from the ship. Before he could run, a group of 6 aliens rushed out of the argon vent, and tore him limb from limb. Fully viewable from the lander, the scientists hastily made an emergency report to Earth. All intentions of saving their companion were quickly scrapped as the aliens dragged him down before, muffling his screams. Then their horrors were realized. Already regrouped in the vehicle, the scientists screamed in horror as they watched hundreds of creatures appear from the ground. They didn’t even have time to fire the jets.
Since then a few ships have carefully grazed the surface of Andromeda-356; even landed. With armored rangers on board they were able to successfully kill a few of the beasts, but never could secure a live capture. The planet became a much less frightening place as the years went on. With new weapons being fired the aliens usually scurried off in fear, allowing some brief studies to go on. But no one dared to stay their too long, no one knew what kind of attack they might mount next.
Bruce had finished dressing; grabbed a quick health tab, and opened to the door to leave his apartment. He was dressed in standard casual uniform, with a beret and button down shirt pinned with 3 medals. At his waist he carried his standard attack knife, and US432 Issued assault handgun.
One Tough Mother******….
The elevator ride was quick for 125 floors, and soon he was on the ground level at Lexington and 63rd. It had started to rain as Bruce hailed a cab. He admired his city; New York City. It was still the pinnacle and greatest wonder of the United States. Cars flew by him at astonishing speeds. The hovered at 5 different levels. From street to street you could hover on ground level. If you wanted to travel longer you could ride an express lane at 30 feet, 60 feet, 100 feet, and 150 feet. As you higher, you could go faster. At the top lane some cars traveled at 250 miles an hour. Those were the cars headed to Philadelphia or Boston. You could get there real quick in the express lanes. They were all computer controlled of course. Bruce squinted; it had started to rain. The rain seemed to crash down off the buildings, which were incredibly tall. Nearly every building in Midtown was at least 1000 feet tall, to accommodate the constant influx of population in the city. Ah, New York. Greatest city in the world.
Bruce hopped in the cab.
“Pier 17”
And he was away. Bruce looked out the window at people running by to get out of the rain and wondered how long, just how long he would be on Earth this time.
