[FT]
[Mature]
'I Thought You Were All The Same...'
The woman sat inside the white anti-septic cleanliness of the test room was quietly humming to herself, right before the unannounced presence spoke in her ear. "What's the status of Batch Nine?"
She jumped, near-frightened to death. "What the hell's wrong with you Kelis?!"
The man just looked at her until she sighed and picked up the scattered papers she'd knocked off the desk from the floor. "It's...okay."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" asked the man harshly.
She fidgeted with the papers, unwilling it seemed to look the man in the eye. "The batch is an odd one. Most of the subjects are responding to the Indoc section the way they should be. Eta Team however are...proving hard to identify with us."
The man rocked back on his heels, one hand cupping his chin while the other cupped his elbow. "...There's no explanation for that. Unless...yes." he murmured to himself.
The woman just stared at him, waiting for an answer. Eventually she prodded him. "What?"
The man looked at the floor just past her before refocusing on her. He used his arms, one moving in time with his speech. "When you get right down to it, genetics is a random game to play. Chance plays just as much a part as design does. Perhaps it's inevitable we get subjects who aren't as responsive to their training."
The woman waved her hands in denial. "No, it's not that Kelis."
"I'm sorry?" he replied, eyes showing his surprise.
"It's not their training, Kelis. It's the indoctrination phase." she explained. She plucked one sheet of paper from the sheaf in her hands and waved it at him. "They're scoring just as well in survival, marksmanship, hand to hand combat and all the others as the rest of the units in Batch Nine. Hell, I think they're actually doing better on average. It's just Indoc that's not being taken in."
Kelis raised one eyebrow in consternation. "You mean to tell me that we have a complete team being raised who are learning from the very best we have...and we can't even be sure they're going to end up being one-hundred percent loyal to us?"
"In essence, yes." shrugged the woman helplessly.
He nodded to himself. "I'm sure we can find a way to solve this problem. Have Eta Team ready for a briefing in the main lecture area."
The woman looked at him questioningly before turning to the intercom. She wouldn't get a straight answer off him anyway. "Very well then, Doctor."
At first glance, a person would think that these men were just brothers. That is, until they got closer and realised that they were precisely identical. All four were about six foot tall, with closely cropped brown hair and strong eyes of blue. Each one had the well muscled-build of a weight-trainer, as well as skin bronzed from long hours in the sun. All were dressed in fatigues, and bore the same uniform look of regulated boredom. Being dragged out of bed at 2300 hours wasn't an uncommon occurrence, since the trainers loved to spring night-time exercises on them, but being dragged out of bed and told to report to the main lecturing area was. TS-998, or Ate as his brothers called him looked round at them and whispered loudly, "You reckon they've realised my good looks are going to waste here with none of the ladies about?"
"Shut it, Ate." growled Kaden. He was the team's resident surly man, but his skills at CQC and demolitions made up for that in the eyes of his brothers. Ate made to give a comeback but was chopped off when the team's leader chopped his hand. "That's it, you two. The doctor's going to be here in a minute, and I don't intend to give him any cause for concern with us. Especially if that means we end up in Recon." Kelis had been watching the squad for the past ten minutes now. The level of personality variations within Eta Team had amazed him. Most of the other units in each batch didn't even seem to have an advanced sense of individuality, but Eta Team had seemingly identified with names, derived personalities unakin to each other. Even their voices exhibited minor variations. He carried on for another five minutes, observing with interest how both this 'Ate' and 'Kaden' had instantly fallen into line when the team leader ordered it. "So, there's still a hierarchy. Is it societal, or a byproduct of the chain of command?" he murmured to himself. It was an interesting view into how the units conducted themselves when they thought they weren't being observed. Eventually he put it to an end, sweeping out of the security office and into the main chamber. "Identify yourselves," he demanded. He knew he had to establish as the authority figure in the room. They might not have been following Indoc properly, but they had still been instilled with that key sense of discipline. The team's leader saluted, barking in a parade-ground voice, "TS-Nine-One-Five, Eta Team, reporting as ordered sir!" The others quickly followed suit,
"TS-Nine-Four-Six, Eta Team, reporting as ordered sir!"
"TS-Nine-Seven-Three, Eta Team, reporting as ordered sir!"
"TS-Nine-Nine-Eight, Eta Team, reporting as ordered sir!"
Kelis stood there, letting their anticipation, and tension, build. "I'm sure none of you know why you're here." He noted with interest as the faces of the team betrayed their anxiety. One-Five's eye twitched, Seven-Three's gaze had moved from straight ahead to look at him for a brief moment, and Nine-Eight's eyes had suddenly gone blank. Only Four-Six had shown no visible trace, but the others could tell Kelis what he wanted. "I'll clear it up, since you all seem so...tense about it. I want you four to prove your loyalty to us." The team just looked at Kelis, suspicion and blankness competing for control of their facial expressions. It was One-Five who spoke up finally, "Can...I ask what our mission would be, sir?"
Kelis smiled coldly at the clone. "You may. Your task is to infiltrate a compound in the western district of Bad Landing. There you will terminate the individual Baroka Deufen. Baroka is a terrorist, but she always has impeccable alibis and witnesses to swear she was elsewhere. So far, she's destroyed four government facilities, as well as a recruiting station for the Marine Corps. Over one-hundred civilians, around seventy government employees, and five marines have died in her attacks." He leaned back, perching himself on the stainless steel lectern behind him. "If you do this, and succeed, your...less than illustrious ability to absorb the impact and justice of our noble cause, will be hidden away in the darkest corners of the deepest record room available, and I will make sure no-one discovers it." It was at that point he lost even the cold smile that had adorned his face, an ugly smirk replacing it. "If you don't....you will all be reconditioned. And I will oversee it personally." He stood, pointing to the door they had entered through. "Your equipment and any specific details you believe you need will be found through there." Then, just as abruptly as he entered, he left. The clones were paralysed for a moment. "...Damn." muttered Kaden. Ate looked round at him, eyebrows raised. "Had a stroke of genius? Quick guys, grab the holo-cam to record this momentous occasion. Or not..." He sighed as he looked at One-Five's scowling visage. "Sorry Honcho." Honcho just shook his head and waved the team out. They had a mission to do.
The room was stacked with piles of crates and gun-racks. There was enough guns in there to equip an entire battalion, or so Ate thought, and the others weren't inclined to disagree. The gruff sergeant who'd met them gestured at a pile of gear set on a countertop. "This all we're getting?" asked Honcho as he indicated the pile with his thumb. The sergeant was a grumpy type, balding, with what little remained being grey. He was on the stout side too, a barrel chest turning into a keg. He spat the root he'd been chewing into a waste disposal unit with unerring accuracy and grimaced. "Yeah. If you need anything else, you fill in the requisition form and you'd better give me a damn good reason." He stumped off, sloping into the cubbyhole that served as the clerk's area in the armoury. Honcho gave him to his back what had quickly become known as the two-finger salute to the clones when they learned it, though it wasn't a bit as respectful as a salute, and then started to divvy up the the gear with the team. Within a few minutes they'd fully tooled up, Honcho carrying a silenced version of an older-model J-17 pulse rifle while Ate pulled out a long-barrelled J-17M, a sniper's variant. Both Kaden and Four-Six took the silenced J-17's, but Kaden added on breaching charges and other exotic explosives to his harness and backpack while Four-Six shoved trauma kits and other medical paraphernalia into his pouches. Honcho had also liberally loaded up, but his load was more eclectic. He had feedback connectors to screw up cameras and make them show endless repeats, laser refractors to deal with laser sensors as well as ammunition and a stubby flechette gun. There was a chance that the mission could go loud, and he'd rather take a flechette gun to rake corridors and the enemy within then manoeuvre a pulse rifle. He tossed a pulse pistol to Ate. If it did go loud, he'd need something to replace the sniper rifle he was carrying which was even longer than the standard J-17's. He looked over what was left of the pile before digging out a small crate, levering it open to reveal full-cover helmets. He handed them out, making sure each man's seals clicked as they gripped the rim, and getting a nod off each member as they signalled they were ready to go.
They moved towards the door, only noticing the man stood outside when they'd all got out. He looked at them, a curious look in his eyes, almost as if he'd never seen a clone before. "Are you Eta Team?" he asked, eyes flickering between each of them as if unsure who the leader was. Honcho saluted. That was the way they'd been told to respect non-clones, or 'normals' as the instructors referred to them. "TS-Nine-One-Five, Eta Team leader, reporting. Are you here to brief us on the details, sir?" The normal nodded, loosening up a bit in the face of the precise military etiquette used by the clones. "I'm Lieutenant Morganson. Let's run through your broad mission overview. You're supposed to infiltrate into Deufen's compound, then terminate her, correct?"
"Affirmative, sir." replied Honcho for the team.
"Good. Okay, onto the details. We estimate there's around twenty guards in the grounds and buildings within the area. There's also a small staff area where the hired hands sleep when off-shift. That should be all of them tonight. " He projected his pad's image onto the floor as a three-dimensional image. "There's three buildings inside the walls. One is the barracks/power generator, also the tallest of them all. If you get a sniper up there, you should be able to pick off anyone within the grounds as well as any reinforcements trying to enter." He pointed to a small building. "This is a supply and communications room. Take it out, and they won't be able to signal any help or grab any extra heavy weapons or munition stocks." This time he shifted to pointing at the last remaining building. "This is where Baroka resides. She lives somewhere on the third floor, east wing. She is your priority. Kill her."
Ate shifted uneasily. Morganson looked up at him, "Something the matter, Nine-Eight?"
Reluctantly he replied. "Yes sir. What do we do with the civvie staff?"
Morganson nodded as if he'd known that was what Ate was going to ask. "Civilians expendable. If it's any consolation, they're all sympathisers for her. They'd have to be, everyone knows her reputation."
Ate seemed to chew on that before nodding. "Aye sir."
The normal lieutenant looked around at each of them, "Anything else?" When he got no answers he nodded to himself. "Alright. Head to Pad-Six-Green, there's an AT-20 waiting there for your insertion. Good luck."
"This is crap." Kaden looked around at each of his brothers, almost defying them to deny it. Four-Six just sat with his head to the juddering frame of the AT-20, while Honcho sighed. Only Ate seemed ready to vocalise his agreement. "Yep."
"Say it ain't so. You two agreeing? We're screwed now." joked Honcho, trying to lighten the mood. Ate just sighed, for once his contary cheerfulness not holding out. Honcho looked around at the two of them from his position just behind the cockpit door. "It's for the best. Doing this means we don't end up being reconditioned, plus this Baroka sounds like a genuine bitch."
Kaden was frowning in silence. "That's fine by me. I just don't like the thought of slotting civvies. Even if they are terrorist sympathisers."
Four-Six spoke up then, disrupting the silence that he exuded, "Soon as they pick up a gun and start shooting, they're not civilains. Remember that."
Ate made to reply only to be interrupted as the pilot's voice rang out over the intercom. "Eta Team, insertion point in twenty seconds. Stand by." The craft shuddered into a shallow dive, abruptly levelling out. The back ramp dropped, the commandos barrelling out to land on the ground a few feet below. "Good luck, Eta Team. RV in one-hour." The AT-20 roared off into the night sky before anyone observing could notice its presence. The area they'd landed in was thick woodland that reached all the way to the south wall of the compound. Thick garuna trees native to Vetokia were the dominant foliage, though smaller trees like elms and beeches were adapting slowly to the eco-system. Out of the hour they had to complete the operation, at least half of that had to be reserved for the walk to the compound and then back to the extraction point. "Alright, everyone ready? We've got fifteen minutes to get there. Ate, you'll pick off any guards on the tower while the rest of us climb over the wall."
"Climb?" asked Kaden, "You sure you don't want to breach it instead? Should keep the element of surprise."
"Climb. The later the op goes loud, the less time for the local law enforcement to respond." He responded, looking around to make sure they all understood. "Alright, move out."
It had taken them only fourteen minutes to make it to the target, which by Ate's reckoning was pretty good. He was now settled down in the cover of the shadow formed by a garuna tree, J-17M poised to aim at the top of the tower. The scope lens had been specially coated to make sure there wasn't a shine to alert a sentry, and the silencer was attached. He could bring silent death to whoever was in his scope, he thought to himself, and as if on cue a guard appeared. The man didn't seem that young, on the portly side with a smoke in his mouth and a pistol holstered at his side. Not what anyone would expect a terrorist to look like, but that's what his and his brothers trainers had always emphasised. As if to calm himself he repeated the oft-used mantra in his head, 'The enemy are not always evil-looking people in uniforms. They are not always young men. They can look like any random normal you could imagine. And they can kill you all the same.' He settled the crosshairs right at the middle of the man's head, a perfect cranial vault shot. A simple press of the trigger and the man would crumple as life left him, no dramatic falling off the balcony to alert anyone on the ground, no blood spatter decorating the walls. A voice startled him out of his reverie, "Ate, we're preparing to enter. Do you have a target?"
He breathed back, almost as if keeping quiet was the only way not to let the guard know he was there. "Affirmative. One X-ray on the tower."
"Take the shot." Ate's eyes closed for a moment, before opening. He resettled the crosshairs on the man's head, waiting for that space in between heartbeats where there would be no air in his lungs to disrupt the shot. He pressed the trigger, watching the man's eyes lose their shine as his head splintered and he fell silently on the floor.
At the wall Honcho was stood waiting for Ate's report. "Ate here. X-ray down, go." He leapt up, hands grasping the top of the wall, using the strength of his forearms alone to pull him up until he could get his legs under him, dropping feet-first onto the soft grass of the inside with a thud that seemed to shake his very bones. Kaden and Four-Six were over the wall just behind him, joined a few seconds later by Ate. The four of them moved over to the side of the staff house. Honcho peered around a corner, ducking back as he saw the guard. "One X-ray. Stay here." He crept out silently, crouching as he moved, slowly slipping the lethal blade sheathed in his left boot out. He stood as he reached the guard, one hand covering the man's mouth while the other opened his throat. He caught the body as it fell, dragging it back to the lee of the wall, fastidiously cleaning the knife on the corpse's clothing before returning it to its sheath. He beckoned to the others, moving to the door as he did so. "Alright. There should be about ten to fifteen people at most in here judging from the size. Kaden, Six, move to the other side. Go in quiet, you hear me?"
"Roger that."
"I hear you."
Honcho counted off the seconds it should take them to reach the other side. He wasn't surprised to hear them check in just as he finished counting. "Alright, Eta Team, go." He prodded the door open, slipping to one side with rifle aimed at the corridor they were in while Ate moved to the other side, sniper rifle slung onto his back with a pistol in his hand. He pointed to himself, then to a door on the right, fingers opening and closing to ask whether he should go in. Honcho nodded silent assent, moving to the opposite door. He slid this one open, his helmet helping his eyes adapt to the pitch-black within. Two bunk-beds were inside, each one occupied. He paced over to the nearest, knife slipping out as he finished off the old man inside. He stood, doing to the same to the occupant of that bunk before a noise made him spin around. The young man, no, not even a man yet judging from his face, in the other bottom bunk had woken up, disturbed by the faint sounds coming from the other side of the room. He clicked on the wall light, revealing Honcho stood there like a wild animal in front of the lights of a moving vehicle about to crush it, a bloody knife in his hand and screamed. Honcho did the instinctive thing that came to him, shooting the boy with his rifle clutched in his right hand. A single bounding stride took him to the bed, knife lancing up through the top mattress into the back of the other person's neck. He heard the near silent-whisper of a pulse dart four times from the other room. A familiar voice sounded off in his ear. "This is Kaden. There's a stock of weapons and ammo in here. Nothing too heavy though."
"What do you mean?" demanded Honcho impatiently. It took a while for Kaden to respond, as if he'd been shocked into silence by Honcho's response.
"I mean that there's nothing heavier than some antique pulse-rifles here. Load of pistols and three boxes of ammo, but that's it." came the answer.
"They must be in the barracks then. Ate, Kaden, move out to the barracks. When you get there, rig some charges. Nothing too fancy, just enough to wreck any equipment they might have inside from the outside. Ate, watch his back." He was moving back out as he did so, Ate vanishing up the corridor while Four-Six moved down it towards him.
"What are we doing?" asked the other commando.
"We're taking out Baroka. On me." The two of them padded quickly to the main entrance of her home, walking on the grass and avoiding the gravel path to make sure no-one inside started hearing suspicious noises. "This should open onto a large atrium." recalled Honcho of the floorplans they'd reviewed on the flight out. "Straight up the left to the stair case, turn right, second door on the left."
Four-Six nodded. "Go in loud and then head up?"
"May as well. Not as if we're going to be able to surprise her after we breach the main doors anyway," answered Honcho.
Four-Six just slapped some explosive tape on the door frame. This was powerful stuff according to the instructors, but for all Eta Team knew the door could be solid titanium beneath, and that would need more than a simple wooden frame would. "You ready?" he asked, finger poised on the detonator.
Honcho just held a finger up for him to wait as he contacted the other two. "Kaden, how're those charges coming along?"
"Just about...done." replied Kaden with a small grunt of satisfaction.
"On my command, detonate those charges." He turned to Four-Six, "On the same command, we breach."
He silently waited, setting the J-17 to the double-round burst. This was more controllable than full automatic, and it meant that he had an easier time stopping opponents with two darts instead of just one. He breathed deeply a couple of times, before nodding to himself and opening his radio. "Execute, execute, execute!" The nearby tower ruptured, flames gouting from the roof. The ground-level walls erupted sideways, throwing debris everywhere, letting a vast cloud of dust bellow forth. For all its ferocity, it was the breaching charge that demanded Honcho's attention. The thin-framed wooden doors were hurled from their frames by the sheer explosive force, tossed inwards into the atrium.
Both the commandos ran inside, taking the stairs two at a time. A guard picked himself up from the floor, the grey dust coating him turning him into a ghost, trying to pull his pistol out of his holster before Four-Six shor him down on the run. The man fell back on the floor, blood leaking to cover it with the dark sheen of death as the two clones reached the next floor. They spotted the room, each one hurling himself to either side. Honcho moved into a blur of motion then, standing in front of the door, kicking it inwards with the force all his muscles could give him before stepping inside. The bedside light next to Baroka as she sat up in bed was blurring the vision of his helmet, stopping him from seeing what she was desperately clutching for. There was only one thing he could do, and he did it. A single pull of the trigger and the darts fired, one bursting through the front of her skull and cratering the wall behind while the other impacted just above the bridge of her nose, splattering grey brain matter across the soft satin sheets of the bed. He looked away, before his visor cleared and he could look back to see what she'd been reaching for. It was a pair of eye-glasses, antiques that no longer saw much use in the face of the multitude of corrective eye surgeries available to the majority of Vetokite citizens. Not even a weapon, or a comm-link for reinforcements. A pair of glasses. Four-Six shouldered past him, checking the throat for a pulse as if he had any need. "We need to get going, Honcho." Honcho looked away from the ruined body, and walked out behind the retreating form of Four-Six. He felt as if he was about to cry inside.
It took them fifteen minutes to reach the extraction point and the waiting AT-20. This time the loadmaster was waiting to beckon them on. "C'mon, we can't wait around here all night. Local brass might search these woods." The four clones silently trudged onboard, fatigued beyond measure. The ride back home was a quiet one. Honcho sat with his arms folded near the rear ramp, eyes gazing at the ceiling. He thought of the way his knife had silently slit the sentry's throat, and the boy's face. He knew it would give him sleepless nights, but the one thing the instructors had never covered was the feeling dirty after the kill. All he could think of now was the fact that he felt soiled, unclean after the lives he'd taken, the dead not even realising they had been about to die. He only realised that they were back when the AT-20 settled on the landing pad with a thump. He stood with a weary sigh, gathering his equipment as he shepherded the rest of Eta Team off the craft.
They'd handed in their equipment to the armourer, then headed to the auditorium where they'd first been briefed for an immediate debrief. Inside stood Doctor Kelis, arms folded inside his labcoat and eyes focusing unblinkingly on Honcho, while another man, shorter than him with a shaven head, powerful arms visible under his shirtsleeves, perched his backside on a desk, feet on the chair next to it. "Make your report, Nine-One-Five."
Honcho snapped to attention, speaking in a staccato rhythm. "Target was taken out, along with all personnel on-site. No reinforcements were signalled, and no witnesses were left at the scene."
Kelis smiled, a horribly smug thing to Ate's eyes, and nodded. "Very good. Now for my part of the bargain. This gentleman," he pointed to the other man in the room, "will be your senior officer from now on. You will have nothing more to do with myself or this facility, and will instead act as enployees for my esteemed 'associate' and his agency. I bid you all farewell." With that he turned about and strode out via a sidedoor. The four clones just glanced at each other in puzzlement before the sound of a cough focused their attention on the man on the desk. "Now my 'esteemed' arsehole of a colleague is absent, let's know you."
"TS-Nin-" began Honcho, stopping as he saw the upraised hand signalling silence.
"Not your serial numbers. I can read those off your name tags and your records. I want to know your real names."
Honcho just looked around at his squad in surprise. No normal had ever bothered asking them their own names. Most of the time the instructors tried to stamp it out in fact. Eventually it was Ate who spoke up. "I'm Ate, sir."
"Kaden." said his brother in his characteristic rasp.
"Honcho."
"Six."
The man gazed at Six for a few seconds. "That's it?" The commando just shrugged.
"Never heard one I liked that much, sir."
"Hmm...I got just the thing. How does Taul suit you?" he asked.
Six repeated it, as if trying out the sound of the syllables on his tongue. "I...I guess I like it."
The normal just smiled as he slipped himself off the desk. "I'm Johna Barish. You boys can just call me Johna, or if you insist on formalities, Captain Barish. Good to know you all. You boys will be coming with me, your gear's already been stowed away in the APC." He turned back to them as he strode out through the main doors. "Oh, and drop the TS bit. It's CC from now on."
"CC, sir?" asked Honcho, head cocked to one side.
The normal turned and smiled as he reached the waiting APC, one hand on the frame as he began to lean inside. "You're Confederate Commandos now."
Kelis had watched the whole scene from his office and the sleek monitor built into his desk. He reflected on how it was a shame he'd had to put up with that insufferable common prick Barish. At least he was out of here, along with Eta Team. Let him prat on about how they needed free thinkers in war. His subjects would do just fine. A buzzer rang, breaking his concentration. "What is it?" he asked, his voice rife with impatience.
The voice of his secretary replied from the discrete speakers embedded in the ceiling. "I believe there's an emergency news broadcast that would interest you, sir."
"Ah. Thank you Madaleine." he instantly switched back to impeccable politeness, hand waving the power sensor on for the wall-mounted display screen. It showed a news report, the presenter bleary-eyed, evidently dragged out of bed by an anxious producer. The main focus of the screen was a small compound, flames burning brightly within as firecrews sprayed suppressant foam onto the fire and police vehicles formed a dark grey and blue cordon around the area. He switched the sound on, catching the reporter in mid-speech. "-ppears that the compound of famous, or some may say, notorious, investigative journalist Baroka Deufen is on fire. Baroka was reported to be investigating rumours of secret weapons and research facilities including such banned activities as cloning, being conducted by the government. Reports say she was forced to hire security guards due to her fears for her own safety, though private sources within the government have derided such claims as 'proof of her evident instability.' So far the police and fire service have declined to announce any possible reasons for the explosions, though it has been established that the possible rupture of a gas tank is most like-"
Kelis placed the control on his desk, leaning back on his chair, feet placed on his desk, and smiled.