Rip's Adventures, Rip and the Tunnel, Part X

Rip lay back down and cogitated the situation in his head. The arrival of Lavoisier into the picture definitely changed things. Although he felt betrayed by his former C.O. for leaving him behind in Quebec, there was no denying that he still respected the man deeply. What Rip had said was true. He would have followed him to Hell if the situation demanded it. There had never been a soldier Rip believed in more, and he was beginning to have second thoughts about the Republicans. If Lavoisier trusted them as he said he did, then maybe there really was hope for this fragmented world. If that was Lavoisier’s true judgment, then Rip had to admit there was nothing else in the world that could persuade him better to join the Republicans’ cause.

But Rip also had doubts. Though the Republicans claimed not to use magic, he had seen how magic could warp a man’s mind. And they had indicated little about being without psychics. Either way, there was the possibility that they had somehow captured Lavoisier and were simply using him and his memories to deceive Rip. But if that was the case, why cure him of his dependency on the juice? Certainly there was no way Lavoisier could have survived without detoxing. And why were they trying so hard to convince him if they could just as easily twist him through magic or psionics? The more Rip thought it through, the more he came to believe that the Republicans might be telling him the truth.

As he lay there letting his mind wander, he felt his drug harness kick in with sedatives to calm him down. His eyelids soon became heavy and his breathing regulated as he relaxed into a restive state.

Rip suddenly sat up. The sounds of rail gun fire and high explosives filled the air. He looked down and saw that he was wearing the camouflaged battle dress body armor of a Quebecois Special Forces operative. The ground was littered with barbed wire and potholes from explosive weapons fire and land mines. The air was filled with smoke and a haze covered the field. He engaged his thermal vision to help him see through the thick cloud of smoke hanging over the land.

“Chenille! Hit the dirt!” came the cry from his commandant as mini-missiles rained down on them from a SAMAS “Smiling Jack” flying power armor up above. He complied with lightning-quick response time and felt the impact upon the ground as the mini-missiles exploded. His armor was slightly damaged from the blast, but he was otherwise okay.

“Chenille? You alright?” his C.O. shouted over the din of the battlefield.

“A bit singed, but I’ll survive.” Major Etienne “Chenille” le Blanc replied.

“We have to continue on to those Glitter Boy Killers. If we don’t take ‘em out our boys are gonna have a helluva fight and won’t be able to expend their ordinance where it’s really needed.”

“Oui, Monsieur!” Chenille responded as he rose to his feet. He glanced around and saw a figure approaching him quickly from behind. It was his commandant, Colonel Roget “Chef” Lavoisier, the bravest and most dedicated man Chenille had ever known. He was prouder than he had ever been of anything in his life to serve at his side. The man was a legend in his own time for his leadership of the all-Juicer Équipe de la Foudre, the Lightning Squad, six of the most battle-hardened commandos in the entire Quebecois Special Forces. This time they had been called upon to save the day again as a group of the Glitter Boy Legion had radioed in that they were pinned down by CS armored fire behind enemy lines. The Lightning Squad had been sent out with high-explosive fusion blocks and other special weapons to clear the area of CS power armor for the Glitter Boy pilots to make it back home alive and well.

After dodging the mini-missiles, the Lightning Squad was up and running, each member easily clocking in at well over 100 kilometers per hour. Their exceptional speed, even for Juicers, was one of the things that gave the Lightning Squad its name. Each member had been hand-picked by Chef for his speed, strength, endurance, and fighting skill. They were the quickest, strongest, toughest warriors the Quebec Army had to offer, and they never failed their missions. Every member of the team would rather die than leave a job uncompleted. All were experienced veterans of combat, had mastery of an unmatched number of weapons and special skills, and possessed the prowess of a juggernaut in combat. There was no better team of soldiers on all of Rifts Earth.

As the troops trod deeper and deeper into enemy territory towards the stranded Glitter Boys, they ducked, dodged, and weaved through enemy missile and gunfire with preternatural agility and grace. Chenille himself possessed a phenomenal ability to predict where enemy weapons fire would be directed before it was fired, giving him a keen edge in battle against any opponent. His fellow squad members were equally or better skilled than he, if it could be believed. They moved through the Coalition lines like a blur. Nothing could touch them. The Lightning Squad lived well up to its name as the commandos streaked through the Coalition battle formations with blinding speed.

Finally they came upon their quarry. A number of heavily armed PA-300 “Glitter Boy Killers” were pressing the attack against the Quebecois Glitter Boy group while Coalition SAMAS and sky-cycles provided cover fire from the skies. The Glitter Boy pilots were definitely in dire straits.

“Everyone turn your amp ears down to minimum gain. Don’t want you goin’ deaf from Boom Gun fire,” Chef called out. “Réticule! Get to work on taking down those fliers. Arme Lourde, cover him. Everyone else with me. We’re gonna make those sons of bitches wish they had never tangled with our Glitter Boys!”

Chenille and the others stuck with the colonel and blitzed into the fray. Chenille pulled out a fusion block pack and leapt onto a PA-300 before the pilot knew what hit him. As the ‘bot clawed at Chenille with its vibro-blades and swayed about to try to knock him off, he kept a death grip and slammed the explosive pack right behind the head. As another PA-300 turned its plasma cannon on Chenille to assist its ally, he quickly dove off into the dirt leaving the assaulting power armor to cover its comrade in searing-hot plasma. As he hit the ground running, he jammed the detonator to the fusion block pack, blowing the head of the PA-300 clean off and knocking it to the ground. “That’s one down,” Chenille said to himself as he set his sights on the next target.

Meanwhile the Glitter Boys were doing their part to stay alive. Deafening Boom Gun bursts railed at the enemy power armor while the pilots made their way to their Juicer allies. “Glad to see you, Lightning Squad,” Chenille heard in his cochlear implant. The leader of the Glitter Boy group was radioing in to thank them for their arrival. “Don’t know how much longer we could have fought them off. We’ve been taking heavy fire for the last ten minutes with little cover or rest. They just swarmed around us in a pincer attack. Took out our reload teams first. Already lost two suits to the hostiles. But we’re making a break for it now.”

Chenille incapacitated a second PA-300 with a fusion pack to the right leg and headed over to assist a Glitter Boy that had been knocked over by a Glitter Boy Killer that was now slashing it to pieces with its wicked vibro-claws. “Hang on, trooper!” Chenille called out as he collided into the enemy power suit from the side, knocking it down and giving the Glitter Boy pilot time to get up and get out of Dodge.

“Merci beaucoup, Major,” the pilot said to Chenille as it headed off from the fray and back towards the Quebecois lines. Chenille then had to contend with an angry CS pilot who was trying to rip him to shreds. He extended his own forearm vibro-blades and began to tear away at the enemy weapon systems. With each attack of his own came two more from the enemy, but he was too quick to be caught by his opponent, deftly dodging and parrying the Glitter Boy Killer’s thrusts and jabs. The PA-300 was fast compared to the Glitter Boy, but slow as a slug compared to a Juicer the likes of Chenille. Soon Chenille had eaten away all but one of his enemy’s own blades. They were fighting on their feet now, Chenille making an agile riposte to each strike of the enemy while placing his own precise blows.

“Alright, boys! The GBs are out of the hole. Let’s get out of here,” came Chef’s words over the radio. “Nice job on the air cover, Réticule. You and Arme Lourde cover our exit.”

Chenille’s battle with the Coalition power ‘bot had reached its climax, but it was time to depart like a graceful opponent. He decided to leave the battle with a bang. He retracted the blades on his left arm and reached into his satchel of fusion blocks while digging into the thick M.D.C. armor plating of the Glitter Boy Killer with his right arm-blades. Then, while nimbly dodging a swipe from the ‘bot’s good arm, he inserted the fusion blocks into the crevasse created by his other arm. He grabbed the armor tightly with both hands and stuck his feet on the chest of the ‘bot, using them to propel him off in a back-flip away from his opponent. As he flew through the air, he flicked the switch on the detonator. The Killer exploded in a glorious burst of flame and fire, keeling to the ground in abject defeat. Chenille and his squad had routed the enemy and saved the day once again.

As Chenille dashed away, he couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of pride in their latest victory. They had once again triumphed over incredible odds against a superior enemy. However, as he relished in the Coalition defeat, he became too sure of himself. He had forgotten to turn up his amplified hearing implant after clearing the way for the Glitter Boys and failed to hear the SAMAS “Smiling Jack” diving towards him from the sky. His response was too late, and the enemy SAMAS had locked onto him with full weapons. As the enemy pilot pulled the trigger, Colonel Lavoisier crashed into Chenille not a split-second too late and knocked him just short of the rail gun fire. But while Chenille avoided major damage to his body armor, a rail-gun round had pierced Chef’s right shoulder and he was down on the ground, bleeding profusely through the hole in his armor. Chef had saved Chenille’s life. Had he not knocked him to the side, the rail gun round would have gone right through Chenille’s head.

The Smiling Jack pulled out of its dive and was turning for another attack run on Chenille when Réticule blasted its wings with his own rocket-launcher. The Smiling Jack careened into the ground as Chenille remembered to turn his amplified hearing back to normal. “Come on, Chenille!” Réticule cried over the radio. “There’s more of them headed this way.”

Chenille leaned over and picked up his fallen leader. “Do not worry, mon commandant,” he said quietly to the brave man who had put his life in danger to save Chenille’s. “I will not let you die.”

Rip suddenly awoke. It had been such a vivid dream. He had recalled the events of that day with such clarity, it was as if he was really back on that battlefield all those years ago. And in that moment, Rip knew there was only one choice to make.

“Do not worry, mon commandant,” he said quietly in the small holding room as he sat up. “I will not let you down.”