Sam "The Dagger's" Fan Fiction

Rip's Adventures: Rip and the Tunnel, Part XI

2010-01-22T00:22:00.000-08:00

“Glad to see you’re with us, le Blanc,” Colonel Copper said as Rip entered the briefing room. It was a Spartan military room of M.D.C. concrete and few decorations. The only true ornamentation was the symbol of N.E.M.A. carved masterfully on the masonry behind the head of the table where Colonel Copper sat. The table was dark, made of stained teak wood. It was about eight meters long and two and a half meters wide. Around the table were a number of cushioned, high-backed, swivel chairs. A few of them were empty, but most of them were filled with Republican personnel. They were all in fatigues, so Rip could see no readily apparent insignias, but he could tell who the officers were by the way they carried themselves and the manner of deference given to them by the others. The officers, including Lavoisier, were gathered around Copper. Thebes sat near the end next to an empty seat.

“I thought I told you to call me Rip, Colonel,” Rip replied.

“So you did. Well then, Rip. Please join us. We were just about to go over our tactical situation.”

“Saved you a spot, Rip,” Thebes said with a smile.

Rip took a deep breath and sat down. There was a giant poster map of the complex sitting on the table. The complex was larger than he thought. It wrapped itself intricately around the Blacksburg drainage sewer system for what had to be at least a kilometer in almost every direction. What was even more interesting was that the complex he was inside was not the only one on the map. At least five other smaller, adjoining complexes were indicated on the map, plus one large one on the west side of the sewers. However the large one on the west side of the sewers wasn’t interconnected with the others or the sewers in any way. In fact, the map gave no indication whatsoever of a means of accessing this location. The map also didn’t show anything but the exterior boundaries of the larger complex. However, when Rip looked at it even closer, he made a startling realization.

“Wait a second, this is the section that tunnel we found led to,” he said aloud to no one in particular.

“I know,” Thebes replied, her face aglow with excitement. “I thought it was pretty interesting to find out that the earthen tunnel we found was actually made by the Republicans. This last section here is the only part of these ruins that they are in the process of excavating.”

“That’s right, Rip,” said Copper, stepping in. “And it took us a long time to find too. We’ve been here for months working on the other parts that were easily accessible by the sewer. But even we were rather astounded when our sonar detected this new section, which appears to have no entrances within the sewer whatsoever. I’m still having my people scour the surface for a hidden passage, but so far, the tunnel we’ve dug has been our only means of access.”

“Whoa, hold on there, missy,” Rip said holding up a finger. “What do you mean you found this place? I thought this was your base of operations and it was just our dumb luck to stumble upon you.”

“And my name’s not ‘missy.’ You will call me Colonel Copper,” the fiery red-headed woman said. “And this place is not, in fact, the headquarters of the Republicans. This is just our latest outpost. You’ll learn more about our other bases when we take you in for detox.”

“So you’re saying you don’t do the detox here?” Rip asked.

“I only wish we could. Unfortunately the process is very delicate and we only have one facility capable of performing the procedure. So in the meantime, you’re going to work with us here.”

“But you said I was gonna die,” Rip looked mad.

“Everyone dies, Rip. And you will too, one day. But don’t worry, you’ve got some time. Our bio-scanners indicated you have at least two weeks, which is more than enough time for us to finish our mission and get you to the detox facility. And we’ll have our doctors here keep a close eye on you in the meantime.”

“Trust her, Chenille,” Lavoisier soothed. “She wouldn’t lie to you. You are no use to us dead. I promise we will get you to the facility with time to spare.”

“Alright, Chef. I’ll play ball. But I’m just giving you people one chance. Now what’s this mission you’re going on about?”

“It’s actually pretty simple,” Copper said. “As I was saying, right before you and Miss Antilles arrived we were in the process of excavating this old N.E.M.A. ruin. It appears there was a hidden research base buried under tons of dirt and rock along with the rest of Blacksburg back during the Great Cataclysm. We estimate it was some kind of avalanche or other seismic activity that caused the city to be covered up, which is why this ruin has been left relatively undisturbed over the years. Another reason is that a local tribe of ratlings seem to consider this holy ground for some reason and regularly make pilgrimages here. Because of this the nearby Kingdom of New Roanoke has always given the area a wide berth. We captured one of the ratlings and interrogation revealed that they have an unspoken agreement with the people of New Roanoke to leave this area alone. Of course that made things a little bit difficult for us. We had no qualm with the ratlings but couldn’t see a way to get a large team inside the sewers without desecrating their holy ground.”

“So you fought your way in,” Rip said.

“Not exactly,” replied the colonel. “Like I said, we didn’t wish to start an unnecessary conflict with the ratlings so we found another way. We’ve developed an airborne pathogen capable of putting just about any humanoid life-form that we’ve come into contact with into a fairly deep coma-like state for a few days. Afterward the anti-bodies naturally produced by the subject’s immune system overcome the virus and the subject returns to consciousness quite hungry and thirsty but with no permanent injury. It’s effective in 99.9% of all cases. We’ve studied the virus extensively and developed a vaccine for our own people, so it was simply a matter of sending one of our own people into the ratling community as a carrier with the pretense of trading and waiting for it to take effect. Once the majority of the ratling tribe was affected, we took a couple of days to move in.”

“I have to give you credit, Copper. I didn’t figure you people were the type to use biological warfare,” Rip said wryly.

“We don’t like to think of it as warfare, Rip,” Copper said. “It’s much more humane than engaging them in a holy war for their sacred ground. We’ve been very careful ever since we arrived to keep up the pretense of the sewers being uninhabited. Although you and your companion have made that a little difficult.”

“What can I say? I like the smell of ratling blood in the morning. Besides, it was self-defense. The sons of bitches attacked us,” said Rip, remembering the grisly incident with a bit of self-satisfaction.

“You don’t have to justify yourselves to us,” Copper responded. “We managed to clean it up relatively quickly. With any luck, the ratling tribe will figure they got eaten by one of the other wilderness monsters out here on their way back to the camp.”

“So that’s why there wasn’t a sign of the whole mess on our way out!” Thebes exclaimed.

“It doesn’t explain where you put my ATV,” Rip said, crossing his arms.

“Shortly after arriving we discovered a hidden vehicle bay here,” said Copper, pointing to a spot on the map. “We’ve used it to store our vehicles, supplies, and power armor, as well as a few other things.”

“Okay, so you’ve managed to keep the rats busy with your little bug, you’ve hidden my ATV in some secret vehicle bay, and you cleaned up the rat puree. That’s all well and good until you started drilling holes in the ground to get to this hidden section. The monsters are sure as hell gonna notice that,” Rip said.

“Yes, well, that might be a problem. But we don’t intend to leave it that way for long. We’re going to seal it up after we’ve found the hidden access passage. Of course that’s proven a bit difficult for us. So we’ve decided to approach the problem from another direction. And that’s where you come in,” said the colonel.

“Oh don’t tell me,” Rip said rolling his eyes.

“That’s right, Rip. I’m sending you along with my team to find that hidden passage, from the inside.”

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

2010-01-08T01:17:00.000-08:00

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.”

Rip's Holiday

2010-01-01T00:37:00.000-08:00

Rip is taking a holiday for the New Year. So should you. Go spend time with your family. Enjoy the day off. Count your blessings. Get some rest. See a movie. Have a barbecue. Yada yada yada.

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

2009-12-24T23:22:00.000-08:00

“I’m sorry, Colonel, but I think you have me confused with someone who gives a damn about this continent,” Rip began. “I still don’t believe that crap about a detox cure, if you think that’s supposed to win me over. I’m ready to die. I’ve had one helluva life and to be quite honest, I’m tired of this shitty world. I never was very excited about trying to save it, and to be frank, I think you’re wasting your time. So you have an army of glitter boys. Big deal. Free Quebec has an army of ‘em and they haven’t saved the world yet. I used to be all idealistic like you guys are. That’s why I joined the Quebecois military. And that little decision convinced me that my idealism was worthless. Quebec joined the Coalition States to help be part of a better world. You know what happened? They got attacked by their own so-called ‘countrymen’ when Prosek decided to pursue his little vendetta against Tolkeen and the Quebecois wanted none of it. I wound up fighting the same damn soldiers I was raised to believe were my allies. It’s a cruel, harsh, unforgiving world out there, Copper. I’m ready to be done with it. Even if your ‘cure’ does work, you think I’d waste my life following your hopeless little dream of rebuilding America? Sit and spin, lady.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Rip,” Col. Copper scowled. As Thebes looked on rather heartbrokenly, the colonel looked to the sergeant standing at the door and said, “Bring him in, Colby.”

“Yes, ma’am!” he responded and quickly ducked away.

“So what, you got somebody who uses flowery words to try to convince me? Give it up. I ain’t buyin’ it.”

But Rip wasn’t prepared for what happened next. As he stared at the door expecting some smooth-talking militant to come in and try to convince him of the impossible, his jaw nearly dropped at what he saw instead. A familiar face that he never expected to see again stepped through. He was a blonde-haired, dark-eyed man of tawny complexion and scars that bore the wear of years of heavy combat. Colonel Roget Lavoisier, his former superior in the Quebecois Special Forces, Juicer Division. He was everything Rip had ever aspired to be: a stone-cold killer, quick, methodical, efficient, and utterly without remorse. He had worked in the art of death the way a cyber-doc worked in the art of bionic conversion. He was utterly without fear and focused on his craft unlike any other soldier Rip had ever seen. Back in his days of working for the Quebecois military, Rip had idolized the man.

He was wearing a N.E.M.A. jacket and sporting a most unusual sidearm. On top of his head he wore a green beret and around his collar was the insignia of an Army colonel. “Bon jour, Lt. Col. le Blanc,” he smiled as he spoke. As Rip continued to gap with awe, the man continued. “I understand Isabelle here caught you stumbling across our little operation.”

“That’s right,” Col. Copper turned to Rip, eyebrows raised. She had played a trump card and Rip knew it. “I’ll leave to let you and Col. Lavoisier get reacquainted.” She then stepped outside and shut the door, leaving Rip, Thebes, and Col. Lavoisier alone.

Thebes looked quizzical. She wasn’t sure what to make of this reunion. She suspected that Lavoisier and Rip had been comrades-in-arms at one point, but didn’t quite grasp the extent of it. “So, Rip, you know him I take it?”

“This man was like a father to me. He was my C.O. back in my days serving as Quebec Special Forces. I would have followed him to Hell. But he should be dead. He was already three years in when I got juiced. There is no way he could be alive.” Rip stood up in deference to Lavoisier, although he still half-believed he was staring at a ghost.

“It’s really me, Chenille,” Lavoisier said. “I’m alive and I feel better than ever. A couple years back the Army told me that they had a pilot program for juicers who had proven themselves to be exemplary officers. They had a new detox regimen for me to try which was supposed to increase my chances of kicking the juice and said if I was successful, they’d promote me to brigadier-general. At first I wasn’t interested. I had been a juicer for six and a half years. I thought my fate was sealed and I was ready to accept it. However, they managed to convince me that I was worth more to them alive than dead. So I tried their new detox regimen, but all it led to was the bottle. While I was at the military clinic in Trois-Riviéres, feeling lousier than I’d ever felt before, a nurse came into my room and told me that the Army detox program was not going to help me, that I had grown too dependent on the juice and that unless I trusted her, I would be dead in under a month. I was miserable and ready to try anything, so I did as she said. She gave me a shot of something and attached a device to my chest. I suddenly felt immensely better. She then told me how to get away from the clinic at night when the doctors wouldn’t notice and told me a vehicle would pick me up on the outskirts of the city. She said the people in the vehicle would give me another shot to keep me going and get me to a top-secret facility where I would be back to normal in less than three days. I followed her directions and met the vehicle like she said. After a man from the vehicle gave me a second shot, I passed out. I woke up in southern Pennsylvania two days later a different man. It wasn’t painful. I don’t even remember it. All I know is that these people, the Republicans, gave me a new lease on life. Since then I have seen incredible things and learned the true history about the Great Cataclsym. The Republicans are the good guys, Chenille. They have a plan, an excellent plan, to bring true peace, freedom and solidarity to the people of North America.”

“I’m sorry, Rip, but why does he keep calling you Chenille? Isn’t chenille a kind of fabric?” Thebes asked.

“It means ‘caterpillar’ in Old French,” Rip replied. “It was my call-sign in the Quebecois military.”

“Oh,” Thebes said after scratching her head for a second.

“It’s because of the way I used to crawl along the ground when we went commando. Stupid nickname, really.”

Thebes couldn’t help but grin. “I’m just learning all sorts of stuff about you today, Chenille.”

“My name,” he began angrily, “is RIP. And I’m not a lieutenant colonel anymore,” he said, turning to his former commander. “I haven’t been one since I left the SF in 107, right after you were declared dead as I recall. They said you were going on leave and you never came back. Word from the brass was that you heard Last Call. After that I attempted to resign my commission, but they branded me a traitor and tried to have me executed. That’s when I fled to the New West and made myself a new career as a merc. So tell me, Lavoisier, why should I listen to you after you abandoned me?”

“Because, mon ami, not only do we have a plan, we have the means to make it happen. You’ve already seen some of their amazing technology. They have the most incredible weapons I have ever seen as well; powerful, accurate, utterly stunning weapons. I may not be as strong or as quick as I once was, but with their superior technology, I am just as deadly on the battlefield. I know it sounds unbelievable, but it’s true. You are dying, Etienne. You can’t do anything to prevent it. But the Republicans’ detox process; it is your chance to get your life back. And on top of that, you will have a life worth living. The Coalition States, those back-stabbing sons of bitches, we are going to take them down, all of them. I’m talking Prosek, his son, his generals, all of them. It’s going to happen, and you can be a part of it.”

“Decapitate the heads of CS government eh?” Rip rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re that naïve. All you’re gonna do is create a power vacuum. You’ll throw the whole continent into complete chaos and open the door for the bugs or the Splugies to take us over. And you want me to help clean that up? No thanks. I’d rather go to Hell. At least there I’d have a chance.”

“It’s not so simple as all that. You have to trust me.”

“And why should I trust you, huh? You left me once. As far as I’m concerned you’ve got nada credibility left.”

“Damn it, Etienne! Don’t you see? I wanted to make a difference so that men and women like you wouldn’t have to waste their lives killing their fellow mankind. It is the demons of the world that we should be worried about, not the petty bickering amongst ourselves. And for the record, I never abandoned you. I had the Republicans try to hunt you down to recruit you as well as soon as I recovered. But by that time you had already vanished. The official line from Quebec was that you were executed for treason, but I knew better than that. I knew you were too good of a soldier to let yourself be captured. And I have never stopped looking for you. You were my best officer and the best damn shot I have ever seen. Please, mon ami. Give me a chance to prove it to you. At least let them get that damned harness off you. Then you will see I am not lying. I promise you, I will show you our plan, and if you still want to leave. I will let you.”

Thebes sat rapt with attention at Lavoisier’s words. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. If it was truly possible to overturn the oppressive empire of the Proseks, she couldn’t imagine what improvements might be made. Rip meanwhile seemed to remain skeptical, but ponderous. He put his head in his hands for a moment and sighed. “Give me a day to think about it,” he said.

“That, I will give you, mon ami. Mademoiselle Antilles, I take it by the look on your face you would like to know more?” Lavoisier asked.

“Oh yes, please!” she said excitedly.

“Then come with me,” he beamed, offering her his arm.

She stood up but looked back at Rip. “Will you be okay here by yourself?” she queried.

“I’ll be peachy,” he replied.

“Terrific! Let’s go, er, monsieur Lavoisier,” she said, taking his arm.

“Please, call me Roget,” he said politely.

“Alright then, Roget. Show me everything!” And with that, they exited the room, leaving Rip sitting on his bed and thinking hard.

Rip's Adventures: Rip and the Tunnel, Part VIII

2009-12-17T21:15:00.000-08:00

“The Republi-whats?” Rip asked in confusion. Even during his time in Quebec Special Forces he had never heard of such a group.

“Yea, I’m a little lost too,” Thebes added. “We thought you were Neemans. At least that’s what your insignias say.”

The red-haired woman smirked and looked down on her N.E.M.A. badge. “So goes the legend,” she replied. “The truth is the ‘Neemans,’ as you put it, died out a long time ago. We are merely vestiges of that organization, more properly known as the Northern Eagle Military Alliance, a peace-keeping group that once existed for the sole purpose of defending Canada, Mexico, and the United States of America. I myself am part of the 14th generation descended from a group of people who survived the Great Cataclysm and swore to uphold the values and beliefs of the American republic as it existed before the Coming of the Rifts. Hence, we now refer to ourselves as the Republicans and wear the symbol of N.E.M.A. as homage to those brave heroes who alone defended America against the alien invaders who arrived in the aftermath of the Great Cataclysm.”

“Wait a second. I remember now,” Thebes piped up excitedly. “Erin Tarn wrote about you in ‘Our World.’ But she said you lay claim to Washington, D.C., the old capital of the American Empire. She never mentioned anything about Virginia. And she said you were locked in some kind of war with an unknown enemy. I can’t believe you really exist!”

“It’s true,” Col. Copper responded with a nod. “We’ve existed since the Great Cataclysm itself.”

Rip thought all of this was only mildly interesting. He was more concerned about being let out of the confining cell. He was not about to let two women gab on about the past while he was a prisoner. “Look, if all this history crap is true and you do believe in freedom and that other garbage, why are we being confined like no-good thieves? We didn’t do anything to hurt you.”

“That may be the case, Lt. Col. le Blanc…”

“Don’t call me that. My name is Rip,” he interrupted.

“Fine then, Rip. That may be the case, but I’m afraid the existence of our group has to remain a secret, at least for now, and you were very close to learning too much, not to mention extreme danger.”

“I’m a juicer, lady. Danger is what I do best.”

“Why yes. I’m quite aware of that. I’m also aware that your time on Earth is growing short. Our bio-scans picked that up as you entered our facility?”

“What are you talking about?” Thebes asked with worry on her face.

“Godsdammit, this is why I didn’t say anything. Women get too emotional about the subject. I’m fine. I’ll be around for at least a month longer, maybe a few if I’m lucky. Plenty of time to finish your damn mission.”

“That’s not what I was…” Thebes began but was interrupted by Col. Copper.

“We also know about your telepathic abilities Miss Antilles.”

“What?” Thebes asked. “How? Do you have psi-stalkers around here?”

“No, but I think you’ll find our bio-scanners to be quite comprehensive. We’ve even learned to detect psychic abilities.”

“That’s impossible!” Thebes exclaimed. “That kind of technology doesn’t even exist.”

“I believe you’ll also find we are far more technologically advanced than the Coalition States, even most of the alien races that now inhabit our planet.”

“Wait. Most?” Thebes looked quizzical.

“Well, we aren’t mages, so we don’t quite understand techno-wizardry or Splugorth bio-wizardry, although we’ve learned to detect the presence of devices using such magic. But in all other ways we are technologically superior or equal to every other race we’ve encountered on this planet.”

“If that’s the case, why don’t you own this planet already?” Rip asked tiredly. This conversation had begun to bore him immensely. He wished this Col. Copper would stop with her encyclopedic responses and stick with simpler answers.

Thankfully to Rip, Col. Copper’s next reply was actually quite simple. “To put it bluntly, we’ve been fairly limited in numbers for ages. But that’s all about to change.”

“Oh, do tell,” Rip said sarcastically. He detected another long-winded soliloquy coming on.

“Truth is we have far more weapons, power armor, and tools than we have manpower. We have the supplies to equip an army; laser rifles, particle beam weapons, golden eagles, chromium guardsmen…”

“Huh? Golden eagles? Chromium what?” Even Thebes was starting to get confused now. She hadn’t heard of some of the stuff Col. Copper mentioned.

“Chromium guardsmen. I believe you know them as ‘glitter boys.’ And golden eagles are much like the S.A.M.A.S. power armor suits used by the Coalition, although ours are a little bit more advanced than even their latest models,” Copper replied.

“You mean to tell me you have an army of glitter boy suits and no one to use them?” Rip asked skeptically.

“In a word, yes. That’s pretty much our situation,” responded the red-haired woman.

“That’s unbelievable. How?” Thebes querried.

“I’m afraid that’s going to have to remain our secret for now,” Copper said. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we have them, and we’re recruiting.”

“Now it all makes sense,” Rip was finally coming to understand why he and Thebes had been kidnapped. “You’re trying to bring us into this little war of yours aren’t you? You snatch people up, bring ‘em in here and attempt to brainwash them with this noble story of past heroism and preserving the old empire.”

“America was never an empire,” Col. Copper said sternly. “It was a democratic republic, not a totalitarian fascist state like that the Proseks have built. The Americans of old did not believe in oppression and dictatorship. They believed in justice and truth, as we now do. So do not lecture me about brainwashing because that is not who we are.”

“Prove it. Let us go,” Rip demanded, getting up and staring down Col. Copper.

She glowered at him for a few moments, clearly not intimidated. Then a wry smile formed on her face. She held up her hand and pressed a button on her arm-guard. The door behind her opened and two Republican soldiers peered inside. “Is everything alright Colonel?” one of them asked.

“Yes, everything is fine. This man would like to leave. Please escort him and his charge out and give them back their ATV. That is of course, unless they’d like to stay and learn more about the tunnel they discovered.”

One of the soldiers cocked his eye, but before he could say anything, Thebes blurted out, “No! I mean, are you telling me that Neeman complex we found is yours?”

“Actually no,” Copper replied. “But it is the reason we’re here.”

“Rip, hold on. Let’s stay and listen to what she has to say. I’m still paying you to work for me and I want to know more.”

“I thought you were paying me to defend you. And I think getting out of this place is the best thing for both of us right now.”

“Well if you leave me behind, you’re definitely not getting paid. So look at it that way.”

Rip groaned in frustration. He hated this kind of stuff. But Thebes had a point. He definitely wasn’t getting paid if she was going to be stubborn and stay here to listen to more of Col. Copper’s patronizing sob-story. “Fine. Whatever you want.” Rip stood down and went back over to lie on his pad.

“Okay, sorry about him. He’s a mercenary. I’m sure you know his type,” said Thebes apologetically.

“Quite,” replied the colonel. “We’ve actually dealt with number of his kind over the past few years. Especially juicers approaching Last Call.”

“Why is that?” Thebes asked. She was rather puzzled to hear that they would want people who were near death.

“Well, to be frank, we have something to offer such desperate individuals: a cure for their addiction,” the colonel said smugly.

Rip sat up. He had a disbelieving frown on his face. “Yea, you and every detox clinic from here to Colorado. All hype and no substance. They do a disservice to all juicers by offering them false hope, just like I saw during the Juicer Uprising. You think I’m going to believe that bullshit?”

“You don’t have to believe it. But you wouldn’t be the first. We’ve actually cured a number of juicers five years or older with better than ninety-five percent success.”

“Impossible,” Rip said. “And even if it wasn’t, they’d be nothing but a shadow of their former selves. No juicer wants to live with that. I’d rather die on the battlefield.”

Copper nodded. “While it’s true that you’d no longer have the enhanced reflexes and strength that non-stop adrenaline and synthetamines give you, our medicine is far beyond that of which you currently know. We can prevent almost all of the negative side effects and reduce the average detox time from two and half weeks to less than two days, as well as provide powerful sedatives and an anti-addiction procedure that make the process much easier to endure. It’s nothing short of a medical miracle, and we’re willing to offer it to you for free.”

“I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, colonel,” Rip said with disbelief. Surely there had to be a catch.

“I suppose you’re right. It’s only free in the sense that we wouldn’t demand payment in credits.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Rip said, his superciliousness quite evident.

“I think you’ll find that what we have to offer in exchange for your abilities as a juicer is more than worth it. You’ll be given access to our enormous stockpile of advanced weapons and armor, not to mention a cause worth fighting for.”

“And what cause would that be?”

The colonel smiled. “The only cause worth fighting for, Rip: the freedom of the entire continent.”

Rip's Adventures: Rip and the Tunnel, Part VII

2009-12-11T04:40:00.000-08:00

“Lieutenant Colonel Etienne le Blanc, please place your weapons on the ground,” demanded one of the soldiers in Neeman armor.

Now Rip was freaked out. These men and women were not using standard-issue Quebecois armaments, so how did the fraggers know his real name or his former rank in the army of Free Quebec? For that matter, how did they manage to sneak up on him like that? Still, he didn’t need to calculate his odds on this one. His body armor was resilient, but he wasn’t going to take a chance at getting hit by some type of weapon he had never seen before, even if he could move faster than any normal soldier could shoot. Besides, he had heard legends of the Neemans. Their technology was said to have been greater than that of the Splugorth if the stories were to be believed! Then there was his promise to Thebes. After a half-second pause, Rip carefully laid his NG-57s on the ground, then slowly removed his other weapons and did likewise with them.

“Well, you already know I’m former Quebecois Special Forces,” Rip said. “But seeing how you aren’t very friendly, I’m guessing you’re not with them.”

The soldiers did not respond, except to point them back to the sewers while another one gathered up their weapons. “I think they want us to get back into the sewers,” Thebes said with a little apprehension.

“Yea I gathered that. Want me to give you a boost?”

“Sure.”

Before Thebes and Rip climbed back in, several of the soldiers climbed in first, probably to prevent them from making a run for it in the sewers.

“Quebec Special Forces, huh? You never told me that,” Thebes stated as Rip gave her a leg up into the sewers for the second time today.

“You never told me you were a telepath. I guess we all have our secrets.”

“You hide your accent well.”

“I’ve spent most of my life speaking American. It’s my old French that’s probably a little rusty.”

“And your real name is Etienne?” she chuckled. “I can see why you changed it to Rip.”

“Go jump in a rift, Thebes.”

“Oh no, I think it’s cute. At least your parents didn’t name you after a city in ancient Egypt.”

“You will walk in silence!” ordered one of the Neemans as they traipsed through the sewer passages. “Next time I won’t ask.”

Rip suddenly heard a voice in his head, “Don’t worry. I can still read your thoughts and send you messages. I’m sure there is a way out of this.”

Suddenly Rip began to see the advantages of having a psychic on his side. He just hoped whoever these people were, they didn’t employ psi-hounds or psi-stalkers like the Coalition States did.

They marched on for what seemed like an hour. Thebes began to get the distinct impression that they were going around in circles, and she told Rip as much telepathically. When she read Rip’s mind he was thinking that this was probably to confuse them as to their actual location in the sewers. Finally the Neemans told them to halt and one of them pulled a small metal orb with glowing green buttons out of a pocket on his belt. He pressed a combination of buttons on the orb, and then a portion of the sewer wall opened up to reveal an interior hallway that was well-lit and made of some kind of ceramic siding; definitely hi-tech stuff. Rip had seen similar structures on the inside of Coalition fortress-cities, but these were even slicker and more advanced than those. As they traveled down the seemingly-empty corridor the lights increased in intensity wherever they went and faded in the areas they were leaving. Rip also got the distinct impression that they were being monitored by some type of visual interface as there were black discs built into the ceiling every 6 meters or so. It was unlike anything he had ever seen.

Finally they came to what appeared to be a door, although it was unlike any door Rip could remember. It was differentiated from the wall only in the sense that there was a slight depression of a centimeter or less and about 1.5 meters in width. The man in the lead removed his armored gauntlet and helmet and placed his hand on the right side of the wall. As he did, a blue light issued from the wall around his hand and a similar light scanned his facial features. When the blue lights went off, there was a slight “whoosh” as the door slid open allowing egress into the room beyond. The man in charge replaced his helm and gauntlet and ushered Thebes and Rip inside what seemed like a small holding cell. The whole place was very Spartan. There were two cushioned pads which Rip guessed to be beds and a single latrine but nothing else of interest in the room besides four red half-orbs that seemed built into the ceiling.

“You will stay here until Copper wishes to speak with you,” the Neeman in charge demanded.

“And who is this Copper?” Rip asked in the most polite tone he could manage.

“You will be silent unless a reply is asked of you!” the man insisted again with spite in his voice.

“Sheesh. Give a guy a break. I just want to know what’s going on. Did we piss on the wrong stump or something?”

The man said nothing this time, but instead walked right up to Rip and said, “I know exactly what kind of man you are, and don’t think for one minute that intimidates me at all. When I order you to be silent you will be silent.”

Rip found this threat a bit incredulous. Sure, he was outmanned and outgunned, but when he thought about it, he had been in much worse situations before. “Or what?” he rebelliously replied.

Suddenly the half-orbs began to emit a very intense light that focused itself on Rip. He attempted to dodge the beams but amazingly, he was not quick enough to avoid their glare. As the red light struck him he suddenly felt extremely nauseated, dizzy, and unbalanced. His nose began to bleed profusely again and he felt like every part of his body was heating up causing an intense and debilitating sensation of pain that even his bio-comp could not overcome. He stood there motionless, unable to move due to the acute pain he was feeling, a sensation he had not experienced since he underwent the juicer procedure. It was a complete shock to him. He was used to his bio-comp and drug harness being able to compensate for any pain he had felt for the last five years, and now, to have it return so suddenly and with such intensity was too much to bear. Within a few moments, his vision went dark and he blacked out.

When Rip awoke, he was lying on a bed in the cell with Thebes looking over him. She had a wet cloth and she was trying to cool his forehead. “Ugh. I feel like complete shit,” Rip murmured. “What in the hells happened?”

“You passed out. You’ve been unconscious for more than a half hour. The Neemans left. I can’t figure out a way to get us out of here. That door didn’t even seem to have a visible control pad. I wouldn’t know where to start looking for a possible override even if I did have the technical know-how to do it.”

“That’s okay, Thebes,” Rip replied. “Right now I think I just need to rest for a few minutes to gather my strength back.”

“After you fell unconscious, the Neemans put you on the bed and left without saying another word. I’ve been thinking this through again and again and I still have no idea what they want with us. I thought the Neemans were supposed to be heroes. At least that’s what all the old legends say. These people seem like militant guerillas.”

“You noticed that eh?” the juicer responded sarcastically. He hated these Neemans already. And if they were the ones who built those pesky robot spiders, he liked them even less.

“Well, the best I can figure we just wait here to speak with this Copper, whoever he is.”

“I guess you’re right,” Rip said, then after a short pause, “Look I’m gonna pass out for a while, wake me if something important happens.”

“That won’t be necessary Lt. Col. le Blanc,” came a voice from the door, which had suddenly opened. In stepped a woman with dark red hair, sparking green eyes, and a dour countenance. “My name is Colonel Isabelle Copper. I represent the Republicans. We have some questions for you and your partner, Ms. Thebes Antilles.”

Rip's Adventures: Rip and the Tunnel, Part VI

2009-12-11T03:48:00.000-08:00

“What are you talking about?” asked Thebes as she took off her helmet and looked around. “You mean that was here? How can you tell?”

“Well, you’re the one mapping the place. How can you not tell?”

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to the exact location where we encountered the ratlings. Should I have?”

“Always remember where your enemy fell. But don’t worry about it. That’s why you brought me along. There’s something strange about these sewers. You said the ratlings might have rifted in, yet we aren’t on a ley line. Then we come back a couple hours later and not only are their bodies gone, someone also wiped down the walls. This doesn’t make any sense. Do you know of any sewer monsters that do shit like this?”

“First of all, I’m no practitioner of magic, but from what I know it is theoretically possible for a rift to open without a ley line; extremely unlikely, but possible. As for where the ratlings went, I haven’t a clue. I mean, I can think of a number of ways someone might do this, I just have no idea why, or how they accomplished it in such a short time. Anything large enough to eat all eight of them certainly couldn’t fit inside these sewers, at least not easily. And if eating them was the point, why go to the trouble to clean up after yourself?”

“You’re right, there’s something else going on around here. And I don’t like it one bit.”

“If you have any theories, I’m open to them. Otherwise, there’s no point in standing around here just talking about it. We still need to get to the ATV.”

“You’re right, Thebes. The best thing to do right now is to hustle our way out of here before we vanish like those ratlings.”

“Exactly what I was thinking. You’re on point.”

Rip proceeded back through the sewers. All kinds of things were going through his head right now, none of them good. He had tangled with his fair share of supernatural terrors and didn’t know what type of beast might want to play games with them like this. The Minions of Splugorth were crafty, but not the kind to clean up their messes so well. They were pretty far from the Federation of Magic, so he doubted that they were involved. And it wasn’t like the Shemarrians to travel this far inland, or to interest themselves in underground complexes like this. They preferred a face-to-face battle, just like Rip did. This smacked of mind tricks, and Rip did not like it when someone was trying to screw with his head. It made him very uneasy. However he was caught off guard when Thebes broke the silence again.

“Rip, can I ask you a question?”

“Uh, sure, I guess.”

“Back there in the cavern, when we were running away from the spider ‘bots, why did you consider leaving me behind?”

“Huh? What are you talking about? I wasn’t gonna leave you behind. That would be stupid; you’re my meal ticket.”

“Don’t lie to me, Rip. I didn’t tell you this before because I didn’t think it necessary, but I’m a telepath. When you started running away and picked me up, there wasn’t much I could do to help in that situation. I certainly can’t run anywhere near as fast as you so I was a little bit panicked. I read your thoughts because I wanted to know if you believed we were going to make it. You thought about leaving me behind. The only reason you didn’t is because there were two of them, and you figured I would only distract one; that and the money, which you just mentioned. But it’s not like that makes me feel any better.”

Rip stood in silence for a few moments. He did feel a little bit ashamed of himself, more for his cowardice than anything else. Then again, he hadn’t survived this long because of his sense of charity. He had survived this long because he looked out for number one. Rifts Earth was a dangerous place to live, and sometimes he had to look the other way while others suffered. That was just reality. Of course, knowing Thebes was a psychic meant he had to watch what he was thinking from now on. That was going to be a huge pain in the ass.

“Look, I’m sorry for…”

“Don’t apologize when you don’t mean it,” Thebes interrupted him. “I get it okay. You’re a mercenary. You kill for a living. You don’t get attached to the people you work for. But if I’m paying you to protect me, godsdamnit you are gonna protect me! Is that clear?”

Rip looked down and nodded. He knew she was right. She had never pretended like this was going to be an easy mission. He knew the risks when he got involved. It wasn’t like him to throw innocents to the dogs just to save himself, no matter how much he valued his own hide. What did he have to lose anyway? Blood was pouring out his nose right now and he never got nosebleeds. Last Call was not too far away. He probably had a few months left, maybe less. He had had a good run. There was not any point wasting what little life he had left acting like a yellow-bellied fraidy-cat.

Thebes, apparently wanting a more definitive answer took a determined step forward. Even though Rip was over a foot taller than she was and twice as massive, she looked up to him with severity. “I said ‘Is that clear, soldier?’”

Rip furled his brow and grunted, “Yes, ma’am. Crystal.”

“Good. Now let’s get back to the ATV before it gets dark.”

Rip put out the light and engaged his thermal imager while Thebes put her helmet back on and switched on her nightvision headset. Rip led the rest of the way, taking directions from Thebes when necessary, but he had a pretty good sense of direction and remembered most of the turns. Finally, they came to the sewer exit. Rip hopped down the six foot descent and reached up to help Thebes down. She took his hand and he pulled her gently down so she would not trip on the mossy sludge that had built up over the years of drainage.

“I’m surprised the drainage system hasn’t been completely clogged after all these centuries,” Thebes noted.

“Yea, it does seem a little odd. Didn’t you say Blacksburg has been completely buried?”

“Well, leveled is probably a better way of putting it. During the Great Cataclysm enormous tidal waves miles high are rumored to have spread inland. It’s quite possible they got this far and washed away all signs of the city, leaving nothing but underground structures. Then there were also hurricanes, tornados, tsunamis, blizzards, and all other kinds of crazy weather. No one living today seems to know exactly what it was like, but it must have been a nightmare for people living in that time.”

Rip was about to agree with her when he suddenly got the feeling that something was not right. The woods were too quiet. That, plus the amazing disappearing ratlings unsettled him greatly.

“Stay here, Thebes,” he whispered. “I’m going to go check on the ATV. Maybe it’s just my imagination but something seems wrong.”

“Okay, be careful.” Thebes pulled out her Wilk’s 320 laser pistol and squatted behind a nearby bush to take cover.

Rip withdrew his NG-57s carefully from their holsters and crawled carefully and quietly through the brush towards the ATV which they had parked about fifty yards away in a concealed area. When he got within visual range he couldn’t believe his eyes. The ATV was gone! Now Rip was certain something was up. Whatever devilry was causing these freakish incidents was really starting to get to him. He and Thebes were definitely in danger. He turned around and crawled back to Thebes as quickly as he could, making sure to check behind him regularly in case anyone was following him.

“The ATV is gone, Thebes,” he said, crawling out of the brush. Then, turning his head back towards her, he stated, “We’ve got a major problem…”

“Yea, we do.” Thebes didn’t let him finish. She was standing there with her arms on top of her head, surrounded by at least a dozen figures in dark grey full body armor holding rifles the likes of which Rip had never seen before. The unmistakable symbol of the Neemans was etched into the top left breast of each soldier’s armor.

Rip's Adventures: Rip and the Tunnel, Part V

2009-11-23T22:15:00.000-08:00

They had been backtracking for about an hour now. First they climbed back up the tunnel and now they were in the sewers again. Soon they would be coming across the dead ratlings if Rip had his bearings right. He smiled at the thought of their grisly remains lying there, a testament to his skill. Still, something was bothing Rip. “Uh, Thebes, I know I ain’t good at mapping and that kinda stuff, but I’m a fair tracker and it seems to me like we’ve been through this part of the sewers before,” Rip observed.

“That’s right. We need to go back to New Roanoke.”

“What? Go back? Why? I thought you said you had a plan!”

“I do. That’s why we have to go back to New Roanoke.”

“What the hell good is that gonna do?”

“We’re not properly equipped.”

“Not properly equipped? We must have brought everything and the kitchen sink too! If it’s not in my backpack we can just get it out of my ATV parked outside the sewers.”

“Nope. I’m pretty sure you didn’t bring what I’m thinking of.”

“Try me.”

“Fusion blocks.”

“What the frag do you need those for? You aren’t planning on making the tunnel bigger are you?”

“No. I’m planning on making a new tunnel.”

“But you said…” Rip was about to say something, but Thebes cut him off.

“Okay, look. When I examined my notes closely I noticed something peculiar.”

At this, Thebes pulled out a pocket computer and put up a holographic projection. It looked like the cavern they had just escaped from. Three sides of the cavern were rough and natural looking. The other side was smooth and somewhat rounded in shape, but it only formed part of a sphere, like the cavern was exposing that part of it and the rest was buried. “This is what the cavern looks like according to data I gathered from the laser distancer. Going off the hypothesis that the Neeman structure is spherical in shape, I examined my maps of the sewers and realized there is actually a portion of the sewers here,” she pointed to an area of space beyond the hologram of the cavern and the computer immediately extrapolated a spherical shape of the structure outward towards her finger, “where the sewers come much closer to the structure than the original tunnel does. It’s so close in fact that a few powerful fusion blocks should get us inside. No need for crawling down long tunnels. No need for walking through huge caverns filled with hostile ‘bots. I didn’t think of it before because I didn’t have my laser distancer to give me an accurate enough picture of the Neeman structure and the cavern. The best part about entering here is that it would take us inside without exposing us to the cavern…and those robot spiders.”

“Okay…” Rip pondered this a moment. He was not stupid, but this sounded a little technical to him and he was not a technical type. Nevertheless, he had one nagging question. “If you’ve got that holographic mapping computer and you already mapped out the entire sewer, why didn’t you just copy a map of the sewer from your notes into the computer before we came down here? Then you might have noticed this the first moment you stepped into the cavern and turned on the laser distancer.”

Thebes sighed and made an apologetic face towards Rip. “I just bought the computer in New Roanoke. I kinda forgot I had it.”

If it had not been pitch black in the sewers, you could have seen Rip’s face turn beet red with frustration. “Fusion blocks it is!” he said, throwing up his arms and pushing past Thebes on his way towards the sewer exit.

“Umm, Rip…” Thebes spoke timidly, not wanting to anger him further.

“What?” he responded with no small amount of resentment.

“Your nose is bleeding.”

Rip put his hand up to his nose. It was not just bleeding, it was gushing blood. He could not imagine why he failed to notice, except that he was extremely frustrated with Thebes right now. However the realization of what was happening hit him as he pulled out a rag to place under his nose. It was the first sign of Last Call. Rip was stunned. He thought he had at least a few more years left in him, but it was now apparent that he would be checking out soon. A wave of worry and concern overcame him for a brief moment.

“Are you okay?” Thebes sounded concerned. After all, Rip was being quiet and acting contemplative for once.

“Everything’s fine,” he lied. “We should get moving.”

He held the rag to his face until the nosebleed clotted, and then he threw it to the ground. Normally, he would worry about someone being able to track his blood, but this time he did not much care. He had not seen any indication of creatures in the sewers that would be able to track him that way. Besides, the rag was soaked with his blood and he did not have any place to put it.

They trudged through the sewers for several more minutes. Rip’s bio-comp quickly compensated for any negative emotions and he soon forgot why he was upset with Thebes and the nosebleed. He began to remember the satisfied feeling he was anticipating by the chance to admire his handiwork with the ratlings again. They would be passing the site of the battle by any minute now. Yep, any minute now, they would be coming across the mangled and dismembered corpses of eight ratlings, eight kills that Rip had seen through to the very end with his very eyes. This part of the sewers was very recognizable. They had to be close. He remembered the spurting blood coming from the ratling’s hand and poor Thebes standing there in shock. The blood was all over her, all over the walls. Yes, any second now they would come across that grim scene and Rip would have another good jab at Thebes for that one. Any second…

Rip switched off his thermal enhancer and lit his electric lamp to have a better look. “Thebes?”

“Huh?” Thebes was clearly distracted. She was now using her laser distancer to make a more accurate map of the sewers as they traveled.

“Where are the ratlings? And for that matter, where is the blood? I thought we painted the walls. This place has been scrubbed clean!”

Rip's Adventures: Rip and the Tunnel, Part IV

2009-11-19T22:13:00.000-08:00

Thebes was cradled in Rip’s arms as the dust settled around them. She was out like a broken light. Rip set her gently on the ground and listened for breathing. He was no medic, but her breathing seemed normal to him. Hopefully she’d wake up soon. He was already beginning to feel the aftereffects of the adrenaline rush. He knew the biocomp was already kicking in with dopamine to numb the pain and more hormones to compensate for straining himself so hard, but damage had been done. Even though he could not feel it, he knew he had torn several muscles. He would have to rely on his improved juicer healing factor for that. Nevertheless, as he glanced down the tunnel towards the exit, he saw that it had collapsed just like he hoped it would. To add a bit of grim satisfaction to his endeavor, he noticed what seemed to be a metal spider leg sticking out of the rubble.

“Good riddance,” he muttered, but it made him keenly aware of how narrow the escape had been.

Luckily, the cave-in had only occurred behind them and not ahead of them as well—or on top of them. So they weren’t trapped. But if they were going to explore this Neeman ruin Thebes had discovered, they were going to have to find another way in. Rip walked over to Thebes, rifled through her knapsack for a canteen and medical kit, and then dripped some water down her throat. He sprinkled a little on her face to see if he could get her to come to. She sputtered a bit and roused as if from a bad hangover. “Gods what happened?”

Rip dampened some gauze from the medical kit and used it to clean some of the cuts and dirt on Thebes’ face before answering. “Barely made it out alive is what happened. Don’t know what those spider ‘bots were, but they can outrun me. And that’s sayin’ something. If we hadn’t had an impressive lead I doubt we’d have made it.”

“If the legends are true, the Neemans had incredibly advanced technology. It’s possible those ‘bots have stood as guardians for centuries. That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Yea, well, my guns weren’t doing jack-shit. And I didn’t care to stay around to engage in fisticuffs with a ten-foot tall metal spider. We’re gonna have to find another way in.”

“Hold it,” Thebes said, sitting up and grabbing Rip’s arm. “I got lost in these sewers looking for that kid and spent like, three days mapping them out. I know every inch of them by now. There is no other way in. We’ve got to find a way past those things.”

“Sister,” Rip said, looking her straight in the face, “I’ve been in the mercenary business for ten years. I’ve been a juicer for five of those years. I know an unwinnable fight when I see one. We ain’t gettin’ in that way.”

Thebes wiped her forehead with her sleeve. It didn’t accomplish much other than to spread the dirt around. She was covered in dust from the cave-in. “Frag it,” she grumbled.

“Maybe you don’t understand how close we both came to dying back there. You see that pointy piece of metal sticking out of the rubble right over there? That thing was looking to impale you and me as soon as it got close enough. A few more seconds and it would have. Now you give me a platoon of mercenaries or just a handful of juicers with rail guns or plasma weapons and maybe I can deal with that shit, sure. But as it stands, all you got is me, and I don’t think you can afford much else. So unless you’re feeling suicidal, we find another way. Maybe you think just because I’m a juicer I don’t care about death, but I plan to live straight up ‘till Last Call. I got juiced so I’d have a half-way decent chance of surviving a few years into adulthood, not so I could go out in a blaze of glory.”

They were both quiet for a few minutes. Rip pulled out some dried smoked ham and drank some water from his canteen while Thebes pulled out a fairly bright electric lantern and began to pin her notes up on the wall. While Rip wasn’t a cartographer, it quickly became obvious to him that Thebes had made a very detailed map of the area. She clearly was not lying when she said she had mapped the entire sewer complex.

When Thebes hired him, she told him that she had initially discovered the ruins of the pre-Rifts city of Blacksburg, Virginia quite by accident. A small kingdom by the name of New Roanoke had its capital in a town nearby and a child of the ruling house from that town had gone missing. Thebes and an elf wilderness scout by the name of Lorr had set out to find the boy and tracked him to what appeared to be an old cave. However, upon further investigation, it turned out to be an old sewer drainage system. Although the earth had apparently covered up much of the ruins of the city above, the drainage system below continued to feed into a nearby river from an unknown source. It had remained relatively intact since the Great Cataclysm, and they were able to identify the name of the city above by plaques written in American located at various points in the sewer.

During their exploration of the sewers, Thebes and Lorr got separated when they heard an unusual noise. Lorr told Thebes to wait for a moment while he went to investigate. But he never returned. Thebes wandered the sewer for three days, using some of the mapping notes Lorr had left with her and building upon it on her own until she finally found the exit. At that point she found her way back to New Roanoke. Though she never found Lorr or the child, she had come across the tunnel that led to the Neeman ruin. It was at that point she decided she needed some muscle if she were to go back. After interviewing several potential applicants in town, she found Rip, a veteran of both the Juicer Uprising and the Siege of Tolkeen and hired him on the spot.

“You just gonna keep tacking up pages from your notepad all day?” Rip asked. “’Cuz I’m gettin’ bored. And juicers don’t like bein’ bored.”

“Calm down, Julian Amici,” Thebes said with a smirk. “I believe I have a plan.”

Rip's Adventures: Rip and the Tunnel, Part III

2009-11-12T21:44:00.000-08:00

Rip was running at a break-neck pace, carrying Thebes the whole way; there was no way she could outrun these monsters so dragging her along was her best chance at survival (and his best chance of getting paid). He let off a wild blast from his NG-57. It was a lucky shot. It hit the nearest one leaving a scorch mark square in the chest, but it didn’t seem to phase the thing one bit. “Damnit!” he screamed. “Thebes, I don’t suppose you have any idea what these fraggers are!”

“Um, shit, lemmie think a minute,” Thebes was at a loss for words, which wasn’t a good sign. She was always happy to brag about all the stuff she knew about. With every passing second, Rip grew more unnerved. Thebes could identify just about every creepy, crawly D-Bee or supernatural being that walked the earth and she had never seen these, whatever kind of spidery things they were.

“Maybe they’re automated guardians,” Thebes conjectured as Rip let off another blast from his gun more out of blind hope than anything else. It had the same result as before.

“Wait a second. Now you’re guessing?” Rip roared in fury as he looked back to see the two spider-like creatures were gaining fast. He was hot-footing it to the tunnel, but he wasn’t sure he was going to make it. “I thought you were supposed to be some great know-it-all rogue scholar.”

“There’s a reason I’m a scholar, juice-for-brains. I haven’t learned everything yet!”

Rip let off another blast as he trod harder and harder towards the tunnel. It was his only hope. These things were clearly out of his league. They were way too big, and his ion guns were just tickling them. His mind flirted with the idea of leaving Thebes behind, but even that would probably distract only one of them, and even if it worked, he wouldn’t get paid. He had an idea, but he would have to get inside the tunnel first.

One thing was certain, it did seem like Thebes’ guess was right. As he glanced over his shoulder for another blast, he got the distinct feeling that they looked robotic in some way. Perhaps it was the way they were shaped, or the way their legs moved, but it just wasn’t organic. He could also swear he saw some kind of long tubes protruding from their chests which he presumed to be cannons of some sort. That brought him to a new realization—if they did have guns, they hadn’t used them yet, meaning the robots may have been ordered to capture and not kill. He wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse.

The tunnel was getting closer. He could already see the faint drafts of air that outlined it within the extent of his thermal vision. The last time he had turned around to catch sight of the ‘bots the metal wall was out of view. Closer now. The ‘bots felt like they were on his heels. With every foot step he could feel the pounding of their metal legs get closer and closer. He knew they were ‘bots for certain now. He could hear the grinding of gears, the whirling of internal belts, the faint scent of electricity in the air. He could almost feel the wind in their steps. He stopped worrying about turning to shoot and focused all his energy on making that last final sprint for the tunnel. He engaged in a mental exercise he had learned up north from another juicer to instill a false sense of terror, even though these creatures didn’t really horrify him. This induced his bio-comp to increase his adrenaline, giving him a slight increase in speed. It wasn’t much, and he would pay for it later, but it might just be enough to get to the tunnel in time.

When he could see the tunnel within a few leaps and strides he quickly performed the following maneuvers. First, he tossed his NG-57 inside as far up the tunnel as it would go. Then he ripped the top half of his grenade belt off, telling Thebes to hold on to the two parts, five grenades on each side. As he made his first stride he slid one finger and a thumb into each grenade pin. On his second stride, he yanked the pins out. On the third stride he chucked the top half of his grenade belt down towards the exit then kept running like hell up the tunnel, stopping only briefly to grab his gun. A few moments later a great tremor shook the tunnel as the grenades exploded, throwing rock and dust violently about and tossing Rip and Thebes to the ground. Then all was quiet.

Rip's Adventures: Rip and the Tunnel, Part II

2009-11-05T17:48:00.000-08:00

“Holy hells, Rip!” the woman exclaimed. “Did you kill all six of the others yourself already?”

“I told you, Thebes,” the juicer replied coolly, wiping ratling blood off his body armor. “It’s what I do.”

“Ugh, its hand is still spurting blood. My body armor is covered in it,” Thebes grimaced as she looked down. Like her companion, Rip, she was covered in ratling blood. It had sprayed all over her when she had sliced off the hand. Now it lay lifeless on the ground, and while its neck wound was instantly cauterized by the ion beam, the hand wound was gushing blood.

“Are we gonna get on with this or what?” Rip asked. “Don’t tell me you got a problem with blood.”

“No, it’s not that. Let’s keep going.”

Thebes pulled out her notepad and began to examine her notes.

“You know I still don’t get why you have to use that thing,” Rip noted with more than a hint of frustration.

“Well, you’ll pardon me,” Thebes chided, “if I didn’t know I was going to stumble upon an unmarked ruin last time I was here. I didn’t realize I’d need an auto-mapper. I was just looking for a lost kid, not the lost city of Indianapolis. So I was forced to do it the old-fashioned way. Nevertheless, you shouldn’t be worried. I’m quite a skilled cartographer, even if all I had to work with was charcoal and a 3” by 5” notepad.”

“Remind me. Why are we tromping around in sewers again? Anything could just jump out of the shadows and surprise us here. I know you found something interesting down here, but there’s got to be another way.”

“Nope. The entire city above seems to have been covered with rocks and dirt at some point after the arrival of the Rifts. Nowadays it is completely overgrown. I don’t have the resources to bring a whole excavation team out here. On top of that, an excavation team on the surface is far more likely to be spotted by something much more dangerous than ratlings.”

“Humph. I guess we should consider ourselves lucky that you at least mapped out the place.”

They walked for several more minutes in silence. Rip held on to one of his NG-57s and kept his other hand on his grenade belt in case anything really dicey came along. He took point while Thebes took up rear guard, not that he was sure she would keep them safe from anything that tried to sneak up behind them. She was fairly perceptive, but her reflexes left a lot to be desired. Of course, compared to Rip, just about everyone’s reflexes left something to be desired.

Walking in silence got boring quickly. The only sounds were their footsteps and the occasional turn of a page on Thebes’ notepad. “So what is it you’re looking for down here anyway?” Rip asked.

“A computer.”

“Well what kind of a computer?”

“A super-computer. Artificial Intelligence. REAL Artificial Intelligence. I’m not talking about the kind of programmed crud that comes with your standard issue Coalition Skelebot.”

“Bullshit. I thought all that stuff got destroyed in the Great Cataclysm. Even Triax doesn’t have that kind of tech.”

“Yes but there are some of us who think there might be A.I.s that survived the Great Cataclysm. Erin Tarn is one of them. She has speculated on it many times in a number of her writings.”

“Erin Tarn is a hack,” Rip replied. “A crackpot with a bug up her ass about the Coalition. She’ll say anything if it gives average people hope enough to fight the goose-stepping bastards.”

Thebes didn’t respond, but she did stop to closely examine her notes.

“Look,” Rip explained, “I don’t care why you’re here as long as you’re paying me. I’m just saying you’re wasting your time.”

“Your position on the matter is noted. And we turn left here.”

Turning left meant exiting the sewers at a place where it seemed someone had blown a hole away from the side and into the bedrock. A rough-hewn tunnel lay beyond.

“Who the hell did this?” Rip asked in amazement. The tunnel looked fairly recent, yet it was hard to imagine someone carrying so much earth and stone out of the sewer all those miles they had traveled to dump it someplace. More likely it was some type of magic.

“A warlock—or maybe a shifter—summoning earth elementals I imagine,” Thebes theorized. “Whoever it was would have had to know where he—or she—was going though.”

“Why would practitioners of magic care about an A.I.?” a confused Rip asked.

“Hard to say. Maybe they didn’t think they were pursuing an A.I. Perhaps someone gave them reason to believe they were hunting down a rare magical item or a spell of legend.”

They proceeded down the rough-hewn passageway which was sloped downward at roughly a thirty degree angle. Because of this, they got out their climbing gear and secured a grapple and lightweight rope to the top. They only had a thousand feet of rope between them however, so they couldn’t say for certain if that would last them. Sure enough, the rope ran out after about a half hour of difficult climbing and they were forced to go the rest of the distance the hard way. Thankfully, the slope had begun to level off a little bit by this time and they believed they were getting close to their destination, at least by Thebes’ recollection.

When the slope finally leveled out, they found themselves entering a fairly enormous cavern. “Just like I told you,” Thebes smirked.

“No kidding,” Rip remarked as he stepped out of the tunnel and into a gigantic underground expanse. Even with his Multi-Optics Helmet (M.O.H.) the dimensions of the cavern were inscrutable. It had to be more than a mile wide and a half a mile long. He could already see Thebes pulling out a laser distancer, a tool she was not equipped with the last time she was here.

“Just as I remember,” she said. “There’s a solid structure dead ahead of us about 2500 feet. We should head that way.”

Rip complied, but he kept his wits about him. Wide open spaces like this in the dark were not the kind of places he liked to be. Within a couple minutes, he began to see a wall ahead of him on the edge of his thermal imager. But it wasn’t what he was expecting. Instead of a cavern wall there was what appeared to be hardened plates, a panel of steel or M.D.C. alloys or composites, probably the latter judging by its construction and sheer immensity. As they approached closer, he could see that there was a separate panel built into it large enough for a man to fit through. On this second panel was the emblem of an eagle and the letters N.E.M.A. below it. Rip wasn’t great with letters, but there was hardly a soul in North America who hadn’t heard the legend and couldn’t recognize the insignia on sight.

“Nemans?” Rip asked in astonishment.

“The very same. Now do you see why I brought you down here?”

But she didn’t have time to elaborate. Rip suddenly detected something on the ceiling about a thousand feet above them. A spider-shaped creature—no two of them—were crawling down the wall, moving towards their position. They needed to get back to the relative shelter of the tunnel quickly. He grabbed Thebes without thinking and shouted, “Back to the tunnel!”

Rip's Adventures: Rip and the Tunnel, Part 1

2009-10-29T20:57:00.002-07:00

The juicer tore another one of the gigantic humanoid rats off of his back and threw it against the wall. “I told you we shouldn’t have used the old sewer system!” he screamed at his companion, a comparatively frail young woman in a nightvision optics band and light body armor who was trying to keep a pair of the enormous rats at bay with her Vibro-Blade.

“They weren’t here when I visited the excavation site last week!" the woman screamed back, "They must have recently rifted in or something!” she hollered, taking a swipe at a rat that got a little to close for comfort. She missed, but it was still enough to anger the creature. It wrinkled its nose and hissed in anger before taking a lunge towards her with its claws. She just barely dodged.

The juicer was still being accosted by five of rat-men. Three of them were crawling all over him, biting and scratching at him in places where his armor didn’t cover. The other two hovered around him like vultures, ready to dive in for the carrion when the time was right. He took advantage of this and let one of the hovering rat-men think there was an opening. When the rat leapt at the chance to sink his teeth into the juicer, he found himself the victim of a brutal body flip into the drainage water. The juicer made sure to plant his foot right on top of the rat-man’s neck to prevent him from coming up and breathing.

“What the hell did you call these things again?” the juicer asked his comrade.

“Ratlings. They’re D-Bees, like most things. Not native to this world. I believe they come from a place called Palla…” she didn’t get to finish.

“That’s fine sister,” the juicer said, tossing another ratling off his back and crushing its spine with his bare hands, “I didn’t ask for their life story or anything. Why are they attacking us anyway?”

After the woman had to parry a near-hit from one of the ratlings that got dangerously close to her right eye, she replied, “Probably because they outnumbered us. They only attack when they think they have the advantage. You’re making short work of that advantage though.”

“Sweetheart,” the juicer nodded with a twinkle in his eye while twisting the neck of another ratling, “it’s what I do.”

A ratling got too close to the woman and she let fly with her blade like a furious wind, slicing its hand and claw clean off. Blood spurted all over her as the creature wailed in horrible pain, grasping the bloody stump in its other hand. It fell to its knees, continuing to screech a horrible, wretched cry of misery. Meanwhile, the other ratling curled its lips in what could only be a grin as it began to move in on the horror-stricken woman who had become paralyzed by the gruesome sight. The woman was so fixated on the gushing blood from the ratling’s hand and its horrible cries of anguish that she didn’t even notice the other ratling preparing to deliver a death blow. The very next second there was a burst of light from behind the ratlings, and then their heads were both immediately vaporized. The bodies of the two ratlings, now headless, slumped to the ground. The woman looked over to the area where the juicer had been fighting and saw utter carnage. Ratling blood, guts, bone, and brain matter was splattered everywhere. He stood in the middle of it all with a red-hot NG-57 ion gun in each hand.

Disclaimer

2009-10-29T20:57:00.001-07:00

What follows is my collection of fan fiction written about characters within the fantasy world of Rifts Earth as created by Kevin Siembieda and published by Palladium Books Inc. It is the sole intent of this site to exalt, laud, praise, and honor the work of Mr. Siembieda and his excellent staff at Palladium Books and not to diminish or harm in any way their success or future endeavors. No attempt has been made by this website to steal or use the intellectual property of Mr. Siembieda and Palladium Books except where allowed by precedent by the doctrine of fair use under the copyright law of the government of the United States of America. The author of this site seeks no profit or compensation for his works; they are offered pro bono, for the enjoyment of fans everywhere. Please do not distribute the work found on this site for profit or compensation of any kind and except with the express permission of the author.

As an avid fan of the Rifts roleplaying game, I simply wish to share my adoration of the game with other fans in the medium of the written word. While I have borrowed some concepts and ideas from the Rifts books, I have not copied any sections word-for-word, nor would I. All of the following passages are my original work. In addition, all characters depicted herein are fictitious. Any resemblance to real-life persons, implied or otherwise, is merely coincidence and not intended.