“General Mattock, can’t stay away from work even when retired.” Colonel Winters said with a smile as she sat in her office.
“Wish it was good news. I have an urgent message for you.” Retired General Mattock said, as the sounds of squeaking seagulls were heard in the background.
“Holy shit, you’re on a beach? Never thought you’d ever get some sun on that pale ass skin. What’s up General?”
“Yeah yeah. I’m sipping on a margarita. Jealous? You better be. Anyway! I got a distress call from Captain Helton. The head mother fucker in charge, or supposed to be. He sent me a holocommunication saying he’s in trouble. They most likely captured or killed his staff, and he’s on the run.”
“Of course. Nothing is ever easy. You have a grid coordinate of last known?” Colonel Winters asked while grabbing her data pad.
“I sent everything over to your pad, including the message he sent me. My tracking software was removed so I can’t find him. Maybe your intel group can figure it out. It may already be too late.” As he sipped on his margarita. “Try to save this guy.”
Master Sergeant Allyn walked into Colonel Winters’ office and stood quiet.
She motioned him over.
“Roger Retired General. Sip on that girly drink and we’ll handle it.” She smiled more and laughed.
“Yep. I can hear the jealousy. Good luck, keep me in the loop the best you can.” He clicked off the line.
“What’s up Colonel?” Master Sergeant Allyn asked as he sat down.
“Captain Helton is in trouble. Looks like those assholes in the Legion may have killed his staff that stood down, and he’s evading capture.” She answered.
“Lovely. Let’s go get him.”
* * *
B-443 was released for full duty, cleared of any wrongdoing. It freely roamed the sections without escort. It stopped into the lab with Doctor Sterling. The lab was quiet at the moment, except for Sterling working on a prototype battle harness for B-443.
“Hey Tin Man, glad to see you are a free man.” Sterling looked up.
“Hello Doctor Sterling. Yes. I am free, for now.” B-443 replied as it shrugged.
Doctor Sterling was typing on his keyboard and maneuvering around some wires with his hands when he left the keyboard onto his work desk.
“May I assist?” B-443 asked.
Doctor Sterling smiled, “Of course, just be careful of the current.”
It’s nimble fingers held onto a wire harness and kept the terminals away from touching any parts.
* * *
Captain Helton was indeed on the run. He hasn’t showered in a couple of days as he wore commoner clothes to help him blend in. The bustling town was heavy with foot traffic. He donned a lightweight waterproof jacket to keep the rain off of him, and a simple cap to cover his head and eyes. The small scar on his left cheek, his build, his crooked nose from repeated nose breaks from training, would give him away. His photo was blasted all over the planet as a wanted fugitive, so even if he wanted to get off world, he couldn’t.
The Legion had stepped up their efforts by providing blockades and monitored all foot traffic through major checkpoints, which Helton did his best to avoid. The checkpoints only covered so far, so being able to get around them by climbing walls or other barricades without being spotted was an inconvenience. Underneath his jacket he carried a suppressed machine pistol, just in case shooting his way out was his only option.
“I’d rather die than surrender to these heathens.” He said to himself as he felt the handle of the machine pistol.
He ducked down a corridor between a couple of local shops and picked up his holo communicator.
* * *
Hello again General Mattock,
I am still alive. The Legion have stepped up their security measures and increased foot traffic. There are blockades and checkpoints that are all over. They have my photo holo posted at each location. I’ve done my best to avoid being detected, but I am armed – which won’t last long if I get overrun.
Should this message get intercepted, look for planet designation P0630, I am there. It is an older reference diagram that is no longer used, I am certain you can find me.
* * *
“He’s on planet Barboa. It’s supposed to be one of the busiest industrial spots. Manufacturing. Trade work. The fuck is the Legion doing there? Are you sure that’s where he said he was?” Master Sergeant Allyn asked as he cross referenced through the secret intelligence sector maps and older references.
“If the planet designation he gave me is right, then yes.” General Mattock replied over the holo communicator on an encrypted signal.
“Well, it’s a start. We’d have to locate a pick up location that won’t cause suspicion, and Legion interference. If they see any military designed aircraft, uniform, or wheels, it’s gonna be bad.” Colonel Winters suggested.
“Well, I’m retired and all, but I will have to suggest a disguised approach. Civilian clothes, concealed weapons, get in and get the fuck out.“
“The last time I did an undercover op was where I lost my leg.” Winters replied.
* * *
Mattock sat in his beach chair, toying with the sand between his toes. He sighed, after sipping his margarita. “A girly drink! Hah! Little shit. She’s lucky I’m far away from her!” He said to himself.
Although he did enjoy the strawberry flavored alcohol, which he would never admit to how good it was against his taste buds that littered his tongue.
Something nagged at him, he wasn’t sure if it was a bad feeling brewing in his stomach, maybe too much acid floating around in his gut, or a sense of duty was requiring his attention he wasn’t sure.
But he knew Captain Helton was in trouble.
And he knew something just wasn’t right.
He grabbed the holo communicator and switched it over to encrypted traffic with a couple of presses on the screen.
“Retired General Mattock, requesting temporary activation of active duty to assist the needs of former unit of assignment.”
He heard the seagulls flying and squawking over him, the waves crashing onto itself and onto the beachhead, the kids laughing and playing in the water. The gentle breeze. The salt in the air.
“Retirement is for pussies…” he muttered.
Story Time 