Havok Bringer

Chapter 34. New Duds

As I stood in my quarters preparing for the eventual departure from the Bloodhound, I had a thought: We had a real crew now. We would need to get them all uniforms and discuss functional positions for each. For now, I would have Elvis assign them the rank of Spaceman recruit, except for Jax and Matty.

Those two had useful training and were probably more prepared than any of us for what came next. I thought it would be a good idea to take advantage of their backgrounds.

I looked up from packing my gear, “Hey Elvis, you got a sec?”

“Elvis is always at the ready, Captain. Elvis is always ready for action…” he said.

“Uhhh…okay….” I stopped for a second wondering why Elvis was…well, why he was the way he was.

“Listen, can you fabricate some uniforms for the new crew members? I think we need to be able to identify one another once we get down to the surface. It will also make them feel more like a part of the team.”

“Elvis can do this. I like Matty and Jax, they are warriors!”

I chuckled a bit as I continued preparing my gear, “Yeah, I wanted to talk about that. Let's assign Red, Loren, and Brian the rank of SR, but I would like to assign Matty and Jax the rank of SRF. Is that okay?”

“You will be assigning them to the ship’s Security Reaction Force, Captain?” Elvis asked.

“Yes, they are the most combat-capable members of the crew now. They will be utilized on any missions, but we will need someone capable of defending the ship on short notice, I think those two would be perfect. If the crew grows, later on we can discuss adding more people.”

“Elvis agrees, this is an honor for them!” Elvis said.

“Can you put their ranks and names on everyone's uniform? Go ahead and make new ones for me, Tiff, and CJ as well,” I said.

“Oh, and Elvis? Can you put some orange trim on the uniforms? Just a little bit though. I think referencing the Havok Bringer armor is a cool touch.”

“Understood, Captain. It will be done in thirty minutes,” Elvis said.

“Thanks, Elvis.”

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Half an hour later an A-ganger rolled into my room with my new uniform. Instead of the captain's insignia my first uniform had, there was a more simplified way of telling rank. The short vertical collar on my jacket simply said:

Captain Andrew Dawes

The words were stitched in orange and looked great. The uniform was black now and the collar had a small orange trim on it. There was also an orange line running the length of the arms and legs. I was no fashion designer, but I liked it.

“The uniforms look great, Elvis. Thanks,” I said.

“You are welcome, Captain. Elvis is capable of many great things,” he humbly replied.

Just as I got my new uniform on and was ready to start walking toward the cargo bay, CJ came rushing up to my door. He was breathing heavily and looked flustered.

“Whoa, what’s wrong?” I asked concerned.

“That fucking overgrown toaster did it again, Andrew! Every time he gets the chance, he pokes me! I’m sick of his shit, man! I swear I’m gonna find a way to give him a virus or something!” CJ said.

I sighed heavily and looked up, “Elvis? Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“No Captain, Elvis has nothing to tell you,” he said.

I looked at CJ and crossed my arms, “Okay, what is it this time?”

“This damn new uniform is what it is!” CJ said.

“What is wrong with the uniform? I asked Elvis to make them because we had new crew members.”

“Look at the damn name he put on there, Andy!”

I grabbed the uniform top from CJ and looked at the collar. I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. The uniform was correct, except for the name, which read:

SR – Cock Jockey

“I’m not wearing that shit, Andrew. Order him to fix it now or I swear…” CJ shouted as he pointed his fist up at the ceiling.

“Elvis? What the hell man?” I said.

“A-Ganger must have made mistake, Captain, but the name does fit, does it not?” Elvis said.

“Elvis, just fix the damn uniform and stop harassing CJ!” I said as I threw the uniform top back to CJ.

“Guys, we don’t have time for this right now. CJ, just wear your old uniform until he gets it fixed. You won’t be leaving the ship anyway so it’s no big deal.”

CJ grabbed the jacket and walked into the elevator down to the first deck. It would just be him and Elvis for several days. I hope they didn’t kill each other.

A few minutes later I arrived in the Cargo Bay. The crew was all there and had their gear packed. They all had armed themselves from the ship’s armory and honestly, with their new uniforms on, they looked like a real crew.

I walked up to them as they stood in a line in front of the Pup, “You like the new uniforms?”

Jax spoke up, “Love ‘em, Cap. One question though: What is SRF?”

“It’s the ship’s security reaction force. You and Matty will be serving in that capacity on the crew. Your training and overall comfort in combat situations is something we were severely lacking,” I said.

“While away from the ship, you will operate as team leaders for the rest of the group. Tiff and I will be the only ones capable of overriding your authority, understood?”

Jax and Matty looked at each other. I could see the pride in their reactions, “Fuckin-A, Cap! We can do that!” Matty said as Jax shook his head in agreement.

“I need you two down there helping us all ensure that we are making the right moves. Elvis said recon was not available from orbit, so we don’t know what exactly we're walking into. It should be about three days before the dungeon actually initiates and we will know more then. In the meantime, we will need to set up a forward operating base and start to get a lay of the land,” I said.

“Leave it to us, Cap. We will make sure everyone is prepared,” Jax said.

I looked at the rest of the group as Tiff walked up beside me. CJ was piloting his Havok Hound suit into the bay as well. “Does anyone else have any concerns?”

Claire spoke up, “Elvis told us that SR means Spaceman Recruit. Is that our rank?”

“For now. Once we get past this level we can see if anyone is needed elsewhere on the ship. Elvis pretty much runs and maintains the ship at all times, so there isn’t a need for anyone to learn how to pilot or repair the ship,” I said.

“Shit, it’s not like we could figure it out right now anyway,” Red said.

“True, but as you level, your intelligence will grow and you should be able to absorb information relevant to different ship's functions. That is a conversation for another day though. For now, we just need to get past this dungeon,” I said.

“Listen, everyone. This is a shit hand that we have been dealt. None of us asked for this, and none of us were prepared for it, but this is what we have. If we fail, then there are seven fewer humans fighting for Earth’s survival.”

“Now I’m not sure how many of us are out there fighting, but I do know that nobody else has the Havok Bringer. We cannot afford to fail.”

Everyone was nodding in agreement as I spoke. I could see fear, I could see doubt, but I also saw pride in humanity and determination. These people deserved a better leader, I knew that, but I would strive to lead them to the best of my ability.

The Pup was loaded down with equipment and had the A/T Rover attached on top, we had to bring enough food and supplies to last several days, and we would need to have some sort of structure to serve as or FOB. Elvis had a prefab building that would be easily constructed once we were on the surface. It wouldn’t be the Hilton, but it would be big enough for us to have a planning area and a few cots to sleep on.

“Let's load up, team,” I said as the back door of the Pup opened up and we all stepped inside to begin our journey to the moon’s surface.

As the Pup lifted off and shot out of the cargo bay, I got my first good look at the planet from orbit. There were several large ships orbiting the moon. I couldn’t see any visible markings on them, but we were too far away for me to make anything out. It was an ominous sight though and it reminded me that we weren’t the only ones here.

The Moon was small, about half the size of Earth’s moon, but instead of grey, it was red like Mars. Craters and pockmarks covered its surface as far as I could see. There were a few structures coming into sight as we approached the surface.

“Elvis, what are those?” I asked pointing at the display screen.

“Enemy encampments most likely, Captain.”

“Can we get far away from them?” I asked.

“No, Captain. The system coordinates provide a landing zone for each team. There will be no more than 10 miles between teams. The teams are scattered in a circle that is approximately 100 miles in diameter. On day eight the light from the local sun will begin to shrink the available area. Any teams left will be forced to begin moving to find safety,” He said.

“The Dungeon forces everyone to stay active, Captain. The goal is not survival; the goal is destruction of your enemies.”

“Understood. Can you do a flyover before we land so we can try to get an idea of what were up against?” I asked.

“Yes, Captain. Beginning flyover now.”

As the Pup made a wide arcing circle of the large area I could see several small encampments, but one stood out. There was one particular site that looked to be four or five times larger than any of the others. It had multiple buildings and a couple of all-terrain vehicles. There were markings on the sides of the biggest building.

“Why is that one so big?” I asked, “Elvis, can you zoom in on those markings?”

“Yes, Captain.”

As he zoomed in, I could see it: the silhouette of what looked like a large menacing lizard. This was the Lacertine site.

As we came close to the Lacertine site, the Pup rocked. I could feel an impact as warning lights flashed and alarms began to sound.

“Elvis, what the hell?!” I shouted.

"Apologies, Captain. The Lacertines have opened fire on our vessel.”