Story [Issue 37] The Story Behind the Colors: Helper (Part 1 of 2)

[Kevred 1,586]

Note: Enhancing Your Reading Experience
 

It is recommended to those who are reading this story to play the video below:
 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aOzwBND5ZfA
 
It is a BGM (background music) video which, if played while reading, will greatly enhance your reading experience. Comments on your opinions about this will be appreciated.
 
Music by: Two Steps From Hell

 

 

---

 

 
"Quiet. Don’t. Move.”
 
Jonathan Lox held his breath and forced his muscles to rest. Peeking through a crack in the upside-down tank turret, he waited patiently for the procession of boots to walk pass. When that finally happened, he adjusted himself in order to face the three soldiers waiting besides him, although the complete lack of space made it very uncomfortable.

“Boss, what do we do now?” The question was murmured, barely audible, but it still set the General’s nerves on edge. Who knows if there wasn’t a group of enemies standing right outside their makeshift cover?

“We keep waiting until dusk. Now shush. No more talking.”

The risk of the countless enemy patrols scouring the battlefield detecting them was too high for Lox to take any chances. He decided to turn his thumbs until nighfallt, upon which he planned to sneak away from the excavation camp, hopefully undetected. The sun being currently still high up in the sky, he knew they were in for a long, torturous wait. Thus, he had plenty of time to ponder the long succession of events which led to their current situation.

* * *

 

Four days after the War had ended, the Crown had asked him to fulfill his duty one, last time. The now retired soldier accepted, both out of curiosity and for a chance to make amends with what he had done to the world. Indeed, Africa and Australia were now both under the yoke of Eurasia. The Americas’ were still resisting the Eurasian boot, but who knows how long before they were crushed. The General felt that it was, one way or another, his fault. After all, he was the one who had ordered the activation of the Aurora Beam.

Thus, Jonathan made his way to Northern Sweden, where, on the fourth of November, he met up with the Minister of Offensive Affairs himself.

“General Jonathan Lox, requesting permission to enter,” he announced, as, without waiting for an answer, he pushed the door open and walked into the Minister’s office. The latter did not seem the least disturbed by that.

“Welcome to Sweden, General. We have important matters to discuss, and have no time to waste in courtesies. I expect you to listen carefully and not interrupt me. Take a seat. So, as you know, the Crown now applies its dominance over the African and Indonesian lands. However, the technology possessed by the American Continent is allowing them to resist our advance and they stubbornly refuse the global unification generously proposed by us. As such, after much discussion, we have concluded that, in face of such impassible foes, we must resolve to greater measures in the name of greater good. By greater measures, I’m, of course, talking of the recently lost Aurora Beam. The only working prototype ever created is now lying somewhere at the bottom of the Arctic waters, and the technology of this weapon was, for security reasons, only stored in the cranial microchips of the three men who died along it. Consequentially, this seemed to be the end of the line of this option, but fate appears to have smiled upon us.”

The General raised an eyebrow.

“Recently, a team of archeologists have discovered the remnants of an old European Union laboratory in France,” the Minister explained, “inside, two male corpses have been found. The first has been identified as scientist Ray Lenghern, co-lead developer of the early Aurora Beam program. He disappeared in 2016, and was never found until this day.”

The Minister shifted in his seat. “However,” he continued, “the very importance of this discovery lies in the second body. It’s in such a state of decomposition that it is no longer identifiable, but the archeologists found a cranial microchip implanted in its skull.”

“How is that surprising? Everyone has cranial microchips,” Jonathan waved his hand in a circular motion.

The Minister sighed in exasperation. “Think, General. Not only the fact that at that time such technology was extremely rare and advanced makes this a peculiar case, but, and most important of all, the microchip appears to contain data on the entirety of the Aurora program’s technology.”

Lox frowned. “That’s impossible. You said two seconds ago that the only three people who had the technology were killed during operation Cold Victory.”

“At least that’s what we believed, until now. Regrettably, the microchip has corroded with time and is, as expected, corrupted and not readable.”

“So what’s my role in all of this?”

“According to your files, your father worked for the institution involved in the Aurora program. We want you to use the experimental time machine we have here in Sweden, travel into the year 2016, and retrieve by any means the Aurora data,” the Minister answered, “you’re our best chance. We already have a squad of special ops waiting for you outside; they will escort you on your journey. Be safe. Now go.”

 

* * *

 

The three trucks rolled along the beaten dirt trail snaking across the plains, towards the excavation site. The General stayed as still as he possibly could on the unstable dark green transport trucks as a team of scientists readied him up for the temporal trip.

“Now, remember Jonathan, the device is still experimental, so you only get one shot at this. You see that beeping red button on your revamped mechanical hand? Press it and you’ll be sent back here. But don’t do that until you’re entirely sure your mission is accomplished, because a second trip into the past is out of the question. You understand?

“Alright,” Jonathan acknowledged. “How are we going to know which month or date to send me back to?”

A gust of wind nearly knocked them off the shaking vehicle as it took a sharp turn onto a paved, abandoned highway.

“There’s a modified sensor loaded in the back of this truck. It's been designed specifically to detect cranial microchips carrying the Aurora data through earth, water, stone, metal, space, and even, most importantly, time. It’ll give us the exact range of time during which the target microchip is in its prime condition.”

General Lox nodded. “Got it. Anything special I should do with the data once I acquire it?” He asked.

The truck was now driving downwards into a barren valley, devoid of any life.

“Yes, actually, I’m glad you asked. The data is of the AA form: Actively Applicable. This means that the technology can be directly transfused into nearly anything. However, that particularity makes it more fragile. As such, you need to transfuse it into the reinforced datakey you’ll be given, or it won't make it through the time travel.”

Well, that makes it easier for me to ‘accidentally’ destroy it, the General thought, because he knew very well what he had to do; destroy anything regarding the Aurora program: lab, data, prototypes, etc. and completely wipe out the program from history, ensuring that the Aurora Beam will never fall into the hands of the Eurasians. It was far from a flawless plan, but it was his
best one.

“We’re arriving,” the scientist pointed out, albeit uselessly, for the camp tents of the excavation location were hard to miss, visible from afar due to the flat nature of the plateau it was set on.

They were a couple hundred meters from the camp when suddenly a bullet rain hit the trucks, shattering the windows and spreading panic and confusing amongst the General’s escort. Lox instinctively covered his head and bent down as glass shards flew everywhere.

“Stop the trucks!” He heard someone yell. The unstable vehicles swerved in all directions, the drivers either wounded or dead. The truck Lox was in abruptly came to a halt, sending him tumbling into the back of the passenger compartment.

“Grab your weapons! Get out of the trucks!” He shouted, despite the splitting pain in his left arm. That last order proved to be a life-saving one, for minutes after his escort evacuated the compartments, engine fires began and eventually the first of the three transports blew into pieces, all while waves and waves of bullets were fired from the camp’s turrets.

“Scatter! Get behind cover!”

Jonathan and the handful of soldiers who were sitting besides him in the same truck darted through the deluge of bullets towards one of the numerous tank carcasses dispersed around the camp’s surroundings, quickly sliding under the turret case, a dome-like hunk of debris. And thus, they found themselves waiting interminable hours under the torturous heat, pressed together like a box of sardines.
 

* * *

 
An unknown length of time had passed when sudden gunfire pulled the General from his thoughts. Shaking the others to wake them from their slumber, he cautiously took a peek outside. It was night; he could see the moon shining down its eerie light on them.

“Mmmhmm...what’s happening?” A soldier named Lewis asked, half-speaking, half-yawning.

“I think the other guys are putting up a fight,” Jonathan answered. He could now feel the bodies shifting around him as the others progressively woke up.

“The bad guys or the good guys?” Lewis wondered.

“If there’s fighting, it means the bad guys and the good guys are both fighting.”

“Oh, right, totally forgot about that. So, uh, what do we do?”

The General could feel the three other’s gaze directed towards him as he carefully thought out their options.

“Either we stay here until we fry to death in our upside-down cooking pan, or we can go out there and help our brothers. Up to you guys,” he finally concluded.

Without  a second of hesitation, they synchronously picked up their weapons. The General nodded, a smile on his face. Holding the gun in his still painful left hand, his right, mechanical arm slid under the turret chassis, steam shooting out of hollow tubes as gears from cavities in his metal forearm slowly pushed the chassis they were hiding under upwards, just enough for the three others to slide out. They then collectively held the hunk of metal to allow the General to, in turn, crawl out of the sultry prison they were trapped in for so long.
Taking a look around them, they saw scattered soldiers taking cover throughout the debris, firing relentlessly at a barricade set up in haste at the entrance of the camp, complemented with automated turrets

“So, wait, who’s the good guys again?”

“Well, the camp was supposed to be occupied by friendlies, but…” The General pondered.

“But friendlies shouldn’t be firing heavy machine guns at us,” Lewis completed, “I get it. I have an idea. Rob and I, we’ll help the others. You should try the classic sneak-around-and-flank-them to take out their energy generator. If you succeed, we’ll notice. If you don’t, well, I suppose we’d all be doomed to certain death.”

“That’s one optimistic way to put it. Alright, it’s not like I’ve got any better option. Good luck, soldier.”

“You too, General.”

Jonathan, curving his back, breaked for the camp’s left side, which was defended by only two guards, the majority being occupied at the front barricade. Lying low behind the perimeter fence, he positioned his gun’s crosshairs on the first guard’s helmet, which was of Eurasian issue, since it appeared the occupiers of the camp were wearing Eurasian uniforms in an attempt to confuse their foes. The tactic failed on the General, however; he clicked the trigger and the unfortunate man toppled over onto the reddish mesa ground in a cloud of dust. That was easy; now was the dangerous part: he had to eliminate the second guard before the latter discovered the body of the first. Sprinting to the entrance of the electrified fence, he however saw no sign of the second enemy. He must be behind the first row tents, he thought. If he calculated correctly, this meant that the guard would reappear at the south-east corner of the camp in between anywhere from five seconds to a minute. Yet, this was not viable, for the guard would notice the body before Jonathan could get a clear shot on him. Resorting to desperate measures, he fired a shot into the fence near the south-east corner.

As he had hoped, the silenced soft metallic cling was only loud enough to catch the attention of the second guard. He approached the rim of the camp, temporarily not noticing the green-coated body lying in a red puddle on the ground.

It’s now or never. The General had only seconds to spare. He raised his rifle, aimed the iron sights onto the fake Eurasian man, and held his breath to steady the visor. His target knelt next to the impact location of the bullet the General previously fired, giving the latter a few seconds of clear line of sight. Taking the opportunity, he fired a three-shot burst. The silenced rounds glided soundlessly through the air, encrusting themselves into the target’s chest, who toppled over onto the fence.

The area now clear of immediate threats, the General activated an EMP grenade and set it up right outside the generator tent; the camp being of Eurasian design, he was very familiar with the location of such and such.The small piece of technology did its work: a buzz preceded the deactivation of nearly any electronics present in the camp. Darkness engulfed everything as the lights went out one by one.

The General had climbed over the fence in a blink of an eye. The enemy soldiers were now slowly folding back towards the command tent, for their machine guns having been rendered useless, and they could no longer see where they were shooting. Unluckily for them, they had nowhere to go: General Lox was hiding in a corner, cutting down his foes with deadly accuracy. They didn’t even know what hit them.

Soon enough, the enemy forces were reduced to a measly three, whilst twelve of the the soldiers from Lox’s escort survived. General Lox forced the enemy commander into the interrogation tent, along with the other three remaining opponents.

“Who are you? What have you done to the Eurasian squad originally stationed here at this camp? Why are you here?” He asked the three men. The General could perceive that his questions troubled the commander, but the latter kept his mouth shut.

“Talk!” Lewis made was about to hit the commander with the butt of his gun, but Jonathan raised his hand, stopping him in the middle of his swing.

The commander finally spoke: “You can threaten me all you want, but you’ll acquire no info from it.”

“Why are you wearing Eurasian uniforms?” The words burst out from both the commander’s and the General’s mouths at the same time. Both men glanced back and forth between each other, sharing mutual confusion, as their subordinates looked around nervously. Finally, a vicious trickery began emerging from the darkness.

“Oh god…” The commander began.

“You’re Eurasian, aren’t you?” Lox asked, even though he dreaded the response.

“Are...are you?”

Lox closed his eyes, and painfully nodded. Witnessing that, the commander sadly dipped his head. Lewis, speechless, slowly withdrawed from the tent, along with the others. Minute after minute of harrowing, profound stillness prolonged between the two men left. None of them dared to look the other in the eye, refusing to admit the abomination they had unwillingly contributed to.

“Why did you attack us?” The words escaped the General’s mouth before he could restrain them.

“Someone told us a group of Tal disguised as Eurasian soldiers was going to try to overtake the camp. He...he had top security clearance, so I...we believed him.”

“Who is he?”

The commander looked up wistfully, his eyes cheerless.
 

* * *

 

The General stormed out of the tent, making the two guards standing outside jump in surprise.
 
“General! So? What’d you learn?” They had just taken their shift, and did not know about the events that had just happened within the tent they were guarding.

“Free them,” he ordered.

“Huh?” The two guards glanced at each other in confusion.

“FREE THEM! ALL OF THEM!”

Terrified by the anger of his leader, one of the guards carried out the orders without any further questions.

“You! Get the microchip sensor! Find out at which point in time I need to travel,” he barked at the second guard. The poor man trembled, and, hesitantly, replied: “S-sir, the...the sensor is broken. It-it got destroyed with...with the other t-trucks.”

“Wonderful. ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL!” The poor guard was now shaking uncontrollably.

“Get the scientists. Tell them... to meet me in the time travel room,” the General ordered in a voice he struggled to keep even.

Happy to have an excuse to put as much distance as possible between him and the furious General, the guard immediately ran off to the science lab.
 

* * *

 

“With the sensor gone, we only know a rough range of time during which the cranial microchip is accessible,” the scientist told him. The General was standing inside a tubular pod, waiting for them to do the final adjustments.

“Define ‘rough range’,” he said.

“A year. Sorry.”

“A year! I’m going to be stuck in the past for a year! Who knows what will happen here in the meantime!”

“Don’t worry, what will seem like a year to you will only be milliseconds for us. In fact, we won’t even notice anything. From our perspective, there will be no change.” The scientist said as he entered some commands into a machine. “We’re ready.”

“I’m ready too,” Lox acknowledged.

“The time travelling will take about a minute, you might experience nausea or blindness. It’s only temporary.”

He nodded. “Lets do this.”

“Activating in 3...2...1...good luck.”

A sudden jerk pulled him into complete darkness, as if a hole had suddenly opened under him, and he was falling through it. Everything went dark as he felt like he was floating in space. An eerie silence then installed itself, replacing every other sound.

However, he was far from calm. He remembered the words of the commander of the camp. Something wasn’t quite right.

Because when he had asked the commander who told him to attack the escort, his reply was:
 
“General Jonathan Lox.”

 

 
Storm

Sakura

Prodigi
 
Tiger
 
Swash
                                           

Edited July 29, 2017 by Hexed

[TriNitroToIuene 4,765]

I. PREDICTED. THIS.

[BlazingCoder 108]

lol

[anuclearbomb 220]

amazing.... 

[kostas604 106]

The music really helped, I never thought I could read one of those stories in only twenty minutes.

[Darren4Turbo 4,913]

Nice story Kev.

[Penguin40 1,714]

Next time Forester please?

 

And good job.

[ultryX 0]

the music helped, I finished in under 8 minutes. also, it really fit the mood of the story.

[donut70 97]

Um, Is there a part 2? Because I didn't read anything mentioning a helper paint?
EDIT: Sorry, I checked back at the top and, sure enough, it has a 2nd part coming soon.

Also, awesome start to your story.

And yes, Two Steps from Hell is a bad with nearly unbroken awesome music.
 

Edited August 5, 2015 by donut70

[beaku 2,656]

I finished reading in under 4 minutes -_-

I'm also excited about how Lox will be the one to give the command to attack. ^_^

[Penguin40 1,714]

I completed the story in no more than 5 minutes, that is, without the music.

[Kevred 1,586]

 I finished in under 8 minutes. 

 

I finished reading in under 4 minutes -_-

 

I completed the story in no more than 5 minutes

My goodness

 

Is there a new trend about giving your time for reading an article or something that I'm not aware about? ._.

[Penguin40 1,714]

My goodness

 

Is there a new trend about giving your time for reading an article or something that I'm not aware about? ._.

I'm a very fast reader. But I write a bit slow.

[TriNitroToIuene 4,765]

My goodness

 

Is there a new trend about giving your time for reading an article or something that I'm not aware about? ._.

I took my time to read this - around 8 or 10 I guess.... and nah, I just think there's this new fad where people think this - 

 

Fast reading is directly proportional to pro writing :p :p :p

 

No offence brothers!

[Legolover3 91]

Dewd. Dat mewsic.

I heard that song when I was like 8 and haven't looked back since. Go TSFH!