---

Queen Dana of Highwinds the Elf Kingdom inside the Empire has a problem. One that she cannot fix personally. The is with a small minority of her population. A problem that has been brought to her attention by the half elf son of a problematic Duke. What is a Queen to do? She calls on help from a friend. The question now is does she realize what she is letting loose on her kingdom?

---

Chapter 4
Main Gate, Military Compound, Highwinds

The J3G9C Sphinx Armored Car pulled to a stop twenty-feet short of the main gate to the prison compound. As Robert looked out the forward windscreen he could tell that he didn’t like what he was seeing. “Driver what’s the name for this camp?”

“It’s not a camp, sir. This is a prisoner compound. Nothing more, nothing less. If you ask me. It’s about time the Queen did something about this trash.” The young man said without thinking. Unwittingly letting Robert know exactly what the attitude was of the average Elven soldier towards half elves. “Though if you asked me sir. We need to be deporting this scum not putting them in comfortable compounds.”

“Tell me something private. Do all elves feel this way or just you?” Robert kept his anger in check and out of his voice. If there was one thing he hated more than a Politician. It was a bigoted asshole.

“Sir, you’ll have to forgive me. But you won’t understand. Our ancestors were able to keep from intermixing our races for thousands of years. Then along comes Queen Tatiana and her ‘open boarders’ policies. Ever since then there has been a steady deluding of our race’s purity.” The young man snorted as he gave Robert a rather nasty glare. “Before you ask sir. There are more than a few of us regular army and navy that believe we should sever all ties with the Empire.”

“So, you would actively promote a policy of isolationism?” Robert asked politely.

“Sir the Kingdom of Highwinds was able to protect itself just fine for thousands of years without the help of the Empire. Ever since Queen Tatiana brought those abominations inside our borders honest elves like myself don’t make the cut for promotions anymore. Don’t see what’s so damned hot about Death Dealers. They ani’t natural sir. At least you’re human. Them Death Dealers are more machine than person. Our High Priest has declared them to be the work of Erevan Ilesere, the trickster god. They should all be put to the sword.” The private told him with the conviction of a true fanatical religious zealot.

“I see.” Robert snarled then ordered. “You can dismount now driver.”

“No can do sir. Only Death Dealers are allowed beyond this point.” The private chuckled. “No way I’m getting out of this vehicle.”

“That is where you’re wrong.” Robert snarled as his PPL deployed. “I gave you an order shithead. Now dismount or die where you’re sitting.”

The young elf army private quickly realized that he had made a huge mistake as he dismounted the Sphinx. Once the private was outside of the armored car Robert dismount himself. One of the gate guards witnessed what was happening and rushed to help. As he neared he spotted Robert with his PPL deployed and pointed at the elf army private. Taking his cue from the Death Dealer Warrant Officer the guard trained his M-48 assault rifle on the private. “Is there a problem here Chief?”

“You could say that Corporal. Contact your SOG. I want this piece of shit in irons and secured for questioning. The charges are violations of the anti-discrimination articles of the UCMJ.” Robert called out as he lower his arm and retracted his PPL.

“Understood Chief! SOG is on the way.” The guard answered as he neared the private. With a snarl he twist the young man around and proceeded to cuff him. “You’re going to wish I had shoot your ass dipshit. The military ani’t got no use for closed minded bigoted assholes like you.”

“At least I have not sold out our race and faith. Filthy inhuman slugs like you Death Dealers go against all that is natural.” The private snarled. The punch to the back of the private’s head was both swift and professionally delivered.

“Sorry about that Chief.” The Corporal said as he kept the lip body of the private from falling over. “But it’s frack sticks like this little shit that makes our job that much harder. We can’t even give this camp a real name because of the local priest and his bullshit. Then again, if I was smarter I wouldn’t really be surprised by these attitudes towards half elves. They’re all like this.”

“What does that mean Corporal?” Robert asked him bluntly.

“He’s a Forest elf Chief. Unlike the rest of the elf races. They’re the most bigoted and anti-technology of the elf races. Even the Forest Elf Death Dealers get a tough time from their own race. They’re all religious fundamentalists in the most twisted ways. Their priests actively hunt down half elf children so they can purge their race of the ‘unclean’ and ‘devil’s spawn’.” The Corporal snorted.

“Corporal if I wanted to make a change in the attitudes of the Elf High Command. Who should I target first?” Robert asked him with a sly smile.

“Simple. The biggest hardliner for the purest movement is Fifth Army Group Commander Vamir Enxalim. The man is a true follower. He actually orders all recruiters in his sector of operation to turn away half elves. The Queen might have given that decree about abolishing discrimination, but the man knows how to twist the regs to get what he believes is right.” The more the Corporal told Robert the madder he got. “If you give the order Chief more than a few of us would pull the trigger.”

“Now is not the time Corporal. Now that you got that slug cuffed. I’ll let our passenger out.” Robert chuckled as the Corporal just smiled and dragged the Provet over to the guard shack. Robert opened the troop door to the Sphinx. “Okay kid. You can get out now. Time for us to get to work.”

“Yes sir.” Markus said with a friendly smile. “May I know what’s going to happen to that private sir?”

“If he’s lucky. He’ll end up at a listening post on one of the frontier planets. If his luck is for shit. Then he’ll be hauled onto the parade grounds before the local troops and beheaded. That is the punishment for defying a Royal Decree and actively breaking UCMJ regulations. Which you now fall under Markus Starfire.” Robert told the young half elf bluntly. “Make no mistake Starfire. You screw up while under my command. I’ll end you myself.”

“Understood Chief. I do have a question. Shouldn’t I be addressing you as Colonel?” Markus asked Robert in confusion.

“That rank is only good for the Highwinds Military. I’m still an Empyreal Officer. My rank is Chief Warrant Officer Second Class. When this is all over and the Queen has her new Special Operations unit. I’ll go home to the Empire. When that happens, I’ll need someone to take over for me.” Robert gave Markus a sly look. “Want the job or should I look for someone else?”

“Wouldn’t a trained officer from the regular army be for the job?” Markus asked in both surprise and confusion. “I’ve never served a day in the military.”

“I don’t want some regulation dipshit taking over a unit I’ve trained in Special Warfare Operations. They’ll only screw things up. What I want and need is someone who can think on their feet and react just as fast. Yet they also have to be able to plan and conduct a long range tactical operation. See what I’m getting at?” Robert explained for Markus. “Like someone who figured out how to stow away aboard a dropship and then force its Captain to turn them over to Spaceport security. Instead of just throwing their ass out an airlock. Know anyone like that?”

“I just might. The funny thing is the man you’re looking for is currently a criminal in the eyes of the law. How do you plan to get around that minor problem?” Markus asked Robert pointedly.

“Ah yes that annoyingly trivial problem. You do understand that once he was sentenced to a lifetime of Military service all criminal charges were dropped. You see there is this little known legal clause concerning criminals sentenced to military service. It states rather clearly that a juvenile or first time offender can receive a judicial waiver for military service. It is a onetime deal.” Robert explained with a friendly smile. “In short it’s the deal your Queen gave you. You got a clean slate. A true second chance. The question now is what are you going to do with it?”

“You know something Chief. I don’t have a fracking clue.” Markus snorted. Then gave Robert a big grin. “But I do know that some opportunities can be passed up.”

“Good. Now give me a breakdown of the gangbangers in that compound.” Robert ordered him with a nasty grin.

“Yes sir. Currently in the compound there are two-hundred-and-fifty gangbangers of varying allegiances. To break that down by gang affiliation there are five individual gangs. None of them are what you would consider hard core gangsters. They’re mostly half elves that banded together out of self-preservation. The only exception to that rule are the ten half Sylvian elves including myself. The other two-hundred-and-forty can be broken down into in four individual gangs of sixty members a piece. Before you ask Chief. When the crackdown on the gangs happened. The Peacekeepers rounded up every gang member in sight. After that they broke the gangs down into twenty-four-man groups.” Markus explained for Robert with a frown.

“Hold on Starfire. You said that they broke the gangs down into twenty-four man groups. Are you sure about that?” Robert asked him harshly.

“Yes sir. I’ve been able to gather that most of the gang members were shipped off world to other prisoner compounds. From what I’ve overheard of the guards’ chatter. Only the most hardcore gang members or leaders were gathered from around the across kingdom, and they’re being kept at this compound. Also, none of these gangs are the same as they were on the streets.” Markus told him honestly.

“Then how did they get organized so fast? What’s the common thread among them for loyalty?” This was already bugging Robert to no end.

“Like everything else in our society. They’re divided along elven racial lines. High, Drow, Forest, and Winter half elves are all equally represented here. That’s the crazy part sir.” Markus told Robert as he explained the breakdown of the gangs.

“Alright I’ll bite. Why is the breakdown crazy? To me it sounds like the perfect setup for a Spec Ops company.” The second he said that Robert groaned with realization then chuckled. “I should have fracking known.”

“What does mean sir?” Markus asked in bewilderment.

“Let’s just say that your Queen is one savvy woman.” Robert chuckled. He spotted the CV-181 High Mobility Combat transport arriving at the gate. “Looks like the SOG is finally making an appearance. Markus I need you to keep what we’ve just discussed between the two of us for now.”

“Yes, sir. May I know why?” Markus asked quietly.

“Let’s just say that there are a few things I need to figure out yet.” Robert explained for Markus. Then warned him. “Also, I know the guards are Death Dealers, but I don’t know them. That means I don’t trust them.”

Markus was barely able to keep the shock from his face. He had always heard that Death Dealers only trust their own. That their loyalty to fellow Death Dealers was without fault. Yet here was a Death Dealer that didn’t trust his brothers and sisters in uniform. The idea was beyond his comprehension. There had to be a reason for this strange man’s distrust of his fellow Death Dealer.

“Afternoon sir. Staff Sergeant Eric Red Leaf, second platoon NCOIC, five-oh-seventh Military Police Detachment.” The High elf Death Dealer said as he saluted Robert.

“Chief Warrant Officer Second Class Robert Wolff.” Robert told him as he returned the salute. “I’m returning this Officer’s candidate.”

“Excuse me sir. I believe that you have made a mistake. This is a prisoner detention compound. That young man is a criminal.” Red Leaf told Robert with a snarl as he pointed towards Markus. “He used his bastard status to demand a Trail by Blood. Looks like his gamble didn’t pay off and the Queen sent his ass back to us.”

“THAT is where you’re wrong Staff Sergeant!” Robert snapped. “This is not a prisoner detention compound. Never has been. Where is your CO?”

“Sorry Chief, but did you say this isn’t a prisoner detention compound?” Red Leaf asked in confusion. Robert just nodded his head. “Then what is this place?”

“AN Officers’ Candidate training camp. First deal with that prisoner the Corporal is currently detaining. Then you can report to me at the CP. There are going to be some major changes around here Sergeant. Starting with the attitude towards our newest recruits.” Robert snarled as he stormed passed the man heading for the CV-181. As he climbed into the command vehicle Robert gave the driver a simple order. “Private you can take me to your fracking CO. Get a move on, Sergeant.”

“Sir, yes sir!” Red Leaf shouted as the CV-181 pulled away. Once it was just him, the gate Guard and Markus did he ask. “Just who the frack is that shithead?”

“That was this post’s new Commanding Officer by royal decree, Staff Sergeant.” Markus answered with a soft chuckle. “The Whitechapel Ripper.”

“Oh shit!” Both the Corporal and Sergeant whispered at the same time. Red Leaf looked over at Markus with a forced grin. “You better report back to your barracks cadet. Double quick now lad.”

“Yes Sergeant!” Markus turned towards the gate and started to run. Only to have Red Leaf stop him before he could take his first step.

“And cadet. Keep what you heard and saw here to yourself. That is an order.” Red Leaf told him as he looked in the direction of the compounds Command Post. “Until the Chief informs the whole camp. We’ll be operating like always. Understood?”

“Understood Sergeant!” Markus shouted then headed for his barracks. Only once he was out of the way did Red Leaf breathe a sigh of relief.

“Okay Sergeant Red Leaf. What’s the deal with the Whitechapel Ripper being here?” The Corporal as he looked toward the CP.

“Like the MAN said. This isn’t a prisoner detention compound. It’s a training camp for new Officer candidates. In short. It’s all above our paygrades.” Red Leaf told him bluntly. “Get that piece of shit over to the stockade. I’ll stand watch until you get back. Now move.”

“Roger that Sergeant.” The Corporal shouted as he grabbed the private and dragged him off towards the stockade. “Let’s go you filthy pig.”

Once he was alone in the guard shack Staff Sergeant Eric Red Leaf proud son of the Red Leaf clan sighed. Looking up at the celling of the shack he thought about his meeting with Chief Warrant Officer Wolff. “As much as I hate to say this. I thought he would have been taller. He sure as hell doesn’t look like a legend. Then again what the hell would I know. All the legendary warriors I know are dead.”

Command Post, Military Compound, Highwinds

Robert scowled as the CV-181 pulled to a stop before the modular arch shaped building that was serving as the Command Post. In the past these quasit hunts were used for a great many purposes. Their newest incarnation were a modular prefab construction that took four men and two wrenches to put together. Their prefab design allowed for multiple configurations. It wasn’t the building’s configuration itself that pissed him off. It was the fact that it broke military regulations. For a renegade like Robert Wolff, it had to be bad.

“Who the FRACKING HELL AUTHORIZED THAT PAINT JOB?!” Robert yelled at the top of his lungs as he stormed from the CV-181. He didn’t want for the driver to answer his question and just stormed through the CP’s door. His entrance would go down in the camp’s history as the most impactful of all time for one reason. Instead of pushing the door open. Robert deployed his PPC and blasted the door off its frame.

‘Celest get me the info on the current CO for this fracked up outfit!’ Robert ordered his AI as he stormed through the smoke and dust.

‘Coming up Robert. Got it. The Co for the 507th MP Detachment is 2nd Lt. Gracey Wittman. Official call sign Waltz. Unofficial call sign Clutz One.’

‘Thanks, Celest. Give me a hard lock on her location.’ Robert ordered her. When the red triangle appeared on his internal HUD Robert snorted. ‘Figures! The bitch is asleep on the job!’

‘That’s negative Robert. It seems the Lieutenant is currently unconscious. My sensors indicate that all members of the Command Staff are currently in the same condition. My current theory this is a result of the impact blast concussion from a 30mm Particle Projection Cannon. Though I don’t know of anyone who would do something so stupid as to use a PPC on a wooden door.’ Celest snarked.

‘Shove it Celest. None of them are dead so quite your bitching. Besides this way I get their full attention.’ Robert snarled as he kicked the door to the CO’s office open. “WAKE UP YOU WORTHLESS CUNT!”

When the prone figure of Second Lieutenant Gracey Wittman failed to move Robert growled. To gain the young woman’s attention Robert took the expedient method. Pouring a pitcher of ice-cold water over the head of an unconscious person has reliable results. The young woman shrieked then sputtered as she woke from her unconscious state. Like all well trained soldiers Wittman reacted in a predicable manner. Her personal Death Dealer weapons deployed from their ports as she scan the room for her attackers. Robert just shook his head in disgust.

“Sorry excuse for a welcome Lieutenant.” Robert snarled then ordered. “Get the frack out of my chair before I throw your sorry ass through the window.”

“Just who the Hell do you think you are?” Gracey demanded as she finally got a hard lock on Robert. It took her AI pinging the intruder’s IFF to realize that she was pointing a weapon at her new Commanding Officer. “Oh Shit! Sorry Sir!”

“At least you had the brains of a piss ant to ping my IFF. Now get your ass out from behind my desk Clutz.” Robert ordered her as he strode towards the desk with a snarl. “You can start by explaining to me why this CP isn’t painted in accordance to UCMJ regulation four-five-seven-one.”

“The subcontractors kind of mixed up the paint order sir.” Gracey said with a heavy blush. “The CP was painted before the mix up could be corrected.”

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN THERE WAS A MIX UP WITH THE PAINT ORDER?” Robert roared as he sat down. “How in the hell does that compute to a gods be damned PETTICOAT PINK command post for frack’s sake?!”

“Well sir. The painting contractors were given the standard one-four ratio of red primer base to white topcoat. To save time the subcontractors mixed the primer and with the topcoat paints. They thought that they were supposed to mix them together.” Gracey explained for Robert as her blush turned from a light pink to a deep crimson.

“Oh, for the love of the GODS!” Robert sighed as he sagged back in the chair. “When is the replacement paint due to arrive?”

“Not for another four weeks, sir.” Gracey whispered fearing her new CO’s reaction.

“Just fracking great!” Robert moaned as he put his head in his hands as he rested his elbows on the desk. “Okay Lieutenant. Any other nonregulation situation I should know about? Like maybe a gold plated shitter for the officers, an illegal Enlisted man’s bar somewhere, a flouting poker game among the cadets? Better come clean now. I’ll find out eventually.”

“No sir. Everything else is to regulation for a detention camp.” The MP Lieutenant answered as she sent an encrypted message to her Platoon Sergeant to hide the bar stock, get rid of the illegal still, and close down the unauthorized club. Gracey could tell that her new CO had a major hard on for the regs.

‘Robert the 2nd Lt. just sent an encrypted message to her Platoon Sergeant. Should I intercept and decrypted?’

‘Negative Celest. We’ll let her get her house in order before coming down on her ass. I know that goes against regs, but this post has been run like a prison camp instead of a training camp like it was supposed to be run. I can’t blame her for letting certain things to go on. By the way why did you change our IFF to respond with that honorary rank of Colonel?’ Robert asked the AI.

‘Robert that is not an honorary rank for the Highwinds military. You are a full Colonel in their military. The orders came through during our trip from the palace.’

‘Why didn’t you tell that shit before we reached the post?’ Robert demanded.

‘It took me awhile to decrypt the message. I didn’t have an up to date TRANSEC for the Highwinds military. I had to hack the camp’s Com-shed to decrypt the message.’

‘I hope like hell you covered your track Celest.’ Robert snarked. Only to get an indignant snort from Celest causing him to chuckle.

“Listen up Second Lieutenant Wittman. Let me be perfectly clear. So, clean out those ears of yours and pay attention. This camp is not, and never has been, a prisoner detention compound. This is and always has been a training camp for Officer candidates for the Death Dealers. Do I make myself CLEAR?!” Robert’s voice slowly rose as he corrected Wittman until he was yelling at the end. His anger was beyond measure at this point. He cleared his desk in the blink of an eye. Far too fast for the Lieutenant to track. He had her by the throat and pinned against the office wall before she realized. Leaning in close to her face Robert snarled. “That attitude of yours will change this second or I’ll end you fracking life. This camp’s personnel will get with the program, or they can start handing in their ten-eighties by COB this afternoon. Understood?”

To say that 2nd Lt Gracey Wittman was scared would be like saying ice is hard and cold. She could feel Robert’s CQC blades against her neck. She knew without a doubt that a simple fleck of his wrist would end her life. There was something about this human Death Dealer Colonel that sent chills down her spine. She could tell that this man was the embodiment of Death personified. As she nodded her head slowly her AI finally gave her the Colonel’s call sign. She turned white in realization as she whisper the currently most feared call sign in the Death Dealers. “Whitechapel Ripper. Why are you here sir?”

“Nice to see my reputation precedes me.” Robert chuckled evilly. “Spread the word Lieutenant. I won’t tolerate dipshits, assholes, or fools in my ranks. As for what I’m doing here the answer is simple. The individuals that have been in trusted to our care are to be the Queen’s newest Death Dealer unit.”

“What kind of unit sir?” She asked with real fear in her voice.

“A Special Operations Regiment. One that I have been given a free hand in forming and training. The first one of your men to step out of line will be used as my training example.” Robert snarled as he let her drop to the floor. “Now you got your orders Lieutenant. Get out of my sight.”

Gracey took the chance and ran from the CP. In her passing she noticed the rest of the office staff was struggling to wake up and appear to be working. They had all heard their new CO’s blowup with their LT. They would have to have been dead to not hear his angry outburst. The fact that Clutz was running from the CP was a sure sign that their new CO was a hard ass and a real Death Dealer’s Death Dealer. “CQ GET YOUR WORTHLESS AS IN HERE!”

The Charge of Quarters, Corporal Erin Glass Knife, looked over at his Runner for the day with a shrug of his shoulders. He knew that there was no way for him to get out of answering the CO’s bellow. As he stood up and straightened out his BDUs Glass Knight called out. “Coming sir.”

Robert glared up at the Corporal as he entered the office. Keeping with the hard ass image that he was setting Robert snarled. “Corporal Glass Knife, I need a detailed map and the TO-and-E for this camp. While you’re hunting that up for me send me your Runner. I got a job for him.”

“Sir, yes sir.” Glass Knife answered and left his office. As he passed the CQ desk. “The CO wants to see you, Hunter.”

“Gee thanks a lot, Glass Knife. You know if I had arrived here before you. I would be the one wearing the Corporal strips.” Specialist Hunter grumbled.

“Trust me I know. Luck of the draw as the saying goes. Now, get a move on.” Glass Knife ordered him before bending down. “Heads up buddy. This guy is a bigger hard ass than we originally thought. I suggest we take things real slow for now.”

“Understood. Code one-eighteen or one-thirty-four?” Hunter asked.

“I’m thinking two-twenty for now.” Glass Knife told him as he looked back at the CO’s closed office door. “We need more Intel before we do anything else.”

“Understood. I’ll ping his IFF and see what I can gather.” Hunter told his partner in crime. The two men had known each other from their first days in Basic Training. As he neared the door his own IFF was pinged. The return handshake made Hunter stop dead in his tracks. He froze in fear with his hand just millimeters from the handle. He looked over at Glass Knife. “Dude it’s the Whitechapel Ripper.”

“What?” Glass Knife whispered. “Are you sure?”

“I just got pinged. The handshake was as solid as the ground beneath our feet. It’s him. The Whitechapel Ripper.” Hunter answered his own voice barely above a horse whisper. “I suggest you get that map and TO-and-E fast.”

Hunter didn’t wait for Glass Knife to answer he just knocked then opened the door. Asking as he entered. “You wanted to see me sir?”

“Specialist Hunter I need some information. As you’re not an NCO. You have the inside scope on what the EMs are calling this camp.” Robert told him bluntly.

“Sir I don’t understand what you mean. Can you please explain.” Hunter asked stalling for time to come up this a suitable name for the camp. He sure as hell wasn’t going to his new CO that the Enlisted were calling it Pussy Junction.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about PFC Hunter.” The warning in Robert’s words was clear enough for even the stupidest of soldiers to understand.

“We have several names for the camp sir.” Hunter told him. “Though the top contender is Pussy Junction Camp. Because of the CPs paint job, sir.”

“I can see that one.” Robert chuckled. “Okay Specialist what are the others?”

With that clear tactical approval Hunter relaxed. “Sir the others aren’t as colorful, but they do have points of understanding. The first is the Nest, because the camp is a detention compound. Another is Camp Nowhere because the nearest civilian town or village is fifty miles in any direction. The last is kind of hard to understand. When it rains this place becomes a massive puddle of gray clay. The motorpol personnel call this place Camp Swayze.”

“Camp Swayze? What the hell? You got to explain that one to me.” Robert told him.

“Like I said sir. The last is hard to understand. I hate to say this but none of MPs get the reference sir.” Hunter answered honestly. “By the way sir. There are three other detachments at this camp. I just thought I’d let you know sir.”

“Break them down for Specialist Hunter. I want size, designation, and type.” Robert ordered the man as he pulled out a sheet of paper and pen.

“Yes sir. There is the four-oh-seventh Medical Detachment. They’re a platoon sized unit with First Lieutenant Rece Stonewell for their CO. Then there is the six-oh-seventh they’re a standard Support Detachment of Personnel Clerks and cooks. Their CO is Second Lieutenant Jack Stow. The last Detachment is the seven-oh-seventh. They’re a reenforced platoon of mostly light and heavy wheel mechanics. They have one squad of recovery Specialists. Their commander is CW-three Tenzin Shore.” Hunter knew that the more information he gave the Colonel the better his chances at becoming the new Cos personal driver. “I almost forgot sir. There is a fourth detachment, they’re stationed at the train station in Dandelion Port. It’s a squad size unit of transport Specialists with a Staff Sergeant in charge. I don’t know his name though. They make most of our supply runs.”

“What can you tell me about the vehicles here?” Robert asked as he continued to write down the information Hunter was giving him. “I need type and number.”

“Sir each unit uses their own specialty equipment. The MPs use the standard CV-one-eighty-ones for the most part. We have one squad of CV-one-eighty-twos with heavy weapons for combat support. The meds are outfitted with four of the new VM-fifty Black Knight Armored Medical Vehicles. The six-oh-seventh are outfitted with six of the VM-fifty Black Knight Armored Utility Versions. As for the seven-oh-seventh they have three VM-fifty Black Knight Armored Utility versions, three P-four-N-four Djinn Recovery Vehicles, and one P-nine-seven Bigwig Repair Vehicle. There is also one Z-R-ninety-four Juggernaut Command and Control Vehicle for overall command of the five detachments when in the field.” As Hunter ran down the list of vehicles each unit used Robert was slowly impressed by the young men.

“How many of those vehicles are you checked out on Specialist Hunter?” Robert asked.

“Only two sir. I would need at least four to five months of training to even think about manning the six and eight wheeled vehicles.” Hunter felt it was best to be honest with the CO. “Another two to three if I wanted to drive one of the halftracks like the Djinn and Bigwig. As for the Juggernaut only two people on post can drive that monster. They’re both in the six-oh-seventh.” Hunter explained.

“What are their names and ranks?” Robert asked.

“Private second class Folmon Xildan, and PFC Nithroel Elfina. Both are straight out of AIT at Fort Green River in the northern territories.” Hunter told him honestly. “Sir I know that trusting a ninety-five ton monster like the Juggernaut to a couple of privates fresh out of AIT sounds crazy but those two know what they’re doing.”

“I’ll take your word for it, Specialist. I learned on the battlefield not to take people at face value. I saw kids barely into their teens taking down forty to fifty ton AP suits with nothing more than satchel charges. Men well into their sixties and seventies destroying whole heavy tank companies using nothing more than shoulder fired man portable antitank missiles. The only thing all of these people had in common was their grit and determination to live free.” Robert told the now stunned Specialist Hunter. “There is something else you need to know.”

“What’s that sir?” Hunter asked with bated breath.

“The deadliest of those teenagers were gangbangers that I trained personally. They were the very heart of the Resistance in the Battle for Goulcrest.” Robert told Hunter with a predatory cruel of his lips. “Just like the trainees at this camp.”

“Sir is that why they were brought here? To be trained as Special Operations Troopers. Because if that is the case, sir. Then you should just send them all back to where they came from. The High Command will never approve of their status as Spec Ops troopers. They’ll have them all executed the first chance they get, sir.” Hunter felt that he should be honest with the Colonel.

Because he could tell that no one had actually explained to his new CO just how impossible of a task he had been given. The odds were stacked in a way that no one could overcome. Not even the great and legendary hero of the Goulcrest Occupation. “That’s after you deal with the problems between the gangs sir.”

“You know something Specialist Hunter. I’ve heard that same line of bullshit before.” Robert chuckled as he stood up from behind the desk. “I seem to remember someone telling me that I would never get the gangs of Goulcrest to work together as a united resistance force to free Goulcrest. I also remember that for some reason they ended up eating their words.”

“Camp Resistance.” Hunter whispered to himself just low enough to not be heard. At least he thought so until Robert turned to face him.

“What was that? Did you say Camp Resistance?” Robert asked him.

“Um… well yes sir. The way I see it. If we’re going to train these scrubs to be Spec Ops Troops like you did back on Apollo six. Then our camp’s name should reflect that. So why not Camp Resistance?” Hunter explained as he swallowed the lump in his throat that suddenly formed out of nowhere.

“Go to supply and draw what you need to make the sign, Specialist. I want to see that sign hanging over the main gate by COB.” Robert ordered.

“Sorry sir, but it’ll be tomorrow before I can even start the sign. Sergeant Howzer is in Dandelion Port on a supply run. He has the only key to the Supply Room. Not even his Clerk has a key to the room.” Hunter explained then whished he hadn’t as his new CO’s face turned red with anger. “Sorry sir.”

“Not your fault Specialist. Get me your Platoon Sergeant and the XO. Dismissed.” Robert snarled as he turned back to the window. He heard Hunter close the door as he left his office and sighed. “Damned REMF assholes.”

Barracks 14

Markus entered the barracks 14 quasit hut in a rush. He knew that he had to get to his fellow Sylvain half elves before word got out. He had to organize them as best as he could before all hell broke loose. He was only slightly surprised to find all of the Sylvain half elves in the barracks’ team bay area. “Listen up people. We got a shit storm headed our way.”

“Whatcha ya talking about Starfire? The other gangs coming for us?” Ivan Yates asked as he stood up from the far corner of a couch.

“Worse than that Spike. The new CO for this joint just showed up.” Markus told the nine Sylvain half elves with an evil smile. “Before you say that don’t mean shit think again. It’s the Whitechapel Ripper himself.”

“WHAT? YOU GOT’S TO BE SHITTING US! ARE YOU SURE?” Brice Nightwind asked as he jumped to his feet in fear.

“As sure as I can get. I sat less than three feet from the man on my ride back here from the palace. I got a good look at the name tag on his uniform.” Robert told him bluntly. “It’s the man himself and he don’t fracking play games.”

“Just how bad assed can this guy be?” Ivan asked Markus.

“He’s not your regular Death Dealer dipshit. The man is a Spec Ops Warrior. A stone cold killer. The man’s eyes are dead I’m telling ya. We got one chance with this guy. We screw up now. He’ll cut your head off in the middle of the exercise yard. If he just doesn’t blow you away were you stand. He ani’t like those slugs that have been guarding us until now.” Markus knew that he had to lay it on think. If he wanted to get this crew to fallow his plan. “They might be Death Dealers but they’re all REMFs. Real honest to god Rear Echelon Mother Frackers compared to the Whitechapel Ripper. He already had one regular army shitbird clapped in irons.”

“What? No way! What did the guy do?” Ivan asked.

“He was bad mouthing all of us detainees. You know all that old bullshit hate speech about half elves and shit. It seems that it’s against something called the UCMJ.” Markus decided to tell them about what when down with the forest elf at the main gate. When he was done every face in the room held a smile. “The real kicker is that slug has to face the Whitechapel Ripper when it comes time for his punishment. There’s no way he’ll get off.”

“What should we do now Starfire?” Brice asked with some trepidation. “This new CO is a total wildcard in the deck. He could change the rules and there’s nothing we can do about it. Not even if we could get a Representative to hear our complaints.”

“We do what he wants us to do, Brice. We fallow his orders to the letter. We act like the good little soldiers he wants to be.” Markus told them all with a feral grin. “Before you call me crazy and to go stick it. Just hear me out.”

“Okay Starfire what’s the play? You haven’t led us wrong yet.” Ivan said as he waved for the others to stay silent.

“Look I learned something while I was at the palace. Once the local pigs turned us over to the military. We were no longer considered civilians. We were effectively drafted into military service. That means all that paperwork we filled out when we first got here was for military service. That means they got to train us. They got to feed us. Provide uniforms. Everything that the regular army and navy gets. Everything that the Death Dealers get.” Markus told them all with a sly smile. “That includes getting paid. I did the numbers in my head on the way back. I figure in ten days we’ll get our first paychecks. But to collected all those bennies. We have to dance to the new CO’s tune.”

“Damn. That sounds too good to be true. I’ve always wanted to join the army but every time I tried the recruiters turned me away. They said that half elves can’t serve because we don’t met some kind of physical requirement.” Brice moaned.

“Yeah well you got bullshitted Brice. There is no physical requirement except the one for height. The last time I looked none of us are below four foot eight inches tall.” Markus snarled. “Yeah you heard me right. The only other requirement that they could have used against us legally was the one about age. I know for a fact that none one of us have less than seventeen summers. No matter what those recruiters told you guys. We should have never been denied a chance to serve in the military.”

“Yo Starfire. How do you know all this shit man?” Tanner Firestar asked him.

“Before I split from home. I spent a frack ton of time researching what they call the UCMJ at the local library. There’s an old saying about the law and rules. If you know the law and the rules. You know how far you can bend them to get what you want.” Markus told them all with a laugh.

“Markus what is this UCMJ you keep talking about?” Ivan asked him.

“It stands for Uniform Code of Military Justice. It’s the rules and regulations that covers everything the Military can do legally. That’s why when the civilian cops turned us over to the MPs here. We all became members of the army.” Markus told them all with a friendly smile.

“What if I don’t want to be in the army?” Yates asked him sharply.

“Like the old saying goes bro. You’re in the army, not behind the plow. Son-of-bitch you’re digging a ditch. You’re in the army now.” As Markus sang the old song about the military the other half elves busted out laughing. All except Yates.

“You telling us that we got no choice in the matter. We either become a bunch of good little soldiers or they kill our ass. It that it?” Yates snarled.

“No, you dumb ass. They can do a shitload worse than kill your ass. Ever heard of a place called Crystalfold Stronghold?” Markus asked them all knowing that none of them knew about the frozen prison planet. “Let me explain it for you. It’s a planet in the Outer Rim. Covered in ice that’s miles deep. Your only chance at survival. Is to join one of the prison work gangs.”

“Damn. That place sounds like some kind of frozen hell.” Brice whispered.

“Hell will be a step up from that place. Average life span for someone not on the work gangs is two years. If you’re part of a work gang you might live for seven to ten years. If you make it that long you get paroled. Though you’ll wish you had died in that frozen hell. Because your body will be so broken that you die within two years. Do you get what I’m tell you Yates?” Markus gave the young man a hard glare. “We do what the new CO wants.”

“Fine whatever bro. I just wish we had other options.” Yates grumbled. Only to hear Markus chuckle. “What haven’t you told us Starfire?”

“Do any of you know how rank is given out in the Death Dealers?” Markus asked him with a fate smile. As they all shook their heads no Markus’ smile grew. “They use a merit only based system. The better you are, the more rank and respect you earn. For example. In every training class for the Death Dealers the top five percent are automatically promoted to an officer’s rank. What that means is we become the guys in charge. That’s what we got to aim for, the top five percent.”

“Dude we got no chance at winning those slots.” Ivan snorted.

“That is where you’re wrong. We got the advantage over all the other gangs here. Look being half Sylvain elf means we’re faster, smarter, and stronger than all the other half elf races. We use what our half breed bloodline gave us to win those top five percent positions.” Markus told them all grinning.

“Like I said before. You haven’t led us wrong yet. Okay guys we follow Starfire’s plan. We take the top slots in everything.” Ivan told the others as he stood up. “You’re not like the rest of us Starfire. You got a real education. You’re no street rat like the rest of us. What’s your story?”

“The usual. Bastard son of a High Families frack wad. I was thrown out on my ass once I was old enough to live on my own. It’s that simple.” Markus told them with a straight face. “And just like you guys this is my last chance.”

“Damn. That sucks rocks man. At least my parents didn’t have to deal with all that High Family political bullshit.” Ivan grunted as the others nodded their heads in agreement. “We’re nothing more than the sons of ordinary people. You got that whole High Family Honor bullshit baggage to deal with.”

“Does your father know you’re here?” Brice asked.

“The man could give a shit less about me. As for the rest of the family. They’re probably hoping I die during training or on the battlefield. They just want me to disappear into the Void.” Markus told them all with a frown. “The only Honor I win will be for myself and no one else.”

“Damn bro that’s hard core!” Ivan chuckled. “If anyone else said that to me. I would have called bullshit. Yet coming from you. That is a whole another story. You actually believe that shit about self-earned honor.”

“That’s because I spend the last eight years of my life working towards one goal. The only way I can reach that goal now is by being the best fracking Death Dealer I can.” Markus snarled as he shook Ivan’s hand. “And if anyone gets in my way. I’ll flatten their ass and walk over their cold dead corpse.”

“Barracks fourteen! Outside!” The guard yelled as he passed their door. “Assemble in the exercise yard in fifteen minutes!”

“Wonder what the hell that’s all about?” Brice asked as he and the others stood to leave their barracks. “It’s nowhere near chow time.”

“I think were about to get introduced to our new CO.” Markus snarked as he headed for the door. “Remember what I said about this guy being a real hard ass people.”

“Why? He going to blow us away for being smartasses?” Firestar snarked.

“Hope that’s all he does. From what, I’ve heard about the man. He just might beat you to death with your own arm.” Markus told them as he stopped at the door. “Remember guys. The Whitechapel Ripper is a diehard Original Gangster. The man was banging on the meanest streets in the Empire long before any us hit the streets. He organized the gangs of Goulcrest to fight the Cheeseheads. You got to be a hard ass with no equal to pull that off. Get what I’m saying?”

“Yeah man. Load and clear. Right guys.” Ivan said.

“Good because I got a feeling that is the only warning any of us will get.” Markus told them all honestly. “The Whitechapel Ripper has come to Highwinds, and the hounds of Hell are biting at his heels.”

-----tbc-----