Terran Oblivion

Chapter 4

Robert Kushner

May 22, 2203

Titayen, Haiti

4:02 AM

Sometimes it's the people who can't afford to suffer who end up suffering the most when it's all said and done.

I hate saying that, but it's the truth. Is there anywhere in the world who suffers more than the poor?  Terrible services, apathetic politicians, insane policies.  Worst of all, many of the policies that people pledge will help the poor end up hurting them more!  What a terrible thing!

Sometimes people don't know what they need.   It is I who will give it to them.

-Diary of a Martian

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They were well outside the port area when they finally stopped moving. Courtney pressed a few commands on a personal device and the explosive charges lit up like a Christmas tree. A distant rumble came across the land, with it a small fireball, the sound of a building collapsing into the ground, then silence.

"Well that was underwhelming," Robert said to his disappointment. "I was expecting a bigger fireball. I wanted some fireworks."

"Same," Simon said next to him, looking at the scene through his binoculars. "Bogeys are going to be swarming the shit out of that spot. They're going to think that rebels hit the damn port and they're going to be protecting it."

Robert took the binoculars and gazed at the distant fire. "Well, it's weird to think that the rebels are now the government."

"At least in theory."

"Right."

Courtney sat to the side, staring at a screen that she set up on the side. She long since took her helmet off and was reviewing something on her personal computer after she connected her helmet. Robert knew her look when she felt confused or unsure, and she showed it there in spades, her eyes telling all that he needed to know. Her lack of decisiveness in the room didn't make much sense considering her usual ability to just get things done without a problem.

"What do you think we're going to do now?" Asked Simon, a glint in his eye.

"Shoot up some bad guys."

Simon chuckled. "Do you remember Lemnos?"

"That was not fun."

"Yeah, those damn criminals were really entrenched there. That firefight at the airport was brutal."

"Or in Myrina."

"The desert there on Lemnos is pretty cool. Even though we had to bury some bodies in there. Damn cartel."

Finally, he saw some of Charles' forces arriving on technicals topped with machine guns. They were speeding down the road heading for the port.

"Well, they showed up," Robert replied.

Robert barely heard the door open up behind him.

"You look like shit," said Archer.

Archer was a middle-aged woman who appeared descended from Iran or something along those lines, with thick eyebrows, a heavy nose, thin lips, and a generally tannish complexion. She could only be called hard, hard in shape, hard in tone, and of course personality. Her choice of clothing, an all-dark set of jungle camouflage, only made her seem all the more imposing despite her small stature. Her dark black hair, tied backward into a ponytail, flickered a little bit in the light coming from the small shack behind her.