Starter 1 - Rudest Awakening

I've been awoken many ways in my time:  my lover's caress in the morning, my father's cold finger in my ear, my mother calling my name for breakfast.  However, having a beer bottle blasted with a shotgun next to my head was a new one for me.  Needless to say, despite the copious binge I was on last night, I was now quite sober.  I ducked under the bar when that hand cannon blasted twice more, perforating the counter for the sun to shine down on me.

A chorus of hearty cheers rose up from the other side of the bar while my eyes adjusted to the brilliant morning.  But, the sight they showed me confused the ever-loving hell out of me.  I was sitting on the bar's tile floor beneath what remained of the counter, but mere inches away, grass was blowing in the breeze across a field.  Blinking like an idiot, I sat amazed at the sheer edges of the bar's former walls.  Likewise, the counter was cut clean through, as if God Himself decided to carve my favorite corner of the watering hole and drop it in the middle of a state park.

However, the only thing running through my head right then was “What the fuck?!”  Footsteps approached, mixed with the tell-tale click of shells being loaded into the weapon.  Frozen like a doomed deer, I only breathed heavily when the gunman turned the corner of the counter, leveling his firearm at me.  He was hulked, muscular enough to certainly rip my head from my shoulders, not that that played a big role in blowing my brains out.

Then, he motioned upward with his shogun.  Silently, I nodded and rose to my feet.  Now, I could easily see that he was a good foot taller than me and dressed strangely.  If it wasn't for the gun in his hands, he looked like a barbarian from a rather detailed LARP.  Glancing to the side, I noticed he had a crew too, all attired in a similar fashion:  loin-cloths, animal hides, decorative tattoos, and the like.

My left brow drifted up, not quite sure hot to process this.  Don't get me wrong.  A doctorate in mathematics gives you a lot of reasoning power, but this was a bit out of my expertise.

The Neanderthal barked at me, dragging my attention back to the business end of his weapon.  He spoke, but his words were a jumbled mess.  I've heard a lot of languages from my colleagues, and my video collection, but I didn't recognize anything he was saying.  Now, I really wished I'd dated that linguist.

My dumb silence brought a frustrated frown to his face as he ordered again, shaking the gun at me.  Meekly, I said, “I don't understand!  No comprendo!  Wakannai!”

An explosion then rocked the field, stealing his attention away from me.  I glanced back behind me to where he and his men were looking.  There stood a grove of trees, now with birds and smoke fleeing its canopy.  From the patch of wood, a squad of people exited and raised their weapons to my captors.  All dressed in camouflage fatigues, these soldiers didn't seem as buff as their opponents, but their hardware made up for it.  Each had a sub-machine-gun, probably AR-15 or M-16 by the look of it.

But, their leader made the difference, a young woman with flowing black hair.  She leveled her weapon toward me in particular as her cool brown eyes met mine with just two words, “Get down.”

My knees buckled as a rain of lead flew over my head, rifle rounds from the front and shot rounds from behind.  Men screamed and bled as they fell, holding their weapons aloft, the triggers firmly depressed.  I rolled under the relic of the bar counter, numerous bursts of fire hitting and shredding it as well.

Moments later, the reports of the weapons faded off into the distance, and footsteps again approached me.  Looking out from my haven, I met her now besmirched face.

“Dr. Lawrence Darrus?” she asked.  Dumbly, I nodded as she nodded and offered me her hand.  “Lt. Raven Aerian with the 314th Brigade.  I need you to come with us.”

I took her hand, and she helped me up to my feet, where I could now see the casualties.  Men from both sides had fallen to the ground, their spent casings covering the ground at their feet.  Again, I could see the contrast in the dress of the soldiers and their seemingly primitive opponents, and only one question came to mind.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

“Wish I knew, doctor,” she answered, soberly observing the field as her remaining men check their fallen comrades.  “That's what we hope you will help answer.”