Context: For those of you who have been reading my A.T.X.D. series scenes for the past couple of years or more, this is what the opening of the first book (Book 1 of what is now 9 books) will be like. I can't post the whole Prologue chapter, however, because it is more than 2,000 words. But what I will show are sections I have edited and improved as well as some highlights.
For those not familiar with the world of A.T.X.D. - this is a Military/Law Enforcement Science Fiction series I've been working on since 2016. The story centers around the titular international law enforcement division - known fully as the Advanced Tactical Xtraterrestrial Defense force. It's job is to protect humans from belligerent extraterrestrials, but also protect peaceful offworld immigrants from belligerent human forces at the same time. As you read these excerpts from the Prologue, I want to know what your first impressions of A.T.X.D. are. Do they seem like that stereotypical human military force or organization that always fights evil aliens while the humans are usually seen as "the good guys?" Or are you seeing more of a blur in the lines?
PROLOGUE
DARK & DANGEROUS
SUBJECT: REQUEST FOR DEPLOYMENT - BRAVO TEAM:
LIEUTENANT MILLER, YOUR ASSISTANCE IS REQUIRED A.S.A.P. EARLIER TODAY, A MISSING PERSONS REPORT WAS ISSUED FOR ONE CARLOS MATURADA IN MEDFORD, OREGON. MATURADA IS THE ALIAS FOR SMALL TIME PETTY TECH CRIMINAL KALO SIGMATANA FROM THE SIRIX SYSTEM. SIGMATANA’S LAST KNOWN LOCATION, ACCORDING TO HIS SISTER, WAS THE TOURING HOLLOW’S HORROR THRILLER CARNIVAL, RUN BY SEVATARIAN SORCERESS & VENTRILOQUIST MARSHIA TIA’SORO, A PRIORITY ONE SUSPECT IN A SERIES OF TERRESTRIAL ABDUCTIONS FROM THE NORTH- AND MIDWESTERN U.S.A. OVER THE PAST TWO WEEKS.
TIA’SORO MAY BE PLANNING TO SKIP OFF-WORLD WITH THE HOSTAGES AT MIDNIGHT TONIGHT, USING SIGMATANA’S TECH EXPERTISE TO DEVISE A MEANS FOR SAID ESCAPE – WE ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME. MOBILIZE YOUR TEAM FOR DEPLOYMENT, RESCUE THE HOSTAGES, AND BRING MARSHIA’S GROUP INTO CUSTODY AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE. WE HAVE FURTHER CONFIRMATION THAT OTHER EXTRATERRESTRIAL FUGITIVES, HIGHLY DANGEROUS AND POTENTIALLY ARMED, ARE TRAVELING IN THIS CARAVAN. PLEASE PROCEED WITH EXTREME VIGILANCE. GOOD LUCK, LIEUTENANT MILLER.
>>>COM. GEN. REACH – A.T.X.D. COMMAND
>>>>>>>ONE HOUR LATER<<<<<<<
>>>>>>>MEDFORD, OR<<<<<<<
>>>>>>>11:13 PM PST<<<<<<<
Were it not for the heavy armored, six-wheeled carrier vehicle pulling up alongside the parking lot, the traveling circus with its big wooden arch sign reading Hollow’s Horrors looked like a dark graveyard of equipment. But the carrier vehicle soon ground to a halt, and seven tactical operatives disembarked from a side deployment door. The operatives wore obsidian-blue uniforms, black body armor, and black lace-up, tactical patrol-style boots with clip-on armor pads around the front of their shins, and carried advanced, laser-firing assault rifles. They wore grayish-white helmets with a shielded brim that extended a few inches from the forehead, their faces from the chin to the bridge of the nose were covered by a black fabric mask, and their eyes were protected by either safety glasses or Spec Ops-style tactical goggles.
As the team approached the hurricane fencing that had been set up, the lead operative ducked down behind a portable light station. The other operatives copied her exactly, then as soon as their leader did a brief check over the edge of their cover, the team performed a brief shoulder tag to verify they were ready. The lead operative soon raised her hand and silently waved them forward.
“Eagle, I need sniper cover on that portable security tower at two o’clock,” the lead operative, Ashley Miller, whispered over a helmet radio that was connected by a simple earpiece on the left. The fourth operative in line, Jack Carson, nodded and slinked to the right with silent, rolled steps and carefully avoided fragments of litter and other debris that would give away his position.
“Buffalo, Bighorn, check 12 o’clock,” the operative following Ashley gruffly ordered behind his mask. In response, the buffest of the operatives, Mark Ramsgate, and a comrade of his silently wove to the left as the group rounded a corner and slunk behind a storage container.
Straight ahead, the team saw three ghoul-like suspects standing aimlessly next to one of the tents, clearly guarding it but luckily unaware of the operatives’ presence.
“Eagle, how’re we lookin’?” Ashley requested.
“Three bogies directly ahead of your position,” Jack confirmed, “but I’m also confirming about six, seven more hostiles converging in what I believe was the central plaza of the carnival. It looks like they’re already beginning the tear-down process.”
“Any sign of the target or the hostages?” Ashley requested.
“Negative, wait a sec…” Jack cut himself short as he saw an elderly woman coming out of a classic 19th-century-style caravan trailer. The woman briefly shifted her hands behind her, from which a small flash of energy could be seen.
“Come on you devil,” Jack hissed to himself as he locked his scope on the target, “show your face.”
Moments later, the woman turned to face a clown who still bore his menacing eyes and evil grin makeup, and Jack quietly updated the team with, “Marshia Tia’soro confirmed. She is in the central plaza area and talking to one of the fugitives.”
“Do you have an ID on the other fugitive?” the second-in-command and second-in-line, Dave "Grizzly" Connor, asked.
“It’s that clown freak: the guy who did time for lynching three teenagers, terrorizing an entire neighborhood, and who broke out of transit to Theta Base three weeks ago.”
“Clarry,” an operative who lay hunkered next to Ashley, Cameron “Mockingbird” Phillips, whispered with disgust. She had an admiration for clowns when she was a kid, but only when they were nice or played funny jokes. Clarry, however, was the kind who haunted your dreams with sadistic smiles and lethal or horrific stunts and had made A.T.X.D.’s Most Wanted List for all kinds of atrocious and unearthly pranks. Now was their chance to bring the supernatural freak who called himself a clown to justice, but Cameron kept the mix of rage and excitement in her stomach at a low for the moment.
“Bravo Leader to all operatives, turn your trackers on,” Ashley advised, activating a small circular device the size of a large watch on her wrist and checking for signs of movement. “Full range. We need to know where the hostages are.”
Briefly holding his arm out once the device was on, Mark scanned the campsite and soon found, inside the tent guarded by the ghouls, an additional five signals. But another life signal was registering to the far left of the carnival grounds, next to the eerily-darkened ferris wheel in the back.
“Bravo Leader, I believe the hostages are directly ahead at twelve o’clock,” Mark reported over the radio, “and the signatures of Marshia and Clarry are registering an extra three meters beyond them. Another life signal identified at eleven o’clock and showing little movement. Could be the missing Sigmatana kid. How do you want to proceed?”
“Let’s split up,” Ashley advised. “Mockingbird, you’re with me. We’ll liberate the hostages in the tent. Grizzly, Strawberry, I need you two to create a distraction and draw the guards away from that tent. Buffalo, you and Bighorn follow behind Grizzly and get into position so that you can neutralize the fugitives with non-lethal fire at the same moment. Once you secure the left flank, check out that reading and see if it's Sigmatana. Eagle, you provide sniper cover from above and keep an eye out for extra hostiles on the carnival grounds.”
“Roger,” Jack acknowledged. “So far, everything’s quiet down below, so you might want to proceed ahead with the plan as soon as possible, ma’am.”
With a silent nod from Ashley that was soon followed by everyone else around her, the operatives quickly broke up into their assigned tag teams. Ashley and Cameron waited behind the tent while Dave took the other three operatives - Kellie “Strawberry” McNeice, Mark, and Emily “Bighorn” Daystrom - and wove to the side, and Jack kept his crosshairs trained on Clarry and Marshia.
In less than another minute, the operatives were all in their pre-planned assault positions. Taking a slow, steady breath, Ashley soon whispered over the radio, “Phase 1, go.”
[Contact fight scene. etc. etc. etc.]
Once inside the tent, Ashley and Cameron removed their tactical goggles but not their face masks as they approached two kids and three adult hostages, all human.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Ashley repeated, lowering her rifle and holding a hand up to indicate she was friendly. Cameron then followed up and approached the hostages to remove some brutally-clamped, metal shackles on their arms.
“Stay here,” Cameron calmly ordered. “Help will be on its way.”
But just then, one of the hostages screamed, looking at something behind Cameron. Thankfully, Ashley had noticed it sooner and, wheeling around quickly, used her rifle like a shield to stop a needle-like blade that flew through the air from behind. Recovering to a ready position as the projectile clattered to the side, Ashley saw a Darkelian Vampire, currently in his human form, standing in the entrance to the tent and looking hungrily at the Team Leader.
“Come here, human,” the Darkelian hissed.
“Keep them safe,” Ashley ordered, then faced her opponent with narrow-eyed determination, “I’ll deal with this freak.”
Clipping her rifle to an electromagnetic brace on the back of her body armor, Ashley raised her fists as she prepared to meet the opponent face to face. Darkelians, however, were known for their speed, and this one rushed at Ashley so fast that she was hooked in the stomach by the assailant's arms, sent ripping through the tent’s other wall and sprawling on the dirty wet pavement outside. But while caught off guard and lying on the ground, Ashley was secretly rebuilding her strength.
Right as the Darkelian approached her, Ashley threw a foot straight into his chin, spun around and returned to her feet in less than a few seconds. The Darkelian tried to rush her again, but Ashley was ready this time, and she sidestepped before throwing a straight punch that collided knuckles first into the Darkelian’s forehead, flipping him backward and rolling onto his stomach. Ashley then subdued him by swinging her leg up and then bringing the heel of her boot down on the Darkelian’s back, knocking him against the pavement again. Without hesitation, Ashley knelt down next to the hostile, grabbed his arms, and held them stiffly against his back.
[etc. etc.]
“Grizzly to Command,” Dave informed, “Bighorn and I are headed into the security trailer. Possible hostage inside.”
Dave first patted the door with his palm to check for any unusual weighting against it before verifying if there were any explosive or chemical compounds on the other side with an advanced setting on his tracker. When both tests came back negative, Dave backed up and pulled the door open.
“He…here,” a weak young voice in his twenties called from behind a partition near one of the desks.
Turning around, Dave lowered his weapon at the relieving sight of the purple-skinned, four-armed Cemestarian, misdemeanor techy Kalo Sigmatana. Kalo lay hunkered desperately against the corner with a swollen bruise to the entire left side of his face, some burns to his two right hands, and had ghostly-looking energy bonds around both pairs of arms and his legs.
“Bighorn, diffuse those bonds, then check his vitals and mobility. But keep him down until we get the all clear from Bravo Leader.”
While Emily used a laser pen tool to disrupt and disseminate the energy particles forming Kalo’s bonds, Dave relayed, “Grizzly to Command: we have Sigmatana. Signs of torture, but the kid’s gonna live. Notify the Infirmary to prepare for a Cemestarian young adult in his early-twenties with surface injuries.”
While Dave and Emily freed the Cemestarian hostage, Mark ran on ahead and intercepted Clarry as the unearthly clown criminal sauntered towards the security trailer. The extraterrestrial clown grinned with sharp teeth and narrowed his eyes, but Mark, through his goggles, merely narrowed his own and kept his fists raised.
“Let’s have some fun shall we?” Clarry insisted, then took a flower out and prepared to puff something into Mark’s face.
Not wanting to chance if the substance would penetrate his face mask or not, Mark quickly rushed his opponent and gave him a simple uppercut to the chin. Whatever Clarry had loaded in the flower made a loud popping sound and released a cloud of blood-red gas into the air a safe distance from Mark.
“Now now,” Clarry replied, surprisingly still keeping his smirk on, “that’s no way to play nice.”
“Not trying to,” Mark replied. He then noticed an exposed cable next to one of the generator lights and picked it up. “I’m trying to take you down, freak.”
Right as Clarry got back in his personal space, Mark jammed the cable into Clarry’s abdomen. A flash of electricity caused Clarry to stumble back with a shriek in the form of a cackle, providing Mark another take-down opportunity. He rushed forward, struck a blow to the evil clown’s forehead, then grabbed him by the neck and shoulders and slammed him face-first into a stack of sandbags, puffing up a cloud of before throwing him against the wall of a derelict ride. As Clarry attempted to get back up, Mark quickly beat him unconscious with four boulder-hard blows to the face that knocked the evil extraterrestrial clown on his side and out for the count.