The Rise of D.U.S.K.

Lifting the grate, she shoved it across and leaped out, then raced out of the alley and into the brightly lit main street.

“Where did she go?” The T.U.S.K. Agent called as he climbed out of the underground tunnel.

“Don’t tell me we lost her again!” Sergeant Rashid screamed, as he hauled himself out of the hole; puffing as he rolled his great bulk along the ground, before getting to his feet. “She needs to be caught!”

“Well, she is pretty fast.” The T.U.S.K. Agent pointed out while holstering his gun.

He didn’t expect the whack across the head that he received from the sergeant. “She can run fast? That’s all you can say! Go out there and get her!” He ordered, before turning to yell down the manhole. “The rest of you – get your arses up here and track her down!”

Within a matter of minutes all eight T.U.S.K. Agents were out of the manhole and gathered in the alley.

“Where did she go, sir?” A young agent adjusted his helmet, before powering up his weapon.

“That’s your job, agent!” Sergeant Rashid shouted angrily, before turning on the rest. “What the hell are you getting paid for, when you can’t catch an eight-year-old girl? You’re meant to be T.U.S.K. Agents – that’s what that elephant symbol on your uniforms signifies! You are Trackers of Unwanted Street Kids – you get paid to track and capture street kids! But they seem to be outsmarting you!” Sergeant Rashid breathed hard, as he attempted to catch his breath.

“Well, he’s not doing a good job catching them himself,” One agent mumbled to a second.

The sergeant’s face turned a darker shade as he stepped threateningly towards the agent. “Did you have something to say, Agent Sheno?” The man shook his head. Sergeant Rashid gritted his teeth and swung his fist into Agent Sheno’s helmet. As Sheno fell to the ground, Rashid spun around to the other agents. “I have been on this force since its inception in 2989! That’s ten years! Ten years and the elite of Indiasian society still has to deal with street kids pilfering treasures, food and livestock from the hard working communities! It is our job as T.U.S.K. agents to capture these troublesome urchins and give them a purpose or else they need to be eradicated!” He adjusted his gauntlet and looked down at Agent Sheno, who was slowly recovering from the blow. “Get up!” The sergeant ordered, “The gauntlet was only set to stun!” When the agent did not react to the command quickly enough, Sergeant Rashid kicked him. “Somebody get him on his feet and then all of you get out there and round up some street kids!”

The agents organised themselves immediately and raced out onto the main street, leaving Sergeant Rashid to his thoughts. At first the big man muttered to himself about the manner in which the T.U.S.K. Force conducted itself, but then he decided to slide the manhole cover back over the entrance to the underground tunnel. Moving the cover would have been a lot easier if the man’s bulk did not get in the way, but he persisted and when it finally fell into place, Sergeant Rashid was dripping with sweat and trying to catch his breath.

“Tee-hee-hee.”

The sergeant turned and lifted his head to see where the giggle was coming from. At the entrance to the alley stood the girl that they had been chasing; she was around eight years-old and wore the remnants of an ancient World War IV uniform. In her hand she dangled a dazzling heart-shaped locket, while giggling and taunting the officer.

“That locket does not belong to you, girl!” Sergeant Rashid shouted, as he grabbed at his multi-blaster and powered it up. “It belongs to the elite of Indiasian society! So give it back here and come with me like a good little girl or I will be forced to shoot.”

The girl smiled and put a finger to her lips. “Shh!” She hushed as she looked about the alley way.

To his surprise, the sergeant found himself quiet and scanning the alley, but when he realised what he was doing, a fury rose in him. “How dare you shush me, you filthy street rat! I am Sergeant Rash…” But his declaration ceased when the girl’s eyes fixed on him and she smiled again.

“D.U.S.K. is coming,” she told him and then raced out of the alley.

The sergeant fired his blaster. It hit the corner of the wall and sprayed bits of brick debris out onto the main street. “Get back here, girl! Give back that locket!” He yelled, as he moved as quickly as his tremendous size would allow him.

Just as he neared the end of the alley the sound of a clang alerted him to something approaching from above. A dark silhouette came hurtling down on him feet first. He had no time to react and crashed to the ground. When he re-orientated himself, he noticed a pair of black boots at street level which, when he looked up, merged into a black one-piece uniform with silver and pink piping. As he sat up, Sergeant Rashid found himself looking at a girl of about fourteen or fifteen years of age with long black flowing hair, which blew in the warm night breeze.

“You… you know that striking… an… an agent of T.U.S.K. is punishable by death.” Sergeant Rashid stuttered in the midst of trying to lift himself off the ground. The girl said nothing, but produced two power batons in each hand, both about the length of her arms. The threatening gesture made the sergeant scour the alley for his weapon, but he could not see his blaster anywhere. As he got to his feet, he powered up his gauntlets to mortal damage. “The curfew has been in place for three hours now and you should not be out on the street. You are not one of them. Identify yourself, so that I can register your name to the correct precinct.”

“My name is Samira and I am a defender of those you call the Unwanted Street Kids,” The girl said in a thick Central Indiasian accent, then without warning she powered up her baton and let loose a barrage of hits all over the sergeant’s body.

His reaction time was way too slow and as Samira flipped back to where she had started, Sergeant Rashid simply stood there swaying. “Is… is that… all?” The way Rashid put forward this question was almost with a hint of surprise and fear put together.

“You have less than a minute. I have just hit several pressure points and you will…”

Before she had finished her sentence, the sergeant’s bladder and bowels gave way and he soiled himself. Then he vomited violently and a gush of the day’s meals mixed with bile and blood gushed out. Finally his eyes bulged, his legs gave way and he collapsed into his own effluent.

“It is not right that only the rich and powerful get to live – the street kids need a defender,” she told the prone body of the sergeant, before she sheathed her batons and collected his blaster from beside the Recyclo-dumpster.

“You… you attacked a… a T.U.S.K. agent,” the sergeant strained a response, as he spat out more blood. “Who… who do you think you are?”

“I am D.U.S.K.” the girl announced, before scaling the wall and disappearing.

The sergeant wheezed heavily as he tried to lift himself. “D.U.S.K.” he whispered and fell face down in the pool of his own refuse; his world darkened forever.