Invasion: Journal Three (Shockwave Book 3)

by Hammer Trollkin

  This is vital information for any and all fortress incursions, or mil-bot work in general. Good job, Roll!

  The port-techs are back with nothing to report, so we’re off to find Enroth, but I have to ask as we move out. “Roll, I’m sure it’s all in your report narrative, but I don’t get how mucking up a perfectly good RC helped to kill the bots.”

  Roll points to Rock. “It was Rock that showed the way.”

  I’m still not buying it, with Rock’s one lucky bot break. “Rock got lucky, somehow, but your method was cool and calculated.”

  Roll doesn’t like the spotlight, if he can help it. “It was just... obvious. RCs move fast, getting into attack position before the target can acquire and defend. Even if an evasion program is initiated, the movements are fast and precise. Military stuff is like that. Quick, controlled, purposeful. Rock’s RC rolled over some sticky goop that slowed it down to 5% of normal speed and made its movement erratic as it tried to reposition and overcome the goop. The bot sensors didn’t register the little RC as a threat, probably thought it was a cleaner-droid or something.”

  Okay, obvious to Roll maybe. “Good job, brother man. No doubt some techie will buzz out a software update for RCs, for a more precise, slow, erratic attack run. Or, imprecise. I don’t know. Wait!

  “Hey, Fierce, can you update the programmable functions of an RC mine?”

  Fierce doesn’t require a moment to answer, or to move on to the next level. “Sure. Piece of cake. The upgrade could also be remotely pushed to other RCs through the comms, though I’d need your enline command credentials and retinal scan to do it.”

  With that, we’re in the bot kill business. “Fierce, Roll, I’ve got a feeling Enroth is going to need some bot killing assistance. You two figure out what sort of RC program update we need. Take all the time you need, as long as it’s no more than two minutes. Please?”

  ***

  Since this room has no apparent function, odds are pretty good the room next door holds the dome and weapons control facility. And that must be the door leading to the other room. We still can’t reach Enroth or the other teams due to the level of interference. Incoming QuIM comms work, probably due to the quantum tunnel device. But not even QuIM works for an outgoing signal. I didn’t know a QuIM signal could be blocked. We’ll have to make do with our degraded normal comms system.

  At least the tunnel system status looks tip-top, chirping a happy ping, and glowing an optimal green as I check once again on our only exit. Wink said she can reverse the flow. I think that means we can flip the field and leave the premises through the tunnel.

  Para is eying the door, contemplating her method of breach. She left her stupid prybar somewhere along the way. Fierce always seems to have a large satchel charge at hand, in this case actually holding the strap for one in his hand. He has always liked a good explosion, just like Grandad.

  The door opens in. Now, what are you going to do, Para? It’s an open-inward door.

  Para hold up a hand to slow Fierce with his bomb. “We don’t need that messy thing, Silly. Swing-ins and swing-outs make no difference as long as a girl has a little room to run.”

  And there she goes. Para is so fast, not quite a blur, but it’s just not... natural. The door is dented. Her method may not be messy, but it sure is loud. Trouble will be coming.

  As Para works to get a hand-hold I hear explosions and weapons fire through the dented door. “Captain Enroth, this is Shockwave, do you copy?”

  Enroth is fuzzy clear. “Viz? Glad you’re okay. We’re taking a lot of heat in here. Literally. Mil-bots apocalypse. One soldier down. We found the control room, but we’re pinned down. Not going to last here much longer...”

  Time to reorganize. “Copy. We’ve cleared this room. Can you port in?”

  Enroth sounds on the edge of frantic. “Negative. It’s our port-tech who’s down.”

  That would be Crane, an excellent soldier. “We’ll send a port-tech. Listen. Are you all close together?”

  Peas in a pod. “We’re way too close. The stinking bots have herded us to the pen for slaughter.”

  No slaughter today. “Clear a space, six feet square, and four of you mark the corners, Ivee signal purple to mark the square. Got it?”

  Enroth would probably try anything at this point. “Copy that. We’re ready. Hurry.”

  Amy Allenmore has been tracking. “I’m ready, Viz.”

  Rock and Roll have more experience porting into a firefight in cramped quarters, but experience comes from the doing, and I trust Amy. “Go!”

  Amy has them. I take a moment to explain our roving claymore mil-bot kill program to Dirty Feet. They left their RCs in a rucksack back in their pen. Amy doesn’t wait for a directive, as she seems to fade for a split second. Then she’s standing there with the rucksack. I’ll have to have a private chat about line-of-command.

  Line-of-command? My newfound routine of military musing is interrupted by the sound of gunfire coming from the distant stairwell and a crackling call over the comms.

  It’s Sergeant Abramov of GG. “Viz, do you read this? We are to come up your stairwell. Primer regulars on heels, and there are lavashell demons from hell. Hold fire our direction.”

  Lavashells? “Roger that, Abramov. We’re on the far side of the room, maybe 200 meters. The room is clear. Do you need assistance?”

  Abramov doesn’t sound sure. “Uhhh, we will be trying to hold them in the stairwell. The lavashells, they got our medic and port-tech. Tenzin is bad off. Rev and Rossi, they are coming your way with stretcher.”

  Para hasn’t opened the door to the control room area, as she waits for us to get settled. The room next door is filled with exotic complex machinery. Within that huge control room is a large glass-enclosed operations room filled with 3D viewers and computers. That’s where we hope to find the means to regulate the fortress complex, with its big guns, and the dome shielding that protects the portal gate.

  Here comes Rev now, shouldering two men. GGs medic, Tenzin, must not have made it. Two Dirty Feet troopers take him gently from Rev, thinking it prudent to have one last exam by their own medic. Suzuki is obviously gone, charred beyond recognition. Rev steps lightly, despite the weight of his battle buddy, to lay him gently next to Crane, covering him with an e-blanket. Rev has a look to him, more revenge than reverend at this point.

  Wink grabs my arm. “I just lost signal to our quantum tunnel. The anti-tamper protocol kicked in.”

  It’s not just on a power-save mode? “We can turn it back on when we’re ready to leave, yes?”

  Wink has pursed lips and a head shake for me. “No, it’s nothing more than a tiny molecular chain of slag.”

  I hear the pitter-patter of mil-bot treads coming from the other side of the door. Overactive imagination? There’s also a lot of noise coming from the other side our room, the stairwell. It sure feels like we’re stuck, between a rock and a hard place.

  Maybe I said that out loud, as Rock deflects my thoughts with his own hammer and anvil statement. Crud.

  I should shut up and let Enroth move us forward, or wherever he wants to go, but he’s not saying much right now. “All right. Listen up. We’ve got a mission to finish.

  “Rock, flash next door with the Logan and get us a picture to work with.

  “Para, be ready with the door.

  “Amy and Bodey, port over and lend support to GG.”

  I can’t help but notice the look, as Amy and Bodey look at each other. “What? All four of you can’t always do everything together, you’re not tied at the hip.”

  Amy shakes her head. “It’s not that, we do stuff independently all the time. It’s just that Dean would be best for this. And me.”

  It’s all in getting to know your team, I guess. “Fine. Amy and Dean, assist GG. Stay on for the duration as port-techs for GG.”

  Rock is back with the Logan scan. The bots have finished scratching their sensor-domes as to what must have happened to those pesky humans that were all l
ined up for the kill, and are moving toward our dented door. It’s a bot six-pack. And, sure enough, Primers are just poking their heads in from the stairwell in the other section.

  Now, I’m all spooled-up. “Para and Fierce, get in synch. Bust the door gently, Para, it’s better cover if we can keep it mostly intact. Fierce, send in the RCs. Roll, flash-port to your heart’s desire to be sure the bots are dead. And don’t you get dead from the Primers moving in from the stairwell.

  “Abramov, this is Viz. Recommendation. Amy and Dean can flash-port faster than Roddy can put his foot in his mouth. Use them to gather intel downstairs. Maybe drop some munitions.”

  Abramov likes the suggestion. “Copy. Good to know it. Will do, Viz.”

  Enroth has some words for me. “Have you always been this fast on your feet in a disaster?”

  That statement brings a flashback to just after the first invasion, by the bugs, and the release from my greatest fear, responsibility. “No, sir. Still working it. Shockwave does have a lot of experience with this sort of fighting, though.”

  Enroth looks doubtful for some reason. “Okay. What do you... recommend next, and how do we get out of this facility?”

  I don’t know. “Well, we’re stuck in here with no way out, unless we shut the fortress shielding down so we can port. And while we’re at it, we may as well find the off-switch for the dome. Our six is covered. Let’s move forward and finish the mission.”

  In a timely show of support, the RCs started to cook off. After blast number six, Roll shimmered for an instant, grabbed a satchel charge Fierce literally had on hand, and shimmered again. One more explosion connected the last dot rattling around in my mind, and it was time to work the next problem.

  Best check on our rear guard before going in. “Abramov, how’s it going?”

  Abramov sounds almost cheerful. “We have them pinned in stairwell. If all...” A massive blast drowns out his sentence. “That one hurt my head. Sorry. Uhhh, with blast we are done over here.”

  That’s encouraging. “Awe-stounding. Recommend you set a team to watch the downstairs. Dean and someone. Then, you can come over and join us for our control room party next door.”

  Abramov likes any kind of party that involves big explosions. “Roger that. Will be right there.”

  I also know Dirty First, every single one of them, push to be first in on a fight. Even their new guys. I don’t know what O’Malley does to instill the... zeal. But sensitive gal that I am, it should be taken into account, especially with what they’ve just been through. They’ll want to get some payback.

  Let’s try this. “Para and Roll, would you mind watching the door here so nothing sneaks up on us while we’re next door? Wink, maybe you can keep an eye on them?”

  Para and Roll have seen plenty of action and don’t seem to mind a breather.

  Wink is clearly relieved and makes the point by giving me a big hug, then looks totally embarrassed. “Oh my. That wasn’t very by-the-book, or warrior-esque. I fear I’m a little shell-shocked. Apologies. And, yes, I’m happy to stay right here.”

  I know for a fact Wink has never seen any military action before today. “Wink, no worries. You’re an amazing warrior. Your first brush with kinetics, and at this level, it’s a lot. You’re amazing.”

  I better move on before Wink blushes our position away. “Okay, we’ve got to figure out where these Primers are coming from. Is there a secret room? Then, here’s what I think we should do.”

  My thoughts were redirected as Amy Allenmore tugged on my shoulder. “I thought you were with GG.”

  Amy nods. “I was. I am with GG. Need to get back. Urgent report. Imaging sent from Dean isn’t very clear, but I checked myself. Dean’s been doing some recon downstairs. Since the imaging isn’t very clear so I wanted to show you myself.” Amy released a nanocloud and pushed Dean’s recording. “It’s fuzzy, but you can see it if you look carefully.”

  It’s not that fuzzy. “They’ve got a personnel-sized portal gate? Good job Amy. That’s priority one.”

  Here comes Abramov with the rest of his upstairs crew, looking for something to do.

  I’m starting to feel like a space traffic controller whose AI-Assist called in sick. But the AI was actually at some sunny beachside resort tanning its casing, after hearing about the place on Communal’s INtelicast. Focus, Viz!

  Amy seems determined to send me over the edge. “Oh! Dean tried to port to the gate downstairs, but couldn’t. It’s fully shielded, with anti-teleporter screening.”

  I can’t help myself. “There you have it. We wouldn’t want them to make this too easy. Sorry. Good to know.”

  Wait for it. The momentum suggests there will be more exciting news.

  And here’s Dean, popping in with a message. “Primers are pushing for the stairwell. Need reinforcements.” And Dean’s gone. The Allenmore porting capability seems more fine-tuned than the norm. They often port in very close to objects with no show of concern. Rock and Roll always talk about a tiny shaking that give them a possible warning if they’re going to untangle into something, or someone. But they don’t put that kind of trust in it. I’ll file that away and let it rattle around for a bit, because...

  I haven’t heard from Para in a while, so of course she has something. “Hey, Sis. They’re moving in on us, setting up shield generators.”

  Wink is definitely a warrior. “Viz, I can help downstairs with the portal gate shielding. It will be a two-way gate, so there will be a control setup on this side. I can find it and disable the shielding. Oh no, I’ll need my toolkit. Where on Cygnus Prime did it go? Never mind. There it is. I’m ready.”

  Okay, let’s get to work. As the teams gather their gear, amidst the sound of explosions from Bodey and Codey harassing the enemy, I’d love a moment of stillness and clarity. And maybe a few seconds to formulate an actual action plan.

  Amy was here a minute ago. “Amy? There you are. Our porting protocols have been pretty loose on this mission. I couldn’t help notice how you and you brothers seem to port hither and yon without a care in the world. The few times I’ve ported with Rock and Roll into tight spots, they warned me it was risky, with a chance we’d end up untangling in a piece of equipment or something.”

  Amy looks a little embarrassed. “Uhhh. I guess it’s like that with most port-techs? We, I guess, have a more precise information feed during the entanglement exchange. It kind of... hurts, a definite warning to stop the port, if there’s trouble at the untangle point. Once, I was porting containers to Lewis-McChord, but someone slipped up and dropped a can in my spot. I tried porting to my coordinates, my spot, and it felt like I was being shaken like a rag doll. I just shifted to the side a bit and dropped my can. We Allenmores can precision port without concern.”

  That’s good to know. “Amy, I know you’re still really new to the team, but that would have been good to know. You Allenmores and I are going to have a little talk when this is done.”

  Amy looks crestfallen. “I’m sorry, Viz. Bring up things like that feel like bragging.”

  A concussive impact on the dented door nearby signals my time is up, and my very makeshift plan is the best we’re going to get. “We’ll be talking, Amy. Everyone, listen up! Four teams. Assignment adjustments have been highlighted and are migrating to your Ivees... now. We move out in 30 seconds, so read fast!”

  ***

  I was having a hard time keeping track of everyone as the fighting escalated on multiple fronts. Despite amplifiers, our comms were severely limited. Updates came to me from an occasional report from one port-tech or another, untangling close enough to my shifting position to use the cruddy comms. Communal had me worried. With the tunnel gone, he had no QuIM access, and was relying on whatever processing power was packed in his casing. It was turning into a busy day.

  My group had managed to set up near the glass enclosure of what we thought to be the main operations room, intending to confront the Primer defensive position this side of the glass. Our reluctanc
e to move on them was due to a new threat next door in the room we had just vacated. At least 30 Prime troopers were moving into the room, to meet our traps.

  The chatter of the automated IMR (Interstellar-war Model Railgun) spewing spooky rounds, followed by those deep satisfying thumps you can feel through the floor suggested that threat may have been eliminated. Rock’s brief head shake and nauseous look when returning from his brief port-recon gave the confirmation. It was time to make our move on the operations room.

  ***

  The fortress basement was another trouble spot, with the small portal gate opening every few minutes with four or five enemy troops. It was as though Primer command was struggling to find guys to push through. Even at that, the enemy numbers were mounting. We had done enough recon to be certain the only other way into the fortress facility was a delivery access bay serviced by a huge drop tube from ground level to the basement. And that, for sure, wasn’t going to be operational for a very long time. The shielded portal gate was another story, one that would have to wait for a more opportune moment.

  ***

  With comms almost requiring line-of-sight to connect, it made sense to split command, with Enroth overseeing the basement, and me handling the upstairs. GG, with Enroth, Bodey, Codey, and Dean, formed up in the facility basement at the control room stairwell. Dirty Feet, with Wink, Fierce, and Amy, merged at the other stairwell, at the far end of the basement.

  The GG group divided into three teams of four to engage the enemy, each with a port-tech to provide flash-port recon and transportation. The Primers were clumping up in a squad sized groups, making for the stairwells, staying close enough to provide mutual support.