Knowing that he was leaving himself open to overwatch fire from the invisible platoon leader, Jack stood and bolted between two buildings, getting himself as close to the bombardiers as he could. According to the drones overhead, they were still concentrating on the rest of his fire team further down the street from Jack.
Taking a few slow and deep breaths, he prepared himself to assault the bombardiers. A few well-placed explosive rounds to get their attention, a burst of sliver rounds in their direction. Repeat, repeat, repeat. If he’d only had more hand grenades, that would make things easier, but he’d used up the two he’d been carrying early in the combat. He made a mental note to himself to not be so wasteful of his hardware in the future.
He flipped the ammo switch to high explosive, and his rifle rapidly changed the barrel and receiver. His AHUD showed targeting information for the bombardiers. While all Shiveen looked alike, there were subtle differences their carpaces relating on their combat role. Bombardiers were larger and much bulkier that infantry, with enhanced armor plating on their torsos and across their head and shoulders. Their weapons were about twice the size of normal Shiveen rifles, requiring all four of the bombardier’s hands to use, as they slung low under them between their legs, bracing them on the ground while they fired.
Jack stepped out between the buildings, aiming down his rifle sights towards the bombardiers, and rapidly squeezed the trigger.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Three high explosive rounds launched towards the bombardier’s flank, two of them exploding harmlessly on their armored carapaces. One found its mark and exploded, striking the ammo reservoir of one weapon, causing its chemical ammunition to splash all over the lower body of the bombardier holding it. The surprise attack caused that Shiveen to drop its weapon, opening up its underbody for Jack.
He flipped the ammo selector to sliver rounds and fired a short burst at the Shiveen bombardier. One of the other bombardiers moved to put its back in the way of the oncoming shots, to shield its comrade The remaining bombardier turned its lobster head in Jack’s direction and rotated its body and weapon, readying it to fire.
Jack moved, ducking out of the way before the first shot from the bombardier exploded on the ground next to him. Not quick enough, though, as he felt something splatter onto the back of his armor. His AHUD showed a diagram of his armored body from a rear view, lighting up areas on his armor where the chemical weapon had landed. The splash damage was only superficial — there was only a little damage to the top layers of his ceramic armor.
Now that the bombardiers knew where he was, they split their fire between his team mates and Jack. The drone flying overhead reported that Jack’s attack on the bombardiers had taken one of them out. That evened the odds a little.
“Anderson,” said Stone. “Move up.”
In Jack’s AHUD, he saw Anderson do as Stone commanded, picking his way forward towards the bombardiers, stepping into the street now, firing his heavy weapon directly towards their position. Stone himself was moved towards the bombardiers, using cover as he found it. Bandura remained at the rear, providing covering fire for both of them, all under the watchful eye of her drones.
The question now was where Jack should move to. His ability to flank the bombardiers was gone, as one of them was now lobbing rounds at him, and there was little cover between him and them. His surprise attack wouldn’t work again, with the bombardiers curling themselves and their heavy armor over the top of their weapon, giving Jack little chance to do any lasting damage to them.
What he needed was to get to higher ground.
The buildings surrounding him were multi-storied, though most had been leveled or reduced to rubble. The particular building he was using for cover right now had two mostly intact floors: the ground and the first. If there was enough rubble or even a stairwell remaining undamaged, he’d be able to potentially take out some of the remaining Shiveen infantry, or one or more of the remaining bombardiers if he could get onto that second floor.
The trick was getting inside the building.
Jack retraced his steps, moving backwards, keeping his rifle pointing forward as he did in case anything crossed his view. Like the Shiveen leader.
He found what he was looking for: a small open window that opened into a basement level. It was just wide enough for Jack to climb through, though it meant holstering his weapon momentarily. Before doing that he eyeballed the basement then went legs first through the window, arhcing his back a little as he dropped onto the hard floor several feet below. He switched the AHUD to night-vision mode, superimposing a green and black overlay over his own vision, which was still adjusting to the raw darkness of the basement.
The basement looked clear, although strewn with rubble and smashed containers. There were several holes in the ceiling, the synthcrete from the holes laying in chunks on the basement floor. The sounds of the battle raging outside the basement was muted now. In the corner of Jack’s view, in stark contrast to the green and black of the night vision, Bandura’s drone video continued to transmit in full color, highlighting enemy combatants and sharing combat data to everyone watching.
Jack carefully stepped through the basement. He didn’t have the support of Bandura’s drones down here with him and was relying on the combat training he’d received and his many hours of simulation training.
Find the exits. Sweep the room. Check corners and doorways, floors and ceilings. Move while scanning. Secure the immediate area.
Stop. Breathe. Do it all again, move closer to the next objective.
It only took a few moments to find the rubble-strewn steps leading up to the first floor. Jack flattened against the wall, aiming his gun up them, sweeping from left to right. The door at the top of the stairs was missing, lying in pieces. There was nothing else there.
Step by cautious step, Jack ascended the basement stairs, breathing shallow and focused, ready to fire at anything that crossed his view. As he climbed, light from the firefight outside flashed through holes in walls, sending temporary bursts of bright green that spotted his vision. The sounds of comabat came into focus again.
Near the top of the stairs, Jack prepared himself to exit the doorway. He squatted again, making himself as small a target as he could, and leaned into the large room in front of him, scanning it before pulling himself back into cover.
There was nothing in the main room except the remnants of furniture and housewares.
Jack counted to three then leaned out of the stairwell, rotating so he could look at the area that had been behind him.
Nothing there either. Half the wall in the far end was missing, and through it Jack saw Anderson moving up the street again, his heavy rifle spitting fire and metal slivers at the Shiveen, of which there were now only one bombardier and one infantry left.
And the platoon leader, wherever the hell it was hiding.
Jack scanned both rooms again, looking for a way to get up to the next floor. Any stairs had been obliterated. Perhaps there was a way to climb up using rubble? Sweeping the rooms as he moved through them, Jack found what he needed: part of the second floor had collapsed, turning the floor into a ramp, albeit a steep one. He moved up it, keeping his rifle tight to him and scanning around.
The second floor of the building was almost gone, except for the rear walls and some roof above those walls. As Jack crested the ramp he saw there was little cover on the second floor. He dropped onto his stomach and crawled across the stable floor area, towards the front of the building, towards some rubble that provided minimal cover that he could get behind. He switched off the night vision mode.
Via the drone high above, Jack saw that he had a clear line of fire to the bombardier unit, which was busy fending off Anderson’s barrage and flanking fire from Stone. Jack positioned himself and rested his rifle atop the rubble, stabilizing it.
A flick of the ammo selector changed the rounds from slivers to radioactive-tipped sniper rounds. Jack saw
the rifle barrel reconfigure itself, elongating and thinning to provide the additional length this weapon mode needed.
Looking down the sights, he touched the viewscope button on the rifle and his AHUD changed to display an enhanced view from the sniper rifle atop his normal vision. A slide of a finger along the sensor on the length of the rifle magnified his view. He could see the moving mouth pieces of the panicked bombardier as it waged a losing fight against the marine fire team.
His finger over the trigger, Jack breathed out, becoming one with his rifle.
A single loud crack came from his rifle and the rail-accelerated sniper round found its mark, exploding through the bombardier’s face and sending the creature flying backwards from the shot’s impact.
Jack tapped the viewscope button again and the sniper window switched back to normal view. He rolled onto his back, refocusing himself for what came next.
The alien platoon leader — almost half again the size of a normal Shiveen — stood above him, rearing up on its legs, four wicked blades made of the same chitin as its armor in its hands. Before he could react, the creature fell on him, all four blades descending at once towards Jack.
Jack’s hands grasped at the simulation suit he was wearing, trying to rip if off. The advanced biofeedback sensors that immersed the wearer in the simulation sent raw scarlet pain into Jack’s chest and lower abdomen; in the simulation Jack’s body was being ripped apart by the Shiveen’s blades. He pulled at the collar, clawing at the synthetic outfit before remembering that the suits sealed in the rear . He tapped the simulation helmet at the disconnect switch and he was ejected from the simulation.
“Goddamnit,” he shouted. Around him in the low-lit simulation room, the others in his fire team stood or knelt in their own simulation suits, wearing the same helmet he wore, hands empty where their simulated weapons were. They would have been notified within the simulation that he had died and disconnected.
Stone touched his own helmet and exited the simulation, blinking his eyes twice and looking around for Jack. His eyes narrowed.
“What’s that now? Nine deaths?”
Jack grimaced.
“Yes, Corporal,” replied Jack. Bandura and Anderson also exited the simulation. As soon as they did, the lights gently brightened, highlighting the diamond-pattern of the walls, floor, and ceiling of the simulation room.
“Just remember, Conway, that it only takes one in the real world. Door.”
The faint outlines of a door appeared in one wall and Stone walked towards it. It slid open with a soft hiss for him to exit. Before he did, he turned back to Jack.
“Nice shot at the end there,” he said, and left.
“Damn straight that was a nice shot,” said Anderson, slapping a meaty hand onto Jack’s shoulder. “Except for the part where it got you killed.”
“Yeah,” said Jack glumly. He should have suspected that the platoon leader had been up to hiding. The reason that the drones hadn’t seen it was because it had been using the building as cover. He’d have to keep that in mind.
“What the hell happened back in there?” he asked. Anderson laughed.
“You got popped by one of Bandura’s tweaks,” the big man said. Bandura stood beside him, grinning.
“I’ve been, ah, tweaking some of our simulations,” she said. “Adding in some modifications to make the Shiveen more unpredictable and dangerous. Think of it like New Game Plus Plus Plus. Last time it was Stone that got popped first.”
Anderson laughed.
“I’m sure he was secretly pleased it was the Rook this time that timed out first. I think you also upped their combat skills, Mel.”
“Maybe,” said Bandura, a sly grin on her face. “Won’t tell.”
“Hold on,” said Jack. “You’re changing our combat sims?”
“Sure. It’s not hard. A little extra RNG, a little tweaking of the combat scripting, and BOOM: something more like what you can expect to see in the field. Never liked the combat sims they use in basic. Way too … basic.”
“Too many booms,” said Anderson. “That was one of the hardest sims yet.”
“Well, no point in them being easy. Defeats the purpose. In a real fight it comes down to kill or be killed. My Shiveen are just better than the average Shiveen on the field.”
Jack understood Bandura’s thinking, and realized that he felt even less prepared now to face the Shiveen in the real world, especially if they were anything like those in Bandura’s tweaked sims.
Anderson slapped his palms against his abdomen.
“Who wants to get naked and eat?”
“Anderson,” Bandura said. “No shirt, no shoes, no service in the mess hall.”
“Pants optional. Got it.”
As Anderson and Bandura walked away to the door leading out of the simulation room, Jack began wondering if he was cut out to be an officer.
It only takes one in the real world, Stone had said.
4 Arrival At Pallas
Jack awoke to massive shudder, a blaring alarm, and red combat lighting in the bunk room. Around him, the other graduates woke just as groggily as he. Nathine was already on her feet and pulling her uniform on.
“Hurry, Jack,” she said. “It is time.”
Over the intercom system came the deep voice of Commander Nambo.
“All marines, report to the launch bay. We are now at Condition Two. All marines, report to the launch bay…”
Jack checked the time on his alek. He had only been asleep for three hours.
“I thought we were still several hours out from Pallas,” he muttered.
“We are.” said Stanton, who looked like he had slept little too. “We just hit the Pallas sun node point. Something pulled us out.”
Jack threw his legs over the side of his bunk and rubbed his face with his hands. Nathine leaned down, taking Jack’s hands, and pulling him up from his bunk. Nervous excitement shone in her eyes, and her whiskers were twitching quickly, just like her tail.
“Jack!” she barked.
“I’m up, I’m up!”
He quickly grabbed his clothes, which he had neatly folded and lay aside the previous evening. Stanton finished dressing before anyone else and bolted out of the bunkroom saying nothing. In the corridor beyond the door there was a mad scramble of activity as other marines and Dauntless crew hustled. Jack finished dressing, tightening his belt. The other graduates, save for Nathine and Khouri, had already followed Stanton out of the room.
Khouri extended a hand to Jack and Nathine. “For what it’s worth,” he said. “Be safe, marines.”
Jack shook his hand, feeling Khouri’s nervousness as he did. “You too, Muhammad. See you back here when we’re done.”
Nathine also took his hand. “Be safe,” she said to him.
Khouri nodded then left, leaving Nathine and Jack alone. He extended a hand to her.
“Nathine…”
The uplift stepped up to Jack and embraced him, pulling her into him. He returned the hug. “I do not have many friends, Jack Conway. I count you among them.”
“Same, Nathine.”
“Be safe. If you die, I will be upset.”
“You too, Nat.”
Laroux looked at the scrolling feed of data showing up in his AHUD. There was a Shiveen ship, a heavy cruiser, ship laying in wait for them, casting a disruption at the primary node jump point, where they had planned to relay onto the primary jump point at Pallas IV.
“Ship status, Mister Nambo,” barked Laroux, checking navigation and scanner data. Around Laroux, the CIC was a blur of activity as everyone prepped the dreadnought for combat; they were prepared for the possibility of their linkspace travel being disrupted.
“Moving to readiness state, Captain,” said Nambo. “Mass drivers and defensive batteries online.”
“Very good.”
“There is another ship at the secondary point, Captain.”
“I see it, XO. It’s too far away to bother us right now. Let’s focus on what
’s in front of us.”
Damn Shiveen.
They had parked a ship at both major nodes of the Pallas sun, catching the Dauntless like a fly in a spider web. Without being able to jump back into linkspace, they would have to hard burn for Pallas I, which meant potentially running a gauntlet of enemy ships on the way
“Lieutenant Shannon,” said Laroux to the navigation specialist. “Set an alternate route to Pallas I, slinging us out and around on a thirty degree arc on the heading three two four at maximum burn.”
“Aye, Sir,” said Shannon. Laroux watched as she tapped on her screen and in the air as she used her AHUD. The heading would allow them to hit Pallas I and use it to get back into linkspace. They’d only lost a few hours at most, unless the Shiveen had dropped ships at every other planet in the system.
Laroux didn’t put it past the sneaky bastards.
“Course entered, Captain,” said Shannon.
“Make it happen, Mister Shannon.”
“Aye, Sir,” she replied, activating the new heading. Laroux heard the subtle shift in the Dauntless’ engines as it began the course correction maneuvers, secondary thrusters firing and turning the ship on its axis.
Nambo approached Laroux.
“They could have cruisers waiting on the way to the first planet. I would,” said Nambo.
“They could. Depends how much they really want to keep us out.”
“Or draw us in.”
“We can handle it.”
The Dauntless hadn’t officially been in any engagements yet. The trip to the officer graduate ceremony at Arianne Station had been its shakedown flight and a way to get Admiral Kennedy to the service quickly. His old friend had stayed behind to travel on a slower cruiser that had followed them to Arianne. One good thing about being an admiral is that you get to pull rank and get the fastest ship possible when you want or need to.
Emancipation Page 5