While Calico went about punching in the correct code, Kyler and Doc walked into the weapons room at the same time, Doc matching Kyler’s pace by taking two steps for every one of the Aussie giant’s. Nathen pointed to each of them in turn.
“Doc, you're on mag duty. Find out what all everyone's getting and bulk up on two mags extra each. Buckshot, you're gunner. Take the thirty.”
Trent finished loading up his Greylance sniper rifle and slung it over his shoulder, moving around to make sure he could shrug it into his arms quickly.
“Sharps.”
Trent came to attention at his commander's call. Nathen motioned toward the explosives. “You got the Meteor.”
The sniper glanced at the glass wall and nodded a salute to the commander before going to gather the indicated equipment. Nathen called after him.
“Be sure to get a target finder, too. I’ll want to hit some things from longer range and I’ll need visual targets for that.”
Nathen walked up to a free keypad and started entering in the number for his own weapon. The Coyote was a standard 5.56 caliber assault rifle with decent punch and a twenty-round magazine; with opportunities for thirty-round magazines. It had ammo sleeves on either side, mounted on the adjustable bar stock, allowing for faster reloading. Nathen watched as the Coyote rack ejected one weapon into the grasp of the robotic arm which dropped it onto the padded floor of the locker. Nathen opened the hatch and retrieved his weapon. After jabbing in the number of mags he wanted, Nathen collected the ammunition and shut the hatch.
Nathen checked the chamber of his weapon, a habit he was told was no longer necessary but continued anyway. The weapons were pre-checked by the ordinance techs, and no human had contact with the arms until they were distributed from the display, but Nathen would rather not have a nasty surprise if some indifferent smart aleck got lazy on the job. Better safe than sorry.
The Coyote checked out, and Nathen slammed a thirty-round mag hard into the empty slot. He slid two of his spare mags into their sleeves on either side of the weapon before placing the remaining two magazines on his gear belt. Nathen advanced a round into the firing chamber with a quick snap of his wrist, watched the ammo counter flicker to indicate thirty rounds, paused to test the weight of the weapon in his hands, and turned his eyes to the big gun that he knew he’d need, sitting silently behind the glass.
The Pennington rocket launcher was a pleasant little herald of destruction. Nathen admired its simultaneous complexity and simplicity. Really the launcher was about as simple a concept as you could ask: just a length of hollow pipe—big enough to fit his fist in—which directed a rocket-powered explosive toward whatever needed a good explosive punch. While rocket technology had been around since the dawn of Humanity’s space age, and was considered entirely obsolete for propulsion purposes, one couldn't deny it was still an effective delivery system for weaponry. Add to the foolproof delivery system a five-rocket auto-load capacity and you had the Pennington.
“How are you guys doing on that demo gear?” Nathen snapped at Phillip and Jonathan. Phillip leaned around the corner, an armful of high impact charges in his hands.
“I can't make up my mind! Do I go with the drone seekers or the grav sapper charges?”
“Stop stalling, pick one explosive and load up on it!”
Phillip wheeled around in feign dizziness. “Don't make Daddy choose! I love you all!”
Nathen slung the Pennington over his shoulder with a thump and picked up his Coyote. “Fiend, hand me a rocket pack, would you?”
The Stealthist dropped a heavy, armored backpack of ten rockets into the crook of Nathen's free arm.
“Alphas, hit the hangar.”
Nathen passed by Calico just as she finished sliding the twenty-round clip into her Casper.
“Stick close, Trast.”
Calico nodded and slid her spare mags into her web belt.
In the hangar, Helen was just finishing talking to the pilots. Nathen met her about halfway to the dropships.
“Ready to rock, Boss,” Helen said as someone passed her a Coyote by Nathen's arm. “Say that thing you do.”
“Game on,” Nathen replied. He tossed her the rocket pack, which she took and wrapped around her shoulders. He turned just as the rest of the team fell into line in the hangar.
“All right, here’s how the mission works. I don’t have time to repeat myself so listen closely. Our good friends on board the Sledgefast are going to cause a distraction for us so we can get to the moon unnoticed. While they’re faking out the Yew by making a mock scouting pass at their sentries, we’re going to glide in and deploy ourselves quickly and quietly into the atmosphere. With luck and skill, we’ll be in and out before we run out of air.”
Nathen heard his ear buzz as Red, from his seat in Hybrid One, called him.
“Ready to fly, sir.”
Nathen eyed the team through his Genesis helmet. “Anyone got a statement you wanna share before we do this?”
No one said anything, so Nathen jabbed a thumb in the direction of the Hybrids. “Let’s get to it, then. Bayonet, you take Sharps, Doc and Fiend in Hybrid One. Buckshot, Daytana, you're with me in Hybrid Two. Let’s put it in gear!”
Nathen turned and jogged over to the Hybrid dropship with II painted on its nose. The side hatch slid open at his approach and Nathen saw Rathe the co-pilot moving back into the cabin. Nathen stepped up and turned on his heel, coming to a rest against his seat opposite the door. Nathen waited for Kyler, Phillip, and finally Calico to get in before shutting the door.
Nathen sat down and strapped the Pennington to the floor guard before buckling himself into his crash webbing. Someone activated the blue safety light in the ceiling, but the scene came into focus as the suit’s visor adjusted to the Hybrid's dark cabin. Nathen turned his eyes in the direction of the cockpit.
“Griffins?”
Rathe, face concealed behind a blast shield, turned around in his seat. “Just waiting for word from the captain. We don’t want to deploy too soon.”
After nearly two minutes, Nathen heard the Hybrid’s dual ion drives rumble to life. The hatch to the cockpit sealed itself and the air in the cabin adjusted internal pressure as the Hybrid lifted off the deck launch. Nathen strapped down his Coyote over his head and tried to relax.
“Here we go,” he muttered.
Nathen felt the dropship rattle while the hangar doors opened to the vacuum of space. The dropship activated its gravjets and retracted its landing gear as the hangar's docking beam lowered it into position. At that moment, Haven Alpha was settling into deployment position above Cravac. Leonard, Hybrid Two's pilot, spoke over the cabin's speaker.
“Heads up, everyone! We're flyin’ high in... Ten... Nine... Eight...”
“Oh God,” Calico whimpered, gripping her restraints tighter. “I'm not ready for this.”
Nathen let slip a smirk as the irony of her statement flew over her head. Leonard's voice continued.
“Five... Four... Three...”
The Hybrid jolted away from the docking beam, and suddenly the dropship was floating free of the mobile headquarters. There was a second where there was nothing but the hum of the dropship's engines.
“One.”
Suddenly, the Hybrid shot forward into open space, and Nathen felt himself press against his harness. The sudden acceleration was far smoother than any standard assault shuttle, and the Genesis armor seemed to oddly counteract the G-force. The graceful flight of the Hybrid ensued, sprinting faster and faster through space with no perceptible change in the cabin.
Nathen pressed his fingers to the side of his helmet and focused. The living alloy sensed his will and switched on the comm. that connected him to Haven Alpha. After a second, he spoke.
“Ambassador, we are away.”
The reply came back, calm, collected and clear. “Godspeed, Team Alpha. I hope to see you all soon.”
Nathen took his fingers away from his helmet, taking note of how Gordon had said t
he word ‘all’. He shot a look at Calico, who had her knees pulled in tight as she fought the urge to curl into a mewling ball. Even though Nathen couldn’t see her face, he instantly noticed the way that she was leaning forward against her crash webbing, gripping her restraints tightly as her chest rose and fell with her red alloy.
“What's wrong?” asked Nathen, having to speak rather loudly as the dropship juiced up on the out-thrust. Calico shook her head, sickly.
“I left my stomach in the hangar.”
Nathen looked to his right at Phillip, who shot back a glinting gunmetal gray stare. The tech cocked his head sideways and shrugged at Nathen, not sure what to tell him. Nathen sighed and turned back to Calico.
“Just try to relax. Remember, that armor is bonded with your metabolism. Take a deep breath before it has to take one for you.”
Calico nodded, shakily. “Sir.”
Suddenly Leonard's voice spoke into Nathen's ear from the cockpit.
“The Sledgefast is clear. If we don’t make it groundside in the next ten minutes, those Yew ships are gonna be right on top of us.”
Nathen nodded and touched the side of his head. “ETA?”
“Seven minutes, maybe more. It’s hard to tell with this moon’s fast spin. Just hang on. We’re about to bounce ourselves through the upper atmosphere.”
Nathen placed his feet in the traction grips on the floor and braced himself for the bump. Several seconds later, the dropship jolted hard, and Nathen could almost hear the hiss from the glow of friction as the moon's atmosphere started scraping against the hull. Two minutes later, their low-power re-entry was over and they were through. Then the drop began.
Nathen felt slightly lighter as artificial gravity fought with real gravity. The dropship began plummeting belly first toward the ground. He took a deep breath, and let it out. Across from him, Calico was hunched against her crash webbing, holding a hand to the face of her helmet.
“Aw, man...” she moaned.
Nathen silently registered and logged her reaction. If this became a problem, Calico wouldn’t last long in battle. Leonard's voice spoke again from the cockpit.
“Hang on everyone. Switching to rotary-blade flight.”
Nathen heard the whirring and grinding of machinery, and envisioned the six propellers extending above his head. The plummet from high altitude slowly stabilized as Leonard gave the gravjets a little goose to keep the dropship stable until the blades powered on. After a second, the engine that fed the blades kicked to life and the rotors began spinning. In seconds the cabin was serenaded by the methodical pounding of air. Nathen tensed despite his attempts to stay relaxed as the dropship slowed its descent. At last, like a long elevator ride coming to an end, the Hybrid hovered out, several hundred feet above the ground, judging by the instruments on the cabin wall.
“Blades deployed,” Rathe said behind the thick cockpit hatch. “Stealth mode engaged.”
“Smooth,” Leonard added, raising his voice over the whump of the blades. “Hybrid One, I have your wing coming in.”
In response, somewhere outside the cabin in the nearby air, Nikolai came back.
“Copy, Hybrid Two. Stay close. There are some bad winds coming down that crevasse at nine o'clock.”
Nathen sat patiently as the Hybrid banked smoothly through rough air, even as the cabin continued to adjust to the new atmosphere. Suddenly Nikolai's voice came through Nathen's helmet.
“I have a landing zone in sight, Commander,” the pilot said, with concern. “Bad area; very rocky.”
“Rocky is good,” Nathen said, unbuckling and reaching overhead to retrieve his Coyote. “Take us in, low and slow.”
The commander shot a quick series of hand signals to the others to get their attention, who instantly started unstrapping themselves and their weaponry. Nathen secured the Pennington to his back and took a knee on the cabin floor as he double-checked his assault rifle. Meanwhile, Kyler went about professionally loading his Blitz thirty caliber machine gun and running a cursory check over his lever-handle Pitbull shotgun. Phillip pulled a long, tarp-wrapped package off the wall and strapped it to his back before quickly running a check on his Casper SMG. Calico mimicked the technician, trying to keep up with his quick but somewhat sloppy gun prep.
The blue light overhead turned to yellow; the signal to ready up. Nathen stood, armed and dangerous and circled a finger in front of him to rally the others around him. The Hybrid started to slow as it leveled out over the ground. Nathen pressed two fingers to the side of the temple of his helmet. He felt the Genesis armor link their comms.
“Comms check,” Nathen spoke, focusing. “Ready up and sound off!”
The wireless, waveless communications of the Genesis armor came through clear and strong as eight members in two dropships sounded off, respectively in order.
“Bayonet!” Helen snapped. “Assault and command, ready!”
“Buckshot!” Kyler bellowed next to Nathen. “Thirty mach, loaded and locked!”
“Sharps!” Trent called, smartly. “Scope down, eyes up!”
“Doc!” cried the medic. “Checked and cleared!”
“Fiend!” barked the stealthist. “Primed and prepped!”
“Speaker,” Calico recited, naming herself. “Weapon stacked and locked.”
“Daytana!” burst Phillip. “Guns, at the ready!”
“Knight!” Nathen shouted, finally. “Deus Ex Machina! Deploy on my mark!”
Nathen racked the slide on his Coyote and powered it on as the Hybrid's landing gear deployed. Suddenly the yellow light turned green and the side door disengaged, knifing back and flooding the cabin with natural light. The muffled sounds of six rotor blades beating overhead came through Nathen’s helmet. Nathen looked down, took one second to analyze the four foot drop to the rocky platform beneath them, and then dropped out of the Hybrid. He hit the alien stone and instantly took a knee as a small impact puff of dust wafted out from under him.
“Everyone, pile out!”
Kyler hit the rocks next while Nathen kept scanning the perimeter with his assault rifle. The seven foot Paxtonite came down next to Nathen like a load of bricks, hitting the stone with a heavy slam that looked to be nothing more than descending a step for the giant. As Kyler confidently strode away into the jagged rock pits, Phillip landed next and took off, passing the big blue hunter and taking cover in the rocks with his Casper. Calico came last, hitting the ground and regaining her feet instantly, rushing after Phillip and Kyler. Nathen let her get a two-stride head start before standing, doing a sweeping three-sixty turn, then followed his team into the cover of the rocks and crevasses. Nathen turned and shot his pilots a ‘thumbs up.’ Leonard thumbed back, and then the slicing, silent blades of the dropship banked off with Hybrid One and quickly disappeared into the distance.
Nathen watched as the helicopter/shuttle hybrid left him and his commandos behind, flying off to wait for the summons for extraction. Cravac's moon looked exactly how Nathen had expected. Rocky, mostly barren, with the scourged, abused look of a planet whose surface underwent changes and stages far too fast for most life to adapt. He saw writhing, pulpy plants here and there like fungus or algae; vegetation that was active every day cycle and hibernated during the night, polyps retreating into the reef-like terrain. It was early in the day cycle, and the looming presence of Cravac, the host planet, still dominated the far horizon. Nathen touched his throat and tested the oxygen levels on his oxy-collar, which still came back positive. They had a good seven or eight hours ahead of them before the atmosphere started to deprive them. He knelt down behind a jagged outcropping and pointed his Coyote at the ground.
“All right, where are the rest?”
Before anyone had time to answer, there was a squish of boots on moss as Helen, in her purple armor, stepped into view.
“You called, Boss?”
Nathen looked around. “The others?”
Jonathan, Trent and Doc all appeared from different positions.
&nbs
p; “Accounted for,” replied Helen.
Nathen nodded. “I don’t think we were spotted, but there’s no point in taking chances. We move out in five. Daytana. Map.”
Phillip pulled a folded map out of his belt. “Just as you requested.”
Nathen quickly took the map from Phillip. “Fiend, Sharps, lookout duty. Keep an eye out for anything. And I mean anything.”
Jonathan climbed out of the rock den, as silent as they come, and Trent cradled his Greylance rifle in the crook of his arm with the muzzle resting on his other shoulder before heading off in the opposite direction. Nathen knelt down and unfolded the map on the gritty ground, pointing out their position.
“Okay. Judging by these probe photos, we shot in from this direction and are currently in this reef here.”
Nathen pressed a finger down on an area marked with a red circle. “This area is a hot zone. From what the Sledgefast says, there’s a skirmish here and here about every other hour, but I think we can avoid those areas easily enough.”
Nathen slid his finger sideways to an X mark. “This is where the Yew are holed up. It’s a hill that’s dished out at the top, like a crater. It’s reinforced on the inside and bunkered to provide a clear line of fire out without letting anything in. On top of that-”
Nathen flipped the map over to reveal an orbital chart from a considerably different angle. “Here's our long-range data from Haven. Sweeps indicate that every Yew ship in orbit passes directly over this crater. That tells me they're using the crater as one big satcom dish, which makes this crater the anchor point for total orbital dominance. The Yew lose this, they lose their advantage.” Nathen flipped the map back over and pointed out the crater again. “The area surrounding the crater has been bombed into flatlands for five acres around the base, and we can rest assured they'll have every approach from the South covered with tanks, artillery, and spotters for space-based weapons, so we’re looking at a very difficult entry. However...”
Nathen reached down and ran a finger along the blurry green line. “This is their supply line to their spaceport. It’s relatively undefended as it doesn't look like the War Hive has found a way to wrap around it yet. If we follow this Northeast, we can go undetected for about three miles, then come up from behind and above. This half of the hill is covered in some sort of foliage, but is likely to have some hidden sentries.”
Prime Alpha (Planetary Powers Book 1) Page 21