by Chris Hechtl
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The Cadre shields did indeed allow for frontal assaults when used in that manner; though with their limited numbers, the Cadre stuck to the Alpha frontal assault plan. Sufficient plasma or kinetic impact could overwhelm a shield over time they knew. The stress from a pounding would force a suit to recover slowly. It could also lead to damage to some of the components. The damage could be repaired with the suit's on-board A.I. and nanites, but they took time and resources, and the parts had to be off-line during that time period.
The heavy and standard Cadre suits used the shuffle technique as they moved. One would take the lead, take hits while dishing out return fire, and then when their shields dropped to half strength, they would tap out and fall back behind their partner in a well-oiled maneuver. Once behind their partner, they would reload, recharge while their partner took the hits, returned fire, and advanced. They would repeat the maneuver as often as necessary. To the Horathians, they seemed like a relentless juggernaut, demons that kept immense pressure on them as they moved forward.
Since Nia, Cocoa, and Jasper were in contact, they took the brunt of the enemy action. Eventually though, their shields couldn't recharge fully, so they were forced to take cover and hold their position while waiting for their shields to rebuild.
It was only a matter of time before they broke the enemy's back. They just had to outlast them while the RECON suits got around behind them and took tore them up from the rear.
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As the smoke slowly vented up the open doorway, the Horathians fired center mass down the corridor in an attempt to hit the cloaked suits. Jethro and the RECON team members stayed low on the ceiling, walls, in the corners, or on the floor to avoid the fire however. The smallest RECON suits had the most advantage; they could hug the walls tighter and were smaller targets.
All of the Neos handled the idea of being on all fours without a problem. Corporal Dave Phillips was a different story. Corporal Phillips stayed flat against the wall since he wasn't comfortable crawling or climbing. He was inexperienced with what he had to do and hadn't had time to get over that handicap. That was partially his undoing. The slit in his cloak at eye level was another.
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PFC Patton saw a sliver of movement in the dark corridor he was covering. Then some rocks moved. He heard the soft crunch of gravel as something moved in the corridor. He swung his fire at the wall to ricochet rounds around the rock corridor. He angled it like a fire hose, up and down in and out to fill the corridor with ricochets.
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Dave saw the rounds coming and raised his weapon to fire. However, the incoming rounds caught him in his backpack first, kicking him around and face first into the volley. His body danced like a marionette in the fire.
Cadre suits were tough, built to take a lot of fire. But at less than ten meters, the rounds were too close. They found a breach point between armor plates and entered his body to ricochet around inside the armor tearing him apart. He had one brief moment to realize he'd screwed up before his life ended.
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Osiris saw his host's vitals flatline and took his last actions. With the last bit of power, he raised the rifle to fire into the bastard who had killed his friend before he initiated the nanite self-destruct in the suit.
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“Son of a fracking bitch!” Roarack swore as he noted Dave go down and flatline about twenty meters ahead of him and around the corner. Osiris went offline as he activated the suit's nanite self-destruct. He appreciated the gesture; he was a bit too close for comfort and didn't want the suit's power plant to go boom on him. He snarled as he carefully crept around the corner and then laid down to get a good shot diagonal from the corner where the enemy was hiding behind. He took his rifle off his back, settled himself and took aim. Now all he had to do was wait.
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PFC Kermit Patton turned as a body slumped and fell in the corridor. He peeked around the corner and saw something dark decloak face down on the ground. He grinned at his victory.
“Hey! Hey over here! I got one!” he said, moving out into the open in his heady triumph. That was the last thing he said as Roarack's vengeful fire tore him apart.
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“Corporal Phillips is down. He's gone,” Bast reported. Jethro swore. He checked the status of the others. “Continue the engagement.”
“Roger.”
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“Trouble coming to Cocoa!” Bast barked as she noted telltales where they shouldn't be on either flank of the heavy weapon's suit.
“Tikaani …”
“I'm on it,” the wolf said as she charged forward.
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“Go! Now!” Captain Zhukov snarled as Yankee squad moved in to try to flank the forward suits and envelop them. They hit a wall in the form of a black bear in a suit, however. Cocoa realized she was in trouble when she started to take fire from two directions. Her shields engaged, but she couldn't return fire. She stepped back, trying to get clear of the enemy forces.
“Getting hot and heavy here!” she snarled.
“I'm in,” Tikaani said. She couldn't get past the bear, but she could lob grenades around the edges of the shields to the enemy. The grenades went off momentarily blinding the enemy and forcing them to stall their advance.
In that second of opportunity, the wolf traded places with the heavy weapons suit and then dropped a rocket-propelled grenade down the first hallway. She then leaned around the chewed-up corner to fire a second grenade down the other.
The first grenade was a fire and forget weapon designed by Ox to take down a suit. It had a tiny brain, but that brain was smart enough not to go for center mass where the bulk of the suit's armor was. It went for the hips and abdomen. The HEAT round used a shaped charge and the Munroe effect to breach the enemy's suit and tear it apart.
Each of the two suits that were hit in either direction flayed, arms wide and fell back to entangle its fellows behind it, again stalling their advance.
That additional delay allowed Cocoa to move forward and spread her arms and fire her plasma guns in opposite directions.
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Captain Zhukov saw Yankee squad get torn apart by the fire. “Fall back,” he ordered, staring dumbly at the losses. Two suits had taken apart … he did a fast head count. Six, now seven, now eight of his own with no losses. And they had one heavy suit in a pincer. Only two of Yankee squad had a heavy weapon, but they hadn't had a chance to use them. “Frack!” Mackie snarled impotently.
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Jethro heaved a sigh of relief when he realized Cocoa was out of danger. In fact, she'd stepped up and gotten the job done. As he watched Bast's sensor feeds, he noted the enemy was retreating. At least two of them had been singed by Cocoa's plasma fire.
“Reloading,” Cocoa said gruffly.
“Good work. Alpha team advance. Tikaani, stay with Cocoa. Uraj, get up there to support Roarack.”
A series of “roger that,” or “copy that,” came back to him. It was almost time for him to get into the fight too.
Chapter 65
As the engagement moved into the forty-five-minute mark, the Cadre begin to wear down on power and ammunition, but they were also wearing down the enemy's reserves as well. Jethro ordered the teams to scavenge for ammunition while also ordering the teams to swap out and the reserves to move up with their spare armor and equipment.
“I don't mean to jog your elbow Alpha One, but SITREP?” a familiar female voice asked.
“We're through their initial resistance, ma'am,” Jethro replied as Bast opened his side of the conversation. “Bast will upload you a data map of what we've seen and our logs in a moment,” he said.
Bast nodded silently. After a half-second he felt data suddenly take up a lot of his Wi-Fi bandwidth. “They are taking up the intersections and trying to get around to flank us. So far it's not working.”
“Understood. Reinforcements are inbound,” the co
lonel replied.
“Um, roger that, ma'am, but I suggest they keep clear. We don't know what sort of final booby-traps we might encounter. I'd rather not lose an entire corps if I can help it,” Jethro replied.
There was a long pause, then the colonel cleared her throat. “Roger that.”
“We would appreciate some extra batteries and munitions. I can't spare a runner.”
“What about the troops you've got in reserve?”
“I have a feeling the enemy has a back door somewhere. I want them ready.”
“Understood. Good luck.”
“Thank you, ma'am. Alpha One out,” Jethro said as Bast closed the channel for him. He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again. “Okay, where were we?”
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The Cadre wasn't the only ones running low on ammunition. PFC Simbaka Pooley had been laying down suppressive fire continuously once an enemy suit got to his area. He clicked through his last ammunition cartridge, nicking the suit's exposed right shoulder peeking around the corner but not doing any serious damage.
He checked his pockets and realized that was it; he was out of ammo. He swore and then laughed to himself. He stepped up into the full corridor. Smoke swirled around him. “I die a man,” he said, taking out his cane and taking up his favorite pose. “You cannot kill me! For I am already dead!” he belly laughed.
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Jethro checked the outside feeds and noted the first Marine fire team had arrived. “This is Alpha One to Winchesters. Secure the line of retreat. Stay close to the walls. Get to the first intersection and hold it until I tell you otherwise,” he ordered.
“Roger. What about resupply?”
“Keep it out of the line of fire. When they fire up these cave tunnels, the tunnels act like funnels and fill with flying rounds.”
“Ah, yeah, that's what I'd consider a bad thing,” Winchester 1 drawled.
“Agreed. We'll call you when we need a delivery,” Jethro said. “If I tell you to run, do it. Don't hesitate,” he warned.
“Run, sir?”
“Yes.”
“Can I ask why?” Winchester 1 asked, clearly puzzled.
“Because if they get desperate, they'll blow the roof or their fusion reactor.”
“Frack. Okay, how'd you know?”
“It's in their psychology. After all the crap they pulled, they know they are backed into a corner and are dead men walking. They will eventually want to take some of us with them,” Jethro said as he monitored the feeds. The probes were getting deeper, but many were still getting snuffed out.
“Damn. Good luck, sir. Winchester One out.”
“Alpha One out.”
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Corporal Lance Richards had been hanging back as he'd been instructed but when the others had run low on ammo, he'd cycled forward to take a position and lay suppressive fire down while they reloaded. He heard the enemy suit's clicks as he ran dry. He then heard the guy's mocking challenge.
He used an optic probe and peaked around the corner to see a guy in a suit done up like some sort of voodoo priest standing out in the open like an idiot. The guy had a top hat with a bird skull on the hat band front of it; the hat rakishly tipped to one side. He had a white skeleton painted on his armor but was wearing a black tuxedo jacket and was carrying a cane with silver tips. The guy was ballsy; he leaned against the cane as if he was posing.
“Are you for real?” Lance growled as he came around the corner. There were no other suits on his HUD. “Seriously?”
“I will take you with me,” the Horathian said. The guy moved the cane, spinning it in his hands before he gripped it in front of him. Lance could hear a faint click and then the cane turned into some sort of a glowing machete with what looked like a molecular edge.
“Right,” Lance drawled as he shook his head and shot the goon. When the guy dropped, he stepped around the body. “Alpha Four opposition cleared. One Tango down,” he reported as his massive hand slapped a relay on one wall, then another. He checked the intersections for more trouble but none were around. He added a second relay on another corner, then a couple of cameras to watch his back, then went hunting for more trouble.
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Dimitri snarled as he saw Pooley go down. The damn fool had just stood there; he hadn't retreated, hadn't tried to use his limited stock of grenades, nothing. Brave but stupid he thought as he shook his head. “Zevaya, Pooley's down. We're butt naked there,” he growled.
“Understood,” the lieutenant replied. He wasn't certain what she could do about it though.
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Given they were in caves, the RECON suits had to switched some of their long-range weapons out for melee weapons. Most had grenades, but grenades would not be as effective against other suits so they were held in reserve.
Most of the RECON team members had disdained half their load of grenades and their lasers for an extra-shield emitter gauntlet on their left arm and a force blade on their right. The two were an invention by Admiral Irons and Ox.
Which was nice but it meant that his arms were a little heavier than expected, Lobo thought. And he didn't have as much ammo as he'd would have liked to have. Of course that was normal in any prolonged engagement; you always worried about running out.
He'd kept to stealth right up until he'd gotten to what looked like an important intersection. According to Coyote, there were ODN cables leading to something, possibly the command and control behind the enemy forces holding that intersection. There were also water lines, which might lead to the base's power plant … or hell, to their showers.
Unfortunately, the smoke had given him away. The enemy had fired on him forcing him to drop to the deck and then back up and around a corner. He wasn't certain how to get past it; the trio were taking cover on either side of the intersection. They were smart enough to swat any probe he sent down there too.
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“We can't be here forever,” Private Rico Francis said with a shake of his head. He glanced at the corner fast, then laid his back against the wall. “I can't see him.
“We're out of smoke grenades,” Private Edinger said. “And my suit is still a bit fracked up,” he said. He checked his ammunition, then grimaced.
“I know, I'm low too,” Rico said with a shake of his head. He turned to the corporal. “Now what?”
The corporal inhaled and then exhaled heavily. So, it had come to this he thought as he settled himself. “I will draw him out. Be ready,” Corporal Jing Xu Ni said as he stepped into the center of the corridor. He drew his katana and his wakizashi. The katana was longer than the other blade, the wakizashi. He swung them a few times at his sides and then did a quick katra to warm up. Finally, he settled in one of his favorite stances, with his katana forward, the wakizashi held back and pointed down. As he settled his grip, the contacts in his hands connected with the swords, and they charged with power to glow slightly. “Do any of you dare face me as a true warrior?” he challenged as he settled himself in a classic fighting stance.
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Lobo saw the idiot swinging the swords and shook his unseen head in wonder at the other's bravado. As tempting as it was, he wasn't going to play fair, that wasn't what they were there for. Besides, he could see the would-be samurai had friends hiding on either side of the junction. It was a trap; one he wasn't willing to fall for.
He instead stepped back and fired his rifle.
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Jing saw the incoming fire and swung his blade to slice the round in half. It was an almost impossible thing to do for anyone who wasn't at his level in martial arts, and even harder to do with a two-handed sword one handed. Of course the fact that his katana were force blades that cut on the molecular level helped a great deal. So did the fact that he was wearing powered armor.
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Lobo saw the round get cut in half and didn't bother swearing. Instead, he ducked as the samurai's friends moved in to either side to fire around the guy.
The coyote was still cloaked, so he knew they'd lose him. So he dropped flat as they fired, then got to the left side and used the corner to crawl forward under their fire. When he was close enough, he came up, energizing his own sword as he rammed his rifle barrel into the nearest guy's abdomen and pulled the trigger. “Guess we do this the hard way,” he muttered as he stabbed the sword at the samurai.
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Jing saw a sudden blur coming his way and stepped to the side to block. He saw Edinger go down in his peripheral vision, but his entire focus was on the energy blade suddenly blazing within a meter of his nose. His own sword barely held it back.
“What the hell?” PFC Francis demanded on his off side.
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Lobo grimaced as the blades caught. Their servo gears ground together as they strained to overcome each other by strength and force of will. He saw the samurai's free blade move to engage him, but he too had a free hand. He let go of his rifle and rammed his claws into the samurai's arm pit then activated the energy shield there.
The shield wasn't designed as a cutting instrument, but the edge was molecular thin. It sliced up through the light armor, into the flesh, but stopped at the armor on the top. But that was enough to make that arm effectively useless. It was also a mortal wound.
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Jing felt something tear into his arm at his armpit. His arm went slack, and the enemy's blade came in. He pivoted and blocked it with his good arm as he twisted his suddenly inert and useless right arm aside. Blood dribbled out of his armor. He knew he was dying. For him the battle was lost. There remained two things to do, protect his comrades by killing the enemy … and dying a warrior's death.
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PFC Francis saw the Jing turn away and fired at the point between the armors. Something sparkled, then the cloak dropped. He grinned triumphantly but then the Neo moved in to slash through Jing's defense to cut his left wrist off, then blocked his second shot with the glowing shield. He tried to shoot around it, but the sword was too close. It moved in and lopped the barrel of his rifle off, then swung back and then came straight in to stab him in his abdomen, aiming upwards.