by Chris Hechtl
“Xeno virus!” Bast said, chasing the wraith down as it tried to pull out of the fragile civilian network and back into space. She sent out an alert to the other A.I. in the network and then dived in after it. Ensign Marshall immediately responded and reset his firewalls to high alert and then alerted the other ship A.I. to do the same.
Cornered in the civilian cybernetic systems the wraith tried to clone itself and go on the offensive, but it didn't have enough memory or processing power. Bast snarled as she held it at bay. Marshall got her directions and had the crew shut the infected computers down so they could be disinfected. She watched with hating eyes as the virus terminated itself to keep its code out of the Federation's cybersmith's hands.
<(>~^~<(>
Moira got to alpha firebase just as her computers went nuts. Bast hissed and then disappeared from her HUD. “Someone want to tell me what's going on?” she demanded.
“I don't know, ma'am, but all our coms are out.”
“Out?” she asked, turning to the rating.
He shrugged. “In use actually, ma'am. Something's sucking up a lot of bandwidth. It's going up to the fleet.”
“Damn it … what the hell is going on?”
“Something pinged us, ma'am. Then the computers went nuts. Some of them shut down,” Sergeant Snorkle reported, coming up behind her at a trot. She turned to him. “It looks like some sort of cyber-attack.”
“But it's directed upward? What's going on?”
“I wish I knew, ma'am.”
“Fine. Well, while we wait, why don't you show me the map and where we are on the objectives,” she said.
“It's in the computers, ma'am,” the stocky sergeant said. When she stared at him, he grunted. “But some of it is backed up on a tablet I think. If it's not in use, I've got a download in my implants, but it's old.”
“Dump it to me and then get started on telling me what's been happening.”
“Yes, ma'am. Alpha, Baker, and Charlie objectives have been achieved. We have containment on the city and surrounding area for two kilometers. We have some sniping going on in the city and in the outskirts, most of it seems like partisans or possible friendly fire.”
“Anyone firing on our troops is to be treated as an enemy combatant.”
“Yes, ma'am. That's in the ROE, and we're dealing with them. We've got one squad and a couple of drones keeping an eye out for them and stamping out anyone who does fire on our people. Two sniper teams have taken the tallest buildings in the city and are now offering fire support.”
“Gunny McClintock in one of them?” Moira asked as they walked into the HQ.
“No,” the sergeant replied, sounding curious. He looked about the room and blinked.
“Something wrong, Sergeant?”
“Just … surprised, ma'am. It's been cleaned, and it's been refurbished,” the sergeant said absently, touching a wall.
“Stay on task,” she ordered.
“Um, yes, ma'am. Um,” he appeared to getting a hold of himself, or more likely, accessing his memory of recent events. “Um, they have good coverage with the spotters, but there are some areas that they can't cover because of buildings. We'll need additional sniper teams there. So far they've reportedly taken out two enemy sniper teams and a couple of spotters.
“Hopefully they weren't local reporters,” Lieutenant Chaing said from the plotting table. He nodded to the Major. “Good to see you, ma'am. Congrats on the promotion,” he said.
“What do you mean hopefully? I like the idea of shooting reporters. They are almost as bad as the damn pirates,” Sergeant Snorkle replied.
“That'll be all, Sergeant. Thank you. You can return to your duties,” the Major replied mildly.
“Aye aye, ma'am,” he said, snapping to attention. He turned about smartly and left the room.
“He's cleaned up,” the lieutenant said. “And he's acting like a Marine. Good.”
“He was always a Marine. It's just been hard on them. Give them time to unwind and time to get counseling.”
“We have some time, but I don't know how much.”
“Okay. Anything on the computer issue?”
“No, ma'am. No idea what's going on,” the lieutenant replied with a scowl. “We're out of comm contact with the troops too. And they are out of touch with each other. Hopefully they've stopped to wait it out. Whatever it is.”
“Jamming has been ruled out? So …,” Moira shrugged and flicked her ears when he just shrugged helplessly at her. “I hate not knowing. But if I've learned anything over the centuries, it's patience. All things in time. So, while we're waiting, send runners. Hell, use semaphore if you have to.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“POWs?”
“All partisans, ma'am,” the lieutenant replied instantly. “We've run into some Horathians but they are few and far between. They are back stopping the partisans, using them as cover. Only one of the sniper teams was Horathian.”
“How could you tell?”
“Implants, ma'am.”
“Ah,” Moira replied. She nodded. “We still don't have a hard number on them, do we?” He shook his head. “So an estimate. And no hard numbers on casualties they've sustained during their landing and occupation either,” she said with a slight frown. Again he shook his head. “We need more intel.”
“There are a pair of spooks here, ma'am. One has been on the ground for a while but isn't much for talking. The other just landed a short time ago after going topside for a debrief.”
“Find them. I want a debrief. They should have made themselves available a long time ago.”
“Yes, ma'am. Lieutenant Locke is in Charlie base. Arkangel is off site now, ma'am.”
“He's in the field?” Moira asked, clearly surprised.
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Huh.”
<(>~^~<(>
Jethro missed the Major's landing, but he had other more important things on his mind. He was on the Echelon list of objectives. Now that the enemy had gotten smart and shut down and moved out of their known hides, the squads sweeping the city and surrounding area had to go door to door.
He was on his second day and third squad. He had mixed squads which sucked. He didn't know any of them well and none of them were what he would call properly trained. The recruits that had come in from Kathy's World were okay, and the proper Marines the best, but the Marines were leading squads or double squads so they were few and far between.
There were a lot of buildings. Dozens of them, hundreds in his sector alone. Every single one had to be checked for IEDs, swept from top to bottom and mapped thoroughly. He was also leaving sensors behind in strategic locations to keep an eye on the streets behind them.
So far the natives weren't happy, but they were getting out of his way. There had been a couple of friendly fire incidents, but the medics had moved in instantly to treat the wounded. Anyone who offered up resistance was shot on sight no matter whose side they were on.
Many of the blocky buildings were made of native fired red brick and stood three to four stories tall. They had brass or greenish copper pipes all over them. Some like the fire station and capital building were embellished with various sculptures. Near the center of the city there were some surviving skyscrapers from the time before the Xeno war, as well as a few new ones erected out of concrete and steel.
They had located every radio transmission in the city and every major town before the landing. They'd localized them to within meters. During the first day, they'd hit the nearest ones to the base, taking down General Busche's eyes and ears so she wouldn't be able to pass on word of their movements to others. But as they moved onward and outward as the first day had progressed into evening and then full night the task got harder. Some of the buildings were empty. Some of the forces stood and fought, others were smarter and had abandoned the buildings they had occupied. And of course the natives didn't know much. It reminded him of the old trio of apes, don't see nothing, don't hear nothing, and especially don'
t say nothing, even if it meant getting rid of them once and for all. It was disgusting.
So was the ghetto, the depressing area the Horathians and their supporters had walled off in one section of town. They had herded every alien and Neo into it, then either worked them to death or used them for target practice. There hadn't been many survivors in there and most were barely alive. It smelled so bad Neos had trouble going near it. Bodies were everywhere it seemed.
They had taken sniper fire twice, once a drone had counterfired and taken out the rooftop. The second time Marine snipers had counterfired from the center of the city and taken out the targets. He'd escorted Lieutenant Locke over to check out the bodies and gear then back to Charlie base.
He was working with Jake the dog, a yellow, floppy eared Neomutt who was a rarity, a native to the planet. He growled a lot and loved to kill. He was indiscriminant about his fire sometimes, getting into the heat of the moment to burn through ammo. He loved a good firefight, which was downright scary. Jethro knew if the enemy didn't kill the mutt he might have to put him down himself. The term rabies kept being brought up in scuttlebutt around the dog.
Jake had survived because he had a bloodhound nose that could sniff out trouble and incredible hearing. He had human teeth, which meant he had some human change in him. He also had a faded red heart with MOM tattooed on his left shoulder that he liked to show off.
Jake tended to rough up the natives to get information, which allowed Jethro to play good cop to his bad cop. The dog had no sympathy for the human natives; they hadn't done anything to protect his people or others from the enemy. Or not many had.
“Hang up,” Jethro said quietly, signaling.
“What's the holdup?” Jake demanded. “We've got to get in there!”
“My … implants are working on something,” Jethro replied. Bast was using up all of his bandwidth and processors so his implants had no processors to process his sensor feeds. He was down to his basic senses, just like Jake. “Back to basics,” he murmured, off balance. He'd spent years honing his ability to use his implants, losing them was disconcerting.
Jake sniffed the air, making his floppy jowls move as he twisted about. “Oh bloody hell with this. Just knock!” Jake growled as he kicked the door in and moved in.
“Frack!” Jethro snarled, following the dog into the dark room.
“Someone needs to put a leash on that mutt!” Misani said coming up behind them.
“Tell him that!” Jethro snarled as he covered his sector.
“I heard. Thing is, I don' bloody care, mate! Move your asses!”
<(>~^~<(>
“So we're sure it's dead?” Amadeus asked, looking at Marshall.
“As far as we can tell, sir, yes.” The ship A.I. shrugged. He was glad he had the new firewalls, but it had been a close thing. If the Xeno A.I. had gotten inside his network, he most likely would have been terminated to protect the crew.
“And was there another copy?”
“No, sir. Not that we are aware of. None active.”
“None active.”
“We don't have a lot to go off of, but apparently Bast sent me a brief, and I do mean brief, report. The A.I. stated that the wraith virus can copy it's components into thousands, possibly millions of files. It can then send an activation code to self-assemble from another source.”
“So this could be lingering in our network? In the hardware?”
“In everything. We're checking now. Commander Sprite as well as Lieutenants Ball, Wong, and Veber have identified common files that have been infested. We're working to screen them now.”
“And you didn't do that before?”
“They have been keeping the knowledge close, sir. The same for Bast apparently; they don't want to give up the slim advantages they have.”
“Great. Do we know how it got here?”
“Definitely not through the ansible, sir, not with the limited bandwidth. One or more of the ships or possibly someone with malware in their implants. It could be totally blind, sir; we just don't know. The virus itself is secreted throughout our hardware so it is assumed it got it's tendril of code into the replicators.”
“Frack. That's all we need. Keep me posted. Tell Bast good work.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“That damn wraith. That's all we need. And a copy?” Amadeus asked, shaking his furry head in disgust.
<(>~^~<(>
The A.I. Marshall transmitted the admiral's compliments to Bast. The A.I. received them with a sniff. They should be more aware of such things. But if she told them, would the Xeno adapt? Obviously the war wasn't over no matter what the organics said or thought. She would have to be careful.
“So we good?” Jethro asked as he finished clearing a building. “You got it?”
Bast nodded.
“It's dead?” the A.I. flicked her ears and then nodded once more, this time slowly. “And? I'm to take that it may be dead but there might be others?” he asked slowly. She nodded again.
“Lovely.”
“Gunny, we've got movement on the third floor near the back. Possible sniper nest or trap.”
“Or civilians. Coming,” Jethro said, checking his gear. He finished with a professional air, reloaded and then moved out.
<(>~^~<(>
Jethro shook his head in wonder; Jake had survived another building. “I think we're getting good at this,” the mutt said, taking out a cigar and lighting it. “Or I am. I'm not sure about the rest of you blokes,” he said.
“Funny,” Misani said, shaking his head. “I've got the next building; you're backup this time?” he asked already moving out.
“Gotcha,” Jethro said as his implant processors started to go from overclocked to 100 percent, then drop to normal. Bast's image on his HUD came back. “So it's over?”
“What's over? This is just beginning,” Jake said, taking out a canteen for a drink.”
“I was talking on my implants,” Jethro said absently.
“Shouldn't we be moving?” Jake asked.
“The idea is to leap frog, Jake. Get used to it,” a private said from behind them.
“Bite me.”
“Funny.”
Jethro flicked his ears but largely ignored the byplay as he stared at Bast. She nodded. “You got it?” She nodded again. “Good. Anything I should know?” She shook her head. “Great. Give me the four one one later then. Time to move out people,” Jethro said, waving a hand to get them moving once more.
“These people are pissed that we're waking them up,” Misani said over the net.
Jethro snorted as Bast sniffed in disdain. “Anyone who can sleep from us going door to door is either deaf or dumb.”
“Well, we're not making any friends by waking them up,” Misani said as he finished sweeping the main floor. “Main floor clear.”
“Good.”
“I'll take my squad into the basement. You want to leave half your squad on overwatch and take the rest on up with Jake to the second story?”
Jethro noticed the dog was gone again and swore viciously. “Damn it, Jake!” He shook his head and moved out, picking up the pace. “That damn dumb mutt is going to get us killed,” he muttered. Bast scowled.
Chapter 29
Sabu shook his head slightly, ever aware of the weight of his helmet and com gear enshrouding his skull. It sucked; he couldn't move his ears. He also had ear buds in them, which bothered him after a while. The helmet was jacked into his implants and also to an external communicator built into the base of the helmet. A battery pack was strapped to the small of his back and an antenna was built into the helmet.
All that added up to weight, which meant his neck felt strained near noon and he was tempted to take the damn thing off. But he'd been conditioned and drilled not to do so until they got back to the dubious safety of the firebase. Until then he just had to endure like the rest of the troops.
He had come to realize that going door to door to root out the enemy was much like the search
es back home but far more dangerous. Since his squad didn't have a Marine with implants in it, they had to rely on their training, senses, and wits to survive. Anytime they saw the locals taking cover or if it was just too quiet, they went on a higher sense of alert.
Sometimes it was the simplest things that saved them, like when Chavez heard the snick of a bolt or the time Chirup smelled gunpowder. Or the time he'd seen a wire twitch behind some barrels. Each of those times had been an ambush in the process of going off. The call to take cover had saved their asses. It had also alerted the snipers and drones on overwatch that something was afoot, something they had missed.
“I love this shit. Come on, let's get in there,” Chirup growled, anxious to get moving.
“Easy there,” the snow leopard cautioned, tossing a remote into the open window. “Let's do a looksee first.”
“Yeah, then you'll have all the fun and send me to the basement.”
“And who found that gear under the floor yesterday?” Chavez teased.
“Okay I did.”
“Yeah, you did. You're closer to the floor,” Chavez teased, flicking her ears at the otter.
“Is that a short joke?” Chirup demanded, pulling his Bowie and making a dirty look at her.
“Nope, just an observation of fact,” Chavez said cheerfully. “Want me to show you where you can stick that thing?”
“In your dreams chafing, Chavez,” Chirup growled.
“Put that thing away. Will you two can it? You're distracting me,” Sabu growled as he used his communicator to steer the remote. He had basic ident and access implants, so he couldn't see what someone could see easily nor control a drone or remote like it was an extension of his body. But he could use his hands to direct it, and if he couldn't see it ingrained in his vision he could see it just fine on the small projector in front of his eyes.
“Top floor … clear. We've got civilians under the bed,” he said, noting the wide eyed look of a young girl hiding under the bed. She reached out and flipped the ball away. He chuffed and directed it out the door and down the hall. “Moving on ….”