“We are no good up here,” Jack said. “The fight is down there.” Jack tried to focus his fire on the most immediate threat to the squad. The Chits came on in a mass, the writhing tentacles of one individual indiscernible from those of another.
“We can’t go down there,” Osho said. “It’s hopeless.”
Jack noticed Osho had stopped firing. “Keep firing. On your feet. We’re moving in.”
Jack pulled Osho to her feet and started down the slope toward the square of Marines. Their fire was just about holding back the flood of Chitins. “Sam,” Jack said into the suit comm as he scurried down through the loose rocks of the slope. “Call in supporting fire.”
“It’s only us here,” Torent said.
Jack thought he detected an element of disillusionment in Torent’s voice. The squad leader was holding off the assault, just, but he was close to giving up.
“We don’t know what the simulation has to offer. Call the fleet and ask for support.”
“They are nearly on us. I don’t think we can hold back anymore. Stupid game.”
Jack noticed he was running alone. He glanced back and saw Osho sitting in the loose rocks, her rifle at her side. She was throwing small rocks in a childish, absentminded manner.
“This is Sixth Squad,” Jack called over his comms. “Request fire support from any available units.”
“This is orbital support,” the voice came crackling over his comms. “Awaiting co-ordinates for orbital barrage.”
Jack watched as the Chit soldiers crashed into the Marines. The ground in front of Jack came alive and a Chit erupted through the loose, black ground. A tentacle wrapped around his neck and another went ridged and blade-like. The blade was thrust swiftly forward, slicing through suit and flesh and bone. Jack felt a cold shiver down his spine and then the simulation flickered off.
Finch paced in front of the squad, shouting his displeasure.
“You pathetic bunch of ass berries. The Chits in that sim weren’t even armed. How are you going to stand against plasma spear?” Finch stopped in front of Torent. “How are you going to fight them if you stand in a cowering little group and wait to get slaughtered?” Finch took another step. “How are you going to fight them if you can’t work as a team?” He stopped in front of Jack and shouted in Jack’s face. “How is the squad going to win if cowards like you go and hide on the nearest hill?”
Jack couldn’t work out if Finch was shouting at the squad to toughen them up for what would be a difficult mission, or if Finch didn’t understand what Torent had been doing, and what he had been doing keeping watch on that hill. Jack had understood Torent’s plan. The tactics Torent had used against the Chit hoard had been sound. There was no point running at that stage of the battle. The hoard was faster and more maneuverable than 6th squad. If they had run, they would have been slaughtered. Standing together was the best way to face the onslaught. And having Jack on a hill to provide surveillance was also sound.
The more Jack thought it over the more he was starting to think that Finch was not just an arrogant fool but also a poor leader and a poor motivator. Jack knew Finch didn’t want to go down to the moon with the squad; he’d tried to worm his way out of the job. He was only pissed at 6th squad because he feared for his life and 6th squad would have to fight to the death to keep his sorry ass alive.
“And who called in support?” Finch asked.
Jack raised his hand. Was Finch going to single him out for praise now and try and turn the squad against him?
“Is that how you respond to a fight, Forge? Run away and then call for someone else to fight for you?”
Jack guessed wrong. Finch was being an even bigger scroat. If one of his favorites had called the support, it might have been a different story. If it had been that krav ugly Terry then Finch might well have praised him.
“Answer me, Forge. You going to run from a fight?”
“Sir, no, sir,” Forge shouted.
“I don’t believe you Forge. And I can’t believe the captain is going to make me take a failed schoolboy down to that moon for this mission,” Finch growled. “We can make a difference on this mission. We can strike a blow for humanity. Smash a hole in the Chit fleet and send them scurrying back to their gas hole they call a world. But I can’t do it if you are going to run from a fight. You ready to try again?”
Jack shouted with everyone else. They were ready. They were ready for the real thing. These VR exercises were designed for new recruits and Marine training. This squad had been in the thick of the Chit army. They had already fought and died, and won. They’d beaten the Chits for real. It seemed somehow pointless to do it in VR.
“You better be ready, because we are going to do this again and again until the captain sends us down to that moon or until I think you look like a real squad of Marines. You get me?”
“We get you, sir,” the squad shouted, but Jack could only think of one thing and she was probably busy in the maintenance hangar. Jack hoped he would see her again before heading off on his mission. He’d seen enough Chits and enough of commander Finch. He hadn’t seen enough of Sarah Reyes.
7
Walking into the maintenance hangar, Jack felt like a stranger and like he was returning home. The only activity was at the far end, where Reyes was working on the immobilized Chitin soldier.
She jumped and yelled as Jack surprised her.
“I thought you’d been sent away with your squad,” she said, hand on her chest as it rose and fell rapidly.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Jack said, his feelings for Reyes rising.
“It’s this Chit,” Reyes said, turning back to the creature. “I’ve got a good handle on the controls.” Reyes demonstrated by moving the tentacles one at a time and then in combination. “I think I’ve got it now.” Then one tentacle suddenly coiled into a tight knot and two others thrashed about. “Krav it,” Reyes said. “I’ve nearly got it.” Another tentacle coiled up and then the fissure in the shell cracked open. “Krav it all,” Reyes said and powered down her control console. The tentacles fell limp and lifeless.
“That’s pretty impressive,” Jack said, looking at the Chitin.
“It will be when I can control it properly. It could be a chance to infiltrate the Chit forces. Finally stop them from killing us.”
Jack looked into the cavity that had recently been filled with purple slime.
“I cleaned out all that gunk,” Reyes said. “Not much of a job for someone with my skill set.”
Carefully reaching into his pocket, Jack found the small family watch. The gears of the delicate clockwork and the small hands were in constant danger of being damaged since Jack had destroyed the silver case during the Battle of Training Moon. He lay the small watch down in front of Reyes.
“Maybe this will give you a challenge,” he said.
Snatching up the watch, Reyes’s mouth fell wide open. “That’s amazing. Where did you find this?” She turned it over in her hands.
“It’s all that is left of my family,” Jack said. “It had a silver case once, but I had to melt it down.”
“Did you sell it?” Reyes ran her finger along the edge of the small white face.
“I bought something with it. It bought me airpower and victory at the Battle of Training Moon.”
Reyes handed the watch back to Jack. “Sounds like it’s your lucky charm. Better take it with you when you deploy with your squad.”
Jack closed Reyes’s hand around the watch and pressed it back to her. “Do me a favor. Make a case for it. Doesn’t have to be silver. Hull composite would be fine. Just keep the mechanism safe from damage.”
Looking again at the watch, this time with an eye for the work that would need to be done, Reyes nodded. She looked at Jack. “Why don’t you keep it until you get back? If you come back in one piece, we’ll fix it up with a case.”
“It needs a case more than I need a lucky charm,” Jack said. “And if I don’t make it back, you keep it. It�
�ll be good to know it’s with someone who can take good care of it.”
Reyes nodded. She threaded the watch over one of the fine antennae on the Chitin’s head. It slid through the mechanism down to the Chit’s smooth and shiny head. She turned and smiled at Jack. “It’ll be safe there, and I won’t lose it.” She placed her hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Good luck, Marine,” she said. “Make sure you take care of yourself. I’ll have the watch ready for you when you get back. Come and look me up. Okay?”
Jack gave Reyes a smart salute and turned on his heel. He marched to the door without a look back. He hoped he’d see Reyes again, but if he looked at her now, he might not be able to tear himself away. His squad was going on a mission and they needed every Marine. He didn’t like it, but they needed him. He was starting to feel like he belonged here on the Scorpio. He was starting to feel like he really was a Marine.
8
The squad stood in formation on the Marine deck, Jack taking his position on the right flank of the first row. They were all suited up in their meat suits, the helmet under the right arm. Their pulse rifles were slung over the left shoulder, various sidearms strapped to their hips and boots.
They stood in the 6th squad formation area marked out on the large Marine deck. The floor was color-coded for Adder, Boa, and Cobra companies, and within those areas were spaces for each of the twelve squads for each company. The areas for cobra squads seven through twelve had not been stood upon for some time. The Scorpio battalion was undermanned, just like every other department.
Commander Finch entered the Marine deck and paced over to 6th squad. He walked along the front rank.
“This mission is reconnaissance only,” Finch began. “So there will be no combat. Just as well.” Finch stopped in front of Jack. “I know some of you are not cut out for combat operations.” Finch walked on, his head held high and proud. “I’ll be leading you in the field. I expect order.” He turned at the end of the row and walked back. “I expect discipline.” He stopped in front of Jack again. “And you are all Marines, so I expect courage. Fail in any of these and I will be providing battlefield justice. Do you get me?”
“We get you, sir.”
“We will be setting down on the surface of Kratos. It is a brutal, desolate world. A detestable world. It is a world that wants to kill you. The pressure is so low that you might as well be in the vacuum of space. Exposure to that low-pressure environment will cause your blood to boil. The temperature is low enough to render you unconsciousness with hypothermia in moments. You will freeze even as your blood boils. If you survive long enough and manage to take a breath of that thin toxic atmosphere, the air will burn your lungs out of your chest at the first choking gasp. But you won’t see any of it because the radiation from Penthus will burn the skin from your body and burn out your delicate little eyes. You will be frozen, boiled, poisoned, and radiated to death all in a short enough time that no one will be able to save you, but a long enough time that you will be able to feel every agonizing effect.”
Finch marched back and forth, his voice echoing around the deck.
“This is why the squad has been issued with Marine Extreme Environment Tactical suits. This is your first mission using a meat suit. You will seal the suit once we board the landing craft and you won’t crack that seal until we are back aboard the Scorpio. Do you get me?”
“We get you, sir.”
“Move out,” Finch shouted.
Torent led the squad at a jogging pace. The squad ran from the Marine deck through the access to the Marine flight deck, an area of the Scorpio where the Marine landing craft was launched. The landing craft filled the small flight deck. The ramp was down and pointed toward the Marine deck access. Torent lead the squad up the ramp and into the hold.
The landing craft hold had an alcove for each member of cobra company. It seemed empty with only 6th squad taking up space. Jack stood in the first available alcove, the straps deployed automatically holding him in place. Torent stood in the next alcove.
“Helmets on,” Finch said, walking along the narrow gangway between the rows of alcoves.
Turning to Torent for a final word before he pulled on the helmet, Jack saw along the gangway to the open cockpit of the landing craft. He saw the pilot in the right seat prepping the craft for departure. And there in the co-pilot seat was a familiar face.
“Sam, have you seen who it is?” Jack asked.
Torent turned and looked to the cockpit. “Well, I’ll be kraved.”
“Bill Harts. How the krav did he get in the cockpit?”
“Are you having trouble hearing me, Marine? I said helmets on,” Finch shouted into Jack’s face.
Jack took one last look toward the cockpit, watching Bill Harts prepping the craft with the pilot. Jack knew he would have made an excellent pilot. His academics in engineering and his experience with machines would have made him a better choice. Being sent to maintenance had been an insult, but at least he’d met Reyes.
He pulled the helmet over his head. The helmet connected with the suit and Jack heard the seal form.
The visor view through the helmet was overlaid with enhancement data. Jack felt the cold fibers slither through the back of his skull at the top of his neck. Jack cried out as they drilled into his brain stem. Suddenly, Jack could access the suit’s tactical functions with the power of thought.
He turned and looked at Torent. The suit’s helmet was an opaque dark gray with darker lines across it. The visual overlay showed a name tag over Torent’s left shoulder. Squad Leader Torent.
“You look better with that helmet on,” Torent said.
“I would tell you to go krav yourself through an airlock, but I’ve got too much respect for your rank,” Jack replied.
“Say good-bye to the Scorpio, Marines,” Finch said as the landing craft lifted off the flight deck. Through the cockpit view screen up ahead, Jack saw the flight deck doors open to reveal the small pink moon of Kratos set in the vast black of outer space.
9
The last time Jack had set foot on solid, rocky ground was at the Battle of Training Moon. The Scorpio was solid enough, but a moon under his feet would feel good. Through the view screen, Jack watched Kratos grow larger as the landing craft raced toward it. The moon was pink with white wisps of acidic gas clouds drifting over the surface. From a distance it looked serene, welcoming, friendly even. Jack realized that the reality on the ground was going to be quite different; it was the only reason the hard-pressed Scorpio battalion would be authorized to use the meat suits.
The cockpit was more interesting than the moon for Jack. He watched the pilot operating the systems and the co-pilot Harts assisting. Harts reached out and flicked a switch. The pilot slapped Harts’s hand away from the instrument panel and returned the switch to its original position. The pilot pointed at another switch on the panel. Harts flicked that switch instead.
Jack wished he could hear the conversation between the two. Jack was sure he would hear Harts getting a grilling. He had clearly flicked the wrong switch and was being given a loud remedial lesson in landing craft operation.
The moon was huge now, filling the cockpit’s view screen. Jack guessed the pilot would soon have to slow the landing craft for orbit before plotting a landing trajectory. The pilot was jabbing a finger at the control panel. Harts was working the instruments as the pilot directed.
Watching the pilot’s and Harts’s every move, Jack guessed they were preparing for an orbital entry burn. Harts reached uncertainly for a lever. Jack thought it looked like the life support systems, not maneuvering thrusters. Again, the pilot slapped Harts’s hand away from the console as he reached for a control lever.
Jack watched as the pilot slapped Harts around the head. He jabbed his finger at Harts and was clearly telling Harts exactly what he thought of his piloting skills.
The gravity from the moon began to build on Jack’s body, and he felt himself drawn toward the pink moon growing ever larger in the view screen. A m
essage from the pilot came over his suits’ intercoms.
“Cancelling orbital transition to landing. Proceeding direct to landing trajectory. The weather on our approach vector is chaotic so expect a bumpy ride. Putting you down right on the mark. Hold tight.”
The landing craft slammed into the thin atmosphere. Jack was thrown back against his alcove, the straps straining at the sudden increase in weight. Then the craft was thrown sideways before being thrown back to the other side.
“Activate the grav break.”
The pilot had either left his communicator on or had inadvertently switched it back on due to the sudden turbulence. Jack looked nervously at Harts, who was working slowly and clumsily.
“No, not that. Do you want to kill us all? That panel, there. The third switch left, the one marked Field.”
White thin clouds flashed by the view screen.
“Activate the grav break.”
The pilot was a frenzy of activity operating the landing craft and instructing his inadequate co-pilot. Landing was the most challenging part of any flight. The hammerings from the turbulence grew in strength and frequency. Jack could barely focus on the pilot and his work.
“De-polarize the hull. Can’t you even do that?”
The jagged bolts of lightning came up from the ground and struck the front of the landing craft. The blue lines of force crackled over the view screen. Jack had never seen lightning travel upward. Every planet in the system had its own strange twist on nature, but the reverse lightning was unexpected.
Jack Forge, Fleet Marine Boxed Set (Books 1 - 9) Page 11