Mako (The Mako Saga: Book 1)

by Ian J. Malone

  Hamish was speechless as Noll continued.

  “The main barrel that you see is actually a housing module that consists of seven individual rotating barrels, all fueled by the AEC-87 power supply which is housed in the operator’s backpack, along with the munitions reserve, secondary power source, and the targeting computer which offers the user a number of visual options, including night vision and thermal, through the eyewear you see here.”

  “It’s a mini-gun,” Lee deduced aloud. “We’ve got something like that back home, but some folks shy away from usin’ ‘em because they’ve historically got a nasty reputation for jammin’ up or overheatin’. Plus, it’s all but impossible to carry enough ammo in the pack to sustain the weapon’s viability for more than a minute or so.”

  “Yes, I read about that when I was in your world,” said Noll. “But your version made use of conventional weapons tech, whereas the 212 utilizes railgun technology.”

  “And that does, what?” inquired Lee.

  “Rail guns use magnetic energy to discharge their rounds, as opposed to a powder and or a charge. This makes the firing process itself significantly more efficient, thereby eliminating the problems you just spoke of while also solving the payload problem because the projectiles themselves are so incredibly small.”

  “How small?” Mac asked.

  “Roughly the size of a pebble.”

  This drew an objection from Link. “Hold on… how exactly does a friggin’ pebble do that to a truck?” he said, pointing to the obliterated heap of scrap metal that, up until a few moments ago, had been a vehicle.

  Always a fan of a good demonstration, Noll picked up a pebble from the ground at his feet and hurled it at Link, striking him in the right temple.

  “Ouch!... Douchebag!!... sir!”

  “Now, Mr. Baxter, think about how that pebble would’ve felt had it hit you moving at Mach Two? Not only would it have gone straight through your skull, but it would’ve continued through damn near every wall of every building in its path before it even came close to running out of steam. Furthermore, multiply that sensation by 500 because in reality, that’s how many pebbles would have just shredded your pitiful little frame which, I might add, is far from armored.”

  Suddenly self-conscious, Link stepped aside and sucked in his gut.

  “I thought railguns were capable of firing shots up to Mach Five or Six?” Lee asked.

  “In the cases of the larger models with the adequate power supply, like the Praetorian’s main batteries, then yes, that’s true. However as you can see, the Harbinger is a significantly scaled down version of that same design, and even now, we still don’t have the portability issue solved to a point where the average-sized soldier can operate it without being burdened by its size and weight.”

  “Please, sir,” Hamish begged. “Pleeeeaaaasssseeee tell me I get to—”

  “No promises, Mr. Lunley,” Noll cut him off. “The Harbinger isn’t exactly part of your training as it pertains to this project, and we have a lot to do yet. If we have time later, then I’ll connect with the R&D guys and see what we can do. If not, they’re taking it up to their lab on the Praetorian for space testing when they’re done here, so maybe when we get back.”

  His blank stare still fixated on the three soldiers while they readied for another test fire, Hamish gazed in wonder at the Harbinger’s awesome spectacle and firepower as Lee laughed under his breath beside him. He’d never been much of a believer in “love at first sight.” However, given Lunley’s smitten expression, Lee wondered if maybe he’d been wrong all this time.

  ****

  During the next leg of phase two, the group was run through a series of drills and orientations with several of the Auran Infantry’s ground vehicles. These ranged from light-armored machines (trucks, cargo haulers, etc.) to heavier ones like the Sand Tiger Assault Vehicle, a fully armored troop and resource transporter that Danny had always likened to a Bradley on steroids. Sporting a wide, boxy frame, towering knobby tires, a fortress-like exterior, and a roof-mounted weapons turret, the Tiger was nothing short of a menacing force to behold, though in spite of its size, the vehicle was surprisingly fast and nimble, boasting a top, straightaway speed of 85 kph with a full load of cargo.

  While the driving portion of their training was undoubtedly one of the more entertaining up to that point, it was also the shortest, as all of them (particularly Link) performed well right out of the gate behind the wheel. By the end, however, the segment’s duration was made all the more short after a particularly irreverent joyriding incident on the vehicular course, involving Link, Hamish, a Sand Tiger, and a first-class exhibition of high-speed doughnuts—an incident that landed both of its primary offenders in the infirmary following a back-breakingly ferocious PT session with Noll.

  At the conclusion of equipment training, the time finally came for the group to begin learning how to work collectively as a team. These lessons came in the form of long, arduous runs of simulated drills, firefights, and tactical scenarios, all of which were conducted in a wide range of rural and urban settings. Designed to teach them commands, strategic thinking, verbal and non-verbal communications, and offensive and defensive formations, this particular segment of their training proved to be starkly different from their previous encounters in one critically significant way. Unlike the earlier portions of phase two which, for the most part, had been little more than target practice, now the targets fired back.

  This was made painfully clear during one of the early drills, whereby the group’s objective had been to infiltrate a bunker to rescue a kidnapped ambassador as part of a fictitious hostage scenario. Things couldn’t have gone smoother in the early going, though upon exiting the building, Link tripped the silent alarm, resulting in a sudden swarm of enemy resistance, who wasted no time pinning them down behind the north wall.

  “Alright, Brainiac, what’s the call?” Mac shouted to Lee over the booming racket of weapons fire and ricocheting rubber bullets around them.

  “The majority of the fire is comin’ from our two o’clock. If we can just—”

  “I’ve got this one, lads!” Hamish interrupted, clutching his A-90 and grinning from ear to ear.

  “Hamish, don’t!” Lee protested. “Wait just a—”

  In a swift, albeit highly ill-conceived move of complete overconfidence, the enormous Scot barreled around the corner—his weapon raised and ready to strike—in a gung-ho, guns-blazing powerhouse move, the bravado of which would’ve been befitting of warrior poets or William Wallace himself.

  It was met by a single shot.

  BLAMMMM!!!

  “HHHSSSSS... AHHHHHHHH,” the group cringed behind him.

  A long, tense pause ensued as Hamish stood motionless in front of the wall—his hand cupped over the massive, black and blue welt now pooling at the center of his forehead from the lone rubber bullet that had so abruptly ended his stupidly heroic charge.

  “WHAT KIND OF SHITE IS THAT, THEN?” he erupted, furious with himself as he stormed off through the explosion of laughter from every soldier, staffer, and med team member within earshot. Even the usually reserved Reiser found it hard not to giggle as the Scot stomped back to his post, muttering something about rubbish.

  The tactical segment of phase two also saw the introduction of MOS training into their curriculum, as each of them was paired off with individual instructors for one-on-one direction in their respective areas of expertise; Lee and Danny to command, Mac to comm and IT, Link to marksmanship, and Hamish to engineering. Still, while none of them would’ve elected to do anything else, MOS training also meant the return of an extensive after-hours study load, a notion that none of them were thrilled about.

  At the conclusion of phase two’s final week, the group was asked to put everything together (physical skills, mental knowledge, and tactical know-how) for a final, comprehensive test of their ground training before moving on to phase three and flight school. As had been the case before, their objective was to infi
ltrate a mock Alystierian compound, extract a kidnapped Auran diplomat, and return him safely to the Auran side of the line before Hamish demolished the building with explosives. Now working almost entirely free of M-suit assistance, the group executed Lee’s battle plan to perfection, in spite of heavy opposition from the enemy and thanks in large part to several well-placed shots from Link’s sniper nest, a first-class hack-job from Mac, and a blinding display of close-quarter combat from Danny, whose weapon had been disabled during their escape. In the end, the group scrambled across the line just in time to witness the destructive display of Hamish’s handiwork as the besieged bunker (a condemned storage building which had been scheduled for demo) vanished in a fiery mushroom of orange, red, and black.

  “Not too shabby for a pack of halfwits from another planet, huh, sir?” Mac said to Noll as the jubilation of handshakes, high-fives, and hugs among the group and their trainers continued around them.

  As usual, the sergeant major gave his customary smirk of indifference. “Your vitals took a little bit of a beating,” he said, eyeing the readout on Reiser’s tablet. “Had this been an actual firefight, each of you would be in the infirmary’s ICU right now. Still,” he paused, turning to her with a peculiar expression that almost resembled pride. “You’d have all made it home alive, and with your objective achieved, no less, so I’d say that qualifies as a successful run in my book.”

  “C = degree, baby!!!” Link shouted through a pair of high-fives from Danny and Hamish.

  ****

  With phase two of the Mimic project now behind them, the group boarded a shuttle back to the Praetorian to settle in for a much-needed 24 hours off before moving on to flight school. They were exhausted, and even in the cases of Lee and Mac—both of whom were chomping at the bit to get behind the stick of a fighter—none of them could deny just how much they needed the break, not to mention a full night’s sleep.

  As expected, everyone slept late the next day, though after a leisurely morning of breakfast, coffee, and exploring the ship, each of them inevitably found their way back to their respective training grounds to pass the time. Later that evening, having taken enough of a beating from Danny in the gym, Lee seized on an impromptu visit from Noll to skip out early and hit the showers. Venturing back to their quarters, he entered the room to find Mac seated alone on her bunk—her notebook computer resting lazily on her lap—typing a fresh entry into the journal she’d kept since childhood.

  Plainly dressed in a black tank top and navy-blue runner’s shorts—the silver dog tags she’d been issued from medical draped around her neck—she’d tucked her hair into a ponytail behind her shoulders; her olive-toned legs stretched out on the bed in front of her.

  “Hey you,” she smiled, looking up from her keyboard. “How was the workout?”

  Suddenly realizing he was staring, Lee averted his eyes. “Eh, not bad,” he recovered. “You know Danny. He’s a pretty ‘full speed ahead’ kinda guy when he’s really into something.”

  “I know, right?” said Mac, glancing back to the door. “Where’s he at, anyway?”

  “He stuck around the gym to do some sparring with Noll.”

  Mac shook her head. “Man, he’s getting fast… like, crazy fast!”

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” Lee muttered, clutching his ribs and scanning the room for the others. “Where did Link and Hamish take off to, anyway?”

  “Where do ya think?” Mac chuckled.

  “The range?”

  “You know it.”

  Taking a seat on the bunk across from her, Lee stripped off his sweat-soaked shirt and leaned over to remove his boots.

  “Ooouuuccchhhh!” Mac hissed, inspecting the collection of silver-dollar-sized bruises beneath his right shoulder blade. “What happened there?”

  “It’s nothin’ really,” he shrugged. “I took a few of those rubber rounds during our sprint across the line after the compound. Guess that armor only covers so much, huh?” he laughed, seeing her grimace. “So,” he shifted, “Flight school starts tomorrow. You ready?”

  “Um, I believe the question should be, are you ready?” Mac countered.

  Confused, Lee wrinkled his nose. “How do you mean?”

  “Don’t kid yourself, Lee,” she remarked, folding her legs and pivoting around to face him. “Everybody knows that this is your dance. Let’s be real here. We’ve all had our chance to shine up to now, except you. Link had his moment yesterday on the hill, then Hamish got to blow that hill to kingdom come, and Danny got to go all Chuck Norris on that poor cadet from Deck-7 who never even saw it coming. But everybody knows when it comes to the cockpit, that’s all you.” Confident her point had been made, Mac leaned back in her bunk and grinned. “That is, until I kick your butt outta the sky anyway.”

  Lee shot her a look. “Always the competitor.”

  “Three older brothers,” she reminded him. “Helllooooooo!!!”

  Laughing softly at her trademark sarcasm, Lee paused for a moment as she returned to her journal. Jokes aside, he loved her sense of humor—always had. Pair that with her competitive spirit, her tenacious sense of loyalty, and her intense drive to succeed at whatever she did in life, and it was no wonder he’d always found her personality so infectious.

  Perhaps on a related note, that might also explain why she’d never married. Mac had always been a hard woman to keep up with, and that intimidated a lot of guys.

  “So really,” she continued. “You ready for tomorrow?”

  Darting his eyes back to the wall, Lee scrambled to recollect his thoughts. “Oh… yeah. I mean, I think so. Probably.”

  Mac’s eyebrows furrowed. “Wow, way to inspire there, champ. Seriously… Carpe diem and crap.”

  “Whatever,” he grumbled, rising to his feet.

  “Relax, I’m over it,” Mac resigned, halting him by the wrist. “Seriously, sit down here and talk to me, alright? What’s on your mind?”

  He waved her off. “It’s no big deal, really.”

  “Lee Summerston!” she demanded. “We’ve known each other way too long for you to pull that brooding, lone-wolf garbage on me, understand? Now out with it!”

  Knowing full well that she had no intentions of dropping it, Lee rolled his eyes and resumed his spot on the bunk across from her.

  “I don’t know,” he sighed. “I guess I just don’t really know what to expect, and that kinda freaks me out a bit. I mean, I’m still wrappin’ my head around what we pulled off down on the planet yesterday, but the thought of actually climbin’ behind the stick—out in the vacuum of space no less?” He shuddered. “I guess I figured on being a little less anxious by now, ya know?”

  Mac reached over and took hold of his hand. “Lee, there’s not a doubt in my mind that you’re gonna rock the show out there tomorrow,” she assured him. “Don’t get me wrong, you might take a few bumps along the way while you find your bearings, just like the rest of us. But in the end, you’ll do fine.”

  Grateful, he squeezed her hand. “You sound pretty certain about that.”

  “Of course I am,” she laughed. “You didn’t know it at the time—none of us did—but this is what you trained for back home. Think about the stats you put up. You were untouchable, even by me, and if there’s anything you should be certain of by now, it’s that those things do translate here—video game or not. We’ve seen it time and time again, with Danny, with Link, or whoever, and starting tomorrow, we’re gonna see it again when you climb in that cockpit and show these boys how it’s done.” She lifted his chin with her finger to meet his eyes. “Because trust me on this, Lee… you are that good. Not could be, or gonna be… you are that good.”

  Lee held her gaze for a moment, saying nothing. “Thanks,” he murmured. “Really, I mean it. Thanks.”

  “Anytime,” she grinned, dropping her hand back into her lap. “Besides, it’s not like I don’t have my ulterior motives here, ya know.”

  Lee’s expression turned cautious. “How do you mean?”

&n
bsp; “Well, the way I see it, the higher the pedestal I can put you on, the more fun it’ll be when I knock your ass off it,” she snickered. “Second-best pilot in the squad… shaaaa!”

  “Nice,” he smirked, grabbing a towel and starting for the shower. “Seriously, there was like… a moment… then miraculously, for some strange reason, it was gone. Go figure.”

  Proud of herself, Mac offered her famous “MUAAHA HA!!!” cackle and returned to her journal.

  Chapter 20: Identity Crisis

  Sufficiently spent from his session with Noll, Danny poured the last remaining drops of his water bottle over his head to cool off before heading out. His tank top already soaked with sweat, he wasn’t worried about appearances, and wiping himself off with a gym towel, he tossed it into a nearby laundry basket on his way to the door.

  Waiting outside for the lift to open (all the while dreaming of the shower that awaited him back in his room), he was caught by surprise when the doors finally opened to reveal Reiser and Reynolds inside, deeply engrossed in some uber-sciencey debate that he himself couldn’t have understood, even if he wanted to.

  “I blame it all on the quadratic formula!” Danny joked, reaching back to his high school algebra days for the one remotely complex math term he could recall.

  Reynolds wasn’t impressed. “Danny,” she chirped, her blue eyes narrowing as she exited the lift en route to the gym’s indoor track.

  “Sorry, Princess, but not all of us do math humor, ya know!” he called after her.

  Ignoring him, she plugged in her earphones and jogged off.

  “Good grief,” Danny groaned alongside Reiser in the hall.