Hell's army officers

by Andrew Komarowski

  — Dear! I think they forgot about the fact that we are not enemies... — encountering the nearest soldier with a kick in oblique muscle of the abdomen, chuckled Williams. — Enough ceremony. Oh, by the way, there's still a couple of draw...

  Ho-Oh: they have a pain threshold... fourth blow finishing off the enemy fallen to the ground, gasped Harry. Something I don't like their mood...

  Thoughtfully looking at the screen, I nodded and jumped out of his room. Me jerked the rest.

  — Enough!!! — struggling I yelled as soon as he was near the scene of the massacre. I said "stop"!!!

  Alas, not a joke diverged Werewolves to stop is not going to? once already eight, they tried to break turned into a single body, a couple of Ford — Williams. And with every second more and more out of himself. And the door on both sides of "deuce" ran all the new comers to join the fight...

  Realizing that their words will not stop, I sighed, pulled out of the holster Kross and released a long burst over the heads of the brutal blood officers:

  — All. Registration over. If anyone has any desire to measure the size of each of the outstanding sites with available my guys counterparts — I to the gym. Or joint training in piloting — you will have the opportunity to try them on kink AND THERE. Today, the show is OVER. With the score eleven to zero in our favor. Bring your comrades up to the infirmary tomorrow some of them may require all the available health. Anyone have questions or claims can come up. Minus the second tier of the sixteenth block. Questions?

  — Fuck you... — butted someone from just running up to the place of battle the Werewolves, and at that moment triggered the alert system:

  — Battle alert! Battle alert! All pilots of the units to take their place according to the combat schedule.

  — To the ships! Williams! To change! Run!!! forgetting about combat, in General channel, I shouted...

  ...To reach their "Krechetov", it took us less than a minute. Another fifteen — to run pre-flight tests and put on spacesuits.

  — Tower! I Dem... Delta-one hundred and five! Requesting permission to take off!

  — Delta-one hundred and five! The rise is forbidden! — howled broadcast voice major Volovich. Don't you understand? In the system of four fighter Cyclops!!!

  — Gamma-six! Delta-seven! Delta-eight! Headed there now...

  — The rise... — Waiting until my iSkin "Gyrfalcon" will download the latest data received from the sensor system and long-range detection, and will allocate marks enemy ships, I took control of the machine Hasek, gave to the motors fifty percent power and threw the fighter into the night sky...

  — Ford! Waiting For Helen. Igor! With Krause will link the fight the two Cyclops in the quadrant six-thirteen-forty-three. To approach the machine Williams do not attack! Igor! From the start, try to take wolf control. If possible, try to break a few...

  — Perform...

  — Delta-one hundred and five! Ordered to return to the square two hundred and six!!! — heart-rending yelled the major In łowicz.

  — Tower! I am a Delta a hundred and five! Need to remove ALL ships with the trajectory of approach of the Cyclops! — I yelled in response and out of the atmosphere, rushed to intercept closest to me two of the enemy fighters. — Gamma-six, Delta-Delta seven and eight! Go back to the Key one!!!

  — Stop Amateur! — hysterically screamed major Volovich. — Gamma-six! Stop Cyclops!!!

  ...Gamma-six, the class destroyer "Sirocco" called "the Expendables", for a split second, sliding the field, reflections from the front hemisphere, has released the first four "Killer" long before entered the zone of assured destruction. The accompanying "Tornado" in a hurry were not sold on the prescribed textbooks on the tactics of distance and activated the jammers. Both fighter Cyclops moving in almost the forehead to the destroyer, overthrew speed and, without any pile deviating from the heavy torpedoes, the move went on the attack. Enveloping by fireworks "bogus" and flashes of missile launches, they raced to the destroyer of the SAC, as if trying to take it to the RAM.

  "Are very tightly..." I thought, and at that moment reaching the first Cyclops and blew the main engine and turning evolyutsionnyi, launched his car a hundred and eighty degrees, and his partner, an emergency braking, put in a protective field of "the Expendables" about six missiles. The second pilot reflexively reacted to the flash and gave up on generators power screen maximum POWER...

  — Idiot!!! — howled Orlov. — Behind you!!!

  — Later... — looking as that between the nozzle of the destroyer slowly blooms of bright scarlet flower of the explosion, I gritted my teeth...

  — Delta-seven! Delta-eight! I — Delta-one hundred and five! I order you to leave!!! — attempt to reason with the pilots of the Tornado, unfortunately, failed: the curse of the Cyclops on the entire system, the pilots exploded in a suicide attack on the closest fighter. And, trying to catch up too shifty for their car, set up the nozzles rocket second...

  A minute before entering the field of fire contact I let the car Hasek almost close to his. And pushing it to the protective field in the rear hemisphere, and its in the front, was in the cocoon of the two halves of the power screen. So against us accumulated a bunch, with which they burned the destroyer, Cyclops failed: slave and missiles, and heavy leading torpedo exploded, causing the "Merlin" is no harm. And almost immediately grabbed his tail. Noting that the pursuing car is easy to repeat all of its evolution, a fighter pilot took off the speed and tried to beat us in piloting — he threw the car from side to side, occasionally rotating it around its axis, using the generators of the flicker and firing at us from all airborne weapons. Following him closely, I tried to see the thief any regularity in committing maneuvers. And just in case have uploaded this challenge, the estimated unit tactical computer. As it turned out, the pattern was. And not one after each turn around its axis Cyclops was turned off protective field for launching missiles at equal intervals of time. Further, care in the rotation, he started after the "barrels",[19], and the time required for the output of its generator to the operating mode, for the eyes was enough to push him "killer Whale"...

  Further was a trick — after the beginning predictable evolutions, I took off the pylons from two anti-ship torpedoes, and dispersed them within its force field, opened. Simultaneously activating the generator flicker. And closing machine Hasek from the front hemisphere.

  Averting her from the explosion, razmetelevo fighter Cyclops, I for a few moments staring at a beautiful painting is included just before getting into the nozzles of the protective field of the ship of the enemy for a split second, kept the fire in the hemisphere of the security screen. Scarlet hemisphere looked like a huge spotlight, trying to cover the darkness of space...

  — Vic! One goes away!!! — The voice of Helen, and the common channel makeslate, forced to be distracted from the contemplation of this spectacle and to throw a glance at the tactical screen.

  The only remaining intact ship Cyclops, moving at maximum acceleration and closing the rear hemisphere of the protective field, tried to break away from the pursuing three "Gyrfalcons".

  "Four minutes before the departure of the Hyper..." — flashed in my head, and I releasing Hasek, turned on the afterburner.

  ...The estimated time distance aimed shot was one minute and twenty three seconds, but just in case went to the limit for himself and Irina mode. And diminished traction when the Cyclops appeared on the screen of the optical multiplier.

  Ha! He collapses!!! — immediately yelled Conti. All Hyper will not go away! Hurray!!!

  — First knock down, then rejoice... — teased his Williams — And then you just scream much...

  — What do I do if taxis Semenov, the wolf went to drink coffee and I only robotic cleaners aft of latrine?

  What the latrine? — stunned asked Helen. — We have no such!

  — So you and wolf no. — cheerful Ricky laughed and cried again, Vic! Hang in there, he attacks you!!!

  Oddly enough, but the Cyclops was ner
vous — cost Ellen to put behind him a couple of "Whales," how did he spring up launched eight missiles and just in case, closed the rear hemisphere of the protective screen, seeing that my car approaches it at an angle of sixty degrees!

  — Wow... — vsazhivaya his Board four ultra-fast "Piranha," I admired and connected to the channel of the Tower...

  What was going on there! Managers of the Tower, an orbital fortress and the pilots of most ships, more recently, zlatovcica under Key protection-one fought hysterically. Everyone was trying to shout to the Delta-hundred and five and congratulate him, that is me, third from the downed enemy ship. Major Volovich, quiet men fool from happening, then tried to clean up the air, then demanded the Delta a hundred and five to respond, then giggled hysterically.

  Slightly moving away from the fever of battle, I glanced at the tactical field... and growled:

  — Tower! I am a Delta a hundred and five! The relief ship, your mother's leg? Why rescue do the fighters?!

  Three minutes before takeoff... — stammering on every word, muttered the Manager. — I was banned...

  — What, on figs, three minutes?! — screamed Helen and first expanding "Merlin", rushed toward the wreckage of the destroyer, slowly drifting towards the Lagos-four.

  — Delta-one hundred and five! Delta-one. That rescue ship isn't needed. "The Expendables" living there. Go to the database guys...

  — No, you know what you've done? — rolling his eyes, tragic voice said Mac-Regor. — You and your men have violated our agreement, and now the only option soft settlement of the issues before us under threat. And now I need time to deal with the situation and make the right decision...

  "C-C-creep... trying to keep the face neutral expression, thought Ramon. And from this man affect the future of the Confederacy?"

  — Excuse me, Mr. Chairman. — General Kharitonov fell chest on the table and stared into the eyes of McGregor. — I do not quite understand, what reasons hinder you to keep my word? And this have I done for my people?

  The President of the Supreme Executive body of the Earth Confederation — General Assembly of the Subscribing Systems — clasped his hands, flapped his eyelashes and looked at him as if sitting in front of him three-year-old boy:

  — Mr. General! I venture to remind you that no more than three days ago, your mutants...

  — Modificati... did Kharitonov. — So, your modificati had the audacity to intervene in the operation of the Sixth fleet HQs. And without permission was shot down four fighter Cyclops, spit on the direct orders of Manager and acting commander system! You can imagine how this will end?

  — If not mine, then half of the Sixth fleet would be... trying not to get upset, slowly said Kharitonov. — You've seen the papers, taken from an orbiting fortress? A patrol of three, consisting of a destroyer and two fighters. one pair of Cyclops burned for some ten minutes!

  — What? The level of training of those poor pilots probably left much to be desired... — twisted the President. — Did you imagine Lagos? Probably some kind of terrible hole! Where there may be normal pilots?

  — Both fighters were ruled by the Werewolves. The elite aircrew HQs!

  Werewolves, Demons, Ghouls... — smiled McGregor. — Less pathos and the more training, the higher the survival rate...

  — In the confrontation with Cyclops ordinary people have no any chance... — she escaped from Rodriguez. — Physical ability...

  — Do not get smart, Professor... looked contemptuously at major McGregor. — I know your report and work with your colleagues... Nonsense! If your mutants are not got to where they are not requested, the valiant soldiers and officers of the Sixth fleet would be smashed four pathetic little ship of the Cyclops in the nines. And then we would not have appeared superfluous problems...

  — As far as I know, my modificati worked under the call sign of a separate company for the second fighter regiment of the Sixth fleet, that is their victory de jure victory of the Sixth fleet! I looked through the news feed — information about participation in this battle of the Demons nowhere to be found. All the media "praise the valiant Werewolf who defended the system of Lagos from the bloodthirsty invaders the enemy"... — verify with a commit, quoted from Kharitonov.

  — Yes, but we all know that it is not... sighed the Chairman. And we seem to have agreed that prior to the hearing on amendments to the law on deep interventions in the human genome your mutants will sit quieter water below the grass...

  — Do you think that they had to stay in the barracks? resented Rodriguez. — While Cyclops shot down those who were in their way???

  — Alas, this is war. But war is not without casualties. There is this concept of "unavoidable losses". Heard?

  Yeah... gritting teeth, and General look made Ramona to shut up. — Your position I realized I would Now like to hear the date on which you designate hearings on the question that interests us. As you know, we really need a Law allowing to use the Project with maximum efficiency. Because without it, to seek funding for a second phase and means for the development of new weapons systems is almost impossible...

  — Excuse me, gentlemen, but at the moment I can't do anything... — interrupted a speech in mid-sentence, McGregor threw a glance at his comm. Then suddenly paled, flustered and lowered her eyes a frame of the portable monitor.

  A few moments spent in the Chair in order to read the received file, Ramon sat on pins and needles: a negative response, which began to articulate McGregor, meant the beginning of another round of political games, intrigues and behind-the-scenes "consultations" that Rodriguez, Kharitonov won't be digested.

  — Excuse me, gentlemen... I got a message of the utmost importance... is disconnected from the virtual screen komma, bleated the Chairman. — In the last days was the appearance of the reconnaissance ships of the Cyclops in the eleven systems of the Confederation. Including systems of the metropolis! They can not sit still on the Edge?

  Hearing the panicked tone of voice McGregor, Rodriguez had trouble trying not to laugh: - just calmly talk about the "inevitable loss", feeling that the war could touch him, scared.

  — I warned you... — chuckled Kharitonov. Cyclops could not fail to react on our RAID system Pronin. And now we have to expect a full-scale war...

  Why would they jump so far from the same Lagos? — plaintively asked the President... And why are overreacting because of one measly transport?

  — What? barely noticeable wink Ramona sighed sadly Kharitonov. — In order to choose the most unprotected systems to lightning strike. It's elementary! What to do in Lagos? Already snooping and got the horns: my Demons burned all four of their ship. But in the metropolis nobody touched. So be sure to come back. I have no information, but I'm pretty sure that all those ships that appeared in these eleven systems, managed to escape...

  Yes. Managed... — swallowed the approaches to his throat, confirmed McGregor. — It's just a disaster! You imagine, they destroyed forty-three of our ships! Nine of them are civilians! What to do now?

  — To prepare for war... — frowned the General.

  — So. I think your mutants... or whatever you call them there? ...have to relocate to Old Earth... — muttered the President. — Let carry it... what's it called? ...And, remember — the "alert"! And protect the cradle of humanity from these horrible, inhuman villains!

  — Alas, still not work... sigh Kharitonov. — Don't these people understand that their work is able to bring that happy time when we with a clear conscience can look to the clear sky overhead, exactly knowing that from there on the heads of our children will not fall of the winged death?

  — Yes! And the names of those who will make a feasible contribution to the great Victory, will forever go down in the Annals of human History! — highlighting each word intonation, assented Ramon Kharitonov.

  — So, Thoughtfully looking somewhere through the General, McGregor touched the sensors, the virtual keyboard suddenly and strongly slammed his fist on the table. Tomorrow at nine in the morning
there will be a hearing on this long outdated and do not meet the contemporary needs of humanity law. All of the changes needed to create a Weapon of Retribution, will be made before lunch. So we believe that with the legalization of the Project problems anymore. So within the hour I want to see on my private server estimates the second phase of the Project: in the current situation to delay the creation of new soldiers is criminal! Anything else I missed?

  — Ships, Mr. Chairman. — "reminded" Rodriguez.

  — What you have not yet ordered? — frowned McGregor. — As far as I remember, I have required you to speed up the process of building! Tomorrow will report on the results of negotiations with "Central Speysship". If they balked, unable to refer to me...

  Is, Mr Chairman...

  — That's not all... Thoughtfully looking at the screen, holovideo, which flashed splash news mix, McGregor wiggled his fingers and assumed a very serious face: — gentlemen, I hope you understand that such a promising Project should not be allowed to go? You, soldiers and workers of science, alas, do not understand the mechanisms that push our civilization to a better future. Yes, of course, your work deserves respect, but in order that the results could bring real benefits to Mankind, you need something more. By the way, Mr. General! Do you think that Lagos is safe?

  — Of course! — distractedly mumbled Kharitonov, trying to figure out where it tends to McGregor. Cyclops already got the first number! Why do they need to go there?

  — Excellent! Then tomorrow after the hearings, we are flying to Lagos...

  Why? — escaped major Rodriguez.

  — Humanity must know its heroes! — Springing to his feet, the President waved his hand and a dazzling smile, his "audience" — We bring the most creative PR Old Earth, prepare a decent script and carry out the most lethal press conference in history! Every citizen of the Confederation learns of those who day and night, shedding blood for the sake of his bright Future...

  Prototype number one hundred and sixteen shot thirty-four looked the same as its predecessor — a man of medium height, rather slender built, with a blank, expressionless eyes. Touching forearms standing in front of it sample, Ben felt a tingling sensation in the fingertips Zombie just pulled out of the refrigerator and managed to activate the heated skin.