The Awakening: Book 1 of Warner's World

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The Awakening: Book 1 of Warner's World Page 4

by Dave O'Connor


  “Just so you are all clear: -our overall mission is to find out what the enemy are doing in this sector. If there is anyone here that can answer that it’s Manger. We need to make contact with him, remain undetected and extract like a ghost leaving no trace and no one behind. Any questions?”

  “Sir, how am I supposed to make contact with Manger when I don’t know what he looks like?” asked Sgt Sue Chalker.

  “Good question” responded Warner. “We will need to find a place where I and the rest of the team can eyeball the tavern unobserved. You will be fitted out with a remote sensor pack. Chief Sterkze will give you the low-down on using it. I will then be able to see what you see and hear what you hear. When Manger comes up on the screen I will signal you.”

  “It will then be up to you to make contact. Just mention that you have a mutual friend from Schillers Ridge who wants to see him. He’ll then believe you. I take it you’re bringing your civvies along?”

  “Packed and ready!” responded Chalker. There was no trace of excitement in her voice. She was cool as. Warner had never seen her overly stressed let alone panic. She was shaping up to be a first class candidate for special ops. Warner had spotted her talents soon after she joined the Hermes and had asked Pug to groom her for these roles.

  She was the “grey” operative - neither black nor white, neither stunning nor ugly, neither extraverted nor introverted. She had light brown nearly fawn coloured hair, long to the shoulder but often pinned up. She was of average height and build. In fact she was the complete average. As such she could blend in without being noticed.

  “Not too flashy I hope!” quipped Warner. A few chuckles erupted from the ranks around her.

  But Chalker took it in her stride and responded with a wry smile “No sir. You know me!” To whit even more mirth erupted from the ranks.

  Warner let it ride. “Any other questions?”

  In response to the silence, “then I’ll see you in the loading dock at 1430. Don’t be late. Dismissed.”

  Chalker was the last in line as the troops filed out. “Sgt Chalker can I have a word” said Warner. “How’s your leg?”

  “It’s fine. You don’t need to worry on my count. I won’t let you down. But thanks for asking.” She smiled and gave him an intense look into his eyes. Then she turned and jogged to catch up with the rest.

  Warner was taken aback with the intensity of Chalker’s look. It reminded him of how Amy had looked at him when they were courting. That was a long time ago and there would be no more of her looks to relish.

  Chapter 8. Hermes 1430, 21 April

  Warner entered the loading dock still trying to secure his helmet onto his suit. As he finally shifted it into the locked position he swivelled and cast his eye over Whiskey 1. She wasn’t elegant, streamlined or anything approaching nice to look at but she was solid, robust and hopefully would safely bring them all back. He patted her outside hull as he approached the open hatch and said his usual mantra saluting his meditation master, his Guru, before turning and closing the hatch.

  It wasn’t as though he was superstitious but he derived comfort in these little rituals. They helped focus the mind on something positive at a moment when a rational mind would otherwise be full of trepidations if not stressing out. Most of the troopers were used to this behaviour. Warner was sure that most thought him religious. But religions in general he abhorred. No he was spiritual, not religious. There was a difference.

  He couldn’t stand the “fixed in stone” nature of most religions. To him it was ludicrous that we should be bound by rules made thousands of years ago that were based on the customs of their day and which were no longer relevant. The trouble was in Warner’s view that they were not adaptable, not flexible especially on mores like birth control. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in fundamental truths. Far from it. It was just that from his perspective most of the religions were playing lip service to those and focusing too much attention on things which gave them power over others.

  He hadn’t always been anti-religious. His parents were devout followers. The smell of incense and candles pervaded his early youth. But he had foregone all of that by the time he was 17. For ten years he had eschewed all things religious. When Amy’s mother died he could barely attend the church service. He noted the depths of sorrow Amy descended to after that and how inconsolable she was. What good had been the Church then?

  But a year later Amy had found spirituality in the guise of meditation and yoga. Her life had been turned around and Dave had witnessed the positive effects it had on her.

  When her Guru was visiting their home city a morning reception was organised and Amy asked him to come along and help mind the kids while she assisted the organisers. He went along as requested and he met her Guru. She was a pleasant unassuming woman who smiled at him when he was introduced. He didn’t think anything special of it at the time.

  The reception finished and they returned home for lunch. An hour later Warner had felt very tired and said he would take a nap. Amy knew something unusual had happened as Dave never took naps in the middle of the day. He shut the door to their bedroom and lay down on the bed. It was a strange feeling, not so much fatigue but a really strong pull within.

  He decided instead to sit up on the bed and try to meditate like Amy had shown him. He hadn’t been able to do it before but he felt compelled to try now. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Immediately his inner focus went to this dark but peaceful place. He felt completely at ease there in the void.

  Next thing he knew, he was looking through a gun sight scanning the void for some distant target. His focus through the sight kept adjusting in short sharp movements. He could hear an almost mechanical sound as his focus adjusted.

  Then there in the distance he could see an object. It was darker than the void and coming closer. No, it was the sight zooming in. Yes, there it was and he knew in that instance that it was his own heart. The sight adjusted and zeroed in on the centre of his heart.

  Then there was tan almighty explosion, a real metal on metal sound like you would get when inside a heavily armoured battlewagon that had just been hit by canon fire. It was so powerful it threw his head back and then literally threw his whole body off the bed and he landed face down on the floor. He pushed himself back up and sat against the bed and exclaimed loudly “Wow…that’s shaktipat!”

  Amy had told him about shaktipat or spiritual awakening and how true gurus could bestow it. He had been very sceptical and had not given any credence to it. But there was no denying this amazing experience. It was as though all his defences had been blown away. His mind was crystal clear.

  He decided to sit back on the bed and meditate. This time he slipped straight into meditation. His mind’s eye was filled with wondrous visions and he felt totally blissed. Then he began seeing the faces of all the people he loved and who had loved him. He was overwhelmed by a tremendous gratitude. Tears rolled down so much that by the time he finished meditation an hour and a half later his shirt was drenched. But he felt cleansed, rejuvenated and incredibly light hearted.

  When he came back out Amy was preparing dinner. She turned as he told her what happened and her eyes lit up and her face beamed. She was so happy for him. Her wish had been granted.

  From that time on he became the disciple, the follower of his Guru. His life was never the same again. The joy and bliss of the next few years cemented his adherence. He imbibed the teachings of his new faith and became entrenched in the daily practice of meditation. Even on operations he meditated. Especially on operations he meditated.

  And he owed all this to Amy who knew better than he. But now his soul mate was dead. His children were dead and he had no one close left but the Guru. To Warner the Guru was more than just a physical person, it was that connection with the divine energy that manifested everywhere. And he had a real connection. It had borne many trials including the loss of his soul mate and their children. When he needed it most it shone forth the brightest.r />
  Warner found his seat in the warthog and looked around. He knew that he needed that grace now. Like the two wings of the bird, his efforts alone would not be enough. Grace was needed and grace was what he was invoking right now.

  The engines roared into life as he switched comms channels on his suit to those of the shuttle. “Parinya we’re all good to go.”

  The big bay doors opened and with a roar Cpl Parinya Puket, her slender frame harnessed into a seat designed for a bigger pilot, launched out into a dazzling day. Beta Phi was closer to its sun than was earth. The intensity of light was great. Parinya quickly adjuster her visor, took a bearing from her instruments and pointed the beast for the dark side of the moon ahead.

  There were a few looks around the cabin and a couple of comments but most were content to remain silent. They had all conducted assault entries before but not knowing what type of reception you were going to get was always confronting.

  They had been lucky about their arrival on the dark side of the moon. There had been no patrol vessels, nor any surveillance sats. So far it appeared they had the element of surprise. That was encouraging.

  If they could have seen back towards the Hermes they would have taken comfort from her large black silhouette with the rays of sunlight blasting past her sleek lines. The two retractable gun turrets, with their powerful pulse cannons, one on top and the other below the main superstructure were extended and open for business. Friends were alert and on guard.

  Parinya made a final check of the sensor systems. All OK. No detections. She activated passive cloaking. This would mask all electronic and magnetic emissions from their craft making it virtually undetectable. However, it would be still visible to the human eye. For that she needed to turn on active cloaking. However, unlike passive cloaking this would eat into their precious fuel reserves. If they turned it on now they would not have enough fuel for the return trip.

  Normally they would make a grazing approach entering above one of the poles and making a more gradual approach to the LZ. However, this would expose them for the longest period. So they were about to make a bullet run for a point 300 clicks north of Tindel on the far side of the rift valley. There they would bank sharply head south east hugging the outer edge of the rift and make their way to the LZ. It would be a hell of a ride.

  A bullet run placed incredible heat stress onto the forward edges of the craft. To help deflect and dissipate this heat Parinya activated the forward shields. This would drain their batteries severely restricting energy supply to other systems including their fire control. So, all in all, this was going to be a hairy ride with just a little stress.

  “Hang tight everyone. The big dipper is coming up” taunted Parinya through the intercom. A second later the engines hit overdrive and the shuttle accelerated out past the moon’s horizon. It was a clear day over the northern hemisphere. Hell, it was always a clear day here. Not exactly a desert planet but certainly no lush garden planet either. The colours were brown and red over most of the land mass that dominated the northern hemisphere. To the south the sunlight played across a blue grey ocean. Ice sheets dominated the northern reaches of the planet.

  As the shuttle hit the outer atmosphere there was a noticeable effect. Warner glanced around and noticed the bouncing shoulders as shudders swept through the craft. Riley and Bridgewater, the two gunners in the insertion team, were still exchanging war stories. They were a right pair. Brian Riley was a big man with a big gun and he was a real joker. Dakota Bridgewater was short and stocky. She knew she was the best gunner in the detachment and so did everyone else. She was very competitive, tended to be a little serious at times and Riley just loved baiting her. They were an item. Everyone else knew that too but they went through the pretence that there was nothing going on. They were a likeable couple and so everyone else humoured them.

  A sudden jolt signalled the transition into the lower atmosphere. By now the noise was deafening. It was pointless trying to use the intercom. A light flashed on Warner’s suit console on his left arm. This told him they were two minutes from their next leg. He turned his head to ensure everyone was bracing themselves for the turn. They were.

  Then it began. Parinya willed the craft into its right bank. They were now 15,000m above ground level and descending rapidly. The banking was designed to reduce speed as well as change direction. But the craft had absorbed an incredible amount of heat. The inner temperature was climbing but still within acceptable limits. Parinya didn’t want to contemplate how hot it was on the outside surface.

  There it was - the outer rift valley. She adjusted her trajectory and brought the craft down into a steeper descent. They had to get below the ridge line as soon as possible. The rift valley was deep by earth standards. The ridge was over five kilometres high in places. So there was plenty of room. No nap of the earth flying required. However she had to keep the craft in the shadow of the ridge to reduce the possibility of visual detection. So she edged closer to the ridge wall. It was now flashing past just over 100m away. She decelerated to under mach 1 so as to reduce the noise level.

  A glance at the map view indicated the next waypoint at just over 100 clicks. At their current speed she would reach that in just over ten minutes. For the first time since their descent she stole a quick glance back at her charges. She caught Warner’s eye and gave him a reassuring nod then returned her focus forward.

  Warner was sitting next to Sgt Emilio Shavez, the Bravo team leader. He was pushing back his dark hair even though it was closely cropped. Warner patted his knee and gave the thumbs up. Emilio leaned closer and raising his voice above the roar of the engines said “hell of a ride, hey Sir?”

  Warner nodded back with a smile, remembering a similar run in on a previous op when he was with Special Forces. By relative standards this wasn’t that bad. But bullet runs are always risky affairs and he didn’t want to take anything away from Emilio’s sense of satisfaction at having passed the ordeal. He leaned back toward Emilio. “We should be there in 20. Pass it on.”

  Fifteen minutes later Warner unbuckled and shuffled up behind the pilot’s seat. He wanted a closer look so he could assist with choosing the LZ. He didn’t want to go too close to the tailing mounds in case they were spotted. But he didn’t want to waste time foot slogging either.

  They were flying at 2,000m altitude. Parinya was already decelerating. She pointed to the waypoint on the map. Zoomed in and highlighted a spot on the reverse slope of a small rise. It was pretty open, but so was everything for over 200kms. At least it was masked from view from the tailing mounds to the south. Warner looked up through the warthog’s window trying to make it out even though it was over 20 clicks away.

  Parinya throttled back to just over 200 kph, leaned over and hit a button on the central console. This fired the retro rockets, albeit angled gently. She then decelerated further on the forward main thrusters allowing the retros to take up more of the load. They were slowing down dramatically now. Warner tapped the pilot’s shoulder. Gave her the thumbs up and shuffled back to his seat. He re-fixed his harness and turned around to the rest of the team with two fingers up.

  There was a lot of shuffling in the cabin as each member went through their last minute check of equipment, making sure all gear was secure and their weapon was in their grasp. At least they didn’t have to seal their helmets. Emilio was turning around now making sure his gunners were ready to make the initial dash out of the craft.

  Trooper Alain Favre hit the release on his turret. He was all focus now. He swept away his thin blond hair from his eyes and pulled down the goggles that were slaved to the gun’s sighting system. Now, what he looked at was where the guns would fire. His green eyes adjusted their focus. They looked down to his legs and he was thankful he was vertically challenged. It was a tight squeeze to fit his lean muscular frame into the housing.

  The powerful hydraulics forced the turret to rise. When the 30mm pulse cannon was clear of its recess in the top of the craft. He began checking the r
otation from left to right. All appeared good. They were ready.

  Chapter 9. East of Tindel 1630, 21 April

  Parinya pulled up the craft and began descending. They were less than 50m above the ground. This was their most vulnerable moment. Favre was doing a 360 degree scan. There were no alarms firing. The green light came on before they hit the ground. The hatch door opened automatically and like a well-oiled machine the team members began piling out.

  First in line was Dakota Bridgewater, a solid strong woman whose crew cut often gave the wrong impression about her sexual preferences. She and her quanto rapid fire pulse gun barely squeezed through the door. Despite her big biceps she was fit and fast. She was so quick the craft was still a few centre metres above the ground. She dashed 10 metres to the right and hit the ground bringing her quanto to bear along her gaze as she scanned the area southwards.

  Brian Riley with the other quanto was right behind her heading to the left. He hit the ground and scanned north. Emilio was next heading straight forward. As soon as he was down he was turning around ensuring the rest of the team were deploying to their allotted positions in the semi-circle arc. Warner was last out. He went to ground a metre away from Emilio. He raised his pulse gun and began a detailed scan of the area through his sniper sights.

  Two minutes passed before he was satisfied. He tapped Emilio on the shoulder, indicated the bearing southwards with his rifle and waved him forward. Cpl Dai Shu was already on her feet and stretching out. She had obviously been pre-assigned to lead scout.

  Dai was just under average height. She had her dark brown hair cut short but avoided the butch look. As a teenager her natural compassion and good humour has seen a smile almost perpetually on her face. Years of hard service had tempered that.

 

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