Eon Gate (The Eon Pentalogy Book 1)

by Mitchell T. Jacobs

  Kei finished his practice round and lowered his weapon.

  “Well, let's see how well you did,” Gilroy said. “Computer, magnify the target.”

  An image of the target appeared in front of them, filled with holes.

  “Hm, eight out of ten with one near-miss. Not too bad,” she commented.

  “I wanted ten out of ten,” he grimaced.

  “Well, you're not the unit's sniper, so it's fine.”

  “I'd still like to be able to hit my targets with almost every shot.”

  “Go through the pipeline. Handgun next.”

  He nodded and spoke a command. A moment later a handgun materialized in his palm. Another target appeared, this one at fifty yards.

  Gilroy took one of the plasma rifles off the table and ushered her to one side. “OK, let's start with the basics. This is a Mark 7 plasma assault rifle, abbreviated M7. It's capable of firing in both semiautomatic and fully automatic, with a range of about eight-hundred yards. It can fire further, but after that aiming becomes dicey. Know anything about how plasma weapons work?”

  Lauren thought for a moment. “They use energy and compressed gas to create plasma, correct?”

  “Right. A plasma rifle uses a gas cylinder and a battery to generate the projectile. This particular model has its own quirk. Normally we have to carry gas canisters with us, but the M7 has its own unique gas chamber. It has a sensor attached which determines the composition of the surrounding atmosphere. When you cock the weapon it draws gas from the surrounding atmosphere, and the sensor's computer calculates how to turn it into plasma.”

  “That sounds complicated.”

  “It is, and it's still a technology in limited use. From what I understand it was reverse-engineered from an Ulic weapon, though that might just be rumors. But it works, and it means we only have to take batteries with us.”

  “What if you're somewhere that has no atmosphere?”

  “Then we take different weapons with us. Laser rifles are deadly in those kind of environments. But they're easy to shoot. If you can handle a plasma rifle you can handle a laser rifle.”

  She stopped her lecture as Kei finished firing.

  “How'd you do?”

  “Twelve out of fifteen. Not too bad for a regular handgun.”

  Lauren took another look at the weapon. “Wait, is that a plasma weapon?”

  He shook his head. “Nope, shoots standard bullets propelled by gunpowder.”

  “Is there a particular reason you're using it?” she asked curiously. “Is it just a nostalgia thing?”

  “Nostalgia?” he said, a bemused look on his face.

  “Like some people like to collect old things. Or-”

  “Oh. That. No, that's not the reason.”

  “All of us carry conventional handguns,” Gilroy said.

  “I thought that plasma weapons were standard in every military. That seems so… ancient.”

  The other two laughed.

  “Never quite thought about it that way, but I guess,” Kei said with a smile. “But point taken. I'm walking around with a weapon that's been around for hundreds and hundreds of years.”

  Gilroy said, “You're thinking that we would have abandoned it because it's outdated, right?”

  “I guess you could put it that way.”

  “Hm. Computer, fit me with a standard loadout.”

  A moment later her outfit modified itself, complete with body armor, a helmet and webbing overtop.

  “Take a look at my kit. See anything that's out of place for this day and age?”

  Lauren searched for it, but nothing caught her eye.

  “I'm sorry, I'm not sure what I should be looking for.”

  Her trainer reached down and pulled something off of her belt. It took Lauren a moment to realize what she was looking at.

  It was a knife, a little less than a foot long and made of steel. She saw the keen edges that tapered down into a sharp tip.

  “Oh. A blade, huh?”

  “Yeah. We can cross galaxies and sail the stars, but we still use the same weapons we did when we were on Earth living in caves. The materials might be different, but the principles behind it are the same. It might be a situational weapon, but it still has its uses.”

  “What about the handguns?”

  “They still have their uses too. We use plasma weapons because the gas canisters and batteries are lighter than carrying bullets. But a bullet will still kill you just as quickly, and a conventional firearm is a lot less complicated than a plasma rifle.”

  “We use them for backup weapons,” Kei said. “When all else fails you can at least depend on this to work. It might not be the best, but it's better than nothing.”

  Gilroy nodded. “Enough of that, though. We don't want to overwhelm you. Let's get you started on this, shall we. Computer, target at one hundred yards.”

  She guided Lauren over to her station and positioned her at the right spot, then went over the basics of the weapon. Lauren listened intently, trying to absorb every bit of knowledge she could. If she wanted to go into the Central Expanse with this team then she needed to learn quickly, and she didn't have much time to accomplish the task.

  “Go slow. And remember the gun safety rules,” Gilroy learned. “The only thing worse than someone that can't shoot is someone who's likely to shoot you in the back on accident.”

  Lauren nodded and concentrated. Pull the charging handle. Bring the weapon stock up to her shoulder. Safety off. Finger on the trigger. Steady her aim. Squeeze the trigger smoothly.

  She exhaled and fired her first shot. Lauren felt the weapon kick back into her shoulder, and plasma bolt zipped downrange.

  But it missed the target.

  “You yanked on the trigger,” Kei said.

  Lauren couldn't keep the frustrated groan from escaping her lips.

  “Don't get discouraged. That was your first shot, and you're nervous,” Gilroy said. “Yanking on the trigger is very common with new recruits. I had my problems with it in basic training, but as long as you practice it should go away. Try again.”

  Lauren aimed and fired again.

  “Well, that one was closer,” Kei commented.

  “Try again.”

  She brought the rifle back up to her shoulder. This might end up being much harder than she thought.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “How's our trainee doing, Griz?” Mirko asked as he stepped into observation room.

  “See for yourself. Gilroy and Maeda have been doing most of her training, but everyone's rotated through. Except you.”

  “The little lady has kept me pretty busy.”

  Griz shrugged. “Granted, and you're in charge, but you're also one of the best trainers that we have. You have more experience than any of us.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I'm and old man. I get it.”

  “I'm not all that much younger than you,” Griz said with a smile. “So I'm not going to say anything more than that. But you're the most experienced soldier in the unit.”

  “Doesn't necessarily mean I'm the best teacher. And I think the others should take more of a hand in it anyhow. It gives them something else to do. We have our own concerns, especially since the little lady seems to be dead-set on carrying on this misadventure into the Central Expanse.”

  “Not eager to go there, I take it?”

  Mirko grunted. “I know what I signed up for. And I know she's not the type to go in without a plan or a specific goal in mind. But still, that place is dangerous enough on its own. And if Eon Path is going to be around to screw with us…”

  “Realistically, what are they going to be able to do?” Griz asked. “They have a lot of resources for a terrorist organization, true enough, but they're not a government or a mega-corporation. They'd need to bring something like a cruiser to give us trouble, and someone would have noticed if they had one by now.”

  “Still have their ground teams, or did you forget about all those troops they managed to throw at us on Caleth
?”

  “Calling them troops is being overly generous.”

  “Maybe, but enough of them firing enough weapons at once is still going to be a problem,” Mirko said. “And we don't know what other capabilities Eon Path might have. If they think this is valuable enough then we might have to deal with them, and that could mean trouble.”

  Griz looked up at the monitor. Mirko did too and watched Lauren receiving more instructions from Gilroy and Salim. She fired off a brace of shots.

  “Not too bad,” he commented. “I wouldn't stick her in the infantry anytime soon, but she's making decent progress for the amount of time she's put in.”

  “Yes. And she'd be doing better if you'd help with some of the training.”

  “I have more important things to do right now. Ones that involve planning and not getting us all killed. All that hazard pay doesn't mean anything if we're not alive to use it.”

  “I hear you. And I don't think tangling with Eon Path is going to end well. They seem to be like the type to hold grudges for a long time. And the type to make those grudges have painful consequences.”

  “Then don't get captured,” Mirko grinned.

  Griz laughed. “I'm a pathfinder. You think I'm scared of a few third-rate terrorists getting their hands on me? I'm just thinking they could be an annoying obstacle, that's all.”

  Mirko didn't doubt his courage or his instincts about the whole affair. He had served in Silvin's Marine Corps, most of his time spent in the pathfinders. The units landed first during any spaceborne invasion, securing the drop zones and guiding in the landing craft.

  “Annoying obstacle or not, it's still something that we need to account for,” Mirko said. “And who knows what they have up their sleeve. Who knows what we might end up running into on the other end.”

  “Yeah, I'd be more worried about the environment. Or all the military patrols out there. I know we have the credentials, but you never know when some commander is going to want to throw his weight around.”

  “What's that phrase? Speak softly and carry a big stick?” Mirko said. “Miss Skare is capable of talking her way out of a lot of situations. Being connected to Skare Interstellar gives her extra ammunition. And if she doesn't then we have the firepower to back up our threats.”

  “And cause a huge incident.”

  “You have to be alive to care about causing a huge incident, Griz. Given the choice I'll go with that. But the military patrols aren't going to be our real problem. That's going to be Eon Path, because I have a feeling they're not going to give up. And after the last two attempts they're probably going to send something nastier. A whole lot nastier.”

  “We should have blasted the rest of them.”

  “Who, the ones on the corvettes? We don't even know if there's any survivors. And you're getting rather bloodthirsty.”

  Griz scratched his chin. “It's just a feeling I have. They seem to have a way of getting information through their network, and I'm not sure that prison is enough to keep them silent.”

  “Getting pretty paranoid, aren't you?”

  “Come on, you worked in covert operations. You know as well as I do there's ways to get around supposedly secure barriers.”

  Mirko remembered them very well. His years in the Eizen Naval Commandos had taught him all sorts of tricks, and made it very clear that, while difficult, many so-called impossible missions were very feasible…

  “So, assuming that you're correct and they're able to get the information out, what then? What are you so concerned about? The fact that they know the Starlight has heavy shielding and armament?”

  “That's not something we want to just give away, especially when we have the element of surprise.”

  Mirko nodded, but he still disagreed with Griz's assessment. The chances of the enemy getting the information out was very slim. First there had to be survivors, they had to be conscious, and they had to be observant enough to mark the differences between the perception of the Starlight and the reality. Even if they had in the moment, wounds, time spent drifting and the stress of imprisonment might have made them forget.

  “Even if they do get the information out it's not that important. They still don't know our full capabilities. We have the mass drivers and the missile banks, which are our real source of power. And the drones.”

  “I like having the element of surprise.”

  “So do I, but it's not going to be happening if we're out in the Central Expanse. There's too many factions and pirates out there, so who's crazy enough to take a yacht out there? Especially a big, fat, cruise ship-type one like a Voyage-class? Either we're completely stupid, or we're hiding something deadly. It's a simple logical deduction.”

  “You've sure put a lot of thought into this,” Griz said.

  Mirko looked back up at the screen and the training simulation. Lauren continued to fire off rounds, this time on the full-auto setting. She sprayed wildly for a few seconds, but managed to steady her aim and improve her grouping on the next few bursts. Nothing unusual for a novice, but Mirko remained unsure whether that would cut it. If they were boarded and forced to fight…

  “I've put a lot of thought into this,” he agreed. “I've put a ton of thought into this, because now we might have to guard two of them instead of one. And eight of us might not be enough.”

  “Then draw a bigger team. We have the space to take more aboard. We can fit an entire platoon and supply them if needed.”

  Mirko exhaled. “You know as well as I do that she doesn't like to pull from the rest of the private military company. They don't meet her standards.”

  “Good soldiers are better than having a few elite ones that might end up getting overwhelmed.”

  “I know that.”

  “Then do something about it. You're the head of the security team, and you don't just answer to her. You can overrule her, you do remember that? When it comes to her safety you can go over her head.”

  Mirko nodded. “Leon Skare would listen to me and take my suggestions, I know that much. But she wouldn't appreciate it, and I have to work with her.”

  “Sometimes it's better to go against someone's wishes for their own good, especially if you know it's the right decision.”

  “That's the problem. I'm not sure if it's the right decision or not. She thinks that we have enough drones and androids to make up for our numbers.”

  “And you don't, I take it?”

  “I'm not sure what to think about it. On one had she should be right, but on the other hand I have a hard time completely trusting them. No offense, IVIN.”

  “None taken,” the AI replied, “though you humans are always so superstitious over the littlest things.”

  “Superstitious?”

  “Of course. You say that you're concerned about trusting the fate of your life to a machine. But aren't you already doing that? You trust the different systems aboard this ship to work. You trust the wormhole gates to work and allow you to cover great distances in the blink of an eye. Shall I keep listing them?”

  Mirko shook his head. “No, no, I get it. But still, superstitious? That's what you're going to call it? That sounds so...”

  “What else would you like me to call it? You're acting irrationally in the face of all evidence to the contrary. That makes it superstitious.”

  “He's got you there,” Griz said with a smile.

  Mirko frowned. “How would you be able to tell if something is superstition or not? You're a machine?”

  “Blame whoever decided to put this morality chip inside of my programing, or whatever you want to call it,” IVIN replied. “I know very well what superstition is. I'm just not bound by it. Just like I know what your emotions are, but I'm not bound by them either.”

  The AI's voice remained monotone, and Mirko knew that IVIN didn't care much for human niceties either. He had referred to himself as a sociopath more than once, though one that was on their side. IVIN seemed content to go about his duties aboard the ship, occasionally t
easing the crew for his own amusement.

  But he couldn't exactly doubt his effectiveness in battle. IVIN had a massive amount of processing power, more than several military-grade AIs put together, and he was capable of thinking laterally as well. AIs were always constrained by the blocks put in place to prevent them from going rogue, but IVIN's were much more limited. The morality chip, as he called it, had been installed in his systems during a test in the labs of Skare Interstellar as a test to determine whether an AI could achieve self-control and work with humans.

  It had worked, albeit not in the way the scientists intended. IVIN knew about moral standards and limits, but it was an academic knowledge and not a conscience. That made him a sociopath, albeit a rather benign one.

  But the morality chip still affected the AI. It manifested a personality of sorts, and IVIN decided to define itself as a male. He understood emotions well enough to use sarcasm, and that had quickly become a favorite pastime of his, much to the chagrin of the scientists and researchers. One of them might have eventually put a hammer through his processing core if Nina hadn't taken an interest in him and brought him aboard the Starlight.

  Mirko couldn't doubt his effectiveness, or his loyalty to the rest of the crew. He wasn't malicious or dangerous, at least not to those on his own side, and he followed orders without issues, though he liked to snark about them. But if that was the extent of their issues then he'd take it. Their ability to deploy scores of airborne, spaceborne and terrestrial drones gave them a huge force multiplier. The automation aboard the ship allowed them to use their human personnel more efficiently as well.

  Maybe he was being superstitious. IVIN had been with them for almost a year and showed no signs of going rogue or causing problems, and his abilities had bailed them out of trouble more than once.

  “OK, point taken,” he said. “And if we're going to make a hard choice I'd say that keeping the team cohesive is much more important than sheer numbers, especially if IVIN can make up for them. It's going to be hard enough with another noncombatant with us.”