by Ben Winston
“I was serious,” she said, pulling her knife out. “Marines are not issued a sense of humor until officer training, Sir.”
Seeing that I was undressing as quickly as I could, she replaced her knife, and addressed both of us. “Gentlemen, once fitted to you, this armor is yours and yours alone. No one else will be able to wear it. We don’t have time to teach you all the systems of the armor today, so you will be learning on the fly. Once this emergency has passed, we would be happy to teach you how to use it, but until then, you will be guided through its use by one of the Marines assigned to you. This suit of armor is the latest in alliance Marine formal wear. You will not remove it until told to do so. You will not remove it to eat, you will not remove it to sleep, you will not remove it to go to the head! You will not remove it until told to do so! Am I clear?”
Both Ced and I replied affirmative to her, and she nodded. “Doctor Sparks, if you have to take a shit, what do you do?”
“Ask to use the head?” he replied.
“No! You will not ask to use the head! You will not remove the armor!” She droned. “Doctor Cowan! The Captain of the ship offers you a drink, what will you do?”
“Politely decline because...” I said glancing at a grinning Ced, who said it with me. “I will not remove my armor until told to do so!”
“Out-fucking-standing! You two might actually survive this!” she said without cracking a smile.
“May I ask you a question, Sergeant?” I said while stepping into the suit liner, and pulling it up.
“What?” she asked.
“Are you or were you a training NCO, normally called a Drill Sergeant or a Drill Instructor?” I asked.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “My former posting was Senior Instructor at the Jilaston Rift Basic Military Instruction Academy. How did you know that?”
I shook my head. “Just a guess.”
A glance out of the window to the bay showed me only one shuttle getting loaded. “So, if Ced isn’t going out to the ships, why does he have to be in armor?”
“Doctor Sparks is going out to the ships, He will be using the shuttle that was getting upgraded in the repair bay,” the NCO explained.
I nodded. “Okay, I was wondering because he’ll probably take longer than I will,” I grinned at Ced. “All I have to do is basically flip a switch, and make sure everything happens correctly. Supervising the replacement of a compliment of fighters sounds like a time consuming business.”
“I doubt It’ll go as quickly as you, but I’ll probably beat you back to the base. I only have three ships to visit,” Ced replied.
“Okay, since you are both suited up, follow me,” the Sergeant said, and led us into another room just off the locker room where she had us undress. Along the wall were six body shaped recesses and she pointed us to them. “Each of you get into one of the armor machines. It will enclose you briefly while it builds your shells. You will feel pressure, but don’t panic. The machine will measure and test your bodies so it knows how much of what to put where.” She knelt at my feet and plugged in an electrical lead to the cuff of one of my suit’s legs. She stood back up, and made another connection at an arm cuff.
Watching her, Ced made his own connections. When she finished with me, she checked his connections and nodded. “Remember, don’t panic. This machine has never hurt anyone.”
Seeing that we were both set, she leaned over a console, and touched a button. Something pulled me backwards as another panel rose out of the floor directly in front of me. It also had a body impression on it. When it reached the same height as the recess we were in, it moved forward and sealed us in.
I felt pressure as the unit compressed around my arms and legs, and finally my chest. Over a small speaker, I heard the sergeant say. “Take a deep breath, and hold it a moment.”
I did as told, and the pressure moved up to cover my ribs and chest area. I felt something cool touch the skin on each side of my neck, and I involuntarily shrugged.
While my chest was being ‘measured’, I felt a slight pressure enclose my feet, legs, then groin area, and torso, as soon as I finished shrugging, that same pressure covered my chest and shoulders, finally, I felt a slight air pressure. My ears popped, and the front of the machine moved back, away from me. I was surprised because I was now looking out of the visor of a sealed helmet. The visor had a heads up display, and immediately zoomed in on the Sergeants face, identified her, and slid the picture down to one corner with her information. In the upper left hand corner was an active mapping display showing my exact location in the base.
Over the comm in the helmet we heard the Sergeant. “You may remove your helmets by voice address. Simply say, ‘remove helmet’, and it will unseal so you can lift it up and off.”
When we both had them off, she nodded once. “To reseal them, put the helmet back on and tell it to seal. Come on, your shuttles are waiting.”
After we left and Sarah could fill me in on what was really going on, I was worried to say the least. “Will the girls and you be safe?” I asked.
“Susan said they would be attacking Earth, not the base itself. Even if they did attack the base, the residential units are in the deepest part of the base, and capable of sustaining life for years on their own. Our family should be safe enough. It is the Earth as a whole that is the target, not the base. The Veranorians are trying to take control of the Earth just like they did with the Shallan core worlds.”
“We can’t allow that to happen. If they succeed here, then the Alliance core worlds could very well be next,” I said.
“How so? The Core worlds of the Alliance are the heart worlds of each race, they are the most heavily defended of all,” Sarah replied.
“Yes, but contrary to their descriptions, the core worlds are not all grouped together. They are spread out, and each defended by its own fleet. The Shallan Core worlds are already under Veranorian control, if they succeed here, then the Human Core world will also be under their control. Who will be next? The Novans? The Simonians? We need to develop a strategy to stop them here and now, or they will continue until the whole of the Alliance is under their control,”
“I think that might be what the Commodore is trying to do. He is deviating considerably from standard doctrine for the defense of this system,” Sarah replied.
“How so?” Ced asked, proving that Sarah had included him in the conversation.
“Normally, he relies on variation of a frontal attack. However, this time, he is employing guile and misdirection,” Sarah explained. “Master Halflan and Thompson are busy fitting several shuttles with massive cloaking generators. Vance has also asked the armory to begin construction of a small, highly-mobile, weapons platform. I think he plans on seeding them in Earth orbit as a deterrent against Aracnice landing craft.”
“That’s a good start. But we’re gonna need more. I wish we would have had time to build some of our own ships,” I said. `
“That’ll come, Eric. If we can fend them off this time, we should have time to get something going. Besides, the rest of the Alliance should be waking up from the Veranorian controlling pretty soon, shouldn’t they?” Ced asked.
“About two more weeks if I understood Vance’s instructions correctly,” I replied. “He might change his mind if this goes badly.”
“I doubt it. Once he gets a plan in his mind, he usually sticks to it, unless there is a reason to change it. Vance is pretty confident in his plans,” Ced replied. “I know that sounds dangerous, but I’ve also never seen one of his plans fail before.”
“Well, we can just follow what he says, and do what we can to help him make sure his plan doesn’t fail,” I said. “Say, you told me about a missile guidance system you modified so it could jump. Did you get that finished?”
“Yeah, but I still haven’t figure out how to get it to go through shields. It has to have a lot of room to jump out, usually more than the volume of the shield in question,” Ced replied.
“I
don’t understand what you mean, Dr. Sparks. The hyperspace exit threshold for a fighter is roughly a hundred cubic meters. The Vibrand AM missile is slightly smaller, and has ten percent less mass than a fighter craft. I calculate that the exit horizon would be no more than eighty cubic meters, elongated because of velocity, just as with the fighter,” Sarah explained.
“That is true, Sarah, but the exact position of the event is unpredictable. In order to land inside the shield, we would have to have a far more accurate means of predicting, or should I perhaps say targeting the exit event,” Ced countered. “Without being able to limit hyperspace drift, there is simply no way to accurately program the missile.”
“I’m not an expert by any means, so forgive the suggestion, but doesn’t the navigator or astrogator or someone have to monitor hyperspace currents all the time in case the ship needs to jump?” I asked.
“Hmm, yes, you’re right, they do. I bet someone like Sarah could do it better, possibly even enough to accurately predict the drift of the exit point,” Ced replied speaking mostly to himself. “Sarah, while I’m off doing this, could you explore that possibility?”
“You would like for me to see if I can accurately predict the hyperspace drift of a given hyperspace exit event?” Sarah asked.
“Yes, that would be very helpful, however, it has a secondary priority to our current situation,” Ced explained.
“Yes, Doctor, I will look into it. I will need Commodore Vance’s permission to access hyperspace data though, may I speak to him about this?” Sarah asked.
“Certainly, but like I said, it has a lower priority so please don’t interrupt anything important,” Ced replied.
“Doctor Cowan, we are about to jump out to the Maljesti. Please make sure you are strapped in,” the pilot called over the intercom.
“We’re about to jump, Ced. I’ll talk to you again later,” I said, as I double checked my harness. I saw the NCO that had walked us through getting armor, nod appreciatively at me. I switched channels to the intercom. “Green to go,” I replied to the pilot.
“Okay Eric, have fun!” Ced replied and closed the channel we had been talking on. Sarah also signed off, letting me know she would be ready to assist in the system checks on the ships.
“You learn quickly, Doctor,” the Sergeant said.
I smiled at her, although I didn’t know if she could see it. “I wasn’t sure if a reply was required, but I thought it would be better to be wrong and send it, then not say anything at all.”
She nodded. “Better safe than sorry. We will never yell at you for that, and we appreciate it a great deal.”
I felt a lurch in my stomach, and my head spun a little bit as we jumped. In order to take my mind off of it, I asked the Sergeant a question.
“Not that I want one, but if we get in a mess, are you going to show me how to use one of your rifles?” I asked.
“We don’t have time this trip, however, I will show you how to work the side arm you will be carrying, after we land,” she replied.
“Understood, I don’t know if it will help, but I have had some firearms training when I was younger. All of it was with small caliber weapons though,” I said.
“Any training is better than none. At least you know to give a weapon the respect it needs, that’s most of the issues we run into when training someone,” she replied. “I was led to believe that weapons training was not part of your primary education system on Earth.”
“It isn’t, the courses I took were not affiliated with my school system. I opted to take them because I thought that sometime in my life I would need to know how weapons worked, and how to handle them. I also took basic vehicle maintenance classes as well. Personally, I believe everyone should get that training, but public school doesn’t offer it, even as an elective,” I explained.
“So how were you able to take the classes?” she asked.
“The vehicle class was offered through the local YPCO, and the firearms safety classes were offered through our community center. My mother took them as well,”
“What is this YPCO you speak of, I do not understand that,” another of the Marines asked. Up until that point, I had no idea the others were listening to us.
I turned to the person I thought asked the question. “It’s a community service group. Originally there were two separate entities, the YMCA and the YWCA. The first stood for Young Men’s Christian Association, and the other was Young Women’s Christian Association. But because of funding cuts and other factors, they finally merged into one group called Young People’s Christian Outreach. Although in most cases, people think the C actually stands for Community instead of Christian, which is a religion.”
“You mentioned that your training was with small caliber weapons, none of our weapons use mass driver technology, and there is very little recoil. They are also line of sight, so you do not have to consider things like projectile drop, or atmospheric conditions. Basically put the dot on what you want to shoot, and press the firing stud. The weapons automatically adjusts the focal point, and energy usage,” the Sergeant explained.
I nodded understanding. “Sounds like a laser sight. The dot marks the spot.”
“Just so,” the Sergeant said. “The side arms are one shot per press of the firing stud, the rifles are capable of multiple shots, or what you would call automatic fire.”
“Not continuous fire?” I asked. “It would seem to me that would be handy if the enemy were to rush your position.”
She shook her head, “No, the weapon cannot sustain the beam, it would melt down, and become unusable.”
I grinned, “You would love a sawed-off ten-gauge, loaded with three-inch-magnum, double ought buck-shot, or a fifty-caliber Desert Eagle.”
“A mass driver type weapon?” she asked, shaking her head again. “Arac body armor is pretty tough, I doubt such a weapon would even penetrate it.”
“When this is over, you and I are going to have lunch down at the firing range. I have a couple idea’s you might like,” I replied grinning at her. “Sometimes nothing beats an old-school education!”
We felt the soft jolt of landing, and the rear troop door opened by lowering to the deck. Outside, there was a single armored Marine waiting for us.
Before walking down the ramp, Sergeant Tul-Sa took a pistol and holster out of a locker, and handed it to me. From seeing it on other Marines, I knew where it was supposed to go, so I looked down at my hip, and brought the holster up to the area.
“Attaching side-arm,” a female voice said in my ear, and the holster affixed itself to my hip.
“Intuitive,” I commented to the Sergeant.
She held up her own so I could see it. “You’re the only one that can draw it now.” She pointed to the switch close to where my thumb would be. “This is the safety switch, simple off or on. You must also be holding the grip in order for the weapon to fire. When you look down the top of the weapon, you will see the red dot appear. I believe you know the rest.”
I nodded. “Simple enough. Don’t draw the weapon unless you are going to use it, never aim the weapon at anything you do not intend to shoot.”
“Out-fuckin’-standing!” she turned to her squad. “You three, with us. The rest of you, stay here, but gear up and be ready. Move out!”
As we came down the ramp, the Marine came to attention and saluted. “Welcome to the Maljesti, Doctor Cowan. I’ve been assigned to guide you and your guards to the Core room.”
I noticed that this Marine was a Lieutenant. “I’m a civilian, Ell-tee, you don’t need to salute me,” I smiled.
“Standard procedure, Doctor. If you would, please follow me,” the Ell-tee said, turning on her heel, she took off at a brisk walk for a hatch close to where we had landed.
I turned to say something to the Sergeant, but the NCO shook her head and tapped the side of her helmet. She was telling me anything I said the officer would hear.
Because of the emergency, the
activations were quick and dirty. In most cases, the Captain of the vessel was waiting for me in the core vault, so I could introduce them to their AI. While a crew was being trained in the use of the new AI, the core crystal was being installed into their ship. The activation of the new ship AI went well, but nothing ever goes as planned - especially when dealing with the Veranorian.
––––––––
Alliance Heavy Cruiser Maljesti
Pleiades asteroid cluster, Jupiter orbit
Sol System
Captain Brasten, Commanding
––––––––
“Sir, the Destroyers have left for their new positions. The holographic shuttles are working perfectly. We’re the last ship out here. Command reports another twenty minutes before our shuttle arrives,” the TAC officer replied.
“Excellent. Have the fighters found any more of those missile pods?” Brasten asked.
“Negative Sir, they’ve covered most of the asteroid cluster as well,” the new AI, Maljesti, replied. “Combined with our own sensor sweeps, we can consider the cluster clear.”
The Captain nodded. “What of the hiding spots we identified?”
“Three of the four possibilities were checked out before the destroyers and bombers returned to base. One remains, it is the one that had the lowest probability. Navigation Alert! Hyperspace event forming at three-one-five by zero-nine-two, by six-six, distance one-four-two thousand. Target assumed hostile!” the AI finished.
“Target confirmed, Sir, Battle Cruiser class or larger – mass readings are still fluctuating!” the navigator added.
“Red Alert! Alert the search fighters!” Brasten said. “Flight control, stand-by for a combat launch! Comm, report our situation to Command! Navigation, plot an intercept course. Maljesti, set combat condition one-alpha. Get the ‘destroyers’ moving to form up with us.”
“Sir, target has emerged! Unknown type, Assault Cruiser class. She’s holding position. Intercept in... fifteen minutes, mark! Engagement range in nine minutes!” The TAC officer replied. “Condition one-alpha is set. Shields and defensive weapons are online. Search fighters are assuming a protective position around the ship, according to the plan.”
