by Tori Harris
Marine Squads “Savage 1” and “Savage 2”
(Over the landing zone)
“Savage 1 squad, hold position over the landing pad,” Jacks ordered as all twenty-eight members of his small but powerful force arrived silently at their target location, followed closely by their two, AI-controlled Gurkha assault shuttles. “Savage 2, split your squad into two sections, proceed three hundred meters north and south from the center of the landing pad, then move slowly east.”
“Savage 2 copies,” Master Sergeant Rios replied. The command interface of his suit allowed him to quickly designate the members of each new section of his squad and then assign their respective areas of responsibility. In seconds, his new orders appeared within each of his Marines’ fields of view, and the two sections headed off toward the north and south ends of the huge landing pad.
“Be advised that since we don’t have eyes on the target, neither does Theseus. We might also lose contact with the ship after we cross the boundary fence,” Lieutenant Jacks said. If there was one thing he hated during a mission, it was a bunch of unnecessary chatter on the radio. He had already been forced into saying more than usual on this op, but it couldn’t be helped. His Marine special operators were accustomed to operating in an “information-rich” environment, after all, but the unusual circumstances created by TFC’s countermeasures and today’s poor visibility had them going in almost blind.
“Savage 2 sections in position,” Rios reported from the northernmost group. “Moving east.”
Without responding verbally, Jacks commanded his squad to begin their sweep eastward at the same moment, adjusting the altitude of both squads to fifty meters as he did so. He had hoped to be in contact with Admiral Sexton by this time, or at least have acquired a signal from his beacon. So far, there had been no contact – no signal from the beacon, no thermals, nothing. Now, the young lieutenant monitored the sensor readouts projected in his helmet display intently as his two squads of Marines moved forward in a line stretching nearly one kilometer from end to end. It shouldn’t take us long to find them, he thought, assuming they’re where they’re supposed to be, that is.
The wait did not last long. Like many of the other electronic countermeasures designed to foil any attempts to eavesdrop on TFC Headquarters from the outside, the thermal masking systems formed a dome-shaped barrier surrounding the facility. As soon as the first Marine penetrated this barrier, the short-range passive sensor suite built into his suit instantly located and classified every Human (and Wek) signature on the campus. Fortunately, the tactical comm gear built into the EVA combat armor suits was specifically designed to penetrate even the heaviest signal jamming and still provide short-range communications between the troops. Each of the twenty-eight Marines was immediately presented with a comprehensive tactical plot of their battlespace projected seamlessly within their field of view. Their comm links back to Theseus, however, had now been severed.
Shit! Jacks thought, instantly ordering the two squads to halt as his mind raced to take in the situation unfolding on the ground a scant two hundred meters in front of him. He had literally gone from zero information to full situational awareness in an instant, and, unfortunately, there was far more going on than he had hoped to see. Focusing his attention on what he believed to be his targets, Admiral Sexton’s signal beacon was clearly visible — and apparently in his right front pocket judging by the pulsing red ovals projected in Jacks’ field of view. In spite of their masking devices, the AI also identified the two Wek by their distinctive bio-signatures as well as what appeared to be another Marine who was not wearing combat armor and carrying only his sidearm. All four of them were currently hurrying down a stairwell inside the southern end of the JAG Building.
Finding the admiral and his party, however, was no longer the problem … the problem was dealing with the forty-seven HQSEC troops taking up positions atop the building and just inside the line of trees to the west.
TFS Theseus
(5 km from TFC Headquarters landing zone)
“Captain, we’re finally starting to get some data from the infrared sensors,” Lau reported from Tactical 2, although he need not have done so with the huge image on the right side of the view screen finally displaying some movement for the first time. “We shouldn’t put too much faith in what we’re seeing on the combined sensor view just yet, though, sir. The AI has the sensitivity dialed up to the max, so some of the thermal sources displayed may just be transients from the surrounding area.”
“Understood,” Prescott replied, nevertheless staring intently at the live feed on the view screen. “What do you think?” he asked, leaning towards his XO without shifting his gaze.
Reynolds cocked her head to one side and narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know what to make of that, actually. I’m not used to the AI presenting us with raw sensor data like this, but my first impression is that it looks like an awful lot of heat signatures for that part of the campus this early in the morning.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I was thinking. Ensign Fisher … keep us above the cloud deck for now, but go ahead and get us over to the LZ as quickly as possible.” Prescott checked himself, realizing that “as quickly as possible” might well have an entirely different meaning for Ensign Fisher than he had intended. “Belay that. Please move us over to the LZ as quickly as possible while observing all applicable regulations governing our speed and altitude.”
“Aye, sir. Smartly and safely,” Fisher responded, smiling to himself.
“What, you didn’t want him to C-Jump us over there?” Reynolds asked under her breath while entering the necessary commands at her touchscreen to prepare the ship for landing.
“For a split second, I actually did consider it, but as far as I know, a low-altitude transition has never been attempted by anything larger than a fighter. I’ve seen a computer model for this ship, though. Over structures and people on the ground, the absolute minimum altitude would need to be two thousand meters. The shock wave would probably still break a lot of windows in the area and seem like the end of the world if you were unlucky enough to be caught in the open underneath us at the time.”
Prescott paused to reconsider the situation momentarily as the ship’s AI announced General Quarters for landing. As the announcement concluded, the lighting on the bridge took on a blue color. “I hate to give a conflicting announcement, but let’s go ahead and add possible combat ops to the General Quarters status.”
“Aye, sir. That won’t be a problem,” she replied as a single additional keystroke on her screen caused the lighting on the bridge to dim slightly. Shortly thereafter, the blue hue indicating an imminent landing became mixed with the eerie red tint associated with combat operations. While the AI announced the updated status, crew members throughout the ship hurried to their action stations. Just forty-three seconds later, all departments had reported their readiness, exceeding their captain’s standing expectation by two seconds on their first real-world attempt.
“All six reactors available and operating at one hundred percent. All weapons charged. We are at General Quarters for landing with possible combat ops, Captain. Should we configure the ship for landing?” Commander Reynolds asked.
“Very good, Commander, thank you. Not just yet I think,” Prescott replied, still staring at the combined sensor view of the area around the landing zone.
“We’ll be directly over the landing pad in zero one minute, Captain,” Fisher reported.
“Hold position above the cloud deck once we get there, Ensign.”
“Aye, sir.”
As good as the electronic countermeasures employed by TFC Headquarters were, Theseus was equipped not only with a powerful array of sensors, but also an AI capable of sifting through incredible quantities of data in an effort to uncover seemingly inconsequential patterns. Patterns that, in this case, finally resulted in the discovery of a weakness in the facility’s thermal masking systems.
On the bridge view screen, the view of the
landing zone resolved into perfect clarity, with a variety of raw sensor information now used to produce a photo-realistic representation of the situation on the ground. A situation that looked as if it could quickly spin out of control.
Chapter 17
Terran Fleet Command Headquarters
(Approaching the wooded area behind the JAG Building)
“Stop!” Nenir exclaimed in a hoarse whisper that brought the four members of their party to an abrupt halt. “We are not alone here.”
Hearing nothing, but feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand on end from the urgency of the Wek’s warning, the young Marine immediately motioned his small party back up the path in the direction of the picnic pavilion. He knew there was very little cover available unless they made it all the way back to the JAG Building, which did nothing but take them farther from their destination.
“Everyone relax,” Sexton said calmly as all four took the short walk back to the pavilion, stopping between the rows of tables under the center of the structure.
“Did anyone actually see any movement?” the Marine asked, looking back towards the line of trees as casually as possible. “Could it have been our people coming from the landing pad area?”
“I have seen nothing,” Admiral Naftur replied, “but I smelled them as soon as Nenir spoke. I trust you will understand that I mean no disrespect when I tell you that Humans emit a most peculiar scent when under stress,” he smiled. “My senses are not as sharp as they once were, but there is definitely a large party nearby.”
“Thirty,” Nenir said flatly. “Perhaps more.”
“Maybe so, but if they have thirty HQSEC troops waiting for us in the woods, what are they waiting for?” the Marine asked.
“I think we’re about to find out,” Sexton said, nodding back in the direction of the JAG Building as a small armored personnel carrier (APC) bearing HQSEC’s emblem on both sides rounded the northwest corner and headed in their direction. “It’s alright. Just stay calm and let me handle this,” he said, holding up both hands in a pleading fashion. “We haven’t violated any orders that have been issued so far, so there is no reason for them to prevent us from taking you to meet the Theseus as far as I know.”
The lightly armored vehicle stopped at the halfway point between the building and the picnic pavilion, its small caliber railgun traversing in their direction as the side and rear doors opened to reveal several HQSEC troops armed with pulse rifles and a woman in civilian business attire. In the distance, more guards could now be seen both in the line of trees to the west as well as along the top of the JAG Building. There was absolutely no doubt that such an overwhelming show of force was intended to remove any thought of resistance or escape.
“Admiral Sexton,” the woman called out with a commanding tone. “I am placing you under arrest for dereliction of duty as well as providing aid and comfort to two enemy combatants. There is no reason for anyone to be injured, but I need you all to throw down any weapons you might have, lock your fingers behind your heads, and kneel on the ground in front of the pavilion. Headquarters Security will then place you in restraints before taking you into custody.”
“It grieves me to hear it, Madame Chairwoman, but I can assure you that no such crime has taken place,” Sexton replied. He had felt an involuntary chill run down his spine the moment Crull emerged from the troop carrier. Had some sort of coup already taken place in the Council chamber, or would history record that it had been he who had attempted a coup? At the moment, he knew only that his best option was to play for time in hopes that help would arrive in time. “As is my sworn duty, I will be happy to submit to any lawful order issued by the Leadership Council. Has an order for my arrest been issued?”
Crull furrowed her brow and scowled at Sexton through narrowed eyes. “I have issued such an order, Admiral. As the Chair, you know very well that my orders carry the full authority of the Council.”
“With all due respect, ma’am, I do not believe that to be the case. No single person on the Council is in my direct chain of command,” Sexton replied in a carefully measured tone. Crull was always a bit dramatic, but there was now something almost … unhinged in her demeanor that he had never before witnessed. “Before we go any farther down this path, perhaps you and I should appear before the Council together. If what you say is the will of the full Council, they can issue a duly authorized order for my arrest at that time. Once that happens, you have my word that I will comply.”
“Give me your weapon, Sergeant,” she ordered the nearest HQSEC guard.
“Uh, ma’am?” he stuttered, unsure how he should respond.
“Idiot! What part of ‘give me your weapon’ don’t you understand?” she screamed, wheeling on the young NCO and physically ripping his pulse rifle from his grip. With a surprisingly practiced hand, Crull checked the weapon’s status, disabled the safety, and aimed it directly at the center of Sexton’s chest. “You will comply now, Admiral! At least one of your crimes is a capital offense, so I’ll execute you on the spot if need be.”
As she steadied her aim and prepared to fire, Crull heard a distinct THUMP somewhere in the distance off to her right. The sound was not one she recognized … almost like something heavy and metallic had impacted the ground not far away. The fact that she had felt the impact as much as she had heard it caused her to take her eyes off the admiral and look in the direction of the sound. Within a few seconds, the THUMP was repeated, this time from somewhere behind her. Now wholly distracted, Crull lowered her weapon and turned completely around to stare back in the direction of the most recent sound.
Watching from above and slightly behind, but still completely obscured from the ground by the heavy fog, Lieutenant Jacks issued a flurry of orders to several of his troops only four hundred milliseconds after the muzzle of Crull’s rifle started moving towards the ground. Before she had even managed to turn in the direction of the Marine who had executed an intentional hard landing just to her north, five others dropped with the same intimidating but bone-jarring impacts near the picnic pavilion. Each did their best to place themselves in the line of fire between the chairwoman and Admiral Sexton’s group, taking quick aim at both Crull and the HQSEC personnel surrounding the APC.
Since the “universal” EVA combat armor was intended to fulfill a variety of mission types, including crowd and riot control, if necessary, its designers had realized that a voice amplification system might be useful in certain situations. In some ways as dangerous as the pulse rifle itself if used incorrectly, the “VA” system was always a favorite during training exercises. When atmospheric conditions were just right, troops could sometimes use the system to yell to other members of their squad located as far as fifteen kilometers away in a voice that could reach one hundred twenty decibels (roughly the same volume as a clap of thunder). In addition to amplifying the user’s own voice, the system also provided a “command voice” option, which produced a psychologically-profiled tone which had a tendency to compel most Humans into immediate compliance. It was with this voice that Lieutenant Jacks now addressed Chairwoman Crull and her HQSEC troops. It was a voice without an apparent source, thundering from the leaden sky above as if God himself had decided to intervene in the current situation.
“Chairwoman Crull and all HQSEC personnel. You are interfering with an active Terran Fleet Command military operation. For your own safety, you are required to stand down immediately. Lower your weapons, step slowly into the open, and lie face down on the ground. Comply immediately and you will not be harmed. Marine special operators will be relocating Admirals Sexton and Naftur as well as Ambassador Turlaka aboard transport. Once we are clear of the area, you may resume your normal security operations.”
During the time it had taken Jacks to make the announcement, Master Sergeant Rios had seen to the deployment of the remaining Marines. Rather than slamming into the ground for effect, each now touched down in complete silence, quickly taking up key positions to cover HQSEC troops located on the
roof of the JAG Building, in the vicinity of the APC, and inside the line of trees to the west. Although the HQSEC force significantly outnumbered the Marines, none were wearing anything more substantial than standard-issue body armor. Perhaps even more importantly, none were TFC Marines.
This being the first operational appearance of the universal combat armor, none of the HQSEC troops had ever seen the like. Each was a truly terrifying merger of man and machine — with an unspoken promise to become the embodiment of rapid, violent death to any who chose to stand against them. Not only could the Marines fly, but the overwhelming power of their presence, along with Lieutenant Jacks’ earth-shattering voice, was more than enough to convince every member of the security force to quickly do as they had been instructed. Only seconds after the first TFC Marine had landed, all but one of the HQSEC troops lay face down with their hands interlocked behind their heads. Only Chairwoman Crull — who had once again taken aim at Admiral Sexton — and the commander of the HQSEC detachment — who appeared to be calmly trying to convince her to hand over the rifle — remained standing.
Crull, seeing that she had a clear shot, and desperate to regain control of the situation, squeezed the trigger.
Situations of this type have always had a tendency to take on a life of their own — the simultaneous actions and reactions of multiple, independent yet wholly intertwined participants coalescing to chart an entirely new course for the events that followed. In the seconds leading up to this point in time …
