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First Deployment (Corporate Marines Book 3)

Page 9

by Tom Germann


  I let go of the edge and make sure that I have a solid grip on my rifle.

  The drop is only thirty feet on a low-gravity moon and I’m in combat armour. I hit the ground, roll forward, and come up with my weapon up. No one.

  A second later there is a second distant crump! and a second after that, a third one that is a bit louder as there are no sealed doors between us.

  I can hear the sound of the atmosphere leaving but I can’t feel it. The holes aren’t that big. Then I look around.

  The room I’ve landed in is almost as large as the one above. There are two large entrances and what appear to be two smaller doors, probably for personnel. The lighting is poor down here and the walls are bare rock.

  The two elevators disks are on huge rods that go into the floor.

  There are a few workstations of some sort around the room. The place looks miserable.

  My display shows this subterranean area better, while above is now fuzzy with interference. I head to the nearer hatch. No luck; it’s been locked down and the locks are going to be bigger than I can deal with.

  I move to the hatch right next to it. It’s smaller than me, but I can probably squeeze through. I just hope that the passage beyond connects directly to the larger passage. I don’t fully trust my sensors at this point and I’ll be dead in seconds if I’m stuck almost doubled over with dozens of enemy troops stacking up in the passage firing on me.

  I hear the sound of machinery from above.

  Damn it. They’ve already moved the heavy armour forward. On the far side of the room I can see a mid-sized control panel light up and I can hear and feel gears starting up. Someone is getting ready to use the elevator system.

  I don’t even think about it. My rifle is up and I’m firing rounds into the control console. The fifteen-millimetre rounds smash the controls and the sounds of the gears changes. It’s as if the machinery is deciding what to do. Around the huge rods that bring the disks up and down are large control boxes of some sort. I can see maybe half of them on both of the rods.

  I fire a single round into each one that I can see, and then a second round for good measure. Parts are falling everywhere and smoke is coming out from several of those boxes. Unless they have an emergency override that lets them just drop the rods straight down, they won’t be coming down that way for a while.

  I’m flying sideways and spinning in the air. My left leg feels like it’s been hit by a transport truck and I feel nothing but pain. Warning symbols are flashing in my HUD and I’ve lost my focus. I’ve been hit.

  I slam into the wall and then drop to the floor with a clang. I’ve still got my rifle in my hands and I’m on my back. Some scummer shot me.

  I can see the elevator disks and the hole I dropped through. There’s a heavy-armoured soldier standing there pointing a large-calibre projectile weapon at me. I zone out.

  Rifle out, mag is empty. Electrically fire three grenades from the underslung grenade launcher. Two hit to the side of the opening and the third is lucky, right through the opening and detonating on the armour’s chest.

  I see it in slow motion. The grenade flies straight through the hole.

  The explosion is blinding as my HUD goes fuzzy for a second but I still see the figure is thrown backward. I doubt the grenade did anything other than scratch the armour. There must be more upstairs. They’ll be taking shots or dropping explosives in a second.

  My leg armour is buckled and damaged but I still have suit integrity. It just hurts like nothing I’ve experienced before.

  I roll and make for the small side hatch. I throw myself against the lock and bend the metal locking mechanism until it snaps and then opens.

  I stagger forward and am through the hatch. There is no small passage. This is just a man door that must be used when they don’t want or need to use the main door.

  Sixty feet down the passage are several figures at an overturned piece of equipment. They all have weapons and those are now pointing at me. My rifle is already up and I fire off the last two grenades in my grenade launcher. I’m completely out now.

  Everything is moving slowly.

  While I am hitting the button to release the mag with my one hand, my other is pulling a magazine off of the spot where it’s mag-locked to my chest.

  The two grenades are flying down the passage almost at the makeshift barricade. I can see one is going to land behind it somewhere, and the other should be on the barricade itself.

  There are seven figures at the barricade. Four are behind it and the other three are in front like they are moving more stuff forward—or maybe they had been coming to check the loud noises that they heard coming from the elevator room. I can’t make out details on any of them other than they are wearing some sort of mask. I’m not tracking clothing; it’s the weapons that I’m focussed on.

  Those behind the barricade are all armed with small projectile weapons that they mostly have slung. Two of the three that come forward are armed with laser pistols, and the last has a large wrench that is almost as big as he is.

  They’re all scurrying around trying to take cover and get their weapons into play, but they won’t be fast enough.

  The larger figure with the wrench throws himself down the tunnel toward me.

  The magazine is almost in and then time accelerates.

  The first grenade goes past the barricade and explodes. One of the figures is thrown up into the air while the other three disappear. The other grenade hits some sort of workbench and detonates, shredding the two figures with laser pistols. Their bodies drop.

  The magazine clicks home and I hit the button, which slams the bolt forward, carrying the top round into the chamber. But the highest threat is right on me with a huge wrench, ready to take my head off.

  It moves down the passage faster than I thought something could move. It’s like a big rat, and then it is on top of me and I can make out more details. It’s bigger than the images of the Kah-Choo I’ve seen. The fur is long and matted, looking black in this poor light.

  It has to be a worker, but it’s much bigger than that caste is supposed to be. The overalls it’s wearing are full of pockets and it had a larger bag slung on its side. Small parts and stuff are hanging out of every opening it has in its clothing. The feet and hands both have four digits, and the mask over its muzzle doesn’t seem to have any separate contained atmosphere.

  I find myself wondering if the mask filters out toxins, or if it is an emergency rebreather in case of a breach in the outpost.

  As it comes down the passage at me it runs hunched over, on three of its four limbs at one point. Then it leaps into the air. I swear it flies along the top of the passage for several feet with its mouth open screaming into its mask while both its arms hold the wrench over one shoulder. It looks just like a batter getting ready to hit a ball. And I’m supposed to be the ball.

  It swings. I duck, and when the wrench passes over me I stand up again and grab the rat man by the neck with one hand. I don’t know how much it weighs, but it rocks me back, even in my armour.

  It’s disgusting. I am holding something that looks like a rat. The small, beady black eyes are staring at me without blinking. It looks like it has gone insane, constantly writhing in my grip, and I can’t help but shudder as I think about the fleas it must have.

  My grip is tight but I can feel it trying to get away and the flesh in my fist feels like it’s tearing. The Kah-Choo worker is smashing its wrench against my head, but can’t get much strength behind the blows.

  I turn and smash the scurrying little rat man against the wall, but it keeps struggling so I crush it against the wall over and over again until it stops moving.

  The limp body falls when I let it go. It hits the floor like a sack of flour. I have blood all over my arm and spattered on me.

  I shudder as I start moving down the passage. I have to move faster.
There are two hundred meters to the target to go, but I’m getting a clearer reading on targets down here and there are dozens ahead. They have caught up to me.

  My sensor reads are scrambled for a second. That little monster has actually damaged my suit! He must have been hitting me harder than I thought, and I know it will only get worse. Everything clears up in a second. I have to hope for the best.

  I have to advance down this passage, into a larger chamber, then down a smaller passage and into the target room.

  Easy. Except that I can pick out thirty targets ahead on sensors, a company of medium- and heavy-armoured troops behind me, and no way out.

  I take off at a limping run.

  I’m moving as fast as I used to be able to run. I feel crippled compared to what I had so quickly grown used to. I grab a magazine for the grenade launcher and feed it in on the run. I have twenty rounds in the rifle and a five-round magazine in the launcher. I have eight and four more mags respectively, and then I’m down to my laser pistol and five batteries. I could hole up somewhere up ahead, but that would make no sense.

  My suit’s batteries will be dead before I can get off this rock. I won’t die gasping as my suit shut down, though. We’ve done enough damage that I am pretty sure the Kah-Choo won’t make any effort to keep me alive. If they catch me, I figure the chances are pretty good that they will simply let me suffocate slowly. Maybe even record it. After all, we have invaded their space.

  I see movement up ahead at the end of the passage. Whoever or whatever is up ahead must have heard the grenades going off just seconds ago. I slow down. There are a dozen of them advancing toward me in a line.

  I don’t have to think. I throw myself down to give them a smaller target, and while I am still hitting the floor I fire off two grenades into the centre of them. The blast seems louder and their bodies are thrown up and away from the explosions. I don’t think any of them survive.

  From the end of the passage I start taking fire. I can see three shapes bobbing back and forth. They are moving in a pattern, though, and keep coming out from the same spots. Two shots, and two of them are down.

  The third one disappears and doesn’t come out anymore.

  I am still taking fire but it is slow and nowhere near me. My HUD gives me an estimate of where the shooter is located when it isn’t losing control and giving me nothing but electronic fuzz on the screen. Those hits to the head with the wrench did something, and it seems to be getting worse.

  I squeeze off a round and the sporadic fire stops.

  I get up and limp forward.

  The end of the hall slowly gets closer.

  I have no signal from above. As far as I know the entire section is dead. I can’t think about that. They have escaped off planet or are in the process. They will get away and get more reinforcements. The section will carry on.

  I will carry on. I’m going to finish this mission somehow.

  The enemy troops behind me won’t be able to follow for now because I blew the elevator system. They’ll have to find another way in—a slower way—and they won’t be able to come after me with their heavy armour and bigger weapon systems. They’ll have to deal with me in light to medium armour, and I’ll have the advantage on that. At least until they get some lucky hits in on me.

  I’ve been limping down this damned hall for what seems like forever. My leg is hurting more now. The computer should have automatically deployed a mild anaesthetic, but my system keeps resetting every few feet.

  I must have taken more damage over all this than I thought. The room ahead shows that I have eighty combatants now. The system and sensors have to be badly messed up. There should be fewer than thirty now. I mean, unless they are somehow copying themselves.

  I stop short of the entrance and push back against the wall and into a small alcove. The system is constantly flashing on and off now. I have to do something, and this alcove is as good a place as it seems to get in here. It provides almost no cover, but something is better than nothing.

  I have to carry out a forced reboot and hope the systems settle down.

  When I force the reboot, my armour will be dead. No muscle enhancements, no targeting, no sensors. Everything will be shut down, and if I have to move, it will be like moving a two-hundred-plus-pound suit, which I’m wearing.

  Everything should reboot and the backup systems should properly kick in at that point. If I’m lucky, the system will come back and I will have more use. Or if the damage is really bad and every single link has been cut or damaged, the suit will be dead and so will I. But it has to be done.

  I point my rifle at the end of the passage and make sure my finger is on the grenade launcher trigger.

  I concentrate and start the shutdown process. The HUD goes down first and I feel good that I remembered to lift the helmet’s blast cover before I started. Otherwise I would be looking at the inside of it. The plas cover under it is clear but I don’t have the same range of vision. The sensors around the suit can give you a complete three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of the area around you. It’s like you don’t have a helmet on, and enemy movement flicks at the edge of your vision as a warning.

  I can feel the suit go unresponsive and then dead. The entire suit is now powered off. I’m a dead mass of metal with almost no signature now. The entire passage is dark like twilight.

  I use my chin to toggle the emergency reset button. It’s inactive unless the suit shuts down.

  Nothing happens. I’ve only ever done a reset in sim before. It always works . . . unless the system is fried.

  I can see shapes and shadows moving up ahead around the entrance to the passage. There have to be a lot of them if I can see them up there in the dark. I had forgotten that the Kah-Choo are almost nocturnal. They like it darker. It hadn’t affected me before as my suit sensors simply adjusted and I saw the area in human normal light. It wasn’t natural light but it was close enough.

  I hit the button again and this time, hold it down. There’s a sound like a snap! and then I can feel the suit slowly becoming more responsive.

  It’s too late, though. I can see movement at the passage mouth. I don’t know why they haven’t started shooting yet.

  I squeeze the trigger on the grenade launcher. It feels like I am trying to move through concrete. The suit is starting to come on but it’s so damn slow. I have no real feeling but I must have hit the release point.

  The grenade launcher fires. I had aimed it at the floor just past the passage entrance before I shut down. It doesn’t make it that far, slamming into a body that detonates it. The flash lights up the passage. The area is swarming with bodies. The blast should have cleared them out with the shrapnel and blast, but I see only a few bodies thrown away in the blast.

  There are so many that they absorbed the damage.

  The suit is so slow coming back online I’m barely aware of that. I have to squeeze the trigger back all the way and trigger fully automatic.

  Again, I don’t know when I hit that point. The other four grenades are simply released in a stream, all heading for the same spot. The grenade launcher doesn’t have much recoil normally. In armour you can’t even feel it.

  The blasts have more impact this time as all four grenades go off one after another. The flashes are bright and I can see bodies being thrown back. The last blast sends shrapnel back down the passage and I see a flick at my eyes as something smacks into the plas.

  My suit is partially back on and it only feels like I am moving through quicksand now.

  I’m reaching for a magazine of grenades, which is a struggle, and then I’m moving almost normally.

  The empty mag clatters to the ground. The full one is snapped home and I hit the release, chambering the first round, then I reach up and close my blast cover. The HUD comes back up, as do the suit’s sensors. The images are not as smooth as they were before, but the system seems to h
ave stabilized.

  I can see the passage and room ahead looking as bright as day again. It looks like bodies were splattered all over. There’s a head on the floor just next to me.

  I killed or crippled a mob there.

  Suddenly the pain that had been running up and down my leg fades into numbness as the computer auto-injects me with a local anaesthetic. I can move almost normally now. The pain is still there, but it is numbed. Those were pulled muscles and something wrenched. Not life-threatening.

  I swear that I had been down for a full minute. According to my internal clock, I had been offline for nine seconds.

  I walk down the passage the last few feet. I can hear a banging behind me on the vehicle door at the other end of the passage. The heavy armour has found a way down.

  They’ll cut through if they can’t open the door in seconds.

  I run ahead with my leg a dull, distant ache.

  The room I enter is huge. It’s a chamber and must be a central node for the facility. Perhaps some sort of meeting chamber or something. It has to be close to a hundred feet wide, with dozens of tunnels leading off of it. The floor seems to be slowly heading downward as well, the farther from the central core I move. I don’t think I am even under the dome anymore.

  There are workstations and tables everywhere along the sides of the chamber. There is even a second floor with a walkway going all the way around the chamber and more openings along it.

  My sensors hadn’t been wrong, though. There are dozens of enemy combatants around the edge of the room, spread out all over, cowering back under whatever cover they can find.

  My sensors paste a marker over the open passage that most likely will take me to the target.

  I take off at a run as they start popping up all around me. As I identify threats, I fire on the run. The lone enemy with what appears to be a rail gun explodes when a round hits him in the chest. The medium weapon team with the tri-barrelled laser takes two rounds. The first round kills the gunner while the second round smashes through the assembly before knocking the loader back.

 

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