Chapter 541: 4th & 10 (1/2)
Corporal Nuk-Luk-Duk kept his mind calm, his large eyes closed, his limbs tight to his body, and recited his calming mantras. Less than five years ago he had been fighting the machines, had learned the Word of Jawnconnor, and had signed up for the Confederate Armed Services, eventually qualifying as an amphibious warfare specialist a year ago.
He was in a small capsule that was barely big enough for his armored form, his weapons, his gear, and the mission essential equipment he was tasked with.
There was a slight vibration that he ignored. Whatever it was, it was the province of the grav-striker pilot and beyond his reach.
Grant me the strength to smash the machine within reach and the patience to wait for the next machine rather than seek out those that are the responsibility of others, he thought to himself.
Finally, he felt the strange weightlessness of his capsule being released. There was a long moment, almost a full breath, before his capsule was pulled up by the hard-light grav-chute, going from nearly 210 mph to only 40 mph. It hit the water hard, but Nuk had clenched his jaws around his plastic bit to keep his teeth from chipping.
He could feel the capsule drift even as the vents opened and water filled the interior. Nuk was ready, and his gills opened and began pumping, moving water across them. The weight of the capsule pulled it down in the water, moving with the current. The internal computers kept the buoyancy just right so that he drifted from the drop zone and into the mission zone as part of the cool water.
It took nearly an hour before the weight shifted and his capsule sank to the bottom, bumping against the bedrock at the bottom. The grav-anchor kicked on, heavily shielded, and locked him into position.
Nuk opened his outer eyelid, still floating perfectly still in the contemplation pool within his own mind.
His capsule computer went through the checks. His weaponry was fine, as was his equipment. He was right where he was supposed to be. There were the other capsules around him from his Alpha Group.
The light went red and he popped the capsule.
The cool water of the river washed over him and he gave several clicks that his armored helmet translated into ultrasonic sound that dropped to nearly subsonic outside of water. He heard the clicks come back from his fellow Alpha Group members, all of them quickly getting a map of the bottom of the river locked into their brains through mechanisms laid down by evolution. It matched the map created by the capsules, with a few differences regarding temperature variations and a few 'shadows' of cold water that the capsule computers and sensors couldn't detect without more power intensive systems.
Nuk quickly broke into the capsule, taking it apart and into its base sections.
With his Alpha Group he quickly helped build a shielded underwater shelter, complete with an air pocket, designed in such a way as to completely undetectable above the water or within it.
The creation engine fired up with a hum, heating the water around it, as its heat level and slush levels rose to optimum levels.
Nuk, finished with his part of building the Forward Aquatic Base, floated up to the surface, keeping his crests down. Only his armored eyes showed above the surface as he looked over the terrain with biological systems only.
Up on the ridge was a fortress made of crystal and shining phasic energy. Heavy weapons were dug in, pointing at either side of the valley. Air defense systems scanned the skies. Heavy battlescreens and phasic shields glimmered at either end of the valley. Armored Type-V Autonomous War Machines were resting in vast rows with only a few of the smaller 'scuttlers' moving around. The larger ones were all white-globed and less than a 10th of the scuttlers moving around on six little legs were 'blue'.
Nuk could see a dozen of the purple skinned Atrekna in their shining iridescent phasic enhanced robes floating around. Some high in the air, moving from tower to tower of the fortress, the rest at ground level, examining the shells of the larger of the Atrekan Biological War Machines.
He kicked his feet to hold position, looking like nothing more than a slight current eddy in the wide, deep, slow moving river.
He used the clicker in his hand to relay the information quickly, sounding like nothing more than the river moving pebbles along.
The quantum communication systems were down, inoperable this close to the Atrekna. Radio would be detected instantly.
Which is why the fishbois swam away, each of the dozen cyborg fish carrying the same message.
**IN POSITION AWAITING ORDERS**
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Undrat ran a function check of Madame Three-Eighteen, not disturbing her sleep.
He was in M984A6 powered assault armor in heavy weapons configuration, the three chevrons of Junior Sergeant on his armor and on his HUD ID. His onboard systems were all green, his green mantid assistant 583 was ready and waiting inside the armored housing at the top of Undrat's back that made him look slightly hunchbacked.
A year ago Undrat had undergone Permanent Change of Station from Second Platoon, Bravo Company, Ninth Battalion, Second Brigade, Fifth Regiment, Twenty-Third Infantry Division, XII Corps, 14th Army to Third Platoon, Alpha Company, Ninth Battalion, Fourth Brigade, Ninth Cavalry Regiment, 1st Cavalry Division, III Corps. He had been promoted to Junior Sergeant and placed within Third Squad, one of eight Heavy Weapon Operators.
Undrat had been meticulous in understanding his place in the Order of Battle and the unit's Table of Equipment & Organization. He had attended Air Assault training, teaching him and the other trainees how to perform grav-striker insertions. He had attended ”Tukna'rn Finalization Classes” after his initial training, where he was trained in the entire philosophy again.
The Tukna'rn was sure that he understood and was ready for Air Cavalry operations. Three months of combat operations had proven that while the training had been excellent, the doctrine well polished, there often came times that Undrat had to rely on his infantry training.
But that was all right.
Now, Undrat was in a grav-striker, part of Operation Billy Mays. His weapon was straight up, Madame Three-Eighteen secure in the M8271E5 Heavy Weapon Specialist Standard Basic Gunner's Frame that was currently in Heavy Assault configuration. He had additional zero-point reactors, additional mass tanks, additional nanoforges, battle screens, as well as indirect fire weapons and anti-armor rocket capability.
He was the ultimate heavy assault trooper assigned to the fabled First Cavalry Division, which was part of the order of battle of the Terran Confederacy Armed Services, which may have known defeat but had never been beaten.
Undrat had calm faith in his superiors and their orders, and so he waited inside the grav-striker.
The grav-striker, part of 9th Cavalry Regiment, 1st Cavalry Division, III Corps, was hovering in place as it had for over two hours. The stealth systems were locked in, giving Undrat the taste of hengleberries across his back teeth that mixed with the blueberries from the psychic shielding.
That was within doctrinal expectations.
He checked his part of the warplan again, further fixing it into his mind.
The blue lights on either side of his HUD went red and Undrat sent pulses through his smartlink to wake up Lamark and Madame Three-Eighteen.
”Hey, boss,” Lamark, his eVI warboi, said quietly. Over the past four years his previous eVI warboi, Dunkark, had learned, experienced, grown, and changed. Dunkark had been assigned to assist newly graduated soldiers. Lamark had been assigned to Undrat.
”Lamark,” Undrat said, his voice calm and steady.
Madame Three-Eighteen pulsed back that all systems were ready and that she was currently set to SAFE fire mode.
Undrat ran his hand slowly over the barrel and heat shroud of Madame Three-Eighteen to let her know that he knew she was currently at rest and that soon they would go to work. Inscriptions of the words of the Digital Omnimessiah were engraved into her warsteel heat shroud, laid into the matte-black Gen-Zero warsteel with Undrat's own hands.
The lights on either side of his HUD went amber and Undrat checked the warplan and his part in it even as Lamark did the same.
The warplan extended exactly three seconds into his part.
Dismount. Survey the battlefield. If enemy is visible, engage the enemy. Apply firepower as directed or according to his own estimations. Enact instructions or maintain battlefield firepower superiority upon own authority. If no enemy is sighted, interlock with other heavy weapons specialists and divide up fields of fire and prepare for enemy assault.
Undrat nodded inside his helmet. That was extensive war planning, but he could see nothing that could go too very wrong without complete disaster.
Lamark frowned. He was used to much more in-depth warplans. Where he should set up, ranging shots, locking down the gun, attaching the nanoforge to the loading system, engaging or creating communications linkages.
It seemed very bare bones to Lamark.
Lamark had been baked up an artillery eVI, had survived his first three year tour without unraveling, and was now doing a tour of powered infantry. He had grown and experienced enough to realize what that slight flutter in his deeper variables really was.
Anxiety.
It was his first drop with Undrat, who had a stellar record.
But it was Lamark's first drop into the shit.
”Do not be concerned, Lamark,” Undrat said, watching the small screen in the upper right of his vision and seeing the eVI check over the orders for the fifth time. ”We shall perform our part in this battle.”
”Sure, boss,” Lamark said.
The grav-striker suddenly dropped but Undrat's boots kept him anchored to the deck of the striker and the pressure sleeve kept him snug inside his armor.
Undrat, as Junior Sergeant, would be third out the door, not following Sergeant R'Nert, the Treana'ad NCO who would exit the striker first, but rather going right, so that the section, half of the platoon, could exit the striker as soon as possible.
Second Lieutenant Ontruk, a Telkan, was at the front. He would be exiting first, Undrat following him.
Undrat knew the statistics.
Second Lieutenant Ontruk has survived his first three insertions into combat. His last insertion had given 2LT Ontruk a 84% chance of survival.
This time, this drop, 2LT Ontruk had only a 37% chance of survival.
Undrat reminded himself that he could increase the Lieutenant's survival chances with a few simple actions and five words.