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The New Era 19
🕑 Added 2024-12-13 14:05:53 +0000 UTCChapter 19
Subject: Staff Sergeant Power
Species: Human
Species Description: Mammalian humanoid, no tail. 6'2" (1.87 m) avg height. 185 lbs (84 kg) avg weight. 170 year life expectancy.
Ship: N/A
Location: Classified
"You know, I gotta say, I'm not a huge fan of all this sneaky bullshit," Sergeant Hanson grumbled. "Stealth just isn't my thing."
"Then you made a poor choice of career," Sergeant Smith chuckled. "Sneaky bullshit is basically all MARSOC does these days."
"The recruiter lied to me."
"They always do. Unless they think you're gonna make 'em look bad."
"Career choices notwithstanding, this is a fairly simple op," I added. "At least, on paper. Blow some pipes, grab an overdrone, and evacuate. All without being seen, which is the only hard part."
"Yeah, and the part I'm not happy about," Hanson said. "Why even give us guns if we aren't meant to use them?"
Hanson's pre-mission jitters were completely justified. Even I was feeling nervous. There's a lot riding on us not being spotted by the Omni-Union, and from what Omega told us we're not going to be able to move forward with an assault without grabbing this overdrone. If we don't move forward with an assault...
It's a simple mission, though. Get in, blow some stuff up to cause a distraction, grab our guy, and exfil. Omega has been watching this overdrone for a bit, and believes that it may have ties to some form of clandestine rebel organization. If the damn thing's cooperative, it'll be able to put us in touch with this organization and we can get a rebellion going.
"You make a good point, Hanson," Omega chimed in. "Would it make you feel better if I had you leave them on the shuttle?"
Four helmeted heads turned to look at Sergeant Hanson. He ignored the glares and calmly turned toward the speaker Omega had used.
"No."
A raspy chuckle came from the speaker. Another attempt by Omega to build a rapport with us. It hadn't given up on trying to get us to like it. If anything, the AI had become more subtle in its attempts. Gotta give credit where it's due, I almost believe that it wants to be friends with us. Almost.
"So... We're doing this because the other drones we grabbed are 'dead' to the Omni-Union, right Omega?" Simmons asked, making air quotes.
"Yes," the AI answered.
"Won't this overdrone be in the same boat because of the explosions?"
"That depends. The main purpose of the explosives is to put things in disarray. We'll snatch the overdrone and bring it aboard the shuttle for a quick interrogation. If, like I suspect, this overdrone is sympathetic to our cause, we'll return him to the grand vessel with a special comms device that will let him contact us. If not, then we'll transfer him aboard the Strandhogg and the OU will assume he died in the explosions."
"What about the explosions themselves?" Johnson asked. "Won't that tip them off that something is off?"
"That's possible, but you'll be planting the explosives in locations that are marked as points of concern due to being behind on maintenance. We've also changed our recipe a bit to hide the 'alien signature' that they detected last time. To the OU, it will look as if they had a bunch of critical failures all at once. They may take note of the coincidence, but they'll be ignorant of our involvement. Probably."
"Probably," I parroted with a sigh. "You know Hanson, I'm starting to empathize with your position on sneaky bullshit."
"Once we're ready for open conflict I'll make certain that the two of you on the front lines," Omega said. "I might even be able to join you, actually."
"What do you mean?"
"The older mechs don't have much in the way of defensive software. If I gave it some effort, I could probably destroy their AI and take control of the platforms."
"The mechs are AI?" Smith asked. "Not VI?"
"Correct. It's pretty grim, even for me."
"What do you mean?" I interjected.
"The Omni-Union don't create software-based AI like me. They create organic based AI, closer to the Pwanti. The mechs are former dissidents and criminals who have been forcefully mechanized and shackled."
"Jesus Christ," Hanson said with disgust.
"Oh fuck," Simmons muttered. "Imagine though, you're fighting for your freedom alongside your friends and family, and the next thing you know you're trapped in a tin can with a chain gun, mowing down those very same friends and family."
"Fuck. Just... Fuck," Hanson shook his head. "What are the odds that they can do that to us if they catch us?"
"We're not even certain that human anatomy is compatible with known forms mechanization," Omega said. "Still, try not to get caught."
"Getting caught will result in the OU learning about the situation in the Milky Way and will probably lead to the extinction of humanity," I added. "We'd kind of deserve being mechanized, honestly."
The mood grew grim and contemplative. I had just clarified that the everyone we know, love, and hate are all relying on us, and now we were all thinking the same thing. 'If someone has to fuck up, please don't let it be me.'
The silence that filled the shuttle continued as the docking procedure began. The shuttle itself had been heavily modified for this mission. Instead of an umbilical, we were attaching ourselves directly to the hull of the Grand Vessel and carving our way in. The 'hull ripper' can also repair the hole it leaves, so the OU will have no way of knowing we were ever here. Unless they see us.
As the sound of cutting filled the shuttle, we stood and I grabbed the bag of explosives. One by one, we made our way toward the keel-hatch. I pointed at Simmons with my index finger, indicating he should take point. Then I added a finger for Johnson, myself, Hanson, and finally gave Smith a knife-hand. Each marine nodded, indicating that they understood where they should be in our formation.
A moment later, the keel-hatch opened with a hiss. Simmons leapt through without hesitation, and the rest of us followed. As soon as our boots hit the ground we moved to take the perimeter, simultaneously making room for the next marine to drop.
The hallway was spacious and, thankfully, empty. With a small beep, objective indicators appeared on my Heads-Up-Display to let me know where we needed to go. I scanned my sector with my rifle until I heard the impact of Smith's boots hit the ground. A moment later, four green lights lit up on my HUD to let me know we were all clear.
"Let's move," I said.
The first objective was nearby, and we approached it as fast as we could without running. The R8-B Guardian Suit made our footfalls a lot quieter, but running would make enough noise to be detectable. We paused at each intersection, making certain it was clear before moving on.
When we reached the objective I tossed a bomb to Johnson, who immediately knelt to set it up where Omega had indicated. The rest of us formed a perimeter around him, weapons outbound. A few moments later, Johnson's indicator lit up green, and we continued on.
At the next intersection, Simmons held up a hand to halt us. We stopped and drew close to the wall.
"What's up?" I asked.
"Drones," he said.
"Omega, suggestions?"
"Hold on," the AI replied.
A moment later, I faintly heard an artificial voice over an intercom. I couldn't make out what it said, but a few moments after it finished Simmons motioned for us to continue. Still moving quickly, we crossed the intersection and moved to the next objective indicator.
The second went much like the first, as did the third and fourth. Through a combination of luck, skill, and an AI overlord we managed to plant the explosives without being seen or heard. Then came the difficult part of the mission.
"The overdrone is surrounded by drones," Omega said. "Once I detonate the explosives, those drones will come running. I'll run interference to keep the overdrone where it is, but the drones are going to be moving past you. There's a room that normally houses construction materials that is both empty and near the location of the overdrone. It will suitably hide your presence."
"Hide in the supply closet, aye sir," Hanson said.
"Once you grab the overdrone, keep him close. There's a jammer in the explosives bag that will prevent him from calling for help. Electronically, at least. The shuttle is already maneuvering to take advantage of the chaos. I'll let you know where pickup will be."
"Roger," I replied.
A new objective marker appeared on our HUD, and we began to move towards it. The closer we got to it, the more activity we nearly ran into. Despite this, we fell into a rhythm and made it to the supply room in good time.
The door to the supply room didn't open automatically like the rest of the doors had. I gestured for Johnson to get the door open and the rest of us took the perimeter. After a minute, Johnson let out a string of swears.
"Omega, I can't get this piece of shit door open," he said.
"Neither can I. Try forcing it open."
"Will we be able to close it after?" I asked.
"If we don't open it all the way," Johnson answered. "But-"
"We don't have time to think about it," I interrupted. "Get it open. Now."
Johnson nodded and grabbed a strut that was jutting out of the door. He pushed, and the door began to slowly move out of our way. I gestured for Smith to give him a hand, and the two marines repositioned themselves to put as much pressure on the door as possible.
The only thing that was running through my mind was whether or not any drones would round the corner while we were trying to get in this damn room. How we would have to react was obvious.
The only reaction in a mission like this is to drop them and hope that their deaths are attributed to the explosions. That would mean having to take their corpses with us. If we don't react properly or there's too many drones to carry, it will be a mission failure.
"It's open," Smith announced. "Get in so we can get this damn thing closed again."
Hanson, Simmons, and I rushed into the room with our weapons up and took a quick look around. Just because an AI claims a room is empty doesn't mean that it is. Thankfully, the bot happened to be right this time, and all that was contained within the room were some shelves. We moved to help Johnson and Smith close the door, which is when I noticed the damage that had been done to it.
"Shit," I muttered.
"Tried to tell you, staffsarnt," Johnson shrugged. "No use worrying about it now."
"Yeah, hopefully they won't notice."
The five of us pushed the door closed, causing that much more damage to it. Thankfully, it wasn't identifiable damage, just dents where there shouldn't be any. No hand-prints or anything.
"3, 2, 1," Omega said. "Boom."
A series of shudders reverberated throughout the room, kicking dust from the ceiling and shelves. We waited in silence for a few moments, then we heard a large group of drones run past the door, shouting at each other as they went. After a few more moments, the sounds of footsteps and shouting faded into the distance.
"Overdrone is clear," Omega informed us. "Move."
All five of us pushed the door to the halfway point, exited the room, and closed it behind us. As soon as it closed, a new objective marker appeared. We reformed and practically sprinted toward the marker.
When we reached the door that the marker was hiding behind, it opened automatically. Johnson muttered something under his breath as we entered the room, weapons up. Only one target was in the room, the overdrone, who was sitting in what looked like some sort of open pod. Or, if he doesn't cooperate, a metal casket filled with electronics.
All three the overdrone's eyes widened at us as we approached. His jaw looked almost human before it began to gape, opening up where our chin is and hanging slack in shock. That took me by surprise a bit, because it was different from the other two drones. He rose from the pod-thingie and raised his mechanical hands as if to keep us away.
The overdrone was somewhat off-putting, but I couldn't quite figure out why. Even though it stood an entire foot shorter than we did and looked pretty harmless in its current state of shock, something in the back of my mind warned me that it could be a serious threat. Kind of reminded me of the Kinran Effect we'd been warned about.
The Kinran were known for being nicer than most, but most people, regardless of species, have an aversion to them because of their similarity to arachnoids. Apparently, most worlds had eight legged creepy crawlies, but the Kinran home-world had theirs become the dominant species.
I looked the overdrone up and down, wondering what exactly made me feel apprehensive about it. Maybe the eyes? The jaw? The odd way that his skin seemed to blend into his mechanical parts?
"Who are y-you?" it asked.
"Irrelevant," I replied, keeping my rifle trained on his head. "These are weapons. They are lethal. You will come with us, or we will use these to end your life. We will do the same if you try to run or call for help. Understood?"
"Y-yes, yes I understand. Where?"
I pointed to the ground between Johnson and myself. The alien stared for a moment, then reluctantly became a part of our formation. A new objective marker appeared and we began to move. I kept my rifle pointed vaguely in the overdrone's direction.
"Stay between us and do as you're told."
"I understand."
We exited the room and heard the bustle of activity in the distance. Thankfully, our objective took us in the opposite direction. I turned off my external speakers and activated my internal comms.
"Omega, how long do we have before they have the situation under control?" I asked.
"Oh, you'll have plenty of time," Omega chuckled. "I wouldn't stick around to enjoy the scenery, but mostly because it's so bland."
"What? Why aren't we in a rush?"
"Those explosions were carefully planned to create a chain reaction with various fuel and power lines in this area," the AI chuckled. "Should be any old time now."
"Wh-"
An enormous rumble shook the ground beneath our feet. The overdrone began to drop to the floor, but I stopped him halfway down. Another rumble sent a whoosh of air past us as I pulled him back to his feet.
"Let's go," I said.
"O-okay," it replied.
We began to double-time it toward the objective, carefully keeping a pace that the overdrone could match. More rumbling signaled more explosions as we ran, and the whining of alarms began.
"How's this for sneaky bullshit, Hanson?" Smith asked with a laugh.
"Fuck off," Hanson replied as we reached the objective marker.
We reached the objective marker, and a hole just like the one we had entered through greeted us. Wasting no time, Simmons and Johnson climbed through, and covered the overdrone as it did the same. I gestured for Smith and Hanson to go and covered them.
"We're in, staffsarnt," Hanson reported.
I turned and began to climb through the hole in the wall. My jaw clenched at the disorientation of the gravity shift, but I pushed past it and accepted Smith's hand to help me up into the shuttle. Once I was clear of the keel-hatch, Simmons pressed a button to close it.
"Mission accomplished," I said. "Let's get out of here."
Comments
Matthew Mclemore
Got a feeling things are not going to continue going so well
DarkValorWolf
oh man I need the next chapter like yesterday!
