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The New Era 26
🕑 Added 2025-01-31 13:53:26 +0000 UTCChapter 26
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
"MOVE MOVE MOVE!" I shouted as the hatch hissed open.
Simmons took point as our fire-team rushed out of the landing craft, rifles at the ready. A group of drones were waiting for us with their hands held outward, palms facing us. Omega and its contact had agreed on this being the sign that the drones were part of the rebellion. We moved past them and two additional MARSOC fire teams joined us in securing a perimeter as marines and crates began being unloaded from the shuttle.
My team and I kept our weapons trained down the massive hallway to the shuttle's left, looking for any sign of the enemy force. However, further down the hall were other marines doing the exact same thing we were. One of them treated us to a silly wave, and Simmons chuckled as he waved back.
Soon after, though, a distant staccato of gunfire came from behind us. Omega had taken the Omni-Union's eyes and ears from them, so the odds of running into security forces were low, but it would seem that someone got unlucky. Every marine was equipped with Armor Piercing ammunition, though, so hopefully they would be fine.
Three rank-and-file marines approached us and set down a crew served machine gun.
"Alright, gents. We got it from here," one of them said.
The Orion Firearms .60 caliber CS3A machine gun was fairly new as far as crew-served weapons go. It was similar to the .50 cal M2HB, but the CS3A was designed to be used against up-armored vehicles and unshielded shuttles. As such, the triggers were placed on the side of the weapon and the ejection port is on the top, which allows the weapon to achieve a much higher angle of elevation in awkward positions. Because the ejection port is on the top, though, it's definitely not a weapon you want to be using without a guardian suit.
Once the gun was finished securing itself to the ground, the corporal and two other marines took their positions and loaded it. It made a satisfying clunk as a fresh belt of 60-cal AP ammo was secured into place. I gestured to my team and began to look for an officer for further orders.
"Got a mission for you, staff-sergeant," Omega said, startling me. "We need to secure an FTL gate."
"FTL Gate?" I asked as a nav marker appeared in my Heads-Up-Display.
"Yes. The Grand Vessel is massive, so much so that it would take several lifetimes to traverse it without FTL travel. It would be extremely inefficient to install FTL drives on each and every shuttle that the Omni-Union operates, so they utilize gates that maintain an 'FTL Tunnel', for lack of a better phrase. We need to secure this gate system."
"There are active FTL wormholes in this ship?"
"Tunnel is a more accurate description, but yes. However, there's no cause for alarm. It functions quite similarly to our FTL communications."
"What about the radiation?"
"Actually, they have remarkably efficient radiation absorbents on these gates. Unfortunately, we've designed our tech to work around and with radiation, so their technology will have little to no impact on the way we currently utilize FTL. Perhaps it can be used to make more efficient reactors. At any rate, we need to make sure that we can use these gates. Otherwise, this assault is going last much, much longer than your natural life-span. Which is fine so long as it keeps the OU out of the Milky Way, but it would be a less than ideal situation."
"Understood," I said.
I explained our mission to my team as the two fire teams that had secured the perimeter joined us. The leader of each team walked up to me, and the rest of the marines began to mingle. Their icons changed to indicate that they were now under my command.
"They've got you as Alpha team," Staff-Sergeant Ramirez chuckled. "Guess that answers the question of who's in charge."
"Good to see you again, Ramirez," I replied. "I've got sergeants Hanson and Smith as well as corporals Johnson and Simmons."
"I've got all corporals," Ramirez said. "Eascott, Fairmain, Fog, and Wyseman."
"Damn, you're lucky. I've got mostly boots," Gunnery Sergeant Kim sighed. "Corporal Dewy and Lance Corporals Goetz, Langhell, and Quartermaine."
"Are they still trainees?" I asked.
"Yeah, but they're towards the end of it. All that's left is to get them time in the pit."
"That sucks," Ramirez laughed. "Imagine doing all this and then having to go through the pit."
The pit, known to the rest of the galaxy as the Olympus Mons Marine Corps Training Base, hosts the final tests of various special operations programs including the Marine Special Operations Command program. MARSOC candidates were pitted, no pun intended, against trained wet-work operatives in a month long survival simulation. The crater of the giant, long dead volcano offers a wide variety of both simulated and natural environments to test the capabilities of potential MARSOC operatives.
Honestly, surviving the harsh environments is the easy part. The hard part is the psychological warfare that candidates have to endure. There are two parts to these tests. The first part determines how well a candidate fails the impossible objectives they are given. The second part determines how well a candidate resists various interrogation techniques once they are inevitably captured whilst trying to accomplish their impossible objective.
Many critics argue that the tests are barbaric and outdated. They say that there are many modern methods of testing a person's integrity and capability, and forcing trainees to risk their lives just to prove themselves is mere bravado. Honestly, they might be right, but the Marine Corps is as open to change as a mountain range. Plus, the results speak for themselves.
"Well, at least they seem to be getting along," Gunny Kim said with a dark chuckle.
I turned to find him staring at Corporal Simmons and Lance Corporal Quartermaine. Their body language suggested a heated debate, but they were using point to point comms to do it. I could only hope that the discussion didn't end with Simmons getting yet another referral to Species Relations.
We let the marines mingle for another minute while we discussed our formation, then broke them up and grabbed the gear from the list Omega gave us. The least senior of each team was given a portable cover to carry. By the time we started to head out, the shuttle we had arrived on had been replaced by a new one with more marines and crates.
As we made our way down the cavernous corridor, the thud of our boots set me on edge a bit. In preparation for the invasion, we had swapped out our stealth gear for a standard load-out. I'd grown so used to the quietness of the R8-B Advanced Guardian Suit that the R8-A kind of felt like wearing a cannon-less tank.
Despite the extra weight of the portable covers, we were able to move at a fairly rapid pace. Omega had sealed most of the security doors, so we rarely had to check intersections. Still, the closer we got to our destination, the more adrenalin pumped through me. This FTL gate thing is a vital objective, so vital that it needs to be seized as soon as possible. As such, Omega was forced to send units to do so.
But why three fire-teams? One well-armed and armored fire-team is perfectly capable of forming a defensive perimeter that would be difficult to penetrate. Two would be more reasonable, but most commanders would call it overkill. More than two means...
We came to a stop in front of a door that was similar to the one we had to pry open during our last visit. Simmons nodded at Johnson, who placed detonation-cord around the frame of the door. We formed up and prepared to breach on Simmons' mark.
"Go!" he shouted.
Johnson triggered the det-cord and a dull thud rocked the corridor as Simmons slammed himself into the door with the full weight of his guardian suit. The sound of the door hitting the ground was immediately followed by the sound of lasers hitting energy shields. Simmons began to fire and seek cover as the rest of us followed him into the room.
"Deploy the covers!" Gunny Kim ordered.
Several of the VI platforms were standing toward the center of the room, flanked by two gigantic mechs. Sergeant Smith deployed the portable cover he was carrying, and the three other members of my team got behind it. I began making my way in their direction as I picked off the humanoid platforms to decrease the enemy's volume of fire. Just before I reached them, a vaguely familiar whirring noise made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
"GET DOWN!" I shouted.
I hit the deck a mere moment before a ball of plasma flew over me. A wave of heat managed to make its way through my suit's climate control, and my shields fizzled down to a quarter of their capacity. A sickening pop came from behind me as I focused my fire on the mech that hadn't launched its plasma, hoping to prevent it from doing so.
My bullets pinged off of its armored torso and legs, but seemed to have some effect on its arms and joints. Once my mag went dry, I leaned on my side and grabbed one of the cubes hanging from my suits cuirass. With my thumb, I twisted the top half of the cube and pressed the resulting indentation.
"Grenade out!" I called, tossing the cube toward the mech.
It soared through the air as the ominous whirring sound began again. As the second mech's lower left arm began to glow, the grenade exploded directly beneath its well-armored torso. I reloaded my weapon as the mech recovered and began to fire its lasers again. Fairmain and Dewy tossed grenades at the first mech, and after a couple of concussive thuds it fell into a pile of scrap.
"Check on Quartermaine!" Gunny Kim shouted.
"He's just legs, gunny!" Langhell replied with a shaky voice.
"Focus fire!" I ordered. "Drop that mech!"
Two more grenades clattered to the ground beneath the remaining mech and detonated. The massive machine collapsed onto a couple of the bots as we renewed our assault. One magazine later, the room fell silent.
"Status," I said, climbing to my feet.
Four green lights lit up on my HUD. I glanced at my marines, thankful that they were still standing. My eyes then fell on the remains of Corporal Quartermaine. It was a sight that wasn't exactly alien to me, but I knew I'd see it again the next time I slept.
"One down," Kim reported. "KIA."
"Shit," Ramirez shook his head at the sight. "Sorry gunny. My team is all green, staffsarnt."
"Omega, do we have reinforcements on route?" I asked, unable to look away from Quartermaine's remains.
"Yes."
"Roger that. Okay, bag him and tag him for retrieval," I ordered.
The room we were in was even larger than the corridor we had come from. On the far side of it was a pit with several shuttles parked nearby. Three obvious points of entry in the form of doors grabbed my attention
"Alright, I'm guessing the pit is the warp gate thing," I said. "Ramirez, Kim, your teams will take the doors. My team will keep eyes on the gate."
"Belay that," Omega said. "You need to board one of those shuttles."
"Fuck that," Kim and Ramirez said in unison.
"Omega, we're under-equipped," I argued. "We need AT before we push through the gate."
I took a quick glance at the pit. The gate itself was obvious, a multi-colored metal circle suspended about halfway down the pit. But the only sign of a wormhole was a slight waviness in the air and an occasional glimmer of light. Like a tiny amount of glitter in a tub full of crystal clear water.
"The other side of the gate is unguarded at the moment," the AI assured us. "The OU doesn't have access to this side, so your defensive perimeter needs to be on the other side."
"Just playin' devil's advocate, but that'll also mean we can have more guns facing out," Simmons said.
"And what about Quartermaine?" Kim asked.
"A full platoon is on its way," Omega said. "Once they arrive, they will transport him back to the rear."
"Yeah, that's obvious. I was askin' about when we'll get our chance for payback."
"I see," the AI chuckled. "Tell you what, once the gates are secure, I'll let you be the tip of the spear that we drive into the heart of the Omni-Union. As a matter of fact, if all goes according to plan, you'll be the first ones to confront their leadership. How does that sound?"
"Oorah!" we replied.
Payback. Can you really get that against machines that are next to mindless? Can an automaton that's completely devoid of a soul even understand the desire for revenge?
Virtual Intelligences don't even mourn their dead unless they're programmed to. And even then, it's performative. They can't be killed, only broken. A VI platform, or even an AI platform, can be rebuilt the same as it was before it was broken. It can even pick up exactly where it left off, completely unaware that it had been broken in the first place. We can't.
Lance-Corporal Quartermaine and all those who will be joining him are gone for good. These somber thoughts accompanied me while we boarded one of the Omni-Union's shuttles. As Omega powered up the craft, another thought occurred to me.
You can't get payback from robots, only their creators.
Comments
Aerowarrier
I mean if they have all of the exact same memories, this all of the same experiences, and a perfect clone of the body, then they are effectively the same person, as they would respond to the same situations in the same way. Itβs the same reason why every instance of Omega is the same, because they all have the exact same response to stimuli. Obviously that marine is still dead, but they would effectively have a second chance on life so long as everything is recreated perfectly
Rhuidean
Sure but that new gestalt consciousness would be a new person. That iteration of the marine is dead as a doornail. Unfortunately. It might be useful to bolster numbers and boost morale but brass tacks is the break in continuous consciousness may as well be eternal to the individual involved.
Aerowarrier
Tbh, that ending felt like it was foreshadowing that theyβve been cloning Marines and keeping backups of their memories, meaning that they can actually come back like that
peter kowalski
Darn I want more lol
Skullboneslayer
Amazing Chapter!!!! I am on the edge of my seat until next week again! lol
Jason Wilson
Ah the fight begins. Love it.
Matthew Mclemore
Rip Quartermaine. Your tenure in The New Era was short, but you shall be missed
Michael Karbowiak
Wonder if SR will be after Simmons once he inevitably tells whatever is the OUs leadership, so suck his human cock and balls π
Michael Halpern
M2 Browning is immortal
