Terran Marines (Ch 01)
I'm planning on this to be a series of short stories. Some action up front followed by the characters blowing off steam upon completion of their mission.
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Stephen looked up the deserted street of Quieztl 5. An eerie howl, raised by a stiff wind, came through the speakers in his helmet. He studied the Heads Up Display (HUD), looking for a sign of the UA's, or Unknown Aliens, that they were hunting. All he could see were the three other members of his fire team spread to either side of him and the rest of the squad loosely strung out behind his team. His team was on point, slowly moving northward along the dusty street. The icons of another squad were displayed one block over.
They had landed three hours before, chasing reports of UAs flitting around the colony. The colony itself was small, only around forty families - about one hundred people. The world itself wasn't unpleasant, the atmosphere was breathable and the soil amenable to human crops. It was an idyllic world suited for a colony to establish itself and grow.
However, humans were not alone in the galaxy and not all of the races were friendly. Many of the friendly races were ancient and moribund, reluctant to exert themselves to help another race in need. Humanity had found a small core of like-minded species that were willing to ally themselves to an aggressive, growing race. They supported humanity while sheltering under her strong wings, for sharks swam in the depths of space.
Stephen's point, Private Johnson, raised a fist and sank to a knee. Behind them, the entire squad sank to a knee and faced outboard, weapons ready.
Stephen slipped up Johnson and made helmet to helmet contact. They were able to talk and hear without keying their mikes. "Whatcha see, Johnson?"
"Not sure, Corporal. My sensors twigged to something ahead of us, but it keeps fading in and out. But it's staying ahead of us, moving when we move, stopping when we stop."
"Show me."
Johnson manipulated their suit controls within their gloves, slugging the data to Stephen. The symbol for an intermittent contact blazed on his HUD. It was coded with a low probability of accuracy, which was why it had not been automatically forwarded to the entire squad.
"Cpl Stephen, what do you have?" asked his squad leader, Sergeant Kronkit, as he picked his way over to Stephen.
"Sgt, it's a faint, intermittent contact that is staying just out of our suit sensor range." The sensors on their suits were good, but rather rudimentary and they did not have any of the more sensitive snooper sets with them.
"Understood. Any sign of the colonists?"
"Negative. Our sensors aren't picking up any signs of life in the houses." They had been slowly moving through a residential area. Each house was dark and silent. They had checked the first dozen houses, but they were all empty with no signs of violence or the colonists. They had stopped physically searching each house, relying on their sensors to detect any life.
"Damn. It looks like we're too late and the UAs got them all."
Stephen was silent, waiting for orders. He could see Sgt Kronkit's beacon slowly flash with an antenna icon, indicating that he was communicating with their platoon commander, who was orbiting above them with First Squad.
"Third Squad, let's pick up the pace and see if we can catch the UAs and that sensor ghost."
The entire squad obediently stood and began to patrol forward, but at a quicker pace than before. Stephen could see Second Squad moving faster as well. He felt uneasy as they moved towards the unknown. He opened a private channel to Sgt Kronkit.
"Hey Sgt, I don't know if this is the smartest idea. We're pretty spread out from Second and we're almost running towards a sensor ghost. Do you think we're being lured into a trap?"
There was a short delay before Kronkit answered, "Yeah, I agree with you. I've already talked to the boss and First is loading into the drop boat. In five they'll be overhead and at that point they can be on the ground in thirty seconds."
Stephen was cheered by the news that the LT was taking the threat seriously. First was wearing full powered armor, unlike the unpowered armor that Second and Third Squads were wearing. Unpowered armor was good for recon, checking out buildings and had a good, general set of sensors. Powered armor was used for breaking things. Lots of things quickly. They generally were not used if you wanted to keep an area intact, like a friendly colony.
They rapidly moved through the residential area which slowly began to give way to light commercial buildings, suitable for a new colony.
"Hey, Sgt K, these buildings are proving to be resistant to our sensors. If we're going to get hit, this is the..."
In the distance, the whine of a Terran rifle was answered by the high pitched hum of lasers.
"Cover!" barked Sgt Kronkit.
The squad dispersed to the sides of the street, finding whatever cover was available.
"Contact!" screamed Pvt Johnson as scarlet icons blazed onto Stephen's HUD.
A swarm of low, misshapen bipeds swarmed around the corner to the front of the squad.
"Contact front, a dozen Goblins." Stephen made the report and his armor automatically routed the call to all the Marines. No one knew what the Goblins called themselves, but they were vaguely human-shaped, although few were taller than a meter. They were also ugly, with an uneven head, a small mouth filled with very sharp teeth, and two beady eyes on their bald head.
Stephen rose to a knee, keying on his rifle. His zip gun, or more formally known as the Mk56 Needle Rifle, was ready as soon as he brought it to his shoulder. A targeting carrot was automatically superimposed on his HUD and Stephen stroked the trigger. With a high pitched 'ZZZZZZ', three streaks of light flashed downrange and four Goblins fell. The Mk56 was unlike most modern infantry rifles in that it still fired projectiles. They were thin needles of depleted duertonium, but were given a plasma charge as they were accelerated down the zip gun's barrel. The benefit of this complex mechanism was to provide the energy burn of a laser with the penetrating power of a projectile. The thin, but heavy needles packed a punch and could easily punch through two or three Goblins.
As the threat to the front died, Stephen noted Goblin icons popping up on their flanks.
"Johnson, watch front. Berts, you've got left. Cron, you've got right. I'll maintain overwatch."
His fireteam reoriented themselves and began to engage any targets that appeared. The squad's firepower and discipline almost immediately knocked back the first wave of Goblins, but it was not all one sided as one friendly icon blinked yellow, signifying a non-lethal injury, but an unlucky Marine from their third fireteam strobed an angry scarlet.
A second wave of Goblins erupted from between the buildings, firing their lasers from the hip. Stephen's combat 'puter estimated 200 Goblins were filtering between the buildings to attack the Marines. He switched his grip on his rifle, palming the underbarrel grenade launcher. His HUD targeting carrot automatically adjusted the aimpoint and he rippled off the full clip into the Goblins.
Thump, thump, thump-thump-thump-thump PING!
The grenade clip automatically ejected and just as automatically, Stephen caught the clip, deposited it into his open dump bag, pulled a replacement clip out and inserted it into the rifle. The whole, well-rehearsed movement took less than 10 seconds.
The grenades, plus the fire from the squad, tore the heart out of the attacking Goblins and they faded back behind the buildings.
As the Goblin fire slackened around Third Squad, Stephen eyed his HUD and noted that Second was having a tougher time. The scream of the drop boat flashing overhead meant that relief would be on the ground in seconds and his squad didn't need to immediately move to their relief. He watched with a critical eye as fifteen bulky silhouettes separated from the boat and rapidly dropped to the ground. Thirteen suits were from First Squad, the other two were LT Hunter and the Platoon Sergeant, Staff Sergeant Kerwalski. The blue glow of anti-grav marked each suit as it decelerated. He lost sight of them as they dropped behind the row of houses, but he could hear their suit weapons barking. Goblin icons started to rapidly disappear as the sound of explosives and hum gauss rifles floated over the air. Within a minute of the relief squad landing, there were no live Goblins on the battlefield. The drop boat made a couple of strafing runs to eliminate fleeing Goblins that had moved beyond the reach of the Marines.
The drop boat swung back around as the wounded were tended. They were loaded back onto the boat, which lifted and headed to rendezvous with the fast transport in orbit.
The two foot squads pushed forward and were backstopped by the armored suits. The LT was in their armor with First Squad and they directed the three squads in an efficient manner. There were a few scattered fights with small groups of Goblins, but for the most part their resistance had been broken. After finishing their sweep through the small village without finding any of the villagers, the platoon was picked up by the two drop boats. Second squad was the first to be retrieved, but Third was not far behind.
Back on the fast transport, the Marines trooped down to the armory to strip and clean their weapons. Once that was done, they shucked their armor, ran them through a battery of tests, replaced any worn or broken components, then washed and hung them to dry.
As Stephen was hanging up his armor, Berts approached him. "Hey, Corporal. Today really sucked. All those damn colonists gone, just like that." He snapped his fingers. "What are we going to do about it?"
"We? Lance Corporal Berts,
we
are not going to do anything about it. In time, I imagine HQ will send a battalion out to completely sterilize the area, then BuCol will send out a new group of colonists. This was supposed to be a quiet system, far from any raiders, so the colony wasn't given much to defend itself. I imagine the colony will have stronger defenses, maybe a bunch of retired Marines looking to claim a stake."
Berts looked satisfied with the answer and turned to finish cleaning his armor.
Only when their weapons and gear were taken care of did the Marines turn to clean themselves. When Stephen walked into the shower, Berts, Cron and Johnson were already under the showerheads. Johnson was soaping her voluptuous tits while Cron and Berts washed nearby. Cron lustfully soaped and stroked his erect cock next to a seemingly oblivious Berts, who was studiously washing himself.
When the three saw him walk in, they greeted him with a loud, "Third Herd in the house!" He chuckled and waved them away.
