2.
Sully was
starting to panic, his hard thought out plan was rapidly turning to shit. This
run should have been easy. In, out, avoid shaking-it-all-about, and he'd be
home free with good grades. Problem was, he'd spent too long working on his
tender proposal and not enough researching possible scenario locations.
Sergeant Gumelar was going to rip him to pieces over his lack of a backup
plan.
FUCK
Ok, at least
try to keep calm. He called up another tactical display, which looked no better
then any of the others that were currently slowly orbiting in his eye
line.
SHIT
The mistake
had been to assume that they'd been headed for one of Jupiter's moons, most
likely Europa. That had been where most of the previous scenario runs had been,
and that had also been where a rough plot of the ship's breaking trajectory
indicated they were heading for. But Sergeant Gumelar was, of course, a cunning
bitch. A day and a half ago the ship had ramped up the breaking thrust to just
over a g. How the Sergeant had convinced the AI to allow that, Sully did not
know; the faster burn and greater fuel use increased wear on the ion drive and costs
more. The AI hates shit like that. But the Sergeant managed it and so here
Sully was now, sat half way up the side of a small crater on the asteroid Hebe
with little idea on how to proceed.
BOLLOCKS
Gravity was
really low, less than 0.1g. Just keeping his pack on the ground was going to be
fun, he'd already had to scale back output power as the drone AI struggled with
the conditions. Of course, part of the reason for that was that he'd brought
the wrong pack. Idiot. The trainee
marines had been given the choice of the ship's store of ground based drones.
That was how it would work in a real operation, so that is how the Sergeant had
it for these exercises. The trick was to build a suitable pack of drones for
the task at hand while pleasing the AI by assuring VFM with the selection. That
was the key to winning the tender versus the other marines on board. The key to
getting paid. So Sully had concentrated on running relatively cheap drones as
his main point of attack, with one heavier unit for back up. Keep total pack
size down to three meant less weight in the drop ship so less entry burn, less
fuel consumption. A good start in terms of the AI's VFM calculations.
Unfortunately, a bad start in actually getting the job done.
ARSE
At the base
of the crater was the slightly forlorn looking hunchbacked shape of his heavy
backup, a xenon class mobile tactical missile silo, otherwise known as a
"Thumper". At over four metres tall and coming in at over three
tonnes, the Thumper was a staple of battlefields across Earth and interventions
in space. It's ubiquity kept prices down, especially when the cheap-arse AI
stocks the ship with a job lot from the lunar military surplus brokers. And
effectively useless in its current location.
TWAT
Hebe was just
a couple of hundred clicks in a diameter, more of an ovoid than a sphere. It's
not unusual in operations to be dropped maybe a hundred clicks away from the
target - in low g it's easy for a smaller drone to cover that ground in maybe
an hour, while maintaining the element of surprise that a near target drop
doesn't allow for. Problem is that being dropped off a hundred clicks away on a
lump a rock just a couple of hundred in diameter is that it puts you on
completely the opposite side to the target. That, coupled with the ultra low g,
makes it next to impossible for the Thumper to get a missile vector on the
target. Sully could move the big drone closer, but the amount of dust it would
kick up in the low g would be only slightly less effective than a neon sign in
terms of announcing their arrival to the target. He could have tried moving it
up during darkness, but "night" on Hebe lasted a little under four
hours, insufficient for a heavy drone not designed for rapid transition to the
front line.
CRAPPIT
Still, at
least Sully still had his two rock-hoppers. He could at least try to make the best out of a bad job.
The rock-hoppers in their traditional set-up looked fearsome, the psychological
effect of facing something that looked like a metallic attack dog, but was the
size of a small horse, made them ideal for crowd control back on Earth where
they were, not affectionately, known as "hell-hounds". They were also
able to hinge their limbs out to the sides, taking on a more lizard like
appearance, making them ideal climbers. Footage of four of these hounds scaling
a skyscraper before smashing their way into an upper floor during the American
slum wars went super-viral in seconds and was subsequently claimed by some
historians to have been a prime factor in breaking the spirit of the
resistance. They weren't quite as fearsome looking in their rock-hopper guise;
the lengthened claws, less pronounced front jaw and slightly squatter body
knocked out their proportions somewhat. But Sully wasn't attempting to break
anyone's psychological spirit here, there wasn't much VFM in that approach. He
had instead directed the rock-hoppers to approach the target from opposite
sides, where they now lurked, waiting for his next command. But as well as
plain old indecision, technical issues were also making Sully's day get that
bit worse.
FUCK, no I've used that one, SHIT, AGHH, NOW I'M RUNNING OUT OF SWEAR WORDS
Hebe was
small, but she was also incredibly dense. While this tends to get mining
companies excited given the greater likelihood of big deposits of nickel-iron
and other profitable elements, it was badly screwing with Sully's bio link to
the drones. Readouts from the rock-hoppers were either dropping out, or making
no sense. It had proved impossible to get a visual feed. Shit, at this rate he
might have been better commanding the pack from back on the ship. But that
wasn't how the marines rolled. Also, it was rare that pack command from the
ship was feasible. While that prick Si might be able to fly his drones easily enough
through the crisp vacuum of space from the comfort of the ship, the dust and
radiation from the sort of asteroids and moons the marines normally worked
played hell with the bio link.
He was going
to have to get closer. Carefully he stood up from the squat he'd taken while
assessing his meagre options. The tac-suit he was wearing was vaguely humanoid
in that it had arms and thickset legs. Just no head. The trunk section
resembled the egg a chicken might lay, if that poor chicken had lived its short
life in a high radiation environment. It was fatter at the top than the bottom,
with a large blister where the right shoulder of the occupant would roughly
be.
But it wasn't supposed to be pretty.
Sully
clambered over the lip of the crater, movements slow, precisely considered. He
could have just jumped over in the low g, but the potential to get it slightly
wrong and break the escape velocity of this hunk of rock was just too
embarrassing to consider. Having to be picked up while slowing drifting through
space away from the operation would not have gone down well with the AI grading
him, or, more to the point, Sergeant Gumelar.
Just getting
out of the crater and onto the surface of the asteroid proper improved his
connection with at least one of the rock-hoppers. A hazy visual image from the
drone was pinned to the upper right of his visual field. The rock-hopper was
looking down onto a small mine-head from approximately 100 metres away. It
appeared deserted, the two prefabricated buildings unlit and the main lift
shaft into the asteroid interior reading as powered down.
Movement
Sully had
covered a little more ground to try and improve the link, but the second
rock-hopper was still registering high interference. It was a seismic sensor in
the first rock-hopper that detected the movement, from behind one of the
buildings. Sully instructed his drone to move a little higher up the slag heap
his sensors were now able to tell him it had clawed itself onto, above the
mine-head.
He would have
gasped, except that wasn't possible inside the tac-suit, filled as it was with
a thick, oxygenated, gloop designed to booth boost radiation shielding and
absorb higher g movement. One of Sully's most unpleasant experiences in life
was the first time he had been instructed to breath the gloop, it oozing inside
his lungs, senses crying out that he was going to drown. Still, it was a vital
part of training if he wanted to avoid turning his lungs inside out during
evasive manoeuvres.
FOCUS!
Unpleasant
memories were put aside as he made sense of what the rock-hopper was looking
at. It was a mining drone, one of the large machines used to chomp its way
through the rocky asteroid interior. Thick caterpillar tracks ran down its
sides, it's front end dominated by a giant drill rig, itself surrounded by
manipulator arms and multi-directional rock melting lasers.
Then there were all the bodies
impaled on crudely welded spikes that ran along the top of the machine.
Sergeant
Gumelar had excelled herself. Now the long nights she spent behind the locked
hatch to the machine shop started to make sense, her final scenario for the
recruits to run was going to be a good one. The scenario briefing had been
deliberately vague. LH owned mine gone off line, garbled messages from the dig
lead, demand for higher pay, psyche-AI suspected mental instability driven by
long off world placement. The usual.
A LH
negotiation team had been re-routed over, only to disappear, then more garbled
messages, threats to nuke the mine and associated equipment. That's when company
AI would really start to worry; a
direct threat to company property was taken very seriously. And so nearby
(admittedly a relative term in space terms) intervention ships were invited to
tender for the clear up operation. Secure the mine with as little disruption as
possible.
Sully was a
few clicks closer now, and readings from the second rock-hopper were starting
to come in. It wasn't just the asteroid causing the problem, it seemed, but a
thick fog of electro static being pumped out by the mining drone. Apparently
the deranged dig-lead in this scenario had expected company and was ready for
it.
The static
was crude, and Sully could easily enough disable it with the electronic warfare
suite housed in that blister on the right shoulder of his tac-suit. However, he
did that, then the dig-lead would know he was there. The nut case would also
probably be able to figure out that he was outmatched electronically and who
knew how he'd react. Maybe he'd start tearing things up with the corrupted
mining drone. Maybe he'd send the jury rigged central reactor critical. Sully
didn't want to be around for that particular firework.
THINK
The
rock-hoppers could probably deal with the mining drone, big as it was, but that
wasn't really going to get him anywhere if the dig-lead was controlling it from
somewhere else. Sully sent the second hound on an arcing course around the two
prefab buildings; the control centre and crew quarters. It's dog like
appearance was sort of apt given the kit Sully had loaded it with. High level
sensors were effectively trying to smell possible human occupation in the
prefabs. If he could pinpoint where the dig-lead was, then take him out, he'd
be sorted. Mind you, knowing Sergeant Gumelar they'd be some kind of dead man's
switch that would set off the explosion if the target was attacked. Still, any
possible attack was a moot point at the moment as the rock-hopper was detecting
no life forms in the prefabs. This tallied with the passive scans the other
hound was running from its vantage point on the slag pile. The life support on both
prefabs was shut down, any human inside had to be vac-suited. But then the
second rock-hopper would have picked something up, as vac-suits tend to give
off a distinctive set of heat and gas readings.
The mine
The dig-lead
had to be inside the mine. But not too far down as the dense asteroid rock
would mess up his connection to the mining drone. Sully sent the first
rock-hopper higher up the slag heap, try and get a better angle on the
mine-head. Meanwhile he moved the other in between the prefabs, careful for any
pressure sensors the dig-lead may have set, and keeping one of the prefabs
between it and the mining drone. From this position the second rock-hopper was
just 30 metres from the mine-head. Ready to pounce.
Now, how to
tempt the dig-lead out? Maybe broadcast a warning? Come out with your hands up! But the report on him said mental
instability. Ok, so how about something more subtle? Sully directed two more
passive scans of the mining drone. The dig lead had done a decent job of
setting up some neat anti-incursion scripts, but nothing Sully was too worried
about. He could add his own gremlin script in there, maybe send some spurious
readings back to the dig lead's control interface. Or maybe report that a
sensor probe in the drone has got blocked - happens all the time. The guy comes
out to fix the glitch, rock-hoppers pounce, Sully close-blankets the area in
electronic sludge to prevent any kill switches activating. Simple.
Sorta.
The plan
assumed that the dig-lead would come out, that he didn't just get twitchy and
blow the place. But it was the best Sully could come up with, short of sending
the rock-hoppers into the mine. And that brought him back to the issue with the
bio-link through the asteroid. Nope, that wouldn't work. Plan A it was, or was
it plan B or C by now? Sully gave a sort of shrug, the gloop that packed him
firmly within the tac-suit shifting slightly.
Movement
The sensor
readings from the rock-hopper on the slag heap jumped, its power usage briefly
spiking as internal motors and gyroscopes flared into life. The visual feed
wobbled. It took Sully half a second to figure it out, but the rock-hound had
simply slipped on a loose rock. The second rock-hopper watched as a few small
stones rolled down the slag heap towards the mine kicking up dust as they
rolled. Sully held his breath, or he would have if the oxygenated gloop that
filled his lungs wasn't already in effect breathing for him. 30 seconds, a
minute passed with no other movement. The mining drone seemed oblivious,
presumably focussing its crude sensor array outside of the mining camp for intruders,
unaware of the enemy within.
The first bit
of luck Sully had got today. It also triggered a new chain of thought, a new
plan. Sully smiled for the first time that day. Seismic scans were run, the
smile widened. The second rock-hopper looped around to join its compatriot on
the slag heap. They both climbed further up the heap, carefully selecting claw
holds as they progressed. About two thirds of the way up, and now a good 200
metres about the mine-head, they stopped next to a larger piece of rock. They
slowly dug out some of the stones from underneath it, then moved round
behind.
And pushed.
It didn't
take too much force in the low g, and when dislodged the large rock took a
little time to build momentum, but the incline of the slag heap and the
distance to the mine head were enough for a satisfyingly large rock slide to be
unleashed. The mine-head was buried. Sully was quick to follow up with his
active incursion into the central reactor and mine drone's systems,
lock them down, but he was confident that there was now enough rock between the
dig-lead and the outside world to prevent any nastiness.
Sully punched
the vacuum in celebration, a movement that threatened to send him tumbling into
orbit and required a hasty vector correction. A small but bright flare in the
sky told him that a drop ship was coming in to pick him up. Sully couldn't wait
to see the Sergeant's face when she got the readings for this. Mission complete
without a weapon fired. More than that, the mine would be back up and running
in no time. No damage to external systems, while it would take the
reconstituted mining drone all of 20 seconds to chomp through the slag blocking
the mine head.
And the AI could take VFM like that and stick it up its electronic arse.
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