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32
Andata Province, Diess IV
0714 GMT May 19th, 2002 AD
"First thing we do," said Mike on the platoon push, "we kill all the lawyers. But shortly after that, we gotta power-up."
"And we do that how, sir?" said Sergeant Green, immune by now to the vagaries of his abruptly imposed commander. It was bound to be harebrained, but on the other hand "it just might work!"
"Set the suits to search for power supplies in general; we'll scavenge as we go. As we move upwards keep an eye out for mobile equipment. They all use the same energy sources, they're usually on the righthand side in a green painted compartment and they look like large green gems. When they're fully powered up they glow brightly then fade as the power falls off. They'll fit in that secondary power receptacle on the rear right of your suit. When we find them, they get distributed to those with the lowest power levels.
"Also, look for very heavy machinery, like the stuff Captain Wright was trapped under. The power receptacles for those can be jury rigged to bleed off to the suits. The problem is that the suits will recharge with a heavier draw than all but the heaviest machinery. Now, give the pistols and their ammo to the scouts. Put them on point and we'll move out.
"If we can't avoid a group of Posleen, charge 'em, concentrating on the ones with the heavy railguns. The light guns can't penetrate our armor so don't bother with them. After we take down the ones with the heavy weapons, we can finish off the rest like killing fish in a barrel. If we can, we want to completely avoid them, though, so move fast but quiet. Once we power-up, crank up your compensators, it'll cut down on that elephantlike thumping. We gotta be swift, silent and deadly. Okay, that pretty much covers it. Scouts out, follow the bouncing ball."
The four remaining scouts caught the grav pistols tossed to them and moved out of the door to the room, following a heads-up projection of a green will-o'-the-wisp ball, bouncing ten feet in front of them. The ball would lead them on without their having to constantly refer to a map. It was dim enough to not impair their target line and, of course, invisible to the enemy since it was a projection in their helmets. Wiznowski stopped just before exiting the maintenance area beyond their sanctum and tossed a small sensor ball into the next room. Satisfied by the take from the sensor he motioned the first scout through the door. Moving out of the maintenance area the scouts spread out through the manufacturing section beyond. Gigantic looms rose on either side, metallic forests of industry.
Mike tapped one trooper on the arm and gestured to a general-purpose lifter abandoned in the midst of a repair project. The trooper found a faintly glowing gem which he waved around triumphantly. It was passed to a third squad trooper with an energy readout blinking in distress. When the gem had been drained by the power receptacle his energy reading was still blinking, albeit slower, and the gem was dark and cold. Mike gestured and the trooper tossed him the discharged gem. If they ever found an opportunity the gem could be recharged.
Sergeant Green made a hand gesture at the looming machinery to either side but Mike shook his head and made a wide gesture indicating that it had to be much bigger. As they progressed towards the building core they twice stopped to let randomly looting groups of Posleen pass.
Although the platoon was hardly silent in its movement, between the suit systems and Michelle's tap on the security systems, they were able to detect the Posleen well in advance. When they neared the power plant, Mike called a halt. The scouts fell back as the platoon dropped into a perimeter. It was time for a council of war.
"All right, I want some opinions," Mike said on the platoon push. They were in a large open area, another storeroom, this time for some type of large parts. The shelving loomed three stories above them, and rank on rank of structures marched away into the distance. Mike tapped a command and all the enhancements changed to Posleen Normal. The light level dropped to nearly nothing. There was a distant illumination near one end of the warehouse, probably an office or entryway. Another command bypassed the ventilation system and adjusted the hearing to normal. The ring of suits around him was totally silent, the gray camouflage skins fading into the darkness making it nearly impossible to see them. There was a faint smell of organic solvents and ozone. There was no indication of any activity in the area but it never hurt to check with normal senses. He turned his sensor suite and ventilators back on and continued.
"I won't say that I'll take the advice but I will listen to it," he continued. "We are about five minutes away from this building's power station. We can get all the power we want there, but there are Posleen there taking it apart. It is still fully functional for our purposes but to take it means we'll have to fight and we may attract attention.
"Inter-Posleen communication is not fully understood nor is Posleen territorial activity in the immediate post-battle period. What that means is we may have two billion Posleen around us at the first shot. Or we may not see any.
"There are multiple exits and we can probably cut our way out but we may use more power than we gain. On the other hand, there may be no response, especially if we hit hard and quiet. Now, I want the opinion of the NCOs, most junior first. Sergeant Brecker?"
The young third-squad leader raised his hands palm upward. "I'm down to about two hours normal use, sir. And one of my troops is lower. We haven't scavenged enough to matter. As far as I'm concerned there's no choice."
"Sergeant Kerr?" First squad.
"Can we, like, redistribute the power, sir?"
"No, the suits can scavenge but not share, that's why I was distributing it on the basis of lowest power first. It's a subject there was a lot of technical debate about; ask me about it if we both survive. Basically, if you have an open power output, it can be tapped under certain circumstances. On the other hand, whether we live or die the technical report on this will go to Earth and I'm sure this will tip the debate some other way. Too late to help us, however. So. What's it go
"Attack, sir, no choice."
"Noted. Sergeant Duncan?" Second squad.
"Why not just go where there is heavy machinery, Lieutenant?" Duncan asked with a note of interest.
"It would take us about an hour, at our present rate of movement. Too far out of our way." Mike noted his tone. The council of war had more than one purpose, it was the first time he had conducted a two-way communication with his NCOs. He was learning a lot from their responses. "What's your vote?"
"Attack." The response was clipped but almost enthusiastic.
"Sergeant Wiznowski?" he asked.
"Kill 'em all, sir," said the Wizard with uncharacteristic savagery. "I don't think there's a choice and I wa
At that there was a muted growl on the platoon net.
"Sergeant Green?"
"Go for it, sir."
"Right, I'm glad to have your opinions. We go for the power. Now, by squads, who has real experience in knife fighting, wrestling or serious martial arts? Oh, yeah, if you've won more than your share of bar fights. I want somebody to back you up, not just your word for it. Squad leaders, get that information on the squad push. Three minutes."
He watched in amusement as the squads broke up into gesticulating groups. He could tell by the arm movements that several of the troops were defending their personal brawling skills but when he switched on the exterior sound systems the only noise was the occasional foot stomp until one of the arguing troops banged a fist into his palm with a resounding clang.