When the Stars Fade (The Gray Wars) (81 page)

             
Two more friendly tanks pushed forward, firing at the offending enemy. Their rounds had more luck, blowing the top clean off the heavy armor. A secondary explosion littered the ground with chunks of black and red debris. But more and more Boxti poured from the carrier, flowing out like a river. Infantry forces rode out on hovering square platforms, firing automatic cannons and rockets. Several smaller, faster vehicles charged the hill where the scouts had set up camp.

             
Lieutenant Gabriel saw the movement and rolled onto his back
.“
Shadow, clear the hill. W
e’
re made
.”
Zev grabbed his gear and bolted, racing back toward the trucks. Enemy rounds ripped into the earth behind him, leaving smoldering craters. The pressure from their impact drove him to his knees, but he popped up quickly and resumed his retreat. He dove inside the vehicle, a young private gunning to engine before Ze
v’
s weight had settled on the seat. The hill fell behind them as the truck raced back toward friendly lines.

             
“A little close, sergeant
?”
Gabriel smiled, taking a swig from his canteen. Overhead, bombers raced toward their targets, dropping salvo after salvo of ground pounding warheads. The vehicle bounced each time an explosion shook the landscape. The LT shouted to the driver
.“
Head to position three. We need to get eyes on the back entrance
.”
He pulled a tablet from beneath the seat, watching the satellite feed.

             
Zev checked his rifle, picking at a clump of dirt with his fingernail
.“
Jesus, how many do you think are still inside
?
”

             
The lieutenant did
n’
t answer at first, just stared out at the burnt skeleton of a forest as the truck raced on. Tree trunks rose from the earth like black spires. Only months before, this had been a lush woodland area, a hotspot for hikers and families. Now, after the army have burned the spores from the land, it was so much ash and kindling
.“
Does
n’
t matter how many they brought. None of them go home
.
”

             
Thunder crashed. Zev looked up, surprised he had
n’
t noticed the dark pillars of storm clouds approach the battlefield. It was just as well, he thought. Maybe it would help wash away the blood.

-                           
VII                            -

February 24, 2237

              The modified Valkyrie bucked and tumbled through the thick turbulence. With each gust of wind, the engines whined in protest and fought to stabilize the descending craft. Rain buffeted the ship from every angle, defying gravity as it rose on strong currents and slammed into the under armor. This was less a ride into battle and more like being in a washing machine.

             
Standing at the center of the passenger area, holding a troop strap for dear life, Josh looked at his assembled squad. The orders to move had come in the middle of the night, as they tried in vain to sleep off the shocking news from the days before. Markov knew there would be resistance to his decision, but the opportunity was too much to resist. After only a few days of fighting, it was painfully obvious that the Terran ground forces were outmatched. With Sash
a’
s urging, the doctor had agreed to send in the Archangels.

             
The stress and anxiety hit everyone differently. Fares and Cho, normally unflappable, had spent the last few days snapping at each other like angry dogs. Dax and Liane barely spoke, each thinking about their loved ones lost on Tallus. Alexa seemed to handle it the best, though  she had started swearing more often than usual. Josh was torn. A part of him had been clamoring to fight every since h
e’
d gotten back to the barracks on Kronos and found a new universe waiting. Another part of him realized that between him and his six friends were thousands of alien foot soldiers. If the reports from the front could be believed, the mixed species of the Boxti troops were a match for even Team Hercules.

             
A sudden jump brought him back to reality. They were clearing the cloud cover, exiting into the skies over the still raging battlefield. The once-green landscape resembled the surface of Luna. Fires burned all around the clearing. The forest on the far side, already scorched, had been leveled by a rolling tank battle that had carried down into the nearby town of Paradise Point. From his perch, Josh could see smoke rising in thick black pillars between high-rises. They were miles above the ground, hidden in the thunderhead and awaiting their deployment order.

             
Dax cleaned and cycled his weapon. Their equipment was all new, experimental rifles and pistols and heavy machineguns. Every soldier carried a katana on their back. It was drawn by reaching under the arm, rather than over the shoulder. This allowed them to carry HALO chutes as well. But all of it paled in comparison to the suits themselves. Josh, Dax and Alexa had gotten a sneak peek back on Omega, but nothing compared to actually wearing them.

             
Markov had been correct in calling them minor augmentations, but had left out the specific details of the suit
s’
make-up. Built of carbon-ring with a diamond-honeycomb frame and CDP sheeting, the armor was nearly impenetrable. Compared to the heavy-plates they were used to, the thirty-pound kits were light as a feather. Each section contained five separate layers of forged metal, divided by folds of ballistic gel. Underneath their suit
s—
either a heavy or light model depending on preference and missio
n—
the soldiers wore KevTek body sleeves with integrated carbon nanoweaves. Every soldier had custom-made gear that fit like a glove.

             
The molded plates and pads were coated in specially-designed paints to deflect heat and laser imaging. Each section fit seamlessly into the next, leaving no vulnerable areas. Joints and flex-spots were covered in triple-woven KevTek, enough to stop conventional rounds. The camouflage pattern was rather basi
c—
they were
n’
t designed for scouting so much as assault wor
k—
but the Archangels all agreed that the armor was damn impressive.

             
But it was in the helmet that the doctor had achieved something genius. Running along the inside of the woven balaclava was a SQUID network, a series of fiber optic cables that connected via the soldier
s’
nanomachines to link them to the sui
t’
s various systems. Satellite comm links using sub-harmonic frequencies allowed the teams to maintain constant communication, even on opposite ends of the planet. The integrated Heads Up Display, or HUD, provided tactical information in real time. It was a self-contained system, allowing work in or out of atmo, with better physical protection than most armored vehicles.

             
Josh had to concede that the gear was well worth the secrecy. Back on Omega, the
y’
d watched a mocked-up armor set take unbelievable punishment from a Mack Daddy, the MKD .80 caliber gatling gun. After a few seconds, most people would be pulp. The suit, amazingly, had held. Josh had chosen the lighter armor, mostly for its low profile. He was still getting used to the added few inches all around his body; h
e’
d banged his head three times coming into the shuttle. Dax was
n’
t having it any easier in his heavy suit. It took Alexa and Josh ten minutes to talk him through the narrow opening.

             
“Two minutes to drop zone
,”
the pilot announced. The soldiers had never met their chauffeur, but h
e’
d set to impressing them early. The
y’
d exited Blue Space outside of the aerial battle, only an hour from the planet. Flying without linkup was incredibly dangerous, as any passing ship could run into them without realizing. The bus driver weaved in and out of still-burning derelicts to hide their signature until they broke atmo. Now, despite the chop, he held them on course for their DZ.

             
Josh slipped his helmet on, pulling it down until the seal snapped shut. For a split second it was pitch black, the only sound his steady breathing. Air rushed in as the atmosphere inside the armor stabilized and the systems activated. The visor depolarized enough for him to see clearly. After a moment, the HUD powered on, the left side of his vision a scrolling list of tasks run by the onboard computer. It took less than seven seconds for his armor to be completely online and link with the MCU inside his body.

             
“Archangels
,”
he said, his voice carried to every earpiece in the shuttle
.“
W
e’
re going with the secondary target. Cloud cove
r’
s pushing friendly air over the canyon. Ground forces are keeping the enemy busy, so we should be able to infiltrate without incident. W
e’
ll set up camp at the tertiary rally point and plan our infil
.
”

             
The soldier
s’
visored faces stared back at him. Despite the armor blocking out any identifying features, Josh knew his team by their body language. Each suit was matte black with red markings, designed to look intimidating. Granted, that was based on human psychology, but Markov had hoped it would translate over to their new threat. Subtle differences in the patterns made each set of armor unique, and the soldiers had already started customizing their new gear. Fares had carved Islamic symbols onto his shoulders and above his visor. Liane scratched Samoan tribal glyphs into her gauntlets.

             
Pierre raised a hand. He was leaning back against the wall of the shuttle, his long rifle resting on his lap. His family crest had been airbrushed onto his shoulder: A simple rosette underneath a silver sword. The same sigil was embossed on the hilt of his katana
.“
Rules of engagement
?
”

             
“Execute with extreme prejudice
.
”

             
The New Eden native nodded. He did
n’
t need to be told twice. Dax leaned forward, sliding a box of ammunition onto his new Ragnarok HMG. He looked more like a mountain than ever in his bulky gear. Liane uncapped the sight on her DSR 520 sniper rifle, wiping the IR lens with a soft cloth from a pouch on her forearm. Alexa cycled and recycled her new assault carbine, the G&R 45. Everyone went through their own personal ritual, whispering prayers or just banging their helmets against the bulkhead.

             
Josh knelt down by Dax, using his carbine to keep his balance
.“
Dax
?
”

             
The massive helmet turned toward the lieutenant
.“
Wha
t’
s up, buddy
?
”

             
“Could you say a prayer? For me
?
”

             
If Dax was smiling, it was lost behind the tinted visor
.“
I do
n’
t know any Jewish prayers, man. Would one of the psalms be okay with you
?
”

             
Josh nodded
.“
Hey, i
t’
s all going to the same guy in the end
.”
He lowered his head and gripped his frien
d’
s gloved hand. When the prayer was finished, Dax gave him a squeeze and helped him stand.

             
A tone sounded inside the cabin and a red light lit up by the open door. The altimeter by the portal read 10,120 m above ground level. Wind pulled at Jos
h’
s body as he inched closer and closer to the edge, supported by the troop straps hanging off the ceiling. He pointed his arm out, palm facing the ceiling.

             
“Stand up
,”
he shouted. The stereophonic microphones on the suit gave him complete auditory awareness, which did
n’
t do anything to alleviate the roar of rushing air. As one, the Archangels stood and shuffled into a tight line. Weapons were strapped tight to chest harnesses to keep them out of the way, and to prevent a rifle butt from cracking someon
e’
s jaw. Josh made a hook with his finger and held it over his head
.“
Hook up
!”
One by one, they attached tethers to a runner overhead. The Phantom Mk II could be activated manually, but Sasha had
n’
t wanted any risk of human error on this, their first real mission. The tow lines would activate the deployment switch at the proper altitude, and the soldiers could glide down under their own stead. Each soldier checked and rechecked the lines and harnesses of the soldier in front of them, making sure the equipment was set and would function properly. Markov had wanted them to try to newer Mark IIIs, but until they could control the jets it was an unnecessary risk.