All My Sins Remembered (16 page)

D
eserts can always surprise you.  They aren’t as lifeless as you might think, and only a few are nothing but rolling hills of sand.  Most deserts are made of little vegetation standing alone among small tufts of brown grasses as they send roots down into the earth to cling to it against the winds.  Sometimes there are rolling hills, as there was this night, and off in the distance mountains interrupted the low horizon, soaring high above as if seeking freedom from gravity itself, only to finally end in snow-topped peaks.   Or at least they would have, had it been daylight, but even at night you could see the shadows of the mountains in an eerie relief of the soft pink light cast by the larger of Daroon’s two moons.  A desert night also brought with it more companions than just the nocturnal wildlife.  It brought with it a canopy of stars as far as the eye could see, as well as an opportunity to see Daroon’s moons in all their splendor, one a small moon that shown with a pale yellow light in the distance, and the second a much larger moon that was responsible for casting everything in its pink glow, a product of whatever mineral could be found on the moon’s surface.

Corporal Dorfman couldn’t help but enjoy the view  while he waited, and did so for nearly three hours as he lay motionless
on the ground, his prone, armored form hidden by one of the aforementioned gently rolling hills.  Of course the recon armor's ability to holographically adapt to its surroundings helped tremendously with remaining unseen.  He was the tip of his fire team's diamond formation, with his other fire team members to the left, right, and behind him.  Not close enough so that all would die should one get cratered by something explosive, but not so far away as to be unable to work together as a team.  They had been sent in with the task of eliminating the perimeter guards, and now it was nearing the appointed time.  On his helmet’s HUD, a small, purple holographic display flickered to life, telling Corporal Dorfman that the time to act was upon them.  He released a soft, disappointed sigh as he took his mind off of the beautiful night and mentally brought up a mini topographical map of the area while opening the fire team’s general communications channel.

“It’s time.”  Corporal Dorfman said quietly.  Second
s later came the muffled report of a sniper rifle as his team’s sniper began the task of taking out the patrollers they had scouted out some time ago, thanks to both their own recon as well as a live satellite feed sent to them by way of a highly encrypted data stream from their ship.  Seconds after the first shot, the Corporal heard a second and third shot.  Though the sound didn’t carry far at all, he could hear it clearly, not far to his left.  Three shots, three kills.

“That’s all of them.”  The sniper
reported, his voice cool and controlled.  Corporal Dorfman switched to his command channel and reported all patrollers taken out on the west side of the complex and waited.  Within seconds two similar reports came from fire teams to the south and east, leaving just the guard shack, and the main entrance to secure.  That job fell to Corporal Dorfman’s fire team.

Switching back to the general channel, Dorfman said, “That’s all of them.  On your feet.”  He didn’t bother saying anything else.  The other three in his team
had trained and fought together quite a few times before.  They worked together like gears in a well-oiled machine.  Each person knew what they had to do. 

On the north side of the
base, where the entrance lay, was the guard shack.  It was a modular construct that was most likely dropped in by shuttle.  It was roughly five feet wide and eight feet long, and had a half wall with a metal awning that swung up on hydraulic arms along one side of the guard shack, which could be closed in a firefight or when it was being moved.  In the center of that same side was a turret with a .50 caliber rail gun that was fed by an ammo belt that draped down to a large ammo box on the floor, off to the side.  There was but one entrance, facing towards the makeshift road leading up to the compound so that guards could clear anyone approaching the base.  Opposite the entrance, a small table and two chairs were bolted into the metal floor, and along the side opposite the entrance were a couple of cots likewise bolted into the floor.  Last, but not least, was a small heating and cooling unit built into the back of the guard shack, an attempt to keep it habitable though the hot sun heated it up regardless of the special materials and paint on the shack that worked to deflect, or absorb and nullify, a majority of the sun’s rays.  In many regards, the mercenaries working guard duty in the guard shack viewed it as more a punishment than a duty.  The regrouped recon team now quietly approached the guard shack from the rear, making short work of the guards there with silenced weapons.  Switching to the command channel, Corporal Dorman gave Second Lieutenant Kemai the "all clear."

***

Second Lieutenant Kemai's eyes were closed as he allowed the sounds and sensations of his surroundings wash over him.  In spite of the soft hum of his power suit's environmental control system, a drop of sweat coursed its way down his scalp, making a run down the left side of his face.  Raijan felt the harness inside his power armor, which was lined with sensors that could detect his slightest movement and amplify them through the servos in his armor, which basically made it possible for him to be able to move while inside his armor.  Without the sensors, and the servos to articulate his armor, he would have been like a turtle on its back.  The harness was tight, so the sensors would be pulled snug against his body.

B
eyond the sounds and sensations of his power armor, he heard the powerful, yet muffled hum of the hovercraft's engine, and the friendly back-and-forth banter of the Marines around him.  Taking a deep, calming breath, Raijan let it out with as soft sigh as he finally opened his eyes.  The Marines around him were
Helljumpers
, the Marine squad known for their close quarter combat skill, as well as their skill at space-based boarding actions.  Their first fire team was down a man, having lost corporal Wittaker in combat aboard the Choyo a few days before.  In his place, the newly promoted Corporal Serms lead the team, with Grobnak back in action after the physicians on board
The Black Wave
were able to reconstruct the bones in his arm, and re-grow the musculature needed, after which medical nanites quickly grafted the new parts onto the big man's reconstructed arm bone.  Thanks to the long transit times from Gitmo to Daroon, they looked rested and eager.

The familiarity of having the
Helljumpers
around him was a comfort, for this was his first time commanding a full platoon of Marines, and he was more than a little nervous.  He was also glad that his faceplate was down, obscuring what he imagined was a most shameful expression of fear or nervousness.  He was confident in commanding a smaller unit, but he felt this command was a bit beyond his ability.  He had wanted to refuse the command, but Hawke had once again artfully placed him in a situation in which he had to choose to strech his abilities or bring dishonor on the Colonel by refusing the command.  Raijan always thought it humorous that, in spite of proclaiming not to understand the "insane concept of honor," Colonel Bakore both exhibited such honor in spades, but has also weilded it expertly, which is why he would follow the Colonel anywhere, even to certain death, without hesitation.

Raijan's thoughts were interrupted when a holographic indicator on his helmet's HUD flared to life, indicating a buffered message on his planetside command channel.  Switching to the channel, he heard the "all clear" report from the recon squad assigned to take out the perimeter guards around the complex, and responded by ordering the squad to take up defensive positions around the entrance until he arrived with the rest of the
Marines.  Hearing confirmation of his order, Raijan thumped his armor clad fist against the side of the transport, getting the attention of the driver long enough to signal him to begin their approach.

With a roar, the Firefly surged forward, willing the transport with bangs and rattles as the restraints built into either side of the Firefly strained to hold the armored Marines in place as it quickly
reached speeds in excess of 160KM an hour.  The friendly banter faded as the Helljumpers fell silent and performed final checks on their weapons and mentally prepare themselves for what lay ahead.              A few short minutes passed before the Firefly's interior was lit with a soft red glow, the centuries-old tradition signaling the Marines inside to make final preparations, because the moment of their deployment was imminent.

"Faceplates down, HUD up!"  Yelled Raijan tersely over the squad's com channel.  Following on the heels of his command, the Firefly lurched to a stop and the interior light changed to green.  The rear of the transport fell down, forming a ramp down to the ground as the Marines charged out, forming a perimeter.  Nearby, three other Firefly's similarly disgorged their squads of Marines, one of which was equipped as an engineering squad, with powered armor suited with cutting lasers and of course the new demolotion charges Gordy had rigged on the fly.  The turret gunners on the Firefly's kept a watchful eye on the entrance.  Steeling himself, and swallowing down any remaining fear and nervousness, Raijan was all business as he began barking out orders.

“Engineers, move to breach.  Squads two and three, stack up.”  Raijan briskly ordered.  The team of engineers began moving towards the base entrance.  Raijan tracked their progress, wondering again how effective they would be.  He had never worked with combat engineers before.  The armor for Marine Combat Engineers are a bit different.  For starters, engineers do not carry the GAU-4X cannons typical of a Marine.  Instead, the armor’s right hand was replaced with powerful claws capable of crushing, bending, or otherwise scrapping most known metals.  They are also nasty in close quarters combat.  On the left forearm is mounted another powerful tool, the cutting laser.  The cutting laser is a thin beam, but has a much higher output in the number of mega joules it emits.  This meant that the cutting laser is capable of slicing through nearly a foot of solid metal with surgical precision.  Like the claw, cutting lasers are nasty in close quarters combat.  If consider that engineers routinely carry a variety of other tools for demolition, most notably various forms of explosives, along with the fact that their armor is about an inch or two thicker than the typical Marine’s power armor, you have the recipe for a very nasty, if slightly crazy, Marine Combat Engineer.

“I want everyone to be ready when…”  Raijan’s orders were interrupted when geysers of sand shot up on either side of the base entrance as armored turrets sporting heavy laser cannons sprouted up out of the ground.  Everything seemed to happen at once as the
defensive turrets opened fire at two of the three Fireflies, burning a deep hole in their armor as the turret gunners on board the Fireflies returned fire.  Caught in the open, the engineers charged the defensive turrets rather than falling back to find some cover behind the Fireflies.  Most of the other Marines dropped to a knee and returned fire, or found cover behind the transports.  Raijan and his squad of Helljumpers, led by Sergeant Jeremy Carroway, swung back behind their transport.  Except for Grobnak, who merely growled and fired his heavy laser cannon at one of the defensive turrets, reducing large amounts of its armor to slag.

T
hen the Marines could no longer fire, as combat engineers had reached the defensive turrets.  The turrets, sensing the approaching engineers and identifying them as a higher risk because of their proximity focused their fire on them.  Raijan winced as the heavy laser beams hit the engineers, believing they would be quickly cut apart, but was surprised when their armor accepted the shots as they continued to charge.  As the engineers reached the turrets, the team split, two to a turret, and put their powerful claws and cutting lasers to work, crushing the cannon barrels and cutting through the thick turret armor like a hot knife through butter, gutting the electronics inside.  The turret to the right of the entrance detonated, sending one engineer to the ground, and the other into the air to land with a crash on his back.  After a few moments, both began to stir, much to Raijan’s relief.

“They must be crazy.” Raijan said quietly
to himself, not realizing he was on open coms.   Sergeant Carroway chuckled at his statement.

“They have to be.  They’re Marine Combat Engineers.”  Carroway replied.  Raijan ignored the comment, slightly embarrassed that he had been overheard, and noticed that the team of engineers were back up and working on placing charges
on the base's entrance door without further prompting.  The Marines from squads two and three had regrouped, and were now stacked to either side of the entrance, and within moments Sergeant Carroway reported the engineers ready to detonate the breaching charges.  With a wave from Raijan, the engineers detonated the charges.  The resulting explosion nearly disintegrated the thick door, shattering the center of it into countless pieces, and sending metal shards hurtling through the inside of the room behind it to a chorus of screams as it cut, maimed, and injured the soldiers within the immediate proximity of the door.  The squads, who had already stacked to either side of the entrance, moved quickly inside, firing at any targets of opportunity, followed quickly by Lieutenant Kemai, Sergeant Carroway, and Squad 1.

Just inside the door, Raijan
recognized the loading docks and the elevated office that he had seen in the holographic projection from the intelligence briefing hours before.  Also there was the turret that had been noted by the display, but it was not a flechette gun.  Instead, it was a laser cannon.  Though not as powerful as the turrets outside, it was no less deadly.  The Rejaians loved their lasers, Raijan absently noted, and their technology generally excelled in that area.