Merkiaari Wars: 02 - What Price Honour (33 page)

Rutledge stared at him for a long moment then smiled. “It just so happens that TRS can be taken offline, Recruit, but not by you just yet.” He turned away to address the platoon. “All your systems will be activated and under your control, when you graduate and not before. And yes, your servos remain calibrated in all situations. Your processor never forgets once it has learned something.”

That was good to know. Kate didn’t want to mis-aim her weapon in an unneeded attempt at compensating for full auto.

“Holster your weapons and follow me,” Rutledge said and headed for the exit.

The squad automatically fell into a column of two’s and followed Rutledge into another training area. This one was different. Instead of lanes, a huge area had been set up to provide training in an urban setting. The buildings were only two stories, but the layout was reminiscent of a city block on some Alliance world. Kate could almost believe the buildings were occupied.

“This is where the fun begins,” Rutledge said and picked up a plasma rifle from a rack of them. “Richmond, front and centre.”

“Sir.” Kate double-timed it to the sergeant.

“Do you know how to use one of these?” Rutledge asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re sure? Better examine it,” Rutledge warned and handed it over.

Kate hefted the weight. It was like an old friend. “It seems to be a M18-AP rifle with modified grip. The grenade launcher is unfamiliar to me, but not unlike my old P100. My processor indicates the weapon is assigned to me, sir.”

If the weapon had not been hers, her serial number would have been rejected and her display would have remained dark.

“It seems to be an M18-AP, does it?” Rutledge said and handed her a magazine. “Load and take out that door.” He pointed at a building close by.

“Yes, sir,” she said and fired.

CraAAAAacK!

Her shoulder was throbbing with the recoil but that was nothing compared to the damage she had inflicted on the building. The door was gone—vaporised.

“Maybe I should have told you to set it on minimum.” Rutledge smirked. “What do you think?”

“I think this might look like an M18-AP, sir, but it’s not.”

Rutledge snorted. “Back in line, Richmond, and take that with you. It’s yours.”

“Yes, sir,” Kate said and did as ordered.

Rutledge picked up another rifle from the rack and held it up horizontally before him. “This here, is an M1862-AP assault rifle with integral grenade launcher.” He popped open a hatch cover in the stock. “It uses a pair of standard energy cells, not one, and needs them both. It’s an energy hog, but can fire non-stop for a quarter of an hour on medium settings.” He closed the hatch and opened another on the opposite side. “There is room in the stock to store four spare cells, but I always,
always,
carry some with me on my belt,” he said tapping the single leather case on his left side. “You will notice the General does also.”

“Sarge?”

“What is it Richmond?”

“Where can I get one of those cases?”

Rutledge smiled. “Smithson’s Armoury in Petruso City supplies the regiment with uniforms. They have quite a few odds and ends you might find useful.”

Cragg exchanged a glance with her and nodded almost imperceptibly. The instant they received leave to enter the city, they would go there.

“…our own ammunition,” Rutledge was saying. “A mission can go down the crapper fast. It’s sometimes impossible to anticipate what will happen and you might find yourself using scavenged ammo. Remember this recruits: when using standard ammo, your rifle must, I repeat
must
, be set to fifty percent power or less. If you use any setting above that you will find your ammo cooking off in the barrel. You don’t want that,
believe
me.” Rutledge glared around. “Now then, as Richmond pointed out, it looks like your old M18-AP. It isn’t. The reason it looks so much like your old rifle should be obvious. Richmond?”

“Sir?”

“Why is this here rifle so similar to an M18-AP?”

Not having any idea, she scrambled for an answer. “Because… because the General likes it?”

Her platoon mates laughed, but Rutledge did not. “Very funny. The General does like it as it happens, but that’s beside the point. The Alliance uses millions of M18 pulsers. It’s the standard rifle in our military. The regiment has always lacked numbers, but we make up for it with firepower. The M1862-AP uses the chassis, magazine, barrel, and stock of the standard rifle—the stock is slightly modified to provide extra storage. As I said, it can fire standard ammo in a pinch, but our own ammunition is more effective. The circuitry, coils, and nearly all of the internal components of these rifles are manufactured right here on Snakeholme and assembled into the standard casing. The result, as we all saw, is something other than an M18-AP can produce.”

Rutledge was being conservative. The results Kate had obtained with a single shot was closer to what she would expect from an AAR.

“Sir?” Dolinski said. “What about the launcher?”

“The grenade launcher is exactly what it looks like—a P100. Unlike the P100s you may have used before, this one is integral. That means it doesn’t come off, Gordon, so don’t try.”

Kate laughed along with the others. Gordon was going to be the target for a lot of jokes later today.

“It uses a standard pump action design,” Rutledge went on, “and can be loaded with a maximum of ten grenades. We have a few to choose from; incendiary, high explosive, and fragmentation. Any or all may be loaded in any combination you choose. I prefer using all H.E myself. They’re good for taking out Merki infantry as well as lightly armoured vehicles. Any more questions?”

There were none.

“Right. This one belongs to you, Takeri,” Rutledge said holding the weapon out to her.

Selinia stepped forward to receive her weapon then returned to her position.

“Cragg…”

A few minutes later, the rack was empty. Kate’s platoon was armed and ready for whatever may come.

* * *

Tech Centre, Petruso Base, Snakeholme

Gina smiled and rolled over. She yawned lazily and opened one eye to peer around. She was no longer in the treatment room. She sat up and squinted at the light shining through the window into her room.

Outside, she could see some of the recruits exercising on the parade ground, and beyond them, the mountains she was going to climb with Richmond. She swung her legs out of her rack, but became entangled in the vine-like wiring connecting her to the bedside consol. She started picking irritably at the tape holding the wires and sensors in place, but as she did so, she saw a flash of gold. She stopped and stared at her clenched fist. Slowly she opened it to reveal a weapon’s data bus,
her
data bus.

“Damn me, that was quick,” she mumbled to herself in surprise.

“Actually it wasn’t,” Captain Penleigh said from the open door.

Gina saluted from where she sat in her backless gown. She tried to stand, but she had to take some time to remove the rest of the sensors. She was pleased to note there was no sign of the work carried out on her body. Although her eyes were biomech replacements, she viewed the world as she always had and was relieved. She had passed through enhancement within an eye blink of time. No one said it would be like that. She didn’t feel any different… or did she? She did feel different in one way, but it was a good difference. Gravity no longer dragged at her as it had before. She felt energetic and as light as a feather, as if she could jump into the air and fly away. The gravity of Snakeholme was significantly higher than Earth’s 1g, but she hardly noticed it now.

“Stay there, Gina.” Penleigh stepped further into the room to clear the door.

“But—”

Half a dozen doctors came running in. They were a little upset when they realised why every alarm in the monitoring station was screaming.

“As you were, people,” Penleigh said. “She’s fine. Give the girl a little room to breathe.” He explained the situation, and everyone left with smiles on their faces.

“You said it wasn’t quick, sir,” she said when they were alone again.

“No it wasn’t. You’ve been out of it for quite a while.”

“How long?”

“Almost five weeks.”

“Five
weeks!
” Gina squeaked in shock. “The process is only supposed to take eight days at most.”

“I’m quite aware of that. It seems your old bots didn’t want to leave, Gina. They put up a bit of a fight. No one quite knows why, unless Patel was right. You were close to death when he hit the panic button.”

“I see.”

“Yes… well,” Penleigh said sounding a little put out when she didn’t make a fuss. “Have you ever had Grendel’s Syndrome?”

Gina nodded. “I caught it pretty bad on a training mission. I nearly croaked then too.”

“I’m not surprised, but that episode is probably the reason for this one. It wasn’t in your file, Gina. If it had been, a different batch of stage one bots would have been used. When they started work on you, your old bots attacked as if the intruder was a Grendel virus.”

“How do you know all this?”

Penleigh shrugged and crossed the room to look out the window. “Patel clued me in. He suspected it, but you couldn’t answer when he asked if you had caught it before.” He turned back to regard her. “Nanobots learn from experience, Gina. It’s part of what makes them so good. They knew how to defeat Grendel virus, and went to war in a big way. You went into cardiac arrest more than once.”

Gina shivered at how close she had come to ending her life and career without doing anything with it. Yes, but she hadn’t died and the surgery was now complete. She was a viper; it was time she went to work.

“Can I get out of here, sir?”

“I came to get you.” He pulled open a drawer and handed her a uniform. “You’re a little behind your squadmates, but you’ll catch up. I’ve seen your work remember?”

“How could I forget?” she muttered as she stripped out of the hospital gown and climbed into battle dress. It felt good.

Penleigh handed her a new wristcomp; it looked the same as his. She remembered Richmond playing with hers in the barracks when she came back from her own enhancement. There were a lot of new functions to learn. She strapped it on her wrist.

“Ready?”

Gina glanced around the room and then at him. “I’m ready, sir.”

She decided he looked good in his class-B uniform. He had a lot of colour on his chest, with campaign ribbons speaking of many well known battles. She absently wondered about the missions that weren’t shown. Thurston was not there for instance.

“You said I have squadmates now, sir?” she asked as they made their way outside.

“You and your friends have been assigned to Alpha Company.”

Alpha Company? It didn’t really mean anything to her, not yet, but once she joined her squad and got to know the others, it would begin to mean a lot more. It would be home to Recruit Gina Fuentez, and hopefully it would later become part of her command. She grinned.

“What’s funny, Recruit?” Penleigh said as they left the building.

“Sir, I was thinking how nice it will be when I’m a major, sir.”

Penleigh raised an eyebrow. “Why major and not colonel?”

“Majors have more fun, sir.”

“Don’t be too sure. Stein didn’t enjoy sending people out to fight while he stayed home did he?”

“No, sir, but it seems to me that the 501
^st
does things differently. It’s unlikely we will ever need to send a battalion of vipers to a world like Thurston. Sending a pair of vipers is more likely… in my opinion, sir.”

“You’re right of course, but what makes you think the General would send a major when he has, or will have, a full regiment to choose from?”

That stumped her. Why would Burgton send a major? “He… he would send his best. Surely he would promote on merit, so higher ranks will be sent out more often, sir.”

Penleigh grinned and shook his head. “As it happens, the General does promote using the merit system. He doesn’t like officers who reach high positions through money, or influence, or both. So you’re right up to a point. But again, with a full regiment in mind, he would likely send out different units each time to let them gain experience. Not so?”

Gina nodded glumly.

“Don’t worry about it. You have a lot to learn before graduation. You can worry about promotion later. I told you once that rank isn’t everything.”

“I remember, sir, but I told you it’s a way for me to keep score.”

“We keep score in other ways,” Penleigh said grimly. “Survival is my personal favourite. As in how many times can I go in alone and come back out alive. Stone’s was always how many Merkiaari he could take down, but now,” he shrugged. “Who knows? Rank doesn’t mean much after the first fifty years, Gina, you’ll see.”