Chapter 7

Bill Jenkins' class watched as the marines formed up by squads. They were the seventh group to cycle into the training rotation. Delta Squad stood apart; AS-23 Armored Suits were slowly encapsulating its members. In twenty minutes, the men stood ready. They boarded simulated Ocelot, tactical landing craft. Pop-up displays in the Marines' helmets were tailored to each operator's preferences. Micro speakers near each ear gave an almost realistic imitation and direction of the outside surrounding sounds. With training, operators could have sensor perception beyond that of a marine in Kusari body armor with a standard heads-up display helmet. The ability to access the integrated weapons, coupled with the physical power increase, helped offset any dexterity losses.

"In this initial simulation," Lieutenant Henrique's voice projected across the foyer, "a CTV Kitten has been taken into a Sa'arm bunker." In the air above them, holograms mimicked the action. "The Kitten has remained in contact, allowing for a trace of the tunnel system to its present location. The self-destruct module in the transport pad is non-responsive. Delta squad must retrieve or destroy the Kitten at all costs." The hologram shifted to displaying words. 'Marines – 0-5-1' scrolled over the men in formation. "Only one squad has ever managed to destroy the Kitten, four minutes until you reach the LZ."

"Team Blanc," Sergeant Henri Capoue called. "Team Rouge will be trying to draw the Swarm away." Delta squad's support personnel verified that the acceleration restraints were in place, on the armor. He paused, waiting for the rest of the squad to be secured inside the shuttle. "In three minutes, the Ocelot will land. Two minutes later, we will follow Team Rouge in."

"We shall work under the assumption that our radio transmissions are still undetected." He made the signal to follow his lead with his right hand and arm. "Still, we will use the Commando Hubert hand signals we learned in CECAP."

"Sergeant," Private Zidane gained the NCO's attention. "I was never part of the service."

"Zidane," the sergeant tapped his helmet. "What do you think we have been doing the past three months?"

The helmet hid the private's embarrassment. He resisted sticking out his tongue. The AIs always watched. What made it worse was the old geezer was right.

"Weapons check," called the sergeant.

Zidane followed protocol. The belt feed mechanism checked clear. The power feed to the RL10 on his lap showed green. Five blue dots shined above five green dots and another three red ones. The grenade load showed primed and ready. The wrist bayonets waited for their chance to be deployed.

The lights in the shuttle switched to red. His visor changed to optimal visual scan. A combination of infrared, ultraviolet and the visible spectrum overlaid to produce a visual image. Sonar and radar modes kicked in automatically when the environment changed radically.

"Visual check set." The sergeant tossed a small rubber ball. As it bounced in the cabin, each suit of armor tracked the ball's movement.

The Ocelot lurched. The effects of a massive deceleration pitched everyone against their restraints. "Position three on exit," called Capoue. The side door opened. They fanned out, moving far enough away for the Ocelot to lift. The first team entered. A minute later, Team Blanc followed.

The path way remained clear. Up the walk way with the distinctive woven pattern designed to give the Swarm troopers optimal adhesion. Walls smooth to the touch, polished local stone, an unnamed tombstone for the planet. The track of the first team deviated at the second intersection. The Kitten laid somewhere ahead. Moving quietly, they worked their way up the tunnel. Pairs of men jumped forward to verify that their progress remained undetected. Just what sensors, if any, the Swarm employed continued to be debated. They moved, trying to avoid any visual detection by Swarm forces. Seventeen minutes passed. Jumping from intersection to intersection, they worked deep into the tunnel system. The tension built. Sweat from anticipation beaded on every brow. Sounds of a distant battle drifted through the internal speakers. Sergeant Capoue linked to the status of Team Rouge. He watched the life signs of two of Team Rouge wink away. The activation of the self-destruct component of the suits worn by them came as pressure waves.

Private Evra detected movement up ahead; he stopped and signaled the squad. The Kitten was up ahead about ten meters. Its power signature confirmed the location.

Capoue brought up the imager from Evra's suit. Two Swarm troopers stood facing the Kitten; the rest of the room was empty. The last of Team Rouge was lost. They had to act. He sent Petit up next to Evra. "Petit, the right trooper, Evra the left, Duggary, cover the far door. Zidane, Lloris, our six. I will set a charge." There were quick affirmations of the orders. "Go!"

Two seconds later, the two troopers examining the kitten, each suffered eight-laser blasts. The liquids of their internal fluids, super heated into steam killed them almost immediately. Expanding gasses ripped their heads apart. Capoue had to act as if those troopers removal from the gestalt, had reported his squad's location. He placed two separate devices on the Kitten. The first was a shaped explosive charge designed to eliminate the transporter. It would trigger one of three ways, a timer, a signal from Capoue, or a proximity fuse. On top of the shaped charge, he left a surprise, a fragmentation bounce-and-spit. If disturbed, the device would shower a radius of thirty meters with razor sharp pea-sized shards. Overkill was the best tactic now.