Legacy earth, p.22
Legacy Earth, page 22
“Copy that,” the others replied.
Lance sped up. Every thirty seconds, he’d add another mile an hour to their speed. His heart rate climbed by five beats per minute as he reached a speed he was comfortable with. The suit smoothed out his movements, making each step feel like he was gliding over the dirt. The scream of aircraft engines filled the air as five flew in a wedged formation low over the water less than a quarter mile out.
The cadet watched in awe as they turned in unison. The lead craft sported an angry bee painted near the cockpit. As one, the crafts ascended into the clouds that lazily hung in the otherwise blue sky.
“Lance, how you feeling up there?” Dexter’s voice crackled through the communication link.
The sound of his colleague brought his attention back to the path ahead of them. The speed indicator blinked at fifteen miles per hour. Lance’s heart jumped into his throat. He’d never maintained a speed like this for more than a few seconds and nearly winding himself.
His heart rate hovered around eighty beats per minute. The green dots of his men remained directly behind him. To his surprise, even the extensive sunburn felt soothed by the suit he wore. Adrenaline surged through the cadet as an uncontrollable laugh bubbled from deep within him.
“Great!” he replied. “How are you all feeling?”
“Like I could do this all day,” Dexter said.
“Metabolically, we likely could,” Michael replied.
“Not hating it,” Seth added.
“If any of you need to slow down, let me know,” Lance re-iterated. “But by my math, if we keep this up, we’ll be done in what? Eight hours?”
“That’s correct,” Michael confirmed. “And I think these suits will allow us to pull something like that off!”
A strange sense of joy flickered within Lance. He maintained his pace, and despite not having breakfast and his stomach growling, he pressed on. The dirt path turned to gravel, then concrete. As they pressed on, several groups of newer and older cadets passed them in their own formations.
The new guys stared in awe at the equipment they were sporting. Lance’s heart rate maxed out at eighty-five beats per minute as the sun rose high in the sky. As they passed their halfway point, the suit’s novelty started to wear off as tedium settled in.
“Anyone brought some good music to listen to?” Lance asked as he moved to the far right side of the path.
“I’ve got some,” Dexter said as he sped up, settling in at Lance’s side.
“No offense, but I don’t think death metal is what he was looking for,” Seth chimed in as he and Michael joined the line.
“I’ve got some classical by a guy named J.T. Music,” Michael added.
“Give it a start,” Lance ordered.
Michael pressed his multi-tool. A hologram flashed in front of him. He pressed a music note and slid a playlist to the emblem of the speaker. The swell at the beginning backed by percussion and string instruments got the squad into a unified running step.
“They call me Commander Shepard. I mess up Reeves whenever they get together. No you never can escape a specter and you can’t get better than my kill/death record. ‘Cause I died once, won’t happen twice, thanks Cerberus, now get a life. This war ain’t just about humans, I’m tryna keep the galaxy from goin’ to ruins!” Michael sang along with the song.
Its title flashed next to Michael’s location indicator as We Are One. Over the next few hours, they continued to listen to that particular station. Lance enjoyed the rhythm of the classical artist, whose music kept the party on pace.
As the sun set, they reached their final mile marker. Lance looked at his multi-tool to see a mute option on the music. Pressing it, he hopped back on the communications.
“Last mile. Who wants to push it, see just how fast these things can get?” he asked.
Like a shot, Dexter pulled ahead of them, peppering the squad with small pebbles kicked up by his feet. Michael and Seth sped up as well. Not being one to be left behind by his own team, Lance picked up the pace. His speed indicator shot up along with his heart rate.
Twenty-five, he caught up to and passed Seth. Thirty-two, Michael fell behind. Lance’s breathing picked up as the world around him blurred. His speedometer was at forty miles an hour and turned red. Focusing on his breathing, the cadet attempted to move even faster. His suit wouldn’t allow it.
The barracks were visible as they rounded the last corner. Lance’s lungs burned. His joints ached and a soreness settled into his muscles as he caught up to the gradually slowing Dexter, who glanced over his shoulder.
“Don’t do it!” he shouted. “Don’t you do it!”
As Lance approached his classmate, who was just to the right of him, the cadet reached out and tapped his larger counterpart on the shoulder.
“On your left!” Lance yelled, passing Dexter.
“OH COME ON!” Dexter shouted in frustration.
Reaching the buildings, Lance slowed down. Coming to a stop, the cadet felt a sharp pain stab at his side. Grunting, he put his hands on his head as the cramp throbbed with each heartbeat. The other three ran to a stop a few feet away from him. Dexter put his hands on his head as well while Seth and Michael were bent over.
“Good run, guys,” Lance said between heavy pants. “Anyone else notice we can’t go over forty miles an hour?”
“Any speed exceeding forty miles an hour without an exo-suit will likely cause irreparable damage,” Michael muttered through his side cramps. “Chapter seventy-six, section five on suit safety. It’ll also only let you maintain a full sprint for sixty seconds before forcing you to slow and recover.”
Lance’s stomach growled loud enough the others heard. They all laughed while walking toward their building.
“Let’s get some grub and study up on what else these things can do,” Lance said as the stitch in his side gradually dissipated.
They entered their barracks, removed their helmets, and all four cadets got enough food to fill up a gorilla. Within a few minutes, it was devoured with their platters cleaned to the point they looked like they hadn’t been used at all.
Taking their gear, they returned to their quarters, got themselves cleaned up, and opened their books. Each cadet took a particular section about their armor. Reading through it, they gave each other presentations on what their particular chapters were on.
After a little over an hour, the price of their all-day run kicked in. Exhaustion wrapped its tendrils around Lance. He fought just to keep his eyes open. With it only being six in the evening, he decided to just take a quick nap. Lying down, he closed his eyes for a split second.
“WAKE UP, MAGGOT!” Foltur’s voice roared like an explosion inches from Lance’s face.
A ringing overcame his left ear as his eyes bolted open. Rolling out of bed, he grabbed the helmet to his suit and stood at attention. The sky was bright with the morning sun. Glancing at his multi-tool, he let out a scoff.
“I’m sorry, sir, I did not mean to sleep for twelve hours!” Lance shouted.
He looked around to see Michael, Seth, and Dexter just rolling out of bed as well. A boisterous laugh erupted from the drill instructor.
“You boys made good time yesterday,” he said. “I hope you’re familiar with your suits’ systems.”
“I think I’ve found some really cool things that may theoretically work,” Michael groaned as he got up.
A deep ache overtook Lance’s legs. Nothing so bad it’d prevent him from walking, but each step reminded him that his lower body was sorely displeased with his treatment of it. All four cadets limped as they followed Foltur out of their sleeping quarters.
The morning was spent learning how to properly integrate weapons systems into the armor and how it could hold them using magnetic anchor points. Most of the weapons automatically paired up with Lance’s HUD, giving the cadet an accurate round count while monitoring the cooling system.
Lance selected to use the HRG as his primary weapon with the Oath Keeper as his secondary. Michael chose an Oath Keeper and shotgun. Seth picked out a sniper rifle and Oath Keeper and Dexter picked up a handheld mini-gun and double shot shotgun.
After lunch, they had another run at the tactical seek and destroy test they’d failed the previous week. Michael turned out to be surprisingly useful with electronics while Seth stayed back with his rifle to provide cover.
Worm opened doors from a distance, allowing Dexter and Lance to clear the rooms quickly and effectively. One by one, they cleared through and took out almost all of the hostiles with each member getting at least one kill. After clearing the last room, Lance looked at his HUD. The map was jammed, preventing him from seeing where any possible hostiles were.
“We’ve taken care of six and cleared the compound. Where are the last two?” Lance asked. “Michael, you think you can get rid of this jammed frequency?”
“I do not,” Michael replied. “BUT I think I can do you one better.”
Michael pressed several buttons on his multi-tool. A hologram hovered a few inches in front of his face. He cycled through his music playlist, selected one of Dexter’s liked songs, and muted the team communications. With a flick of his wrist, the hologram flickered. Worm turned the volume all the way up and his hand hovered over the play button.
“You guys ready?” he asked.
Lance lifted his weapon as he crouched behind a crate.
“Ready,” Lance replied.
Michael hit play. The sounds of heavy metal blaring in someone else’s helmet echoed through the compound as two boxes jostled accompanied with uncomfortable screams. Lance and Dexter opened fire on both boxes. Worm paused the music. The missing enemy cadets rolled out of their ambush spots while whimpering.
“Why would you do that?” they moaned while removing their helmets.
“Fight smarter, not harder,” Lance mused as he offered his team member a thumbs-up.
The walls dropped, allowing the team to move on. Eating dinner, getting cleaned up, then spending a few hours studying. Michael talked about the hidden electronic hacks that they could pull with the tech. Dexter went through how to increase the armor’s hitting power. Seth went over how to calibrate the targeting computer while Lance showed them how to better improve the suit’s overall function.
For the next few days, they continued to train as a team, work out as a team, and even got permission to move their sleeping assignments to sleep as a team. With the assistance of their suits, they bonded as a unit closer than most families, able to read one another like an open book.
As Friday evening rolled around, the final portion of their chapters on their suits was the repair functions. They gathered in a circle and had Michael hack each one of their suits to simulate an out-of-atmosphere breach.
A timer overtook their HUD while they worked on sealing the fake damage. Each team member “died” at least twice before finally being able to execute a proper in-space suit repair. They continued to practice until they couldn’t get the process wrong.
Stephanie, Justin, Amy, and Curtis entered the barracks and climbed in bed, being all that was left with two of the other wannabe pilots D.O.R.ing. They cited Captain Buzzell’s standards impossible to meet. Lance climbed into bed as the last eight of what was once a class of twenty drifted off to their last sleep before their OAT training.
Thirty
Outer Atmosphere Training
Wheeerrrrrooooo! Wheeerrrroooo! Wheeerrroooo!
A deep rumble accompanied by the call of a siren jolted Lance up from a dreamless sleep. Rolling out of bed, he grabbed his helmet and slid it on. Red lights flashed throughout the barracks.
He glanced out the window, no sign of commotion. Crouching, he scuttled across the barracks as the others rolled out of bed. Standing up next to Justin, he grabbed his friend by the collar and pulled him off his bunk.
“Yaahhrgahahahhaah!” The jolt snapped a terrified Justin awake. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”
“Something’s going on; find cover,” Lance ordered.
As the other Marines in training put their helmets on, Lance motioned toward the door.
“What’s going on?” Dexter’s voice cracked through the headset as it connected.
“I don’t know,” Lance replied. “But form up on the door. We’ll clear the hallway and make our way to the range.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Michael said.
Lance remained low as he lined up on the left side of the door with Seth right behind him. Dexter took lead on the right with Worm holding a hand on the large cadet’s shoulder.
“I’m not seeing any movement on my HUD,” Michael whispered.
Lance placed the glass of his helmet against the wall. His heart raced with the heads-up display blinking red that he needed to calm down. Adrenaline surged through his body. He took a deep breath to calm himself and listened. A series of thumps reverberated through his helmet. They grew more intense with each passing second.
“Potential hostiles inbound,” Lance whispered.
Extending his right arm, he took several deep breaths as the thumping grew louder. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed the other cadets all concealed themselves throughout the room.
Lance took a deep breath. He looked at Dexter, pointed at himself, then the cadet. He pumped his hand three times and lunged into the hallway, slamming into the first shadow he came across. Dexter sprang in behind him, tackling the second.
The cadet’s arm kicked as his blade erupted from his multi-tool. Pinning the intruder onto the ground, he placed the tip of his sharpened steel to the figure’s neck. A green blip encompassed Lance’s HUD, followed by a soft beep. The red lights shut off, as did the alarm. When the regular lights flickered back to life, a shock of horror coursed through him.
“Sergeant Foltur?” Lance asked in disbelief.
He pumped his hand three times; the blade retracted. Standing up, he stepped off of his drill instructor before giving the man a hand up. A wheezing laughter seethed up the stairs. Lance turned to see Captain Buzzell in his flight suit, leaning on the stairwell, his body heaving as he tried to hold in his gut-splitting laughter.
The pilot leaned back, tears in his eyes. He took a deep breath as he wiped them away. Waving Dexter back, he assisted Jackson to his feet before approaching Foltur. He crossed his arms and shook his head at the drill instructor.
“You didn’t tell them this was a drill?” Buzz asked between bouts of laughter.
Foltur’s face turned sour. He glared at the pilot before turning his harsh eye to Lance. The cadet could almost see his temperature rising.
“I apologize, sir, I didn’t know it was you!” Lance barked as he stood at attention.
Foltur’s stern face broke as he turned his attention to Seth and Michael, both at the ready with their blades extended as well.
“And if we were intruders, what was your plan?” Foltur asked as he stroked his chin.
“We were going to use the woods for cover and get to the gun range to obtain ordnance to fight off the intruders, sir,” Lance replied, keeping his eyes locked forward. “The armory came to mind first, but any encroaching force would likely hit that first and doesn’t know about the cache at the range.”
“You trained him well,” Buzz mused.
“That’s the thing, I didn’t teach him that,” Foltur replied as his cold demeanor warmed up.
“This is Cadet Lance Warder,” Jackson said as he entered the sleeping quarters.
“Well, that explains it,” Buzz replied before following him.
Foltur entered as well with Lance and the other three Marine cadets following. The young man looked over at Dexter, who grimaced at him. All the other cadets made their way from cover and stood at attention at the foot of their beds.
“Today, we are participating in OATs!” Foltur announced. “Outer atmospheric training. Now, as you are not cleared for space, you pilots will be flying with dampers on your craft to simulate what it’ll be like out there in the void.”
Foltur paced up and down the center of the sleeping quarters like he was known to do.
“This will be a simulated mission where one of our pilots will drop an engineer and our Marines on the outside of a station damaged by the enemy,” Foltur explained while continuing to pace. “Marines, you will escort Sparky here to the damaged area and she will have to fix the problem.”
“Where do the other pilots come in, sir?” Amy asked while still at attention.
“Whoever isn’t accompanying Buzz in the dropship will be in the water with simulated fighters,” Foltur replied. “Your mission is to prevent repairs from taking place by any means necessary. Report to the landing platforms for initiation of OATs.”
Falling into their old formation, the cadets followed their superior officers to the concrete they’d mopped several weeks before. A single dropship sat, powered off before them. A space suit practically made of pockets and gadgets sat on a rack just inside the ship.
“Sparky, suit up,” Foltur ordered.
Stephanie jogged into the ship, grabbed the suit, and stepped out of the view of the others.
“Who’s going to be the drop pilot?” Foltur asked Buzz.
“Justin,” the captain replied. “If he’s in the water, they’ve got no chance at completing their mission.”
“You heard him, Hummingbird. Accompany your CO to the cockpit,” Foltur ordered. “You other pilots go with Jackson to get into your craft.”
“We’re clear!” Stephanie’s voice rang out from inside the ship.
“And you boys load up!” Foltur ordered. “I’ll be monitoring your progress from here.”
The instructor motioned to the spiraled building behind him.
As Jackson led Amy and Curtis toward the water, Justin and Buzz stepped into the loading deck of the ship before climbing the ladder into the cockpit. Lance led his team into the uncomfortable ship.
Nine weapons sat in the on-board rack. Lance grabbed his HRG and Oath Keeper; while picking up a second one, he turned to Stephanie and offered it to her. She took the weapon, slid it into her suit’s thigh holster, and sat down.
