(Sigma Mercenaries, Story 0001, Chapter 09: A Policy of Rest)
(25 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 0500 Hours Local Time)
(Hess' Quarters, Administration Building 4th Floor, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 8 of Campaign)
Toni snapped awake after the gasp at the beginning of some rather creepy instrumental song that was playing through the speakers in the room. Most of Hess' music collection was rather calming and cheery, but he had some songs that were just plain bizarre or something like this that was creepy and strange. (1)
After the creepiness played out, the song switched over to something a lot more upbeat and far less creepier, some song about being someone's inspiration (2). On that, Toni realized she was awake and sat up in bed to survey the area. The first thing that came to mind: "Where's the big guy?" Toni asked after a moment.
"Avoiding work, as ordered," Hess said from the couch to the right of Toni's bed. He was flipping through an entertainment guide for the television and movie services. "Bah. Different dimension, similar inane bullshit on the television. Is there no improvement?"
"What do you consider 'proper' television?" Toni asked blearily, still a bit drowsy from waking up and hence short on tact.
"Historical and Scientific documentaries, music videos, some news programs, some science fiction shows," Hess said. "Of those, probably the music videos are best."
"Not surprising," Toni said as she swung herself out of bed. "Shower recharged?"
"Should be," Hess said.
"Anything I need to know so far?" Toni asked.
"Nothing yet, quiet so far except for the training groups," the big guy said while dialing through music collections in the base servers. "Huh. Hard to go wrong with Iron Maiden."
"You're not right," Toni said tactlessly as she started trudging for the bathroom. The song in question — Fear of the Dark — was kinda catchy to her even if she wasn't much of a fan of the hard rock and hard metal stuff.
Inside the bathroom, Toni yanked her nightgown and tossed it aside, then grabbed up her towel and washcloth. "Virtue, you active?" she asked.
"Always," the artificial intelligence entity said.
"Are the simulation routines set up for today?" Toni asked after she set up the shower temperature to her liking.
"All planned activities are set up and ready. Also, despite his facade of being inactive, Hess has put in his own plans for things to do today as well, which will drive some of the timings back."
"Such as?" Toni asked while she began the process of soaping down.
"Vehicular operations, including the use of firearms while mounted, loading and unloading HMMVW vehicles from the cargo helos, and even an offroad vehicular run. He was a bit nonplussed when I told him that there would be no vehicle tasks or activities in the plan."
"Okay, that's not too bad." Toni had to admit that she could use the learning experience with vehicles just the same.
"The entire operation is scheduled to be recorded by the security systems, so it can be used as both training material and future entertainment."
"Excellent. I want this day remembered, and I want to see it repeated, or something similar, over the coming years," Toni said. "Maybe we can prove to the Boss that he needs to cut loose whenever possible."
"This is bound to be a high-stress duty, especially as the effort expands," Virtue said.
"Well, he has friends, he just needs to lean on us from time to time," Toni grumped. "Why doesn't he?"
"It is usually others that lean on him, Toni," Virtue pointed out. "He is a service professional and specialist. It is his job to help others achieve theirs."
"Oh," Toni said. "Why won't he lean on me, though? I'm here for him."
"You are worried about why he doesn't advance on you?" Virtue asked.
"Hit on me or booty call me would be better phrasings. 'Advance' on me makes it sound like some kind of stalker or military thing." Toni spent a couple minutes under the shower head, rinsing the soap suds off thoroughly. "I mean, I'm pretty sure I've got everything or more than the vapid wenches of his homeworld, and I'm here, they aren't."
"I believe he described it as a matter of appearance, power and wealth on his homeworld, three things that Hess decidedly did not have. Further, persons of his type are deliberately 'background noise', they are not the main operators of a group, their job is to make sure the job gets done."
"No desire for glory, no desire for skirt-chasing, no desire for fame or money, I must be missing something here. What is he after?" Toni asked plaintively.
"I do not know for certain, but I think his main motivation is a sense of justice," Virtue said. "Or, if one would assume that the big guy is not entirely mentally stable, it could be a closeted desire to execute power."
"No, we can bury that thought," Toni said. "The times I've been inside his head, he detests the use of power. Justice is probably the best answer."
"Back on point, if you intend to move forward on Sigma One, it may be you having to make the move. That is, if you want to do so. Chances are, given his predilection toward being the support personnel, he would not do any such thing."
"Ugh, did it again," Toni groused to herself. "Letting my subconscious dictate the rest again."
"And you sound less convinced today that your subconscious is wrong than you did several days prior," Virtue pointed out.
"Thank you, Doctor Virtue," Toni said at her most acidic. She turned the shower head off and pulled her towel to dry off. The AI took that as a cue not to push any harder on the subject. "Do we have any new applicants to the Secret Service group?"
"Not at present," Virtue answered, relieved that Toni changed the subject before things became venomous. "Given the expansion of director-level positions, though, it would be wise to induct some more."
"I was thinking, maybe turn the Secret Service into something of a command-level protection group across the board? Both for the Callsigns and for the high-level combat command personnel."
"Doable, but the more responsibilities that are added, the more personnel are required," Virtue pointed out.
"Right now, we would need security on the Callsigns, the Executor, the Star Colonel, and… anyone else?" she asked as she slipped into her panties.
"Right now, nobody else ranks high enough to warrant a security detail, but that will change soon enough. Clint has already devised a command structure that will allow for several layers of flexibility in the armed forces, and the top two ranks thereof will need security both here and abroad."
Toni slipped her uniform shirt and tucked it into her pants. "Well, I'll worry about headhunting for new Secret Service operators tomorrow. Even if today is about getting the bosses out of the grind, I'm going to enjoy it myself."
The Celestial Phoenix in human form walked toward the door while looking herself over in the mirror to the left. When she opened the door, she was still looking left and did not see the technicians outside the bathroom door. She walked chest-first into the side of a water heater and ended up tripping over the dolley they were using to move it.
-x-x-x-
(25 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 0600 Hours Local Time)
(Mess Hall North, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 8 of Campaign)
"This directionless plan of the fatboy's creation has no place on a broken world such as Terra 232! Any child born in the Star Empires can do something better than this!" Akira said with complete gravitas into a portable speaker system he had bought and set up in the mess hall.
"If this shit keeps up, I may have the first murder charge in Sigma's history, courtesy of gutting that fucking punk and dragging his entrails around behind one of the HEMTT trucks," Jack U. said in a low growl to his buddy Maarten P. The two had met after the evacuation from the Train and quickly struck up a friendship based on love of Gundams and a desire to pilot them for fun and profit. Jack was a Nymph by blood, Maarten a Phoenix in human form, and both were banking on Sigma One given how well he was apparently taking to the nonhumans in the Secret Service group and throughout the Protectorate.
"When that time comes, there will be a waiting line," Ursala T. commented from across the table. She was Human, big, surprisingly hot, and had signed herself up as a Ghost Sniper. She also already had two good face punches to her record against other recruits for their lewd comments to her.
"Now, you all know what kind of governance strategy the fatboy has — none — now, let's discuss his fiscal strategy. He's going to break Star League law by disassembling the Trains in the hopes that the market wants anything to do with illegal materials. The Executors are paying him a piddly little stipend that won't keep the Protectorate above water, and this shit about a Mercenary unit? Who in their right mind would do that?"
Roughly two thirds of the cafeteria raised their hands in response to Akira's broadcast question.
"Bullshit. Why are you gambling your lives for a few bucks? You are better than this! You are sure as hell better than Sigma One!" Akira answered.
"If this guy was lying on the ground on fire, I would not dishonor myself by pissing on him to douse the flames," Dave Girna said adroitly. A couple of the other cadets in the area had a good laugh for the mental imagery involved.
"You and me both, brother," Carlisle P. said. He was signed up with Dave to enter the Helicopter program, which was already active, but they were both stuck in Basic Training Hell until they passed the floor qualifications to enter a specialty.
"This whole charade is financially doomed, the Star League will find a way to quickly quash any hope of profit for Sigma. Only by way of changing course and making amends with the Grand Council do we stand any hope of survival!"
"OI!" Helicopter Cadet Brianna E. shouted, which caught Akira's attention. "Toss me a mike!"
Amado flipped her a microphone, given that this was supposed to be an 'open town hall' and Akira expected to answer some questions. Unfortunately, Akira's off-and-on narcissism would not allow him to anticipate what was coming:
"You have a question?" Akira asked.
"Yes, if this table pooled its money and bought you a bag of dicks, would you suck them?" Brianna asked with a perfectly straight face. After about two seconds to process the shock value of the comment, the mess hall erupted in laughter.
After thirty seconds for the crowd to calm down, Akira turned his microphone back on. "That question is bullshit and insulting, why are you trying to stand up for the fatboy instead of bettering yourself?"
"Because you are bullshit and insulting," Brianna replied immediately. "You're standing up there, whizzing on Sigma One like you have a fucking clue, and you have done nothing to prove you actually know what you're talking about. Your propaganda posters make better toilet paper or pissor targets than they do political material. And the actual votes you put up on the Administration Panel? How fucking juvenile are you?"
"Listen, lady — "
"Shut the fuck up, boy, I'm not done chewing on your sorry ass," Brianna said. "You asked the one question that sinks your campaign first time every time. Who in their right minds wants to be a Mercenary under Sigma One?"
This time, almost every hand in the mess hall came up, many balled into fists, and the guttural cheer from the cadets rattled the windows in the building.
"There's your fucking answer, boy. Hess marched through Hell on Rails to rescue these troops. He's given us all a home, a purpose, and enough ammo to drown a movie star in brass. Most of all, he gives us all hope that we can actually do something worthwhile with our lives. You ain't got shit on that. Now take your scrawny ass on down the way and go find yourself a real job, rather than piss on The Boss."
"Man, this is bullshit, you all know I'm right!" Akira wailed in desperation.
"Here's 20 c-bills, now run along and buy yourself a used dick so you can go fuck yourself," Brianna held up the twenty note to make sure it was visible to Akira. Again, the mess hall had only laughter for the insult delivered with a perfectly straight face to Akira.
"I'm done with this shit," Akira turned off the portable speaker and disconnected it from the wall socket. Brianna tossed the spare microphone back to Amado and sat back down at the table.
"You have my thanks, milady Brianna," Dave Girna said as Akira marched out of the mess hall in a huff. "The roustabout was quickly becoming very annoying."
"Someone had to piss on his parade, might as well be me," Brianna said after she took a bite of her scrambled eggs.
" 'Run along and buy yourself a used dick so you can go fuck yourself'? That is a new one to me," Maarten said.
"I like your style," Jack said. "Blunt, crass, and hard-hitting. We need more ladies like you around where I came from to sort out the arrogant assholes."
"We'll make this shit work just to spite the little buttplugger and his troll crony," Brianna said. "This is our one chance to do it right. I intend to make sure it is done right, got it?"
"With you flying the unfriendly skies, we may yet make this happen," Carlisle P. said from three seats to Brianna's left.
Brianna had no knowledge that she would quickly become a viral sensation amongst the Drill Instructors of the Multimage Empire, who were a very chatty bunch and loved to tell a good story when one cropped up. Doubly so when video was available to circulate.
-x-x-x-
(25 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 0700 Hours Local Time)
(Southern METARgraphic Training Field, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 8 of Campaign)
"This is it," Moira said. "Take a good look around the field, ladies and gentlemen. I have four terrain groups set up, and quite a bit of competition for us all, including the Secret Service troops. And while I may be officiating, I'll also be in on this."
"Nothing like sharing the pain," Toni said wryly, looking around the varied terrain groups already in the METARgraphic sim group.
"Also, more than a few of today's activities involve going off this reservation by vehicle, so be ready for it. Also, the plan for vehicle transport by helo was approved by the flight boss, he intends to get some training time in on that operation as well. Coordinated Operations, such as they were. Hope you're happy, boss, because I've tied this mission in at several levels to both our own activities and that of some of the training groups."
"Oh, nice," Clint said. "What have you signed us up for, Hess?"
"Aerial Transport and Deployment Training. In our HMMVWs. With full combat load, and simulated structure assaults. The integration with the training units is something new to me," Erich admitted candidly.
"Fun!" Clint and Clarence said at the same time.
"Well, we'll deal with it as these things go forward," Moira said. "Especially the training group integration, that will be dependent on specific timing. For now, time to cover the general flow of events. Tablets out," she ordered.
"I like the pretty pictures," Clarence said in a clearly sarcastic voice. "Oh wait, no pictures here."
"Gonna say, doofus," his wife groused.
"Anyway, here's the time allotment and activities to be done." Moira deployed the time list to everyone in the group. "First Terrain set is ready already, we have a jungle walk, shoot house, intermediate range comp shoot, couple unusual terrain sets to clear, then the vehicle for the first road mission is waiting in a structure we have to secure."
"And why are we standing here talking about it? If 'tis to be done, best we get on with it!" Clint said.
"Shouldn't we go through the rest of the briefing?" Victoria asked.
"Nah, not necessary. When we go out into the field, I don't expect full, complete and up front information," Hess said. "All right, what's the method for the Jungle Walk?"
"The process is simple: You move forward toward the structure about a kilometer forward, eliminate all opposition along the way. Nothing serious."
"Any traps, mines, similar?" Clarence asked.
"Should not be, I didn't plan on anything like that. This is supposed to be a more-or-less relaxing thing, at least in relation to the normal duties around here."
"I would count it more as a training day," Sidona said. "And we get to learn from the four Masters themselves."
"Well, put your thinking hats on and get ready for it. Clint, Rasine, Erin, Sapphire, you four have point. Clarence, Lydia, Sidonia, left flank. Victoria, Toni, Leonora, Crystal, right flank. Moira, Asuka, Anastasia, we have the rear."
"Yes sir!" The group immediately shifted around into the formations that Hess had ordered.
"How do we space out? Narrow or wide?" Rasine asked after she formed up at the front.
"Wide, you never want to be close enough that one burst will cook two or more in your stack," Clint said. "The rule of thumb is two meters separation, which makes it difficult for a gunner to walk a short burst across two troopers."
"Got it," she said. "So no crowding any boyfriends hanging around with me on the battlefield?"
"Bad policy. You know someone on the far side of the line is going to have enough of a sense of humor to shoot at the lovebirds," Victoria explained. "Ready to go, Boss."
"Left flank, good to go," Clarence said.
"Forward is cocked and locked," Clint acknowledged after Erin armed her ACR.
"Move out. Keep it steady people, we're not pressed for time," Hess ordered before he brought his ACR up to low ready.
Clarence had to demonstrate the technique for guarding the left flank, whereby he walked forward but his body was leaned left mostly, to allow him easy movement but a clear view and field of fire to his area of responsibility.
The first shots of the walk were Leonora on the right, firing into a metal gong target that rang several times to the impact of the 5.56 rounds. "Got it!"
"And that right there is the point of a Jungle Walk exercise," Hess said. "Move and shoot, put fire on every target you see, make sure you keep your areas cleared, and keep a steady pace."
Eleven Secret Service and four Command Personnel continued forward, doing as Hess instructed. They saw a target, they engaged it on the move — sometimes effectively, sometimes they had to slow it down or stop and brace to make the hits. The Militiamen expected this in all reality — this was really a challenge to persons that weren't as trained as the Kentucky natives, and they would admit that their training was sub-par to military outfits on their homeland.
Moira had not mentioned it, but the video from this take was both recorded and going out live on the feeds around the base. With each ringing target, each silenced theoretical enemy, each lesson handed down from the Militiamen, the personnel that were watching the quasi-training session came to understand better and better that their paymasters were not the pussies that a certain loudmouth claimed them to be.
"One question, and this one applies to all four of the command level, what's your stake in staying in?" Moira asked.
"I'll wager a twenty we each have different answers," Clarence said.
"No way in Hell am I taking that bet," Victoria said.
"I've got point, I'll start," Clint said before he put four rounds into a nearly-unseen gong some 200 meters ahead of the party. "I'm in this because I hate the concept of the Slaver Guild and the high-level concealment they have from the Star League Grand Council. I want asses on pikes for having to drag a lady out of my friend's yard to get her clear of the line of fire from a shit institution like the Trains. Anywhere else I can help, I'm game."
"Clarence?" Moira asked.
"For me, this is the ultimate challenge of mind and purpose," the Business Analyst said. "I'm standing on a wrecked world, trying to build an economy from the ground up and help the world's people to their feet. That's the kind of thing that doesn't happen where I come from, and you want to see a world prosper, it needs an economy."
"Victoria," Moira prompted, knowing this was all being recorded and retransmitted.
Sigma Four fired five shots into a gong while still walking; the gong wasn't visible to the rest of the party for some seconds after the last ring, until they saw it well into the distance on their right. "Mirror to my husband. His challenge is helping the economy, my challenge is helping the people. I marched through a 200-car Train to see what could only be described as post-apocalyptic population, the survivors after their worlds were shattered in one way or another. When I have to choose about going back to a bullshit desk job and doing what I can here, I'll stay where I am and help as many as I can, if they want it, of course."
"Your turn, sir," Moira said to Hess.
While still walking, Hess used his XD Tactical to fire five rounds into a gong that had been bayoneted by the point crew as they passed it. From ten yards, with one hand and no stopping, Erich put all five rounds inside a circle the size of someone's fist. "My point is not any one specific issue. The whole scenario smells of rotten dogshit and political failures. Or is it rotten failures and political dogshit?" Clint, Clarence, Asuka, and Rasine had a quick chuckle for the transposition joke.
-x-
(North Mess Hall)
"Nothing is right about this scenario. The trains, the abandoned planet, the SLGC involvement, there is no one thing in this chain of events that is proper and honorable. When faced with that kind of scenario, a person has two choices: walk away, and forever damn oneself to the failings of your conscience, or stand to the corruptions and dishonor to do something about it."
"Told you the guy has a screw loose," Wheeler said. "This is the 145th Century of the Magi rule, the only people that talk like that are movie characters and the Magi."
"Hush," Alcina chastised the one male cook in their section. "He may not be Magi, but remember: there are always honorable people in Existence. You just have to look real hard to find them." She wagged her finger and the pressed steel ring on it toward the cook, which she really meant her soon-to-be husband by the gesture.
-x-
(North METARgraphic Field)
"When I chose to join the unorganized Militia for Claiborne County, I swore to myself that I would never walk away from a scenario where I could correct dishonorable actions and save lives. That scenario landed in my backyard when Train 523 crashed into my vegetable garden. I geared up, boarded the train, and proceeded to begin saving lives in the way of the Militia: eliminate the threat, extract and defend the threatened."
"Never once did I doubt the guy," Megan Christenson said.
"In another world, he would certainly strive to be a Knight under motivation of that caliber, were he to avoid being soured by the politics inherent to knighthood," Sir Launcelot said with clear approval to voice.
-x-
(Vehicle Hangar LC-47)
"Now I am here, on this planet, and I have an idea what the shores of Hell look like. This is the ultimate scenario of dishonor: a planet abandoned to the failures of politicians, Trains that have been neglected to the point of becoming a wasteland of barely-functioning systems and degenerated transients, and the problems in question extend far beyond those bounds. No properly moral man would turn his back on problems of those caliber, and an honorable leader would certainly not ask the Grand Council, the entity that has spawned this shitstorm, for good graces in cleaning up their own mess."
"FAT BASTARD!" Akira punched the screen on the wall of the vehicle hangar, but the hardened screen did not give or break. "He just called me dishonorable! For suggesting we actually follow the laws of the supreme governing entity in the known universe!"
"He has a point," Amado said. "Not wise to ask the punks that created the problem for forgiveness for trying to clean it up."
-x-
(Jungle Walk Area, southern METARgraphic field)
"I swore to myself that I would not walk away from this kind of problem. I never imagined it would be this insanely fucked up, but I do what I can to correct it. If I did not, I would probably condemn myself for failing to act when I had the chance. Hence, I will do my utmost to solve the ills of this world, or die trying." He raised his ACR and dropped four rounds into a gong that Toni had already drilled three times in passing.
"If I wasn't busy drilling targets, I'd probably be clapping," Anastasia said.
"We're here to make sure you don't die trying, sir," Leonora said.
"Then may we all make sure we're hard enough to get the job done, first time every time, and come home to tell the tale," Sigma One said.
-x-x-x-
(25 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 1000 Hours Local Time)
(Airfield Ramp Area (Helicopter), Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 8 of Campaign)
"Game time, Ladies and genitals," Commander Ellsworthy said. "Our support operation in tandem with the Bosses is not until 1400, and our helicopter escort work is not until 1600, so we've got a few hours to conduct our own maneuvers. That includes underway resupply as well as moving and shooting."
"Doubling up?" Curt asked after he noticed a lack of gunners available — and only two of the four Apache IIM R3 helicopters out on the ramp.
"Correct, since anyone that would make a good gunner trainee is still in Basic right now. That means we're trading off for now, until we have gunners."
"Sorry we're late, sir," three new arrivals said. "Hard to find where exactly we needed to be."
"Understood, don't worry about it, guys." Beck looked back to the other pilots. "These four are from Battle Magic, loaner support troops for underway loading and manning the door guns on the Chinook IIF. I have a feeling, as this thing starts ballooning, we may be bringing you guys in with greater frequency."
"If the price is right, you could probably hire the whole unit," the one guy amongst the three said.
"All right, Katherine, Peggy, you two are in the Chinook, along with the Battle Magic troops. Zoe, you have chopper 2. I'll do chopper one, Curt, you're my gunner for today."
"Time to cause some fireworks," Curt said with a smile.
"No big boomers today. We have full mags for the AP gauss, and each wing has three full 44-rocket pods with RT005 trainer rockets. When we fire them into static targets, you'll get a dust impact. When we fire them into the training fields, though, the computer will score and show the hits more akin to the standard 17-pounder explosive rockets. Of course, we also have the lasers available, so feel free to use those as you deem necessary."
"So we're carrying 264 rockets total, and 40 bursts of AP gauss? And the two lasers?" Wesley asked, a bit shocked. Like Beck, Wesley was an American caught in the wrong place at the right time to be rescued by Hess. Unlike Beck, Wesley was early Vietnam War, a 'Huey' pilot back before they put gratuitous guns on the craft. The Cobra wasn't even an itch in someone's brain-pan before he dropped out (Family Pressure — his parents didn't agree with the war).
"Yeah, welcome to the art of Star Empire Warfare. These frames can tote 12,000 pounds of ordnance in without breaking a sweat, and max out at 24,000. You can literally carry enough rockets on one of these bad boys to kill an entire regiment of troops and have leftovers when you land back at base." Beck paced toward the left a bit. "We're only headed out with slightly more than 7200 pounds, no big deal. Now, remember, when you fire your pods empty, don't drop the pods. The Chinook is carrying a full second load for us, and that is where the Battle Magic girls and guy come in."
"Are we limited to base ops only?" Zoe asked.
"We will be maneuvering outside the box, but at that time we go weapons tight. We have no enemies outside the walls, we are not going to generate enemies outside the walls, follow?"
"Yes sir!" Zoe replied.
"Also, keep your Safe Engagement Systems on. No need to generate friendly fire casualties, the Bosses will probably frown upon that."
"Aye aye, sir," Wesley said.
"Any questions?" Nobody peeped up. "All right, load up and spool up. Time to log some flight hours!"
Beck considered that things were really running on a shoestring budget and short staff when he didn't even have a crew chief to talk to — yet — about his craft's health and readiness before he jumped in. A couple of reps from the Aerospace Company were out as maintenance oversight, but they were depot mechanics and engineers, not field techs and certainly not nominal operations crew.
"Always wondered, sir, what drove the Boss to choose to form up a merc unit?" Curt asked after the canopy closed.
"Not an honest clue, Curt. It isn't a move that makes sense on the face of it, but it does make sense when you consider the two contracts we've already completed. Less than a full hour's worth of time in Indian Country, and they've brought in cash, material, recruits, and props. They pick up a bit of a thicker contract, something that needs our kind of firepower, nets us some serious freaking rewards, we could easily make bank on it."
"You got something in mind, sir?" Curt asked as the fusion engine began spooling up.
"Yeah, blast outta the past from my home. American Revolution. Colonies versus the Brits. What do you think we could do there?" Ellsworthy asked.
"A fucking lot. Exposed infantry, exposed cavalry, artillery that has to be LOS to do a damn bit of good, wooden ships with sails, it would be a nasty shooting gallery for us." Curt was silent for a few seconds. "Oh."
"Oh yes. Some of the bigger battles were 10, 12 kilo troops. It would be chump change for us to hammer flat a quarter of those shits and change the outcome of several battles. Or, if the Americans are really willing to hock it, they can get us in the air and a solid spread of troops on the ground to support their infantry lines. Alternately, they hire us, we go in and we pitch a battle right on top of the Brits when they're in camp or not expecting it."
"Ambush them?" Zoe asked. "Sneaky."
"If it achieves the objectives, more is the better," Ellsworthy said. "I don't like fighting fair and I know for damn sure the Boss doesn't fight fair. The apeshit amount of gear and ammo he carried into the train, that dude was ready for some serious shit as soon as I saw him. If he manages Contracts half as well as he managed clearing the Train, we've got some serious money to make."
"Good. I'd hate to start this, only to get shot down on the first round," Wesley said.
"Eagle Two, reporting ready op," Zoe said.
"Eagle One, Ready Op. Rotate and take her up to 200 meters, we're going to start with some in-real-life maneuver work before we go to guns."
-x-x-x-
(25 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 1230 Hours Local Time)
(Southern METARgraphic Training Field, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 8 of Campaign)
After the shot, a pause of about two seconds ensued before the gong moved in the remote camera views. It was another two seconds before the sound came back to them of steel ringing to the impact.
"That's a hit at a thousand yards," Toni groused. "Call it or beat it, boss?"
"You know I'm not giving up until I can't beat it," Hess said with a smile.
"Send your shot, sir," Toni cleared him to take the shot.
Hess focused on where his crosshairs were hanging over the target, his conscious focused on the aimpoint but his subconscious running the trigger back. The match trigger on his rifle broke clean at 3.5 pounds pressure, with the round going downrange and out of Hess' control after that point. While the others watched the camera feeds for the primary gongs at the main training range brackets, Erich kept his scope focused on the target, until he saw a flash of light — the sight of the gong moving to the impact of the 660-grain match round.
"Hit! Damn good shot!" Moira said.
"Okay, boss, I'm calling it. I probably can make the 1200 shot, but since you've already said you can do 1500 yards, I know you'll eventually zap me one more," Erin said. "I think I have some catching up to do."
"You're not catching up to me, you're fighting yourself," Hess corrected her. "Same for the rest of you. This isn't about who is the best, this is about who is willing to do better."
"So let's throw in a little friendly competition, no?" Leonora said with a smile.
"I sense an anvil incoming," Victoria said.
"I sense embarrassment on the horizon," Jeff Evans declared. He had been absent from the Jungle Walk, due to some issues with one of the articulated dump trucks, but he had joined the other command-level operators shortly thereafter.
"Oh, it would be embarrassing to those who don't stack up in precision. We've seen the Boss and Erin go accurate out to 1100, let's see how well you stack it in precision at 200 yards."
"In," all four of the Sigma Callsigns said at the same time. 'Round Stacking' was one of their personal passtimes.
"Are you sure you want to sign up so quickly?" Leonora said with a chuckle. "I was thinking about making this a dual wager: entry fee is 20 C-bills out of the first paychecks, winner takes all."
"Not bad," Clint said.
"The match is not Sudden Death. Five-round strings; The lower half scores in the match lose one piece of upper-body clothing until you run out. Once you're down to bare chest, you can re-up at ten C-bills, but after that you're wagering lower half clothing. Run out of clothes, and you lose for good."
"Fuck, that might be a bit much," Clarence said.
"Perverted. Sounds fun, I'm in," Jeff said.
"I am game," Victoria said. "I have restrictions, though."
"Oh?" Leonora asked.
"Designated Marksman's rifles, 250 yards," she said. "I figure, if any of us hope to have a chance against Hess, that's where it is going to be."
"Dragunov," Clint said with a smile.
"M25, if you will," Hess said to Rasine, who had ducked out of the competition on the grounds that she knew she wasn't anywhere near good enough to try. "And, we'll put a little stress in this game. Virtue, fire up my hard rock playlist."
-x-
(Northern Cafeteria)
"This is so wrong, but so right," Asuka T. commented dryly. Of course, she did not comment that she would have been right alongside the lot of them, given she grew up on a backwater planet and shooting small game at a long distance was her main method of eating meat in her childhood.
"Sigma One shall clean house," Instructor Bernard said as he passed by the table. "The others in the competition are good, but Hess is on a different page from they."
"This is going to end in awesome, no matter how it ends," MS Pilot Cadet Michiru M. declared. Michiru, Carla, and Yolei were all MS Pilot Cadets, all three were pregnant courtesy of their time on the Train, but Asuka was beginning to suspect that Michiru was not a guy-chaser and that her pregnancy was a forced encounter.
"First round is in," Casta R. reported. "And Hess wins first round handily, five centered right on the 10-ring and border of the bullseye."
"Less than surprising at the top," Instructor Bernard said. "I find the low ends very much surprising, though. I thought the Secret Service group were pretty proficient."
"The main denominator in their group is either Psionics and high weapon evals, like Erin, or Magic Skills," Yolei Z. said. "I was asked by Lydia if I wanted to join, since I am Transcendent and Psionic, but I decided not. I don't think I could defend myself or the ward properly, being about a month from my due date."
"In reality, you should not be here," Instructor Bernard said. "Training is all well and good, but that child needs to be seen to first. You can work your way into the operations after he or she is born. In fact, consider it an order, Yolei. After your meal, report to the Medtechs for official posting for Maternity Leave. I will make sure your training slot is held open until you are ready to resume."
"Next round is up," Asuka the Naval Demolitions Recruit said.
-x-
(5 minutes later)
"That's it for my shooting," Leonora said as she slipped her bra and dropped it on the scope of her M25. "Son of a bitch, the more rounds he throws, the tighter the group gets."
"I had a feeling this was how it was going to go," Sidonia said. "Maybe it is something about his innate strength?"
"Gotta be his patience," Moira said offhand. "He times his shots extremely well, behind any trigger."
"I'm surprised Victoria lost this round to Erin. Not what I was expecting at all," Crystal said.
"And Sig Two and Sig Three are horse-racing right now, though the Boss is still millimeters tighter than both," Leonora said to finish her part of the analysis.
"I knew I wasn't going to get anywhere," Lydia said. By and large, she was the largest of the ladies involved, and she was hands-down the worst shooter on the line.
"Why did you do it?" Crystal asked.
"Thought I had a chance at 250. Guess not," Lydia shrugged her shoulders, which caused her chest to jiggle. Only the Secret Service troops knew that the whole affair was being recorded and probably retransmitted, though they had allowed themselves to forget or didn't care at this point.
-x-
(Barracks A-B-2)
Akira was in the bathroom, puking his guts out after having gone through a fifth of MD in response to the multiple insults from the morning. In this case, though, Amado was not too much inclined to draw Akira's attention to the ongoing competition, since the odds were on Hess to win in the end.
On the other hand, one could only do so much prayer to the Porcelain God before they ran out of prayers, so…
"What the fuck is this?" Akira asked weakly.
"Strip Designated Marksman Rifle Competition," Amado explained.
"Don't tell me this was the fat guy's idea," Akira said.
"Hell no. The lady on the far right came up with the plan. She was DQ'd in the fourth round, they're getting ready to do round five now," Amado explained.
The seven shooters fired five rounds each, going down the line, until the last one of them fired their fifth. After that, the screen shifted to a showing of the seven targets involved, and surprisingly the losers for this round (by a mere two millimeters or less) were Anastasia, Toni, and Victoria. This being Anastasia's third loss, she pulled her bra and dropped it on her scope, though compared to the other contestants she was rather flat-chested.
"Damn, though, that's still coring a man's heart out at that distance," Amado pointed out. "Millimeters of difference between them."
"Did you see the group Hess put up? All five rounds in one hole, and the entire hole wasn't twice the width of one bullet," Akira said. "That's fucking frightening."
-x-
(Rifle Range Simulate)
"Guess my assets aren't remaining hidden for too much longer," Erin said before they hunkered down for the sixth shoot. She was trying for the miracle round, maybe ice Clint or Clarence, but so far it wasn't looking that way. These were shooters that fired well above any level she used to think she played against, and the Boss was surprisingly more proficient than even Moira had guessed.
"Hell with it. I'll shoot the last round, but I'm not going to re-up. I know when I'm hosed, and any of the five of you could do it," Toni said.
"Round six, begin!" Clarence fired first, Clint, Toni, Victoria, Hess, and Erin had the last set. All the shooting was done inside of two minutes, also belying their speed and efficiency.
"That's it for my modesty, and I'm not going to re-up. I may prefer this range of shooting, but I know better than to expect to beat Clint or Clarence, much less the big guy." Victoria dropped her bra on the scope of her m25, stood up, and stretched to work a kink out of her back from the bracing position she had taken at the bench.
Toni joined Victoria after a moment. "Who's it going to be? Clint or Clarence at the last?"
"I'd like to say my husband falls last, but I'll admit that the com-bloc lover with the Dragunov is definitely holding his own right now," Victoria said.
Toni giggled. "I can't believe we volunteered for this."
"I can. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, and it gives me a good idea how far behind the lead I really am," Victoria said with a smile.
-x-
(5 minutes later)
(Northern Mess Hall)
"I'm pretty sure I could beat Hess in a comp like this, but it'd be a horse race, given how tight those groups are," Star Colonel Gail Storme said from the table next to Asuka T.
"No manner of contest here," High Executor Nereus said quickly. "That kind of shooting is insanely far ahead of anything I've ever done."
"This is it, round nine, let's see if Erin holds her own, or if she's disqualified," Michiru said.
"She'll try, but she's playing at the outside of her skill level here. Clarence and Clint are much closer to natural at this range and grouping," Gail said to the closet-lesbian MS cadet.
More than a few persons held their breath during the 45-second interval that the four shooters were firing. Michiru released hers in a bit of an explosive puff after the shooting was done, and the screen went to quad-pane to show the four targets.
"Clarence tosses his dog-tags in, he's done," Nereus said. "And… Looks like Erin knows she is defeated," the High Executor said. Of the ladies involved in the competition, Erin was the only one that used a front-close bra and had the easiest time removing it to drop on the scope.
"Down to the Dragunov versus the M25," Star Colonel Storme said. "Oh man, this could get tricky. Both of them are shooting groups that are sub-MOSLN," she said.
"MOSLN? Never heard that acronym," Asuka T. said.
"You know what Minute of Angle is, right? One inch at a hundred yards?" Asuka nodded to the Star Colonel. "MOS is a backwoods term, meaning Minute of Squirrel, whereby a weapon can reliably hit a squirrel at that range. MOSLN is amped up accuracy well beyond that — Minute of Squirrel's Left Nut. You get down to MOSLN competitions, you're measuring how tight you're stacking rounds in the same hole."
-x-
(3 minutes later)
"Round eleven, the Boss has all his clothes, Clint is down to his tags. Who shall win?" Clint said in an overly dramatic fashion.
"Quit undressing that target with your scope reticle, Clint," Hess said.
"Yeah, yeah," Clint griped. He fired his five, then pulled the magazine from the Dragunov. "Beat it, boss."
"With a stout stick? Gladly." Hess braced, regulated his breathing, and began his fire run. One shot, two, three, four, five, and Erich pulled the bolt open to lock it in place. "Virtue, results?"
"Clint accuracy, all five in the X. Erich accuracy, all five in the X. Clint Precision, 1.38 width of one bullet. Erich precision, 1.22 width of one bullet. Sigma One wins."
"Damn, that's freaking awesome," Moira said.
"You win, big guy, good game," Clint said.
"Going to survey your victories, boss?" Leonora asked.
"I've seen each of those victories as they happened," Hess said without looking from the target range. "For you, Leonora, it may have been about the stripping part. For myself, it was about the shooting part. I will admit the eye candy in the peripheral vision was worth the competition run nonetheless, but I was in it to see where everyone's rifle skills stacked."
"Oh, so he was paying attention!" Moira said.
"He doesn't miss much, I can guarantee that," Toni said drolly.
"All right, everyone, comp's over. Let's get dressed and head down to the vehicle bay so we can get a ride to one of the mess halls," Hess ordered.
-x-x-x-
(25 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 1330 Hours Local Time)
(Northern METARgraphic Training Field, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 8 of Campaign)
"Do it again, guys," Megan Christenson ordered of her unit.
"10-4, skipper," Pete F. groused as he flexed his shoulders.
Clint had trained the Rail Guard units to always move with four persons in a group — that way, when doing deliberate searches of the seat cars, one would stand to the left, one would stand to the right, and two would advance up the center aisle until the train floor was cleared. With nine persons in each rail team, that made for two teams — one for a bottom floor, one for the top floor — and the element leader.
Clint had also ordered today as a stand-down day to allow the troops to rest before the test tomorrow. Megan was not allowing her team to stand down, because she wasn't convinced they were ready. So far, the results of their extended training were proving her right.
On the other hand, Megan had the difficulty amplified up well above the level of the testing protocols — she was running the troops through almost at realistic levels, which for the purpose of the training was not bad results given the challenge. Every time her men went in, she saw results that were not matching what she wanted to see, but Megan did not realize that she was stacking her greenhorn volunteers against the Kentucky Militiamen and not getting comparable results.
In comparison to the tests, her troops would pass readily, she just didn't think they would.
"This is beating the hell out of us, chief," Carl O. said after he sat down on a stool outside the simulated train cars.
"He's right, ma'am," Ikuno said. "I understand you want to push for the top, but we've already beat the test protocols by a fair margin."
Scarlet flopped down on the bench with near zero grace. "I dunno if we'll beat Launcelot's team, and at this point I don't really care. Between the past several days of training, my aching back, and my numb arms, I'm ready to throw in the freaking towel. They can have the first Train Clear, give me a hot tub and a couple good guys to have some fun with, I'll be happy. Worry about the freaking paycheck later."
"What about you, Quintin?" Megan asked.
"I go where you tell me, boss, but I ain't going in alone," Quintin said. "I could stand a run through a hot tub right now, myself."
"Man, the pervert has infected the entire unit after that strip shoot-ex the Bosses just ran," Megan said with her forehead cradled in hand.
"The Boss covered that already," Curt said, then held up one finger to count off the points. "One, Clint ordered us to stand down, but here we are, breaking our backs for fame, fortune, and glory." A second finger came up. "Two, I remember the Boss saying somewhere that it isn't worth it to bury or destroy your humanity for the paycheck."
"I must've missed that one," Megan said. "And point three?"
"Sometimes you just have to kick back and let Wee Willy do the talking, rather than Mister Big Bad UMP40," Curt said. "Like Quintin said, I'll go where you order, but I ain't going alone."
Megan looked at the bench with the four exhausted greenhorns, looked to the simulated train, then looked back to her personnel.
"Ah, fuck it. Win or lose, we're here to stay. Virtue, set up an indoor recreation center, pool, hot tubs, similar. Pre-order swimwear for my troops and myself, to be deployed from one of the ScrapNet interfaces when we get back to Admin."
"Setting up patterns now, order placed and on standby," Virtue reported.
Megan tripped her radio. "Pete, Megan. Abort and bring it in. Change of plans."
The troops were fairly quick to drop out of the train simulate, given that they were in a car that had a side door to escape easily.
"What's up, chief?" Pete asked as his troops approached and cleared their weapons.
"I just realized what kind of a bitch I've been about this," Megan said. "You eight should not be caught in the pissing match between myself and Sir Launcelot."
"We're not objecting to being in the middle of this, Megan," Camille said defensively. "We're just exhausted and sore."
"Facility setup is partially complete," Virtue said. "By the time you return with your change of clothes, it will be entirely readied."
-x-
(20 minutes later, simulated locker room)
Megan slipped her bikini top down and settled it. "This feels weird. Whenever I did the beach at Corpus Christi, I always wore a one-piece."
"You can find one-piece designs, but they're usually part of the school gym uniform for swimming classes," Ikuno said. "It's a philosophy thing amongst the Magi. If you're out in public, like a water park or a beach, you're playing for points and it's no credit for a one-piece except outside of certain designs."
Megan laughed at Ikuno's explanation. "And I figured, after 14,000 years amongst the stars, humanity would be over the vanity of sizing each other up!"
"Oh jeez, not happening," Camille said. "If anything, the competition only gets thicker the farther you go down the timeline. Genetic modification, cosmetic alteration, human or related, there are many paths to a beauty pageant and every one of them is exploited for fun and profit." She finished settling her bikini top and stretched. "Hate to say this, boss, but here in about four months, I'm going to be out of work."
"Sooner than that," Megan said. "I'd give you a month on the outside, maybe two weeks before you need to hang up the armor and arms. You're, what, four months out from due?"
"Little more," Camille said. "It's a hard thing to wake up in a strange bed with a strange guy because you needed to do it to survive on the Trains. It's a harder thing to realize two months later, that encounter just jump-started your family aspirations."
"Agreed," Scarlet said. She was not quite as far along as Camille, but still a bit noticeable.
"We won't be hurting for work, with over a hundred thousand trains to clear," Megan said. "And the Boss is a nice guy, despite his taking part in such a raunchy shoot exercise. He's highly unlikely to hold it against us."
"We ready?" Ikuno asked.
"Forward, ye troops!" Megan pointed to the door. "Time to cut loose!"
-x-x-x-
(25 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 1415 Hours Local Time)
(Southern METARgraphic Training Field, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 8 of Campaign)
Unlike the static shooting competition from lunchtime, the present drilling was open field with assorted barriers and cover for the troops to hide behind. This was a lot less controlled and static than the shooting range approach, but far more realistic. Not even the dumbest of enemies would be so kind as to stack up in front of a benchrest shelter so snipers could drill them at leisure.
"Okay, here's the drill," Moira said. "You have 100 meters to close. You have three steel targets, two silhouette you approach, you are to knock down all three of the steel targets before you reach the yellow line. Once you cross the yellow line, you are to transition to your pistol, fire five into the first silhouette, reload, and fire no less than three into the second silhouette. Questions?"
"Single or team drill?" Asuka asked.
"Single, why?" Moira asked.
"Because the boss showed me a trick that relies a bit more on teamwork, and makes shooting potentially more accurate."
Moira snorted. "And this is a team sport how?"
"Because the shooter braces on the shoulder of the assistant, creating a more stable firing base than just shooting offhand," Asuka said deadpan.
"She has a point," Victoria said. "If I had to choose between offhand and standing braced, I'd choose the standing braced."
"I can see where this would also go damn well with the Armored Infantry," Clint said. "Take an Armored Infantryman, shield forward, guarding hard, and stack four or five unarmored infantry behind him or her, with the lead two braced off the Armor."
Moira gaped. "You two, actually… did?" she asked after a few moments, waving her finger back and forth between Asuka and Erich.
"Made a standing 200-meter shot with a UMP40 somewhat doable, without having to throw ordinance from Hell to Breakfast in the hopes that some of it lands on target," Erich said matter-of-factly. "Picked it up from old war footage, and modified it for use by the Militia."
"Okay, this I have to see. Since you've done it already, you get to demonstrate," Moira said before she cleared the field to allow Hess and Asuka to step forward.
"I'll do one of the steel and one of the silhouettes," Asuka said before she loaded up a magazine and dropped the bolt on her ACR into battery (3). "You do the rest, sir,"
"Roger," Erich said calmly. "At your option."
Asuka reached out for Hess' back, specifically for the right-side water bladder pouch and the loose MOLLE weave on it. She hooked two fingers in the MOLLE loops quickly, slacked out all muscle tension in it except for her thumb, and stuck the thumb out to the side for use as a rest. Her ACR came up, dropped on her thumb, and braced it against Hess' right bicep, in essence a barrier brace by way of using Sigma One as the barrier. With the rifle tucked in and stabilized, Asuka fired one burst into the steel plate, two bursts into the silhouette, and ejected her magazine.
As the smaller Secret Service officer moved forward while reloading, Hess did the same process himself but modified for being quite a bit taller than Asuka. He hunched down a bit, put his left hand on her right shoulder, and braced the ACR between two fingers on her shoulder. Once he hunkered down to achieve proper sight alignment, he dumped five bursts of rounds into the targets inside of three seconds — both steel targets dropped from the first two bursts, and he landed the remaining nine rounds inside the 9-ring of the second silhouette target.
"Okay, that definitely validated my concept," Clint said. "Standing behind an Armored Infantryman, marching forward through no-man's land, spitting fire at whoever pops their head up, that's gonna be a bitch to counter for low-tech troops and impossible for non-firearm troops."
"Add something like armor or Mechanized Infantry to the equation, maybe some air support, you've got one hellish operations plan," Clarence said.
"We'd really need an Armored Infantryman to do some testing," Clint said. "I want to see it in action before we made it a codified plan. Might have to make it a 1-to-1 troop ratio, or may have to introduce larger shields or something like that," he mused.
"This just totally defeated the purpose of this exercise," Moira commented dryly.
"Oh hell yes it did, but I think this is a bit more fun," Leonora said with a smile. "Besides, it helps us getting used to shooting in close proximity to each other."
"Best laid plans, nuked by an unexpected angle," Hess said to Moira as a couple other pairs tried the braced shooting drill or variations. "That said, this is solid training. The only time I would expect we would be in battle individually is if we are ambushed in some fashion. Any kind of prepared scenario, we would be best operating in pairs or fire teams. Pairs at the minimum."
"True," Moira conceded. "Still, I did go to a degree of trouble setting this up," and she waved her arm at the course feebly.
"The specific course may be unused, but the training experience is not," Hess said.
"Where did you derive something like this?" Moira asked after watching Erin and Toni take a couple turns doing the team fire drill.
"I derived it from a combination of two sources. First, it is part of a basic training drill involving firing from a barrier situation. Second, the use of other troops as a firing platform I derived from video of troops in combat during World War II. The Waffen-SS had a technique whereby two troopers would use a light machine gun, one trooper on the trigger, the other holding the bipod with the gun over his shoulder."
"That's wild, never heard of that," Moira said.
"It's also structurally deficient," Hess said. "The guy holding the bipod would have to use his arm musculature to do the job, which is anatomically inefficient. By using the shoulder, not the arms and hands, you get better stability," Sigma One pointed out. "That said, you get better stability by bracing a bipod or handguard on a solid object, like a barrel," and Erich pointed to a barrel that was part of the initial shoot course.
"Good point," Clint said as he approached. "Ripping off the SS again, big guy?"
"Might as well. They did it right, we can do it better," Sigma One said.
Hess had no idea that the off-the-cuff phrase he just dropped would become something of a mantra in the Protectorate in coming months.
-x-x-x-
(25 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 1500 Hours Local Time)
(Mayor's Office, Mayville, Northern Continent, Terra 232)
(Day 8 of Campaign)
Vash The Stampede figured that Mayville may have been the first stop of many, but this town would be the case that made or broke Sigma's attempt to resettle the world in a peaceable manner. If this worked, Sigma ran a very good chance of being able to convert most towns and rural areas without firing a shot. If it failed, Sigma would probably have to retake the planet by force, an ugly result the whole way around.
And it was entirely up to Vash, Millie, and Meryl to make it happen, one way or the other.
"You have had a day to see around town," the mayor of Mayville said to Vash. "What are your thoughts?"
"Very quiet," Vash said immediately. "Quieter than I expected."
"Much greener than the world we came from," Meryl continued after Vash.
"Very friendly, neighborly," Millie said. "I would not mind living here, actually."
"Good answers, as that is what we are aiming for in this town," Mayor Zeke said as he paced behind his desk. "Since the early days the Star League reigned over this planet, Mayville has been the first stop for civilians coming into Boarhound, and the last stop for people headed out by the starport at Boarhound. We work hard to make this place peaceful and friendly, even if the countryside is not. Since the last troops pulled out and dominion ended, we've been trying hard to keep things normal, but we could certainly use a little law and order in the countryside to make things easier."
"Sigma One is a bit of an unusual guy in those regards," Meryl said. "He does not tolerate criminals under most circumstances, but he is also not one for major government presence. You have heard of the Magi?"
The Mayor snorted. "Everyone has heard of the Magi. Are you suggesting he intends to follow their model?"
"With a twist," Meryl said. "The Magi use direct voting and execution by the military. The Protectorate of Sigma uses direct voting with execution by the Militia, the Military, or Specialist Groups, depending on the purpose and region the votes encompass. The policing presence is Militia, and major threats can be dealt with by the Protectorate forces or the Mercenary Unit as needed."
"And what about our existing law enforcement? We have a Sheriff and four deputies right now."
"They can fold into the Militia or join the full Protectorate forces or Mercenaries," Meryl countered deftly. "It is also possible that local law enforcement may simply continue, in addition to the formation of a Militia force. Law Enforcement isn't the largest concern on the docket for Sigma, but if what has been said around town is true, it will very quickly become the largest concern."
"If Sigma is going to do so by Magi law enforcement standards, they will probably do the right thing," the Mayor said. "Now, second question raised to me, what kind of taxation structure will we be operating under?"
"Two percent sales and consumptions tax only," Millie said, given that such was her favored part of living under the Protectorate.
The Mayor gagged. "Two percent? That is all? His taxes are less than Magi taxes!"
"He's an American," Vash said. "And apparently a very strange American, to boot. He has some pretty weird ideas about how government is supposed to work. And the Mercenaries will be bringing in a lot of revenue, so…"
"Ah, I follow. The local taxes pay for local infrastructure and services, the major government projects are financed through the proceeds of the mercenary unit. Awesome, finally we aren't paying the salaries of useless bureaucrats." The mayor sighed. "I was hoping the Magi would take over the planet after the Star League self-evicted, this may be better still."
"It is definitely going to be interesting," Vash said. "Do you have any major concerns right now?"
"I have heard helicopters in the air. Yesterday, today, and I think today's flights were combat helos. If we are to be part of the Protectorate, can we get on-call helo support for when we are raided? Or in the case of medical evacuations?"
"We can ask, certainly," Meryl said. "Millie, the radio?"
"Oh, sure," Millie picked up the radio pack and handed it to Meryl. "Mister Vash should make this call."
"Will do," Vash said with a sigh. He picked up the receiver and dialed it to the command frequency listed on the side panel of the radio pack. "Sigma One from Ambassador One, come in," he prompted.
"Ambassador One, Sigma Command reads five by five. Go ahead," a voice said on the far end of the line between bursts of gunfire. Vash recognized it as the voice of Toni, not the voice of the Boss or one of the other Sigma Callsigns.
"Ambassador is relaying question from Mayor of Mayville, is it possible to provide on-demand helicopter support to the city in the event of medical or combat emergencies?"
The return sound from the far side of the radio link was gunfire, briefly, before it cut out again. "Ambassador One, Sigma One Actual, please advise the Mayor that we can provide air support to his town, but right now we only have two crewed combat helicopters and one crewed transport helicopter. I cannot guarantee anything specific for response times or effectiveness of response."
"Better than I ever expected. Can he supply a radio and charger? At least until we have telecommunication services restored out to here," the Mayor asked.
"Mayor understands and welcomes it, Sigma One. Can someone deliver a radio out here for use in communications?" Vash asked.
"10-4, I will bring a radio out tomorrow when I deliver your wheels for the trip to your next town, Ambassador One," Sigma One declared. "Anything else required your location at this time?" His request was accompanied by a pair of short bursts of automatic fire.
"Not at this time. Ambassador One is out." Vash switched off the radio pack. "Must be doing some hard training today."
"I heard one of the Secret Service ladies talking about a full-day shoot competition and training series for the command level, so…" Millie said.
"Nothing new for them, this is a weekly occurrence for the American Militiamen," Meryl brushed it off. "Now, let's talk commerce, shall we?" she segued into another vital topic.
Meryl may have brushed off the training, but the Mayor considered that a serious topic, and proof that Sigma was dedicated at a level the Star League was not. The sound of a few bursts of ACR in the background of a radio call would go a long way to cementing Sigma's position as an actual Protectorate, as it would give hundreds of mayors around the world comfort knowing that Sigma was actually training to protect.
-x-x-x-
(25 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 1500 Hours Local Time)
(Southern METARgraphic Training Field, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 8 of Campaign)
"This is where the serious lead goes downrange," Clarence said.
"Ma Deuce," Clint kissed his fingers, then tapped them on the receiver of the venerable M2 Heavy MG. "It'll do anything short of an APC, reliably, and it can reach out to over a mile distance in the right hands."
"And I see you brought out the Ion Cannon as well," Toni said, looking at the table with a couple other 'interesting items'.
"And a couple LMGs, and an old M79. Something is coming to mind," Sidonia said, with a show of considering it. "Ah, yes! The eternal lament! Boys and their toys, the older they get, the more expensive they get!"
"God's honest truth," Clint admitted. "It's why I rock the Kalashnikov, it's firepower with budget ammo."
"PKP," Moira lifted up the muzzle of said light machine gun.
"Wood," Clint admitted.
"All right, before you get to bogarting the belt for the PKP, keep in mind that this is not an extended date with one system," Hess said to Sigma Two. "This is for familiarization with the weapon systems and types — you can play with the goods after we capture them in contract or you buy them with your salary, follow?" Sigma One laid out the policy going forward.
"Aye, aye," Clint said. "Still, it's a PKP Pecheneg, these things are in frontline service in the mideast right now. And this is the real deal version, with the fire selector, not a civilian knock-off like my RPK/S at home."
"Relax your flagpole a bit and get used to the thought, Clint," Clarence said. "You're in the freakin' army now, son. Sigma's freakin' army. There will be flying lead."
"Lots of it, which is why the Basic training groups start early and practice often with firearms," Toni said, given that Erich had explained to her in length what his philosophy was for the carrying, ownership, and use of arms.
"All right, what we will do is take turns on a per-system basis," Hess said. "And, we're also supposed to have a fly-by or two from the helo teams, so we can work on radio calls for fire direction later in this drill. Did I get the plan right?" Sigma One asked Moira.
"Exactly," Moira said. "We'll start with the PKP, because Clint won't let it go until he's had some fun with it," the black dragon in human form said with a mischievous smile.
"With pleasure," Clint said as he brought the PKP forward with a box of ammo for it. The weapon, dry, weighed in at 20 pounds, and the ammo box for it (100 rounds 7.62x54R continuous feed linked) weighed another ten pounds, making for a rather heavy combined system. In practice, the Russians classified the PK series of machine guns as 'medium machine guns', not light weapons.
He fed in the belt on the right side of the gun, popped open the top cover, emplaced the first round, and dropped the cover to ready it. A pull on the charge handle on the right and the gun was ready to go. "I'm gonna enjoy this," Clint said.
"I get the feeling I know where this is going," Clarence said.
"Ten-four," Hess replied, given he could guess where Clint would take this run.
"Eyes and ears, people. This is gonna be a loud bitch." Clint gave them five seconds to get geared up before he cradled in the stock and sighted up the first human analog simulate for shooting. The burst went wide right and high, which result surprised Clint, briefly, until he checked the sights and saw they were improperly set by some joker at the manufacturing plant. His second burst was on target and tore serious chunks out of the simulated person. "Epic face."
"Oh God," Victoria said.
Another burst of fire, this time into a target at 100 meters. "Epic face," Clint said.
"Told ya," Clarence said.
"I have no idea," Toni groused.
A third burst went downrange, this one into a target at 150 meters. "Epic face," Clint said with a bit of a rise in his voice.
"You'll know soon enough," Hess said with complete gravity.
Burst four contacted a target dummy simulate at 175 yards. "Epic face!" Clint said with a weird stress to voice.
"This one's it," Victoria groused.
"More is the better," Clarence complained.
A fifth burst went downrange, and at least two of the rounds hit the target in the head, leaving long blood streaks down the front of the simulate. "Jizz in my pants," Clint completed the joke.
Toni groaned. "I can't believe he said that," she bemoaned.
"I can," Victoria said deadpan.
"Who's next?" Clint said as he stood up from the bench.
"Wipe the stock and receiver off, then go change your skivvies. Don't want you stinkin' up my fun house," Hess played off the joke that Clint started. Unbeknownst to the Callsigns, a goodly portion of the people on base had a good laugh at the joke series.
-x-
"Sigma Command, Eagle One, requesting vector to fire support operation," Commander Ellsworthy requested.
"Eagle One, Sigma One, vector helos attack direction west, danger close, target package multiple BMP-1 AIFV, requesting rockets and lasers. How copy?"
"Good copy Sigma One, two birds rolling in now. ETA 20 seconds," Ellsworthy said. "That was surprisingly understandable," Beck said.
"At least it gives us an idea what Sigma One is asking for," Curt said. "Rockets and lasers are ready."
"We're coming up on the target here shortly. We'll hit and run, simulating how we would do the job in a real engagement against com-bloc forces."
"Got it, sir," Curt answered. "Targeting system has lock, five seconds to optimal shoot position."
Once the helos reached the proper engagement range and location, Curt let loose with a dozen of his training rockets into the target field simulated by the Secret Service team. In a real shooting scenario, Curt figured he would be using the heavier ATGM weapons for threats like this, but rockets were a perfectly viable weapon for lighter IFV vehicles using the right rockets. The HE-frag rockets would do the job, but a more assured kill would be to use the MPSM (cluster-bomb) rockets against light armor such as this.
Eagle 2 loosed roughly the same amount of rockets into a different part of the target field as the two helos continued onward toward the engagement theater (the training field). Though simulated weapons effects were provided for and seen on the ground (and hence in their flight recorders), the actual rockets were RT-005 inert trainer rockets, which were essentially a 12-pound aluminum cap on the nose of a standard Hydra-70 rocket motor. The METARgraphic field would 'absorb' the rockets and catch them in a reusable state below ground, but the visible effect courtesy of the holographic systems would be the actual weapons effects of a 17-pound explosive-tipped rocket.
After the simulated blasts, Curt swept over the battlefield and applied his chin turret ER Medium Lasers to a pair of BMP-1 AIFV units in the back of the enemy column, creating a fire trap for the ground troops to exploit with their Ion Cannon. "Got six of them on that run!"
"Not bad shooting, Tex," Beck Ellsworthy said. "You just knocked out two platoons of Mechanized Infantry. Add in what Eagle Two just did, you have a dead company of enemy troops and Bimps," the Gulf War veteran said. "Total cost to the Mercenary Unit: around 3000 c-bills worth of real rockets and maintenance time. Without remorse, just achieved ten times the lethality of a single Hellfire, at a fifth of the acquisition cost."
"Eagle Lead, Sigma Lead, count ten dead and two crippled on that pass. Hat tip to your gunners, Ellsworthy, Sigma has the rest," Hess reported from the ground.
"Serious, sir? Those twenty-someodd rockets cost less than a fifth of a Hellfire? How much do those things cost?" Curt asked.
"Dead serious, Curt," Beck answered. "Hellfires are nice and sexy, have a great standoff range, and the power to punch through most Main Battle Tanks from any direction of attack. The downside is the acquisition cost: per unit for the United States, each missile was 80,000. For Sigma, our acquisition cost is only 15,000 for the bog-standard laser-designated version, and 17,500 for the Longbow Hellfires. If we invest in the upgraded Magi-production Hellfire IIM Block 7 missiles, you're talking a per-unit cost of 20,000 a missile."
"Holy shit," Curt groused.
"Yeah, son, those rockets become a much more deployable solution when you get down to counting the beans. A full-up 44-rocket pod of the enhanced multipurpose submunition rockets — the most expensive model of Hydra-70 — is still not even 10,000 c-bills including pod, assembly, and attachment to our craft. And you can kill a fuck-ton more tangos with 44 rockets than you can one Hellfire."
"The lasers are better still," Hess said by radio.
"Left my radio switch on, sorry," Beck said sheepishly.
"Anyway, one shot of laser comes out to roughly five c-bills counting energy, weapon maintenance, and crew time, assuming you use each laser on your craft twenty-five times a month. Use the laser more, you get more bang for the buck," Hess concluded the thought. "Still, I'm not a tightwad. You have a mission, you carry the right munitions for the mission. We worry about counting those beans only after you men come home alive."
"Ten-four, sir," Commander Ellsworthy said. "Eagle Team, rolling out for maneuvers. Have a good day, Sigma One." Beck switched off the external radio.
"That's not what I was expecting to hear, all things considered," Curt said.
"Now you know why I'm all too willing to follow this guy. We'll have to account for unreasonable munitions use, but he's willing to finance the whoopass to get the job done. If we play it smart, everyone gets paid well and we get to save lives wherever we go."
-x-x-x-
(25 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 1715 Hours Local Time)
(Railhead Undercroft, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 8 of Campaign)
In terms of complex hardware, the Rail Beacons were two parts 'black magic tech' and five parts 'dead simple tech'.
The 'Black Magic Tech' was, oddly enough, the part that Luna had to worry about the least. In years past, he had submitted the designs for his Beacon Controller to Xigon Systems, who archived the design for use by the Magi once the Star League hurdles had been overcome. With the coming of Sigma and their special commission, Xigon was all too willing to produce the controller components at cost for the use in the new Rail Head Beacons.
The controller consisted of a hard-use computer system, a dimensional beacon modulator, wiring and power systems for those components. Each Beacon Controller routed to a central command mainframe, which just happened to be an unused mainframe in the Boarhound Server System. Virtue did the control for the beacon units when she was not controlling other base functions.
The five parts 'dead simple tech' were where 98 percent of the labor involved in setting up the Beacons really were. Where the controllers were built into a wall opposite the rail heads, with a cable trough run across the titanocrete floor of the platforms over to where the rails terminated, the actual beacon antenna was run down the center of the rail lines and ran a long distance down those rails. The antenna consisted of a series of 2" steel square tubes with suspended and insulated 1" steel pipe inside that, with a long coaxial cable loop running down the center of the 1 inch steel pipe. The steel square tube and steel pipe were all mechanically joined with brackets and bolts to create a series of nested antennas that could reach out and guide a train to their location passively.
When modulated with a hyperspace signal from the controllers, the three-phase antenna set could reach across a wide swath of dimensions to guide a train to the proper orientation, location, altitude, and rotational velocity to match the arrival location in the railhead undercroft of Boarhound. Essentially, the assembly formed an overlarge hyperspace coaxial antenna array.
Assembling each beacon required time and heavy equipment, due to the sheer weight of each part they had to work with, and required some brains to make sure one was doing it in a logical fashion: inside-out, to make sure everything was done right.
"Fish line!" Luna shouted, which was a mnemonic to the rest of the crew. The wire fish line ran back to the controllers, so once all the pipe segments were laid, it was easy for them to simply pull the coax cable loop through to the controllers. Luna did this part, he pulled the end of the fish line out of the end of the existing antenna pipes, fed it into the new antenna section, and hand-fed it through until the fish hook came out the far end of the new antenna section.
"Fish line!" Karin half-shouted once she caught sight of it.
"Round pipe!" Luna said, reminding the two workers of the order of operations.
"Round pipe!" Karin and Melissa echoed back. After the next-to-last section of antenna was in place, the first thing was joining the round pipe to the prior section of round pipe (the middle layer of three). The round pipe of the add-on section was pulled out by all three using pliers (it could free-slide inside the insulation in the square tube), positioned, and bracketed in place by Karin. Four self-tapping bolts secured it from side to side to the prior antenna length.
"Round pipe laid in!" Karin reported.
"Square pipe!" Luna said.
"Square pipe, aye sir!" again, two used large channel-lock pliers to pull it into place to where it could be bracketed and bolted to the existing antenna, though a third person used a large prybar from the far side to finishing wedging the square pipe into place.
Melissa did this part, where she placed a bracket, then used a hammer drill to drive in four self-tapping machine screws. The entire assembly was stainless steel, so corrosion was unlikely and the assembly would last hundreds of years — Luna's expectation on how long it would be for the Trains to be all captured.
"Square pipe!" she shouted.
"Next pipe," Luna said, though this one with some less enthusiasm.
"Sir, we're out," Melissa said after she climbed up. "All we have is the coax cable and the end cap."
Luna looked at Melissa, then to the antenna pipe between his legs, then back to Melissa, then to the flatbed truck they had been using for this job. "Are you sure?" Luna asked after a few seconds of silence.
"Serious," Melissa said.
Luna hopped up on the platform between the Beacon 1 and Beacon 2 Rail Lines, then looked down into the rail bed for Beacon 1. True to Melissa's word, the first Rail Beacon terminated right where they had finished assembly of the new beacon antenna. "Son of a bitch! I thought we had another dozen sections to go!"
"Nope, we're lucky there," Karin said.
"Cable time. Who wants to wind in the fish line, and who wants to handle the cable guiding?"
"I have the cable, and since you have the most lower arm strength from meat beating, you're on the fish tape crank," Melissa said.
Luna deflated. "Not fooling you, am I?" he asked.
"Fuck no, sir," Melissa said. "On the other hand, if you're looking for a lady crazy enough to fly, you're on the right planet."
"Don't have a clue what I really want in a lady," Luna said. "I can say, my last three marriages all fell apart in about two months each."
"He will figure it out, eventually," Karin said, deliberately speaking of their CO in the third.
"Right, right," Luna took several minutes to hike down the way toward the fish tape crank, which allowed Karin and Melissa enough time to get the coax spool in place for the run.
The process involved in running the coax part of the antenna was the more challenging but the theoretically fastest step of running the antenna. The Coax Cable itself was suspended in a 1" hollow sheath to keep it centered in the center of the round pipe, which is centered in the middle of the 2" square tubing, creating a harmonic alignment.
With the end of the fish hook hanging out the pipe, Melissa simply hooked it onto the business end of the coax cable, taped it into place, and waved for Luna to begin. The remainder of her involvement was making sure the cable didn't snag and come free of the fish tape.
-x-
(20 minutes later)
"Okay, we are connected to the coax, inner pipe, and outer square tube. All joints double-checked, we are good to go!"
"Moment of truth," Karin said. "Melissa, if you will?"
"Three, two, one, now!" Melissa threw the breaker for the beacon to apply power. As soon as it contacted, all the systems came live and began connecting to the mainframe controller.
Thirty seconds later: "Confirmed, good connection to the controller," Virtue reported. "Powering the Antenna Module now, standby." Another gap of thirty seconds, then: "Antenna module reports proper resistance and signals detected, it is active."
"Yes!" Luna shouted with both fists up in the air.
Before he could lower his arms, a Jumper Train appeared in the rail bed with a massive clatter of iron wheels against steel rails.
"And no!" Luna shouted after the echoes of the arrival ended.
"Well, there you freaking go," Karin said after a few moments, looking at the number plate for the train. "Virtue, Beacon Team, please report to the boss that we now have Train 133628 in the undercroft."
"I have already taken control of the engine system on the train and locked it out. Train Length reported is 1300 cars, with 10 visible right now," Virtue said by way of their tablet speakers.
-x-
(same time)
(Southern METARgraphic field)
"I know this is something you said you would shoot me for if I ever did it, but fuck the rulebook, I want to see if this is any manner of useful."
"What?" Erich asked Clint.
Clint leaned backwards, legs out of position, torso out of position, facing a an eighth away from proper alignment on the target, and brought his pistol up sideways. "Wait a second, if I'm going to do this, best do it completely wrong." His left hand went down for the classic crotch grab, bringing him into full form for a ghetto shooting style.
Hess snorted. "Fire at will," he said after a moment.
Clint fired five rounds in six seconds, with only two hits achieved and one of them nonfatal.
"He went full retard," Clarence said.
"Now you know why you never go full retard," Victoria said. "Anatomically and ergonomically, there is precisely not a damn thing proper about doing the ghetto blaster. Most guns have their sights engineered on the top of the weapon for a reason, and this is why," Victoria highlighted the two hits on the target for the benefit of the Secret Service troops. "Never go full retard."
"Mandatory retraining for anyone I catch doing the ghetto blaster under any actual combat circumstance. Now, Clint, demonstrate proper one-hand shooting, please," Hess said sternly.
"Aye, sir," Clint said with full seriousness. This time, he squared up to the target, leaned forward a hair, put his left hand behind himself to take it out of the action, and his right arm came up with the gun at a 75 degree angle inward toward his body. "This is the anatomically correct one hand shooting posture. National match may be straight vertical, but your body absorbs the recoil best from 60 degrees to 80 degrees. Observe."
Clint fired five shots in four seconds, this time with four lethal and one severely incapacitating. His shoulder did most of the movement, his arm and wrist comparatively less so long as he held the angle properly.
"And that is how it is done," Clint said before he holstered his sidearm.
"Sorry to intrude, sir, but the railhead has a situation," Virtue said by way of the range loudspeakers.
"Listening," Hess answered.
"Train 133628 has arrived in the undercroft during a test of the second rail beacon," Virtue explained.
"Well, there's your proof that the damn thing works as advertised," Victoria said.
"So now what? Do we go in?" Toni asked.
"Clint, the Rail Guard teams?" Hess asked Sigma Two.
"I have something in mind, Chief, no need to worry. Virtue, inform the Magi troops to keep guard on it, we will begin processing both trains tomorrow."
"Understood," Virtue said.
-x-x-x-
(25 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 1830 Hours Local Time)
(Helicopter Pads, Runway Area, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 8 of Campaign)
"This is so weird," Erin said as she slowly guided the HMMVW into the helo by driving it backwards.
"You are doing perfectly fine," Hess encouraged her. "Just keep going back, and keep it straight. Your alignment is spot on."
The Secret Service officer continued backing up, slowly, until she was signaled to stop by one of the Battle Magic support operators. Once stopped, she put the vehicle in park and applied the parking brake, so the vehicle was unlikely to go anywhere without some serious problems to the craft causing gravity to intervene.
Erin's HMMVW was the last one into the cargo bay of the chassis, making for a bit of a tight fit but still perfectly workable. The doors to the Helo rear closed up, leaving a bare person's width between her front bumper and the hatch.
"This is one way to go totally mobile across shit terrain," Clint said by radio.
"True, very much true," Moira said.
"All right, passengers, make sure your seat belts are buckled and tray tables are in the upright position," Katherine E. ordered from the cockpit. "Flight time is 120 seconds to destination."
"Apache escorts?" Hess asked.
"Apaches are flying close sweep, and you have ground troops awaiting support at this time," Peggy V. reported from the copilot seat.
"Listen up, people! We have a situation on the ground. Trainee troops have secured a LZ at the muster grounds in front of Admin, we are to depart chopper and pick up six exterior ride-alongs for each vehicle. We will drive to the Western METARgraphic field, where we will provide heavy fire cover and breaching for entry teams to enter and clear. When Building One is breached, our vehicles will pick up a squad of troops and we will report to Building Two for a breach and clear of our own. Follow?"
"Roger that," Clarence said from the number three vehicle.
"Good to go, chief," Clint said.
"Sixty seconds! Orange smoke at the Admin building!" Katherine announced.
"Once we touch down, the Apaches are to move forward along our drive route to sweep, then clear the rooftops of any tangos and hold for final protective fire."
"Game time, guys! This is the culmination of the day's training and activities!" Victoria shouted in giddiness.
"Thirty seconds! We're rotating for landing now!" The Helicopter began turning and shifting to drop down at the programmed landing area.
"Foot on the brakes, unlock your parking brake," Hess ordered of Erin.
"On it, sir!"
"Moira, get up on the Ma Deuce and use it for what it's worth," Hess continued. "Game time!"
Moira climbed up into the turret ring and charged the M2 Heavy MG for use by pulling back on the charging handle twice. By the time everything was good to go, the back door to the helo had opened up to allow the 9 tons of HMMVW and passengers out into the evening air.
The whole chopper jolted once it landed and settled. "We're down!" Peggy announced.
"Go go go!" Hess ordered. "Stop on flare 1 so we can pick up our chalk!" (4)
-x-
The first HMMVW rolled up and stopped immediately over the road flare. "Go time! Our ride's here!" Trainee Bradford E. shouted.
"Climb on and hold on!" the passenger shouted. Calliope gulped against an instant surge of dread when she realized the person in the passenger seat was none other than Sigma One. "Move it up! Daylight's burnin' hard!"
"Yessir!" Calliope responded automatically before she jumped up and grabbed a hold on the grab bar above the door with her left hand. Her left foot found a purchase on the runner bars below the door, and her right arm was left free to use her rifle as needed (which was grossly unprofessional but for the purpose of this exercise was doable).
"Six up!" Bradford slapped the top of the HMMVW twice, and the driver (one of the Secret Service ladies) put some speed on.
Calliope weighed the possibility of offending the Boss by saying something about the shoot-ex that had resulted in most of the Secret Service being shirtless, but decided that anyone with such a sense of humor to participate in it to begin with was unlikely to be offended. "Awesome shooting at the sniper comp, sir! Where did you learn to do that?"
"Years of practice — you guys saw that?" Hess asked.
"Yes sir! It was on the monitors in the cafeteria, my liege. I won twenty C-bills on the match."
Sigma One simply chuckled. "Don't know what Leonora was trying to accomplish, but at least it provided some good television."
"Sigma Command, Eagle One, reporting multiple rooftop hostiles have been cleared. Ingress is clear, target area is hot buildings only."
"Eagle One, Sigma One Actual, good copy. Hold position for final protective fire, we are 30 seconds out," Hess said. "Cadet, when the vehicle stops, drop off and go to ground a pace to the right," Hess ordered.
"Will do sir!" Calliope ordered.
Twenty seconds of driving was all too fast to Calliope, and before she could properly process what was going on, the three vehicles had veered into the training area and came to an abrupt halt in front of the training building. Another squad was holding a perimeter around the building, intermittently firing on pop-up targets that simulated the appearance of enemies in the windows.
"Moira! Support fire on those windows! Clint, deploy AT4 against door! Infantry, prepare to breach, bang, and clear!"
Calliope barely saw the rocket fired by Sigma Two before it exploded against the door of the simulated structure. "Breached! switching to guns!"
Sigma One climbed out of the passenger side of the vehicle, braced a sub-machinegun against the frame of the door that was still open, and fired two bursts into the doorway at what appeared to be armed persons on the inside.
"Vehicle one, accompanying infantry! Enter and clear!" Instructor Vanessa ordered by shout. "Vehicles 2 and 3, move to Building 2 and make entry!"
"That's us! Stack, bang it and clear it! Move!" Hess shouted.
Calliope fell in behind Sigma One automatically, never realizing that she was cutting into place for one of the Secret Service operators. She did fall in behind Hess smartly, her rifle aimed past his right arm while he covered mostly left and the top floors. the greenhorn was a bit surprised that once or twice he fired short bursts of SMG into second-story windows without stopping, and the ringing sound of steel belied hits even while he was marching forward.
At the door, Hess stopped before he ran into the wall, released his UMP40 to swing, and pulled something off the front of his vest. Calliope belatedly realized it might be a grenade, before Hess corrected her thought process. "Bang out!" Sigma One shouted a moment before it blew. The blast was sharp and loud, not dull and throbbing like a fragmentation grenade, and was a wholly new experience to Calliope.
True to form, the blast and flash was a bit disorienting, but Calliope was ready for it. She maintained grip on Hess' belt until they had to split for the room clear, but once the one remaining human analog target was perforated, she formed back up on Sigma One.
-x-
"Two elements right, two elements forward, one element with me, remainder go upstairs," Hess ordered by radio. "Moira, check fire heavy MG, we are inside."
"Weapon safed," a lady's voice responded.
"Cadet, on me," Hess ordered.
"Calliope, sir," she offered her name.
"Roger," he said. The door here was locked, but a sledgehammer was waiting, so Hess picked it up. "Breaching!" he shouted before he slammed the door immediately below the doorknob. One heavy blow caused it to fly wildly open, and with it Sigma One rotated out of the line of fire to allow the remainder of his element to enter properly.
Calliope found herself first of three headed inside, though Sigma One formed up at the end fast enough. Being the first, she immediately went left and engaged a target (human analog simulate) holding a light machine gun. Four rounds into the chest and the threat was silenced. With that immediate tango down, she began clearing the room from left corner to left far corner to right far corner, and ended up dual-engaging a target in the far corner with one of the Secret Service operators (Erin, if she remembered correctly, the last lady holdout in the shooting match.)
"Stack on next," Hess said quietly on the radio. This was an open door, blasted open by heavy machine gun fire, so there was no need for the sledge to kick it loose. Calliope fell in behind Sigma One immediately and gave him a slight heel-palm to the back of his armor to signal ready.
Sigma One moved in and immediately went left, then began sweeping clockwise to clear the room. Calliope went right and began her sweep counter-clockwise to clear. A short burst from the sub-machinegun carried by Sigma One perforated and caused a large splat of blood on the one target dummy in the room.
"Room clear!" Hess shouted.
"Entry team on Building One, be advised that all rooms have been cleared. Good work, team."
"Put 'em on safe and let 'em hang, we're done here," Hess said.
"The Instructors weren't bullshiiting us, you really do know how to clear a room, shoot straight on the fly, put down precision fire, are you sure you weren't military?" Strategic Commander Cadet Cyrus A. asked after he pulled his headphones.
"Yes and no, amigo," Sigma One replied. "I was Militia in my homeland, but for an American, Militia means one step above the average law enforcement officer and one step below police tactical units."
"As far as the training groups are concerned, the only problem the Sigma Commanders have are being out of shape — and that only a problem in two cases of four," Instructor Vanessa said. "If he was up on the training block right now, the only thing that would hold back Sigma One is his size, if you'll excuse my being blunt about it, sir," she said.
"No apology needed, it is a battle I have been waging for a decade," Hess said candidly. "Doing better this week than the past month, I daresay."
For part of the team, that Sigma One even deigned to join the exercise put him in their favor as a 'royal who did a real job'. For the others, that Hess was every bit as lethal as was told, especially under pressure, created favor. In the case of Calliope, who was over-large of her own right but in excellent shape, the fact that he admitted to fighting his size changed her opinion of him to someone far more approachable and human than he had appeared when she first saw him in the Train.
She would not admit it until later, but Calliope's decision to sign up for the Secret Service was because of this training drill. It would be her magical talent, her overall weapons skills, and her willingness to work hard at it that earned her position in months to come.
-x-x-x-
(25 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 2245 Hours Local Time)
(Barracks E-D-2, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 8 of Campaign)
Dave Girna stopped at the barracks restroom to whizz, which he expected. Before setting out on a major quest, his father had warned him to always take a good piss, or a dump if possible, just to make sure. After all, nothing could break the tempo of a stealth infiltration faster than having to drop a pile of shit in the enemy encampment or having to whizz while scaling the side of a castle wall.
The process was simple. Dave would scale the relatively easy angled surface of the administration building using a skillset that was commonly known as Parkour — using free-running techniques to achieve the shortest and least expected route over obstacles to get to where he needed to be. The objective in this case was the fourth floor of the Administration Building, and by his security analysis of the various administration buildings throughout the Terra 232 command, there was no way whatsoever to simply enter the building like a normal person and not get caught.
On the other hand, the sensor systems on the outside of the Admin Building were not all that impressive. Several good blindspots and a complete lack of vertical scalar sensors made getting up to the 4th floor balcony dead simple, and once at the balcony, it would be dead simple to simply bypass most of the security cameras in the halls to get to the objective — Sigma One's quarters.
Once he was finished whizzing, Dave pulled down his balaclava, cinched down the velcro on his climbing gloves, and checked to make sure his climbing boots were good and tight.
Game time.
-x-
Dave Girna was not counting on one thing, though.
Sigma One had decided he would finish unwinding this evening by way of reviewing the footage and results of the strip sniper drill from the afternoon. (Hess had said it wasn't about the cash, the stripping, or the competition, it was about the skills involved for everyone involved, and he had been entirely truthful about it. On the other hand, being an average American, he would not pass up good eye candy when available, even if it was after the fact.)
"Hess, Virtue, we have a situation," the AI said through his tablet speaker just before Round Three kicked off in review.
Erich cleared the tablet and sat it down. "Go," he said.
"We have an infiltrator." His tablet lit up with a night vision view from one of the Calliope Turrets on the heavy wall, looking at the Admin Building, and zoomed in on a black-clad figure that was climbing up the outside. "I have reason to suspect this guy is seeking to infiltrate your quarters."
"Toni, check 'em," Hess said reflexively to the Secret Service officer lying on the couch to relax.
"What? You knew?" Toni asked in shock.
"I wasn't going to say anything, given your digging was innocuous and for reassurance of my motives, but now's an opportune time to use it for security purposes," Hess said.
"I knew your mind was too mobile to get away with it," she groused. "Okay, got him, and yeah. Dave Girna, aiming to infiltrate your room. He just wants to talk, I guess, but doesn't want to make it a formal request."
"Nothing hostile?" Hess requested.
"Nope, not hostile at all," Toni confirmed. "He isn't even armed."
"I think we'll play this one to the hilt. Sapphire, in here!" Hess shouted at the door, or more specifically at the door guard.
The door popped open. "Sir?" the door guard for the day asked.
"We have incoming, and we're going to give him a surprise party. Virtue, dim the lights in the halls to 10 percent, dim the lights in here to same, and be ready to kill them five seconds before Dave gets to the door."
"Done," Virtue said.
"Toni, bathroom door. Sapphire, my desk, aimpoint on the door. I'll hold to the side of the door and give him a deuce-dropper. Virtue, inform the other Callsigns and Secret Service of the situation."
-x-
Dave had little trouble getting up to the balcony, and the doors were neither alarmed nor heavily secured. He would certainly have to warn Sigma One about these lapses of physical security after the discussion was done, if for no other reason than to provide a bonafide that Dave's intentions were entirely on the level, even if his methods were a bit direct.
Inside the balcony doors, a short causeway led to the main halls around the rooms for the command section. Here, Dave used a dental mirror he had found discarded in one of the barracks to peek around the corner and catch sight of the camera. It was moving faster than he expected, but it paused at the end of its arc facing away from him. Dave rotated the dental mirror around to check the other camera and saw the camera was unlit, which meant it was not powered.
Girna made a quick dash for the central corridor, then moved down the hall until he could check the cross-hall with the mirror. There was one roving Secret Service operator, walking away from him, two intersections to his right, so he was clear there. Another quick dash put him physically at the west side of the quarters for Sigma One.
The camera on the far wall was unpowered, likely needed replacing, and there was no door guard at Sigma One's quarters. Dave considered that highly strange, but not entirely impossible. There was only eleven Secret Service troops, all ladies, and a total of seven persons for them to guard. Likely, their efforts were mostly expended on day-to-day bodyguard work, not sentry postings.
Girna moved quietly around the corner and up to the door, then silently cursed his luck. It was an electronic lock system, not a mechanical one, so breaching it would be a factor of luck — press button, hope for the best. Surprisingly, the door opened up after he pressed the green button, and revealed a completely darked out room beyond it. Even the light from the hallway didn't reveal much of the inside except the presence of a large table in the center of the room.
Nothing ventured, Dave ordered himself mentally. He paced into the room, moving slowly to make sure he did not disturb anything, and after two paces the door closed behind him, leaving him in a pitch-dark room. Oh shit, now I can see nothing, Dave thought.
CLANG, Dave heard the sound of a pistol's slide dropping into battery, from behind him and to the right several paces. He stopped immediately and raised his hands in surrender, knowing clearly that he had walked into an ambush.
-x-
After the mystery figure entered the room, and the door closed, Hess decided it was time to spring the trap / object lesson. He dropped the slide on his pistol while aiming roughly where he had last seen the tango.
Erich could barely see movement consistent with the tango raising his hands. "Before you start shooting, I should say that I hold no ill intentions and am completely unarmed."
"It is good that the Secret Service knows this already, otherwise you would have been arrested or shot before you made it to this door," Hess said. "Lights, quarter lumens, up slow."
The application of light made the complete ambush visible and rather shocking. "How did you know — I chose my path carefully to avoid the security systems!"
"And you did," Toni said from the bathroom door, her ACR at low ready for this engagement. "Virtue, center monitor, please."
The monitor in question played through the footage of Dave scaling the outside of the Command Center as seen through the Calliope Turret due west of the building. "You were very good at dodging the visual security sensors, but you failed to account for the optics on the defensive turrets, cadet Girna," the AI said. "Additionally, your choice of clothing purchases, study of the administration buildings, and extensive infiltration planning for the other bases on planet tipped me off to a possible future action here in Boarhound."
"Ah, thoroughly busted before I began," Dave Girna admitted. "And ambushed in place. The rumors are not rumors, but reality."
-x-
In his peripheral vision, Dave could see Sigma One lower his pistol and drop the magazine, then eject the round out of the chamber and caught it in hand. "So, this is a bit much for just a 'hello' tour of the command level. You're here for a purpose. Grab a seat, cadet, time for a quick chat off the books."
Dave hesitated for a moment, but sighed relief once the lady at the desk set her rifle down. He moved to the nearest chair at the table and took a seat, to which he could sense more than hear Toni closed up and stood behind him some feet standoff distance. Hess took the seat at the end of the table nearest the display case of his old Militiaman gear.
"Before we begin, sir, I must apologize for this, but I could think of no way to meet with you informally without putting the request through my Basic Instructor," Dave said candidly.
"You could have typed the request into any standard communication terminal and sent it by email to Virtue or myself," Hess said. "Or you could have emailed the request to the Secret Service group. That would have bypassed your chain of command, and likely tripped some measure of pre-screening, but that is not strictly a disqualifier," Sigma One said. "I am not unapproachable, cadet, but a stunt like this is a good way to get shot. You took a shit-ton of gamble to get up in here. The fifty buck question of the day is, why?"
Dave sighed. "Before I begin, this will sound like a bit of a pathetic personal problem, but I am explaining this in the hopes that my guess is right, and that you will see an opportunity in these problems that I think exists."
"Listening," Sigma One said calmly.
"I am a denizen of a world where the ready assumption by the serfs is that we are 'managed' from on high by selective depopulation and limiting of expansion or reproduction. Just as one example, my sister's second son was run through as a newborn by the local Lord because she was not permitted to have a second son."
Sigma One grimaced. "That's pretty barbaric, even by the standards of my homeworld. So, you front that the population on your world is managed, where stands the opportunity of that, beyond liberation of that population?"
"The management is twofold, sir," Dave explained. "First, by restricting living persons, and two, by restricting living territory. Six nations exist in a small area, roughly the size of the Northern Continent on this world, but the land mass of the planet is known to be triple larger and mostly unused. If a person is caught living in the wilds, they are slain outright and hung in the nearest town as an example."
"Ah, and thus the major opportunity is laid on the table," Toni said from behind Dave.
"Agreed," the rifle-woman said as she sat down at the opposite end of the table from Sigma One.
"Indeed, that is a very loud opportunity," Hess said. "Six small nation-states cramped into a third of the usable land mass on planet? That is a gimme, if we played the cards right we could out-man them long before they even knew we were there."
"I was right to guess you would readily see the advantage at hand," Dave said.
"Okay, point conceded, you have credit on your proposal but certainly not on the method of delivery, Cadet Girna. Next time you get a bright idea, send me an email requesting a meet. Like I said, I am not unapproachable, but I am fast on the trigger and that can get dangerous quick for interlopers. So long as you're not bullshiiting me or blowing time, I have an open ear."
Dave nodded. "After the sniper competition this afternoon, sir, everyone on base knows that quite well. Still, the opportunity of it is only part of the matter I propose, sir. I have other concepts, depending on how dirty one is willing to be in the art of saving lives and emancipating people."
"Emancipating people is something of a hobby of mine," Sigma One said obliquely. "What are your thoughts?"
"The conspiracy that is known widely but not confirmed by the Nobility is that the Nobles deliberately use methods and actions to reduce populations that would constitute war crimes under any other civilized government. Granted, I am told that there is a grading curve on such actions for pre-industrial-age civilizations, but even by the most lackluster definition, this isn't civilized."
"That could be an interesting point of contention, especially in circumstances where we are forced into combat. I would not directly use war crimes as an excuse to take and hold territory of another land, but there may be options if Sigma is forced into combat against these parties. I take it you are proposing some manner of action here?"
"Aye. The Girna family are something of specialists in stealth entry. If I can find my way home, I can enlist my other relatives to move out into the nations to break into the nobility's quarters and gather evidence, sabotage, or perform other actions as needed."
"I think I may put that skill to use elsewhere besides your home planet, but definitely there for starters." Sigma One leaned back in his chair. "Okay, Cadet Girna. Your proposal has merit, and open territory is definitely an option for expansion, but keep in mind three things going forward. One, this conversation never occurred; I will have Virtue list you as moved up for tracking down your homeland, but you are not to speak of why. Clear?"
"Aye, my liege," Dave said. Hess blanched at the use of the title, but said nothing.
"Two, when we begin operations on the planet, you will probably be operating alone and unsupported. It will be up to you to evade and escape before we can extract you, though circumstances may change going forward. Clear?"
"Crystal clear, sir."
"Three, no more trying to break into my quarters to discuss matters. Email me, text me, phone call me if it is important enough, no break-ins. Clear?"
"I will remember that directive well, my liege."
"Get back to your barracks before anyone gets suspicious."
Author's Chapter Afterword:
Though it does not look like it, this is a bit of a transition point for Sigma, moving from boutique mercenary unit in preparation to a unit whereby a person would want to make a career out of the duty.
The matter comes down to personal perception of how things go in Sigma. People were expecting a hard job, and a continuous job, though with the (unbeknownst to them, forced) day off for Sigma Command, there comes the belief that everyone will get days off or even mini-vacations. Hess will actually take it a step further, allowing for the troops to take several days off after the completion of a contract. The detail work for this point will show up at the beginning of the next chapter, and the reasoning will be very solid as to why.
The second major plot issue of the day is the arrival of the new Train. You saw a segment in here whereby Megan Christenson (Rail Guard Unit 1) was drilling her team even on a stand-down day, and that will factor into the decision process to come. Due to the incidental capture of a Train, the Rail Guard units have just been put on the map and the political landscape. And nobody knows it yet.
Okay, I'll bet there are a few persons who think the 'strip DMR shooter challenge' was a big deal, right? Wrong. You can expect hijinks of this caliber throughout the Sigma tales to come, because this is definitely NOT a normal mercenary unit by any definition of the word. Competitions like this will be held, with increasing frequency, at a personal level for personnel to match skills and wits and to force improvement in training standards. After all, it is the perfect motivation to make sure you don't lose your clothes, so persons will force themselves to do better whenever possible. Unless there is an exhibitionist in the competition, then things could get a little screwy… (and yes, 'exhibitionist' is a valid procedurally-generated personality quirk under my systems, if rather rare).
On the matter of the late-night excursion by the Girna cadet, that is something that will produce a pretty significant series of side stories, but is not 100 percent germane to the mainline. Much like the appearance of the FF9 cast from the prior chapter (and soon to be next chapter as well), the Girna family are a bit odd compared the the otherwise bog-standard persons around them, but the allure of their dimensional origins are a bit much to pass up on. After all, a goodly portion of the story in FF9 was driven by Queen Brahne's lust for power. If Sigma ends up contracted to someone like Lindblum or Burmecia, Sigma could very easily give her all the power she wanted, right up her arse.
And the other points to take away from the chapter are in the section pertaining to the training drill with the basic units. You are seeing three fairly significant details here:
1 — the use of helicopters for cross-range mobility, ergo to move a strike team from one location to another, three HMMVWs will fit into a Chinook IIF easily with some extra cargo room.
2 — Using even light platforms such as the HMMVW to provide extended fire support to the ground troops makes things a helluva lot easier on everyone.
3 — Heavy Machine Guns solve many problems.
4 — The person in command of the battlefield has authority over everyone in the battle — in this case, the Basic Instructors. Note that Hess, who theoretically outranks everyone in the Protectorate, still made entry with the rest of the ground troops as needed.
5 — in following with point 4, by embedding themselves with the troops for a hostile structure clear, the Sigma Command team proved without a doubt that they are willing to get in the shit and clean house. While this may sound counter-intuitive to roles in the unit (Sigma Command is a command group, not by nomenclature a combat unit), the fact that the bosses are willing to — and very much capable of — doing combat detail with the troops, changes the perception dynamic on the ground. Such operational drilling puts the troops at ease with the expectation that the bosses will not simply throw them under the bus for profit and glory. It is also a very good first step for the Sigma Command guys and the SSOs to prove that they will be in the thick of it to the ground troops.
And that's pretty much it for the chapter.
One note on my writing: the reason why you're seeing a lot of Sigma chapters running right now, is because I'm under a lot of stress from outside factors and this is quite a bit easier for me to write than most of my other stories. It also helps me de-stress, especially when you consider the back-end game aspect of the story, whereas when writing AAA or JW I spend a lot more time and effort in storyline continuity and forward planning, which makes keeping elements straight rather difficult. I will do what I can with my other works, but for now this is how I detox from all the 'preprocessed equine dietary leftovers' that I am dealing with in the present timeframe.
NEXT UP: Clint makes a ruling on the Trains. Victoria makes a ruling on inductees. Clarence makes some business moves that cause raised eyebrows. And Hess drops more than a few rulings that make loud noise on impact.
Review Replies: Four reviews for Chapter 8! Much thank you!
HolyDragoon: Nah, Dave Girna got lucky. The next one might not, or a malicious tango definitely will not.
Knives 91: Armored Water Coolers? I will have to add these as a specific item in the inventory listing. Of course, handy for a battle zone, so…
Hope this chapter lives up to expectations!
KPheonix: Foreshadowing is one of my favorite arts :)
Launcelot, like most Knights of that era, was a combat pragmatist as well as bound by his honor. And, as these things are gauged, going on a good gunslinging quest to liberate persons from scum and criminals is well worth the effort of learning some new combat procedures. That said, Launcelot is the first of the Arthurian Knights to join, certainly not the last.
Steiner will have his 'shocked straight' moment in the next chapter, after Hess has the research in hand pertaining to the events that Dagger assumed (correctly) would happen. You are right about his loyalty, but sometimes a man has to realize being loyal to a monster is not a particularly good career move.
Here's Vash and his first round. This one rolled real high, and the town is used to being close to the seat of power, but they want better than what the Star League has to offer. I think Sigma can provide…
There may be no direct visiting of Hess' mind, but like a coming scene shall show, there may be unintentional iterations thereof. How that shakes out is yet to be seen.
Your question is predicated on the assumption that incoming persons want something different. Depending on how hospitable Hess can make the system, they may decide that dealing with the Mercenary is better than dealing with the byzantine juggernaut that the United States has become, or would become of Sigma should politicians interject themselves into the mix. Also, keep in mind that the Sigma System is based off the Magi system, which is a no-politician system that is commanded and administered by the regular military. His original complaint was predicated on it looking like a hard military dictatorship, not what it really is (a constitutionally-limited democratically-driven military administration). As it happens, the civilians are already in charge to a degree, which will be demonstrated in Chapter 10.
Thanks for the lengthy review!
Sajuuk: The point of this story (Sigma 0001) is to show the opening days and the events that forged the coming Mercenary Juggernaut. There will be other stories, with a faster time pace, to cover side events and the actual mercenary work.
A lot of your suggestions are good, solid ideas, and may not be restricted to Mercenaries. I could see that apply to a helluva lot of people inside and out of the Star League. Thanks!
Special Operations? Ohohohoho! You need not worry there!
As to recruiting from warzones, that is not so simple as it might sound on paper. The best operators are thoroughly married to their cause or their nation, depending on what exactly is going on; a mercenary unit drawing them off would not be a simple task. There will be more than a few cases where a foe will be cornered and offered a job as a way out, up to even the size of small units (especially in circumstances where the tango units don't want to be in the war to begin with). As to recruiting from disaster horror films, I do not do horror as a general rule of policy.
THANK YOU ALL FOR THE REVIEWS! I love the brand of gasoline brought by the reviewers to this fire! Keep 'em coming!
The Gripe Sheet:
No complaints for this prior chapter. Much thanks as always to Sieben Nightwing, Takeshi Yamato, Necroblade, and One-Village-Idiot. It takes 4 or five support guys (beta) to keep one frontliner (author) moving, so...
Footnotes:
(1): Song is Gothic Sandy (Overclocked Remix), from the old PC game Doom / Doom II. This can be downloaded from the OverclockedRemix Website for free, if you are interested.
(2): Inspiration by Ian Van Dahl, specifically the Peter Luts Remix.
(3): In Battery is the technical description for a bolt being fully closed, locked and ready to fire. This term originates with older artillery, where the term referred to moving old muzzle-load cannons back into place after each shot (To be 'in battery' was to have the cannon back to the firing line after the last shot and have the gun sighted back in on the target area).
(4): Chalk in this case refers to a count of persons that will be riding along.
Included Works:
—Real Life Armaments — too many to name, that is most of the arsenal shown.
—Real Life Combat Gear — the vests and gear carried by the Militia troops are easily constructible from stuff you can buy on Amazon or Cheaper Than Dirt. No, Seriously, Look it up. Do a search for "UTG Modular 10-Piece Complete Kit", and you have a good look at a starter kit for any serious gearhound.
—Real Life Concepts
—Real Life Time Period: 1930s New York City (Shown in Chapter 2, referenced in chapter 3)
—Real Life Equipment: The Caterpillar equipment showcased in this chapter is based on real life designs or equipment from said manufacturer.
—Real Life Mythology: The Phoenix race of beings are derived from the mythological Phoenix (Egyptian) and Thunder Bird (Native American). That said, I have made some serious modifications to the whole principle that will be revealed in coming chapters.
—Real Life Mythology: The first of many Valkyrie have joined the blossoming Protectorate. That said, do not confuse the Valkyrie with the term Valkyria — separate work, separate purpose. (Shown in chapter 7)
—Personal Works: The Star Empires are mentioned briefly here. Additionally, the Magi Empire is named specifically.
—Personal Works: The nations of the Jokers Wild are mentioned in Chapter 6. There is a very good reason for that.
—Personal Works: The Star League is a derivation of the Star League from Battletech, but founded by Queen Sora Serenity (Executor-Queen Sora Takenouchi).
—Personal Works: The Executors are specialized Mages who have transcended a minimum of twice (Gods and Goddesses are a minimum Transcendance of once) and are specially commissioned to defend life and honor amongst the Star League territories or member states.
—Personal Works: The 10mm Kurz cartridge is a shortened / lower velocity / lower weight version of the 10mm BG round, developed by the Magi for 'crowd pleasing' against large masses of Negaverse troops, most of which were unarmored during the Star Empire Wars. It quickly became a favored heavy machine gun round for multiple purposes after the fact. (Shown in Chapter 1)
—Personal Works: Gerald Lightbringer is most famous for his participation in my Jokers Wild series, but his history is far stranger than either story properly shows. (Last seen in chapter 5)
—Personal Works: The last section of Chapter 6 makes it clear that the Jokers Wild, Sigma, and Multimage Chronicles are interconnected at multiple levels. This WILL come back to haunt everyone involved, in multiple ways.
—Anime General: the oddball hair colors, especially endemic to nonhumans.
—Anime General and D&D: the nonspecific concept of Elves, Nymphs, and Sylphs.
—Anime Trigun: Vash The Stampede, Millie Thompson, and Meryl Strife took the wrong train, ended up hanging out, and now are tagging along with the Militiamen.
—Game: Battletech: You are starting to see some serious discussion of Battletech units and force concepts in this chapter. They will become more prevalent as the story marches on. (Happens off and on.)
—Game: Dungeons and Dragons (First Edition): A lot of the spellcraft will be drawn from D&D as well as other sources to be named.
—Game: Dungeons and Dragons (First Edition): The concept of the Dragons of many colors is drawn from the D&D First Edition
Monster Manual. Some mods were made (the Platinum dragon is not unique, and the Eternal Dragon is a wholly new class).
—Game: Final Fantasy IX: The player cast of the game (Zidane, Dagger, Steiner, Freya, Vivi, Eiko, Red, and Quina) are residing in one of the dining cars, but do not have a role as of yet.
—Game: Infantry Online (Sony Online Entertainment): The CAW from the early section, and named in the stinger, is a different-manufacturer version of the Kuchler A6 CAW. (Shown in Chapter 1)
—Game: Call Of Duty MW2: The Remington ACR in use in this story is based on the Magpul Masada / Bushmaster ACR / Remington ACR in use in said game. Hey, even if it was pooh-pooed in real life, someone in an alternate dimension would do it right, ne?
—Game: Command And Conquer Renegade: The Infantry Ion Cannon (Portable Ion Cannon) is a personnel weapon from Renegade, and is considered a mainstay amongst the Star Empires. (Seen in Chapter 8, to be seen frequently in the future))
