ShipCore 2.0: A LitRPG Adventure, page 13
“A professional sentiment I wish more could follow. I expect he’ll file a complaint with the Solarian admiralty against you. Not that they should have much information on the Tears since it was so recently registered, but I have a few bits of advice for you later on ‘covering’ your tracks, so to speak…”
“I would be very grateful to hear them, Captain-Major.”
“Please, you can just call me Captain, or Major. The full title can be a mouthful.”
“Very well, Major. I understand you’ll be at the meeting with the Governor and Brigadiers?”
Captain-Major Thraker nodded and waved toward the center of the station, and Alex’s eyes followed the gesture to the inhabited sections where the Governor’s office was located.
“Yes, the IHMC has been providing ground support and assistance with the evacuation, much as you have been doing. Unfortunately, we’ve had more casualties and the settlement west of Tifara was overrun. Since then, we’ve been prioritizing the evacuation of the smaller settlements, especially the ones in the path of the rampaging Rexxors.”
Alex nodded and they headed to the meeting location together, discussing the events on the planet as they went.
USD: Five hours later
Location: Dedia IV Orbit, Space Elevator Rendezvous, Tears of Fire, Mess Berth
Elis left the Militia HQ building with a brisk step. With the additional artillery fire that she’d called down along with a healthy dose of orbit-to-ground laser fire from the Tears, the defense had pushed back the Rexxor assault without disintegrating. Especially when the combat bots had finally arrived. They had assisted Booper in mopping up the remnants in the nearby hills. The exhausted militia could not call up the reserves to sally from the walls.
She, like many of the others that had been on the brunt of the Rexxor attack, had promptly gone to collapse and get some rest. It had been a measure of endurance to strip out of her MK4B suit, and she had considered just falling into the bed and sleeping in it.
Ertan knew it wouldn’t have been the first time.
It wasn’t quite a full six hours of sleep later when the knocking at her room had woken her with a request that she report for a debriefing with the militia’s command.
Unfortunately, Lieutenant-Colonel Wesley had not liked the proactive nature of her not going through the chain of command to secure said artillery fire. He’d spent a good fifteen minutes chewing her out in front of the entire command, and she felt terribly worried for those poor tankers that had saved everyone’s ass.
Wind gusted, blowing a thin line of dust through the area. It hadn’t rained once since she had arrived, although the forecast had warned of an approaching storm-front. The weather in the region was always a mix of heavy rains followed by dry air. The time for the seasonal shift was arriving.
A huddle of civilians being guided by a team of militiamen passed in front of her as they headed in the direction of the landing pads. The automated shuttles were probably due for another cycle, but Elis had lost track of the schedule after the combat.
The crack of distant rifle fire was now a constant companion. Even if the assault ended in defeat for the Rexxor, there was now a constant pressure being put on the militia guardsmen. Thankfully, the evacuation had taken care of over half the civilians already. Nameless had also been delivering the basic firearms that the colonists were used to. Every man and woman who requested received a weapon.
It was in the hopes that if a few Rexxor broke into the perimeter, people would at least be able to protect themselves.
As long as it wasn’t a horde. The imagery from the earlier battle came to her, and she leaned against the brick of a building. She’d seen a lot of shit and been in it, too. But the sheer savagery and bloodletting of thousands and thousands of the creatures mindlessly throwing themselves into bullets and explosives was something else altogether. She couldn’t imagine what the main army’s primary front looked like.
Even fighting the nannies hadn’t been as visceral. They weren’t flesh and blood, and although their swarms of machines might have been just as terrifying in some situations, they at least acted with rational thought processes that could be understood.
What she had seen earlier in the day was just pure bloodlust, akin to something she would expect from a rabid dog.
Elis had intended to go back to her room and get some more sleep, but feeling the need to unwind changed directions. She had noticed a bar nearby bar the local militia had taken over near her quarters. She turned to go in that direction.
There was no alcohol on the Tears, and she hadn’t seen the need to correct that.
There were a dozen men and women outside underneath the cover of a porch, bottles of beer or other drinks in hand. It sounded like a lively crowd had gathered. They were probably here for the same reason she was, even though it was already in the wee hours of the morning.
As she started up the steps to the entrance, a man’s arm suddenly came up to grab the porch post, barring her way.
“Darling, this ain’t the place for a civvie, although I’m sure we could make an exception for a pretty thing like you. How about ya’ spend some time with us?”
Although she wasn’t in her armor, she was still wearing her normal federation fatigues. She wondered just how lit the man was to not recognize that while she wasn’t in a militia uniform, she wasn’t a civilian either. One of his companions who already had a girl on his arm let out a laugh, but Elis only felt annoyance.
“Move your arm or lose it.”
“Wooooah. Relax, doll. No need to be so tense. But if you’re the frisky type that’s exactly what I’m—”
He never finished his sentence as Elis slammed her shin between his legs, his shocked look disappearing as she followed up by grabbing his arm and flinging him to the ground behind her.
The sudden violence surprised everyone watching, but the man’s buddies responded quickly, squaring up for a fight and moving toward her. A bar fight hadn’t been in her plans, especially not before even getting a drink, but she was alright with it. Although three on one was a bit much.
Fighting and being a bit rowdy was almost as good an outlet as drinking, especially after being blooded. It was a marine tradition. One she had been a part of many times before. Elis spat on the ground, backing up into the street to gain some space as she moved into her own stance, “Alright, motherfuckers, let’s dance.”
Before they could oblige her, an earthquake sent everyone staggering for their balance and a cloud of sandy dust erupted behind Elis, rapidly enveloping her.
She didn’t quite manage to suppress a cough as she tried to wave the dust out of her face, and a hand landed on something metallic as she regained her posture.
Booper was standing above her at its full height, its multi-barrel gatling guns spinning slowly in a threatening manner as it shined its floodlights on the three men she’d been about to brawl with.
A low, angry “Broooop” escaped from the steel chassis, and for a fearful second Elis thought it was about to turn the men into meat paste.
She recovered first and patted the robot’s leg. “Guess you assholes aren’t interested in a two versus three?”
The men didn’t respond, but their NCO did, bursting out of the building and taking in the situation in a single glance.
“What the fuck are you ass-for-brains doing? That’s THE mercenary.”
The off-duty militiamen looked at each other, uncomprehending expressions on their faces as their boss rounded them up and led them away. Elis didn’t blame them for the shock. Booper had made one hell of an entrance.
The NCO waved at her, and Elis waved back.
She patted the robot’s side. “Thanks, I think it’s fine now.”
It let out a “Boop” and then turned to walk idly down the street, resuming its patrol throughout the town.
Entering the building without issue, she homed in on a lonely stool at the bar. The bartender wasn’t interesting, but did get her the drink she ordered in record time.
Although it had been outside, no one inside had missed the interplay between her and the idiots. She tried to strike up a conversation a few times, but she realized she had somehow become off-limits to socialization. Either she was too intimidating or a resentment for the damaged pride of their compatriots. Having a several-ton robot as a friend was also possibly damaging to prospects.
That suited her just fine, and Elis laid into several glasses of whatever the place was calling their liquor. The warmth had settled into her stomach and the heat of the room washed across her face.
It had been a long time since she had done this. Before her last cryo-tour had been cut short by the war. Normally, she had her squad beside her. She edged closer to the line of drunkenness than she would have tolerated before. And that was saying a lot because her tolerance was high thanks to whatever ancestor had played with her genome.
She ignored the other patrons, but their sounds and laughter still poked at her senses. About to finish and go back to her room, a young man approached.
“Is this seat taken?”
She glanced at all the empty barstools that been vacant soon after she arrived before studying his face. He was young. The marks on his color showed he was a lance-corporal, or whatever the militia’s equivalent was called.
He was handsome in a puppy-dog sort of way. He wasn’t exactly her type. She would have liked to have found a woman, but she was thankful she wasn’t very picky with this sort of thing.
A roll of laughter caught her attention, and she noticed that a table in the corner had its attention plastered all over the two of them.
“Looks like it is free. Those your friends?”
He winced and looked back at the jeering militiamen. “Uhh, yes Ma’am.”
As he turned back to look at her, Elis reached up to grab his collar, pulling him to her for a kiss. It was short but communicative and elicited an eruption of cheers egging them on from the corner.
“I’m leaving. Are you coming with me?”
“Yes Ma’am.”
CHAPTER 15
MEETINGS AND UNDERSTANDINGS
USD: A BIT EARLIER
Location: 92 Pegasi, Ackman Asteroid Belt, A-3123Y Orbital
“Logan, this is the most stupid thing I’ve ever seen you pull, and that’s incredible.”
Amy held onto a handhold welded to the ceiling of the old badger MKII’s cockpit, her other hand on the back of the pilot’s seat that was occupied by her stupid younger brother.
“Trust me! System net’s hot with it. They’re offering higher rates than Ackman.”
“We don’t have life-support to spare. You’ve wasted a whole day of it by not getting in a transfer orbit with Ackman station. The scrub is going to overwork and need to be replaced, and that’ll cost us all our money this trip.”
“Relax, I checked that, too. They have a spare filter replacement. Even better, they have a whole new module with a full lifespan, and it’s not even as expensive as the JunkRat filter replacements.”
Amy sighed, feeling a bit of distress. Someone had played a horrible joke on the system net, offering better prices, and impossible to find parts.
“Listen, it’s some silly joke. There is no way anyone has a new life-support module for a Badger MKII. They stopped building them thirty years ago. That’s why we have to make do with the scrap from the JunkRat.”
“Nah, I put in what we needed, and they specifically spit out a confirmation for those exact parts.”
“Logan, it is some prank, some ass-blasted miner-jerk put this out to probably fuck with the competition. That’s us.”
The comm lit up with static.
|A small haul|
|Repeated many times|
|Large benefits bring|
“What the Ertan-blessed is that?” Amy blurted out.
“Relax, that’s how it goes, sis. Like, it is automated or something. We are getting navigation data, just like the sysnet said. We just follow it in. Don’t even have to dock, drones will unload us and leave behind what we ordered. Then the balance is transferred.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What did you order other than the life-support?”
“Heh. You’re going to love this.”
Logan reached over to grab his data pad and handed it to Amy, the order list still displayed on the screen.
“They got everything! I think it actually produces it made-to-order, ‘cause I haven’t run into anything it didn’t have yet as long as I didn’t put any crazy numbers in.”
Amy read the list and shook her head, thinking it was a trap, or a joke. But what could she do? They were going to be shafted when they had to burn their life-support getting up to Ackman Station.
But if it worked out… This was going to change a lot for all the rock rats in the belt.
One item on the bottom of the list blinked with a new entry, and Amy’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“It’s asking us our preference between kebabs or cake?”
USD: A few minutes after leaving the Tears of Fire
Location: Nu Crateris, Dedia IV Orbit, Space Elevator Orbital, Governor’s Office Meeting Room
“The rate of Rexxor activity is continuing to escalate. Seismic sensors have detected that the ‘hive’ is much larger than we ever thought possible, with tunnels extending hundreds of kilometers in a vast crisscrossing network. We have detected new activity and tunnels being dug toward the front and the city itself. That speed is increasing, and we project it is only a matter of days before the Rexxor will burrow up inside the frontline itself. It is only a matter of weeks before they could be inside the city itself.”
Brigadier Desersa let that set in.
Alex frowned but remained silent, examining the other faces in the room. She had a seat at the table but was conscious that all the others had brought aids or assistants. Even Captain-Major Thraker had two junior lieutenants standing behind him.
After the meeting, she was going to put an ad out for hiring a manager for future operations in the system.
Meanwhile, she continued to listen to the briefing.
Brigadier Desersa stood and went to a monitor, using an actual wooden stick to point at an image that displayed. She wondered how much she could get away with charging them for a holotable in the future. There were just so many things she could make that people needed.
She also needed to figure out if Rexxor to burrow under the ocean to reach her desired islands. That would be a problem. Maybe forgetting about Dedia IV and investing in the orbitals would be a better idea.
Although… being on a planet with ample resources and an atmosphere made so many things much simpler production wise. Especially since it had a space elevator that could move a large amount of tonnage to and from orbit.
‘Focus.’
Alex examined the map that had appeared.
“With the current projections, it has become clear we need a decapitation strike. Having conferred with my colleague, we have come up with an operational plan to evacuate the front line and protect the city. It involves using a maximum yield AMCN strike in a ground penetration configuration to kill the ‘queen’ of the hive.”
They were going to nuke the Rexxor’s nest. Alex had slowly concluded that it was a likely scenario. The Rexxor had sustained a constant stream of casualties for weeks, and the rate had only been increasing. She wasn’t sure how it was possible, but either their underground population was orders of magnitude higher than ever suspected or they were being grown in some type of super accelerated fashion.
“A simultaneous sustained kinetic bombardment from the Tears of Fire at the frontline, along with a sustained sortie of the 1st and 2nd air-wings, will relieve the positions and allow the soldiers to fall back. At the same time, the 33rd and 34th city-defense divisions will sally forth with all motorized equipment available to neutralize all the stragglers in the pocket and help speed the retreat of units which already have severe equipment losses.”
Alex coughed, and suddenly everyone was looking at her. She had instant regret at interrupting, but…
“Excuse me if I’m incorrect, but the city is only 150 kilometers from the nest. I realize the city walls and planetary curvature will probably provide ample protection from the direct gamma-ray burst, but… A ground detonation of a AMCN in the 500-megaton range will cause much more fallout than an airburst. Have you considered… maybe trying to communicate with the Rexxors for a cease-fire or something else…?”
All the Dedians shared a look with one another as if she’d stumbled upon a touchy subject. Maybe she had…?
The only one not looking at her like she had mentioned something entirely risqué was Captain-Major Thraker and his aides. Maybe it was a Dedian thing?
The silence elongated, and it felt like they were putting her on the spot. Embarrassment warred with growing annoyance. Surely, they could see that the Rexxor movements had some intelligence behind them? Ants didn’t setup military fronts, make flanking attacks, or setup ambushes that let strong columns through but hit lighter ones.
Alex bit her lip. Or maybe they did? Was she giving the Rexxor too much credit?
USD: After the meeting
Location: Nu Crateris, Dedia IV Orbit, Space Elevator Orbital, Ristro’s Restaurante
Alex had accepted an offer from Captain-Major to eat lunch at an establishment on the orbital. Ristro’s Restaurante’s staff all wore professional wait staff uniforms. They had received a private booth that was decorated with polished wood and had a privacy curtain. The Major’s two aides had split from them to sit at their own table in the main lobby.
The menu had been in some strange language that she had to guess at.
She had worried when Thraker gave her a look when she ordered ‘Escargot,’ but she was too self-conscious to ask what it was.
It had turned out alright. The sauce had been rich and buttery.
