Chapter Seventeen
Approaching BD+56 2966 Two (“Turkh’saar”)
Solsohn was just behind the others as they entered the bridge. Riordan, inspecting the sensor data scrolling alongside the holoplot, waved them toward the acceleration couches which were fixed in the upright position. Sergeant Fanny remained standing beside him, tilted into the lateral quarter-gee at a sharp angle, a dataslate cradled in the crook of this left arm.
Once they were belted in, Riordan turned away from the holoplot. “Corporal de los Reyes, you’re here because, from what I’ve seen, the troops don’t give you much trouble and their ears perk up when you pass the word. So you will acquaint the the Cold Guard’s rank and file with the challenges we might face as a result of our nonstandard ToE.”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
“Private Martell, you’re to do the same thing.”
“Me, sir? I’m not what you’d call an authority figure—”
“Not by your rank, perhaps, but certainly by reputation. Scuttlebutt says that in your old units, you had a knack for keeping spirits up and in-fighting low. I’m counting on you to be this unit’s social glue. And from what little I’ve observed, you’re already beginning to fill that role.”
Martell tried very hard to keep his eyes from widening in surprise. “Well, sir—no reason for folks not to be friendly. But that jus’ comes natural: I’m not really needed at a special meeting about—”
“Private, the more you know about our state of play—where we’re well-equipped and where we are substandard—the more authoritative you can be in shaping opinion and reaction among the troops. And since none of them could have anticipated a mission like this when they entered cryosleep, there could be a reflex toward anxiety and rumors—the kind that lowers morale. You’re here to get information that will assist you in knocking down those rumors with hard facts.”
And to let all those enlisted personnel know that Martell has some pull with the CO, which also makes his job easier—but also pushes him out of the sibhood of being “just another grunt.” Which could make him uncomfortable, too…Riordan waited for Martell to mount another respectful protest, but the private nodded slowly, somberly.
Riordan turned to Matt Fanny. “Top, tell us what we’re facing in terms of changes to the individual load-outs, then work up the line: squad, section, platoon-level shortages or overages.”
“Yes, sir. Individual changes mostly involve commo and wearables. Armament is still the same: eight millimeter CoBro liquimix modular assault system, currently configured as battle rifles and squad support weapons. Only two ten-millimeter Remington M167s, though.”
“Configured as assault guns or sniper systems?”
“Currently as assault guns, Commodore.”
“Swap ’em to sniper rifles.”
“Sir, you might want to wait until you hear about our heavy weapons mix, and if—”
“Your concern is duly noted, Sergeant, but I’m guessing that the Remington ‘longs’ are the only option we have for reliably lethal three-kilometer accuracy. Am I correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then my order stands. I need those configured as sniper systems. Next item.”
“Yes, sir. Our electronics are a bit old school. I’m guessing they didn’t want to risk broadcast comms or less hardened electronics when they were facing off against the Arat Kur on Earth. So the Relief Fleet’s quartermasters grabbed most of the personal lascom rigs. We only have enough for NCOs and officers. Less, if we’re going to set any aside for your command staff.”
“My staff will need at least six.”
“Then we’ll be tight, sir. Very.”
“With any luck at all, we will not be highly dispersed. However, if it turns out we need to cover more ground, I’ll make sure that at least half of my command staff is embedded with your squads. Their sets will function as command relays for the units they’ve been assigned to. How are we on encryption tech?”
“Fine, and more than we can use when it comes to electronic warfare. I guess the brass was presumed we’d be so outclassed by the Arat Kur that they didn’t bother to lug more than a third of it back home.”
Duncan shrugged. “Actually, that could be a lucky break. Our post-war tech intelligence indicates that we have as much of an edge on the Hkh Rkh as the Arat Kur had on us. Our broadcast comms should be almost as safe as lascom—but no reason to give them a lot of signals to analyze until we have to. So we stick with lascom until they can’t support the traffic or the line-of-sight is compromised. That’s when we shift to encrypted broadcast.”
Riordan nodded. “Fine. Back to personal weapons. Do we have enough rocket-assisted projectiles for the underslung tubes on the CoBros?”
“We have lots of RAPs, sir, but not enough of the ones we need. We’re light on both the anti-personnel and the dual-purpose warheads. We have only a few of the anti-armor stik-RAPs and zero anti-laser prismatic aerosol rounds.”
Riordan nodded. “Makes sense. That’s what the counter-invasion force would take to maximize its hitting power. What about flechettes and suppressives?”
“We have a normal draw of flechettes, sir. You could shoot gas rounds all day and not run out.”
De los Reyes’ grin had no humor in it. “Guess they weren’t planning to use crowd control tactics against the invaders.”
Riordan matched his grin. “Guess not. What else, Fanny?”
“We have no external armor shells for our duty-suits, sir, and we’re short on ballistic liners. From the specs in your database on the Hkh’Rkh personal weapons, I don’t know how much good they’re going to do our people in a firefight, particularly at close range.”
“Agreed, but they could still make the difference when it comes to shrapnel and fragmentation grenades. What about night vision?”
Fanny shook his head. “Goggles, not visors. Another pain, sir.”
Riordan leaned toward the inventory entry at which Fanny was pointing. “As least they’re combo goggles: light intensification and thermal, both. But no eye-triggered designators.”
“Nope, sir. Older American and Aussie models. As with everything else, they left us the stuff about to be redesignated for the reserves—or decommissioned. Even when it comes to the juice bottles for the guns.”
Martell sat up a bit. “Don’ mean to interrupt, sir, but what’s wrong with the juice? The allgens are gonna wanta know if they can’t shoot as hard or far as they’re used to.”
Solsohn explained before Fanny could pull up the relevant notes. “It’s the same juice that you remember, Martell. But that means it’s already being decommed from front-line service. Just after you hit the cryopods, they managed to make a slightly better liquid propellant. The Relief Fleet snapped all of that up.”
Riordan nodded at Fanny. “Anything else, Sergeant?”
“Special and support equipment, sir. All of us were trained to make drops, but we don’t have any parapods. Oddly, we do have enough heavy weapons. Twice the normal issue of MULTI rocket launchers, probably because they were too heavy to drop.”
Riordan frowned. “Possibly, but I suspect there were tactical considerations, also. MULTIs are good in direct fire role, but they’re really designed for indirect fire. So they usually set up behind the lines. Not right for the highly mobile operations which the counter-invasion force had to anticipate. Which is why I also suspect they didn’t leave us many autonomous systems.”
“Correct, sir. They snapped up all the latest lascom relay and control microbots. We have a reasonable number of broadcast quadrotors and creepers, but only a few of the larger, dual-commed hover-drones.”
“What about armed RoVs?”
“Just one anthrobot, a Proxie.And that’s a training frame, so it’s beat to hell.”
Martell leaned back. “Allgens not gonna be too happy to hear that, either. RoVs and anthrobots take a lot of fire that would otherwise be aimed at us.”
Riordan frowned. “Not a thing we can do about it, Private. Besides, ROVs, drone weapon platforms, Proxies: they all require a lot of combat support elements, rear-area c4i and full-body InPic control bubbles. We don’t have any of those.”
“So we can’t even use the Proxie, sir?” It was the first time de los Reyes sounded worried.
“I don’t see how, Corporal. We don’t have a remote-operator rig.”
Duncan glanced up. “Commodore, I might be able to cobble one together.”
Riordan raised on eyebrow. “How?”
“By converting this ship’s full-body gunnery interface.”
Karam Tsaami had evidently been listening to the conversation. “Major, with all due respect, I don’t want to have this hull’s primary weapons off-line so that you can drive a tactical anthrobot around. Not while we’re in a potential ship-to-ship combat zone.”
“Puller’s primary weapons wouldn’t be off-line. They just wouldn’t be controlled by a gunner in the interface globe. Primary fire direction would come from the bridge’s gunnery station, just like in the landers.”
“Major, those landers only have to control ground support weapons. Puller has the only real battery weapons, so if we wind up tangling with—”
“Officer Tsaami, I’m right with you: if we have to tangle with another ship or spaceside drones, we yank the Proxie controller out and the gunnery-globe is restored to being the primary interface for Puller’s weapons.”
Riordan nodded. “Sounds good in concept. But how do you make it work?”
“Well, sir, I’ve put a similar system. Last time, I had to adapt a remote gunnery globe stored in the bay of a drop shuttle. If I could make that damn kludge work, I can sure as hell manage it here.”
De los Reyes’s voice was slow, as if grudgingly intrigued. “Where did you get the tech training for that, sir?”
“They sent me to Coronado.”
De los Reyes’s eyes opened very wide. “Wait: you were trained as an operator…sir?”
“That and field tech for the system.”
Riordan felt his other eyebrow rise. “How many hours as an operator?”
Solsohn looked away, seemed to be running through mental math. “About twenty-five in actual field ops, sir. Probably about ninety training and refresher.”
Riordan glanced up at Fanny. “How’s that compare with your best operator?”
“Actually we only have one person qualified for Proxie ops: Graceless Grace Obajou. She’s got six hours in live-fire exercises, about a dozen live training, about forty in the simulator.”
“Combat experience?”
“None, sir. We haven’t had a shooting war in a long time.”
Caine let a smile emerge. “Looks like you’re going to be wearing the sensuit in the gunnery-globe, Duncan.”
Solsohn managed not to stammer. “Sir, with all due respect, I belong in the field. Personally.”
Riordan shook his head. “Your desire to lead from the front and in the flesh is noted and appreciated—”
—a point which was also noted and appreciated by de los Reyes and Martell, evidently—
“—but the bottom line is that, if we have to mount ground operations, our one Proxie is too crucial a resource to put in any hands other than those of our best operator: you.” Riordan nodded to the three enlisted men around him as he reached for his couch’s restraints. “Dismissed. We’ll be nosing down into our final descent soon. So get on lascom to update the people you trust on the other wedges and then strap in. We can’t be sure of what kind of reception we’re going to get.”