“Why is she staring at the sky?” Asked Ashwood, putting the binoculars down.
Minutes after their pitiful sensors detected the approaching aircraft, Lieutenant Jane noticed movement in the Eigosian ranks.
Now the Custodian, still sitting on that massive horse of hers, stared up at the sky.
Right in the direction of the incoming flyers.
That would not be too strange, were they still not far above the atmosphere. Completely out of range of even the best cybernetics, let alone flesh.
“Occam's razor. She can see them,” the hulking cyborg still standing next to Ashwood responded, her voice monotone.
The Colonel turned to look at the unnaturally still Jane, who was currently looking at the Custodian as well, though without binoculars.
Ashwood shared her opinion, but the thought of voicing it unsettled him.
He felt like he could almost grasp the Custodian’s secret, but there was still something missing.
William Ashwood no longer knew whether he even wanted to know.
Shaking the intrusive thoughts from his head, he surveyed the hill their encampment stood on.
Soldiers busied themselves all around, settling into hastily dug trenches, passing around munition and manning the precious few heavy weapons they possessed. The remaining eight shuttles were arranged in a circle, serving both as makeshift cover and gun emplacements. The shuttles’ weapons were not anything impressive, meant mostly as point defence, but they’d serve against infantry at least.
It was, in a single word, pathetic.
Even before most of their gear burned up in atmosphere, their mission called for them to serve as a glorified police force.
His soldiers were more than up to standard, of course, but that did not change the lack of, well, everything.
A great flaw in his ‘master’ plan. Hiding near the Custodian bought them time, but if she did not pull through, they’d still be massacred.
Probably. He cast one more surreptitious at Lieutenant Jane.
This would be the first time he’d command Soma Aspis in battle. They were a defence force first, infiltrators second. Not really infantry material. Mostly because of their extremely low numbers and the enormous amount of money that went into each of them.
That hardly made them useless in such a role, merely untested. Ashwood had never seen them in action either, but he was aware of their capabilities.
“Lieutenant, you managed to grab two of the Mark Fours from Sterope, yes?” Ashwood asked.
“Correct, Colonel,” she said.
“Could your people fire them from trees?” He asked.
Jane took a second to process his question. The Mark Fours were anti-armour railguns meant to be set up on the ground along with three people to operate them. Two to maneuvre and one to spot. They were also their only real hope to defend against gunships, none of their other heavy weapons suitable. Hopefully the enemy had none, but better to plan for the worst.
Not that the miniaturized railguns were meant for such a role, but needs must and all.
Ashwood guessed that a full-body cyborg should be able to manage to operate one on their own, even if not comfortably. They’d stand a much better chance at actually hitting a flying target too.
“In theory,” she said, sounding thoughtful, “I don’t know if the upper parts of the trees will be able to carry our weight though.”
He cast his gaze towards the coniferous forests surrounding the plain currently occupied by an army straight out of a historical documentary, “Best to keep to the edges, then they won’t have to climb too high,” he paused, looking upward at the blue sky, “More hidden from flyers too.”
“I suppose that would work, though it’d be a first for us,” she responded.
Perhaps a first for the Republic too, he mused. While cybernetic augmentations were common for certain specialized roles, the Soma Aspis were unique. As far as he knew, at least.
In the past, the military had attempted to create full-body cyborgs a few times already, but the projects were inevitably scrapped. The high levels of customization needed for each person made the procedure terribly expensive and the results often drove the unlucky soldier in question insane even then.
Not terribly surprising, when you realize that such people were essentially just a brain-in-a-jar.
Athena managed to solve or side-stepped most of these issues though. She handled the customization on her own, cutting down costs significantly, while only letting those she had extensive amounts of data on undergo even just the preliminary psychological testing.
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No one outside her habitats qualified. Most of those thought likely to be suitable washed out during the tests. Like himself.
This was simply not something the military could replicate. While most space stations possessed a similar level of surveillance, the ability to analyse those unimaginable quantities of data was firmly out of mortal grasp.
Even when she had been created, Athena had personified the peak of human technology. A vast mountain of progress, to be sure, but also one that she had surpassed long ago. Her brilliant mind was no longer something that mere humans could replicate.
Most did not really want to try anyway. After Athena had won her citizenship, she sued the company that created her, resulting in its bankruptcy. And so the risks of a too-smart AI to one’s profits became readily apparent.
Even so, while the program had Athena’s full attention, there were still problems with the procedure.
Jane’s dead voice was a great example of one of the creepy side effects of the procedure.
With almost the entirety of their bodies replaced with metal, the Soma Aspis had unparalleled control over themselves. Amazing in theory, not so much in practice. Most of them quickly stopped caring about little things, like modulating their voice or blinking. The percentage of those who did not retain their sanity lay quite low thanks to the extensive testing done beforehand, but never low enough. Someone always slipped through.
All that to say that this really might be the first time a single human would wield a Mark Four, let alone shoot it from a tree.
Perhaps not something that would go down in history, but it served as a good reminder.
So long as unexplored options existed, no situation was truly hopeless.
He checked his interface. Seven minutes had passed since the two still functioning warships up in orbit disgorged their contents.
Ten more until they arrived here.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over them, causing Ashwood to look up.
He saw the gas giant covering the sun, causing an impromptu eclipse.
Ashwood would prefer to die in the sun, but he couldn’t deny that it was fitting for a last stand.
“Send whichever of your people you think will manage best,” he said, turning to Jane, “Have them focus on flyers or armour, if they have any. Have them relocate after each shot too.”
Jane nodded, but stayed still, likely relaying his orders.
“The rest of you will stay here,” Ashwood paused, thinking a bit more, but not having any other ideas for the Soma Aspis to act on.
“I look forward to seeing you and your people in action, Lieutenant,” he finished.
“We will make sure not to disappoint,” Jane responded, amusement colouring her voice.
Nine minutes.
He saluted to her, Jane returning it.
Then he moved over to one of the shuttles and with a sigh grabbed the matte black EM rifle leaning against it.
Ashwood examined the standard-issue electromagnetic gun with a clinical eye, checking the magazine and safety, before aiming down the sights towards the plains.
It had been a while since he had shot one of those, but he did not forget things easily these days.
He strapped the rifle to his chest and started moving towards the trench facing the plains, Jane following faithfully behind.
For commanding officers to participate in battle went against protocol, but it might be safer in this instance. As per regulation, his armour did not differentiate him from regular infantry in any way, so shooting the one guy that seemed to just stand around would have been the logical thing for the enemy to do.
He had nowhere to bunker down. The shuttles would be targeted first and they had no way to build any sort of real fortifications. Hiding in the crowd, so to speak, was his best option.
Five minutes.
It took him half a minute to reach the trench and jump down.
Funny things, trenches. Centuries of military advancement yet digging a hole in the ground could still be considered a decent defensive strategy.
The Colonel quickly found a spot for him and Jane to occupy, the soldiers present making way both for her bulk and his rank.
No one apart from him here knew who the Soma Aspis were, but anyone with eyes could see that they were some sort of a spec ops team.
Under normal circumstances, Ashwood’s soldiers would have definitely complained about and or questioned their presence. Now they were just silently grateful.
With four minutes remaining, he turned his eyes to the sky, seeing nothing but the still dark sky.
Somewhat situated, he took the helmet from his belt, then put it on.
Then he sighed again, the airtight helmet muffling the sound completely.
He hated making speeches. They were a clear acknowledgement that a situation had spiralled out of control. An acknowledgement of a deterioration of morale to the point where soldiers could no longer be expected to follow orders properly.
People like that were not fit for duty. Slapping a bandage in the form of an inexpertly crafted speech would not fundamentally change anything, only shifting the odds around by a few percent. A very dearly needed few percent.
The timer in the corner of his eye went down to three minutes.
With time running out Ashwood quickly went over the prepared words, before connecting to the comms of everyone present.
“Loyal soldiers of the Republic, the time has come for you to write history,”
“The traitors think they have won. They think they will simply mop up a few broken remnants and in doing so cover up their treason.”
“They will try. THEY WILL FAIL!”
“Today, today we will uphold the principles of the Founder.”
“The will of the Republic shall not be subverted with murder, for we will not allow it!”
“There will be no mercy and no retreat. We will stand and fight here!”
“On this alien world, we shall stop the rot threatening our homeland!”
“For the Republic!”
One minute. His final cry was echoed by the soldiers all around him.
A good sign. Not the worst speech in his opinion, especially considering his time constraints.
He only hoped that no record of it would end up salvageable in the event of their defeat.