11. How do we fix this?
Nathan had been counting down with Athena towards insertion. His knees bent in the careful pose he’d learned in training, he tried to reassure himself that everything would be fine, and that he was just experiencing last moment jitters. Everyone felt this way on their first live fire mission, he told himself. Or they should. He was not like Tony, who saw little difference between a day of leisure and a day of violence in terms of the emotions they evoked. Humans were supposed to be afraid when they were entering a dangerous situation.
And they were supposed to be afraid of the damage they could do when they were packing the kind of tech he was packing into a civilian city. He had reviewed the specs of the ammunition and, while it was deemed nonlethal to Jurassians, it would not share that distinction for humans. Nor Aurealians. The shock lances would stop a human heart, and the foam bullets would crack their skulls. What the weapons would do to the Aurealians was less well established, as the Aurealians had been selective on how much of their medical information they willingly shared with their human contacts.
For understandable reasons, of course. They were in a war of extinction, and humans were an as yet unknown variable to them.
Athena reached zero, and a second later Nathan opened his eyes. He was no longer on the Theseus.
They were surrounded by Horthians. Dozens of Nameless civilians in a ring, staring in wonder. First at the drone which carried the PMT endpoint, and then at the Heavy squad which appeared out of nowhere. They’d probably never dreamed of PMT before. Humans had dreamed of it, or something like it, long before they’d figured out the quantum mechanics to make it work. Nathan was coming to appreciate that humans dreamed impossible things into reality all the time.
The old man began to speak. He was speaking Jurassian, or the Horthian dialect of it at least, but Nathan didn’t need the translation software to know what he was saying. He had been shown the script as it was written.
"I am Jon Cassonova of the UEOSC. I have come to speak with the overlord of this star system, known as Horthus. I and my companions intend no violence but are equipped and prepared to defend ourselves should violence be targeted against us. Our mission is one of vital importance, do not impede us. Do not attack us or your violence will be returned to you. I repeat, we are willing and capable of defending ourselves. If you initiate violence against us, you will not enjoy the outcome."
The Nameless simply looked at each other. A few said a few words, the only identifiable ones that Nathan could understand without the assistance of software were ‘human’ and ‘Joncassonva.’ Then, almost as if controlled by one mind, they dispersed, running into the city and disappearing like sand through a screen.
"Well, that went better than expected," Nathan commented. He took a step forward, and fell flat on his face, cracking the tarmac beneath him under the weight of his exoskeleton.
"Graceful. But the Russian judge gave it a 3," Tony commented.
"What the – my foot is stuck! It’s fused to the street! Athena, you fucked the dammed PMT targeting. There’s a reason we aim for several inches above the ground, dammit!" Nathan shouted.
"Reviewing logs. Error found. Investigating," Athena’s voice.
"Calm down, Nathan," the old man suggested in a hateful, sage voice. "It’s only your lower boot that is fused. Your physical foot isn’t affected, so you won’t need an amputation."
"Yeah, boss, that’s real reassuring. Now get to the part where we fucking fix it," Nathan shouted. "I don’t even know how to fix PMT fusion. I knew it was possible, but the safety protocols are supposed to prevent it from ever being an issue."
"Nathan, this is Katherine. Somehow the safety protocols on ‘Steve’ were overridden. Athena is looking into the source of the malfunction. Your personal protocols remain standard for human passengers, so you were never in any danger," came a professional, cold female voice over the coms.
"Thanks, Kathy, that’s very reassuring, but it doesn’t exactly help our mission if Steve is mission killed because of a computer glitch. How do we fix this ?" Nathan demanded, forcing his emotions back under control.
"There’s no way to undo PMT fusion," Kathy explained. "I do not have full access to your suits readouts so I can’t see how bad the damage to Steve’s lower leg is. Suggested actions are to disconnect or amputate the lowest affected region. It is a decision for a ground team whether or not the damage to your exoskeleton renders you incapable of contributing to the mission, I cannot make that determination from orbit."
Closing his eyes tightly, Nathan thought at Steve, putting the suit back into diagnostic mode.
"The left boot is fucked," he said finally. "The lowest disconnect point is above the ankle joint. It’s eight inches below my own foot, so it won’t affect my safety, but I won’t be able to walk like that."
"Disconnect it, then destroy it with your plasma lance," the old man instructed patiently. "We don’t want to give the Jurassians our materials to study, so be thorough. You are not mission killed, Nathan. Athena, change of operational plans. Heavy team is dividing into two, Heavy alpha and heavy beta. Heavy alpha consists of Nathan and Tony, Beta consists of Lucy and myself. Position commando team alpha and drone squadron beta to support heavy team Alpha, which will remain at insertion point while heavy beta continues with primary objective. Heavy team Alph will draw the Horthian response to our incursion as much as possible while attempting to limit damage to the city and civilian populations."
Stolen story; please report.
"Updating operational perimeters. Disseminating updates through Commando chain of command. Insertion points for Commando teams have been modified," Athena’s competent voice informed them.
Nathan hated operating in Diagnostic mode directly via brainjack. Stray thoughts could lead to serious malfunctions if he wasn’t careful, and when the system’s suit determined that an action would result in significant changes to the operational status – like crippling one foot while in the field – the safety protocols kicked in and Nathan had to think hard and deliberately in order to overcome them. Stray thoughts like ‘yes you jackass I’m serious’ could potentially reset the entire process to step one.
It took six tries in four minutes before he finally convinced Steve’s software that it really did need to disconnect its left foot at the ankle. Fortunately, the suit was designed to be serviced in the field, and the joint cleanly severed itself. Nathan knew he had a spare set of boots on the Athena, but while taking the foot off was simple, reconnecting a new one would require a level of dexterity which only the old man possessed at the moment, and an amount of time of which they were severely lacking.
Hobbling to the side, Nathan activated his plasma lance. A short range weapon, the lance used superheated plasma for antimaterial purposes, with temperatures and pressures ranging from the surface of stars to the cores of fusion generators. In low pressure environments, the lance would carry argon to supply the source of the plasma, but there was no need to carry or waste such a resource within the atmosphere of Horthus Prime when it could simply use a fan system to gather other gasses which would work just as well.
The lance quickly fed the plasma into the magnetic bottle it generated around the disconnected boot, raising the temperature and pressure to levels required to destroy the ceramics that they could not allow the Jurassians to study or attempt to replicate. The effect looked somewhat similar to holos he had seen of humans blowing glass using traditional methods, except that the plasma was brighter than the sun. He could only look at it because Steve was filtering his vision for him, or else it would have damaged his eyes.
Unfortunately, Steve was built of sturdy stuff. While much of the electronics and function of the exoskeleton’s disconnected limb was destroyed within seconds, the ablative armor was of the same materials used in the hulls of crafts with TORCH engines, designed to withstand the immense pressures, impacts, and temperatures that went along with traveling at relativistic and near relativistic speeds. It was not indestructible, but it was so durable that the plasma lance would take long minutes to perfectly destroy it.
The others did not wait for him. Lucy charged off in the direction of their objective, as did the old man. Lucy was wearing armor, like Tony’s but fully encapsulated and built to her frame, while the old man had merely switched out his prosthetics. He was larger, faster, stronger, with hidden weapons, but yet he looked more or less the same, except for the helmet he wore to protect his braincase. Lucy simply barreled straight through to the target, while the old man used his agility to scale buildings and take a circuitous route.
Tony stayed by his side.
"Heavy team alpha, incoming Horthians on your position. Looks like law enforcement, or some sort of first responders at least. They are armed, and their vehicles have weapons attached," Katherine’s professional voice informed them. "Rules of engagement have not changed. Return fire with nonlethal force only. Disabling and destruction of vehicles, weapon emplacements, and other infrastructure is authorized only when no loss of life is immediately foreseeable. Do not initiate or escalate beyond current ROE unless directed."
"Confirmed, Kathy," Nathan answered without pausing his actions.
"It is time to play with the mice," Tony said, pleasure obvious in his simulated voice. "Do not think I am abandoning you, Nathan, but I will leave you to draw their fire while I seek cover. I will support you from the shadows and high places."
"Just like the simulators, Tony, I know. Remember, we are trying very hard not to kill anybody."
"You never let me have any fun."
The uplifted great cat dashed away, leaping onto the side of one of the nearby buildings and swiftly climbing onto its roof, twenty stories high, before vanishing from sight. Nathan’s HUD, directly implanted into the vision processing centers of his brain via his brainjack, kept him appraised of all of his allies locations despite the lack of line of sight.
The tarmac around his boot was molten and bubbling, glowing in various shades as it approached the contact point with the plasma lance. The fused parts of his boot should have already been destroyed, if Nathan understood the nature of PMT fusion correctly. While safe to use for transportation into or out of gaseous, liquid, or low pressure environments, sending an object into a solid destination caused the atoms and molecules to overlap.
The resulting reaction was actually somewhat disappointing compared to the early suggestions that it might be a source of cheap fusion or transmutation. The atomic nuclei seldom came close enough for that purpose. The reaction could be explosive due to chemical reactions or changes in density. While the PMT fusion of his boot had damaged both the boot and the tarmac significantly, the damage had not been sufficient to rise to his attention before it had tripped him.
Just as his suits software was informing him that the most durable portions of his disconnected limb should have been destroyed beyond recovery, the Horthians began shooting at him.
~~~~~~~