Episode 24

Amateurs

A message from Command scrolled in our HUDs. “Autodestruct security updated. Standby for orders.” The squad began speculating about what would happen next.

“They’re gonna to evacuate us back to the ship, right?”

“Not likely, if they’ve already installed a patch.”

“They’re going to fuck’in send us back in. I just know it.”

A new notification arrived, “Autodestruct/master/armed”. It was followed closely by a text with attachments. New orders. Then the grumbling began in earnest.

“Oh shit.”

“Orders? Wonderful.” Someone said sarcastically.

“How do they even know if their patch will work? Did they test it?”

“It’ll get tested when they send us back in.”

Merc put an abrupt stop to the griping. “Everyone shut up! Command could have AD’d us all when we were retreating, and they didn’t. As far as I’m concerned, we got lucky. Now review your orders and speak up if you have questions.”

There was silence for a moment while everyone studied the new plan.

Downloading the new orders cleared the previous mission’s data and updated the maps in my HUD. I scanned the new mission profile. The only thing that seemed to have changed was the main objective. We were still assaulting the collection of buildings specified in the previous mission, but now the objective was identified as a specific building. Another twist in the revised mission was a prohibition on the use of any weapons inside the target building itself.

We were to occupy the building and defend it against any enemy attempts to reoccupy or destroy it. Command clearly wanted to protect whatever was inside.

Merc commented on the new mission. “Okay, it looks pretty straightforward. This time, we’re targeting only one building and we’ll need to defend it against the enemy if he shows up.

We don’t know if we’re going to have opposition on the way in, or if the enemy will hit us only after we reach the objective. For this operation, we’re going in with only 3 squads. 2nd and 6th squads will be on our right flank, so make sure you don’t send any rounds in their direction. The rest of the troops will be held in reserve if we get into trouble.

It’ll be the same order of battle as before, drones in first, followed by the AAVs, then everyone else. Any questions?” My only question was whether this was some kind of battlefield punishment for our unauthorized withdrawal, or a test to see if Command’s security patch worked. Probably both, I thought cynically.

While Merc conducted a brief Q&A with the squad, I was approached by a Marine who went by the handle ‘Professor’.

“Hey Outline. Hold still while I wire you up.” He was holding an AUX cable and connector in one hand and a nondescript black box in the other. I didn’t like the idea of someone I didn’t know attaching anything to my AAV.

“What is that?”

“It’s an extra video feed. Merc wants to have a tape of you in combat so he can coach you after the mission.”

I was immediately suspicious. “Can’t he just watch the recorded video from the AAV? I mean, we all have multiple cameras recording everything we do and say in combat.” I wondered if I was being set up for something.

“Relax, it’s just a backup in case Command edits the combat footage. Merc likes to see everything unfiltered.” I wasn’t sure what to make of his explanation, but I didn’t seem to have a choice in the matter. I watched anxiously as he hooked up the “extra feed”.

A flock of drones gathered briefly overhead before flying off towards the objective. I watched as their feeds streamed in my HUD, the battlefield effortlessly flowing past as they retraced our assault route.

Merc shouted, “Move out!” and so we began our second assault on the objective.

I followed my exact route from before. I figured there was no point in risking running over a nasty surprise, like a mine left by the enemy. I wished I could traverse the battlefield as easily as the drones, but I was in a heavy armored assault vehicle, a rattling bucket of bolts, lurching clumsily over the rough terrain. I tracked our progress on the map overlay as the distance between us and the objective shrank.

After only one disastrous combat mission, I wasn’t close to being a veteran, but I had at least gotten through the initial shock of combat. Oddly, I was feeling calmer now that we had begun the assault. I wasn’t sure if I had magically developed more confidence on the battlefield, or if I was simply more accepting that my fate wasn’t in my hands. Odder still, was how I could find the wherewithal to philosophize about my fate, while actively participating in combat. Go figure.

The leaders of the three squads kept in constant communication with each other as we neared the objective. The ongoing narration helped to boost our situational awareness. It also made me feel less isolated as I bounced along in my armored box.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Champ 2-2. 500 meters out. Still no contact.”

“2-7. Nothing yet.”

“2-6. Hey Champ, hold up so we can pull even with you. I don’t want you in my field of fire.”

“2-2. Roger that.”

It was only after we’d gotten within 200 meters of the target that I realized none of us had spontaneously auto-destructed. Command’s IT team must be the real deal.

“2-7. We’re in position, 100 meters north of the target building.”

“2-2. Roger 2-7. Getting into position now.

“2-6. Ready on your go Merc.”

Our orders were to enter and secure the target building, so a technical team could be delivered to analyze whatever was in there. If it was alien technology, the building would undoubtedly be rigged to auto-destruct. The trick would be getting inside without getting vaporized in the process.

There was a door visible on the north side of the building. Merc advised the other squad leaders to hold while he sent a team in to check it out.

“Looks like we’ve got an access point on this side of the target building. Standby while we take a look.”

Then he said, “Jones, move up and breach that door.” It was only then that I realized Merc meant, take a look inside. He cautioned Jones, “It’s going to be boobytrapped, so breach it from behind cover.” Then he looked over at me and said, “Take Outline with you. The rest of us will provide covering fire.”

My self-preservation instinct kicked in as Jones stood and gestured for me to join him. “Come on. Let’s go.” Even though I was in a relatively well protected AAV, I had to resist the impulse to flee from the danger ahead. Instead, I reluctantly rolled forward.

Jones motioned for me to take point position. It looked like I was going to be his shield in case of enemy fire. I began moving towards the door with Jones on my 6 o’clock. I hadn’t gone 25 feet when I began seeing heat signatures appearing in my thermal imaging system. Shit.

Barely detectable visual distortions, picked up by my optical sensors, suggested the enemy was using active camouflage. It produced a shimmering effect when the user moved as the system struggled to reproduce the constantly shifting background image. But when the user was stationary, they were completely invisible. Thankfully, they were still detectable with thermal imaging.

Jones called them out. “Contact! We’ve got 5, 6 targets ahead.” I watched as more enemy images appeared on my thermal sensors. They were clustered around the target building, not more than 80 meters out.

Jones corrected himself. “Make that 20 plus targets! It’s gonna get messy!”

Messy indeed, I thought, as I switched my 20mm minigun to auto-targeting mode. There was the familiar whine as the cluster of 20 mm gun barrels began spinning. Up to this point, things felt just like a simulator session, but that was about to change.

The enemy opened up first. Small arms fire began hitting my AAV. It was more of an annoyance than a threat, as a steady stream of rounds ticked against the heavily armored front plates. They sounded like small hailstones. Jones calmly encouraged me to keep moving. “You’re doing good. Just hold your fire and keep rolling.”

The volume and intensity of enemy fire increased. Instead of ticks accented by the occasional ting of a ricochet, the impacts became loud thunks, interspersed with even louder bangs as my reactive armor began exploding. Things were beginning to get serious.

Jones yelled, “Blast those fuckers!”

The minigun’s targeting reticle automatically selected the nearest thermal image and flashed green. I hit the virtual fire button and unleashed a 5000 round per minute firestorm.

Explosive rounds left the barrels of the minigun at 1100 meters per second. The range finder calculated the distance to the targets and set their detonators to explode literally in the faces of the enemy. I watched as the thermal images began disappearing from my HUD. Each image represented an enemy combatant obliterated by a merciless stream of 20mm explosive rounds.

I was devastating the enemy forces in front of us. It seemed so easy. In the sim, I would watch my points total accumulate as I gunned down hordes of virtual enemy targets. But there were no counters tallying up points here, just disintegrating enemy targets.

The temperature indicator in the corner of my HUD turned from green, to yellow, and then to red, as my minigun began overheating. Soon, it would trigger the auto-stop safety to prevent damage to the weapon. I switched to short bursts and willed my weapon to keep firing. The minigun shutdown as the last targets were destroyed. Smoke poured from its overheated barrels.

I kept scanning the area for more targets, but there were none. The enemy had been completely consumed in the brief but violent firefight.

Merc’s voice came over the squad frequency, snapping me out of my trance. “Good job guys! Move up and prepare to breach.”

Jones and I began moving forward. As we approached the enemy position, I switched to my optical sensors to survey my handiwork. I was expecting to find heaps of mangled robotic weapons systems. What I saw instead, was a scene straight out of a horror film.

Pieces of biological soldiers were strewn over a wide area. Things that belonged inside their bodies, now lay hideously exposed. Some of the internal organs laying in the dirt looked vaguely familiar. And the blood. It was everywhere, turning a dark brown as it soaked into the soil of Trappist-1e.

I wanted to turn away but couldn’t. It was as if my sensor array was force feeding me the horrific images. I could feel the shocking scene burning itself irrevocably into my digitally remanufactured consciousness. My CPU would bear eternal witness to the slaughter.

Jones observed the carnage and scoffed, his contempt for the enemy obvious. ” Fucking amateurs. Look at ‘em! They aren’t even wearing body armor."

It was true. The alien soldiers had engaged us with light weapons and without any protection whatsoever. I couldn’t understand what drove them to such a suicidal defense against overwhelming opposition. What could the point have been?

Finally able to tear my gaze away from the devastation, I looked up towards our objective. The entry door to the target building stood just ahead, framed by a fresco of blood spatter on an otherwise unblemished wall.

Jones moved up to the door, inspecting it closely with his sensors and sharing the images with the squad through mil-net. He and Merc discussed the next steps.

Merc advised, “First of all, get away from that door. Move back about 50 meters, get behind cover and hit it with some 30mm rounds. It’s definitely rigged to explode; a couple of hits and it should blow. Then, we enter and see what the hell is inside.”

Jones responded, “Roger. Standby.” Jones turned and started walking in my direction. He gestured for me to move back, further away from the building. I was only too glad to comply.

I glanced back toward where 7th squad had taken cover. There wasn’t anyone visible. They were already hunkered down, sheltering from the impending blast. I felt dangerously exposed out in the open and began searching for cover. My best option seemed to be a deep shell crater to my left. As I rolled up to its edge and prepared to drop in, I turned to check on Jones.

He was a ways off, ambling in my direction with his weapon held loosely in one hand. I admired the way he exuded a Zen-like calm on the battlefield, even while preparing to trigger an enemy IED with an unknown amount of explosive force. Jones was … pretty fuckin’ cool.

It wasn’t until much later that I learned this was my last memory from our brief visit to Trappist-1e.