We were a little worried about bug retaliation. Taking one of their ships might cross a line. So far, bug command didn’t seem to operate in that way. There had been several successful military operations that could have provoked them to draw a line in the sand. But there had been no devastating reprisals. That seemed a little odd. Despite the risk, our chain of command decided taking possession of a bug ship was worth it.
***
HAIL THE QUEEN
Muncle wanted to be our point-man. Uhhh, point-monkey. With that, he would be going in first, running fast, a minimal target with amazing eyesight. Mr. T would have our six, carrying his old Ma Deuce; that upgraded M2 Browning Machine Gun. With just 100 bullets the package weighs more than me. Mr. T is carrying a lot more than 100 bullets.
We tried to talk him into letting Para carry the thing when we go on ops. But he insists. We get a nice quip, maybe a line from some 70s song or something, “You’re talking about my .50? He ain’t heavy ... he’s my brother.” Yeah, the colorful side of Grandad. In training sessions, he always keeps up. I am seriously suspicious he picked up a colony of strength-nanites along with his mind reading abilities. He merely smiles when I ask. But it’s obvious.
I can’t handle the weight of a large caliber rifle for long, though I am a decent shot. Right now I’m comfortable with an M-16 and the old 5.56 NATO round. With a 3-round burst I always get a good grouping. I can handle the newer squad weapon firing the 6.8. But I grew up shooting an AR-15, so the M-16 is a natural fit, along with my nine-mil. At least for now.
The twins are carrying the squad 6.8s and sidearms, venerable old .45s. Good stopping power, the 6.8. Even against a soldier bug, as evidenced by the National Mall mission. Para is carrying a 6.8 on a sling, with her almost brand-new used Desert Eagle .50 as backup.
Grandad says we’ll all need to do some target practice and switch over to the 6.8. With that, we can interchange magazines and such. You know what I mean: Hey, I’m out, throw me a mag. That does make sense. So, okay, next time I’ll have the upgrade with me.
That Capital Mall ship had very low lighting. Because of that, we looked into requisitioning some night-vision goggles, but there was a backlog. Even better, Grandad found a way to get us on the fast track for the latest in IVAS headgear. IVAS, Integrated Visual Augmentation System. Those are AR <augmented reality> goggles which can overlay images and data without impacting views of the real world. Next mission. Can’t wait.
For this mission there are three objectives. Map the entire internal ship layout. Interrogate the queen bug. Appropriate the ship. The working theory is, the queen will be nesting in the very center of the ship, amidships, the safest place. Now we know we should have gone in early in the morning on Friday the 31st. Most of the bugs were out drinking beer and whatever else. Can you imagine that? There are reports from all over the world. Bugs drinking and causing mayhem. And I’m told they were out doing the same thing on the Friday before. Creatures of habit? We may have missed the opportunity of an almost empty ship.
Mr. T is calling us together. Time to go. We have ported to a hiding area that Rock found on recon. It’s near the ship and we are getting ready to do a “link and slink”. Roll says “cloak and roll.” But we definitely will link and slink. My ability, my terms.
So, I like cats, is that a problem? Get over it Roll. Oh, don’t give me your sneer face. I didn’t say anything about your untangle term, even though it’s already on 10-billion shampoo bottles. Quit pouting. I take it back. With the quantum association, it really is cleaver.
Time to move out. Cloak. Cloak. Cloak.
The ships energy shield was offline. That’s not unusual in the absence of hostilities. Well, that’s probably the case. No doubt the bugs can bring the shielding online at a moment’s notice. We walked up to a port door on the ship under cloak, totally invisible across the entire EM spectrum. Para inverted, grabbed the inset hatch handle, braced a leg against the ship hull, and heaved. There was a fairly muted cracking sound, and the hatch opened.
We moved back as a group using the hatch as cover. No fire came through the hatchway. Quick look. No bugs in sight, we stepped into the ship. I then noticed a continuous tone that seemed to match a vibration in the floor. An alarm was sounding. Sorry Muncle. No dashing monkey vanguard for this op.
With the alarm we decided to take this one nice and easy. And stay cloaked. Cloak. Cloak. Cloak. We took our time moving down the passageway. We figured this ship would be similar to the one in D.C. It was. The lighting was low with a reddish hue, cool air flowing. We knew the oxygen level would be higher than what we were used to. But it wasn’t high enough to cause a problem.
In fact, I felt as though I had more energy. Could have been the adrenaline. The walls and floor were smooth but not at all slippery. In the reddish light they seemed a matte black color.
Para was on full alert, but she did glance back at me. “This place is way too creepy.”
Altogether creepy. I didn’t notice any smells. Good HVAC. No noise to speak of. Our comm buds have good sound dampening tech. I’m sure we will be thankful for that. Especially if the .50 cal. starts rocking.
It
