“Yes, nice, I can see that, Spartan!” Marcus said, he couldn’t stop a little smile escaping.
The shaft shook and Spartan could see three recruits drifting from one of the other access hatches, a series of sparks and smoke indicating the door had blown out with an improvised charge.
Teresa banged her armoured hand against the side of the shaft as he shouted. “Nice work! Looks like it’s just us left then.”
Jesus entered the shaft and activated his boots, following him were four more recruits, the rest had been picked off on the way in.
“Damn, we lost four then, trying to get here,” said Spartan to himself. “This is Charlie Squad, anybody from Alpha or Bravo still in action?” he asked over the secure communications channel.
“Two of us are pinned down near the medical station, rest of my squad is wasted!” came a familiar voice, he was sure it was Burnett.
“That you, Burnett, who else is with you?”
There was a pause for a few seconds, “Just me and Matt.”
Spartan looked at Teresa and Marcus who grinned back at him.
“Hang in there, stay in cover, we’re coming from the loading airlock. ”
The heavy suits were slow, much slower than the normal suits, but there was nothing they could do to speed things up. As they reached a few metres from the half-open door ahead two recruits popped their head outs and opened fire. Marcus leaned to the side lowering his left arm to reveal a very quick modification he had done. He’d strapped the three L48 rifles that he, Spartan and Teresa had been issued with to the metal mountings and run a cable inside his suit. He had also fitted the optional small calibre, close assault module and ammunition boxes. It was ridiculous overkill but the result was mightily impressive. He pulled the trigger and the three weapons opened fire with their small calibre rounds.
It was a surreal sight as the rapid flashes signalled the discharge of the silent weapons. Hundreds of rubber tipped rounds blasted through the shaft and easily hit the recruits as well as another two that were moving in to reinforce them. Even funnier was that the bullets forced the recruits backwards and along the shaft as they lost their grip.
“Yeah!” Spartan shouted, as he pushed ahead and into the junction room that led to different parts of the station.
He stomped ahead to the shaft directly ahead. With this route now secure, the four new arrivals each in their normal armour made quick progress into the shafts and proceeded to move in on the enemy command room. By splitting apart the four recruits would be able to strike the target area from four directions. Marcus and Teresa moved up to the flanks of Spartan.
“I’m receiving complaints from the defenders that some of you are ignoring your hits,” came a voice over the intercom, it was the Drill Sergeant.
“Bullshit, the front armour on these suits is proof for twenty millimetre anti-tank rounds,” said Spartan abruptly.
“Indeed, somebody has done their homework, continue,” came the reply.
“Spartan Unit in position,” Marcus said with a sly smile.
“Spartan Unit? You kidding?” Teresa laughed.
Spartan looked at them both, turning his head before looking back at the last door. He spoke quietly. “On the other side of this door is a ten metre shaft that leads directly into the Command Centre. Jesus, give us the word when your team is in position.”
Jesus was positioned a short distance away and moving to follow the four other recruits. He turned giving a hand signal as he disappeared into one of the small shafts.
Spartan lifted his armoured arms in front of the suit. Because of the tools and hydraulics, as well as the added armour, it was like a complicated heavy metal shield that could easily protect the wearer from most of the incoming fire. Teresa did the same, pushing the metal in front of them for protection.
“We’re in position,” came the message from Jesus.
Spartan nodded, looking at the two standing next to him.
“Okay, I rip open the door then we push the armour forward. As we distract them, you drop in on the flanks and take them out one at a time. Remember, single shots, keep in cover and take them out. Understood?”
A chorus of affirmative gave him his answer. Spartan slowly pushed the hatch forward with his hands, knowing the door may be rigged with a charge. He pushed the blades from his hand into the metal wrenching the side of the hatch away. As the door drifted off he was surprised to find no charges set.
“Bet they left it open for us to walk into,” said Teresa as she looked about for the enemy.
“Follow me!” Spartan pushed ahead and into the shaft.
They followed Spartan closely, both looking for signs of trouble. Marcus brought up the rear and ensured they weren’t attacked from behind.
As soon as they reached the end of the shaft they were in the Command Centre. Literally as soon as Spartan’s foot clunked into place, the room lit up with the muzzle flashes of the dozen surviving recruits. Round after ineffectual round clattered off their armour. Teresa moved up to Spartan’s left and raised her arms, deflecting most of the rounds from her thickly armoured suit.
“Now!” Spartan shouted.
It was over almost as soon as it had begun. The hatches in four different places popped open and flashes of movement indicated the rounds blasting the survivors. In just five seconds, the defenders were out of the fight. The avalanche of fire stopped and everything seemed to stop moving.
“Jesus, take your unit and get Burnett and Matt secured.” Spartan ordered.
“Affirmative.”
Back in the Command Centre, the three recruits moved inside, checking for survivors. The so-called killed defenders kept to the sides and out of the way of the exercise. Spartan saw a reflection and made to move his hand when Teresa spotted movement behind them. She moved quickly, looking to place her heavy frontal armour between Spartan and the enemy but she wasn’t fast enough. As the men opened fire though Marcus intercepted them. He was slightly to the side and had been checking one of the hatches. He opened fire with his improvised assault arm that was still fitted with the modified weapons and hit the two attackers with over a hundred rounds.
A light flashed inside Spartan’s suit, indicating a hit to a valve. A computerised voice spoke, indicating he had suffered a critical hit.
“Cease fire. End of exercise!” came the order over the intercom. “All recruits report to the briefing room in thirty minutes for debrief, out!”
“Man, that guy needs to learn to lower his blood pressure!” said Marcus.
The three looked at each other, only Spartan’s suit failure light flashed.
“Well, two out of three isn’t bad,” Teresa said.
The briefing room was packed with the exhausted recruits. The competitors sat together, but apart. It was incredible how one group of people could feel as much friends as they were enemies. That was the price of competition Spartan thought to himself.
The Drill Sergeant entered the room and marched up in front of them.
“That was an interesting exercise and I’m pleased to say some of you survived to tell the tale. The defender team suffered one hundred percent casualties. That is thirty-two out of thirty-two killed in action. Before you get excited, only nine survived from the attackers but that is still damned fine odds for this mission.”
He walked along the line, looking at each of them in turn before stopping.
“Will the survivors please stand up.”
Two groups of people stood up, Burnett and Matt at one end and Spartan’s group at the other.
“Now look here, nine recruits, nine fighters, some of whom probably wanted to slam the others’ heads against the bulkhead managed to achieve a total victory against an enemy that was dug into a superior position. Outstanding!”
He continued walking along the front of the group, this time paying attention to those standing.
“What’s your name, marine?” he asked.
Some of the recruits looked at each other in surprise, it was the first time they had heard him use that word.
