38. Dark and darker
John accepted Victoria’s offer to go down to the wreckage. This time with Michael and his commando leading, he had no reason to worry. At…
John accepted Victoria’s offer to go down to the wreckage. This time with Michael and his commando leading, he had no reason to worry. At least his mind knew this, not the nerves all over his body. Managed to control his shaking as he entered the firing range.
Glad having two days before they drop to the surface, he spent all waking minutes training. A basic level comes with life in space. Humanity weakened during modern times spending all their time in couches, office chairs. Space added the frequent low or no gravity times further weakening muscles.
Michael’s team regularly trained in higher forces, sometimes hitting double Gs. This way they can deploy to any planets, any environments and able to execute their missions.
John sweating ten minutes in. He made up his lack of strength with resolve and endurance. The GI Joes and Janes switching every hour or so around him, he stayed seemingly forever in the gym area. A couch came to him after half a day to politely get him out before he injures himself.
Then he just continued practice at the firing range. Battling a gag reflex at first, with each muzzle fire flashing the still picture of his deadly shot. Soon the gagging subsided, a nervous rage taking root instead. The rollercoaster of emotions seemingly never ending as he reloads again and again.
While his obsessions propelled him to the lead investigator role, he could be buried by them too.
In his narrow view, the two days passed almost instantly to find himself suited up by a sergeant of the rapid deployment squad. Michael’s baritone droning in the background, narrating the mission specs for his team. His comrades, his friends, his brothers and sisters in arms.
John was too occupied to pay attention for the briefing. Fortunately, he wrote most of it with Hanah and Victoria editing a few details and delivery. The suit he had to wear was a simplified version of the commando’s armor kit. Reduced offensive capabilities, similar survivability provided for the VIPs the squad was tasked to guard.
The integrated exoskeleton multiplying the human strength, the armor plating deflecting small arms fire without a dent, the augmented reality feeding intel on the go.
The kit worked better with implants, but the designers took care of naturalists too by adding glasses for the heads up display and non-invasive brain activity reads. Of course around John every single commando had military grade brain implants for maximum precision and minimal reaction times.
In a few minutes, Michael and team lined up for embarkation. A strange metal pod for metal peas to take their stands inside. A smart design, able to quickly penetrate atmospheres and have enough energy to return to orbit on their own. From there a troop transport ship can tow them or the mother ship can take them on board directly.
John was locked in to his place by quick release bolts the sergeant masterfully applied when a newcomer entered to the last free stand. With her helmet off, Victoria’s long hair rained down over her bulky metal armor.
- “Respectfully, you should not go down there, ma’am.” — Michael’s duty to protect his captain could not entirely erase his look full of awe and respect.
Even for John it was evident looking at the captain that she knew the way around. The armor scratched at the bolts’ contact points, dents here and there, all telling a story of previous deployments.
And the differences in color scheme stood out for John. Victoria’s armor was perfectly matching her dimensions and the metal finish looked dated, matte dark gray and dull accentuations. While Michael and team almost shined in their flashy black, immaculate armors with golden lines of rank identification.
- “I need some stretching. The politicians’ earful starts to get me.” — her grinning met with a few chuckles, most inaudible and presented only in helmet bobbing. — “To be clear, Mr. Rivera is in charge of this away mission. I am just tagging along.”
- “Yes, ma’am.” — all squad-mate in chorus.
- “Ma’am, the ISV executive arrived and wants to speak with you and the one in charge of the investigation.” — came through Victoria’s private channels popping her cheerful atmosphere.
- “Tell him I am indisposed and will come back to him as soon as I can.” — whipped back on the channel, her helmet shielding it from the tightly spaced squad around.
- “And about the investigator in charge…”
- “You can make something up, Sebes out.”
- “Is everyone ready? Go or no-go answers.” — Michael got rapid replies from his team, Victoria, even drop control and deck clearance. — “Mr. Sotomayor, are we go or no go?”
- “Wait, still running diagnostics.”
- “The suit should be fine.”
- “It’s my recorders. Anything down there can be evidence, but only stands if the data and visual recorders are confirmed and processes followed. Just a minute, Lieutenant.”
- “Fine, we wait.”
A dozen dark suit standing in their alcoves perfectly still, composition reminding Victoria of the faceless heroes monument once she visited with military class. After the restoration of Earth’s atmosphere, they erected a memorial for the generations upholding humanity, twelve obsidian human form circling a granite Earth model.
- “A ranger, an alien and a beef enter the bar…”
- “No, Hallen, just please, no.”
- “Bartender asks, how can I serve you today? Ranger goes I serve my home, whiskey on the rocks will do. Alien goes …”
- “All good, go.” — comes from John
- “Finally, initiate drop.”
Read the story leading up to now:
