I got to the dropship when the quargs were still shaking the hills and ravines in search of the missing enemy scouts. The robot ran to the aid of its infantry a long time ago, leaving the wounded in the care of the pilot and another quarg in the armor, who was assigned to the dropship apparently for security. Now the pilot was fiddling with the suit of the wounded quarg lying on the dropped ramp of the ship, and the guard was standing there, looking around.
Two dry clicks of my sniper rifle shots scattered across the hilly plain. The enemies sank down on the ground like weak puppets, but the signal of the attack on the dropship must have gone to the main group of quargs. Of course, I was hoping that my jammer wouldnt let that signal get through, but the distance from which I fired did not let me be entirely certain, especially considering the fact that my position was not between the dropship and the main enemy forces, but on the side, otherwise I just wouldnt see the target.
I ran without saving energy and squeezing maximum speed out of my gear. Every second could have been crucial. I didnt kill the wounded quarg, just shoved him off the ramp with the pilots body and dived into the shadowy insides of the quarg dropship. I almost fell over a body in a space suit. That was a human space suite. Anton Gnezdoff was lying on the side of the ship and showed no sign of life. I saw a ragged hole in the chest plate of his armor, it looked like he was hit by a large shard. But the private was alive although unconscious. I couldnt afford to look into his condition now and jumped further to the cockpit.
With the completion of operation at Luyten-5, I had quite a lot of time on my way back to Ganymede. Jeff and I had something to do. Remembering my adventures in a terribly uncomfortable quarg techʼs suit, I decided to throw away everything that had nothing to do with hacking enemy machines out of this suit. We mercilessly dismantled the armor, the weapons, the positioning and sighting system, the scanners and even the exoskeleton itself. So, as a result, it turned out to be a pretty compact device, which, if you wanted to, could be easily installed inside our human, heavy infantry space suit. And, of course, as I gathered up my equipment for this trip, I hadnt forgotten about this device. The challenge was something else. Ive never tried to hack a flying quarg machine, and all my knowledge of it was theoretical. But there was no other way, especially in light of the discovery of wounded Anton in the dropship.
I activated the equipment. Lucky for me, the dropship didnt hide any surprises compared to combat robots. It was protected far worse than the Mammoths and even the Small Dragons, so, eight minutes later, I had the enemy machine in my hands. Except Ive never flown one of these before. In a previous life, I did well piloting a small troop transport Cuirassier, in this life I piloted our dropship. But Ive never had a quarg flying machine in my hands before. It was required to take immediate action, so I plunged without doubt into a mad picture, which the enemy vehicles targeting and navigation system projected on my helmetʼs visor. For taking off like this, our pilot instructor would have killed me if I were there, then hed bring me back to life by means of a mighty kick in the ass and would kill me again. He would repeat the procedure until the necessary pedagogical effect was achieved.
The dropship was wobbling from side to side. I almost hit the nearest hill but only slightly grazed it and raised a cloud of sand. Nevertheless, I was flying. It was a good thing no ones tried to shoot me yet. The machine I was flying was an easy target now.
At first I just flew away. Having realized that I can already, somehow or other, manage horizontal flight and careful maneuvering, I turned my attention to weapons. There were no thermobaric rocket launching containers that are so dear to the heart of any human commando. Instead, quargs suspended under one of the short wings an additional high-speed aircraft gun, and under the other wing an air-to-air missile launcher with a laser-optical guidance system, which is used to follow the target manually. Looked like that was who shot on our planes and the dropship. Judging by the amount of missiles used up, Id say it was so. The quargs knew wed send a rescue team for the scouts. They flew in early, picked up a position, disguised the dropship, turned on the EW station, and quietly waited for guests. It was a perfectly sensible decision. But an evil brigadier general showed up and ruined the party. At least, lets hope so.
I was no longer interested in the group of quargs running around the hills. I remembered there was still one missile left in the Small Dragons backpack, and at my level of piloting, meeting that missile didnt seem like a good idea. I bypassed the threatened area along a wide arc, pressing the dropship belly against the hills, and even sometimes diving into the most spacious gorges. By my calculations, Ive already beat Lieutenant Egorovs team by ten kilometers. I didnt risk arriving to them on an enemy dropship. They could just begin shooting before they can figure it out. Having landed the capricious machine in a small hollow, I went to the landing bay and squatted down in front of Anton. The quargs didnt deactivate his suit. Thats all that kept the Private alive. The embedded first aid kit was doing what it could, but its prognosis was getting more and more threatening. If Gnezdoff isnt in the hospital within the next five hours, theres no way to save him. Which means we probably wont have time to land in our control zone and call for help. Im gonna have to brazenly fly the enemy machine right onto the runway of the special forcesʼ base. I donʼt think Iʼd be welcome
I caught the beacon signal two hours later. I couldnt waste time any more, so I took the dropship in the air.
* * *
A group that had already lost two people was moving east pretty vigorously. But it was OK just for now. There was still power left in the accumulators for another five hours. Lieutenant Egorovs mood was getting worse by the minute. He didnt see a real way out and led the group forward out of sheer stubbornness. Kay Shefferson raised his hand, urging the group to stop.
Commander, Ive picked up a drone, a human one. But this is not my dragonfly, its something else.
Soon they saw the device. It slowly approached, circled the group with a slight buzzing and withdrew behind the ridge of the nearest hill.
John, look what it is, ordered Alexey.
The sniper went up the hill, raised an optical scanner over its ridge, and then he went straight down to the squad.
Theres a quarg dropship, Commander. Its on the ground, the ramp is open, and near it stands our Cadet in his barn with guns. He waved at me.
Are you not overheated, John? Send me the file.
When the Lieutenant started playing it, he looked for a few seconds into the image projected onto the helmet visor, then silently slapped the sniper on the shoulder, made a sign to the subordinates to follow and climbed the hill.
* * *
Major Weber was pulled from the table by the howl of an air-raid warning.
Duty Officer, report! ordered the Major via communicator.
An enemy dropship has entered the control zone.
Alone? No cover?
Thats right. Altitude is one kilometer. It flies slowly. Doesnt maneuver. It makes an ideal target.
Wait, Lieutenant. Somethings wrong here. Ive never noticed quarg suicidal tendencies before.
It could be a diversion, or it could be a simulator.
Put the battalion on combat alert. Make air defence equipment fully operational. The dropship can launch missiles from ten kilometers. How far is it now?
105. If it doesnt change speed, itll enter the firing range in fifteen minutes.
Call the interceptors.
Yes, Sir! Major, Sir! Theres a signal from the dropship! Its unstable yet. I cant make it out. But the coding is ours.
What the hell?.. Turn it on me.
The Majors office was filled with cracking noise through which sometimes incoherent pieces of words burst. But with each passing minute, the distance decreased and the quality of the communication improved.
ship calls ber Dropship Major Weber. tenant Egorovs group returns from mis Pri seriously wounded. Request emergency evacuation to hospi
Scheißer! Dont shoot! shouted the Major via communicator. Call back the interceptors! Get medics and emergency crew on the runway right away.
* * *
Major, Sir, have you sent Cadet Lavroff back to Academy?
Yes, I have, Lieutenant. He earned the low-level combat experience he needed in one mission abundantly. His practice ended there, so the Cadet left. And he took the dropship with him as a legal trophy. I didnt mind.
Thats a pity, I had no time to talk to him. You have introduced me to the promotion. Id be happy to give him my group, with a completely calm conscience. When he finishes his studies, naturally.
Youre still a rookie, Lieutenant, Webber laughed so hard, Havent you read his file?
At first, there was no time, Lieutenant was embarrassed, And then there was no need. It just became clear what a man was worth.
Would you at least look out of curiosity, squeezed the Major out of laughter, Who did you want to offer the group to? This Cadet of yours had been commanding a Heavy Commando Brigade for a month on the quargs-occupied Luyten-5. Generals are certainly waiting for him to graduate from the Academy, the Generals with such shoulder straps that you and I are very far away. Well, Lieutenant. Its been a long time since Ive had this much fun.
Chapter 1
The front didnt collapse, but it cracked quite a bit. As it turned out later, this was the first, but very bad, wake-up call that marked a difficult time for people. A distracting quarg strike on the Luytens system caused the Earth Federation to react sharply, and draw on significant reserves to address the threat. As a result, it was almost impossible to counterbalance a strong and unexpected blow in the other direction it was an attack on the Federation planets of stars Gliese-338 and Groombridge-1618. This led to a serious defence crisis, which the people were unable to overcome quickly.
When I returned to the Academy, the high command was in a very nervous state. Reserves have been raked out wherever its been possible, and Lieutenant General Schiller had to reluctantly agree to the early graduation of third-year cadets. As it happens in such cases those cadets received only one star on their shoulder straps instead of two and the rank of second lieutenant, which was rare in the army. Suddenly I was out of the job as an instructor, since it was the graduate course of the Academy that mastered the captured machines.
Academy director called me back to his office. When I tried to report, he waved it away annoyingly and silently pointed me to the meeting table.
Cadet Lavroff, began gloomily the General, whose mood fluctuated at the mark below the skirting board, youve certainly done a great job, and you are a hero. Colonel Kreps sent me Major Webers report on your practice. For your rescue mission, he recommended you for the Iron Cross. We, Germans, prefer to recommend deserving soldiers for precisely this award. A light shadow of smile appeared on the Generals gloomy face. Kreps approved the recommendation, punch a hole in the tunic.
Serving the Earth Federation.
Ehh, yes. And you serve it pretty good. Except with the situation on the front Do you know, Lavroff, when was the last time we had to throw undertrained cadets into battle? Forced to sign the order for the early graduation of the third course the General couldnt calm down.
That was in the first year of the was with quargs, General, Sir.
Thats it. Twenty years ago. Do you understand where we have returned?
These are temporary difficulties caused by the strategic error and intelligence deficiencies. We shall undoubtedly prevail, Gen
Put ranks aside, Cadet.
Yes, Sir.
Youre right! The recon guys have overslept, to put it mildly, preparations for strikes on Gliese and Groombridge. And right you are about the Luytens system too much force was thrown in there, although this mistake may have saved the lives of you personally and of our freshmen.
Not of all of them, unfortunately.
Not of all of them. This is war, Cadet, you know it as good as me, or better yet, I havent been in a fight in a while. And thats the second question I want to discuss with you. Weve already lost almost half our freshmen and weve lost the opportunity to prepare well our graduates. I wouldnt be surprised if they cut the curriculum down to two years. Now freshmen, your comrades, are better prepared for battle than sophomore cadets, and, probably better than those fresh second lieutenants who have just been graduates. I need practical advice based on your combat experience. I have to turn the remaining cadets into officers who will not be killed in the first battle with their units. Dont look at me with wild eyes. Yes, the General asks the Cadet to share his combat experience. Have you recently looked in the mirror at your qualification tab?
I can tell you one thing, if it wasnt for the six months we spent at the Academy, none of us would have come back from Luyten-5. When our ship was hit by several shells and began to drift uncontrollably towards the planet, the cadets remained a capable military formation despite the deaths of the officers. The platoon commanders did not lose control of their subordinates, and as a result, the landing took place with minimal casualties. Youve prepared us well, Lieutenant General, Sir. What we had frankly missed was heavy weaponry and experience of guerrilla activities and sabotage. If it wasnt for Captain Mbias men, I dont know how wed get away with it. Im afraid that in the new circumstances commandos will be regularly caught in such situations of complete encirclement and isolation from the main forces. We need knowledge in this sphere and reconnaissance equipment. Ive been meaning to report my proposals to establish a special recon platoon equipped as regular scouts in each commando battalion, but since you called me yourself, Id like to take this opportunity.
Usually, scouts are assigned to commandos at the time of landing, if the command deems it necessary. Your case was special. No one was planning on sending you into battle, so you had to work it out on your own. I do not yet see arguments in favor of a special platoon in each battalion.
You told us yourself that a saboteur and a commando are different military specialties. From Captain Mbias men, Im very well aware of that. Theyre good scouts, but theyre not first line fighters. They cant be sent to attack. They just dont have the training and equipment for this kind of battle, and I was desperately short of men on Luyten-5 who could attack in the regimental order of battle, and then, if necessary, become saboteurs. Everyone in the landing party has to fight. This rule has been known since pre-Cosmic times, here again its been far-fetched from the experience of my past life.