Read Online Edge of Solace (A Star Too Far) by Casey Calouette - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Casey Calouette
Ads: Link
his head. “I’m not sure how much excitement you’ll find.”
Greer wrinkled his nose. “What do you mean, sir?”
“The colony is mostly Western Anabaptists and Maronite Christians.”
Greer blinked with his mouth open. “Western Anabaptists? Maronites?”
“One is an offshoot of the Amish, the other a sect of Orthodox Christians,” William replied.
Greer looked back around his table with a look of pure sadness. “Do they drink?”
William shrugged. “I’m not quite sure. Can’t say I know much about either. But in regards to shore leave , I’ll speak with the Captain.”
Greer sighed.
“Don’t worry Greer, you can always make up a good story about not getting drunk on a planet you didn’t get to visit, right?” Punjav said.
Greer glared back and sunk into his seat.
*
The suit stunk of old sweat and the tang of polyester worn a few times too many. It was held rigid as if a giant weight was strapped to it. Yamaguchi pushed and tried to stretch his arms and legs , feeling nothing but leaden deadness. His display winked red and told him in no uncertain terms that he was dead.
With a final ominous tone the simulation ended. The joints relaxed and the suit became flexible once more. The results scrolled across the screen and it wasn’t pretty. His landing team had, once again, been trounced by a combination of the AI and the Marines in the commons area. Publicly trounced.
He was glad the comms weren’t open. His breath slowed and he pushed the anger back. This was new to everyone. “Let’s do it again, keep your range from the striders, ignore the infantry, and push towards the objective. Stay in pairs, dammit—that’s you Kowalski, just like without the suits. Got it?”
It felt almost right inside the suit, almost like the feedback really worked properly. But it didn’t. Everything was out of sync by just a moment, a fraction of a second, enough to hit walls or miss targets. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t the simulation and was the suits themselves.
The command screen flickered by and he engaged the simulation. It counted down and he was on the ground, moving through high grass and pushing towards the objective. For now it was a red icon that burned on the edge of the map.
The sound of breathing and an occasional curse was all that was heard. The coordination in the squads was visible to each on the overhead display. A combination of implanted hardware and nanites linked and displayed everyone. Details were rendered and cover highlighted.
From the outside each of the armored suits were suspended from heavy cordage. The same mechanisms that propelled them on the ground offered resistance and feedback for a very real simulation. They swayed and danced like marionettes of a deadly purpose.
“Launch the first flight of drones ,” Yamaguchi ordered. He keyed the order with his eyes. The back of the suit shuddered. A stream of drones popped out and disappeared. Each of the drones winked and a window opened. Now he had eyes, but more than he could watch.
“Swing in past that warehouse , LT, good cover on the other side,” Sergeant Bale said.
Yamaguchi scanned the display quickly and saw the cover. He shifted his slow loping gait and tucked in along a corrugated warehouse. The drones ebbed above and displayed the top, the sides, and around the corner. All was clear.
The squads moved up in a seesaw motion in front of him. Pairs of the suits struggled in bursts of speed before holding a moment. He ticked paths, spots, orders, all silently.
“Movement, G5 ,” Sergeant Craig called out in a low monotone.
A yellow icon winked on Yamaguchi’s display. He watched from Craig’s suit and saw the form of a Strider duck back inside of a building.
“Torch it.” He continued forward.
“On the flank!” Corporal Paco cried.
The first of the friendly icons faded from green to a dull red.
“First squad wheel over and reinforce that edge!” He took a deep breath
Greer wrinkled his nose. “What do you mean, sir?”
“The colony is mostly Western Anabaptists and Maronite Christians.”
Greer blinked with his mouth open. “Western Anabaptists? Maronites?”
“One is an offshoot of the Amish, the other a sect of Orthodox Christians,” William replied.
Greer looked back around his table with a look of pure sadness. “Do they drink?”
William shrugged. “I’m not quite sure. Can’t say I know much about either. But in regards to shore leave , I’ll speak with the Captain.”
Greer sighed.
“Don’t worry Greer, you can always make up a good story about not getting drunk on a planet you didn’t get to visit, right?” Punjav said.
Greer glared back and sunk into his seat.
*
The suit stunk of old sweat and the tang of polyester worn a few times too many. It was held rigid as if a giant weight was strapped to it. Yamaguchi pushed and tried to stretch his arms and legs , feeling nothing but leaden deadness. His display winked red and told him in no uncertain terms that he was dead.
With a final ominous tone the simulation ended. The joints relaxed and the suit became flexible once more. The results scrolled across the screen and it wasn’t pretty. His landing team had, once again, been trounced by a combination of the AI and the Marines in the commons area. Publicly trounced.
He was glad the comms weren’t open. His breath slowed and he pushed the anger back. This was new to everyone. “Let’s do it again, keep your range from the striders, ignore the infantry, and push towards the objective. Stay in pairs, dammit—that’s you Kowalski, just like without the suits. Got it?”
It felt almost right inside the suit, almost like the feedback really worked properly. But it didn’t. Everything was out of sync by just a moment, a fraction of a second, enough to hit walls or miss targets. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t the simulation and was the suits themselves.
The command screen flickered by and he engaged the simulation. It counted down and he was on the ground, moving through high grass and pushing towards the objective. For now it was a red icon that burned on the edge of the map.
The sound of breathing and an occasional curse was all that was heard. The coordination in the squads was visible to each on the overhead display. A combination of implanted hardware and nanites linked and displayed everyone. Details were rendered and cover highlighted.
From the outside each of the armored suits were suspended from heavy cordage. The same mechanisms that propelled them on the ground offered resistance and feedback for a very real simulation. They swayed and danced like marionettes of a deadly purpose.
“Launch the first flight of drones ,” Yamaguchi ordered. He keyed the order with his eyes. The back of the suit shuddered. A stream of drones popped out and disappeared. Each of the drones winked and a window opened. Now he had eyes, but more than he could watch.
“Swing in past that warehouse , LT, good cover on the other side,” Sergeant Bale said.
Yamaguchi scanned the display quickly and saw the cover. He shifted his slow loping gait and tucked in along a corrugated warehouse. The drones ebbed above and displayed the top, the sides, and around the corner. All was clear.
The squads moved up in a seesaw motion in front of him. Pairs of the suits struggled in bursts of speed before holding a moment. He ticked paths, spots, orders, all silently.
“Movement, G5 ,” Sergeant Craig called out in a low monotone.
A yellow icon winked on Yamaguchi’s display. He watched from Craig’s suit and saw the form of a Strider duck back inside of a building.
“Torch it.” He continued forward.
“On the flank!” Corporal Paco cried.
The first of the friendly icons faded from green to a dull red.
“First squad wheel over and reinforce that edge!” He took a deep breath
Similar Books
