Read Online Merkiaari Wars: 02 - What Price Honour by Mark E. Cooper - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mark E. Cooper
Tags: Science-Fiction, Space Opera, Military, War, alien invasion, cyborg, space marines, merkiaari wars
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and time she was gone. Taking a last look around, she locked the hatch before heading west into the jungle with her rifle in hand ready for trouble. Her destination was a little over three klicks away. Ostensibly a small harvesting operation, it was in fact the headquarters of a man styling himself General Millard.
Kate stopped at irregular intervals to check her back trail. She knelt amidst the undergrowth and carefully scanned the jungle all around her position. She ignored the fetid smell that arose, and the damp that seeped through her leggings where her knee crushed rotting vegetation. All was quiet. Her back trail was invisible even to her, which was good. Her sensors informed her of multiple targets all round her with flashing red icons detailing range and vectors, but she ignored most of them as the animals she was sure they were. She could be wrong of course, but that just made the whole thing more interesting. Although her sensor package was a small handheld unit, it was state of the art tech. Small and light weight, it had the power and sensitivity of rigs three times its size.
She moved out again keeping an eye on a large target that her sensors said lay ahead of her. She didn’t like the look of it. It was too big to be a man, but who knew what nasty critters were hiding out here? She detoured wide and kept a wary eye on her sensors, but the thing was uninterested in moving. She breathed easier once she had left it behind.
A trickle of sweat ran down her spine. Her sneaksuit was stuck to her in uncomfortable places. She ignored the discomfort and kept to the same methodical crouching walk. She always wore the same thing on a job like this. A black one-piece coverall with non-metallic zippers, combat boots laced halfway up her shins, and cutaway gloves to provide some protection for her hands without fouling her fingers for intricate tasks. The sneaksuit’s hood covered her face, its nanocoat protected her against airborne agents—nerve gasses and the like. The legs of the sneaksuit were bound tightly over her boots with tape to prevent insects and other critters getting in and having their way with her. There were a lot of venomous nasties living on Alliance worlds—none of which had any business munching on humans, but they didn’t care about that and would happily have a go if you let them. Making the acquaintance of one of them while moving through the jungle wasn’t her idea of a good time.
Kate crouched and took another reading. According to her electronics, she was within a klick of the target. She memorised the layout her sensors reported to her, and shut her stuff down for the final time. She had no reason to believe Millard could detect her approach, her sneaksuit’s infrared masking capabilities should preclude that, but why risk it?
Kate crept slowly closer to her objective. She ducked under low hanging foliage, and climbed gingerly over fallen and rotten tree trunks, always careful to prevent noise. At what she guessed to be fifty metres from the target, she went to ground and crawled into a dense patch of undergrowth to watch the goings on in the brightly lit compound. There were three buildings laid out in a rough horseshoe with the central space used for a vehicle park. She recognised the harvesters for what they were, but it was to the half dozen tracked APCs that her eyes were drawn. They weren’t bodged together junk that some amateur mechanic had built from spare parts. They were straight out of an Alliance weapons factory. Those heavily armed vehicles had no place in the hands of civs. They were more suited to a Marine armoured detachment and looked brand new.
“What the hell is this?” she hissed under her breath.
Her brief hadn’t mentioned anything on the scale of APCs. What else was she likely to find? She lay still and tried to sense the trap. With her electronics shut down it was all she could do, but she had a knack for this kind of thing bred from constant use and a
Kate stopped at irregular intervals to check her back trail. She knelt amidst the undergrowth and carefully scanned the jungle all around her position. She ignored the fetid smell that arose, and the damp that seeped through her leggings where her knee crushed rotting vegetation. All was quiet. Her back trail was invisible even to her, which was good. Her sensors informed her of multiple targets all round her with flashing red icons detailing range and vectors, but she ignored most of them as the animals she was sure they were. She could be wrong of course, but that just made the whole thing more interesting. Although her sensor package was a small handheld unit, it was state of the art tech. Small and light weight, it had the power and sensitivity of rigs three times its size.
She moved out again keeping an eye on a large target that her sensors said lay ahead of her. She didn’t like the look of it. It was too big to be a man, but who knew what nasty critters were hiding out here? She detoured wide and kept a wary eye on her sensors, but the thing was uninterested in moving. She breathed easier once she had left it behind.
A trickle of sweat ran down her spine. Her sneaksuit was stuck to her in uncomfortable places. She ignored the discomfort and kept to the same methodical crouching walk. She always wore the same thing on a job like this. A black one-piece coverall with non-metallic zippers, combat boots laced halfway up her shins, and cutaway gloves to provide some protection for her hands without fouling her fingers for intricate tasks. The sneaksuit’s hood covered her face, its nanocoat protected her against airborne agents—nerve gasses and the like. The legs of the sneaksuit were bound tightly over her boots with tape to prevent insects and other critters getting in and having their way with her. There were a lot of venomous nasties living on Alliance worlds—none of which had any business munching on humans, but they didn’t care about that and would happily have a go if you let them. Making the acquaintance of one of them while moving through the jungle wasn’t her idea of a good time.
Kate crouched and took another reading. According to her electronics, she was within a klick of the target. She memorised the layout her sensors reported to her, and shut her stuff down for the final time. She had no reason to believe Millard could detect her approach, her sneaksuit’s infrared masking capabilities should preclude that, but why risk it?
Kate crept slowly closer to her objective. She ducked under low hanging foliage, and climbed gingerly over fallen and rotten tree trunks, always careful to prevent noise. At what she guessed to be fifty metres from the target, she went to ground and crawled into a dense patch of undergrowth to watch the goings on in the brightly lit compound. There were three buildings laid out in a rough horseshoe with the central space used for a vehicle park. She recognised the harvesters for what they were, but it was to the half dozen tracked APCs that her eyes were drawn. They weren’t bodged together junk that some amateur mechanic had built from spare parts. They were straight out of an Alliance weapons factory. Those heavily armed vehicles had no place in the hands of civs. They were more suited to a Marine armoured detachment and looked brand new.
“What the hell is this?” she hissed under her breath.
Her brief hadn’t mentioned anything on the scale of APCs. What else was she likely to find? She lay still and tried to sense the trap. With her electronics shut down it was all she could do, but she had a knack for this kind of thing bred from constant use and a
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