Read Online Their Master's War by Mick Farren - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mick Farren
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dull black pod, slightly larger than a clenched fist. It clipped into the underside
of his weapon. Each had the specifications of the MEW and its energy source in his new memory, and only the dullest failed to experience a slight thrill of excited fear at the realization of the extent of the power he was holding in his hand.
"Take the energy pack in your left hand. Hold your weapon by its midsection with the underside pointing away from you."
He paused until all of the recruits had it right.
"Place the pack between the guide blocks but do not, I repeat, do not push it home." Again he paused.
"On the command 'Load' you will load your weapons. At all times, you will keep your hands away from the triggers."
The overmen walked down the rows of recruits to make sure that they followed Rance's instructions to the letter. It was only when they were completely satisfied that the order was given.
"Intake... load!"
The energy packs were slammed home. There was no noise in the silence of space.
"Open formation, advance! Keep those hands away from the triggers!" They spread out into one long, extended rank, each man some two meters from the next one.
"Weapons ready!"
Weapons were pushed forward by nervous hands.
"In this first phase of the exercise, lighted targets will appear in front of you. They will move toward you. The object is to shoot them down before they reach you. You will use all of the functions of your weapons, and I will call the changes of function."
Now that the weapons were energized, Rance was brutal efficiency. All the "my children" mockery had gone from his voice.
"Targets up!"
A blip of yellow light appeared from nowhere and floated a couple of meters above the surface of the hull. At first there was just the one, then it subdivided into a whole line of blips, maybe twenty in all. They advanced on the troopers at about the speed of a man walking.
"Set to blast and fire at will!"
There was a moment of hesitation, as if none of the recruits wanted to be the first to fire.
"The idea is to shoot them down. They're the enemy, and they want to kill you." The recruits' weapons went off almost as one. A number of the blips vanished, but by no means was every shot a hit. Rance raised his hand.
"Targets down."
The yellow blips vanished.
"That was uniformly pathetic. In combat, you'll rarely have an enemy moving as slowly as that. Targets up!"
For the next four hours, they practiced with their weapons. The speed of the blips increased, and their movement became trickier; they ducked and weaved, and toward the end, they fired bolts of green light that delivered a severe but not incapacitating shock to whomever they hit. Rance had the men constantly switching functions on their weapons. They jumped from laser-trace to blast, from blast to heat ray to concussion, and back to lasertrace. Very early in the exercise, Hark realized that the multiple triggers on the MEW were almost identical to the prayer levers with which he'd worshiped back on his planet. This left him with a growing feeling that his former life had been a cruel deceit. Rance not only worked the men hard on their weapons, he also pushed them toward the limit of their physical capabilities. He had them running and diving, crawling on their stomachs, all the time firing as they
went, beating off the repeated attacks of the blips. He constantly reminded them that it was a matter of kill or be killed. He apparently had an uncompromisingly basic view of warfare. The disaster didn't occur until the exercise was almost over. Only one recruit from Hark's squad, Eslay, seemed unable either to cop the feel of the MEW or to keep up with the rest of the intake. When the blips started firing shocks, he was constantly being zapped. Finally he gave up and dropped to his knees with a sighing sob that was audible over everyone's communicator. Two blips hovered over him, hitting his body with repeated shocks. He was now babbling in a language that Hark didn't
of his weapon. Each had the specifications of the MEW and its energy source in his new memory, and only the dullest failed to experience a slight thrill of excited fear at the realization of the extent of the power he was holding in his hand.
"Take the energy pack in your left hand. Hold your weapon by its midsection with the underside pointing away from you."
He paused until all of the recruits had it right.
"Place the pack between the guide blocks but do not, I repeat, do not push it home." Again he paused.
"On the command 'Load' you will load your weapons. At all times, you will keep your hands away from the triggers."
The overmen walked down the rows of recruits to make sure that they followed Rance's instructions to the letter. It was only when they were completely satisfied that the order was given.
"Intake... load!"
The energy packs were slammed home. There was no noise in the silence of space.
"Open formation, advance! Keep those hands away from the triggers!" They spread out into one long, extended rank, each man some two meters from the next one.
"Weapons ready!"
Weapons were pushed forward by nervous hands.
"In this first phase of the exercise, lighted targets will appear in front of you. They will move toward you. The object is to shoot them down before they reach you. You will use all of the functions of your weapons, and I will call the changes of function."
Now that the weapons were energized, Rance was brutal efficiency. All the "my children" mockery had gone from his voice.
"Targets up!"
A blip of yellow light appeared from nowhere and floated a couple of meters above the surface of the hull. At first there was just the one, then it subdivided into a whole line of blips, maybe twenty in all. They advanced on the troopers at about the speed of a man walking.
"Set to blast and fire at will!"
There was a moment of hesitation, as if none of the recruits wanted to be the first to fire.
"The idea is to shoot them down. They're the enemy, and they want to kill you." The recruits' weapons went off almost as one. A number of the blips vanished, but by no means was every shot a hit. Rance raised his hand.
"Targets down."
The yellow blips vanished.
"That was uniformly pathetic. In combat, you'll rarely have an enemy moving as slowly as that. Targets up!"
For the next four hours, they practiced with their weapons. The speed of the blips increased, and their movement became trickier; they ducked and weaved, and toward the end, they fired bolts of green light that delivered a severe but not incapacitating shock to whomever they hit. Rance had the men constantly switching functions on their weapons. They jumped from laser-trace to blast, from blast to heat ray to concussion, and back to lasertrace. Very early in the exercise, Hark realized that the multiple triggers on the MEW were almost identical to the prayer levers with which he'd worshiped back on his planet. This left him with a growing feeling that his former life had been a cruel deceit. Rance not only worked the men hard on their weapons, he also pushed them toward the limit of their physical capabilities. He had them running and diving, crawling on their stomachs, all the time firing as they
went, beating off the repeated attacks of the blips. He constantly reminded them that it was a matter of kill or be killed. He apparently had an uncompromisingly basic view of warfare. The disaster didn't occur until the exercise was almost over. Only one recruit from Hark's squad, Eslay, seemed unable either to cop the feel of the MEW or to keep up with the rest of the intake. When the blips started firing shocks, he was constantly being zapped. Finally he gave up and dropped to his knees with a sighing sob that was audible over everyone's communicator. Two blips hovered over him, hitting his body with repeated shocks. He was now babbling in a language that Hark didn't
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