With Your Shield Read online

  “Yes, sir!”

  He grimaced. “Okay, Smartass. What exactly are you plotting over here?”

  She shrugged, waved him over, and turned back to her work table. “We’re taking apart the MAC to see about your idea of using it to launch drones. Frankly, I think it’s a no-go. The electronics in the drones are, for obvious reasons, quite sensitive. The speed the MAC launches them at would likely screw them up. We can try, but I think all that will happen will be some shredded drones. Over there, we’re doing the same with a rocket launcher, but, again, I just don’t think it’s going to work.”

  He sighed and nodded as he rubbed his chin. “Any ideas, then?”

  “Not yet, but we’ll put our heads together and come up with something.”

  “Okay, thanks. Keep at it.”

  She turned back to her work, and Markus looked around the room with a slight frown. He had to come up with something, anything, that could improve their chances in the field. Without another word, he headed out and closed the door behind him.

  He sat down to pull off the magnetic boots, leaned back against the bulkhead and closed his eyes. The slight hum of the ship vibrating around him was familiar and comforting. Most probably didn’t even notice it, he thought, but it was there. The ship was as much home to him as being in a CASPer or being in his quarters back on Earth, and the people around him were his family. It wasn’t something that was talked about much, especially in CASPer country, but this company really was a family. You understood it even more if you read about the origins of the Golden Horde, which he had.

  His thoughts wandered to Carrie, and he wondered what would happen between them. She’d been a merc long enough to know how it all worked, and it certainly wasn’t something he had planned. It was one of those things he couldn’t control, and he would just have to wait and see. The important thing he had to do was make sure whatever was growing between them did not distract either of them from their work. His eyes popped open as he realized that’s exactly what was happening. He should be focused on programming software interfaces for new sensor inputs.

  As he pushed up to make his way back to his quarters, he nodded to himself. Six more days in hyperspace and lots to do. Thankfully, most of the software work for the contract had been completed before departure, as his team had promised. He still needed to do a final review and run some simulations to debug it all, but he felt sure it would be fine.

  * * *

  When he arrived back at his quarters, he immediately got to work on the weapons automation software. He had requested and received a powerful computer station that could run the simulations he’d need. It was located in the Communications Room of the ship, but he could easily tap into it from his quarters.

  Before he ran the simulations, he decided to go through the code. He wanted to double-check and make sure any code that was completely custom for the Golden Horde was gone. With a quick thought, he set up a virtual ‘do not disturb’ on his comms to inform anyone trying to reach him that, unless it was an emergency, it would have to wait. Of course, it could easily be overridden by anyone senior to him, but it might stop some of the things that really could wait.

  He spent several hours going through the code, and, in the end, he was satisfied. It looked like it would work significantly better than anything sold on the open market with similar defense systems, without giving away any of the Horde’s secrets. The biggest difference was removing any need for—or even any mention—of pinplant interfacing. Anyone with eyes could see the members of the Golden Horde had four of them, but the advantages they gave were very much protected secrets. The next thing he’d have to do was run it through a simulation to be sure the code could handle things like it was supposed to.

  The software would link in with the command and control systems they’d be installing, but it was completely separate; that way, a failure in one system wouldn’t stop the other from working. Markus didn’t like single points of failure. Even with this particular system, if one thing failed, there was something else that would pick up the load. It might lose some efficiency, but it would still work. If all else failed, every defensive platform they set up could be disconnected from the network with the press of a button and be manually crew-served or—in many cases—handled by a single person. Lasers, MACs, and rockets could be manually aimed, and heat-seeking missiles pointed in the direction of something hot. Even a Zuparti couldn’t screw that up…he hoped. He hooked in with his pinplants, wanting a direct connection for this type of simulation, and got to work testing the software under every circumstance he could think of.

  After spending the rest of the day on simulations, he was satisfied the software for the wall-mounted defense systems was ready…next was the command and control software, but that would have to wait until tomorrow. He realized that, once again, he hadn’t eaten anything all day and decided to go get something.

  * * *

  As he made his way through the ship, he deactivated the block on his comms and saw a few people had tried to reach him. Several were the work team for the CASPer project, and he assumed it must not have been that important since they didn’t have it overridden. One was curious though; it was from Lieutenant Quinn, his former platoon leader. He decided to reach out to him after he’d gotten some chow, and he continued on his way.

  He entered the nearly empty galley and grumbled to himself. He hadn’t checked the time, and it was well after normal dinner hours. He shrugged to himself and headed over to the autochef and punched in a steak and potato. It wouldn’t be great, but it would fill the growing hole in his belly. While he waited, he heard a familiar voice call out, “Hey, Spartan!”

  He turned to see Lieutenant Quinn leaning against the far wall of the galley and waved. Once it was ready, he grabbed his food and headed over, sitting down across from Hazard. “I saw you tried to reach me; sorry, I was deep in some code for the contract.”

  Quinn grinned. “It’s okay, Spartan. Major King briefed me on your little project, since it will have to be deployed on contract to really test it out. We’re factoring that into the orders and schedule once we’re planet-side.”

  “Hell, I haven’t even had time to get to that yet…still finishing up the software we’re handing over to the Zuparti when we get planet-side.”

  Quinn nodded. “Congrats on the promotion, too, by the way.”

  Markus smiled and shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m still not quite sure how I earned it.” Markus felt comfortable talking to Hazard about pretty much anything, given everything they’d gone through in the past.

  Hazard shrugged. “Ours is not to question why, trooper. You got it, so someone thought you deserved it. Now you just have to make sure you earn it, if you have any doubts.”

  Markus nodded, staring at his meal for a moment before cutting a bite of the ‘steak.’ “Not a trooper anymore.”

  “Bullshit. Once a trooper, always a trooper. I saw your latest range scores, Spartan. I’d take you by my side any day.”

  Markus grinned around a mouthful of food and nodded.

  “Speaking of which…you realize you’re going to be the one taking your new toy out for trials, right?”

  Markus swallowed and nodded again. “Yeah, I kinda figured that. I wouldn’t want anyone else to risk themselves in it, anyway.”

  “I knew you’d think that way. When do you think it’ll be ready for field trials?”

  Markus barked a laugh. “You should see it now. I’ve never seen a CASPer stripped down to the core structure before. I honestly don’t know. We still have a lot to figure out.”

  Hazard took a sip of his coffee while Markus continued to eat. “So, we have this jump to finish, time in some backwater system, and then another jump to our contract. Figure you’ve got at least two weeks. Be ready when we drop?”

  Markus considered for a moment. “Hopefully. Everything might not be ready, but we should be able to button it up and put it in the field with what we have. I doubt it’ll be ready for a
HALD deployment, though.” HALD—high-altitude, low-deployment—drops were something no trooper liked but had to do at some point.

  Hazard waved a hand dismissively. “I seriously doubt that’ll be necessary for this deployment. We’ll ride down nice and comfy in the dropships. I’m going to put you with Brandon Johnston’s squad for your field tests. Have you met him?”

  Markus shook his head as he continued to eat, each mouthful reminding him of how hungry he had gotten.

  “He’s fairly new to the Horde, but he’s got experience. Came over with a good recommendation from some small-time company on Earth that folded after a bad contract. We tested him out and immediately gave him his own squad. The men like him, and he’s solid. When you get some time, I’d like to get you two together so you can fill him in on what you’ll be doing.”

  Markus nodded and put his empty package into the recycler. “I can do that. How about tomorrow around lunch? I’ll be working on the software for Zuparti C&C, and it’ll force me to take a break.”

  Hazard chuckled. “Okay, I’ll let him know.”

  Markus sighed, looking over at the autochef as he considered a second helping.

  Hazard chuckled. “Don’t stuff yourself, Spartan. You should probably get some sleep. I assume you still overwork yourself and forget about food, sleep, and other little things like that?”

  Markus grinned. “Guilty as charged. Guess I’d better get some rack time.”

  Hazard stood and extended his hand. “Good luck, Spartan.”

  Markus stood and shook it. “Thanks. I think I’m going to need it.” He looked at the autochef longingly one more time, then went back to his quarters to get some much-needed sleep.

  * * *

  The next day Markus started immediately on the C&C software for the contract and spent the morning going through the code. He was about to start running simulations, but then noted he was supposed to meet with Lieutenant Quinn and the new squad leader he’d be working with.

  He commed Hazard, who answered immediately. “What’s up, Spartan?”

  “Just taking a break…is Johnson available to meet up?”

  “Yep, I’ve been waiting to hear from you. Meet you in the squad bay?”

  “Sounds good. I’ll be right there.”

  Markus walked down to Hazard’s squad bay. Seated there was Hazard, of course, and someone who was just as tall and muscular as Markus himself. The second man, who must be Johnson, stood and snapped a salute.

  Markus returned it, then said, “Take a seat.”

  The trooper nodded and sat. Markus appraised him quickly. He definitely had the look of someone who had spent plenty of time in a CASPer. It wasn’t something that could be explained, but it was something a trooper could see in another trooper.

  Hazard nodded from his seat. “Spartan, meet Staff Sergeant Brandon Johnston. His callsign is ‘Irish.’”

  “Nice to meet you, Irish,” Markus said.

  “You too, sir.”

  Markus waved a hand. “Spartan is fine, please.”

  Johnston nodded.

  “So, Spartan, I brought Irish here up to speed on the basics of your little project and what you’re looking to do.”

  Markus looked at Irish. “What do you think?”

  The trooper tilted his head and considered his answer before he spoke. “I think it could either save a lot of lives or get you killed.”

  Markus looked at Hazard, who had a grin on his face, then back to Irish. “Well, I suppose that’s true. Then again, that’s pretty much the case every time we climb into a CASPer, isn’t it?”

  “That’s fair, sir. Either way, I’ll be happy to have your back while you test it out.”

  “Good. Very good. I’ll clear you to drop by our section of the hangar if you want to take a look.”

  “Thank you, sir. I might take you up on that. There’s still plenty of work to do in the sims to get the squad working together the way I’d like, though.”

  Markus glanced at Hazard, then nodded at Irish in approval. “Good man. Just let me or Hobo know if you want to drop by. I’ll probably schedule some time during the next jump to join you and your squad to get used to everyone in it, if that’s okay.”

  “Sounds good, sir. Ah, so you’re why Hobo isn’t around to work on my mech?”

  Markus laughed. “You didn’t tell him?”

  Hazard shook his head. “Nope. I wanted you to be the one to tell him why he didn’t have his maintenance chief. I just told him Hobo was busy.”

  Markus smirked and muttered, “Asshole.”

  Hazard nodded. “As if you didn’t already know that.”

  Irish seemed to be doing his best not to laugh.

  Markus rolled his eyes and grinned. “Okay, I’m sure you two have things to do, and I know I do.” He stood to leave.

  “One more thing, Spartan,” Hazard said, stopping him.

  Markus turned his head back. “Yes?”

  “Don’t forget to eat…”

  Markus shook his head as he left. “Asshole.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twelve

  Horde Transport Ship EMS War Pony, Hyperspace

  Markus went through the code and spent several hours testing the command and control software in simulated environments. At the end of it all, he was satisfied his team back on Earth had done a perfect job getting everything ready for their clients. He spent the rest of the day continuing to run simulations on both systems, tying them together and testing their failsafe systems—basically doing everything he could think of to try and break them.

  After a night of sleep, it was time to get to work on the CASPer systems. He pulled out his slate and opened the primary source code that made the CASPer work. It was, without a doubt, some of the most complicated code he’d ever looked at. Much of it was custom to the Golden Horde, and those were some of the parts he was about to dive into. He’d received the information on the additional sensors that were being mounted by Specialist Kawa, and he’d have to adjust the code to account for the new angles and factor it all in to create a virtual 3D overlay that made sense.

  Somehow, Specialist Kawa had been able to engineer the space for more sensors without sacrificing anything. It would make the mech a bit heavier and draw more power, which would cut the operating duration of the CASPer, but Markus was willing to accept that as well, especially if it meant not having to lose armor. It would be a few more days until they were ready to do a full, powered-up test, and he wanted to have the code ready by then.

  That done, he settled himself into what could only be called a trance. He saw the slate and the lines of code flowing across it, but he really didn’t see it. In his mind, the full power of his pinplants kicked in, and he started re-writing the sensor suite software for the CASPer.

  As it always had been, programming was done with lines of code. Contrary to what the old science-fiction movies showed, there was no nice-looking 3D display of boxes to connect, or any of that junk, which was laughable to a real coder. As fast as he could think, code was changed, each modification with a quick comment indicating why he changed it, in case someone else ever had to look at it—which was likely. He was good, but even he made mistakes, and he’d be shocked if it worked the first time it booted up.

  The number of factors to consider was quite large; he had to look at the number of sensors, where they were placed, exactly what quadrant they would cover, how much power they used, and the sensitivity required of each sensor. All of that had to be taken into consideration to present the troopers in the CASPer with a perfect rendering of the environment around them so they could identify which things were of interest. He added in markers for allies; it was decidedly bad to accidentally shoot your squad mate, after all. Because of the purpose of this CASPer, he also wrote in transmissions systems so the finished displays could be pushed to any given network from the squad level up to the one they ran at base.

  After spending most of the day on it, he felt that he had gotten as fa
r as he could without actually loading it into the CASPer and booting it up. After running several debugging sweeps and compiling the code, and he had it ready to load. He stored the software in his slate and put it in a sleeve mounted to the bulkhead of his quarters.

  * * *

  Zuparti Base Camp, Planet Kelfor-6

  Terax observed with some amount of pride as the base took shape. There had been no more tremors, which made him perfectly happy. Pre-formed concrete slabs were being moved into position to form the base of the new buildings which would be erected. The first would be a more permanent structure for housing, then the main control center for transport shipping. Several containers of necessary materials waited, and shuttles landed every few hours delivering more. It was only a couple of weeks until the Golden Horde would arrive to start constructing their defenses, and he was anxious.

  They had discovered that one of the native bug species on the planet had an appetite for metal and had started eating holes in the temporary buildings they had set up. They found this out the hard way when it rained, and their roofs had developed enough small holes that no one was able to stay dry. Suret had a bit of experience with entomology and was looking into the problem. It was an odd hobby, but Terax hoped it would pay off.

  Suret had captured some of the bugs and learned that they had some sort of ferrophagic bacteria in their stomachs. Similar to the microbes in the gut of a termite that allowed it to break down cellulose into simpler molecules, the ferrophagic bacteria broke down the metal. Suret was experimenting with the bugs to either develop a way to repel them or protect the metal.

  Other than that, they’d had relatively few problems. While still quite paranoid about the local animals, they had yet to encounter a large predator, though logic told him there had to be one. There was always an apex predator, otherwise they would be overrun with smaller animals. Just the thought caused Terax to glance over his shoulders to make sure nothing was coming up behind him. Then a concrete slab was dropped accidentally, causing a loud boom, which sent every member of his team diving to the ground and covering their heads as they screeched loudly.