The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Guardian

“So we’d go in that way,” the sergeant answered. “Old trick. Leave an easy access to where someone wants to go and hope they’ll use it without wondering why it was left open. You’d be surprised how often people fall for it.”

“What do we do, Sarge?”

“Major?”

Major Dietz answered the sergeant. “We need to get in there as quickly as possible, Sergeant Cortez. If the Syndics have nukes with them, one of those nukes is probably in there. They need to get overwhelmed fast.”

“Got it, sir. Squad, we’ll use bounce grenades to flush them out and neutralize their stealth. Fire teams one and two, ready grenades. Set them on dust.”

“Dust, Sarge? Not shrapnel?”

“You heard me. You guys need another look?”

“Yeah, Sarge.”

The sergeant poked out his finger again, letting the image linger on the helmet displays of his squad.

What’s a bounce grenade? Geary looked to one side of the Marine display and spotted a list of weaponry. He highlighted the bounce-grenade icon and got a description and an image. A grenade inside some sort of extremely bouncy coating, thick enough to let the explosive act like a superball toy.

“Got it?” the Sergeant said as he pulled back his finger camera.

“Yeah, Sarge. Looks easy. I done harder bounces in my sleep.”

“Don’t screw it up. When I give the word, fire in sequence in the following order. Denny, Lesperance, Gurganus, Taitano, Caya, Kilcullen. Got it?”

Six Marines answered up.

“The rest of you apes get ready to go. Stand by,” Sergeant Cortez said. “Ready. Fire, fire, fire, fire, fire, fire.”

Each designated Marine fired a grenade as the command reached their place in the firing sequence. Geary watched as the grenades bounced off the opposite bulkhead at a high angle, bounced again against the bulkhead opposite that as they went down the other passageway, then rebounded yet again through the open hatch to the decoy main engineering control compartment. He realized now why the shots had been slightly spaced, to prevent two or more grenades from glancing off each other and spoiling their bounces. As it was, there were six perfect double–bank shots, each grenade detonating after it entered the compartment.

“Go!” Sergeant Cortez yelled to his squad.

Geary watched the Marines hurling themselves around the corner and toward the open hatch, from which clouds of dust were now billowing.

Vague outlines appeared in the dust gushing from the compartment, the wavering shapes of humans in combat armor, the dust revealing the figures despite the stealth features in the armor. Realizing they were partially visible, the sentries opened fire, hitting one Marine, before a dozen answering shots tore into them.

The Marines kicked off hard on every possible projection, changing direction and bursting into the compartment, which was unrecognizable to Geary despite his previous visit because of the dust filling it. He realized why the grenades had been set to turn their coating into fine powder: that nullified the advantages of the Syndic stealth gear. Figures appeared in the swirling clouds as shots tore through it. The image from the Sergeant’s armor jerked wildly as the Marine took a hit, ending up tilted and drifting along one side of the compartment.

Geary hastily switched Marines, picking up the corporal who was now the squad leader. Two more shots resounded in the compartment, then it was silent as the Marines combed it for any remaining foes.

“Sarge is down! Looks bad.”

“See what you can do,” Corporal Maksomovic ordered. “What about Tsing?”

“Dead.”

“Damn. Any Syndics left alive?”

“If they are, not for much longer—”

“Dammit, Caya, if you and the others find a Syndic still breathing, you keep them breathing! We got orders to get prisoners for interrogation, and you will damn well obey those orders!”

“All right, all right, Mack. Hey, this one’s still— Never mind.”

Geary could see Corporal Maksomovic floating beside a figure in Syndic armor on which all stealth features had failed. “Can we do a revive and recover?”

“Not with a hole that big in her. I don’t know how she lasted as long as she did.”

“Hey, Mack, I found that nuke we was looking for!”

“Don’t touch it, Uulina!” The image moved hastily, focusing on a squat cylinder anchored in one corner of the compartment. On the corporal’s helmet display, his combat system automatically identified the enemy weapon and popped up critical information. “Major, we got a confirmed nuke munition. Fusion pack.”

Major Dietz sounded both relieved and worried. “Is it armed?”

“Uh. Arming switch.” Corporal Maksomovic’s helmet display highlighted part of the weapon he was gazing at, providing a schematic with on and off positions for the arming switch helpfully shown. “No, sir. Arming switch has not been thrown.”

“What about the timer?”

“No, sir. Timer is not running.”

“Good job. Guard that thing yourself while we get a weapons engineer on the line to tell you how to deactivate it. And watch out for any Syndics trying to regain possession.”

“Yes, sir. Major, we got a casualty—”