Q-Ship Chameleon (Castle Federation Book 4) by Glynn Stewart

Author:Glynn Stewart [Stewart, Glynn]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Publisher: Faolan's Pen Publishing Inc.
Published: 2016-10-27T04:00:00+00:00

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Chapter 25

Aurelius System

13:50 June 5, 2736 Earth Standard Meridian Date/Time

Chameleon

Edvard spared four of his precious seconds to curse out competent Terran officers.

His entire company was in locked into battle armor and loaded aboard their assault shuttles. He was ready to punch a hundred and eighty of the Castle Federation’s finest into the logistics depot—which meant he had no one in position to counter a boarding they had no choice but to allow.

“They’ll arrive in just over eight minutes,” Roberts told him. “We’re in lance range in ten and launching your boarding shuttles in eleven. I need two minutes, Hansen.”

“I’ll get them for you,” Edvard replied grimly. “Bravo Platoon, disembark ASAP and move to the fake civvie boarding zone. Hustle, we’re on the clock. Alpha, Charlie—stand by for the assault.”

For several seconds, he hesitated, unsure which of the two operations his company was about to launch needed him… If the Terran Marines warned their bases what was coming, the assault would never happen. Everyone would be dead before his shuttles could launch, the battleship-grade lances on the remote controlled platforms would see to that.

“Riley, you’re in charge of the assault,” he ordered the black-ops Lieutenant as he used his implant to order the shuttle to release the heavy metal bars holding his battle armor in place. “Keep me informed, but the strike is yours.”

“Understood,” she replied. “Good luck.”

“I don’t need luck,” he said. “I have Castle’s damned Marines.”

She gave him a soft wolf-howl, a quiet version of the CFMC’s terrifying battle cry, and dropped the channel.

“Ramirez.” Edvard raised his Gunny as he stepped off the shuttle, the ramp closing shut behind him on the people who now be launching an assault without him. “We have jammers in inventory, right?”

“Of course,” the smaller man agreed, falling in beside him as they joined in the briskly moving column of armored Marines. “But we can’t jam a Q-Com.”

“Don’t need to,” the Lieutenant Major told his NCO. “We need two minutes, Gunny, and the Q-Com is on the shuttle, not in the troopers’ armor.”

Assuming they were feeling paranoid enough to show up in battle armor. It probably wouldn’t change how this ended, but battle armor certainly had options that Marines in lighter armor didn’t.

“Meet me at the docking bay with the biggest, nastiest jammers we have in inventory,” he ordered. “And like I said, Gunny, we’re on the clock.”

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