Vorpal Blade by Ringo John & Taylor Travis S

Author:Ringo, John & Taylor, Travis S. [Ringo, John & Taylor, Travis S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Science Fiction, General, Action & Adventure, Space Opera
ISBN: 9781416521297
Publisher: Baen
Published: 2007-01-01T07:00:00+00:00

Looking Glass 2 - The Vorpal Blade

- Chapter 16

Under Pressure

“INTRUDER ALERT! INTRUDER ALERT! SECURITY TO REPEL BOARDERS!”

It had been ten days since they landed on what everyone now knew as Dean's World. Ten days of, as Sergeant Jaen called it, “dickbeating.” Weight training, maintenance, Wyvern sims, climbing fast-​ropes, drills, computer sims . . . The latter had been proven to increase combat efficiency but everybody had a hard time not calling it “gaming.” Basically, you lay in your bunk and played Dreen War over and over again. He wished they'd at least let the Marines play Halo III, which was more interesting by light-​years.

Ten uneventful days and then in the middle of the platoon's “night” . . . Berg's eyes flew open as the light automatically came on, but he waited a heartbeat for the next order. “SECOND PLATOON, WYVERNS. FIRST AND THIRD, GROUND MOUNT.”

Both voices were prerecorded female voices, but the second order was important. It detailed who had to clear the compartment first. Since everyone couldn't move in the corridor at the same time, the personnel with Wyvern duty had to move first. Since they only had to slip into skinsuits, they could be dressed fastest, anyway.

“Get your elbow out of my face!”

“Get your dick out of my ass!”

“FREEZE!” the first sergeant bellowed from the forward hatch.

Berg froze in place, arms over his head, most of the top of the skinsuit over his face.

“Two-​Gun, you may lower your arms,” Top said into the silence. “Carefully.”

“The term here is FUBAR,” the first sergeant said, quietly. “Y'all can't struggle out of this compartment in two minutes, which is the time it's supposed to take you to settle on your equipment. So we are going to do this again. And again. And again. Until you can, in fact, exit this compartment in an orderly fashion. At that point, and at that point only, will we then move on to donning said equipment and drawing ammo in an orderly fashion. And don't think you can cut time by keeping your uniforms on. We're going to randomly pick which platoon has which duty. Back in your racks.”

Hedger from Third Platoon shouted “Third, Clear!” then grabbed the stanchion on the gear locker and drove it, hard, towards the starboard bulkhead. Staff Sergeant Summerlin was on the far side of the locker and, if anything, was driving harder.

Falling in on the armor was a drill that had to be done as precisely as a parade. As tight as the ship was, getting everyone onto their armor, fast, was nearly impossible. But it could be done if everyone did their jobs precisely on the beat.

With the containers spaced, the Marines darted in lockstep to their positions and almost simultaneously opened their compartments. As the seats fell they turned and, nearly in unison, sat down, reaching up and pulling their armor over their heads. The combat harnesses were attached to the armor so they came down at the same time. Two moves and the armor was latched. Reaching up, they pulled down their helmets, then snatched out their weapons and stood up.

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