Trigger time!!!

Finally got to the range yesterday! Sadly it’s been way too long…

150 rounds through four guns, three Glocks (G17 is Gen 1, G19 is Gen 3, G26 is Gen 2) and an old BHP. Worked multiple drills, movement at different ranges, and we also ran some El Pres drills, except one of the targets (this one) was almost 10 yards from the other two…

Head shots from 15 yards with a G26 didn’t go real well, two misses left, one miss right. The above the shoulder were both with the G19, rushing head shots/double taps (again)…

The low shots were speed rocks that I didn’t get the barrel up enough on.

Bottom line, I NEED MORE !@$%&*@ PRACTICE…

But I knew that. My pistol skills aren’t that great to start with, and without practice they go straight south in a hurry…

After we’d all frustrated ourselves, we moved back to the 100 yard line to check zero on a truck gun and I dug out the SP-1 and wanted to get the 10-22 sighted in since we moved it to the Archangel Stock.

Sadly, the truck gun and 10-22 both still need sighting in, the wind was blowing/gusting hard enough that the same holds generated multiple shot placements… Ironically the old SP-1, iron sights and all, grouped the best. Sighted in for 55gr, there was a marked difference in the impact groups between 55gr and 62gr (62 was about 6 inches lower).

Still, a bad day on the range is better than most other things, as evidenced by the comment I heard, “Dirty guns and sore fingers make for a good day!”

 

There’s a new sheriff in town…

And I’ve got the feeling that ISIS hiding out in Nangarhar, Afghanistan found that out yesterday…

And the meltdown has started… In the MSM, that is. HERE.

US Air Force photo. Test unit at Eglin AFB, FL

With the equivalent of 11 tons of TNT from  9.35 tons of compound H6, and a low altitude (less than 50 feet) air burst, it’s designed for soft targets, intimidation, and overpressure of things like tunnels.

The GBU-43/B Massive Ordnance Air Blast (MOAB), commonly known as the Mother of All Bombs, was developed as a follow on to the GBU-82B weapon system, the official program was “Commando Vault”, but it was known as the “Daisy Cutter” in Vietnam and later in Afghanistan as an intimidation weapon. The white ‘probe’ off the nose of the weapon was the impact sensor that activated the bomb at a height of roughly 6 feet.

US Air Force photo, USAF Museum

Two hundred and twenty-five were constructed starting in 1970. I saw one dropped on Koh Tang island during the Mayaguez incident, by an MC-130 to clear a landing area on top of the island for the Marine forces. Sadly they didn’t use that spot, instead landed on the beach…

You can go HERE and see the B-roll from the MOAB test drop in 2003. Note how the C-130 ‘jumps’ when it gets rid of 21,000 pounds out the aft ramp! That has to be an interesting ride from the inside!!!

Contrary to what ‘most’ of the MSM is saying, actual reporting indicates the area where the MOAB was dropped is wild country, and where the Afghan Army has already been fighting ISIS, with few if any ‘civilians’ in the area.

Personally, I think this is a wake up call, not only for ISIS, coming on the heels of the TLAM strikes in Syria, but also a rather pointed warning to the DPRK’s Kim Jong Un that the US is no longer a paper tiger, but one with teeth that they are ready to use!

LL, over at Virtual Mirage, has a good precis of the North Korea situation, HERE. It’s worth reading as he does an excellent job of boiling it down into understandable terms.

TBT…

Keyboard is giving me fits, so you get pictures…

These were a series of billboards in/around Detroit a few years ago… Sigh… The good old days! When you could tell from 2 blocks away both visually and aurally what kind of car was coming up the street!

Re the last, they lied… True horsepower was 520 with stock manifolds, 560 with headers (which had a Chevy part number)… 😀

Posted in TBT

Disconnected…

After a week with basically no phone and no internet, I feel strangely refreshed…

It’s funny how quickly folks stopped thinking about/slapping for their phones and simply enjoyed (well, weather dependent, enjoyed) being outside in a beautiful environment. By Tuesday, I was really loathe to turn the phone back on when I got to the car, and I didn’t spend but maybe 20-30 minutes a night on the net, primarily checking personal emails.

One of the many comments I heard during the week was from a local volunteer, envious of those of us from out of town that hadn’t brought computers. Seems he was going back at night and ‘working’, even though he was on vacation, since folks knew he was in town.

It was interesting also to watch the ‘movers and shakers’ constantly reaching for phones as they walked around the course, and the lines for the phones were pretty constant every day… But I guess the most ‘twitchy’ people I saw were the younger millennials, probably for the first time NOT able to be in constant contact. Actually it was pretty funny! 🙂

In other news, Kaya is now walking… Now the race is on!!! Now PP has two to chase down…

And note Vito in the background calmly chewing a toy… Little does he know…

Back in battery…

More or less, apparently I forgot to actually cue this one for this morning…

My office for the last week…

#1 tee at Augusta, EARLY in the morning, as the gates have just opened.

And the ‘view’ across the tee box to the clubhouse (no, we weren’t allowed in there)…

The green jackets greeted each golfer everyday on the tee. This is Kevin Kisner.

During the practice round, it’s only about two bodies deep… On Sunday it was THIRTY bodies deep trying to watch…

And there were shoppers… I could smell the burning credit cards all the way across the tee! 🙂 

All in all, a great week, good folks and an honor to be able to give a little back to the golfing community.

Now if I can just get my body back on some kind of ‘normal’ cycle…

It’s been a ‘week’…

From this…

Thankfully, no one was killed in this tornado, and I didn’t see it! I was hiding under a bridge in pouring rain that limited visibility to less than 100 feet, when it passed about a mile from us.

To this…

Tranquillity and ‘relatively’ warm weather…

In between were one nice day, another rainy/lightning day, and two COLD and windy days. Trust me, mid-50s/low-60s with 30-40 kt winds ARE cold!!!

One more day of volunteering and I’m back to the home 20 and wrap up Rimworld- Into the Green and get it into print by the end of the month.

All in all, it’s been a good week, time spent with old friends in a beautiful setting, and weather aside, well worth it.

What I’m wondering is what I did to piss off my readers! I’m down to 30% this week from my normal number of reads/day.

Comments, please???

Rimworld- Into the Green…

An update and one last tease…

Currently working through final edits and cover design. Hopefully will be out the end of April (if everything comes together)…

And in answer to the emails/questions some people have asked, yes, McDougal will be back… 🙂

Stolen Time

Nan Randall had shown up unannounced, dropped off by a GalPat shuttle the previous afternoon. She’d used the excuse of wanting some quiet time, and a chance to talk to Fargo.

They’d spent the afternoon and evening rehashing the entire assault, picking it apart and discussing how it could have been done better. That had segued into catching up with each other’s careers, until Nan finally said, “I need some sleep. This has been a long week.”

Fargo showed her to the spare bedroom, reminding her to lock the door to keep Cattus and Canis out. She joked, “And you too?”

He laughed, “Yeah, me too.” I’m involved with Nicole, and I’m not going to screw that up. As much as I’d like… Nope, not going there.

Nan rolled up on her elbow as Fargo knocked on the door, “Coffee?”

She groaned, “I’m barely awake. Let me run through the fresher, but coffee sounds good!”

An hour later, they sat at the table in the kitchen as Fargo fixed them both a real cup of coffee.

Nan was besieged by Canis and Cattus, one on each side demanding attention, and she laughed as she petted them, “I can’t believe these are really wild animals! They seem so cuddly and sweet.”

Fargo chuckled, and looked at Cattus, “Well, she can tear you limb from limb in about forty-five seconds. Smile for Nan, Cattus!” Pushing a thought to Cattus to open her mouth and put her paw, claws extended gently on Nan’s leg. Cattus did so, and Fargo felt Nan’s shock.

Turning to Canis, he told her to go to guard, and Canis rippled her lips, bringing a growl from the bottom of her chest and standing her ruff up. Nan, in an unconscious reaction, drew both hands in and put them on the table. “Dammit Ethan, I get your point. They aren’t pets, well, not so much. Stop it already.”

Fargo smiled as he gave both animals the command to relax, and they both licked Nan’s hands in a peace gesture.

Stirring her coffee she continued, “I’m going to have to continue the current patrol, but I’ve talked back to Sector and they agree that we need a stronger presence here, at least for a little while. Probably six or so months, which is about how long it will take for us to finish up this leg of the show the flag patrol.”

Fargo nodded, “So?”

“I’m going to drop a company here, well Rushing River. They’re going to be autonomous as far as planetary control, in other words, they will be subordinate to the colonel at White Beach, but they will be a quick reaction force for this sector of the Rimworlds. I’m also going to leave one assault shuttle with them, and I’d like to have Hyderabad available as a long range transport if required. I can’t talk the Admiral into leaving a destroyer here, but there will be one at Star Center.”

Taking a sip of coffee she sighed, “Oh, that is so good! Anyway, I’m leaving Major Jacky Culverhouse in command, but she’s an MP, so she’ll be the liaison with White Beach. The real command will be her hubby, Captain Culverhouse and Captain Garibaldi. They’re both mustangs, in their eighties, and have multiple combat tours, they’re a couple of problem children if they get bored. But, they’ll have a full deployment kit, a couple of Darkies…”

Fargo interrupted, “Darkies?”

Nan chuckled, “That’s what they call themselves. They’re a mated pair of scouts from Anadarko, out in Alpha Centauri. Moby and Dineah, they go by MobyDineah.”

Fargo looked at her, “Anadarko? Scouts? I thought that was one of the Wild West colonies.”

“It is, one point five G, sixty percent landmass, limited water, hellacious mountains. Pretty much ignored, until one of our GalPat ships stopped there about thirty years ago. There was some friendly competition with the locals, and our scouts and Special Forces got their asses handed to them. Darkies are short and wide, strong, and sneaky as hell.” Nan took another sip of coffee, “The settlers are all at least half Earth stock Amerind, lots of Comanche, Cherokee, Lakota Sioux and Apache. Apparently the original stock came from Oklahoma, near Fort Sill, so they’ve adopted a Cavalry way of life.”

“What rank are they?” Fargo asked.

“They are direct accessions into GalPat as Chief Sergeants, and they are also completely telepathic with each other. Part of their mating, apparently.”

Fargo filed that away as he whistled, “Oh, that could be convenient!”

Nan grinned, then dropped into a solemn expression, “And I’m leaving one maintenance tech to support the company. Senior Sergeant McDougal.”

Fargo picked up on her change of expression, “And?”

“Well, he’s a different bird.” Nan twirled her cup, “Ah, he’s got a Star of Valor, and they want him a long way from the flagpole.”

“A maintainer with a Star?”

Nan shrugged, “Yep, on his first Det as a lead. He got left behind inadvertently, or so it was claimed. Something about his locator and datacomp being blocked in a maintenance tunnel they were building. He killed thirty some odd Dragoons rather innovatively, while trying to get off the planet. And he apparently had charges on the T-gate’s power when the good guys came back through the gate. He got the charges off the gate and stuck on his armor, and he ran for it. Blew a leg off, but protected the gate.”

Fargo whistled, “Damn, so he’s basically a kid!”

Nan said, “Yep, maybe forty. But he’s damn good, and I need to keep him busy. This should do it.”

Fargo rolled his eyes, “So… Problem child commanders, problem child maintainer, any more good news?”

Nan blushed, “Well, the company I’m leaving are Herms.”

Fargo just shook his head, “Hermaphrodites? Why them?”

“Well, they keep trying to kill the KTs when they spar. They’ve kept the docs and Med-Comps busy on the ship,” Nan admitted.

“Lemme guess, the Templars think the Herms are an abomination, right?” Nan nodded. “And Herms being Herms, just love to tweak the KTs every chance they get, right?” Another nod. “So what brilliant individual put those two companies in the same ship?”

Nan sighed, “After the dust up on Rigel Three, where they fought side by side and kicked Goon ass, HQ thought it would promote harmony if we put them together. But Mack and Bob can handle them. I’m sure of it.”

Fargo rolled his eyes, “I’m glad I’m retired and I can stay back here in the Green, in this little cabin. I don’t want to be anywhere near Rushing River when that crowd gets bored!”

Nan sat up suddenly, “You’re serious aren’t you? I thought…”

“You thought what?”

“I thought… I thought you were in command of the mercs.”

Fargo chuckled, “Command? A bunch of retired CSMs and Warrants? Hell no! If anything, I was an advisor who was mostly ignored. Anyway, they actually are employees of Grey Lady Security.”

“That’s not what I heard or saw, Ethan, they followed you. You went in and fought… Wait a minute, Grey Lady? That damn company has their tentacles all the way out here?”

“It’s my world too. And I was able to use my talents to help out. Adrenalin rush and all that. As for Grey Lady, she does seem to get around for an immobile statue,” Fargo said with a laugh.

Nan smacked him on the arm, “That’s not… Argghhh!  Men!”

An hour later, standing on the porch, Nan turned to Fargo, “Ethan, I can’t thank you enough…”

Fargo put his fingers to her lips, “Nan, there isn’t anything you can say. I’ve truly enjoyed you being here, and I can’t tell you how proud of you I am. You’re a credit to the Corps, and I’d love for you to stay, but I know you have responsibilities.” Scuffing his boot, he looked at Cattus and Canis watching them and continued, “You know you’re always welcome here.”

Turning, she hugged him wordlessly, then stepped back. He led her down the steps to the field in front of the house, where Hyderabad’s shuttle sat waiting. As they walked toward it, the Hunter version of a butterfly about a foot across flew in front of them. Nan jumped back, dodging it, as Fargo laughed. “Shut up dammit,” Nan said, “I don’t like fluttering stuff.” He helped her in, and threw her bag in the back under the netting and waved to Evie as he stepped off the back ramp.

As the shuttle lifted off he trudged back to the liteflyer. Ensuring his bead rifle was secure, he directed his thoughts to the girls, as he thought of them, to guard the house. A short run and he lifted the liteflyer off and drifted out over the canyon, enjoying the view as he headed for the spaceport.

Twenty minutes later he landed at the spaceport in his usual spot by the gate. Securing the liteflyer, he was surprised to see Sergeant Omar pull up in his patrol vehicle. Omar squeaked a greeting that his Galtrans projected to Fargo’s implant as, “Ho, lieutenant of the retired, ride to the ceremony you would like?”

Fargo nodded, “Ride to the ceremony would be appreciated.” He climbed aboard and Sergeant Omar rattled off across the spaceport. Five minutes later he pulled up to the side of the administration building and Fargo hopped off the vehicle with a wave.

Stepping to the corner of the building, he saw a GalPat podium and reviewing stand erected, and a company of troops in blacks at parade rest in front of the podium. As he watched, a group of dignitaries led by Colonel Randall stepped out of the administration building and started walking toward the podium.

He saw the planetary Governor, Klynton, her assistant, Gann, followed by what Fargo thought of as her GalPat lackey Colonel Cameron. Then a couple of other GalPat Colonels and Nan Randall. Mikhail, looking uncomfortable in a suit, brought up the rear. Fargo spun, sensing someone coming up behind him.

He saw a youngish troop, wearing a Star of Valor, who nodded to him as he stuck his head around the corner. “Aw shit. There is no way I’m gonna be able to sneak into formation.” Turning to look at Fargo he added, “Sorry sir. Didn’t mean to cuss. I was working on getting sh.. cra… stuff set up and I forgot to watch my wrist comp for time.”

Fargo realized he was looking at Senior Sergeant Ian McDougal and smiled, “Well, I guess we can watch the ceremony from here. You must be one of the maintainers.”

McDougal nodded, “Yeah, the only one for this bunch. And they only gave me three Mechs. I got them digging now, but I’m already behind. Normally we get six for something like this.”

“Digging?”

“We gotta dig a basement and tunnels connecting the buildings. Also storage and maintenance spaces for security purposes. Maybe you’ll just forget I said anything, okay?”

Fargo nodded, “I know nothing. I heard nothing. By the way, I’m Captain Fargo, the local militia commander, so I’ll be working with y’all from time to time.”

McDougal grimaced, “Ah shit. Sorry, sir.”

Fargo grinned, “Don’t sweat it troop. I’d rather a working troop than a chair borne warrior. You catch any crap for not making muster, you tell the captain to come talk to me. I’ll cover for you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Rimworld- Stranded part 4…

In the Dark

McDougal looked at the blocked tunnel in shock, as his HUD pinged that Mech Four had sustained critical damage, and it was powering down. Panicking, he called up Mech One, and found that it was still operating. Sobbing with relief, he relaxed the combat padding and bit into one of the globes of hooch, then quickly downed a second one.

He heard movement and whining in front of him, and focused on Mech One; it seemed to be standing on its head, and McDougal realized it was repositioning to start a vertical tunnel to Building Six. He brought the Mech menu up, confirmed it was still programmed to stop at the ferrocrete, and sagged back.

04:58:15 showed in the countdown window, and McDougal suddenly started breathing fast and feeling sick to his stomach. He rotated the cameras around and recoiled from the closeness of the sides of the tunnel, then turned the HUD suit lights off. No other light penetrated the complete darkness, and he started to panic.

Feeling around, he found the two remaining globes of hooch and bit both of them, trying to calm down.  Oh shit, I’m stuck down here… I can’t get out, I’m in a fucking tomb of my own making. I’m failing the Patrol. What ever gave me the idea I could get out of here? Shit, shit, shit!

Sweat started pouring down his face and the nausea increased as his fear turned to anger. Fuck it, I’ll just use a charge to end it all. Pulling the bag of charges up, he took one out of the bag and flipped it around, letting the magnet attach to the front of his armor. He threw up and the suit started beeping a health warning, as he called up the charge menu.

Fueled by the alcohol, his blood pressure rose along with his anger. Impaired by the hundred proof hooch, he couldn’t seem to organize this thoughts. As he fumbled through the charge menu, the suit’s onboard medical monitor finally decided he was in trouble, and triggered his pharmacope to release enough meds to knock him out.

 

***

 

A distant beeping, becoming louder and louder finally woke McDougal up. He shook his head and groaned, My god, what hit me? Where? Why is the charge menu up? The beeping continued, and he finally focused on the display blinking in time with the beeping. It was the timer, and it was showing 00:09:12.

McDougal couldn’t connect the dots for a couple of seconds, then realized it was the timer showing the completion time for Mech One’s vertical trench. How long have I been out? What the hell is going on? He cleared the charge menu, shook his head and groaned.

Pulling the drinking tube to his face, he sipped cautiously, and managed to keep the liquid nutrients down without gagging. He sniffed and realized that he was rank as hell, and cranked up the suit’s recirculation to knock the smell down. He took another drink and felt his bladder let go, along with his sphincter. Feeling vaguely embarrassed, even though he knew the suit would recycle everything, he set the suit padding back to combat mode and felt it compress in on him.

Coming more alert by the minute, he started thinking clearly, Okay, I’m still alive. Mech One is about done. How do I get it down and me up there? Sorting through the menu, he found if he pushed Mech Four back a foot or two, there would probably be enough room for Mech One to slide into the side tunnel Mech Four had created.

As he started to push the Mech, he panned the camera down and saw the shaped charge attached to the chest of the armor. Where the fuck? Did I do that? Detaching the magnet, he fitted the charge back into the case, and set it on top of the broken Mech.

Pitting three-quarters of a ton of armor against a ton of disabled Mech was an exercise in leverage, and fifteen minutes later, he’d moved Mech Four about three feet, while digging two trenches in the floor of the tunnel and almost sending himself into another panic attack.

Pulling up the Mech menu, he commanded Mech One to cut its anti-grav and drop back to the tunnel as he put the carat over the side tunnel. He watched the Mech drop softly to the floor of the tunnel, then obediently turn itself into the side tunnel and stop.

McDougal eased forward and rotated the camera up, seeing an eight foot by five foot shaft extending sixty feet, according to the laser range finder, and ending in a smooth grey surface. That meant ferrocrete, and McDougal thought for a minute, Crap, I’m going to have to use anti-grav. I sucked at that in training, and that was, what, two years ago that I requaled? Damn…

Spikes, where is the menu for the spikes?

McDougal finally found the right menu, and extended the carbon nanotube stacers that formed the stabilization spikes from the feet of the armor, two more stacers extended from the arms. Dreading what he was about to try, he activated the anti-grav plates and made a jumping motion inside the suit to activate the system. Nothing happened.

He knew he sucked at maneuvering the armor, especially in the anti-grav mode and this particular maneuver required a precision he didn’t have.  He jumped a little harder, the anti-grav kicked in, and he made it about fifteen feet up the tunnel, missing the walls.  It was going well, until he looked down-the suit followed his head orientation and jammed him sideways in the shaft.

Throwing his head back, the suit regained vertical orientation, but fell back to the floor of the tunnel with a clang. Cussing and shaking his head, McDougal tried again and this time made it almost thirty feet up before the momentum caused the armor to stop. Kicking out his legs, he forced the stacers into the sides of the tunnel and effectively stopped the fall.

Focusing the camera up, he lased the top of the tunnel at twenty-three feet, and prepared to jump again. Making the jumping motion, he raised the left arm and extended it above the top of the armor, hoping to stick the stacers there into the ferrocrete.

He felt and heard the clang as the stacers hit, and he jammed his legs out to punch the stacers into the side of the tunnel, then cautiously extracted one set of stacers, bent that leg, and pushed the stacers back in three feet higher.

Repeating the movement with the other leg, he retracted the stacers in his arms, and maneuvered the manipulator up past the head of the armor into contact with the ferrocrete floor of Building Six.

A blinking alert in his HUD caught his attention, blinking the carat over it, he saw a report from Mech Three scroll across his HUD! Hot damn! I’ve got some help up top! Blinking over to the Mech menu, he instructed Mech Three to give him the holo feed from its onboard cameras.

As the holo flashed up, he groaned, as he realized Mech Three was sitting directly over him! Crap, crap, crap… He started laughing hysterically, until he realized the Mech was not showing any Goons in any camera view. He quickly programmed the Mech to back up four feet, and cut a seventy-two inch hole in the ferrocrete directly above him.

McDougal cautiously reached out electronically for the net, but didn’t get any response, nor did he get a response from the fusion power unit running in Building Six. Panning Mech Three’s camera, he saw why. The entire control panel was hanging loose and numerous wires were cut and dangling off to the side.

He tried accessing the self-destruct menu, but there was no response, confirming the Goons had apparently disabled everything but the actual unit itself. Cussing, he panned the armor camera down to confirm he still had the four shaped charges clamped to his front.

Bringing up the shaped charge menu, McDougal stepped it through the menu options.  He selected Ejecta Penetrator, then brought up the first charge.  He focused his suit camera on it, captured the serial number, and loaded the program to into it.  He set the Ejecta Penetrator depth to thirty-six inches. He continued through the other three charges, setting them all, and sticking them on the armor’s legs with the built-in magnets.

Fifteen minutes later, his HUD blinked with an alert from Mech Three: 5 MINUTES TO COMPLETE TASKING.  McDougal impatiently waited out the time, then moved Mech Three ten feet away to clear a space for him to land the armor on solid ground. He started to jump the armor, but it wouldn’t react. Looking down, he noticed he’d inadvertently relaxed the padding and brought it back to combat mode.

Taking a deep breath, he made a jumping motion and the armor broke through the remaining half inch of ferrocrete with ease. He leaned forward as far as he dared to try to get the suit to land on solid ground, and extended first one foot, and then the other and barely missed falling back down in the shaft. He landed with a loud clang and immediately put his cameras on holoview.

Hearing snarling, he clomped around the side of the power unit, seeing three Goons in skin suits looking around trying to figure out what was causing the noise in a supposedly empty building.  Without thinking, McDougal swept out one arm, and crushed two of the three against the side of the power unit with an even louder gonging noise. The third Goon hissed, ducked, and ran for the door, getting away from McDougal.

Rather than try to catch him, McDougal pulled the first charge free from his leg, attached it just above the mid-line of the power unit and lifted his manipulator free.

CHARGE ATTACHED. PENETRATOR. ARM Y/N. He blinked the carat over Y and the HUD came back, CONFIRM? Y/N. Blinking it again, he programmed the other three as quickly as he could move around the unit. Once he placed the last charge, he answered, CONFIRM? Y/N for the fourth time. He blinked again andgot yet another cue FIRE SERIAL OR SIMUL WITH CHARGES 03494 THRU 03497? SER/SIM? Blinking over SIM, his HUD brought up a new cue, SET DELAY Y/N? He selected Y, and another cue popped up, SET DELAY- SECONDS MINUTES HOURS.

He bowed his head, thinking about distances and how fast he could move in the armor. He knew the troops that practiced in the armor could do thirty miles an hour, but he knew that was beyond his training. Sixty, maybe eighty feet to travel. That’s how far he had to go to the TGate. But he had to get out of Building Six first. Fuck it, it’s now or never. The escaped Goon is probably on his way back with help. Holy Mary, Mother of God… setting the delay to sixty seconds, he hurriedly confirmed it and got a red blinking button on the left side of the HUD with the legend CMD/DET.

McDougal took a deep breath and blinked the CMD/DET active. It started counting down: 60, 59, 58 … and he headed for the roll up door. Suddenly a loud explosion sounded outside the building, putting his external mics into attenuation, and distracting him for a couple of seconds. He started moving again, and just as he went to crash through the door, his HUD flooded with information, the net became active, his radios started going nuts and cannon fire was heard close to his position.

An authoritative voice overrode all the other comms, “Hilda, drive straight ahead a thousand yards. Mike, drive a thousand yards right oblique. Tango, drive a thousand yards left oblique, we’ve got six more MK-84s coming right behind us. Hustle troops!”

…43, 42, 41…

Shit, friendlies are coming back through the gate! McDougal switched directions, and moved back to the power unit. Calling up the charge menu he searched frantically, but, he couldn’t find an abort cue! …32, 31, 30, 29… He managed to pull one charge loose from the power unit, then another. …24, 23, 22… slamming them down on the leg of his armor, As soon as I get outside, I’ll throw these fuckers into the next country… He pulled the other two loose, turned and sprinted as quickly as he could for the roll-up door.

…14, 13, 12…

Running away from the TGate and Building Six, he blinked the carat over the emergency locator and screamed, “Friendly, I’m friendly. McDougal, Ian, Senior Sergeant. Four shaped charges… …3, 2, 1…  The four charges went of simultaneously, blowing both lower arms and the entire left leg off the armor.

McDougal felt a flash of heat, then nothing. So this is what it’s like to die.

 

***

 

Four months later, fresh out of the Medbox and rehab, Senior Sergeant McDougal stood at attention in dress blacks, in front of the General’s desk wearing his freshly presented Medal of Valor. The general had dismissed everyone else, and McDougal had heard a click as the general fiddled with something under the edge of his desk. “At ease, Sergeant. Feel free to scratch if you need to, I know those regenerated body parts itch to beat hell.”

McDougal scratched his left thigh with an audible sigh of relief as the General continued, “You are to be commended for your initiative on Regulus Four, and the intelligence you collected and managed to get back through the Tannhauser Gate in a rather innovative fashion. You are also credited with killing over thirty enemy in your improvised explosion, including the Dragoon’s equivalent of a full colonel.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“But you’re about dumber than a box of rocks!” Taking a globe of hooch out of his desk drawer, the general rolled it slowly across the desk, “Care for a drink, Senior Sergeant?”

McDougal was so startled he said, “Yes, sir! Uh, I mean no, sir!”

The general leaned back in the form fitted chair, “Son, we know y’all think it’s a big bad secret, and that nobody knows, but if I ever hear of you covering up your locator chip, or not having your datacomp with you at all times again, I will personally drum your dumb ass out of the Patrol. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir!”

 

The End…

 

Rimworld- Stranded part 3…

Scrambling

McDougal pulled a Tic/Toc from the locker, flipped it on the bench, and set a Ferret on the bench next to it. He set the Tic/Toc parameters just like the ones on the oxygen tanks, but put it on a different frequency, he pulled up the Ferret menu and started fiddling with settings until he got the Ferret to ping the frequency of the Tic/Toc and watched the Ferret open the switch.

Satisfied, he put the Tic/Toc at the end of the maintenance tunnel and started checking distances from the Ferret to the Tic/Toc to see what the maximum range of the ping was. It ended up being about forty feet, and McDougal cussed at the lack of range. Because of where the pallets and oxygen tanks were currently placed, he couldn’t get one Ferret to hit all of the Tic/Tocs.

Grabbing the skid of flour sacks, he maneuvered the pallet at the far end of the tunnel back to the front of the hooch tunnel. Killing the hologram, he stalked down to the still, opened the hopper and pulled out another globe of booze and bit it. Looking at the hopper, he realized it was almost full.  He pulled a double handful of the globes out, carried them to the tunnel entrance, and set them on the floor. Doing that twice more, he had about fifty globes of almost pure alcohol sitting at the entry.

Taking one more trip to the hopper, he pulled the last four globes out and stuffed them into his skin suit. It’s alcohol, it’ll burn. And I’ll be damned if I leave any evidence behind. If I restart it, maybe there will be enough manufactured to burn it down and destroy the evidence. Leaving the hopper open, he jury rigged the micro switch to start the still processing again. He walked back to the entry, picked up as many globes as he could and carried them another twenty yards down the tunnel toward the tunnel face. He deposited the next load ten yards closer to the flour-laden skid, and finally, put the last double handful in the center of the pallet.

McDougal made another pass through the supply tunnel, looking for the explosives he figured should be in there but were not on the inventory list he checked earlier.  He finally found one pallet of explosives underneath the rifle bead rounds, and used the portable skid to break it out. Opening the lid, he found a list of the contents on the inside and started strewing the explosives down the supply tunnel, hoping they would also go when the flour blew and add some life to this particular party.

In the very bottom of the explosives pallet were two boxes, holding six shaped charges each. Dragging them over to the skid, he loaded them on it, and maneuvered them back down to the armor. Dumping them next to it, he decided he’d take some time to eat and clean up while he could.

He was debating eating another emergency ration when he smelled smoke and heard a loud crash against the tunnel door. The power in the tunnel died, and the emergency lighting kicked on. Dropping the ration on the worktable, he scrambled out of the maintenance tunnel and started running for his armor.

Cussing, he saw that Herbert hadn’t finished installing the emergency lighting in the last half of the tunnel. He pawed a small flashlight out of his pocket as he frantically brought up the remote BIT on his datacomp, started the process and hoped the armor would be open and ready by the time he got there.

As he ran, he realized he had no way to block the smaller tunnel. You stupid shit, if you blow the flour, the overpressure is going to blow your ass all the way down the tunnel and probably pancake you against the Mechs at the end of the tunnel! How can you be so frikkin’ stupid?

Jumping into the armor as quickly as he could, he waited impatiently for the BIT to complete, then stood and grappled the two bags of shaped charges with the right manipulator arm. As he started into the tunnel, the bags got caught on the side of the tunnel and McDougal yanked them free and got them in front of him.

Pulling up the Ferret menu, he fed the programming into it for the Tic/Tocs attached to the oxygen tanks and turned sideways to launch it back into the main tunnel, positioning it on an overhead duct he’d marked earlier on his datacomp. Bringing up a range ring on his carat, he confirmed the forty foot range of the Ferret would now encompass all the oxygen tanks and Tic/Tocs.  He sent a self-destruct delay command to the Ferret timed at five hundred milliseconds after the Tic/Tocs fired.

Programming a second Ferret, he deployed it at the entrance to the small tunnel for real-time updates on the main tunnel itself. Popping a side window open in his HUD, he zoomed the Ferret’s video to the tunnel door, and left it there.

Setting the bags down, he used the manipulator to extract two shaped charges, and looked for the programming for them. He had a moment of panic when he couldn’t find them, then remembered they were construction charges and wouldn’t be filed under his weapons menu. As he blinked through the menu options to get to construction he had a random thought, Dammit, I should have moved the holo over to this tunnel, then I could watch who comes in, if and when they do…

He finally got the construction shaped charge menu up, and was confronted with multiple options for the shaped charge settings. As he scrolled through he thought, Damn, what do I… Ejecta Penetrator- No, Beehive- No, LSC? What the hell is, oh! Blinking on LSC he got CONFIRM LSC Y/N, he blinked yes, and got another set of options.

How many options are there—it’s construction for cryin’ out loud? Scrolling down he didn’t see a flat plane or bar linear shaped charge, but found wave shape. Yeah, yeah, that’s what I want! Wave shape… Blinking it and confirming it, he got yet another set of options.   Uh… Bar? Yeah, there it is. He blinked and confirmed the bar, and the menu finally quit giving him options. Now it wanted the charge numbers.

Bringing up the first charge, he focused his suit camera on it, captured the serial number, and loaded the program into it, except for angle of deployment. Angle? What the… Unless it’s angle off vertical or horizontal.  If I want to drop twelve feet, then I’d need, uh… twelve feet of spacing, that’s what, sixty-three degrees? Close enough! Selecting sixty-three for the angle, he saw a graphic representation of the charge’s deployment and explosive shape pop up in his HUD. Backing down the tunnel a few feet, he used the manipulator to bring it up to the ceiling, but the angle was pointing away from him so it didn’t attach.

Flipping it around, he pressed it to the ceiling, and commanded attachment. He felt two small taps as the charge fastened to the ceiling.

CHARGE ATTACHED. LSC. 63 DEGREES VERTICAL. ARM Y/N. He blinked the carat over Y and the HUD came back, CONFIRM? Y/N. Blinking the carat to confirm for the first charge, he then programmed the second one, he went twelve feet further in and attached it to the ceiling. His HUD lit again CHARGE ATTACHED. LSC. 63 DEGREES VERTICAL. ARM Y/N. He blinked the carat over Y and the HUD came back, CONFIRM? Y/N. After confirming the second charge, he got yet another cue on his HUD.  FIRE SERIAL OR SIMUL WITH CHARGE 03493? SER/SIM? Blinking the carat to SIM so that the charges would fire at the same time, his HUD said, SET DELAY Y/N? He selected N, and a red blinking button came up on the left side of the display with the legend CMD/DET.  He was now set.

He was getting too many feeds on the HUD, so he used the carat to blink the graphics for the shaped explosives away, and glanced at the timer running in the upper corner, 07:21:12. Grimly, he stared at the video feed and wondered what was going on on the other side of the door. Relaxing the armor’s padding, he squirmed around until he could get his hand in his skin suit pocket, and pulled out the four globes of hooch he’d grabbed from the hopper.

As he contemplated biting one, a nagging thought hit him, Dammit! How the hell am I going to get by the Mechs? Shit! Too late probably to back one or both out, no I can’t back them both out.

Pulling up the Mech menu, he looked at the statuses of both units and just for the hell of it, tried to reach Mech Three. Still no answer.  Commanding Mech Four to start digging a side tunnel ten yards back from Mech One, he commanded the manipulator to pick up the bags with the rest of the shaped charges and started moving slowly down the tight tunnel.

Being careful to not jar the explosives, he left the armor’s padding relaxed and sipped at the nutrition tube in the helmet as he did isometric exercises with his legs and arms. Gah, I thought the crap in the E-rats tasted bad, this shit is even worse! At least if I throw up, it’ll get reabsorbed and I can try to drink it again. I wonder when this stuff was changed last?

His HUD pinged with an alert from the Ferret at the tunnel mouth. He snapped out of his daze, commanded the padding to combat mode, and peered at the video feed. He didn’t see anything, so he blinked it back thirty seconds, then ran it forward again on show motion.  Now he saw the heat color change on the upper corner of the door.

As he watched, a random spark popped through, followed by a bright plasma arc, which slowly traced its way around the side of the door.  Instinctively McDougal drew back, then realized he was almost a hundred and fifty feet up the tunnel. Unless somebody shined a beam up the tunnel, there wasn’t any way to see his armor, as it was reactively anti-reflective.

07:00:03, McDougal cussed under his breath at the slowness of the countdown, and shook his head. This wasn’t good. It wouldn’t take them long to cut through the tunnel door, then what? Blow the tunnel immediately? Try to collect all the data I can? For what? They trap me down here, I’m dead. Shit, maybe I should just fire the flour without dropping the tunnel. That way it’s all over. Hell, it may be all over anyway, if those charges catch a fracture in the rock!   Oh crap, how am I going to fire the charges and still command the Ferret?

He frantically blinked through the menus until he got the Ferret menu back on top. Time delay- immediate, two seconds, ten seconds, variable. Selecting variable, he pondered, How long is long enough? How quickly will the ceiling collapse? Dammit, I’m going to set it to five seconds and I’ll either live or die…

FIVE popped up and he blinked the carat over it, and watched a blinking yellow button with a five in it pop onto the left side of the HUD. Damn, this thing is getting crowded! How the hell the troops fight these things in combat is beyond me! The Ferret video pinged again, and he saw a plasma arc cut through the center of the door in a quick circle, and a cylindrical object shoot through it.

He glanced at the timer seeing 06:18:25, and almost fired the Tic/Tocs then, but waited as the Ferret in the ceiling locked on the movement and a second screen popped up on the HUD. It showed what appeared to be six legs unfold from the cylinder, and some kind of sensor open out of the end of the cylinder. The Goon probe scuttled off almost too fast for the Ferret to follow it, and disappeared into the supply tunnel.

Three minutes later, it scuttled back out, across and into the maintenance tunnel. Three more minutes, and it came darting down the main tunnel. McDougal was of two minds as to what to do, blow the tunnel or wait and see what the probe would do next. He decided to wait a bit longer. He knew the probe couldn’t hurt him in armor.

Mech Four pinged TUNNEL COMPLETED, and McDougal moved quickly up the tunnel to the back of Mech One, then commanded Mech Four back into the tunnel. The video from the Ferret at the entrance to the smaller tunnel picked up the probe as it scampered along the tunnel wall, then flipped to IR to follow the probe as it turned into the smaller tunnel.

McDougal cussed again as the Ferret’s video picked up a bag of shaped charges lying crossways in the tunnel, obviously ripped free earlier. He quickly programmed another Ferret and set it on the back of the Mech, pointing down the tunnel to pick up the probe if it came all the way down the tunnel.

The probe didn’t pass the shaped charges, and he wondered if the probe or whoever was monitoring it thought the tunnel was booby-trapped. Suddenly his external mics picked up a clanging noise and the video from the Ferret in the main tunnel slewed violently back toward the door, which was now lying on the floor of the tunnel. Six armored Goons were stacked in the opening, weapons at the ready.

Reflexively McDougal moved the carat over the blinking five, started to blink it into action, but stopped again, wondering what would happen next. The six Goons cleared the maintenance and supply tunnels but stopped short of entering the small tunnel, and seemed to be arguing with each other. From the size of their armor, it was apparent they couldn’t fit.  One of them fired a plasma bolt up the tunnel, but it missed McDougal by a couple of feet as it slagged a fifteen foot section of the side wall.

His flight or fight reaction had him bringing up the bead rifle, almost without thought, but he stopped short of firing a reply back down the tunnel. One of the Goons stayed at the entrance to the smaller tunnel, while the other five stalked back to the main tunnel entrance.

McDougal glanced at the timer and was surprised to see it click under six hours, then the video from Ferret in the overhead slewed back to the tunnel entry. Two Goons in armor came through, followed by another six also in armor, then two more Goons in their version of skin suits. The Ferret picked up the snarling, whistling language the Goons used and attempted to do real-time translation. Without access to the network, it did not have enough data to produce a useable rendition of the Goon conversation much to McDougal’s frustration.

Looking at the video closely, McDougal could make out what appeared to be rank tabs, but he’d never bothered to learn what they stood for, since it wasn’t his job. Now he wished he’d paid more attention. Another group of four Goons came in, pulling some kind of device on a skid.  He watched they kowtowed to the first group, then headed towards where the smaller tunnel started.

The second Ferret’s video picked up the guard at the entrance to the smaller tunnel coming to what McDougal could only think of as the Goon version of attention.  He blinked the carat over the button with the five, closely followed by blinking over the red button and detonated his flour bombs.

Five seconds later, the overpressure from the flour blast knocked him over the top of Mech One, and pelted his armor with rocks and boulders, as the tunnel collapsed. Shaken, McDougal managed to get the armor back on its feet, and risked the HUD’s lights, only to see a tunnel full of dust, and what appeared to be a rock fall that ended about twenty feet behind Mech Four.