Vanguard Update

Another 2.9k word update for my latest project, which I shall dub Vanguard, until I say otherwise.

***

“That’s right recruit,” the Captain replied. “While changing out three parts might seem cumbersome, together they make a weapon that can penetrate any combat armour known to man, or Balokarid,” he added. “Coilguns can even penetrate the armour of some vehicles, though I don’t expect you to go toe-to-toe with a tank. Now for a demonstration.”

He snapped the final part of the barrel onto the platform, picking up the heat sinks along with a small piece of flat plastic with six cutouts. He slotted the sinks into these holders, then slapped the magazine into the well. He walked over to the range, shouldering his rifle.

As he pulled the trigger, there was a strange snap as he sent a single round downrange, a paper target hanging from the ceiling flittering as something passed through its center. The gunshot sounded like it was being put through a synthesizer, the electrical properties of the weapon adding a certain ionizing quality to the loud bang.

“While you can shoot without any sinks, you run the risk of melting the barrel, or worse, the whole thing blowing up in your face. You don’t have to slot the sinks in one by one, you can use an auto loader like this one, just slot the darker side against the barrel and the magnets do the rest.”

He brought up the plastic board holding the heat sinks, placing it on the underside of the rifle. When he lifted it away down, the sinks had slotted neatly into their places with tiny electric whirs. It was like a speed loader for a revolver in a way.

“Once the sinks go red, that’s a good time to eject them,” the Captain explained. He hit a release near the trigger, and the sinks tumbled out, clicking against the bench. “Whatever you do, don’t ever reuse them, not that you could pick them up anyway, just eject and forget. Same deal for the battery, though keep in mind they aren’t cheap like the sinks.”

The battery made up a part of the stock, the Captain unloading it with a click, demonstrating how it hooked into the rear of the receiver.

“First things first we’re gonna get you all set up with a rifle, there are plenty of attachments in the armoury, so pick your poison. Once you get a feel for the weapon, we’ll start loading up your rigs with sinks, get you into the habit of switching them out on the fly. Balokarids, we have upscaled rifles that you might find more comfortable, follow me. The rest of you, get to work.”

The Captain led the two Balokarids to the rear of the armoury, the rest of the team moving over to the weapon racks. There were shelves stocked with all kinds of attachments nearby, full of laser sights, scopes, foregrips, and differently sized magazines. Ryan elected for a reflex scope, along with a mounted flashlight that could be switched to a green targeting laser at the press of a button. He considered the heat shield the Captain had mentioned, but decided against it, surely the heat sinks weren’t that dangerous, right?

He set his weapon into semi-auto mode, grabbing a couple spare magazines before moving over to the range, walking down until he found a free booth. He placed the little plastic sinks into the barrel, then shouldered the weapon, sighting in on a target twenty meters out, the humanoid outline riddled with bullet holes.

He wrapped his fingers under the grip on the barrel, and squeezed the trigger. A single electrical gunshot rang out, part of the outline chipping off at the top of the head. Despite the power, there was much less recoil than Ryan had expected, his scope barely wavering as he took another potshot.

“Can’t believe we weren’t using these things ages ago!” Brindley hollered from the booth to the right. He was firing in automatic mode, Ryan noting his sinks were glowing a hot orangey colour.

“Watch that cone of fire, Private,” Adamski chided, appearing behind the pair. “The penetration power on the coilguns must be considered at all times. You could be on a ship, or a station, and one stray shot could depressurize whatever room you’re in.”

Dominic turned up after a few minutes, configuring his gun into a much heavier platform, the well occupied by a giant drum magazine, his hand clutching a bipod/foregrip hybrid attachment. The muzzle was capped with a longer, ported barrel with a few extra heat sink slots. It almost looked like a machine gun, while Ryan and Brindley’s were more aimed towards the assault rifle role.

Ryan wanted to try out longer ranged shots, so he stepped away from the range, moving back to the armoury, the heat sinks not hot enough to be ejected just yet. He found a spare table and swapped out the scope for a more magnified one, and attached a longer stock, replacing the default one. As he tested the weight of his new DMR, he noticed a flare of colour from the other end of the workshop, Ryan turning his head to see Samiha was working on her own weapon.

Unlike the coilguns Ryan and the others were using, hers was gigantic by comparison, longer than Ryan was tall. By the way she was hammering at the barrel, it looked like she was having trouble, Ryan noting that Tilu was over by the range with the Captain. This might be a good time to corner her and see what her deal was.

“There a problem?” he asked, wandering over to stand on the other side of the bench in relation to the alien. His question could have been directed at a lot of things, but he was talking about her weapon. In one hand she had a laser sight, and she was holding the barrel in the other, trying to force the attachment onto the rail there.

“More than one now,” she answered, her feathers puffing up as the laser sight refused to attach. “All this famed technology of yours, and your design philosophy is somehow primitive, finicky.”

“Tilu doesn’t seem to have an issue,” he replied, Samiha glaring at him from across the bench. “Look, you’re doing it wrong,” he added. “Flip the sight so its facing that way. No, the other way. Just give it here and I’ll show you.”

“I can do it!” she snapped, holding the sight out of his reach. “If I wanted your help you’d know it, go play with your little gun and leave me.”

“What’s your beef with me anyway?” he demanded, quickly making sure the Captain and Tilu were still occupied. “If I did something to offend you just tell me.”

“Beef,” she repeated. “Human term referring to a grievance. If you have to ask what my beef is, then you are more ignorant than I took you for.”

“Earlier you called me latecomer,” he continued. “Is that why you’re pissed with me? Can’t imagine what happens to a Balokarid if they miss an appointment.”

“They would be disciplined,” Samiha replied, pointedly slapping a magazine into the well, foregoing the laser sight for the moment. “Which is more than could be said for your ‘army’. I saw soldiersjust as obnoxious as you wandering the torus, reeking of piss and stale drink.”

“… What did you call me?”

She leaned on the workbench, putting her height on display as she leered over him, Ryan having to crane his neck to meet her narrowed eyes. “I know your type, Corporal,” she began. “You think nobody noticed the way you puffed your little chest out when the Captain gave you those stars, made you our Kith? Oh, thank you so much Sir,” she said, miming his voice almost to a fault, the accuracy horrifying him.

“I-I’m trying to straighten this whole thing out, and this is what you say?”

“Can’t handle the heat, huh? No wonder they’ve assigned us to help clean up your forces, you wouldn’t have lasted a day in a Balokartraining regiment.”

“And you think you will here?” he countered, throwing any sense of patience aside. “You’re in my team, alien, that means you do what I say, when I say. Any insubordination on your part and you’re out.”

“Thank you for proving my point,” Samiha grinned. “Now begone, little monkey, unless you have more to say?”

He could think of all manner of things to say, but he stowed it, it wouldn’t do him much good if he let her provoke him any more. He raised his coilgun, turning to pick up another laser sight off a shelf behind him. “Whatever, I tried to make peace, but have it your way,” he said, sliding the laser onto the rail, making sure Samiha could see him do it. “Good luck getting through the program, alien. Trust me when I say you’ll need it.”

He could feel her gaze on his back as he brushed passed her, taking up his spot in the booth and testing the coilgun. After a few reloads, he noticed Samiha walking up to the range, her big gun in her hands, a few attachments including the laser sight jutting out of the hardpoints. He watched as she took a knee behind the barricade, the alien so tall the wall of metal barely reached the hem of her shorts. She took aim, reaching over to flick on the laser, letting out a loud squawk when the light turned on and blasted her in the face.

“What the fuck are you doing, recruit?” the Captain demanded, walking over to Samiha’s booth. “You couldn’t tell you mounted the laser the wrong way around?!”

As Samiha uncovered her face with her hand, her neck swiveled until she was looking over at Ryan, who was chuckling to himself as the scene unfolded. He’d put his own laser on the wrong way to trick her. He detached the little box from his coilgun, tossing it up and down in his hand as she was made the fool in front of everyone.

To say she was glaring daggers would be an understatement, glaring greatswords would have been more fitting, the alien fuming at him from across the range.

Chapter 2: Wedge

Ryan sprinted across the open ground, bullets flying over his head as he lunged for the wall, putting his back against the metal as he fished a mag from his rig. He leaned out to fire a burst from his coilgun, a Confederate soldier kneeling behind some sandbags up ahead crumpling to the ground.

“Push up Dominic!” he shouted, directing an arm towards the now vacant sandbags. “Get some fire on that tower!”

“You got it, boss,” Dominic answered, rounding the corner Ryan had just come from, clutching his boxy helmet with a hand as he kept his head down, crouch-running through the open. Brindley and Ryan put down some covering fire, their enemy ducking behind the polyhedric walls to avoid the gunfire. They were pushing up a wide corridor, the grey walls framed by a whitewashed skybox, numerous nooks in the walls providing too many angles of attack to keep track of.

Dominic deployed the bipod on his heavy coilgun, the muzzle flashing as he sent hundred of rounds down the battlefield, red contrails bridging the space between the two forces. He moved his cone if fire towards one of the rooftops, where a sniper had set up a nest in a protruding watchtower, pieces of alloy snapping away as he ripped the structure apart. Ryan moved up, keeping close to the wall as he dashed across the tiled floor, taking cover just in front of Dominic, Brindley mirroring his movements on the other side. Once they were set up, they would cover Dominic as he moved forward, the three men leapfrogging into the enemy lines.

Gunfire shattered the air as the Confederates were decimated, their armour breaking apart as they riddled their frames with bullets. As they brought down the last target, they stopped to catch their breath, grouping up as they prepared to round the bend ahead.

“Check your sinks, Dominic,” Ryan breathed, watching as the man ejected four of his six sinks, the plastic caps tumbling like loose bullets. “Damn it, where are those birds?”

As if on cue, thundering footsteps drew their attention to the rear, Tilu and Samiha tall enough to step over cover that any human would have to vault or walk around. They were holding more compact versions of the standard coilgun, lighter variants filling a similar role to PDW’s. They looked small in their alien hands, but Ryan would have trouble lifting one if he were to try, they were very upscaled.

They’d been flanked by a group of Confederates a few minutes earlier, the aliens holding the line while the humans pushed up. Ryan liked to think they’d been following his orders, but in reality, the aliens weren’t all that fussed when it came to sticking as a group, Samiha in particular for obvious reasons.

“‘Bout time,” Ryan commented, meeting Samiha’s eyes through her stretched visor. It was custom-made to fit her alien anatomy, making her look like some kind of robotic eagle, the way it followed the curve of her beak. “All that talk of timeliness and you take five minutes to deal with a couple of grunts, Samiha?”

“Ruining your precious performance, am I?” she replied. “What a shame.”

“Could you at least try to take this seriously?” he asked, waving his coilgun at her. “These are our scores you’re talking about, not just mine.”

“Can we put a lid on this, guys?” Brindley asked. “We’re on the clock here and I hear more of them.”

Ryan gave Samiha a look, before directing his attention around the corner. About twenty meters ahead, cover had extended from the base of a ramp, two pairs of Confederates hiding in weight behind it. On the high ground beyond the ramp, three bunkers stood vigilantly, mounted machine guns perched on the windows facing this way. All three of them were manned, with another pair of soldiers crouched out in the open, rifles trained on Ryan’s position.

“We got a lot of bunkers and plenty of open ground,” he said, turning to face his team. “Time to put your famous shields to work, ladies.”

The two Balokarids held their PDW’s in one hand, and brandished their free arms out in front of them. Their wings fanned to their full sizes, draping out like giant flags, the span of their feathers wider than their torsos. On the parts of their arms were the limb joined to the wings was a frame of metal, not unlike an exoskeleton, the strips of light running along their lengths igniting. In a flash, a barrier of shimmering light draped down the length of their wings, stopping as they skirted the floor.

The sheets of light were made up of miniscule polygons, the outlines connecting together to form a visible mesh inside the barrier, travelling like veins through the sheet of light. Ryan didn’t know enough about Balokarid shields to know if it was actual hardened light, or some kind of energy, but they acted like riot shields the aliens could deploy and holster whenever they wished, the tech integrated conveniently into their armour.

“What are your orders?” Tilu asked. She was a little more cooperative than Samiha, so Ryan did his best to direct his orders to her while leaving Samiha out of it as best he could.

“You two will move up first,” he said. “We’ll follow behind. Tilu I want you getting Dominic set up by those barriers near the ramp, once you cover us, we’ll flank left and hit the first bunker, work our way along from the rear.”

“Why don’t I cover Dominic?” Samiha asked. He had a feeling she didn’t want to be anywhere near Ryan, the feeling was certainly mutual.

“Because I said so,” Ryan replied. “Got a problem with that, recruit?”

Any other environment and she might have voiced it, the alien glancing up at the sky as she contemplated. “No,” she murmured.

“Good, on my mark Tilu,” he said, peeking round the wall and counting down from three. “Go, go!”

Tilu rounded the wall, leading with her barrier as she held her PDW one-handed, firing around her shield in short bursts, Dominic sticking close to her flank. Rounds showered the pair as they left cover, Tilu’s aquatic feathers bristling behind her helmet as the rounds dissolved into her shield. The bullets looked like they were entering water, slowing to a gentle stop as the wall of light halted their kinetic energy.

Her barrier began to flash like a pilot light being drained of power. Those shields could absorb a lot of firepower, but not indefinitely. Thankfully the pair reached the cover before it could break apart, Tilu sheathing her wing, and her shield, as she crouched down, firing her coilgun at the soldiers on the other side of the low wall as Dominic set up.

“Our turn,” Ryan said. “Get moving, alien.”

“Try to keep up, little monkey,” Samiha replied, stepping into the open, leveling her shield in front of her chest. Ryan and Brindley fell in behind, exposing as little of themselves as they could as they three of them advanced, Ryan’s coilgun jumping in his hands as he fired around Samiha’s shoulder.

They struggled to keep up with her long strides, Ryan glancing through her transparent shield to track their progress towards the ramp. The machine guns in the bunkers pounded the team, dividing their fire between the two groups.

As they advanced beyond Dominic and Tilu, the pair popping up from behind the barricade to return fire, Samiha leapt onto the ramp, picking up speed as she moved up the slope, firing her coilgun around the bulky shield as she went.

“Slow down Samiha!” Ryan snarled, slipping as he dashed after her. He heard Brindley cry out, Ryan turning around to see him get shot in the chest, then the head, the human dropping his weapon and tumbling down the incline.

He double-timed if after the alien, Samiha lowering her shield as she reached the face of the bunker, holding her coilgun in both hands as she sent a burst of fire into one of the murder holes. She took out the machine gunner, but without any cover, Ryan didn’t last much longer. He was dead, falling on his weapon as he collapsed, tilting his head to track Samiha as she dashed for the next bunker.

She couldn’t get her shield out in time before her chest was riddled with bullets, the soldiers in the bunkers directing their all their fire on Tilu and Dominic now that the immediate threat was gone. The Balokarid’s shields collapsed, and the assault along with it, one last bullet knocking Dominic to the ground.

There was no sound for a few moments, and then a warning claxon sounded off, and an error box appeared in the middle of Ryan’s vision, the man reading off the blocky letters.

Scenario Complete. Please Remove Headset.