As they expected, there were explosive charges in the walls ahead, and the hail of weapons fire didn’t disable all of them. All the suits were rocked hard as the main hallway erupted. Jason’s suit reported a full depth pressure break, indicating that his suit couldn’t seal properly. “Fall back, lad! You won’t survive another blast.”
“There’s no way they’ll risk the structural integrity of the ship with another blast.”
“Fall back you git! I’m not going to tell your wife you got slagged because you were too stubborn to fall back.”
Jason didn’t argue, he simply took several steps back and turned his suit away from the advancing group.
Frost watched his shields charge back up from twenty percent and wished his tactical scanners would calibrate faster. The burst of hot metal and following explosions had blinded everyone. Particle scoops mounted on the shoulders of the encounter suits kicked in, dragging all the smoke filled air into the compression systems so they could be dumped into the dematerialization systems and converted into energy or redirected towards the nanobot resivour to be used to repair the suit’s ablative armour layer. The air cleared and the wreck of the hall ahead became visible. “These grunts are smarter than I thought. We’ve got six metres of no man’s land.” Frost griped. The deck plating was so badly damaged that even his command and control unit chirped with an environmental warning and painted it red on his head’s up display.
“Yup. We’re going to have to be careful. No loader or encounter suits either,” Jason said.
Frost looked at it for a moment longer and chuckled. “I’ve got it. Might not be able to run one of these big encounter suits across, but I know how we can get loaders across.” He didn’t wait to discuss it with anyone, but stepped up to the edge of the severely damaged section, turned and let the suit fall backwards.
“Frost, don’t you dare!” Jason shouted, uncharacteristically angry.
He let the suit fall back and extended his arms over his head. It collided with the weakened deck plating below, forcing much of it down into the room beneath, but the hands of the suit caught the edge of a structural beam. He adjusted his grip and checked the integrity of the metal. With a nod he said; “There ya go lad, a really expensive bridge.”
“You could have hovered over it, you moron,” Jason shot back.
“Aye, but then what would everyone not lucky enough to be in a suit do? Most vacsuit armour doesn’t come with thrusters, in case you dinna notice.”
“But the loader suits-“
“Right about a meter too short with their arms up. Stop your belly acheing and get ready to cross.” Frost double checked the seal on his vacsuit and opened the chest cavity door. “Going to miss this rig though.”
“I could let you pilot mine, sir,” offered Mark Hunsler. “Why, that’s awful kind of you, lad, I think I’ll take you up-“ Frost ducked as he heard weapons’ fire and ran for the line of Triton soldiers. His vacsuit reported a hit right in the middle of his back as he limped for dear life over the thick legs of the encounter suit.
His allies opened fire with a vengeace, and the air was alive with bright, deadly rounds as he finally made it to the safety of a mobile energy shield. He’d forgotten to activate his vacsuit energy shielding, and the back of his lightly armoured uniform was so badly damaged he may as well as have been wearing a bed sheet. He turned with his sidearm in both hands and felt something strike the tip of his sidearm. Frost followed it in the air and he realized it was a grenade just as it went off outside of lethal range. The energy shield in front of them absorbed most of the blast, and the front of his vacsuit protected the rest. “Damn that’s gotta be the luckiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said as he fired several particle rounds down the hall.
“I didn’t even see it until you batted it back, epic reflexes sir!” laughed one of the soldiers beside him.
“No reflexes there, lass. You’re just fightin’ beside an Irishman on a good day!” Frost laughed back as the air cleared, revealing a retreating group of soldiers. The scanner in his vacsuit mapped the way ahead, indicating that there was a broad elevator column. “I’d wager your trunk line’s right there, Jason.”
“Yup. Move up! First fire team get across the… bridge!”
When most of the troops had crossed and they set up several portable energy shields as cover Frost took Mark’s place in the last remaining encounter suit. “Kind of ya, lad. Don’t get yourself killed out there,” Frost said as the chest piece closed and he watched the Lieutennant, who was one of the night commanders of the Gunnery Deck normally, take a spare rifle from one of the rear soldiers. Frost knew that most of the people in the unit were painfully aware that he was the slowest among them. In the suit he was fine, and he was one of the best power suit pilots there, but outside of a loader or encounter suit, he’d hold them all back.
After he hovered across the gap he took the lead, and it was no surprise to him when several grenades came bouncing into the mouth of the hallway. He was well ahead of the rest of the unit, so he let the energy shielding take the hit. When they had all gone off the shielding was down to forty two percent. “Nothin’. These grunts just aren’t ready,” he said as he marched ahead. As soon as he came to the end of the hall he sighted several soldiers and opened fire. They had erected emergency barriers that gave them waist high cover, but none of it lasted long against the saw blade like shots from his main particle weapon.
“Teams one and two! Move up!” Jason called from the rear.
Frosts eyes went wide as he caught sight of several soldiers brandishing a weapon he hadn’t seen since his own time in the military. Expensive, dangerous, and difficult to handle, arc cannons were a brutal, last ditch infantry weapon. They required an exoskeleton to carry, an extreme environment protection suit to fire, and to anyone looking from a great distance it looked like the soldier was firing a thick lightening bolt, but a good arc cannon could strike its target with a thirty thousand degree focused shot.
“Back off!” Frost shouted as he opened fire at the armoured units coming out from the left hand hallway, forcing them back. He was just about to open fire on the right hand hallway when his suit alerted him to being struck with an electrical charge. It was the precursor to being struck with a plasma jet, and every alarm went off in the next moment. His shields were down to three percent, the ablaitive armour on his right hand side was gone, and one of his secondary particle guns had been destroyed. It was like being struck by lightening, and the only working on board computer was the connection he had to the left hand visual sensors.
He blindly opened fire with the last remaining particle cannon on his arm while maintaining fire with his left. “Rush left! Take out that cover, now!” he shouted as he tried to step back into the hall and shunted all the suit’s power to shields.
Another strike hit him and his world shook so hard the inertial dampeners in his vacsuit had to compensate. The right arm on his suit had been destroyed, and the shoulder reported that it had been cracked open by an ammunition explosion. The ship to ship micro rockets there had overheated and gone off. “You want ta play? Chew on this, whoreson!” he flung the left leg towards the hallway and activated the nearly overheated rocket back in the left shoulder of his suit, sending twenty eight ship to ship shape charged projectiles off.
When Frost came to he was lying beside the elevator column, his ears were still ringing. With a quick look around he could see that the suit he was piloting was lying on its face, they had to use the emergency hatch to extract him from the machine. The entire right side had taken critical damage from explosions, melting and plasma cutting. Evidence of serious explosive damage filled the right side of the large foot traffic hub, and signs of a firefight to the left told the rest of the story.