Three Years Later
Worm, now designated as Cadet 120692, C-92 for short, held his breath in anticipation. He was about to begin his first mission in the field. No more drills or practice missions, this was the real deal. He was to pilot the drop ship to the target, having long since learned how to pilot any craft through the advanced virtual training programs. He would land three clicks from the target, an abandoned military base rebels had taken over. He was to wait with the ship as his squadron engaged the rebels, there to provide security for the ship with his copilot. They would defend the ship from any rebel attacks, keeping the extraction point clear for the return to base.
C-92 checked his combat suit, rifle, and pack to make sure it was squared away for the op launch. He went to the drop ship and proceeded to check the craft and load his gear up. After stowing his gear in the cockpit, he stepped outside to attend the briefing. His squadron comprised of the twelve best cadets, along with the two best pilots in training. He took a look at his copilot, another boy his age from a different barracks. Though he was sure of his own capabilities if fighting was required, the boy was slim and weak looking. Smaller than the other boys at the briefing, he none the less held himself with confidence and had a determined look in his eye. The briefing ended and the cadets broke to gather their equipment. C-92 headed to the drop ship to put on his combat suit and do the preflight checks. He noticed the boy that was to be his copilot doing the same. They met at the ramp and proceeded to the cockpit. They both changed in silence, each keeping their own space to themselves. Afterwards they began the preflight checks, only speaking to confirm the systems where all green and ready for launch. The other boy’s voice was pitched slightly higher than his own.
The other cadets filed into the hold of the drop ship, followed by Commander Strongarm. Strongarm would oversee the op, though he would not provide assistance in any form or fashion. C-92 started the engines and closed the rear hatch as his copilot powered the shields up and armed the forward weapons. C-92 took the controls and engaged the thrusters, lifting the drop ship off the launch pad. Easing the throttle forward, they took off and accelerated smoothly to the ships top atmosphere speed. They headed northwest to the target, reaching it in just over an hour. C-92 throttled down, bringing the ship to rest on the designated landing zone. They set the ship to standby and lowered the hatch for the rest of the cadets and Commander Strongarm to offload. C-92 grabbed his rifle and him and his copilot stepped to the outside of the ship. They took up position on either side of the ship, prepared to give cover fire if need be. The squad marched off, headed to their destination. A tense hour passed before C-92 heard gunshots in the distance, signaling that the confrontation had started between the cadets and the rebels. Minutes later he and his copilot heard the unmistakable sound of a transport sled speeding towards them.
C-92 tightened his grip on his rifle, waiting on the sled to break into view. Suddenly the sled burst into view over the top of a nearby hill. The sled stopped less than one hundred meters from them. Six men jumped off the sled, raising rifles and firing on their position. C-92 dived to the side, a spray of bullets hitting where he had just been standing. He rolled to his feet, bring his rifle to bear and firing two quick bursts of fire, hitting two men. One went down with half his head missing, the other with a fist sized hole in his chest. The other boy shot his own burst of controlled fire, hitting the third man in his left shoulder. The man was spun around by the impact, causing him to spray one of his remaining companions and the sled with uncontrolled fire. Both men went down and the sled started to belch smoke as the engine burnt up from the damage it had taken. Of the two remaining men, one dropped to his knee to take up a proper firing position, and the other threw himself behind the damaged sled. The kneeling man fired several shots, and C-92 heard the other boy cry out as he was hit. Thinking quickly, C-92 took careful aim at the sled. He switched to incendiary ammo and shot where he thought the fuel was held on the sled. He got lucky, hitting the fuel tank and causing the sled to explode into white hot flames. The unfortunate man hiding behind the sled was killed instantly, and the kneeling man was torched by the flames. He died a painful death by burning. With the threat dealt with, C-92 took a look at the other boy’s injury. Rolling him over, C-92 grimaced at the wound in the boys stomach which was bleeding profusely. Running into the ship, C-92 grabbed the med kit by the open hatch and ran back to the boy. Opening the kit, C-92 disinfected the wound with antiseptic med spray. Then he filled the wound with biofoam to stop the bleeding and keep out any contaminates from entering the wound. He then slapped a pressure pad on it and bandaged the wound. It wasn’t pretty but it would hold long enough to get back to base. He gave the boy some of the weak pain killers and helped him back onboard the ship. C-92 checked his com link and heard that the mission was successful and the other cadets were making their way back on a commandeered sled. After C-92 started the ship up for extraction, he waited for several tense minutes until he spotted his squad on the sled headed his way. In short order, the cadets and the Commander where on board and they were off. On the way back to the base, C-92 gave his report to the Commander. He found out from the Commander that including his copilot, there had been two injuries, and one death. Other than the gunshot wound, there was a broken wrist gained from a slip and fall. Within a short time, they were landing back at base. The two injured cadets were escorted to the infirmary for treatment and C-92 and the leader of the squadron followed the Commander to his office to submit their final reports.
