Fleet Colonel Martin Stevens was ready. He'd trained his whole life for combat. He'd learned to grasp a tactical advantage and not relinquish it without finding a better one. Attack fast, subdue the enemy, accomplish the objective, file the proper reports. This was his life. This was his whole purpose for living.
He wouldn't have traded it for anything.
As he advanced through the darkness towards the brightly lit crater, his men followed in assault formation behind him. On his left, Specialist McComb (who Stevens had ordered on the jump in spite of the fact that the Information Corps traditionally had very little to do with the kind of mud and blood operation this was bound to be) followed in absolute silence, his eyes dimly lit by the night vision settings on his terminal.
"Sir, Oxygen content is acceptable, though there are extremely high concentrations of chemical pollutants in the atmosphere," McComb announced over the secure channel.
"Will it effect how our weapons fire?"
"Probably not, sir," McComb replied, "But I wouldn't open the hatch without holding my nose."
"Anything else," Stevens hadn't planned on cracking a window either way and he wanted some information he could put to decisive tactical advantage.
"Yes, sir," McComb continued, "There are several hundred human life forms concentrated around the target site."
"Several hundred? Armed?" Stevens paused, immediately considering the possibility that he was marching his troops into a trap. But how would the natives even know they were coming?
"I see some weapon-like energy signatures, but nothing capable of piercing armor. I also just saw a massive power discharge spike. I'm starting to suspect the readings are being impeded by some interference. This spike made the one's we saw from upstairs look like a flat line," McComb waved a hand in front of himself and dismissed the virtual keyboard. He did not have time for technical glitches.
"Could it just be our proximity somehow?" Stevens needed to know. The lives of his troops and, more importantly, the progress of his career, could depend on an accurate assessment of the field of battle.
"I can't be certain, sir," McComb apologized, "It overwhelmed my meters and was gone almost immediately. I couldn't get anything definite on a source or even energy type."
Stevens halted, throwing up an arm to stop the advance of the men in his wake. He cleared his throat and opened his command channel.
"Men," Stevens began, "I've detected some odd power readings from the target site. I have no way to know what they mean, but we move forward under the assumption that the secrecy of our mission has been compromised. As such, I will begin the negotiations as bluntly as possible. If I am fired upon, you may return fire."
Before switching off the channel he added, "And I don't really care how selective you are about enemy targets. It doesn't matter to the Earth Prime Protection Force and it doesn't matter to me. Stevens out."
Chapter Twenty One Interlude
File: Datanet Core Server Kappa Delta One Hundred and One, Galactic Military Protocol, Era: Modern -0, Operating Procedures, Index Earth Prime Protection Force, Data source EPPF Handbook
Earth Prime Protection Force officers are empowered with the rights to use the full force supplied by their issued weaponry to achieve their objectives and secure the peace of the Faithful citizens of the Benevolent States United. Towards these ends, all combat troops are prepared for battle using standard gear.
Additional trooper modified enhancements have, at times, been employed, but officers and enlisted men are instructed to use whatever advantages they can to improve the standard of security for the Faithful. Collateral damage is to be expected from time to time, but generally Earth Prime Protection Force troops are known for their discretion, mercy and honor. Interviews with survivors of BSU conflicts are often published by the Benevolent States United Press Office. 100% mention the efficiency and reverence for life demonstrated by our Faithful troops.
Specialist McComb crouched in the dirt in the shadow cast by the rim of the crater. The natives had rigged up a primitive address system for some reason, and McComb had jacked in and turned the frequency over to Fleet Colonel Stevens.
Stevens stepped over the rim of the crater and into the bright lights.
The locals on the other side of the pit noticed him first, and their cries and gestures alerted those nearest to him, but facing away, of his silent approach.
With the exception of McComb, who had taken up a support position behind Stevens in the dark, the other Earth Prime Protection troops had surrounded the crater. Even now, they were moving into positions in the lighted exit pathways, blocking the path of anyone frightened or insane enough to make a break for it.
Stevens took in the scene before him. As he'd expected, the residents of EcoHope 11 nearest him appeared barely sentient. They work plain cloth garments and obviously hadn't ever seen the inside of a nanite shower. Even without the pollutants he'd been told about, he'd be damned before he opened the hatch around these animals.
Down in the floor of the crater, a large, primitive robot, glowing blue about the joints, stood over the remains of another robot. Obviously there had been a recent change of power here, as well.
His plan began to change as he processed this information.
"Residents of EcoHope 11," He intoned over the loudspeaker that had previously announced the beginning and end of the rounds just a few moments ago, "On authority of the Benevolent States United, I order you to supply us with two tons of the material Be-Esunium. Fortunately for you, you can scrape up that much in the dirt at your feet, according to our analysis.
"If you do not comply, I will kill your leader first," he gestured at Junior, "and then everyone else in this crater. I suggest you start digging."
The Beater fans met this proclaimation with confusion. Benevolent States United? Be-Esunium? Leader?
There was no scramble to activity as Stevens had expected. Instead, a ball of mud struck the canopy of his mechanized defense suit. As the automatic vision correction systems cleaned it off, he knew he'd need to take action to ensure there was no delay.
He obviously needed to get their attention.
Stevens selected a point in the crowd almost at random and opened fire, cutting a swath through half a dozen locals and eliciting screams from the rest.
Then, he pointed his devastating weapon systems down at the blue-tinged battle suit below.
