Koban: The Mark of Koban (23 page)

The Krall landed and rolled towards the truck’s rear, where Griswold,
Slade, Trevor, and Dill had no shot, and Ackerfem lay wounded. A shot rang out and
Ackerfem’s icon went red. Everyone in the squad could see the icons.

The damned alien had taken out three squad members best
positioned to fire at him as he jumped into the street, and rolled behind the
truck as the best cover from most of the other shooters.

DiGeronimo had the only clear shot, and he had hesitated as
the Krall rolled next to his now dead squad mate. DiGeronimo resumed firing, but
ducked back as explosive rounds exploded on the wall next to him and one round glanced
off his breastplate.

Griswold thought Slade was hit when he suddenly fell to his right
side, but instead he fired his 50KK’s under the truck at the Krall’s feet. At
least one struck home, and others exploded in close proximity. The Krall roared
its pain and anger, the sound fed to them through the external speakers.
DiGeronimo must have hit it a time or two as well from the other side, and it
rolled back to the street side of the truck’s rear wheels for added cover.

The Krall fired under the truck as it moved, and Slade’s icon
went amber. The man wasn’t hit so bad he couldn’t move, because he crawled
around to the left front wheel for more cover.

Griswold signaled Trevor to move out with him, and he
started to move towards the center of the street to have a clear shot at the
alien down the side of the truck. He intended to pin the Krall down with triple
fire from himself, Trevor, and DiGeronimo to the rear. Dill, and
possibly
Slade, could cover the walkway side of the truck if the Krall tried to go back
around that way. Only it did something else entirely.

With its right foot missing, it still managed to leap up and
grasp the top edge of the truck and pulled itself on top. Gomez was still alive
up there!

Griswold screamed, knowing the suit AI would broadcast his
warning. “Squad, it’s on top!” He dove into the street on his back, firing up
at the Krall, seeing only its left shoulder for a target. His clip was empty
after four rounds, and he fired his wrist pistol by bending his right hand down
and squeezing his thumb rapidly. The six KKs struck home or at least exploded near
enough, and they served to distract it from Gomez for the moment. The Krall
flinched down as it spun around to see where the shots came from. Griswold was still
inserting a fresh clip in his submachine gun when the Krall threw away an empty
and shoved a fresh clip in his pistol so fast that Griswold knew this was his
last view of the alien.

He was wrong.

As the Krall brought its weapon up in a blur, the front of
its face exploded out in a splash of gore, and it collapsed forward, sliding
limply down onto the cab of the truck. Griswold saw the back of its ruptured head
was just as attractive as the front. He realized a second platoon sniper had
made a kill shot just in time to save his slow sorry ass.

****

Borkdol was less than halfway back to her ship when she
heard the annoying high-pitched whine from the thrusters of two low flying
human shuttles. She first thought they were passing by its hiding place, but
they both turned back. One hovered high, as the other moved in low and slow,
with bright spotlights stabbing down into the quarry.

She briefly thought they had overlooked it, gray and
sheltered against a similar color rock wall, because they both pulled up and
moved back towards the city. She decided to get to her ship quickly and move to
a different location.

She was nearly back to the entrance when she noticed that
the two shuttles had turned around again, causing her to suspect they had
somehow seen her furtive movements. The four missile exhaust trails told her
the single ship was actually the target. She knew what was going to happen when
the anti-tamper device triggered. She raced back towards a low granite outcrop by
the roadway. She had used it for cover before, now it would have to serve as
shelter. She nearly made it before the blast slammed her into the rocks.

A Krall is tough, bleeding stops quickly, healing and
regeneration happens relatively quickly, and they can disconnect their mind
from most pain. However, broken limbs, such as both legs and both arms, several
ribs, and multiple deep bullet wounds
do
tend to weaken them a bit and
slow them down. Her remaining pistol was nowhere to be found, despite some
painful crawling around. All she had were her two skinning knives, ammunition
clips, utility belt, and a com set.

Calling the Clanship for recovery wasn’t a solution for her
problem. She mentally listed the negatives. She had lost her single ship, lost her
guns, was physically disabled by her enemy, had earned zero points, and would
face an unsympathetic raid leader. She was certainly dead if she called for
recovery, and the disgrace for her and her clan would be worse. When she heard
one of the human shuttles return and land, she saw armored humans spread out to
look around the quarry, and some cautiously moved down each side of the
roadway. The sky was growing light and she had no cover, and could only crawl
slowly.

The humans would capture her alive unless she did something,
and willing herself to die, stopping her two hearts, took time that she didn’t
have. Cutting her own throat, something she wasn’t sure she could manage anyway
with broken arms, might not be fatal because her circulatory system would cut
off the bleeding when she lost consciousness and quit sawing. She finally conceived
a workable solution. With difficulty and considerable pain, she managed to get
onto her knees by using a ledge and her shoulders for support. Positioning the
knives with difficulty, she threw herself forward towards the rocks, mouth
opened wide. The impact drove the two points through the roof of her mouth and
into her brain, an organ with no redundancy.

****

“Hank, your troops handled themselves well. They saved many
civilian lives this week, and taking down eight warriors is no small
accomplishment for the first meeting.” Governor Boldovic was trying to boost
Nabarone’s spirits, who had been morose for two days.

“Seven, my people killed seven. The dead Krall we found near
the Belgrade quarry took her own life.” He was a hard man to complement when he
didn’t feel very successful.

“Your shuttles destroyed the Krall’s single ship, and that
blast crippled her, she had no choice if she was to avoid death or capture by
your men.” By now, an autopsy had confirmed it was female Krall.

“That quarry worker gave her the bullet wounds and the
anti-tamper device provided the big bang that broke her.”

“Damn it Hank, we came off better than any planet has on a
similar raid, we lost hundreds, not thousands of lives to so few enemy. It was
the first real resistance they’ve met, and you will learn from what didn’t
work, and improve on what did.” If his pessimistic friend didn’t acknowledge
some gains, he’d toss his depressed ass out of his office.

Nabarone saved himself from the unceremonious ejection. “My
troops showed the Krall we have guts, and capability. I’m extremely proud of
them. Nevertheless, we seriously underestimated the value of concealing our
heat signatures from the Krall. Active camouflage for human vision isn’t
protection enough.

“Combat recording show they made accurate shots at troopers that
were virtually invisible to the camera, sometimes doing so while looking
elsewhere. They seem to have a mental picture of the surroundings before they
explode into action, and know exactly where they will shoot in advance, no need
to look again. Just watch that action in Belgrade. That warrior jumping through
the third floor window took out the three most dangerous positions to him
before he even hit the ground. A thirty-foot drop in .97 g’s without powered
armor.

“It then went to the best possible cover after that wild
leap, which blocked fire from four other squad members. They may not be
intellectual giants, but it doesn’t take a genius to see we have to perform
better on the battlefield. I lost seventy-three troops versus seven of theirs.
No, Mike, I’ll not accept credit for my people on the one at the quarry.
However,
you
should, indirectly at least. ” He looked smug now, which
was better than morose.

“Mind explaining that, and why you are trying to reverse my
congratulations for you into credit for me?” He couldn’t help chuckling.

“Easily explained. It was your Civil Defense measures.” He
held up his hand to hold off the Governor’s follow-up question, and pulled a
slip of paper out of his pocket for reference.

“In the person of Branko Berzinski, the blue collar
‘everyman’ that bought one of the guns the government offered, and prevented
that Krall from killing a single person. Funds from those gun sales paid for
one of the shuttles that blew the hell out of that same Krall’s single ship. So
there!
You
deal with success.” His grin was back, a good sign.

With a deep sigh, Boldovic made a partial concession. “You
didn’t know this Hank, but there is an award presentation for Mr. Berzinski
this Saturday, in Belgrade. His fiancé, whom he saved, will be present, and his
story will make him the poster boy for arming our citizens.

“Initially, his home pillbox idea sounded like a militia nut
going overboard, but he’d be dead without that. Civil Defense intends to offer
plans, possibly kits, for constructing a variety of low cost home defenses.

“I learned today that Mr. Berzinski was offered a position
in the office of Belsouth Quarries, designing and selling other granite block
versions of his pillbox. With widely spaced raids and so few attackers in each,
those may seem excessive. However, we know that as military forces like yours
improve and expand, that the Krall will match us, or even raise the ante. What
are you planning to do to address the problems you found?”

Nabarone considered the question a moment.

“I can break it down into local resolution and Hub
resolution items.”

“Locally we need to revise our tactical thinking on what
constitutes having a Krall ‘trapped’ since they so frequently broke out of
them. We also want to find ways to draw them into a firefight that looks more
favorable to them than it appears.

“They have a huge ego, and if we can learn how to ‘hurt’
that, knock a chip off their shoulder so to speak, they seem to make brash
attacks. We have to conceal our IR signatures better. That will be a HUB item
in the end, by the way. We need to program some suit AI control of our weapons
firing, because we waste too many rounds that are not on target. The Krall
manage with semiautomatic pistols against submachine guns because they are
their own high speed fire control system.”

“One of the toughest things we’ll need to instill in our troops
is that they have to be more ready to risk collateral damage to friendlies when
they have a shot at a Krall. Multiple times my soldiers held fire briefly, when
a warrior moved in on fellow squad members. None of those troops survived the
meetings anyway. AI control of weapons fire may help there, and prevent
friendly fire incidents. We’ll see.”

Nabarone shrugged now, when he shifted to the second list of
items.

“Our armor is proof only against fragments from exploding
shells or glancing hits from the armor piercing shells. Those last mentioned
rounds have a near diamond hard sharp tip that gets through too easily. I
already described the suit’s IR signature problem. The Hub military needs to
put some money into redesign of personal armor, but my recommendations have not
met with favorable responses.”

“No reasons given?”

“Not directly. It sounds more as if the Hub wants to spend
money first where it will do the most good. I’d accept that, except I hear
hints of big new ship building projects, and I don’t quite see how more ships
can keep the Krall off our backs on planets. There may be some breakthroughs. I
know they were happy to get that single ship we pulled off the roof in Belgrade,
and they got one from Bollovstic.  I’m sure the returning Krall ‘mother ship’
would have blasted it if we hadn’t hidden it underground.

“That mother ship did a White Out only two hundred miles
out, already in stealth mode, and spit out thirty two single ships in under
thirty minutes. How can the Navy block landings like that? Not a single Navy
ship has been lost on these attacks, or even been involved, and we’ve lost one
planet and over eighteen million people on the ground, none in space.”

“Hank, I’ll pass those larger concerns on as if they’re
mine, through political channels to the Hub. I know you and every Planetary
Defense commander want the same things. It’s tough for everyone.”

“Well, it isn’t as tough today as yesterday. At least I’m
not flinching as often.”

Dillon was referring to the dual signals his brain was
receiving from the two independent nervous systems he now had. One, his normal
neural pathway, was primary and operational but slower than the new secondary parallel
organic superconducting nerves. Those would deliver “early warnings” to his
brain that he could not act on, except via the slower pathways.

Maggi, sharing the breakfast table with him and Thad, was
present in part to observe how well the two men were adjusting to the first
stages of Koban gene mods. Another part was to have fun at their expense.

She observed, cheerfully but unhelpfully, “I find it
entertaining to watch you flail like morons at a fly that has already departed
your nose. Of course, I need a rain parka to keep Dillon’s cereal off my clothes
if a rat crosses the table.”

She chuckled, reminding Dillon of the embarrassing event of yesterday
morning, when a Koban rat dashed across the table like a little blue streak,
targeting rhinolo bacon on Noreen’s plate. Dillon had smacked his hand down where
his enhanced senses predicted it would be. However, his muscle reaction was too
late, and he overcompensated by swiping his hand sideways to smack at the
annoying pest. His supplement laden cereal bowl had gone flying, coating Noreen
with the goo.