Eric Olafson, Midshipman 80

Part 80: THE REAGAN TROPHY

After the rest period, we gathered once again in that large assembly hall without chairs. This time however I notice only about two hundred cadets.

We went through the same motions. Standing in attention as the Admiral of the Fleet, the other Academy Commandants and Dent and his associates moved onto the platform and gathered by the lectern at its center. We sang the hymn again and after all this was done, Admiral McElligott stepped up, looked down to see if anything was obstructing his legs, then placed his hands on the lectern and said. “Good morning everyone. It is a splendid day, the weather is marvelous and before me the cream of the crop, the remaining ninety nine Cadets that past the intensive tests and evaluations of the past days. Your comrades and colleagues that are no longer here have just barely missed the final hurdle and I am as proud and impressed as one can be to have witnessed such excellence, skills and devotion. You and all the others are the hallmark, the pinnacle of what our so different civilizations combined under one goal can accomplish.

The eleven teams that remain will now face the final challenge. I have not the slightest doubt you all will complete it and it will be a close call to determine the final team that will take the trophy home.”

McElligott motioned with his hand and Admiral Stokes, the Ult and Commandant of Arsenal II used a small remote and a large field screen established itself behind them and above the platform. The Ult said. “To show you all just how well you did and to visualize for you how close the scores were in some cases we are displaying your score tally now.”

I had watched Dent and it appeared he had not been informed of this and he did not approve. “Is that really necessary? They know they made it to the final challenge, Admiral Stokes?”

The scores however already became visible. I knew it was not very professional and perhaps childish but I could not stop the grin that crept on my face as I saw my team on top.

Har-Hi nudged me and he too was grinning and whispered. “I call this a fair margin, over 2000 points to the runner up.”

Wetmouth who flanked me on the other side said in a quiet tone. “The Newport team has made it by one point and are on the very bottom of the list. So much for that Elite schools unbiased results.”

It was true; the Newport team was listed as the bottom with just one score point above the ones that didn’t make it.

Dent replaced Mc Elligott behind the lectern, but without his stepping stool, all he could do was peak over the thing. He barley contained the anger that colored his voice as he thanked the Admiral of the Fleet and Stokes.

Then he addressed us. “Let us get to the business at hand. In this year’s challenge you will orbital jump to the surface of Dover II which represents a simulated hostile planet. Each team must destroy a Sensor base, make contact with the local sentient life form and show their first contact skills. If successfully establishing contact, the tribal leader will give information how to find a hidden D 12 shuttle. Whichever team returns to Dover first and rings the academy bell wins!.” His displeasure and anger had evaporated and he appeared very pleased with himself.

Har-Hi put my observation in words as he said to me. “I can’t shake the feeling. He somehow managed to stack the deck to his favor after all.”

“I was thinking the same, but what can he do? With the Admiral there and all the others watching?”

Hans rubbed his big hands. “I love it; it sounds like a nice challenge. They pulled all stops on this one. You know Orbital Jumps mean we get Quasimodo Suits issued.”

I could not share his enthusiasm. I remembered all too clearly my first jump from Daniel Station and the fear I felt doing it, this time it was not just me who would fail if I messed this up, but I would let down my team. I had to get over that feeling of fear that already started to rise from the bottom of my stomach.

We boarded a Marine Drop ship an hour later. The lumbering giant was hovering only a few meters above the grass near the landing field. It was an older model most likely used for training purposes only and its crew did not consist of marines, but Navy Instructors.

Once aboard they did issue us fully equipped Main Battle Suits. These, almost six ton suits were known as Quasimodos due to their humpback shaped appearance. The hump contained the main weapon, six long range multi warhead missiles and the Mini ISAH pack that allowed the space battle version to go superluminal. Even more than Union Battleships these behemoths of the latest Union and Terran Mil Tech symbolized Union fighting power especially in the eyes of our enemies. The shields powerful enough to survive a dive into the corona of a star, the armor nearly indestructible molecular compacted, lattice woven Ultronit and each strain coated in a atomic thin layer of Neutronium, the main reason for the suits great weight. Yet a wearer could move as fast and agile as if wearing nothing. The synthetic muscles augmented the strength of its wearer to truly superhuman levels. With a Quasimodo it was possible to jump clear across a five story building, even without using its flight capabilities. Finest X101 computronics enhanced reaction and agility while regulating the power. A trained Marine could pick up a raw egg without breaking it and then crush a lump of granite to dust. None of us, with the exception of Hans perhaps had this level of control of course.

All our weapons were in training mode, otherwise we would have laid waste to the target world, simulated or not.

Seeing Krabbel in his version of a Quasimodo after he came out the specialized Battle Dresser was perhaps the most impressive and perhaps frightening sight. Each of his four upper arms carried a FTL Forced Energy cannon and extendable mono blades.

Har Hi and Hans could not stop praising the suits and acted like children with their favorite toys.

Mao walked in it like second nature. Shaka was obviously not as used or comfortable but he managed.

Cirruit had a specialized engineering version; it was not as heavily armed but had a wide variety of engineering tools and an impressive load of demolition equipment. With his suit he could repair another Quasimodo or a Battle tank, remove obstacles, dig trenches, destroy enemy bunkers and clear mines just to name a few of its capabilities.

Elfi’s suit was a recon model, lighter and faster than the regular main battle suit. It could operate completely silent had several cloaking and camouflage options. She had a wide range of communication choices and specialized equipment to jam, disrupt and neutralize enemy communications.

Even though there was a Science model available, Wetmouth decided on a regular battle suit. However since we had a choice Hans opted for the heaviest model the Artillery Unit. When he wanted to engage the main weapon, he had to deploy outriggers and become stationary. The power of his gun however was enough to bring down anything up to escort class space ship or tackle regiments of enemy robots and troops at once.

Har-Hi true to his nature selected the Aerial assault version, with superior flight capabilities both in atmospheres and deep space. It was basically a miniature fighter jet that could also walk and fight on the ground.

I had no problems with Quasimodos as long as I didn’t have to use one in space and I too selected the Main Battle version, but with the command module, giving me advanced tactical and strategic options such as seeing what my team mates saw, checking on their suit and health status and so forth.

I tried to concentrate on little things and not to think too much about the orbital jump ahead.

It did not take long for the Drop ship to reach the second planet in the local system and each of us was fitted into the drop rack. Almost like the security bars of an amusement ride heavy tubes lowered and pulled us snug into the rack.

Har Hi gave me thumbs up before he was pulled inside, he knew of my fear of deep space.

A voice told us we were only three minutes from our orbital drop zone.

Red lights rotated and a horn blared, the drop rack I was in moved and shoved me down into the ejection tube. The tube sealed with an audible hiss. It was completely dark. My suit systems should have come on now. I had checked them, but nothing happened even after I pressed my chin against the emergency start up contact. Not even my HUD came on. The suit was completely immobile, not just because of the launch rack, but without energy I could not so much as lift a finger. I was inside a rigid coffin.

I never felt more helpless in my life. Then I heard the auto-doc unit move and felt a sharp prick in my neck. Nausea reached my throat and then there was nothing.

Part 81 »