Naero's War: The Citation Series 2: The High Crusade Read Free Page A

Platoon, Squad 1 Marines.
    Then she called out across the dropship bay, “Sergeant Vaughn, any further word on when our new MCL will be joining us? Has there been some kind of delay? Why do I not see her with us on this op? Do we even know our MCL’s name or any deets on her or his abilities, yet? Tell me something I want to hear, Vaughn!”
    Vaughn saluted; Wilde shot it right back. “Negative, sir. I’ve been up the chain a few times with HQ; as yet, they have no further info for us on that issue. Our MCL status is still pending, and could be sent to join up with us at any time.”
    “Keep me informed and updated, Sergeant. Listen up, 2 nd Platoon. Suit and weapons check, complete in two. Slap and tap and look your jump buddy over with genuine love. We’re going into the heat, and we go in heavy and silent, but ready to burn. Each of you hotcheck your Intel fixers and direct your feed links into the combat grid. Command and HQ wants us to slide in quiet and paint and confirm all enemy elements in our combat sector for overlapping, indirect light up firing profiles for our unit CPA.
    “Do you hear me, Marines?”
    “Yes, sir!” they shouted eagerly, performing their prep tasks.
    “As I have stated, stealth is essential to the tactical success of our coordinated mission. And as you well know, we will not engage the enemy in any way, for any reason, until our unit Coordinated Plan of Attack is in full effect and green to go. Then and only then will you engage, put fire on our new invader friends, and turned their furry asses to burning shit beneath our boots. I say again, until our CPA gives the order to attack, we will maintain and perform our roles as forward observers, and I mean like ghosts, people! Is that clear?”
    “Yes, sir!”
    “Just like fucking ghosts, Bravo! Prepare for battle, Marines. Take the fight to the bloody bitches in the black, and drop it on them hard and hot. Ooh-rah!”
    “Ooh-rah!” 200 Spacer Marines echoed.
    Wilde and Fay finished their battle checks.
    Miranda-Naero did her checks with Trevor Lakota, who had his rig war-painted Native Clan style, including holographic feathers.
    “Nice war paint spolymer,” she told him.
    Lakota grinned. “Very interesting, Allen. You’ve rigged your suit in a custom shadow ghost mode I haven’t seen before. Most of us just use black wraith because it’s so simple and reliable for up-close combat. You really prefer your rig this way?”
    He called her Allen, not rook or newb. She appreciated that. “It has the same non-detection profiles as black wraith, but it’s better against the Ejjai sense of smell, and conserves juice eleven percent better, and cuts down on shielding scan echoes.”
    Miranda-Naero drew two wicked-looking combat blades and spun them. “Plus, as long as I don’t use any energy weapons, I can still slice and dice with my blades with a very low chance of detection.”
    Lakota raised an eyebrow, his suit bristling with various blades, much like her own. “You’re good with blades. I can tell. I see you have a Clan Apache fighting knife among yours. I won’t ask how you got that.”
    She smiled. “It was a gift.”
    He nodded to her. “Then we must fight one day, when there is time. The old way. No practice blades. My iron against yours.”
    Miranda-Naero met his gaze and sheathed her blades. “I’d like that.”
    He really smiled this time, raising his eyebrows. “I will, too. That’s a very specialized customization for a rook, Allen. Fight well beside us today.”
    “Thanks. Fortune favors the bold.” He sounded a little suspicious of her, but she had a ready answer. “My brothers and most of my family served with the Niners during the Annexation War. They all suggested I rig my suit this way. It got me through my night-fighting school training to qualify me for Bravo, so I guess I’ll stick with it.”
    Lakota nodded. “You’re green to go, Allen. Stick close with us. You’ll do all right. Whatever else