Chapter 51: Flight to Fight

"Okay, marines!"

Sergeant Samuel Shan was shouting, his voice blaring over the speakers built into the Hunter war walkers, drowning out the roar of the aircraft's engines as the transport shuddered from the violent turbulence. The Hunters themselves were secured tightly to tray-like contraptions that hung above the doors beneath.

The NC130 Whale was designed to transport war walkers like Titans and Hunters, but it also served as a dropship, with the floor having the ability to open up. Theoretically, the Titans and Hunters would then be released and allowed to plummet to the earth below, our jet engines flaring up at the last moment to slow our fall and prevent us from slamming into the ground with a massive splat.

I say theoretically because this was the first time we were deploying in the NC130 Whale. We did try it out in training and field exercises, but anything could go wrong in an actual mission. I couldn't help but feel nervous, but the fact that no one was shooting at the large transport meant that everything was proceeding smoothly so far.

"Make sure you're strapped in tightly! I don't want to hear about any injuries when we land! Once we land, we will move into the forest immediately! So don't you dare get left behind, or I'll personally kick the ass of the idiot who is still stumbling about! We'll be going in quick and hit the guerilla insurgents before they know what's going on! Is that understood?"

Choruses of "Yes, sarge!" echoed throughout the confines of the transport, the combined voices streaming from the speakers as one.

While the soldiers readied myself, I received a call from Samuel Shan on a private channel.

"Look, sir, I know you created these suits and trained my men how to use these, but you're technically not a combatant. I hate to be blunt, but you will get in the way of the mission. My orders are to protect you – so please don't charge in like a hero and make my job more difficult than it already is. If you could stay back and avoid the enemy's line of fire, that would be good."

"I will do my best," I replied. I wasn't offended. The sergeant had a point. If I was in his position, I would be feeling similarly. Having some random civilian tagging along in a military mission was an additional burden they couldn't afford, especially when they had to risk their lives to protect me as well. This wasn't exactly an escort mission, but they couldn't afford to let me out of their sight. I was too valuable an asset to lose in battle.

However, I had my own objectives, which was to analyze how the Hunter performed in this field test and record any design flaws. Not to mention, I was essentially serving as their combat engineer in the field. It would be my job to repair and salvage whatever Hunters that were downed by the enemy. Hopefully no one would die during this mission.

I couldn't help but feel extremely nervous. This was the very first time that the Hunter was deployed in real combat. Not simulated combat, not some training exercise, but real fighting with live-fire rounds and the very real possibility of people dying out here. There was no supervisor, no officers to cease the mission and stop the shooting when everything went south. I could only hope that the shield generators would hold up in these conditions and protect the pilots from whatever the guerrilla insurgents fired at us.

"Thirty seconds to deployment zone!" The pilot of the Whale shouted from the cockpit. "Get ready, marines!"

"Oo-rah!"

"Semper fi!"

I didn't know why, but the soldiers in the mechanized armored battalions thought of themselves as marines. Chinese Marines or the Chinese Marine Corps, apparently, but they nicknamed themselves Mechanized Marines. Probably because of the double M, which made it easier to remember (though I had to wonder why didn't they just go for Mechanized Military – that might be a bit too broad)? Well, it didn't really matter to me. As long as they were happy, they could call themselves whatever they wanted.

Right now, I was more interested in checking the systems and ensuring that everything was fine. I swallowed and flicked a few switches.

This was it. This was essentially a baptism of fire. Only through here would I find out whether my Hunters could be used in practical combat or not. Success or failure hinged entirely on the performance of my newly designed Hunters. If everything went well, the military would order more shipments of Hunters and the prestige of Shen Industries would increase tremendously.

If not…then the reputation of Shen Industries would be ruined, we would essentially lose a lot of money and probably even get sued. I doubted that, though – the contract protected me from such things. Everyone knew the limits of research and development. These were all prototypes, and anything could happen on the battlefield. Engineers and technicians were always going to find problems that they never imagined existed while within their laboratory or a controlled environment.

"Destination reached! On my mark, we'll be opening the launch bays! Good hunting, marines!"

Even the pilot of the transport thought of us as marines. They were really buying this marine idea, which was pretty contagious. Honestly, I thought of us more as an armored division than an elite fighting force aboard ships who conducted both naval warfare and shore combat. But whatever.

With a loud clank, the bays beneath our Hunters swung open, revealing the ground about ten thousand feet below. Using the amplified visual sensors of our Hunters – I had installed a variety of sensory arrays within the armor – we could magnify the image and see verdant forests. Thick clusters of trees hid the guerilla insurgents from satellite mapping, and vast carpets of green grass and foliage spread for hundreds of square miles.

The rebels could be anywhere. It was our job to find them.

"Mark! Launch away!"

The higher-ups had chosen a relatively open clearing as our landing spot. There was another loud clank and the harnesses released their grip. My Hunter jerked and then my war walker fell, plummeting toward the earth below. One by one, the Hunters were all released and sent spiraling downward.

Glancing around, I saw through my holographic displays descending Hunters. Gravitational forces buffeted me and I jerked about in my suit. I wished I had installed inertial dampeners, but I guess that was a technology I had to come up with another day.

Gritting my teeth, I gripped the gear stick and controls, doing my best to calm my racing pulse. My Hunter continued to plummet, the ground rushing up to meet me. Over the speakers, I heard whoops and cheerful yells as the marines stared death in the face, only to grow more excited.

"Okay, marines!" Sergeant Samuel Shan shouted, his gruff voice drowning out the camaraderie. "On my mark, activate the boosters! I don't want any of you to go splat on the ground! If you waste my time by forcing me to write a report on how I lost an idiot who fired up his jet engines too late right before the actual mission begins, I'll make sure to kick your ass in hell when I see you there!"

"Oo-rah, sergeant!"

"No one's that stupid!"

"I hope not," Samuel muttered darkly. "But what I've seen in training says otherwise."

The sergeant was being unnecessarily hard on his men. I had participated in many of the training exercises and I knew how competent the pilots chosen for this program were. Sure, there were mistakes here and there, especially at the beginning when none of them were familiar with piloting a war walker. But after a week or two, the moment they got the hang of it, the 1st platoon of the 2nd Mechanized Armored Battalion were drilled into a well-oiled unit.

"Mark! Activate your jet engines now!"

At Samuel's orders, we pressed a red button by the side of the console. Incandescent orange flames flared out of the jet engines built into the back of the Hunter, slowing our descent. Defying gravity for a bit, the Hunters slowly drifted onto the ground. Despite the installation of the jet engines, they weren't powerful enough to allow actual flight – otherwise I would have gone with the original name and christened them Falcons instead. But they allowed momentary bursts, the nimble war walkers jumping high above obstacles if necessary.

They also helped to slow the fall from a drop like this.

Despite Samuel's grave humor, none of the soldiers died to a crash. Everything was working fine, and the Hunters landed safely. The sergeant barked another order and the war walkers quickly strode into formation, forming a staggered line that covered all directions and flanks. I stayed near the back, as directed, knowing the sergeant would lose his shit if I defied him.

"All right! Sound off!"

There was actually no need for a roll call because Samuel could clearly see the statuses and visuals of all the Hunters in his platoon on a holographic screen in his cockpit, overlaid over the armored glass. I guess he only did it as a force of habit, and it was possible that there was a glitch in the computer system. Humans were usually more reliable than machines.

"Ang, here!"

"Bo, here!"

"Chang, here!"

This went on until all twenty soldiers sounded off. I added my voice into the mix, probably to assure the sergeant that I didn't accidentally get myself killed. Shan paused for a moment, and then he issued another order.

"All right, you know the drill! Let's move! Our mission is to get inside the forest, locate the insurgents, and then flush them out! Let's not waste any time! I don't want to spend a second more in this heaven forsaken land than I have to! Now move, people!"

The soldiers immediately had their Hunters lope toward the forest. I scanned the interior of the woods with the sensors installed within my machine, but didn't pick anything out.

That didn't mean anything, though. I was sure that the enemy had spotted us. There was no way they wouldn't have seen over twenty metallic machines descending from the skies.

Inevitably, they would send someone to investigate…and then we would engage in real combat for the very first time.