From: kerry@pinn.nacjack.gen.nz (Kerry Hart)
Subject: CT05 (part 1)
Date: Fri, 30 Dec 94 00:21:16 +1200

  This is my first attempt at anything like this. Any comments are
  welcome. Enjoy!



  Copyright 1994 - Kerry Hart

                                 CT05                         (part 1)
                                 ----                         --------

  It was good to see the guys again. It had been a year since I left
  for exchange duty in Japan, and I was glad to be back home. Whilst
  in Japan I had managed to get my fourth dan grading, but I had been
  forced to give up my tournament fighting and retire into the more
  reserved position of instructor as cybernetics were not allowed in
  competition martial arts. My stretch in Tokyo had been cut short by
  the top brass. Something big was happening in Vegas and all CT05
  units had been called in to put together a team.

  The "CT" stood for "CyberTroop", the "05", our year of graduation.
  We were picked from the top 2 percent of the academy. The most
  physically, psychologically and mentally fit of all the advanced
  combat trainees. They chose us because we were the best, and then
  they made us better. Cybernetic enhancment had been around for some
  time now, but it had mostly been used on previously injured
  officers, who often suffered severe trauma because of the patchwork
  way their bodies ended up being put together. We were different to
  them. We were trained to accept the cybernetic additions to our
  already fit and healthy minds and bodies and to integrate the whole
  lot into one superior working unit.

  Of course it took a few months for us to get cybered up. Titanium
  alloy bone reinforcment, sub-dermal armour, hydralic assisted
  joints, sensory enhancment and of course CINCH (Cybernetic Implant
  Neurological Combat Hardware). CINCH ran the whole system and when
  you first got cyb'ed you sort of had to get to know CINCH like a new
  friend. Because CINCH ran all the sensory hardware, it could
  communicate via AV circuits all sorts of data unavailable to
  ordinary human senses. Things such as radar, GPS and spectroscopic
  analysis could all be viewed on HUD. CINCH also controlled
  biological systems via its chemical injection processor which
  altered hormone and other chemical levels as required to provide
  high performance with minimal emotional stress.

  "Hey Steve!"

  It was Cat, the 05s' net man. He was called Cat because his
  appearance in the net was that of a displacer beast; a huge six
  legged black cat with tentacles coming out of its' shoulders.

  "Cat! Where have you been? Your icon seemed to dissappear from the
  net months ago. I thought we'd lost you!" I said, surprised to see
  him.

  "Nah," he smiled back at me. "I got put on some Cyberlabs security
  work. Had to keep a low profile for a while. Restricted stuff, you
  know. Just as I was leaving I found a new targeting prog they've
  been working on for us. I managed to hack a copy if you wanna load
  it into CINCH and try it out."

  "I'll give it a miss for now," I said.

  This guy hadn't changed a bit. Still the same cowboy with no reguard
  for the system. It was a wonder he passed the psych tests. He
  probably hacked them too.

  "What's going on here anyway?"

  "No-one knows. Trent said the brief would be uploaded once we all
  get to base. Since you're the last to arrive, I guess it will be
  soon," he replied.

  The other guys were all here, talking amoungst themselves. I found
  Paul and flashed him a quick signal to follow me as I wandered over
  to the nearest terminal and started skimming through the schedules
  for the day. Our arrival wasn't mentioned anywhere on the main list.
  Nothing too surprising there.

  "Congratulations my friend!"

  It was Paul. Paul "Arm" Johnson. He had been my partner after
  graduation, until I'd been sent off to Japan for the exchange combat
  training program. They called him Arm because he was the only one
  out of the ten of us who had been given any sort of external
  hardware. A boosted right arm with an external mount for a 20mm
  smartgun. Most of us would rather not have had the extra wieght,
  but he loved his cannon and he was big enough to wield it with
  deceptive ease and speed.

  "Tough grading?" he asked, as the arm came slamming down across my
  shoulders.

  "Sure," I grunted. "You would have loved it. So what's the game
  here? I'd like to know what's so important that they have to fly
  us all in, cutting our assignments short like this. It certainly
  ain't no class reunion. You've been here, working with Trent. Any
  clues?"

  "Here's the man himself. Why don't you ask him?" he said, looking
  towards the door.

   -------------------------------------------------------------------

  Trent was one of the original, tough as nails, commanders. From the
  day we had been chosen for CT conversion, he had been more than just
  a C.O. He had been our counsellor, our father, our mother, our
  motivator, our discipline when we slacked off. In the company of our
  artificially reinforced bodies, he was a man of steel who we all
  held an unflinching respect for.

  His legs had been replaced a few years ago, after they got blown off
  in a raid on an underground cybernetics lab. An ex-military
  proffessor had been working for one of the big gangs, fitting arms
  and legs and doing tissue culture patch up jobs. The doc had skipped
  just before they arrived and all they'd found was the lab and a
  borg, high on drugs, armed with a mini gun. Two men had gone down
  before Trent managed to use a shotgun to relieve the borg of its
  head, but not before it got him. They had tried to track the doc,
  but he'd disappeared into the underground, too valuable to the gangs
  for them to let him be found.

  "Squad!"

  The men all snapped to attention as the Major walked in. Ten pairs
  of eyes, more perceptive than any human eyes locked on him. Ten men
  saw the same thing, something that no-one else would have been able
  to detect behind Trents perfect stoney countenance. The man was
  stressed.

  Stressed and angry.

  "At ease. Take a seat." He tossed a data pin to Cat as he faced the
  men. "Make sure everyone get's a copy of this before they leave."
  His knuckles were white as he wrung his hands. "I'll be brief. Most
  of the info is on the pin."

  "Two weeks ago we started getting reports from some of the smaller
  gangs in downtown Vegas. They were being hit hard by some new borgs
  that had moved into the neighbourhood. That's nothing unusual, but
  they were blaming us! These newcomers are fast as lightning, heavily
  armed and sporting full external combat armour. The locals thought
  we had moved in on them because these borgs aren't cheap hack and
  patch jobs. They're full military conversions." He paused to wipe
  sweat from his brow.

  "We're not sure how many there are. There have been confirmed
  sightings of two, possibly three of them. We have lost five men,
  two thismorning. These guys are tough and brutal. Ordinary slugs
  just bounce off them. Their armour looks like Cyberlabs latest
  Shadow 5. Fuck knows how they got hold of that! They're fast as
  well. Too fast! If they're running around in Cyberlabs latest
  armour, then it's possible they're also using something similar to
  CINCH. Officially, the army are treating it as an ordinary rougue
  borg hunt. Unofficially we think it's the doc again. He must have
  managed to get some serious backing to come up with this lot. I had
  to pull every string I could to get you guys here.

  Ordinary assault teams have got the firepower to deal with these
  borgs, but a). they're not fast enough physically or mentally and
  b). they're having to work in a densly populated area of the city,
  so they can't just go around tearing the place up with explosive
  ammo or grenades. As it is, we've been trying to keep as much of
  this from the public as we can. We don't want to start a panic.
  Intelligence is working around the clock and any updates will be
  transmitted to us immeadiately."

  He plugged a pin into the wall display and brought up a map with a
  large rectangular area marked off in red.

  "So far we seem to have them tracked to zones 6 and 7. Thats an
  area 4 blocks by 2 blocks, which contains the Nova plaza, Intercred
  tower and several other large corp buildings. They're all connected
  underground as well, so it's a real maze.

  Cat. You'll be going into the Nova security center and running the
  net from the inside. Danny. I want you running Cats hardware and
  backing him up. Let me know what gear you need and I'll have it
  within the hour. If these bastards are as good as they appear, you
  two could be in as much danger of getting fried as anyone, so
  whatever you need, it's yours."

  He paused long enough to glance at each one of us, then said, "The
  rest of you, partner off as usual. You'll be taking two blocks each
  until we engage. The rest of the details are in the upload. Weapons
  and armour are waiting.

  Any questions?"

  "Yeah Sir." It was Flash. So named, partly because of his speed on
  his feet, but mostly because of his use of incendiary weapons. He
  smiled. "How do you want the docs' brain? Baked or Grilled?"

  "Thinking!" snapped Trent. "Weapon use is to be kept down as much as
  reasonably possible. There are a lot of people around in this area."

  He gave us all a hard look.

  "I'll see you all at departure."

  -----------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                         (end of part 1)

  More to follow. (I hope!)








+----------------------------------------+----------------------------+
| A wise old owl sat on an oak.          |  \|/                  \|/  |
| The more he saw, the less he spoke.    | - * -   Kerry Hart   - * - |
| The less he spoke, the more he heard.  |  /|\                  /|\  |
| Why aren't we like that wise old bird. | kerry@pinn.nackjack.gen.nz |
+----------------------------------------+----------------------------+