Exodus: Empires at War: Book 8: Soldiers (Exodus: Empires at War.) by Doug Dandridge Read Free Book Online Page A

comfortable within the armor.
    Walborski
started off on the run, looking down the long path that led through the
training base.  He knew he was in as good of shape as any of these men,
but that most of them were still in his class.  Setting the pointer on the
HUD on a target thirty kilometers away, he set his pace at fast, his armored
feet slapping the hard surface of the road.
    They went the
first couple of kilometers at a sedate ten kilometers an hour, catching the
catcalls and jeers of other special ops troops that were working or exercising
outside their barracks.  Other Rangers, by the battalion, Marine Force
Recon, Fleet Commandos, all proud men who thought they were better than the
others.  Some of them would be going on their missions without armor, and
were looking down on a unit that was now equipped with what the ordinary grunts
wore.  Some of them would soon find out that they also were going to be
wearing the suits.
    “Let’s show
these mugs how to run,” he called over the com, then increased his pace,
hitting twenty kilometers per hour, up to thirty, then passing forty, still
under what they could hit without the suits.  A curve was coming up, and a
glance at the rear view of his HUD showed that most of the men were looking at
that curve, anticipating the change of direction.
    Cornelius picked
up the pace, up to sixty kilometers an hour, running in a straight line, off of
the road at the curve.  There was a five meter tall fence straight ahead,
and Cornelius pushed the pace again, then took the last step and leapt into the
air, clearing the fence easily and landing lightly on his feet, despite the
weight of the armor.
    “You’ve got the
target on your HUD,” said Cornelius over the com, sending them the data. 
“Last one there buys a round.”
    That got them
going.  Immediately a couple of men passed the Captain, pushing their
suits for all they were worth.  Cornelius smiled, knowing what was ahead,
which would not show up on his soldiers’ HUD until they were very near.
    “You OK, sir?,”
called out one of his platoon leaders as he passed, using his own command
circuit to override Cornelius’ com block.
    “I’m fine,
Lieutenant,” he answered with a short laugh.  “Just getting old.”
    That elicited a
laugh from the other officer, who continued on at a fast pace.  Cornelius
watched as about half of this company passed him, then picked up the pace to
stay in the middle, looking at his map as they approached the first
obstacle.  He went ahead and dropped the com block, listening to the back
and forth between the men.  And then came the yells of surprise as they
reached the canyon.
    Cornelius
laughed as he made his way through his men to reach the canyon that loomed like
a knife slash through the hills, trees growing up to the cut.
    “What the hell’s
stopping you,” yelled Cornelius, running up to the slash and jumping in,
letting his suit fall until his sensors told him he was twenty meters from
touchdown.  His grabbers took over, slowing him to a hard but sustainable
touchdown.  As soon as he hit he jumped, taking off over the rocks at the
bottom and coming back down thirty meters further on, aiming for an open area
across the jumble.
    The men started jumping
down, remembering what kind of capabilities they had in these suits.  The
Captain reached the other wall and went into a hard jump, soaring into the air,
cutting in his grabbers as soon as he reached the point where he was on the
verge of falling back, then up and over the lip of the canyon and into the
woods beyond.
    “What a bunch of
slugs,” he yelled over the com, running through the thick woods, dodging trees,
for the most part, slamming into several with hits that would have stretched
him on the ground if he hadn’t been armored.  His audio sensors picked up
the sounds of the first group of his men hitting the top of the canyon and
running on, crashing through the brush like a bunch of dinosaurs.  If this
had