Boundary - Low Orbital Warfare: REPORT 9

After almost half a month on Earth, Station Four felt like a different world entirely. From the space planes, onto the zero gravity promenades, and back again into the cluttered office of Task Force Thirty-One; work called for the most well rested of personnel.

Clapping his hands together, Admiral Tucker begins the meeting. “Alright everyone, hope you all had a good vacation because we’re going right back into it.”

The tired, slightly woozy looks that are returned to the old man project zero confidence. The Rubicon’s crew, sitting along the left side of Task Force Thirty One’s office, looked completely destroyed from the trip up to orbit; jet lag pulling on their faces, each of them sit slouching in positions barely comfortable. 

Comparatively, Marauder Squad and the added Captain Perez looked much healthier at a visual inspection. Though, their pained forms betrayed a much more vicious vacation than those of naval crewmen.

Spending the past two weeks in Sergeant Major Lee’s Los Angeles Home, which could only be described as a mansion by modern standards, Marauder Squad was subject to a brutal training regimen that nearly sent the entire three man team to the hospital twice over.

In less than a month and in her free time no less, the Head of Instruction of the Solar System Defense Force had whipped up the atrophied forms of Marauder into lean and muscular warriors. From victims of mild zero-gravity muscle degradation to near perfect representations of a soldier ready for combat, the woman had worked a miracle like a thousand others before them.

Of course, Captain Perez by proxy was no exception to the marine squad’s endured training, her suffering compounded by her long-term inactivity at the command chair of the Rubicon. 

Snapping his fingers, the room’s attention is again refocused towards the Admiral standing at the far end of the table. “For the record, I think we’ve all been destroyed these past few weeks, I know Marauder’s been feeling the wrath of The Sergeant Major.”

A few laughs are echoed, both in pain and pity.

“Either way, I hope pulling everyone back to Station Four will at least help grow back your space legs in due time. Captain Perez if you would like to make your announcement before we start.”

“Augh.” The woman groans as she stands, taking a moment to watch her crew rise at her return. “As you all know the Rubicon’s retrofit will be finished by tomorrow, and so we’ll be flying out to the Boneyard on Wednesday to retrieve her.”

A few cheers are sounded, some of the Officer’s taking a moment to exchange high fives. The Captain continues. “From what I hear the Admiral’s completely stripped the girl out so she needs to take a few days for a shakedown before coming back to Four. By then I assume Admiral Tucker and Marauder will be ready.”

Nodding to the old man, the Admiral bridges the Captain’s words to his own. “Alright when I say that if any of this information gets leaked we will kill you, I’m absolutely serious. And after I’m done with this general briefing I’m going to have to ask everyone in the Naval Division of our Task Force to leave. Everyone clear?”

The office murmurs, thirteen personnel in concerned agreement.

Admiral Tucker takes a deep breath before speaking up, the room automatically dimming as the projector on the table activates. “This will be our first real Operation as a Task Force, so we hopefully won’t be bumbling around like last time.”

Map zooming in and a few nervous chuckles sounded, the Admiral begins the briefing. “Over the past three months Naval Intelligence has been monitoring seven launch sites spread across Java Treaty Territory, all of which have been launching satellites via their Buraq rocket system every other week. Normally this wouldn’t cause any suspicion, but since all twelve thousand metric tons of their collective payloads are officially flagged as ‘communication’ satellites there’s been a lot of eyes raised from the international community.”

The chart shifts now to a model of a rocket system, frame highlighted in a wireframe of blue.

“The Java Treaty’s Buraq Vertical Launch system is an internally developed rocket that carries up to sixty-four metric tons of payload to low earth orbit. This is their primary launch system for both manned and unmanned missions and has been in service for the past twenty years.”

 The slide changes, now a comparing diagram of two satellites. Displayed left, the massive transceiver systems of a United Nations Star-COM communications hub fold outward, the familiar shape instantly recognizable to the Marines and Sailors of the service. Against it to the right, a sleek black ovoid shape more reminiscent of a missile than a satellite. A single receiver is mounted at one of its ends, the system tiny in comparison to its contemporary.   

“To the left is one of our standard communication relays, and to the right is one of the payloads sent up by the Java Treaty.” Admiral Tucker claps, looking to the group in front of him. “Anything wrong with the one on the left?”

Both the Rubicon’s engineering officer and Lieutenant Keys speak up at the same time, both of them exchanging a glance.

“You want to do this?” Lieutenant Ano of the Rubicon asks.

“Yeah sure.” Keys answers. “That transceiver isn't big enough for a communications satellite. Unless it's mostly internal, it’s not going to even get through atmosphere.”

“Exactly.” The Admiral nods. “By that note, and the fact that the Java Treaty has littered low earth orbit with hundreds of these things, we’re involved.”

Admiral Tucker takes a moment as he looks over to the naval half of the office. “For now, I’ll have ask for the Rubicon’s crew to leave.”  

“Including me?” Captain Perez raises.

“Sorry Captain, I’d prefer to keep this within Marauder, at least until we’re ready for the operation.”

Taking a sigh the woman narrows her eyes. “If this OP requires the Rubicon then you better brief me at least two weeks in advance.” Standing she motions for her crew to follow. “We’ll be at Ming’s, call us when you’re finished.”

Perez takes a moment to lean down to her partner, pecking Master Sergeant Ling on the cheek before leading her crew out of the office.

Behind them the door closes, leaving the three Marines and Admiral alone within the chamber. For a moment they remain quiet, all eyes now turning back the briefing Officer.

With a smile and a calm tone, the words that come out of his mouth are honeyed beyond their terrifying implication. “Normally they would call this a suicide mission, but I’m very certain that with some adjustments you three could easily come out of this alive.”

The pause echoes through the climate-controlled room with dead silence.

“That's a great way to start a briefing sir.” Lieutenant Keys comments.

“Well I haven’t gotten to the good parts yet.” The Admiral chuckles. “You three are tasked with the same mission the Vacuum Exiles had; to infiltrate the Java Treaty launch site designated as ‘Site-3.’”

A satellite image is brought up, the three-dimensional architectural map overlaid across a concrete facility. Placed in the middle of a desert of dust, the place looked standard for its location; old technology salvaged to better use in the hands of a desperate defense.

“No.” Master Sergeant Shu Ling announces. “Bad idea. Vacuum Exiles died. Anyone going in is going to die.”

“I knew you’d say that!” Admiral Tucker snaps gleefully. “That’s why we’re not the only ones involved in this operation.”

There isn’t a response from the marine squad, ears carefully tuned to the man’s next sentence. “I’ve called a friend in the D.o.D., they’re interested in what we’re doing and have offered to at least help in the matter.”

“D.o.D.?” Corporal Mercier asks Keys with a confused look.

“United States Department of Defense.” Lieutenant Keys whispers. “C.I.A., Military, Space Force; his friend’s probably the Deputy Director or something.”

The Admiral clears his throat. “I took the liberty of dealing with the politics, called in a few favors from some old gaming buddies of mine. In essence, both the People’s Liberation Army Special Operations Force and the United States Navy have agreed to send in a joint team along with our operation. They’ve got a task force anchored in the Arabian Sea currently, and so a strike team will be deploying from there into Site-Three.”

“And why are they agreeing to this?” Lieutenant Keys asks.

The next slide in the presentation precedes the Admiral's answer. A massive red anomaly blotches out the site’s overview, concentrated at the eastern quadrant. The nuclear symbol at the image’s top right corner speaks volumes, enough that Marauder falls silent.

“You wave a nuclear weapon in the right person’s face and suddenly everyone freaks out.” Admiral Tucker answers. “Based on the initial plan at least thirty-seven personnel total are going to be deployed for this. Not enough time for a real plan, considering the time frame for the OP is literally a week from today.”

“A week?!!!” The marine squad gawks.

“C.I.A. thinks whatever nuclear payload stored on that site is going up on the next launch, and the next rocket up is coincidentally scheduled for next week plus two days.”

“This is tight timeline.” Master Sergeant Ling grumbles. “I do not like it.”

“Me neither.” The Admiral admits. “If we had more time the Russians would have sent their Black Sea carrier group with a Spetsnaz Team to help out. But as it stands, the operation will have to make do with what it has on hand.”

“Which is what?” Lieutenant Keys raises.

“The aforementioned joint special forces team inserted along with its helicopter transport, an F-35 Squadron, one GJ-3 UAV for recon, and finally whatever other ordnance the Carrier group is willing to launch.”

“Couldn’t spare a fire support gunship, could you?” Lieutenant Keys sarcastically asks.

“Now that’s a bit too much.” Admiral Tucker replies. “But otherwise, your job in this whole matter is a little different from the rest.”

The satellite view transitions to an orbital map, a single target highlighted. “Anyone know Section 23 on the U.N. Provision for Space Development?”

The Master Sergeant attempts an answer. “Orbital weapons?” 

Admiral Tucker nods. “Specifically orbital-surface bombardment weapons. However, the provision is hilariously strict on what it defines as a ‘weapon.’”

Keys stops. “Oh god you’re not going to ask us to deorbit a satellite like the June Ninth Terrorists are you?”

“That was the plan.”

The entire marine squad leans back in expected surprise.

“We’re using this as a capstone for the operation. Crash one of their own special “communication” satellites into Site-Three to raze the operation, try and make a deniable clause”

Corporal Mercier comments calmly at this notion, her French accent impacting the subject matter as she recounts her own national history. “It is not easy to hit a target, especially using a satellite from orbit. Even in Paris, the satellite missed central, was much worse if it did hit its target.” 

Lieutenant Keys continues from the Corporal’s point. “Yeah I.C.S.-One was off by about four kilometers. How the fuck are we supposed to drop a satellite a tenth of its size onto a launch pad?”

Admiral Tucker motions for silence, the unspoken order followed as the group settles down. “Well first of all the June Ninth terrorists had access to a military grade orbital control system, which we do have an improved version of. Second, I.C.S. One was a brick on the way down. This little thing is much more aerodynamic and has RCS built in. We can change its trajectory on the fly and make course adjustments if needed.”

“Quick question.” The Lieutenant raises. “This is going to make a deniable clause how?”

The Admiral nods at the words. “If there isn’t a nuke then there’s no direct physical evidence of foreign involvement, just a simple terrorist attack. If there is one then it’s just a way to cover the extraction team.”

“I have a feeling that this is just excuse to make a big explosion.” Master Sergeant Ling frowns.  

Admiral Tucker freezes, responding with a change in topic. “Listen, all you three need to do is install some software via hardline and we’re good.”

“Software injection using a hardline on a satellite?” Lieutenant Keys raises an eyebrow. “Like with a physical wire?!”

Admiral Tucker nods. “Easiest, and probably the only way to do it.”

“Fuck that means someone’s going to have to troubleshoot in-process.” The Lieutenant attempts to remember his own software training, the Combat Engineering courses only touching on the mere basics of its application. “We’re going to get fucked if something goes wrong.”

Admiral Tucker’s tone changes to assurance. “We’ll have a remote software specialist on hand to deal with the technical aspects of the infiltration, so I won’t be asking for you to whip up a custom program on the fly.”

“I sure hope your guy is good then.”

“Oh, he’s the best in the world, literally.” Admiral Tucker turns back to the screen, advancing the slide show forward. “After you finish installing our custom control software into this Java Treaty Satellite, you’ll have around twelve hours before we’ll reach your deployment window. By then, you’d be geared up and ready for an on-ground deployment.”

“Hold on.” Master Sergeant Ling stops as he leans forward. “That was serious? We are on the planet?”

“That is illegal.” Corporal Mercier notes. “Correct?”

“Yep…” The Lieutenant sighs. “Welcome to Marauder Squad Corporal.”

Admiral Tucker nods. “Hopefully it’s not been too long since you guys passed basic, still know how to shoot a gun in atmosphere, correct?”

“I do not think this is a black op is it?” The Master Sergeant asks.

“A black operation through and through; you three will be attached to the American side… no offense you two.” Admiral smiles at both Master Sergeant Ling and Corporal Mercier, the pair exchanging a quick glance before turning back to the Admiral. “Primary objectives of the ground forces are the securement of the site and the nuclear device stored there. However, you three will have a different objective.”

The architectural plans fold together, a circle marking a structure due north from the structure.

“Your primary mission is to secure as much intel as you can; paper files, hard drives, everything and anything that has data you grab it. Hopefully we’ll hit a jackpot on this site and finally figure what the Java Treaty’s doing with the Boundary Project.”

“And then?” The Master Sergeant asks.

“And then, you’ll rendezvous with the rest of the Team for extraction and watch the fireworks as we crash the satellite down on the Site. Then, arriving aboard the carrier U.S.S. K. Jerome, you’ll be flown back to L.A. right on time for Thanksgiving Dinner with Sergeant Major Lee. Total mission timeline; four days.”

“Sounds like you have this all planned.” Lieutenant Keys leans back. “Anything we need to do?”

“Well your personal plan of attack on the ground still needs to be made. Other than that, most of this operation will be riding on the backs of the ground forces.”

Positioned much better tactically within the operation, the team exchange glances of assurance.

Master Sergeant Ling speaks first, responsibility for their lives and tradition demanding so. “How are we deploying? You mentioned we only had twelve hours after satellite?”

“I’ll be keeping that as a fun surprise.” The Admiral smiles. “Don’t worry, all I need from you people is to figure out your game plan, and after that Captain Perez and I will nail down your deployment schedule and any other miscellaneous items.”

“This is so much better than just rushing in and almost getting killed.” Lieutenant Keys comments. “Fuck we should do this every time.”

Admiral Tucker scoffs. “We should be doing this every time. Task Force Thirty-One was made to excel on very well-planned operations, not whatever the fuck we ran on the Astral Wanderer. Either way, we’ve learned and now we’re putting it into practice here.”

“What is the operation called?” Ling asks.

“The working name so far is Operation Shooting Star.”

Lieutenant Keys pauses. “Operation Shooting Star?”

“It’s a working title.” The Admiral admits with a bit of sympathy. “So, for all of you your deliverables are due next week along with a general requisitions list for anything you need for this operation. And I can help hook you up with a friend for general requisitions, if that is needed.”

“What can your ‘friend’ get us?” Lieutenant Keys asks with some interest.

“Anything within reason.” The Admiral answers carefully. “The American fiscal year is almost over, and the C.I.A. is bored of destabilizing Indian open market securities with whatever’s left with the budget. Might as well spend it somewhere fun.”

Keys perks up. “Can I have a M.U.L.E. combat drone?”

Ling’s smile brightens a bit. “Oh man the one with artillery mortar on top?”

“The model I was thinking of was the one with the 30mm cannon and a T.O.W. Missile; the one they make for U.N. Peacekeepers.”

“Ohhhh.” Master Sergeant Ling remembers with wide eyes.

“Yeah imagine busting down the front gate of Site Three with that thing.” The Lieutenant raises his hands as he dramatically plays out his own fantasy, explosions and bullets flying in a theatre of mind. “A fucking walking tank just gunning everything down and razing the place.”

“Put it on hill, use it as support fire platform.” Ling adds to the image.

“Oh fuck yeah.” Keys agrees, pointing towards the eastern hillside. “Park it five hundred meters or so out so it's safe from rocket fire. Load it with a tracer belt and just cause chaos.”

Ling nods. “And when tank arrives to destroy it, use the missile?” 

The tracked vehicle stops, frying pan shaped turret turning to face the source of fire. In the distance a lance of burning solid fuel ignites, crossing the distance in three seconds flat. The warhead detonates as it shears through armor, shredding through the internal structure within.  Marines watch as the hostile vehicle cooks off, the munitions exploding in a shower of shrapnel and debris.

Keys turns over to Corporal Mercier, her interest in the matter retained in her usual stoic expression. “And the U.N. export version comes with a Tam Analytics Mk. 7 combat computer link.” 

“What does it mean?” Mercier asks.

“Means it can integrate with our ballistic computer systems; wind speed, pressure, temperature, automatically calculated for marksmen.” The Lieutenant informs. “Not much use for us in the System Defense Force up in space, but on Earth I’ve heard that a few U.N. Peacekeepers have managed to score five-kilometer hits using the system.”

Mercier blinks, imagining the shot connecting after almost six seconds of travel time. “That is cool.”

“太棒了!” The Master Sergeant claps, turning to the Admiral. “Can we have one?”

“No.” Admiral Tucker immediately shuts them down.

Expected disappointment arrives on their faces, Keys asking the question at hand. “Why not?”

The old man sighs as he puts his palm against his forehead. “First of all, where are you going to store the thing? Second, how much will it cost?”

“The export model?” Keys thinks. “Three million probably. And we could find a $10/month storage lot to park it in right?”

The old man pauses as he tries to formulate an appropriate answer. “I don’t even think I can explain to the rest of the Admiralty why Task Force Thirty-One needs a two-ton walking death machine, or why it’s sitting in a 1-800-storage lot. Proposal rejected.”

“That makes sense.” Master Sergeant Ling agrees.

“Come on Ling!” Keys breaks.

“We will probably use it for one operation only, not worth it I think.”

“Oh don’t worry.” Both Corporal Mercier and Lieutenant Keys turn back to Admiral Tucker, the man’s expression hovering on a content smile and excited eyes. “I’ve got a special surprise for all of you after the Operation.”

“Hardware?” Keys asks.

“Sort of.” The Admiral nods. “I think you’ll be getting a taste of it soon.”

“You can’t just tease us with that!” Keys complains as the rest of Marauder shuffle uncomfortably.

Ignoring him and turning back to the presentation, Admiral Tucker advances to the final blank slide. “Any questions about the Operation?”

“I am excited.” Ling comments as he clasped his hands together.

“Yeah I’m ready for this.” Keys adds.

“Corporal?” Admiral Tucker turns to the remaining member.

“I have no comment.” Mercier finishes.

The Admiral laughs. “There is no doubt in my mind that this Operation will go so well the Admiralty won’t even hear about it.”

“They don’t know?” Lieutenant Keys pauses. “Wait…”

“I’ve told them not to ask any questions about Task Force Thirty-One if I promise not to interfere too much with their operations. Those new kids on the Admiralty Board have been trying to get rid of me for the past three years, so this is probably a good thing for the both of us.”

Master Sergeant Ling remains still as he processes the man’s words. “What do you mean by disagreement with the Admiralty?”

“I’ll try to leave out the internal politics, especially for you people who need to focus on your jobs.” Admiral Tucker sighs. “It’s a new era for the Solar System Defense Force; most of the old guard’s gone at this point. Hell, if Vodka retires before you then that’s probably a sign that you’ve been in the game for too long.”

“Vodka?” A three members of Marauder ask simultaneously.

“It’s a nickname.” The Admiral waves away the question. “Don’t ask.”

The squad exchange glances, the afternoon’s research topic already decided.

Admiral Tucker claps. “Anyway, the rest of your week is up to you. Just please be ready, I don’t want any of you getting killed because of bad planning.” 

“Ominous.” Keys comments. “Ling?”

“We will do so well even the Admiralty would not know we were there.”

Admiral Tucker smiles. “Atta boy.”