Starship Troopers: Chronicles of a Mobile Infanterist

Chapter 7.1

„Far from their Land as they made their stand, A disregarded demand, Its surrender or die and the stakes are high, They live or they die, there's no time for goodbye; Weapon in hand, as they made their stand; Still disregarding demand; They would never comply, they would rather die; ....."

-Sabaton in their song: The Lost Battalion

The plan devised by the High Command was absolutely insane. They had converted a Q-bomb into a missile and loaded it onto a new super-battleship. They had the plan, and the suspicion, that the Q bomb would be the only thing that could stop the Titan. However, since the missile was rather provisional, it did not have its own heat-seeking array, as it was standard on most nuclear missiles. Mobile infantrymen had to go over to this Titan to attach direction buoys to its outer shell. These buoys would then direct the missile to its target. And who should board this huge bug?

Of course, we from the John A. Warden, who else. They wanted to drop two hundred infantrymen on the enemy Titan, who would then help kill the biggest damn insect in history with their own hands. If we failed with our part, it would have been over, the Federation would have lost.

We were just preparing for what was probably the most important mission of our lives when the intercom sounded with a ship-wide message.

"Attention, attention, to all crewmen, this is the admiral speaking. In a few hours we will leave for what may be our most important mission," she stopped, "I'm not going to lie to you, we need a miracle to pull this off. We are dealing with a responsibility as colossal as no one has ever had. But we will make it. Remember, if you survive this, you will have something to tell for generations to come. Good luck, men. Admiral Ibanez out."

Well, it wasn't really motivating at the time. As we continued to check and clean our suits and weapons, we were already seeing other Federation battleships through the viewing ports. There were the Thermopylae and the Scapa Flow. The two steel giants laid quietly next to us, looking as if they were watching us. They had a powerful aura. There was only an hour left to deployment, and all the infantrymen were already gathering in the hangars. The mood had reached its lowest point. My father came up to me at that time and gave me a subtle nod. I gathered all my courage and every talent for political oratory that I could muster.

"Sorry! Can you please listen to me for a minute?", everyone turned in my direction, two hundred infantrymen, "I know what's about to happen. We are about to enter the greatest battle of our lives, no, not of our lives, but of history. I know you're fucking scared, because I am too. But always remember what we are, we are mobile infantrymen. We are not just men and women, we are the sword, we are the shield and we are the spirit of the Federation. But we are more than that, we are an idea. A sword can break, a shield can be destroyed and a spirit can be broken, but an idea, an idea can neither be destroyed nor broken.", I paused for a moment, then I raised my voice, "TODAY THE IDEA OF FEDERATION WILL NOT PERISH, TODAY WE WILL BE VICTORIOUS, TODAY WE SHOW THE WHOLE GALAXY WHO WE ARE." I raised my rifle, "Uh-Rah!" I shouted.

"Uh-Rah!" shouted Chesa, and then more and more soldiers joined in until everyone on the damn hangar deck shouted "Uh-Rah!"

"Let's do this!" I shouted, and all the soldiers started moving.

"Oh my goodness!", said Chesa, "Wouldn't you have preferred to go into politics?"

"Nah," I replied, "Too much chatter and not enough action."

Chesa nodded and smiled, and continued counting her cartridges, and Crimson grabbed her Morita SG-228 shotgun, and put body armor over her battle suit. She counted the shotgun shells over and over again, and they always remained the same two hundred and twenty cartridges, not that she needed the rifle, but it apparently brought her a feeling of familiarity.

The last hour until the operation passed at a snails pace, but then finally there was the alarm. The siren made the blood boil up in all of us. We were ready, hot, and it was clear to us that it was time to get down to business.

The High Command and the Sky Marshal had requisitioned several camouflage shuttles especially for this mission, which are supposedly invisible to the bugs. All variants of the DR-4. We had just left the hangars when the Allied fleets began attacking the Titans escorts. But we were pretty much unbothered the whole way over to the Titan. The bugs ignored us so the camouflage obviously worked. On our long way there, some soldiers were still reciting prayers, some were singing songs, and others were telling jokes, and then there was the group to which I belonged. I recorded a video message and sent it to the main server of the Federation. A testimony addressed to the generations to come. But enough of that. Now it was time to get down to business.