***ANAD Config Two exiting the ship now*** came ANAD’s voice over the commlink.
“Very well,” Winger checked ship’s defensive status one last time. “ANAD, maneuver to these coordinates--“ he sent the last reported bearing from Stivik, “--and hold that position. Form up a frontal shield…assume Config Six Six.” Winger had pulled that one from the ship’s archive…it would configure the ANAD nanobotic formation into a barrier that should in theory hold off any bots working their way through the shale rock that had Scooter trapped.
“Borer at ninety percent,” D’Amato called out.
Good enough, Galland thought. “Engage the borer. Strakes, get us out of here now! DPS, get your HERF weapon and magpulser spooled up too. We may have to fight our way out of this--“
Winger complied, quickly bringing the High-Energy Radio Freq system to power. The magpulser magnetrons were already humming as well. Scooter had quite a bite for any bots that came too close.
The ship shifted, slid a little, then lurched forward with a vigorous shake, like a dog let off its leash.
“Borer operating at ninety-five percent,” said D’Amato. He manipulated his controls, shaping the hemispherical globe of bots that were beginning to chew away at the rock layers surrounding them. “Pressure and temps nominal, configs look good, we’re digging out--“
“Best forward speed, DSO,” Galland ordered.
Strakes shifted his stick slightly and the ship leveled off, then lurched forward and settled into a steady humming vibration. A cheer erupted on the command deck.
“We’re moving!” said D’Amato.
“Scooter moving out smartly,” Strakes added. He steadied his stick, feeling the force of the rock pressing against the treads and the hull. “Setting cruise speed…now two point five kilometers per hour.”
“Steer toward that swarm. Stivik, give us a bearing. ANAD, hold on, okay. We’re maneuvering to intercept.”
Now finally underway, Scooter propelled herself on full tread and borer toward the enemy bots, less than a thousand meters to starboard. The entire engagement was taking place hundreds of meters below Manhattan and northern New Jersey, in a world of hard gneiss rock and quartz layers.
“SS1, what are we dealing with here…got any structure on those bots…or that bigger contact?”
Sergeant Stivik licked his lips and scanned his board. “Acoustics look like Red Hammer-type bots, ma’am. I’ve been able to run the data through filtering, screen some of the seismic stuff. EMs and thermal…too soon to tell. Best guess, Lieutenant: we’re dealing with standard bots we’ve seen before from this source. The larger contact is still five thousand meters away, bearing zero eight five…probable geoplane but it’s hard to tell that far away.”
“That’s good enough for me. DPS, tell ANAD to prepare for combat launch…assume Config C-7, opposed entry.”
Winger sent the command over his coupler link. He was dimly aware that, aside from Galland, the rest of the crew was all Boundary Patrol. Time to show these BP pukes what real nanotroopers can do.
Clinging to Scooter’s outer hall as the ship squeezed through the layers of shale and slate nearly a thousand meters underground, the ANAD master responded.