Готовый перевод Хроники Аскета: Вторжение / The Ascet Chronicles: Invasion: Глава 14

Chapter 14

The remaining five days flew by at a frantic pace. My subordinates were eager to consolidate their weak knowledge of the major topics, and somehow it turned out that they turned to me for advice.

The time for my own lessons was necessarily reduced as a result of the teacher's busy schedule. I had to concentrate on a few basic topics, considering that there was more and more new material and no opportunity to master absolutely everything. I decided for myself that it was necessary to master "non-core" skills as far as possible. There was a lot of interesting and useful subjects that could bring benefit in the most unexpected situations - for example, the additional lessons with Daniel helped me to strengthen my body. Now I was counting on greater stability and a long period of time in "stretching time". Maybe I wouldn't have to heal ligaments anymore.

Five days, of course, was not enough. It is foolish to expect that in such a short time you can fix all the faults. On the other hand, the time that passed could not be considered a waste of time: now we, the commanders, had a better idea of the capabilities of our soldiers. If everything went smoothly, later we would pull up the laggards but now - just rested. On the last day, Chizhov forbade us to train and personally supervised the execution of the order.

Beerbrewer and Hawk were buried at the base. We were all lonely people - the first group took this quality into special consideration - so there was no problem with the funeral. I, too, would have preferred to lie at the base near my friends, instead of some St. Petersburg cemetery. Maybe because the word "home" gradually began to mean a small room in a three-story building rather than my city apartment.

The night before we left, we sat over the graves. Student didn't show up - he hadn't finished his treatment yet. However, the Phantom kept him informed of our affairs. After the hospital Student would train at the Intelligence Training Center and begin working in the "alien" field - in other words, detecting Nests. So we'll see each other.

"How many of yours did you take?" I asked Wicked.

"Four. The others are early. What about you?"

"All of them. The first tier is a test, the second tier I'll take the best."

"That's a good idea. Wait, so you're going with three groups?"

"Yes."

"Can you handle it?" Wicked had reason to have doubts. It's hard to control the rookies while at the same time monitoring the situation in the Nest. If you work without rest and break your body's strength melts very quickly.

"I think so. I've organized them in such a way that each compartment has one "listener" who can spot the beasts more easily. If he misses one, I will. There won't be a problem on the first level - I'm sure."

"That would be good."

The wound seemed to have had a stronger effect on Wicked than I'd thought. Before, there was no trace of indecision in him. He was eager to fight to argue about everything ready to take on any enemy alone. Now there was some kind of breakdown in him.

"I don't like your mood."

"What about it?"

"There is fear in you."

"There is no fear in me!"

I looked into Wicked's face. The ugly mask made it hard to read his expression, but why should I? The aura was clear enough to express emotion. Anger, fury, confusion, and, at the very bottom, barely perceptible fear.

"You can't hide your soul from me." I think I'm in danger of getting punched in the face.

"I'm OK!"

I just nodded. I'll keep an eye on him before an assault.

"OK!"

I divided my squad into three groups. There was no point in all three of us wandering around the dungeon. Too many fighters would get in each other's way. For me, and for the other commanders, it's not so much about destroying the Nest as it is about finding out which of our psionics have insufficient training. What is missed in the training process. Only the strongest of the "angels" will enter the Queen's Chamber.

"The first pair - Mordva, Maltsev. The second - Simonov, Koltsov. Third: Vasya, Olga, Savchenko. You will work on your own, I'm just watching. I won't let you get killed, but no more than that... So rely on yourselves."

My subordinates stood there with sour faces. Not only was the training program incomplete, but the instructor was declaring his impending non-interference. That's all right, danger mobilizes: let them worry.

After yesterday's free day, when the fighters got acquainted with the Special Forces "escort", the mood of everyone was tense but elevated. In fact, for almost everyone the assault was not the first - the difference from the previous ones was in methods and perception of the world. The first group was attended by almost the entire camp: everyone knew that the new "angels" were taking a kind of exam today. Wicked and Executor went down their corridors first, and then it was our turn.

Maltsev put on Dust Helmet, Air Wall, and Invisible Armor, while Mordva put on Armor and prepared Death Claw. So Maltsev's defense is on, and Mordva has to find and destroy the enemy. So far, they've acted correctly. I put up Holy Armor myself. A new sign, combining the qualities of Dust Helmet and Invisible Armor. It was a bit more difficult to create than any of the previous known signs and easier to penetrate. On the other hand, it took less effort to create and hold. In addition, unlike the Helmet, Holy Armor covered only one combatant. Which made it easier to scan your surroundings.

We moved slowly down the corridor, destroying low-level creatures along the way. Mordva had already used the Death Claw twice, and I wondered with great interest what he would do when his shell was depleted. Would he use the stones? Of course, I'm tempted to do it myself, but I must let the escort shoot to save my strength. Something was interesting ahead: would my companions notice it or not?

The more often you use your abilities, the stronger they become: you gain experience. It was very difficult and painful to enter the mental world at first, but now I learned how to "surface" from the real world for a short time, look around for the presence of someone else, and to return to the normal worldview again. It took me a long time to master this way of searching, though. The psionics didn't even notice the commander's temporary departure - just a short respite after another fight was enough. I tracked the alien, marked him with a piece of my aura, and returned quietly.

The creature lurched further down the corridor, where the group stubbornly moved forward. I was faced with a choice - what to do next? I could simply warn Mordva but then the educational effect would disappear. I could take it out myself, but I had promised not to interfere, and I meant to keep my word. I had to compromise and limit myself to creating another Wall in front of the group. It would delay the alien enough for Mordva or Maltsev to react.

Mordva was no fool: when he noticed my actions, he stopped. The guy looked around for a long time, carefully checking the tunnel, but didn't notice anything. If I hadn't known for sure that the Phantom's men were showing methods of unmasking, the lad would have had a clue. However, he had the information he needed. So he'd have to do it himself.

Finally, the group slowly moved forward. After ten steps, I felt a flash of excitement coming from the alien, and then several things happened almost simultaneously. The creature rapidly pushed off the wall and slammed into the defenses I'd set up. The Special Forces soldiers who were walking nearby opened fire on the swiftly gliding shadow, and Mordva blindly threw a fireball and missed. I was satisfied with Maltsev's actions - he simply moved his Wall to the scene of the fight in cold blood, covering the fighters.

According to my calculations, Mordva now had about twenty units of power left in his shell. Not enough to continue the cleanup. So, we should go back, although the control time is not over yet. Will the fighter notice his weakness or not?

"My shell is exhausted." The voice from beneath the mask sounded muffled, though the aura took on the colors of discontent and shame. "Let's go back."

The next group, the short, black-faced Simonov and the short, round-haired Koltsov, didn't cause me any problems. They worked like clockwork: one defended, the other hit and they switched after thirty minutes. However, there were no surprises on their way. We returned on time and even with a decent margin in the shell. High quality, professional work.

Chizhov was waiting for me at the entrance:

"Maybe you should take a break. The third group is your weakest."

I did not interfere. I have already given more orders than I intended at first: let's see how Vasya reacts to the actions of his subordinate. Will he pay attention or not?

Vasya didn't notice. Pity: I had hoped for more - I liked the Korean. Executive, hardworking, always carefully following orders, and at the same time smart, proactive, and capable of independent decisions. However, we still had almost an hour - let us wait. In our business, it is the result that counts.

The first alien the group killed, the Korean shot down with a fireball. I was watching the girl, who had almost lost control of her signs when she sensed the presence of the enemy. During the pause made to recover from the first encounter, she never once took her eyes off the pile of ash - and turned around as she walked away. Her aura expressed a strange mixture of pleasure, disappointment, and relief.

Executor was waiting for us at the exit from the Nest.

After this statement, Chizhov cheered up and even rejoiced. Savchenko went to his tent, and instead, we were joined by Phantom, who first of all inquired:

"Listen, Ascet, is it true that there's a lesbian in your squad that you want to cure through a long stay in the Nest?"

"Bullshit."

"That's what the whole camp is talking about. You decided to correct her orientation."

"She has problems not with sexual orientation but with orientation. In space. "To Chizhov's surprised look I replied: "t's insignificant. I'll tell you later."

Chizhov nodded and turned to Phantom. As he told him, he smiled wider and wider, although the colonel softened some of the details. Now it turned out that before Ignat was all right, the loss of abilities appeared recently. However, Phantom did not voice his thoughts - he was satisfied with the edited version. In the end, chuckling, Phantom agreed to show the boy to Dead Man.

"I would like to accompany him. It would be easier for me to describe what I saw."

Frolov wrinkled his nose a little but promised to try. I got the impression that they tried to keep Dead Man under the radar and did not welcome any contact with him. Even our previous meeting took place only because Dead Man didn't so much rebel as come close to it.

After Phantom left, Chizhov turned to me:

"You explain everything to Ignat. What is there to explain, you know?" I nodded. "What's the story with Olga?"

"She is badly affected by the dungeon conditions. She will stay in the Nest until the end of the assault. Let her get used to it."

"She won't last long in a gas mask."

"The air below is normal, a gas mask is needed against aliens."

Chizhov shrugged his shoulders. We were generally given a lot of freedom in decision-making but we have also demanded failures severely. Wicked one had already been seriously screwed for excessive rigidity of training, leading to injuries to fighters and delays in the training process. If it were not for the consistently high performance of his platoon, the hell he would have held his position. I should go check on him.

Before going to Wicked, I spent a long time explaining to Ignat his new biography. The bosses were trying to get out of an unpleasant situation with the least losses and even with a little bonus in the form of a gift for the scouts. The principle "you to me and I to you" never failed anyone yet. When I was sure that the situation was clear to the offender and that the rest of the initiates would not tell me the details, I went in search of Wicked.

"Hi there." My friend's good mood has been rare since the acid mutilated his face. "I heard you sent Olga underground. Like she's gonna storm the second tier by herself."

"I wonder who fabricates the rumors?"

"Folk art. What's new?" I described the situation with Savchenko, and Evil swore, "Okay, there has to be at least a fly in the ointment. Have you heard the latest news? About the recruitment?"

"No. Not another rumor, I hope?"

A loot goblin I know from the department told me, he's a tried-and-true guy. The order was to create five more groups of "cleaners": four regular ones and one like ours - with a shell of over eighty. After training, they will be assigned to our platoons.

So it's back to fiddling with recruits, nice and tedious. Phantom told me that the national average is now one new Nest per month, and the rate of growth is slowly increasing. The formation of new groups is inevitable. Fighters are needed, and the more the better.

"How are yours?"

"It's okay. We'll go down tomorrow: I'll take everybody. And you?"

"Simonov, Koltsov, Maltsev and Vasya. Olga and Mordva early."

Wicked looked good, and I calmed down. More accurately, his aura looked good, his face was still fearful and disgusting. He was offered to wear a mask so as not to scare people but Wicked refused in harsh terms. I do not know what was more in his decision - masochism, love of epatage, or a kind of pride.

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