Comrades in Arms

Chapter 10: The Armoury

Outskirts of Verdun

January 29th, 2140

Maxim Kosarkov sat in his private dormitory onboard Brigadier General Miyamoto Takiguchi’s Capital-class Titan, the Groznyj IX. Ordinarily, soldiers of his rank were not given private quarters, but General Takiguchi had, over the course of two highly successful sabotages, come to realize that Kosarkov was far more than any other Lance Corporal Gold could ever aspire to be. Promotion to at least Sergeant had been more than forthcoming, but Kosarkov had declined the higher rank citing a lack of desire to be put into a leadership role.

Miyamoto Takiguchi, however, had not been about to let one of his most prized soldiers go unrewarded. And so, in addition to the private quarters, Kosarkov had been given not only a new knife – as he had requested – but also one of the first working prototypes of a new rifle designed for Special Operations and Covert Operations personnel.

It was this weapon which the entirety of his attention was focused on, as he turned it around in his hands. The weapon itself was a derivative based on the Lambert Carbine and Voss L-AR platforms, and was something of a cross between the two. The rugged durability of the Lambert had been combined with the skeletal, lightweight construction of the Voss to create a rifle that combined the better of the two. While the basic shape was similar to the Lambert, the top carry handle and optic sight had been removed, and a dual-sighting system much like the Voss’ compound sight had been incorporated. The Lambert’s often-criticised click-lock magazine had been abandoned, replaced by the more effective and easily reloaded side-mounted Voss magazine. The weapon itself had an auxiliary barrel which could accept the PK-74 AR-Rocket and Herzog AR-Shotgun ammunition, although it did not allow for magazine loading of those rounds: individual shots had to be chambered and fired much like the old underbarrel grenade launchers of the 21st century. The heavy Lambert stock had been replaced by a skeletal model similar to that of the Zeller-H Advanced Sniper Rifle, with an integral recoil dampener.

All these modifications resulted in a weapon that was accurate, powerful and fast firing, but also expensive, which was why only Special Forces Recon were to be issued the first models of them. Though Kosarkov was not strictly speaking a Special Forces Recon, Takiguchi had been influential and persuasive enough to have one of the prototypes shipped to Verdun.

Kosarkov now set the weapon down on the table and lay down on his bed. While he certainly appreciated the gift, it was not quite what he would consider useful. There was a distinction between Special Operations – even Covert Operations, and Sabotage. Kosarkov, more so than any other soldier, actually preferred not to carry a weapon with him, save perhaps a Malkov RK-11 or even just a standard Takao T-20. Shooting was simply not supposed to be a major part of his job – demolition was. Kosarkov considered himself a cross between Recon and Engineer – the stealth of the former and the anti-vehicle and anti-materiel capability of the latter.

He sighed and went to disassemble the rifle, knowing that even though it was not what he would have usually employed, a good weapon deserved to be treated as such. Separating the weapon into its major components – barrel, stock, trigger group, lower and upper receiver – he meticulously polished any sections with moving parts in them and applied oil to the bolt. With a special swab, he cleaned out the barrel even though he knew it was spotless – the weapon had never been fired in a combat environment before. The physical activity was welcome; it gave him something to do.

Something to do had been in short supply ever since Miyamoto Takiguchi had received the order from High Command to pull out of Verdun. The remaining forces were only serving as occupying forces, as Verdun, much like Minsk, was now PAC controlled territory. As the four Titans – one Capital, two Superior and one Assault-class – swept through the skies escorted by numerous Doragons and Yastrebs, the soldiers of the X Command Division which Takiguchi commanded were all left with nothing to do but keep their eyes sharp and their fingers quick.

As Kosarkov began to lean back on his bed, a knock came at the door of his quarters. Sighing, he crossed over to the door and opened it.

On the threshold stood the three latest additions – the term used very loosely – to the X Command Division. Two Iron Legion soldiers and a gun-for-hire.

“Heard you actually got it. Where is it?” the mercenary said, wasting no time with formalities.

Kosarkov knew exactly what he was talking about. “On the desk – go ahead,” he replied. The mercenary crossed over to the desk and began to examine the new weapon. Turning to the Iron Legion men, he asked neither in particular what they were doing.

Vashkin was the one who replied by unslinging his Krylov FA-26 from his shoulder and showing it to the saboteur. “Welcome to CFOG,” he began, pronouncing the acronym as ‘see-fog’. When Kosarkov looked confused, he spelled out each letter before elaborating. “Customized Firearm Owners Group. A club for those who reject standard military issue firearms in favour of using their own weaponry, which in many cases is several times spiffier than aforementioned standard issue.” Vashkin said all this with a completely straight face.

“What? You’re kidding me, right? How many…members…have you got?” Kosarkov asked, half-jokingly.

“Well, if you join up – which you already have, since owning a custom gun automatically denotes membership – four,” Sarov explained, cutting across Vashkin.

From the other side of the room, the mercenary, who had been inspecting the new rifle very closely, now interrupted the conversation. “This is a damn nice gun you have here. If I had two AKs, and not just the one which I will never let anybody else even breathe on – I would swap one with you for this. Shot it yet?”

“No…” Kosarkov began to explain, but he only managed to get that word out before the two others recoiled in horror.

“You have a bloody prototype rifle shipped to you personally and not shot it yet?” Vashkin berated the saboteur, “Never mind us, we’re all just keeping the old school alive. You, however, have something hot off the assembly line!”

Sarov cut in before Vashkin drew breath to start a new sentence, “We’re on a Capital-class Titan, for the love of God! Forget the EU, they’re not worth the bullets this thing shoots. Let’s go try the firing range!”

Kosarkov was powerless as they shoved the rifle into his hands and practically dragged him out of his quarters into the hallway. He kept making incoherent protests about trivial things like ‘wearing out the internals’ or ‘just cleaned it’, but they fell on deaf ears.

The party of four eventually made it to the firing range of the Titan. Kosarkov, who had decided to enjoy the experience as best he could, sighed when he noticed the large sign on the rear wall ordering ‘NO EXPLOSIVES DETONATION’.

The mercenary crossed over to a crate of ammunition and removed a cardboard box of the same caliber ammunition used by the Voss L-AR. Setting it on a table, he opened the box to reveal several smaller boxes, each containing 500 rounds. Opening one box, he brought the ammunition over to the table where Kosarkov, Vashkin and Sarov sat around the rifle.

“Go on, load it up!” Vashkin encouraged the saboteur. Kosarkov complied and removed the empty Voss magazine from its recess on the gun’s left side. Taking meticulous care to get the alignment correct, he began clicking individual rounds into the magazine until it was loaded to a full forty rounds.

Gripping the magazine by its handle just like he had seen Assault troops do it, Kosarkov slotted the loaded magazine back into its recess. The gun whirred and clicked as it automatically chambered the first round. Tapping a button on the side of the weapon, Kosarkov set it to semi-automatic and shouldered it exactly as he had been trained.

Aligning the red dot of the 2.5x optical sight onto the head of a target at the other end of the range, Kosarkov squeezed the trigger.

The weapon emitted a sharp crack as it spat a single shot out of its muzzle and into the head of the polymer-composite target. Despite the fact that it used the ammunition of the Voss and the internals of a Lambert, it sounded like neither, instead having a report like a quieter Bianchi.

Vashkin and Sarov were suitably impressed. “Zeroed right out of the factory. Somebody must really like you. Try the auto?” the former quipped.

Kosarkov tapped the selector panel again and set the weapon to fully automatic. He had read the instruction manual for it and knew that its maximum rate of fire was 720 rounds per minute – not quite as fast as the Voss, but faster than the Lambert. Supposedly that translated to having the control of the Lambert and the firepower of the Voss.

Shouldering the weapon again, Kosarkov resighted on the target, this time placing the red dot on its chest. Steadying his hands, he slipped the trigger back and fired an extended burst.

On rapid fire, the weapon sounded much closer to its original base weapon. The similarities, however, ended there, and dropping his aim, Kosarkov studied the target. The weapon’s innate recoil had created a vertical line of holes from the target’s chest up its neck and into its face, but the horizontal dispersion of shots was incredibly small – even more accurate than the EU SCAR 11.

Vashkin was stunned, Sarov disbelieving, and the mercenary had a single eyebrow cocked.

“You want this?” Sarov stammered, holding out his FA-26 to Kosarkov, “It’s a classic. Original Krylov FA model. I’ll trade you for that one. Please?”

“Back off, Grigori. Give the man some space,” the mercenary admonished, glaring at his subordinate. Sarov took the hint and backed away, while the mercenary continued, “Incidentally, though, that thing shoots damn nice. Take good care of it. And no, don’t give it to anybody.”

Kosarkov had experienced a sudden epiphany upon firing the rifle. In his training, all he had done had been to fire old Krylov FA-37s on a firing range, or at fellow trainees using non-lethal training ammunition. Accuracy-wise, the guns had been subpar. This new tool, however, was different.

Kosarkov had never before felt empowered by a weapon, it was always his signature RDX that gave him battlefield confidence. But from witnessing the controllability and accuracy of his new assault rifle had made him reconsider his viewpoint on conventional weaponry. Perhaps he could learn to like shooting after all.

With much more enthusiasm he resumed his testing of the weapon’s various features including its four-shot burst, the myriad of accessories including a silencer, Herzog ammunition, nightvision mode on the scope and countless other methods. The saboteur gave his three companions a chance to use the weapon as well. When they had exhausted their interest, Kosarkov bid them farewell and returned to his quarters.

It seemed as though it was mainly the company of his fellow soldiers that had made him so enthusiastic, for as soon as the door to his room had shut, Kosarkov laid the rifle gently on a table and began to work again on that more subtle, somewhat underhanded, but deadly effective profession of sabotage.

The design was one he had been working on for several days. It was simple in concept but complex in execution due to several factors. As he examined the plans, model, and prototype of his design, he began to think of changes.

He opened the door to his cupboard, and pulled out three pieces of a weapon. Combining them, he created the frame of an EU SCAR 11.

He smiled to himself as he opened a box of tools, and set to work on a few modifications.