Edge World (Undying Mercenaries Series Book 14)

by B. V. Larson

“I very much hope that you’re right,” Helsa said, then she sauntered off.

  Harris and I watched her walk away. Harris whistled. “You sure can pick ‘em, boy. You always could.”

  “You got that right.”

  Time wore on. Right about when we were beginning to think they weren’t going to come at us again—they began to advance.

  This time, they weren’t all choked up and approaching in a tight mass. They came in a widely dispersed pattern from every direction.

  Graves countered by bombarding them at random with the star-falls. He punched a hole in every thin wave they sent—but they were determined. Suffering horrid losses, they kept on coming closer.

  The mummies coming out of the east landed the first blow. They seemed to be faster-moving than their strange brethren from the cold side of the planet. The lines that reached close enough to fire on Fike’s Blood Worlders launched what looked like a mortar attack.

  A thousand lights like fast flares rose up and came down again in the midst of Fike’s trench lines. The strikes were incendiary, and they lit up a lot of good men who burned alive from the inside out.

  “That’s phosphorus!” Harris declared, watching the vid feeds. “Or something like it. Nasty stuff.”

  A few minutes later, it was our turn. The night-siders got close enough for our small arms to reach them, and we obliged with a hailstorm of power-bolts, snap-rifle rounds and belcher fire. Hundreds of the enemy fell thrashing—but the rest kept up their advance.

  “McGill!” Barton called into my ear. “Something’s happening back at the town!”

  “That’s not our problem. Adjunct Leeson keep 88s ready to fire the second they get a little closer…”

  As if they’d heard me and sensed the imminent danger, the beetle-like night-siders rose up as one and charged us.

  “Holy shit,” Harris said. “Look at them run!”

  It was true. The enemy must have been crouching and crawling slowly before. Either they’d figured that was safer, or they were only able to move fast for a short period of time. Whatever the case, they were now moving much faster.

  “They’re running thirty clicks an hour—forty!” Harris declared.

  “Leeson, it’s time to open up!” I shouted. “Give them a good taste with the 88s!”

  All along our line, I saw other units begin to beam the enemy lines that were nearest to them. Leeson, however, was still holding his fire. I gritted my teeth. I wanted to order him to fire—but it was his call. That’s how I ran my unit. After all, he’d been fighting for Legion Varus when I was in diapers.

  At last, the sickly green beams came to life. Two of the 88s began to sing, one to my left and one to my right. Each reached out with their deadly rays and began to sweep toward the other.

  The bugs were cooked in their shells. They reeled in shock. Making an odd, desperate whistling sound that I could just hear over the din of battle, they ran around in random circles for a moment before falling in a shivering heap.

  We killed a thousand—two thousand. I dared to let the corner of my mouth twitch up, the beginnings of a grin. They weren’t going to make it to us.

  “McGill!”

  My head snapped around. That voice—it was Barton. She was in trouble, or freaked out, or something. That cry had been so long and desperate…

  I saw it then. How could I have stayed so focused on the charging enemy right in front of me for so long? It was every commander’s job to pay attention to the whole battlefield, to get the bigger picture and decide what to do about it before it twisted around and bit him in the ass.

  Barton was pointing her long arm at the town behind us—which was in flames. Somehow, the enemy had gotten past us, into our center. Could Fike’s sub-legion have failed us so utterly? I didn’t know, but I had to find out.

  -51-

  “All cohorts,” Graves said, speaking over command chat. “Break off one unit from your defensive positions and send it to the center, on the double.”

  Winslade’s voice spoke up next. “What’s happening, Graves?” he demanded. “Is it treachery, or a bombardment, or—”

  “I’m not sure, Winslade. There’s fighting going on in the dome city. I’ve tried to contact Kattra, but I’m not getting a response. I repeat, all cohorts—”

  Another voice broke in, talking over him. It was Galina Turov.

  I knew she’d been overseeing the battle from above. She’d let Graves handle the fight up until this moment. She must be seriously worried if she was going to step on his operational toes now.

  “Fike!” she called out. “What is your status?”

  “The enemy have engaged us, but I believe we’re winning for now. Our losses—”

  “I don’t care about losses. Graves? Are all your defensive positions holding?”

  “Yes, Tribune. For now.”

  “All right, then I approve of your plan to pull back a reserve force. You should have thought of that earlier. Whatever you do, don’t let the enemy destroy my star-falls!”

  That thought was a grim one. I hadn’t even considered it, but she was right. The star-fall artillery troops were basically a few hundred lightly armed specialists that were trained to run the big guns. If a real combat unit got into the middle of them… well, it would be a slaughter.

  “Winslade,” I said, speaking over tactical chat, which didn’t hit the whole legion, “I’ll go. My zone is pretty much clear now, anyway.”

  “Not alone, you won’t,” Helsa told me. She passed me by and trotted away, vanishing among the rocks. She had a determined look in her eye.

  “Negative, McGill,” Winslade said. “Hold your position.”

  My eyes slid after Helsa. Coming to a decision, I trotted after her.

  Her step was light and quick. Mine was heavy and thumping. Due to my longer stride, I soon caught up.

  We ran to where the combat drones were still crouching. Helsa signaled the twenty odd handlers she’d brought with her to ride herd on her robots. With a wave and a whistle, she had them all up and marching in a minute or two.

  “Uh…” I said, watching her and her team work. “What are you up to, Helsa?”

  “I should never have left her. I was a fool.”

  “Huh…?”

  Lifting my tapper to my face, I contacted Winslade again. “Sir? I think we have a problem. Helsa and her combat drones are pulling out.”

  “What? Stay right there, McGill, and I’d better not find out this is your doing!”

  “No sir, I’d never—” I stopped talking, because he’d cut off the connection.

  “Helsa?” I asked. “Where are you going, exactly?”

  “Can you truly be so ignorant? I was told this was the case, but I didn’t place much credit in the claim. I attributed such statements to petty jealousies and malicious jokes—but after spending the day with you, I’m no longer certain.”

  “That’s right. I’m six kinds of a moron. Border-line retarded on a good day. But if you’re planning on taking your drones back to the city, I think you ought to at least tell us you’re doing it.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me.

  All around us the drones were up now, stretching their pointy-legs and whirring.

  “Don’t try to stop me, McGill. You’ll only gain yourself a quick trip through a revival machine.”

  “Don’t I know it,” I said easily. “So you are making a run to your home town?”

  “Obviously. Stand aside.”

  I weighed my options. Winslade had said I had to stop her. I could do it, of course. I could kill her fast and maybe—just maybe—survive the onslaught afterward. After all, I was wearing my Glass World armor.

  Heaving a sigh, I tossed the idea aside. What would be the point? I was pretty sure that killing Helsa wasn’t going to get these combat drones or their handlers to calmly return to their posts and support us in any upcoming action.

  After watching me for a moment to see what I’d do, she nodded to me and ran off. A few hund
red drones and minders rushed after her.

  Winslade showed up about then.

  “McGill, damn you, man! I told you to stop her!”

  “Right, sir. I’m on it.”

  Unslinging my morph rifle, I took careful aim. I even flipped up my long-range reticle to zoom in on Helsa’s back.

  Just when I was about to squeeze off a shot, Winslade shoved the muzzle of my gun down.

  “Are you insane? I didn’t order you to shoot her!”

  “Uh… how else would you suggest I stop her, sir? She’s moving fast, and she didn’t show any interest in listening to my thoughts on the matter.”

  Winslade released a little growl. “Very well. Go after her. Take your whole unit—minus Leeson and his artillery. We’ll have to hold the enemy back without your help.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  I began running after Helsa. Using my tapper, I summoned my unit to follow.

  There was a whole bunch of grumbling to be heard. Harris was the loudest, he never liked a sudden change of plan.

  Soon, however, Barton and her lights caught up with me. With my gear, I couldn’t outrun them. A moment later, I slowed my pace and let Harris and his heavies catch up.

  “Barton, keep up with Helsa if you can.”

  “It will be a challenge, sir. She’s really moving.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  We ran hard for about twenty long minutes. That’s hard to do in full kit, even when you’re in shape—which my troops were.

  “They’re stopping. That crazy bitch is stopping at last,” Harris panted. His breath blew over his mic in blasts.

  “McGill—?” Barton called out. “Helsa is right ahead of us—her drones are lighting up!”

  “Good God, what is she shooting at?” Harris demanded.

  I soon saw what the fuss was about. Up ahead, a firefight had broken out. Graves and his brigade of star-falls were there, and they were under attack.

  At first, I thought Helsa was going to fire on Graves with her combat drones—but then I saw the real enemy.

  Boiling out of the dome city, hundreds of figures raced toward Graves and the drones. The figures were humanoid—but not human.

  They were taller than men, and heavier. Each of them wore a combat harness, a heavy rifle—and behind every trooper dragged a long, scaly tail.

  -52-

  “Armel’s saurians!” I roared over command chat. “All units, the lifters are under attack. Armel has gotten behind our lines somehow.”

  “McGill,” Turov said. “Graves appears to be dead. You’ve got to save those star-falls. Get them aboard a lifter if you can.”

  “Roger that, Tribune.”

  Fortunately, I wasn’t alone. Helsa had led me here at a dead run, but there were lots of other units converging on this spot to help. They’d all be here in five to ten minutes.

  But in an all-out fire-fight, as any veteran could tell you, five to ten minutes was more than a lifetime.

  “Unit,” I called out over tactical chat. “Get in among the star-falls. Protect them at all costs.”

  Helsa wasn’t listening to me, naturally. Her concern was the dome city. She advanced to meet the saurians, providing the perfect distraction. Barton reached the star-fall brigade just as the saurians began laying down fire on them—but that soon stopped.

  I could tell that the saurian commander had orders to destroy the star-falls, but Helsa and her drones could not be ignored. The robots whirred and rose up, standing tall on their tripod of legs. They began to methodically beam the saurian troops into smoking ruin.

  Wheeling to face this threat, the saurians returned fire. They weren’t heavily armed, fortunately. Each one wore a teleport harness and carried a heavy-rifle—that was pretty much it.

  The bad thing was they had the numbers on us. I had to estimate Armel had thrown a full cohort into this thrust for our heart. Worse, the saurians were well-trained. They put up a good fight. They threw grav grenades, then they raced in close and flipped over the combat drones. Their broad backs heaved with scaled muscle.

  In the meantime, I gathered my troops and had them take cover among the star-falls.

  “You want to try to turn these cannons on the enemy?” Harris asked hopefully.

  I frowned at him. “At this range, we’d blast the drones and the lizards to fragments—hell, we might even blow ourselves up.”

  Harris nodded and gave me an up-down twitch of his bushy eyebrows. I could tell he didn’t give a single shit about the drones. He wanted to save his own skin.

  “No,” I said after considering it for a moment. “Barton, have your snipers pick off a saurian whenever you can. The rest of you hold your fire until we can tell whose winning.”

  The struggle went on for a full minute. After that, the two sides began to separate. I could tell right off what was happening—Helsa was withdrawing, heading toward the dome city.

  Now, I could understand that. She wanted to see what kind of damage was going on back there. She wanted to save her town. But I was sorry to see her go.

  The saurians broke off, not following the Shadowlanders.

  “Shit,” I said, “Harris, about that idea of yours…”

  “I’ve been working on it, Centurion. Just give the order.”

  Baring my teeth. I nodded. “Fire one blast—one star-fall. Go!”

  He rushed away, and the saurians turned to face us. All along, while they’d been battling the robots, Barton had been sniping. They were finally going to get their revenge, and they knew it.

  “Turov?” I called. “Come in, command.”

  “What is it, McGill? Have you defeated those damned lizards yet?”

  “Uh… not exactly. Helsa took off on me, and my reinforcements aren’t here yet—the saurians are about to rush me.”

  “Oh fuck… McGill, don’t let them destroy my star-falls!”

  “Roger that, sir.”

  I disconnected. She was no help at all. I’d kind of been thinking she could order a bombardment or something—but that was against the rules, I remembered. We’d agreed to keep the conflict going entirely on the surface of the planet. No broadsides, no air support—no nothing.

  “Harris!” I shouted. The saurians were firing now, and the crack of their big rifles was startlingly loud. The big bullets struck all around us. Stones split, and the sands jumped. The star-falls were being punched through with holes.

  Star-falls weren’t overly tough and difficult to destroy. Being energy weapons, they were relatively delicate. They weren’t made of heavy metals. Complex circuitry, portable fusion generators and polymer projection cones—that’s pretty much all they were. The saurian bullets weren’t sophisticated, but they could punch a hole into our artillery pieces from a hundred meters off, no problem.

  “Fire in the hole!” a tech screamed.

  Everyone threw themselves prone, except for two of Barton’s light troopers. The big, slow blast of energy dazzled everyone’s eyes. Purple splotchy afterimages lingered, and they couldn’t be blinked away.

  When I could see again, I noticed the two light troopers were gone. One smoking boot, that was all that was left. They’d gotten in the path of the star-fall projectile.

  The ball of energy flew dramatically at the saurian line. They tried to dodge—but their doom wasn’t that slow. It flew at something like the speed of a fastball back home.

  The jagged sphere of energy splashed down in the midst of the enemy. A hundred or more were struck dead. Another hundred were burned and left rolling around to put out flames. Others staggered in shock. Into this mess, we fired a hailstorm of rifle rounds.

  The enemy losses were terrific, but it wasn’t enough to stop them. They’d had a thousand men, and now they’d been reduced to half that—but they still outnumbered us five to one.

  Those saurians who’d managed to rush wide, who tried to flank us—they survived. They came sweeping in now, firing and advancing.

  We returned fire, and although I
expected to be wiped out, I was surprised at how many of us were still alive. We were all under cover now. Both sides were fighting on our bellies, hugging the ground in any shallow depression we could find to hide in.

  “They’re really shitty shots, sir,” Harris laughed. “Blind as bats if you ask me.”

  “Maybe that ball of lightning you threw into them blinded them,” I agreed.

  But then I had a sudden, terrible thought. I looked up and back, over my shoulder, at the star-falls.

  Many of them were damaged. They looked like big light bulbs with black star-shaped holes punched into them.

  “They aren’t shooting for us,” I shouted. “They’re destroying our artillery!”

  “Huh… You’re right. But if we hold on the cavalry will be here soon.”

  In the near distance, more human units were approaching from various angles. Already, they were laying down suppressive snap-rifle fire from range.

  I glanced again at the star-falls. Another one shattered and sagged. Then a saurian stood up and threw a grav grenade. He’d wormed up close enough to do it. The blue strobing ball of light fell into our midst. Two of Barton’s men and another artillery piece were destroyed.

  Snarling, I decided I’d had enough.

  “3rd Unit!” I roared. “All heavies, stand and charge the enemy! Lights, hold your position, and keep sniping!”

  “Oh shit…” I heard Harris say.

  A moment later, what remained of my command rose up and charged.

  I was proud of my men. Sure, they weren’t happy about my orders—but they obeyed.

  Thirty-odd heavy troopers sucked their last collective, ragged breath. They all cursed my mamma something awful—but they charged.

  -53-

  I took a big round to the guts right off—but that didn’t do the trick. I was blown backwards onto my butt. I groaned back to my feet again and shivved a surprised saurian. He must have thought I was dead—and in truth, I might have been out for a few seconds due to shock. I’m not exactly sure.

  Running my sizzling force-blade into the charging lizard, I shoved him off with a boot and then met two more. They shot me and stabbed me—but nothing went through my armor. I killed them both, and I was left reeling and growling in pain.