by P W Hillard
The wait felt like an eternity, the Paladins holding their breaths as they waited for the first shots to be fired. Furtive glances were cast towards the still-steaming pile of slag that had once been the doorway. The launch of the dropships raised uncomfortable questions. Either there was another base hidden somewhere on the planet, or this one was so large that it had a hanger hidden from sight. Neither was good news for the Paladins, it introduced the chance that the prisoners could be somewhere else or moved before they could reach them. Their only option was to deal with the enemy reinforcements and begin the search as quickly as possible.
Anya sent the mental command for her suit to squeeze the trigger, a thought working its way through neurocircuitry and into complex systems that interpreted it into action. Her two massive cannons lacked physical triggers, but mechsuits worked by interpreting the intent of the rider. Learning to control your thoughts was the basic skill behind riding a mech, but focusing your intent was something much subtler and more powerful, the ability that set apart professionals and amateurs.
Shells launched into the air, spat from spinning barrels at a frightening rate. Anya had been careful, timing her burst so that the dropship she was targeting would be flying directly into the salvo. It didn’t have time to turn away, the shot crashing into the cockpit and punching into the interior of the aircraft. The shredded body of a pilot slumped on the controls, sending the aircraft into a dive. It smashed into the ice, exploding in a fiery mushroom as fuel and ammunition ignited.
Switching targets Anya fired another burst at her next target. The dropship pilots, seeing the destruction of their comrade, had begun to jink about, shifting in the air to make them harder to hit. Anya’s shots went wide, her suit lacking the speed to track the movements of the dropship.
“Stay still damn you,” Anya muttered to herself, releasing another burst of fire. Like the last attempt, these sailed harmlessly through the air, the movements of her target proving difficult to follow.
Smoke suddenly began to pour from the dropship’s left rear engine. A second later the engine exploded, the aircraft listing to the side and falling to the ground. The left side crumbled as it collided with the ice, the crushed remnant of the dropship flipping onto its roof as the right engines spat out the last scraps of power.
“These things are hard to hit!” Meg said, reloading her weapon. She had adopted a different strategy to Anya, choosing to spray a constant stream rather than controlled bursts. Meg knew her weapon wasn’t as powerful as Anya’s, it was designed to engage light vehicles and infantry, so more luck was required to shoot down a dropship. Things were looking up for Meg, her weapon had struck one of the fragile engines.
“Still got one left.” Anya followed the last dropship as it continued its flight. It had swooped down low to the ground, the ice melting beneath the wash from its engines. Anya knew what it was trying to do, the maneuverer something she had done herself in the past. She took aim and fired.
It was too late. The doors at the bottom of the dropship had slid open, the mechs falling from the ship. It was a risky thing to do, deploying from an aircraft that was still moving at high speed. One of the four QT’s proved the danger, landing awkwardly, their right leg splitting from the combination of forces and sending the suit crashing to the ground. Their previous transport became a ball of fire, Anya’s shots punching through it, but its job was done, its payload delivered. The fireball crashed into the ice, coming to a stop near the wall of the compound.
“We’ve got three hostiles incoming, QT’s by the looks of it,” Meg said. She had taken cover behind the wall. The enemy reinforcements had begun firing immediately, chunks being torn from the concrete. “They seem pretty pissed.”
“Can’t say I blame them,” Alexi said. He moved from his position, taking up a spot between the two women. He snapped off a shot, then ducked behind the wall. “Feels like things have changed around. Now we’re the ones defending this base.”
“I wouldn’t say defending,” Meg said. “Occupying? That feels more apt.”
“We can argue about semantics later,” Xander said, stepping out from behind the warehouse he was using as cover, metal feet thudding against the concrete beneath them. “We came here to rescue people, remember? We need to deal with these mechs and get moving.”
“We could split up? Alexi and I can handle three QTs,” Anya said. “We can follow you in to support once we’re done.”
“I’m not a fan of splitting our forces. But I see your point. Ok, fine, Meg you’re with me. Good luck out here,” Xander said. He started moving towards the open doorway, walking backwards for a moment before twisting about to face the pile of melted metal.
“Try not to take too much of a beating,” Meg said, tapping Alexi on the shoulder, her metal fingers clanging against his hull.
Anya smiled within her cabin. “I’ll try and keep him in one piece.”
***
The area immediately behind the doorway was a tangled mass of metal, the defenders rushing to support destroyed by the rapid superheating of the doorway. It made Xander's push into the structure slow going, his suit having to step carefully over the half-melted remains of the enemy. He was shocked at the devastation his orders had wrought. There were six mechs that Xander could make out amongst the wreckage, and several chunks of steaming metal that were impossible to identify.
The tunnel itself had been bored into the ice, the glacier acting as its walls. Pipes snaked in and out of the surface, whilst human-sized doorways were placed intermittently along it.
“This is all rather…barbaric,” Matthias said with overbearing smugness.
“More barbaric than those railguns your suit had? Those made just as much of a mess and didn’t need a starship backing them up.” Xander didn’t have time for the AI’s gloating about a civilisation it didn’t remember.
“Hmph, I suppose.”
“Make yourself useful and keep your eyes out. See what you can work out about the tunnel.”
“I don’t have eyes, but I do understand what you’re trying to say. I will say I’m not designed for structural survey, but I can at least try to assist in some capacity,” Matthias said.
“Thanks, I'd rather that this tunnel didn't come collapsing down on our heads.” Xander continued his slow walk forward through the tangled mess. Not for the first time, he found himself impressed by Meg's agility as her mech moved nimbly ahead of him. It was impressive to watch the mercenary working in her element, scouting like she was trained to do.
“This goes on for quite some way, Cain. There's no way this is an overnight job. They've been building for a long time. A long, long time,” Meg said. She had switched on a set of head-mounted lights, the overhead lamps working intermittently in the tunnel itself, several of them damaged during the attack. “I mean, we've always known that Black Rose is a cut above the normal terrorist group, but this is crazy. Building secret bases, attacking space stations? Who is funding these guys?”
“She does have a point,” Matthias said. “These gentlemen do seem incredibly well-armed. They’re putting our nascent organisation to shame.”
Xander shut off his outgoing radio signal. “Our?”
“Yes well, I do consider myself a member of the Paladins. I was, after all, installed on the machine you've taken your name from.”
It was hard to argue with that. Xander switched his radio back on with a thought. “Honestly, this might be our best bet to find out, right? We're inside an enemy facility. If we're lucky we might find documents or files. The more we can learn, the better.”
“Thinking about that payday from selling intel?” Meg said.
“Well, the credits would be nice. But I mainly want to know from curiosity. It's a real-life conspiracy, right?”
“So, you’re one of those people who thinks the head of every corporation is a lizard person from beyond the dead stars?”
“The people of this area have encountered alien life?” Matthias said. He sounded gen
uinely intrigued, unaware of Meg’s sarcasm.
“Oh, very funny. No, there’s no such thing as aliens.”
“Aw.” Matthias sounded disappointed, an emotion he had never expressed before.
“Looks like the end of the tunnel is up ahead,” Meg said, snapping to a more professional tone. “There’s a metal platform, I think an elevator of some kind.”
“That would make sense. There are reinforcement pillars in the ice every four meters, yet I believe that this tunnel alone would not cause significant degradation to the ice to warrant such precautions.” Matthias highlighted the pillars in Xander’s vision, blue outlines forming around them. “Additional floors would require such support, so Miss Valis’s assertion that this is an elevator would seem correct.”
“You’re probably right,” Xander said, simplifying the information Matthias had pumped into his mind. “Hell, this is probably for equipment, there might be smaller ones for personnel through these doors.”
“Our prisoners could be through any of those as well. Where the hell do we go from here, Xander? What’s our next step.” Meg was sweeping her lights across the platform, inspecting it thoroughly like she expected it to collapse if she stepped onto it.
“We go down. The prisoners aren’t going to be on this top floor,” Xander said. He had caught up with Meg finally, the wreckage of the door and its defenders behind him.
“That’s a big guess.”
“It’s what I would do. If you have an apparently huge complex facility, you don’t hold prisoners on the outskirts. You put them at the heart, where they’re harder to get at.”
“See, this is why we pay you the big creds to make the decisions. You’ve got all that high society big merc company knowledge.”
“I get paid the big creds? That’s news to me. It implies we’ve got any credits to spare at all,” Xander stepped tentatively onto the elevator. It groaned under his weight but was stable enough otherwise. “Come on. We need to keep moving. Those two will be a while yet.”
The sound of battle was echoing down the tunnel. The tell-tale noise of Anya’s cannons ringing through the air. Xander was confident his companions would triumph. Black Rose riders had repeatedly proven to be no match for mercenaries in a relatively even fight.
“Fifteen minutes,” Meg said.
“You think fifteen? I’ll say twelve. Fifty creds on it?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“I would estimate, from prior performance, that the combat outside will cease in ten minutes and eight seconds. Alas, I have no credits with which to bet,” Matthias said, setting three counters running in the corner of Xander's vision. “Perhaps we should discuss some remuneration for my services.”
MediCare Autopsy report – August 16th, 1422-YR
Autopsy completed in MediCare Medical Superstore, Athena IV
Completing physician Dr Hector Augustine.
“Subject appears to be an adult male, late twenties to early thirties. Extensive bodily modifications make pinpointing an exact age difficult. Subject has undergone multiple intrusive cybernetic modifications, above and beyond what is standard for a mechsuit rider. In addition, the subject appears to suffer from alopecia universalis. Though it is possible that this is a pre-existing condition, my initial hypothesis is that it is a side effect of an autoimmune response provoked by the intrusive additional wetware.
Cause of death appears to be a fragment of metal that has impaled the centre torso. I would assume the result of damage to a mechsuit. I suspect major internal organ damage, though I can’t be certain until we open him up and begin the internal autopsy. Can you pass me the bone saw please, Jack? Thanks. Recording will cease whilst work is commencing.”
***
“Cause of death can now be confirmed to be major internal organ damage. Interestingly I found no trace of cybernetics within the body itself. The extent of this person’s modifications are to the brain only. It’s just my opinion but if you’re going to undergo such obvious procedures, then it seems strange to stop short there.
The modifications on the brain themselves are deep-set. The numerous ports on the skull all connect to the brain in the same manner as a standard wetware connection, though the exact locations of those connections differ. It is unlikely these additional implants are used to control mechsuits, or indeed any machinery. Their purpose remains, to me at least, a mystery. I have already arranged for the brain and its attachments to be sent to Medicare research and development for study.
Further examination has revealed that the subject’s skin is not its original colour. It seems to have been purged of nearly all its pigment, though by what and why I have no idea. If it is an intentional change, I can’t fathom its purpose. It is possible that it is some form of vitiligo and like the alopecia brought on by the implantation. It will require further study of more subjects before a cause can be determined.
I would recommend that all Medicare units in the field attempt to capture these…Black Rose soldiers, alive where possible. Further study may shed light into their strangeness.”
Chapter Seventeen
A clang rang out as a round hit the black paint of an advancing mechsuit. The shot bounced off, crashing into the ice nearby and sending white shards into the air. The gleam of metal was visible on the mech where the shell had skipped off its sloped plates, scratching away the black. It returned fire, launching a burst towards its opponent. The machine was still trying to find its footing after the impact and the shots went wide, thudding into the nearby glacier. Smoke and fire swirled around it, the burning fuel from the crashed dropships fighting valiantly against the cold.
“They’re getting better!” Alexi said, ducking behind the wall, his armour scraping against the concrete in a shower of sparks. “These ones might actually hit us.”
“Are they getting better or are you just getting worse?” Anya was firing over the wall with her shoulder-mounted cannon, making the most of her new weapon. It had already claimed one of the Black Rose mechs as they raced across the ice, evening the numbers on both sides.
“Maybe both?” The magazine dropped from Alexi’s weapon and he slapped another into the now empty slot.
“You take the left, I take the right?” Anya said, shots still spitting out of her cannon.
“Our right or their right?”
“Ours? Why would it be theirs?”
Alexi tucked his weapon to his shoulder, readying himself to fight. “Just checking.” He opened a panel on his leg revealing the magazines contained inside. Nestled next to them were brick shaped objects. Alexi pulled one free and pushed it against the wall, the brick flattening like clay as it stuck. He placed on another, before backing away from the wall. Anya followed him, taking a few steps back. “Ready?” Alexi said.
“Always.” The head unit of Anya’s mech nodded as it translated her instinctive impulse.
Alexi sent the radio command to the bricks, the plastic explosive blasting outwards and shattering the concrete forming a new breach. Dust and stone filled the air, the already damaged wall fragmenting instantly.
The two mercenaries stormed through, Anya taking the lead in her heavier suit. She stepped to the left as she passed through, snapping off shots with her shoulder cannon. The dust from the explosion covered her camera, obscuring her view, but Anya fired anyway. She knew the enemy would be on the back foot, the inexperienced riders not expecting the two mercs to blow a hole in the wall defending them. Anya unleashed a burst at a shadow moving in the dust and heard the satisfying noise of rounds connecting with armour, followed by the flash of a secondary explosion.
“How’s it going on your side, Alexi?”
“It’s…going.” There was the clang of metal hitting metal as Alexi swung his arm, batting away the QT’s weapon, a shot thudding into the ground. There had been a few missed shots in the dust as the mercenary and terrorist had moved towards each other. Now they were face to face, each wrestling to get an angle on each other.
A
lexi felt his opponent place their hand on his weapon, mirroring his tactics. The two machines groaned as their motors fought against each other. The two suits were evenly matched, forcing a tense stalemate between their riders.
“Fuck this,” Alexi said.
There was an explosion, a gout of fury and flame. From the launcher on his shoulder, Alexi had fired a missile, the weapon hitting the machine before him at point-blank range, engulfing the two of them in smoke and fire. The sickening noise of tearing metal followed, and Alexi stepped backwards, his mechsuit covered in pitch-black soot. In his hand, he held his opponent's weapon, their now severed arm still clutching the grip.
Pressing his advantage, Alexi fired at the QT, the machine stumbling backwards from the force of the explosion. His shots landed but skipped off the armour, the twisting of the Black Rose mech as it struggled to find its footing working to its advantage. Frustrated, Alexi dropped his rifle and in one slick movement pulled his field knife free, the compartment popping open with perfect timing.
He charged, his right hand holding the knife tight. The blade sizzled with latent power, light flaring as the swirling dust struck the normally invisible energy field. Confident in striking a lethal blow, Alexi lunged, looking to sink the knife into the cabin of his enemy.
There was a loud screeching noise, a sound that Alexi knew but hadn’t heard in a long while. The enemy mech had produced a knife, raising its blade to meet his, parrying the blow. The terrible wailing noise was the sound of the two energy fields fighting against each other. Sparks leapt from where the knives met, terrible energies battling for dominance. This rider was a cut above the usual Black Rose member. They were getting better, learning from their battles, sharpening the dull edge of inexperience. Within his cabin Alexi smiled, his enemy was better than most, but still not good enough.
Alexi launched a fierce kick with his left leg, the heavy slab of metal that was his foot crashing into the back of his opponent’s knee. The QT lost its footing, falling backwards and hitting the ground with a thundering crash. Alexi followed up his attack instantly, diving onto the fallen mech, planting his knees onto its torso to prevent it from moving. He pressed his knife to the QT, the blade taking a few agonising seconds to cut through the thick front armour. Alexi felt the knife jerk downwards suddenly as the resistance stopped, a sure-fire sign that the blade had broken through the armour and into the cabin within. It would be fatal instantly for the rider. Even if the knife didn’t strike them directly, the energy field released a tremendous amount of heat, enough to flash cook anything instantly.