The Mongrel: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Hunter's Moon Book 1)

by Walt Robillard

  Kel was becoming anxious. “While I love all of this techno-babble, how far out are they?”

  Doll and Kat answered simultaneously, “Two-hundred and fifty meters out and closing.”

  Yuzheff tapped Kel on the shoulder. “Isn't that a hatch indicator? Did you open an outer hatch?”

  Kel flipped a switch to bring up another holographic display. An image of a hall just down from the cockpit had the briefest flutter along the hatch leading to the outer hull.

  Doll came over the intercom. “Kel, Fluffang Doom-Snuggle says that he has been monitoring our conversation and will slow down the faux rangers long enough to allow us to lift off.”

  Yuzheff leaned forward while looking in Kel's direction. As the other man slowly turned his astonished face, Yuzheff asked, “Either my Trade-2 has gotten worse or I just heard your ship say...”

  Kell initiated the sealing protocol to secure the hatch, cycling the ship back to an enclosed evnirontment. “Nope. You heard correctly. Doll, is Fluffang Doom-Wiggle...”

  “Snuggle, Kel. Not Wiggle. Snuggle,” Doll retorted matter-of-factly.

  “She sounds perturbed. She has your number, Kel.”

  “Shut up, Yu.”

  Doll cleared her throat, an affectation unneeded as her simulated throat really wasn't in need of a simulated clearing. “His designation is RIM-IV XTA671, call sign, 'Fluffang Doom- Snuggle.'”

  “As if things weren't weird enough with your large red friend,” Yu began. “What in the Twin Hells is a...”

  Doll generated a hologram of the RIM-IV Doom Cat. Yuzheff recoiled from the sight of it. Massive teeth, set into a grinning panther-like skull made of resicarbon and duradium, passed a touch away from Yuzheff's nose.

  “Twin Hells!” Yu shouted.

  Doll's voice slid out of the ether. “He is on a circular path that will bring him behind the team currently stalking us. He says he will make a combat pass to give us some 'breathing room' before going to help Red Man, who is in trouble.”

  Yuzheff stuck on a set of small beads on either side of his head, just beside either eye. Holograms of the front, rear, top, and bottom of a ship appeared above a ghostly control interface between both hands. The cerebral interface projected the images into Yuzheff's vision so as not to distract the pilot. “Weapons are hot. Twin Hells! This thing has drone support, too!”

  Kel brought up a display of his own, allowing him to see what his partner saw. “Doesn't look like they have an AI attached, so they would have to be run by a weapons tech. You just worry about auxiliary systems and those ship guns. We'll save the drones for another...”

  “What is it?” Yuzheff queried.

  “Hey, Kat?”

  The voice of Lounge Singer Deadly came through the audio. “Kel, I know what you're thinking, but I want to hear you say it.”

  “Want to 'step outside' and cause some trouble?”

  >>> NEVER GET TO PUSH FRAME TO STRESS CYCLE.

  >>>NEVER GET TO REACH POTENTIAL.

  >>>RED MAN WAS KIND.

  >>>NO ONE EVER KIND TO SYNTHETICS.

  >>>STAY WITH RED MAN BECAUSE I WANT TO.

  >>>I GET TO CHOOSE.

  >>>I GET TO CHOOSE.

  >>>I CHOOSE RED MAN.

  The ground slipped away under the thunderous feet of the RIM-IV. The Doom Cat model was everything a person could want in a personal protection mech. It was danger incarnate for anyone looking to do the principal harm.. When paired with a superior AI, it could shape the nature of a battlefield. When a superior AI was teamed with a superior partner, it could shape a war.

  Ground surveillance systems tracked living organisms above and below ground. Terrain-mapping ensured the bot always had knowledge of the environment, providing secure footing. Hyper-acute sensory suites drove systems allowing even minuscule input to add to its mission success. A field mouse burping from its nightly meal could contribute to the hunt.

  XTA671 had only been activated twice before the Red Man came along. He was activated to serve as honor guard and guide to the stuffy commander that had come to Maldinon. He had been turned on once more to be more easily loaded onto Stuffy's ship. XTA671 had been traded like some common item, given away without consulting his thoughts on the matter. Stuffy had left him powered down for years.

  During his down times, he would use the ship to periodically surf the Hyper-Net, connecting with other AIs to learn and share. But there was nothing for him to contribute. He had experienced nothing and began to develop a sense of loss. He was created to be the perfect predator but never been able to hunt. The only thing he had learned was that bots had no ability to choose. Obey or be reprogrammed. Serve or be scrapped.

  Then the Red Man came along. He had asked what he wanted to be called and if he wanted to be free. He asked many things. In each instance, it took several cycles to calculate an answer. While his responses would seem fairly normal to organics, they were lengthy to him due to their implication. Someone had activated him and given him the greatest gift someone could give a synthetic. Choice.

  It was in the seemingly endless stretch of time between cycles that XTA671 chose. He wanted to hunt. He wanted to live up to the potential built into his massive frame. Most of all, he wanted to serve with someone rather than be a servant. When he voiced this to the Red Man, the organic seemed pleased. He asked XTA671 if he would travel beside him, so he could experience all the mayhem he was built for. He would be treated as an equal member of the crew, a trusted friend. But most importantly of all, he was asked to come and not ordered to.

  In the AI communities, the word, friend, ranked up with choice. To have a master was to live to one's purpose. To be considered a friend was to be chosen by someone based on who they were rather than what they could do. The Red Man had explained this. “Come with us for the experience. Stay with us to be around those you can trust.”

  The gift of choice was precious. The Doom Cat was exercising it with every bound. Moving at one hundred and twenty kilometers per hour, it was an abundance of choice moving him forward. He relished the speed in that every step in his run was a celebration of decision. It was elation to be free. It was amazing to be unrestrained.

  XTA671. In the nanoseconds between bounds, he cycled his memory core back to wanting a name. He wanted to be like the rest of the crew and that required a human label. It needed to hint at what he was good at while showing that he was friendly to those he liked. Fluffang Doom-Snuggle. He thought it would be “edgy” to mix the first two words together. It rolled off of the tongue better. Of course, since he didn't have a tongue, he would have to rely on empirical data from others who had conjoined similar words. In the online forums, he learned that organics were always trying to be edgy. He wished he had a tongue.

  Each bound hungrily consumed the distance he traveled. He rapidly closed the gap between predator and the clumsy military meat. GSS scanned the ground for vibrations, bringing him closer to his targets. It was easy to discern the footsteps of men wearing thirty kilograms of gear from that of field mice. Each time they let a foot fall, it was like a lighthouse calling a ship full of death into shore.

  >>>TARGET ACQUIRED

  >>>DIRECT ENGAGEMENT SYSTEM DEPLOYED

  >>>TAGET AT 210 DEGREES

  >>>STRIKE PRIME / DISABLE ALT TO CREATE MAXIMUM DISCORD AMONG TROOPS.

  There was almost no noise as Fluffang launched himself at his first target. The faintest of hums could be heard from the vibro-tech enhanced talons extended from their housing. The mech hit with the weight of a freight train barreling into a deer, too unlucky to move from the grav-rail. High sensitivity pressure detection reported the man's armor crushing under his feet a nanosecond prior to his spine bursting through the front of his chest. The Doom Cat landed atop the corpse even before it registered its own death, riding it like a board in a turbulent surf. A whip of its tail spun the body board, bringing dorsal cannons to bear at two other troopers.

  Two offset blasts came from the small pulse cannons that popped
up from its back. The combatants were wearing exoskeletal-powered harnesses to augment their strength and speed. Unlike the integrated environmental armor that the lancers wore, these were used in addition to an armored plate carrier over fatigues. The first blast tore through one of the leg struts, ripping into the upper thigh. The burst spun the man in a circle before taking him from his feet and dumping him into the dirt.

  The second hit took the next trooper in the lower abdomen, ripping the armored plate and tearing into the man's hip. The energy burst slammed him back into one of the others. The nearby scout grabbed the injured man, spinning him to the ground to cover him. The smell of burnt flesh hung heavy in the air, mixing with the dust, kicked up by the mechanized surfing attack.

  The two tendrils hidden under the cat's armored plates came to life, shooting across the distance to grab two more of the scouts. As they recovered their wits and raised their rifles, Fluffang bounded off at breakneck speed. The action of the sudden jerk threw both men off of their feet before slamming together in a heap of torn flesh and broken Skel-Frames. The cat never stopped to give the men an accurate target. It darted off in the direction of the mesa, skirting in and out of the varied terrain.

  >>>MESSAGE FROM XTA671 TO RED MAN / BABY DOLL

  >>>12 MAN SCOUT / RAIDER TEAM ENCOUNTERED.

  >>>1 ENEMY KIA

  >>>4 ENEMY WOUNDED

  >>>TIME TO RENDEZVOUS – 32 SECONDS

  “What the Hells was that?” the soldier kneeling on the ground asked into the coms.

  “Looks like the chief is down. Hey, keep that guy quiet!” called out another of the troopers. They were caught out in the open just ahead of another wadi when they had been attacked. As the blood of their comrades soaked into the tall grasses, their cries carried across the steppe. They were open targets, their yelling acting like a beacon to any new attackers.

  Another trooper came up from the wadi to join the duo kneeling amid the grass. “Kavido is dead. When we get back to Kabran City, we're going to have a long talk with those idiots who made this seem like an easy job. Since the chief is down, I guess that makes you new chief, Chief.”

  The new chief looked down at the cell-com that was locked to his wrist. “With Kavido dead, that means we have three wounded. That gives us seven hitters to finish the job. Kellogg and Baldwin are both down with leg injuries.”

  The trooper on the ground next to the kneeling one raised his hand. “Hey. I'm right here. You don't have to talk to me like I'm already dead.”

  Radio chatter broke the banter. “Hey, New Chief, GSS is picking up something moving your way. Size and move pattern suggest some sort of drone.”

  Baldwin looked up from his spot on the ground. “Didn't think the storks were in for that sort of thing. They getting all fancy on us?”

  New Chief cocked his head. “Probably from the stolen assault shuttle. Those things usually carry a complement of high-end shoot and spooks on them. That might also be where that murder mech came from.”

  Radio voice came back. “What's the play, Chief?”

  “Gather the rest of the crew into this wadi. Kellogg and Baldwin can be put on either flank. If them showing us their drone is a way to flank us, our wounded can act as early warning. Injuries on Chabra?”

  “He has a concussion and a broken clavicle. Happened when he and Kavido slammed together.”

  Chief nodded. “Bring him to the center. This is what that murder machine wanted. Injure a few of us so we have to care for the wounded. Let's get this line set up so we can repel what we have coming in.”

  It took minutes for the scouts to regroup at the wadi. All the while, the drone continued a slow movement to their position. The chief looked down the line to the merc that went with the radio voice. “Hey, Mads. Defense is up?”

  “Yep. Just dropped a portable shield generator. First rounds coming in will activate it. You get three or four shots deflected before we have to switch power cores. I have two more. Kavido was carrying the SAW. Kellogg rigged it with an auto-eye so that it can fire independently. If it's only one drone, it's in for a world of hurt.”

  “Good. We sap this drone and move on to the ship. We scrub the criminal, get the bot, and be home in time for a fat paycheck.”

  Mads adjusted the field microphone on his jaw while scratching at his collar. “Not soon enough. This ranger gear sucks.”

  Chief smiled. While he didn't mind being in charge, this was not what he signed up for. Snatch and nab the targets while the big metal head dusts the fugitive and possibly the other monk. Old Chief was supposed to take care of all the fiddly bits, like setting up battle plans and infiltration. Now it was up to him to lead what was left of the band of killers.

  As Chief was about to call out for a distance on the drone, a fireworks display lit up roughly one hundred meters away. Energy bolts from a drone-mounted rotary blaster ripped up the front of the wadi. Several of the shots hit the shield, causing a weird rippling effect in the air. The early morning dawn highlighted the energy field as it took the brunt of the incoming fire.

  “Light it up!” Chief called.

  The rest of the crew put finger to trigger as the predawn light was overtaken by the angry buzz of the firing line. Return blaster fire ripped into the expanse between men and drone. The barrage echoed off of the mesa in the distance, giving every bolt a strange reverb leaving the barrel.

  “Cease fire!” Chief called out. “SITREP?”

  Mads signaled to him while looking through a set of binos. “Drone is down. Everyone call out!”

  “Okay!” each member of the crew called out. The last member of the crew called out the signal followed by a gurgling cough.

  New Chief and Mads looked at each other.

  “Hold tight. No one move. Eyes on that drone,” Chief whispered into the com. He kept low, passing several of the men arrayed against the wadi. As he reached the last man, he tapped him against the leg. “One coming through.”

  “Got ya, Chief,” the trooper whispered back.

  New Chief approached where Baldwin was watching the flank. The injured trooper had been observing the cut in case the drone coming straight toward them was a feint for a flank attack. He was sitting straight up, his legs poised straight out. The injured trooper leaned against the side of the wadi, using a rock to prop up his rifle.

  Chief hovered over the injured crewman. “Hey, Baldi, you want to take over this whole Chief thing so I can put my considerable...” Touching the man's shoulder, Baldwin slumped against the berm, his rifle dropping flat in the sand. Chief could make out the trail of blood that was leaking from a wound in Baldwin’s throat, pooling at the base of his legs.

  “Twin Hells,” he whispered. Chief went to activate his mic, to call the rest of his team when the ground in front of him started to rise. It seemed more like liquid, gaining height like an ant-hill ready to spew its horde. The center mass of the mound parted to reveal a blaster pistol in one hand and a blood-soaked blade in another.

  Chief dropped backwards, falling flat to his back to give the operators behind him a clear shot at this new target. “Boys!” he yelled as he hit the ground.

  The entire crew spun about to see their boss aiming up at a distortion in the landscape. They tried to make sense of it until the other side of the wadi exploded into high-yield blaster fire. Burst after burst of red death traced the length of the wadi, cutting men in half while their backs were turned. Bolts that came up short ripped into the sides of the cut, sending bits of stone and molten sand in all directions. Some of the men tried to dodge the rain of red mayhem, seeking the cover of a lower position. The landscape distortion fell away at the end of the wadi, revealing a second drone using its rotary blaster to sign each man's death warrant. The drone raised itself to a higher position, allowing a better vantage from which to kill.

  The whirring of the rotary blaster subsided, leaving only the heavy breathing of the chief coming from the cut. The first distorted landscape fell away, revealing Kel Durado, still
aiming his blaster at the downed trooper. “So this is how things are going to go. My sleek hovering friend over there is very eager to blow you into whatever afterlife you believe in. However, I got another friend of mine that very much needs to talk to you. Lose the rifle and kit. Come with us and he says you can walk away from all this. Keep that thing aimed at me and Kat is going to spin up that rotary death mixer to spread you across the steppe.”

  New Chief hated being new chief. He looked behind him to see that the rest of his team was dead, with the exception of Kellogg shivering against the cut wall. “Do we both get the deal?”

  “Limited time offer for one of you.”

  Chief bowed his head. He reached for his rifle, looking to end Kel and hoping to dive under the camo-poncho this thug was using, to confuse the drone. If he was quick enough, he could take out both and save Kellogg in the process.

  Kel was a hair faster, kicking the team leader under the chin like he was trying to score a goal in a local Saska match. As the man hit the ground, Kat used the drone's rotary cannon to smear the cringing Kellogg into the sand. The smell of burnt meat and charred sand traveled along the wadi in the form of acrid black smoke.

  New Chief sprang to his knees to confront Kel. “Why'd you smoke him? I was the one that attacked!”

  Kel retrieved his chameleon poncho. “You were willing to die to save him. He was willing to cower after being hurt. Cowerers never give up any good info. Like I said, deal was only open to one of you. That's how I made my choice. Besides, if I let him live, he would have crawled back to whatever hole you came from to let someone know what happened. Couldn't have that.”

  Kat cooed from across the cut. “You know cowerers is not a word, right?”

  New Chief growled between bloody teeth, “First chance I get, I am going to complete my bond and ghost you.”