“Charge isn’t responding,” Doc replied.
“Clarify.”
“I’ve activated remote detonation, but it’s not—just a second.”
“You’ve got twenty-five seconds, Doc,” Magnus ordered as he returned fire on a group of Marines who were regaining their courage.
“We’re good,” Doc said.
“Repeat?”
“I said, we’re green to go.” Doc rolled off the wall and double-timed it back toward the field walls.
“Good,” Azelon said over the squad channel. “Because it’s time to get the hell off the battlefield.”
“Ceasefire, ceasefire!” Magnus waved his team off and then gestured toward the north shore. He didn’t want the enemy tracking blaster rounds back to their rifles. Plus, it was easier to run without shooting over your shoulder. “Fall back to the boulders.”
Small plumes of sand and sparks leapt from the ground as Magnus raced north with the rest of his squad. He dodged the rows of field walls and ducked as several rounds pinged off the metal planks. Running in the sand was hard work, but his suit’s servo-assist helped increase efficiency. Magnus poured on the speed and felt his lungs burn, watching his heart rate climb in his HUD. He also watched the Time to Impact counter tick backward. He had less than twenty seconds to get to cover.
The Jujari made it to the boulders first, bounding across the desert-like terrain on all fours. Awen and Nídira were next, followed by Dutch, Silk, Abimbola, and Titus. Doc and Haze picked up the rear with Magnus, already tired from their sprint to the wall and back. Magnus urged them forward, then he saw Haze trip. The gladia hit the sand hard, disrupting the ground enough that it drew the attention of several Marines. Blaster bolts pelted Haze’s legs and backside, dropping his shield in under three seconds.
“Awen,” Magnus roared. No sooner had he cried her name than a semi-translucent wall appeared behind Haze. Magnus dashed behind it and grabbed Haze under the shoulder. “Can you stand?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” Haze said, climbing to his feet and retrieving his weapon.
Magnus thrust the man forward, trying to keep Awen’s Unity wall between them and the enemy. He waited for blaster rounds to strike him in the back, but none hit, which he was thankful for. He hated running from a fight, but according to Azelon, they needed to give the incoming crates as much leeway as possible. The mystics could have provided adequate protection against the expected blast force, but there was no way to know precisely where the crates would hit. Retreating to the boulders meant more running, but it was better than getting flattened. Magnus and Haze were just about to the embankment that ran down the side of the rocks when the orbital crates hit.
The concussive force struck Magnus in the back and flung him forward, clear over the boulders, and about twenty-five meters across the shore. He slammed into the sand and felt his suit plates bind at the joints, preventing his bones from bending in ways they weren’t meant to. Still, the violent changes in inertia rattled his organs and sent waves of pain from head to toe.
When the blast wave had expired, and his body was done rolling toward the surf, Magnus pushed up and oriented himself. His ears were ringing, and he could taste copper on his tongue. He blinked several times and then willed his vision to focus. When he looked south, he saw darkness. The blast knocked out Elusian Base’s floodlamps, which was good. With any luck, the lights wouldn’t be the only things disabled.
Magnus heard a wet cough over comms. He looked right and saw Haze ten meters away.
“You good, Haze?” Magnus asked, watching the man find his feet.
“Roger, LT. Bit my lip, but I’m fine.” The man shook his helmet a little. “Think my HUD suffered some damage too. Sensors seem misaligned.”
“Can you try a reboot?”
“Yeah.”
Magnus pointed toward the boulders. “Do it as we run. Tap me if your comms go down.”
“Copy that.”
Magnus beat hard for the boulders. As he neared the squad, he gave a quick gesture toward the battlefield. “Up and over, Granthers. We gotta make this count.”
The team broke off and went up both sides of the boulders, weapons ready. As soon as they crested the summit, Magnus saw three yellow containers standing five meters tall and three across. They sat at the bottom of wide craters in the field and bore scorch marks across their bases. Large stenciled numbers designated the containers as 1, 2, and 3 respectively, while smaller type read BATRIG Mk. I.
“I’m in number three,” Magnus said. “Abimbola, Titus, you’re in numbers one and two.” Both men verbally assented and took off running. “Everyone else, keep us covered. And Doc and Haze? Get ready to blow those charges—assuming they’re still active and on the wall.”
“They are,” Doc replied. “Ready when you are.”
Magnus followed Abimbola and Titus toward the crates and then diverted to run down the bowl toward his container. So far, the enemy hadn’t recovered from the blast, which was just fine with Magnus. He slid to a stop at the base of the crate and heard the metal creaking as it cooled. These units were meant for high-speed delivery of assets and were fairly common among most militaries. Like everything else she worked on with Magnus, Azelon’s version had some modifications, which included directional thrusters and additional suspension to keep the contents from imploding on impact. But based on Magnus’s limited understanding of what was inside, he doubted they’d need any white-glove treatment.
The security sensors detected his approach and unlocked with a soft chirp. Magnus stepped back and let the hatch swing open, then ducked inside and turned on his twin headlamps. The space was cramped, allowing him only enough room to squeeze around to the front and climb a set of recessed rungs. He was halfway to the pilot cockpit when blaster fire began resonating on the outside of the crate. The Marines were reengaging.
“You want us to light them up?” Doc asked.
“Not yet,” Magnus replied. “Just a few more seconds.”
“Copy that.”
Magnus arrived at the cockpit and pulled himself inside, trying his best not to bump anything that he shouldn’t touch. His ass landed in a small standing seat, and his feet found their way down leg tubes until they landed on base plates. Likewise, he reached forward and inserted his hands into control gloves that could double as manual actuators in the event his Novian biotech interface lost connectivity with the unit. As soon as his NBTI paired, a new tab appeared in his HUD. He allowed his eyes to hover on the tab marked Mech until a welcome screen appeared.
“Welcome to the Novian mechanized battle armament system,” Azelon’s voice said, though Magnus realized it was a recording. “Your BATRIG mark one is equipped with—”
“Cancel,” Magnus said. The voice went silent, while the sound of blaster fire against the outside of his crate grew more intense. It wouldn’t be long before someone fired an SMDL on his position. “Initiate weapons systems.”
“Initiating weapons systems,” the voice replied. An outline of the BATRIG appeared in Magnus’s HUD, and all the weapons systems glowed. “Weapons online.”
“You boys ready?” Magnus asked Abimbola and Titus.
“Just say the word, buckethead,” the Miblimbian replied.
“Ready,” Titus said.
“Activate chameleon mode. Doc, Haze—blow the wall.”
Magnus imagined flexing his arms, legs, back, and shoulders, and felt the suit respond. Limbs struck the container’s walls, triggering the maglock system to decouple the crates panels. The container walls fell away, and a beat later, Magnus brought the mech to full height as the charges detonated. The explosions bathed the BATRIGs in bright orange light. Magnus got his first look at Abimbola and Titus’s mechs as chunks of blastcrete and human flesh shot into the night sky.
The telecolos-covered white, blue, and black BATRIGs had wide multi-toed feet that could form over complex terrain. The robust legs employed the reversed bend of canine-like hind legs—which seemed fitting, given the
Novian-minded designer. The torso, which housed the pilot’s body, allowed only the operator’s helmet to protrude and could deploy a canopy for additional protection if needed.
At the end of the right arm, Magnus saw a massive blaster barrel that he recognized from the assault on the Black Labyrinth in Nelson’s company. In his HUD, the weapon was designated as a GU90M—no doubt the “Mech” version of the 90mm bore cannon that was responsible for giving Moldark’s forces hell in the hangar bay. On the end of his left arm was a new weapon that consisted of a bisected barrel and a sleek charge generator. His HUD read RTD10. He opened the dropdown menu and glanced at the definition, which read Reticulating Torrent Disruptor, Version 1.0. While the description read a little like a similarly named Repub weapon, Magnus had no idea what to make of it. But if he knew Azelon at all, it was going to pack one hell of a punch.
The last weapon was a missile bay on the BATRIG’s back, identified by the acronym VWMS. The designation stood for Variable Warhead Missile System, which had three primary options listed under the operations menu. But Magnus didn’t have time to review the remaining information—his BATRIG was already taking fire from Marines along the wall.
“Let’s see what these babies can do,” Magnus said, and then brought his GU90M to bear on the wall’s center section, above the main gate. Then he thought-ordered the mech to fire. Magnus felt the recoil before he saw the blaster round belch from the weapon and blow a hole in the wall’s railing. Three Marines twirled through the air, their bodies maimed and trailing blood. Magnus spread his feet a little wider and fired a second round, blowing up a sniper nest. One moment, the Marine lined up a shot on Magnus—the next, he was vaporized as the large-caliber blaster round drove through the victim’s head, down his spine, and out the souls of his boots.
Abimbola whooped as he tore through a cluster of defenders on the left side, while Titus made quick work of three Marines in a guard tower on the right.
Magnus brought his RTD10 forward and aimed it at two Marines setting up a MUT50—the Corps infamous 50mm ultra torrent tri-reticulating blaster. He didn’t need to understand the BATRIG’s armor capabilities to know that the MUT50 would inflict some severe damage against the mech. Magnus willed the targeting reticle to lock onto the men and then ordered the weapon to fire.
For a moment, nothing happened. Magnus only heard the whining sound of a capacitor charging up. He was a split second away from abandoning his weapon choice when the RTD10 let out a frenzied blaaat. The muzzle flash flowered outward as the high-frequency blaster rounds struck the two men and detonated their bodies. Their armor blew apart like shattering glass, and gore caked everyone next to the victims.
“Holy splick,” Magnus said quietly, but loud enough that it went over comms.
“You can say that again,” Titus said, using his RTD10 to liquefy three soldiers near the guard tower’s base. Titus’s rounds didn’t just strike the men, however, but also hit the tower wall. The missing chunk destabilized the structure, causing the pillar to lean sideways and then pivot just enough that it tumbled over the barrier and crashed into the sand down front.
Refocused on the mission, Magnus ordered everyone to converge on the breach along the right side. “We’ll cover you!”
The three mechs moved together, marching toward the hole while the gladias dashed toward the opening. They set up on either side of the gap, waiting for the mechs to ensure the way was clear. Magnus made it first then swung his GU90M into the breach and fired. The blast blew a giant pockmark in the ground and sent sand and blastcrete chunks shooting into the air, clearing the immediate area of enemies. Abimbola followed the explosion up with a spurt of RTD10 fire, ensuring that nothing remained to hinder the gladias on foot.
“Clear to advance,” Magnus said. “Substation 120 meters, bearing 215º.”
“Copy that,” Rohoar replied. He and Czyz rounded the wall’s charred edges first and then charged ahead. The rest of the squad went next, followed by Abimbola, Titus, and finally, Magnus. But as Magnus crossed through the wall, he felt his mech take fire on his left shoulder. He looked over to see two Marines running along the ramparts, firing MAR30s in his direction.
For whatever reason, Magnus’s heart skipped a beat. The MAR30 was the signature weapon of his old unit. As if driving the point home, Magnus saw the 79th Recon insignia on one of the Marine’s chest plates.
Magnus held short.
He shouldn’t have hesitated. But he did.
Both Recon Marines leaped into the breach and landed on Magnus’s mech. One brought his MAR30 up and placed the muzzle against Magnus’s visor. But Magnus activated the mech’s head cover, and a canopy deployed fast enough that it knocked the Marine’s weapon wide. The second Marine fired into the mech’s left shoulder joint, which sent warning notifications flaring in Magnus’s HUD. The rounds continued to penetrate through the joint until the limb went limp, spurting fluid and sparks.
Magnus swung his right arm up and struck the first man in the back with the GU90M barrel, breaking bone. The man fell and landed in front of Magnus’s feet. With a single step forward, Magnus pressed a foot down and ended the Marine’s suffering.
The remaining Recon Marine fired into the canopy, but the shield deflected the blaster bolts. Magnus swung his GU90M at the combatant, but the Marine stayed clear, having learned his lesson from his fallen brother in arms. Magnus turned and backpedaled, slamming his back into the blastcrete wall, but the other man pulled himself away from the impact. Then Magnus heard the telltale sound of the wide displacement charge loading in the weapon. Just as the Marine fired toward the cockpit, Magnus lurched into the wall again. While the force wasn’t enough to dislodge the man, it at least knocked the shot wide. Instead of cracking open the cockpit, the energy blast disabled the mech’s right arm and right leg.
Partially immobile, the Recon Marine brought his MAR30 back up, and Magnus knew what would come next—because it’s what he would do. He even saw the man select the distortion setting in the weapon’s selector switch. He was going to incinerate Magnus inside the mech.
“Oh no, you don’t,” Magnus said. He activated the canopy’s emergency release, which shot the windowplex covering into the sky. It blew the Marine’s MAR30 from his hands and left the man stunned, but still clinging to the mech’s shoulder. Then Magnus withdrew his knife, freed his arm, and stabbed at the weak spot between the Marine’s helmet and chest plate. A torrent of blood spurted down the knife and onto Magnus’s gauntlet as the blade severed the jugular vein. The Marine grabbed onto Magnus’s helmet and tried wrenching it sideways in an attempt to break Magnus’s neck, but the strength was already leaving the fighter’s body. Magnus thrust again, twisting the blade. It had the immediate response of draining the man of all will to fight. The Marine slumped onto Magnus’s head and then flipped down the mech’s front.
“Azelon,” Magnus said. “My mech’s done. Any chance I can use the missiles on the back to turn it into a parting gift when we leave?”
“By parting gift, do you mean self-destruct?” she asked.
“Sure do.”
“Yes. You’ll find it under the ordnance options in the VWN menu.”
Magnus followed the path and found the Auto Destruct Sequence in the last row of options. More sparks blew out of the BATRIG as Magnus selected the option and set it for—for how long? he wondered.
“Abimbola, come in,” Magnus said over VNET. He could see the other two mechs defending the substation. Both Marine companies had been fully activated, and the fighting was getting a lot worse. So many lost lives, Magnus noted, wishing McCormick had listened to him. But there’d be time enough to lament the mission’s losses later—if he got out of this alive.
“What is it, buckethead?” Abimbola replied.
“How much time you need?”
“Awen is inside the substation now, along with Rohoar and Czyz. The rest of us are outside defending—”
“I see you. I just need a time.”
�
�We’re at the console,” Awen replied, her voice strained. “I’m navigating the—” Awen’s voice broke off, and Magnus heard growling in the background, followed by blaster fire, and then the sound of armor breaking apart.
“Awen?” Magnus said. “Talk to me!”
“I’m okay,” she said, but her tone was far from convincing. “I’m activating the… oh no.”
“What’s oh no?” Magnus winced as a small fire ignited in his mech’s left shoulder. He needed to get out. More Marines were headed his way, apparently curious as to whether or not the machine was still a threat. “Awen? What’s oh no?”
“Everyone out.” Awen’s eyes grew wide. “It’s a trap!”
10
“If you drop us, mystic, I am going to devour you,” Longchomps said. He appeared to be the most nervous out of everyone that Wish was lowering in her “magic bubble,” as he called it. Zoll felt his mistrust was ironic given the Jujari’s quasi-abilities in the Unity. Perhaps it had something to do with seeing nothing but open air beneath his feet for over twenty meters.
“Pretty sure you’ll be dead,” Rix said.
“I will hunt her down in the afterlife.”
Rix shrugged. “Fair enough.”
Wish created the bubble’s floor about two meters beneath the elevator. She told everyone to get through the hole and wait for her to climb down. It took Zoll a few seconds to trust the translucent surface beneath his feet before he let go of the elevator’s floor. Wish pushed him aside with her feet and then dropped down.
As Wish lowered the team, Zoll said, “This is some crazy splick, you know that?”
Wish chuckled once. “You’re welcome.”
On the bright side, his unit was on the move again, and Reimer was safe. On the downside, they were disconnected from Delta and Echo Teams until Cyril or Wish found a way to reopen the elevator shaft. Then again, the pod was permanently stuck in the shaft, thanks to Longchomps’s heavy-hitting, which—looking back on it—wasn’t the brightest idea. One problem at a time, Zoll reminded himself.
Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6 Page 175