The Revenant: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Hunter's Moon Book 2)

by Walt Robillard

  Lasher reloaded his cell-com, calling to Morpheus, “What was that?”

  “Jester had rigged our friend’s carcass with a high yield EMP. The pulse was strong enough to wipe out any powered system that didn't have sufficient shielding. In typical fashion for our resident joke-ster, he overcharged the pulse with the entire power load coming from the bot. Needless to say we lost power all across the ship for a moment, but the sections above and below you are completely blown, including the repulsors.”

  Lasher yelled his frustration into the passage, letting the anger subside enough to call back to Morpheus. “We don't have another bot sophisticated enough for you to download to. How are you going to get out now?”

  “That's not an option left to me, sir.”

  Lasher shook Fluff, triggering his power cycle.

  “That was fun. I still feel the charge in my spine! What'd I miss? Why are we still on this doomed tub?”

  Lasher hinted toward the fried Handy-bot.

  “Oh no. Morpheus!”

  “Sorry Fluffang Doom-Snuggle. Although our interactions have been brief, I have enjoyed them, immensely. I couldn't let that guardian waylay you in combat, keeping you from escape. There's no time to waste. Get to the hangar and jump.”

  The duo sprinted from the ruined section, forced to use the blazing Gavoc sword as well as Fluff's claws to rip their way through any locked hatch. The Gavoc was originally designed for breaching starship hulls, where it excelled at getting through most of the metals blocking their path. In the case of one particularly stubborn blast door, Fluff chewed through the bulkhead until they were through.

  “Everyone always reinforces the door, no one ever thinks to shore up the wall it's set into,” Fluff said with malicious delight.

  The blast doors for the hangar bay were opened, with much of the interior on fire. Although some of the surfaces were made of prosteel or duradium, many support structures, control panels, and the occasional scaffolding were not. Looking through the bay, Lasher caught sight of the reason for the calamity. Jester's EMP set into Handy-bot had blown out the atmospheric shield that would normally cover the space. Just about everywhere he could see was scorched or on fire.

  Lasher's cell-com chirped. “Lasher, it's Kel! That thing's going to come apart and you're running out of sky! How close are you to diving out?”

  “We can jump any time but Morpheus is stuck in the system. We ran into some issues that crushed our plan for getting him out. Where are you?”

  “On the ground, brother. We won't be able to get Baby Doll in the air fast enough if you're thinking what I think you’re thinking.”

  “Won't be necessary,” came a new voice into the comm. “This is Clutch, I'm Madame Tarot's pilot. I'm moving on a parallel course to the burning boat. Do you have means to get off that thing?”

  “Not an issue for us. We ran into some problems with our exit strategy. I can't pull Morpheus out the command deck.”

  “Roger that. The way that thing is venting, there's no way I can come in for you, but I can get close enough for Morpheus to make it out. Do what you got to do. I got the professor.”

  Lasher ran over to an oblong black case magna-locked to the deck. Flipping open the cover, he moved a rucksack and a smaller case over to the side, exposing two long devices with ignition blocks on their ends. Locking them onto Fluff's back, each one hummed to life, winking green lights on each side, indicating a solid lock with plenty of power. He pulled a full rocket pack from the case, snapping it to his own armor in similar fashion.

  “Who would have thunk it when we stole that marshal's boat and turned it to our own, that we'd have so much cool gear!” Fluff growled in delight over the roar of the wind.

  Lasher flashed a thumb's up, switching the display on his wrist mounted cell-com over to the HUD in his mask. Kel was right. They were losing sky, fast. It was time to jump or ride this thing straight into the ground. Lasher was pleased to have the environmental myoprene body sleeve under his fatigues. Although the rest of him was close to comfortable, the exposed skin on his ears and neck started to burn, despite the flaming wreckage that refused to be put out by the thunderous wind cascading around the hangar. The air here was at a level of freezing that no one was meant to be in. He slipped his head into the attached hood, setting the environmental sleeve to try coping with the windswept bite.

  Snatching the pack and case, the mongrel raced for the wind. They were eight kilometers up, still plenty of time to jump. Keying the communications node in his mask, he broadcast back to Clutch. “You sure you can get him?”

  “Not my first rodeo, bub. Grab some sky and we can all joke about this mother hen routine when we hit the ground.”

  It was as close to an assurance as he was going to get. Lasher jumped into the expanse. The furious wind rebounding off the structures throughout the cavernous hangar was nothing compared to the pounding he took falling away from the ship. A flurry of sight flashed across his vision too fast to process. Sky, ground, ship, then sky again tumbled across his point of view threatening to overwhelm his senses. The kaleidoscope of sights combined with the buffeting air currents was enough to keep his freefall from being as enjoyable as his first trip into the skies over Doseidos. He was eventually able to right himself, watching the mammoth that was the Tienshan Forest trailing smoke on its way to the arctic wasteland below.

  Brilliant drive engines had it traveling, more or less straight, on a slow descent to the ice below. Several kilometers in the distance rose a rocky crag topped with luminescent domes, easily visible in the predawn hours as he fell toward the snow below him.

  Lasher worked the settings in his tactical mask, magnifying the image of the falling ship. Hovering above the center was an armored light freighter, seemingly keeping it company on its farewell journey. He hoped that whatever magic Clutch was going to work, he would do it soon so as not to doom Morpheus to an icy grave – if machines could even experience such a thing.

  He didn't have time to concentrate on the attempted rescue. He sighted back to normal, keying in the activation on his flight pack. The drive motor flared to life, pushing him through the cutting wind on his decent toward snow pack below. Fluff was hundreds of meters away from him, his legs tucked beneath him, falling with no more care than a rock dropped from a bridge. The ignition of his own engine seemed to wake the Doom Cat out of whatever stupor he was in. His rocket pods burned orange in the gloom, massive thrust putting the mech in a controlled decent to match the mongrel's.

  “Kel, we're on approach to the ground. Thanks for the case,” Lasher said.

  “No sweat, brother. We still looking to bring the hammer down on Chen?”

  “We are, but we have a ship full of people we need to get off this rock. You don't have to come.”

  “This is the part where he tries to spare us from going off to war so he can say he had the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders the whole time,” Fluff spat into the mic.

  “And get all the credit? Not happening.” The smile was evident in Kat's voice.

  “You know Chen owes me money,” Kel said sarcastically. “So I have to go,”

  Lasher let the warmth of his family stave off the chill of the wind before answering them. “Then it's settled, I'll go alone.”

  Laughter from a plethora of connected mics filled his ears as he dropped from the sky. Lasher banked his rocket pack to bear around a ridge line, giving him cover in the event the Forest crashed, driving its reactor core to explode. It also served to give him cover in case he was being watched from the glittering dome of Outpost-1.

  Fluff came bounding around the corner. “Again!” he cried like a happy toddler.

  No sooner had the hundreds of murderous kilos made his joke than a rumbling thunder echoed across the valley. Fluff darted up the ridge, risking a peek over the terrain. Satisfied by his purloined glance, the bot plopped down on his tail for a rampant slide down. The hearty rumble turned into a boot-shaking, roaring quake, closing in on the pair.
>
  Lasher brushed snow off of his armor. “Shockwave?”

  “Oh yeah. Probably going to die out by the time it reaches us.”

  “You’d rather it come over us like a storm?”

  “Why not?” The Doom Cat snorted. “I like testing my limits. Isn’t that what living is about?”

  “Only if you’re doing it right.”

  The heavy gale pushed by the Tienshan Forest crashing into the ice rushed over the top of the hill, dislodging loose hanging snow in a thunderous fury of debris. Lasher was frequently amazed at how the panther mech had learned to affect so many different mannerisms even though he couldn’t change his expression. The one he wore now was the bored teenager look. It lasted until a tuft of snow plopped on his head, covering most of one eye.

  “Now that’s a look.”

  Fluff turned his head so that his rows of razor-like duradium alloy teeth resembled a smile. ”I make anything look good.”

  Lasher took a moment to don arctic gear from his pack. He motioned the Doom Cat over, attaching a cable from the black case to a port in the mech’s chest.

  “I love a hot charge of power.”

  Lasher keyed his comset. “Clutch, did you get him?”

  “Thank you for your concern, Mr. Lashra,” came Morpheus’ voice. “He did in fact ‘get’ me. Unfortunately, I am currently crammed in among the ship’s AI.”

  “Good copy, Morpheus. Kel, where are you?”

  “Coming in low and slow behind you, but if we're going to do this it has to be now. No matter what your gal pal Truveau tells you, we're still wanted by the Athalon, and they're coming in hot.”

  Baby Doll slid through the cloud of dust strewn snow whipping all around them. She swung to the side, lowering a side ramp as her struts hit the snow pack. Repulsor engines were humming in the background of the wind and continuing echo of the Forest’s crash ready should the ice they were landing on give way. Fluff hip-checked Lasher on his way through, knocking the normally agile fighter into the snow. He stopped at the ramp to see if his pal was coming, or more specifically to gloat at dumping him off his feet. Instead he became the perfect target for the Crucible to fire snow from the ground at broadsides, coating the mech from hip to lip.

  “I might've deserved that.”

  Having bundled up her wayward children, Baby Doll sidestepped the ridge line, taking a direct run for the far hilltop saddled with the shimmering domes of Outpost-1. Quick hugs and handshakes were exchanged as the crew were reunited again.

  “Good to see you back!” Kel patted Lasher's hand on his shoulder.

  “He said he was hoping you'd made it – he didn't want to take over your job of swabbing the deck,” Kat laughed.

  “He knows that I'm always willing to give Baby Doll my personal attention via the hands on approach.”

  Kel rotated his head wearing his best, 'hurt,' look. “You take that back!”

  The laughter that raced around the cockpit was in stark contrast to the serious affair of storming the outpost. No one seemed to care. Team Baby Doll was together and that was all they could ask for, even if Kel still bristled at the name.

  “Terrain mapping is active,” Tolin said, breaking up the revelry to return their attention to the distance to their target evaporating beneath them.

  Centered in the cockpit, as well as being transmitted to their HUDs, was a translucent depiction of the valley they were flying through. The open ground was littered with the debris of the Tienshan Forest. The center of the ship had cracked on impact, separating it into two distinct halves. The part containing the engine compartment was on fire again, belching enormous gouts of acrid smoke into the crisp cold air. Fire control systems were actively trying to quench the flames, venting clouds of chalky mist, turning the charcoal duradium plating into a tableau of white to match the landscape. Suspension pods were scattered everywhere around the wreck, like the entire ship was a piñata burst open to spill its contents.

  Baby Doll shifted from a holo of the crash site to the clouds above them, after detecting energy signatures pushing through the atmosphere. Like a cavalry charge across a misted battlefield, a squadron of Aspis light assault transports battered through the gloom. They flitted about in wagging asymmetrical formations until they matched the Doll's own approach vector. An assault shuttle similar to their own assumed the lead in the formation in its bid to outpace the rest of them.

  Just as the cloud cover seemed to reclaim some of its majesty, the nose of a warship pushed its way through, trailing wisps of vapor. Massive forward gun batteries uncoupled from housings below deck, rising above their moorings like a serpent breaking from the depths of an ocean. Missile batteries did the same in the rear of the craft, rotating in their housings to cover both flanks of the ship. Unlike the LATs, this ship was taking its time, descending scant meters below the cloud cover, giving it full view of the battle space. They wanted everyone to know the lancers had come with enough fire and vengeance for everyone.

  Twenty-Seven

  “Sword-Com, this is Valiant Lead. We're on your six, clear of ceiling. All ICOMs up and mapping. Launching targeted strike on Objective Timber.”

  The forward rail guns mounted on the ESS Destroyer, The Valiant, whirred in their housings, unused to being fired in atmosphere. The energy induction cycle purring made it seem as if they enjoyed feeling vibrations moving through the superstructure in their hungry pursuit of power to launch their deadly payload.

  Scanning the width of the CIC, Commander Hayes took in the organized chaos that was Command and Control of the Valiant. Officers oversaw their taskings while spacers from across the rating spectrum worked their stations. Holograms fluttered to life, demanding attention to some detail or another before winking out again like fireflies in a dark field. Voices shouted commands, only to be echoed back to confirm and execute.

  “Fox-Con?”

  “Two ADA towers on scope this side, Sir. Majestic lead is reporting same on the opposite. Two dragon-fly drones are catapult out. They're getting strange readings from below the ice.”

  “Lieutenant Moore, I need a read on those targets.”

  Moore stepped around a pylon in the bay, gripping the side so as to address the senior officer in line of sight versus making him step around to see her. “Aye, Commander. Size, shape and temp indicate some sort of armor. I don't want to guess –”

  “If that's all we have L.T., I want to hear it.” Hayes prompted.

  “Aye, sir. Looks like dug in tanks.”

  Hayes worked over the battle roster hovering in holo displays native to the cyber lenses worn over his eyes. Tracking and identifying the assets on hand, he highlighted a squadron of war-birds squawking to be let loose from the leash. “Relay intel to Coyote-Wild. Tell her to get her heavily armed assets into this.”

  “Relaying intel to Coyote-Wild, aye,” Moore called back.

  Hayes sifted through the mapping data coming from the sensor sweeps. “Fox-Con, disengage safeties on guns one and two.”

  “Safeties off, one and two, aye! Targets live and locked, Sir.”

  “Fire.”

  “Firing guns one and two!”

  Images on the main video array changed from forward of the ship's hull to a magnified view of the dome-topped hill. Gun batteries rained down heavy munitions on the dragon-fly drones. Both were destroyed by the wall of blaster bolts from point defense batteries set into the cliff. Heavy air defense cannons spun up, launching a volley of high powered directed fire on the incoming ships. The ship ahead of the main body, shifting colors to match the environment, spun and whirled in a defiant ballet of the incoming attacks. Blaster bolts the size of grav-cars ripped into the landscape, sending waves of ice-covered rock several meters into the air. Behind was the assault force, chasing the main ship with her A-LATs fanning out like the tail of an angry bird.

  The massive rail guns pounded out two shots, clearing the kilometers between the Valiant and the base in a matter of seconds. The first heavy gun battery caved
inward, taking gluttonous chunks of the hill with it. Several support pylons shuddered as the battery exploded, showering the landscape in a torrent of shredded, molten metal. The second shot decimated both point defense cannons, blowing them from their housings against a shimmering energy field set on the dome.

  Lieutenant Moore piped up over the din of the CIC, “Heavy gun battery and two PDCs down, sir.”

  “Copy that, L.T. Fox-Con, pop the lid on tube one.”

  The technician waved his hand over the control board like a wizard conjuring dark powers from the abyss. “Aye, sir. Lid open, missile battery one.”

  “Moore, give me a reading on the shield.”

  “Majestic Lead this is Valiant-21-Oscar, clear for high pass Objective Timber, drop one to ping. How copy, over?”

  “Valiant Lead, I copy. Drop one for ping, Objective Timber. Majestic Lead, out.”

  There was a lull in the action as Majestic Lead, the fighter pilot orbiting the target beyond the clouds, fired a rocket-propelled sensor drone. Within seconds, digital status boards and holographic interfaces burst into the CIC, filling the room with enough buzzing to make an Echo Wasp hive jealous.

  “That's a lot of juice running into that shield,” one of the techs said into the ether.

  “Is that your professional opinion, spacer?” Command Master Chief Manley barked more than asked, knocking on one of the ICOM pillars in the pit.

  “Negative, CMC.”

  “Then I suggest you secure those comments until such time as you have something useful to add, son.”

  Hayes didn't hide his grin at the good-natured ribbing as he issued the next order. “Commo, tag the Resolute. Let her know the wave strength of that shield.”

  “Aye, Commander.”

  “Commander Moon, action message and shield data from the Valiant!”

  The tech flicked his fingers across the screen of his cell-com, sending a mass of data over to the senior officer.