REV- Rebirth

by T. R. Harris

  So he raked the buildings with ripping rounds of gunfire. The effect was a shattering of storefronts and a crumbling of masonry. Where once the aliens thought they had cover, they now found they were mistaken. Walls were penetrated—some completely through the building—and dozens of defenders died from the bullets, as well as from falling debris. Several of the nearest buildings collapsed into the street as their support members were shot apart by fire from the mini railgun.

  After a moment, most of the defensive fire had ceased and Pete was able to focus on other targets down the street. Several of the vehicles were turning off the main road and heading down side streets. Pete raced after them.

  He followed three of the speeding cars to the right, only to find his body reacting to a strong shock on the left side of his body. He angled his run to the left, and soon was back on the main road. There were other cars racing away on the side road to the left, with very few now on the main road heading for the stadium. Before he could react, another strong jolt came to his chest, and he set off at a sprint down the main road, heading for the stadium now a mile away.

  8

  Kyle was sipping on a cup of tea, using a thrice-filtered bag to give only a suggestion of taste to the hot water. He was in the command center, huddled with about fifty other officers and enlisted, all listening to the panicked reports of the aliens on the comm.

  The entire enclave was mesmerized—as well as impatient—with the slow approach of the Human fleet. Six hours waiting for salvation was excruciating. But now the ships were moving into orbit. They would establish a stationery position over the enclave and then launch their fighters, providing cover for the landing craft carrying the settlement’s much-needed supplies. Stomachs grumbled as tears welled up in swollen eyes. They weren’t completely out of the woods—not yet—but at least someone was coming to help. Most of those in the enclave had given up hope that this moment would ever come—

  And then the unexpected happened. Reports from the Lanic natives and the Antaere reported on a shift in the fleet’s position. More panic was heard in the alien voices over the comm lines. They were recalibrating the location over which the fleet was stationing their forces. The name Bountiful was heard, causing those around the speakers in the enclave’s military command center to go pale. The Bountiful enclave was on the other side of the planet from Unity. And there was no one there, only the few Antaere who had taken over the settlement months ago. Was the Human fleet really going to attack the distant outpost and not provide relief for Unity?

  “Maybe they’ll come here after Bountiful,” said someone in the crowded room.

  Another voice responded. “The force is too small to do both. The Antaere have enough assets in the system to drive nineteen ships away after only a day or so on station.”

  “Unless this is only the lead force. Reinforcements could be coming.”

  There was silence in the room. No one was willing to enter into a point-counterpoint discussion, not while updates were still coming in.

  Fifteen minutes later, the news had only gotten worse.

  A REV had been launched at the Bountiful Enclave, not even waiting for the carrier to achieve orbit. He was followed in by a strong Marine landing force. The Antaere at Bountiful were indeed the primary target of the assault force, and not Unity. The liberation of the abandoned enclave would serve no tactical purpose for the Humans, other than to be able to say they did it. Kyle knew what that meant. The fleet was here for PR purposes only, a way of showing the natives that Earth was here for them, if they called. And as for the Humans at Unity? They would have to wait for another day, if ever.

  Captain Drake took the two REVs by their arms and pulled them away from the others. “We have to get to the carrier, even if it won’t come to us.”

  “Agreed,” said the REVs in unison. Their singular mission was still a go. Even if Unity was to be bypassed, there was still NT-4 only a few thousand miles away. They had to get Larry to it.

  The men rushed off for the corvette.

  Five minutes later the engines were spinning. Drake had called for the dropping of the shields to take place on his count. The chemical engines would pop the ship up and out of the camp in an instant, to an elevation of three thousand feet. With the Antaere now scrambling their defensive assets to Bountiful, they would have clear sailing once out of the enclave. The makeshift gravity drive should be enough to get them into space. At that point they’d have comms with the fleet, free of Antaere jamming, to let the carrier know they were coming.

  As the cloud of white smoke filled the spaceport, sending the ship skyward, those aboard felt more confident about Larry’s prospects. He just might have a chance after all.

  9

  On the Eldorado, General Diamond moved up behind Captain Lofton so he could get a better look at the screens.

  “That seemed to work,” Diamond said, referring to the guiding shocks sent to the REV.

  Lofton nodded, too busy concentrating on the images being transmitted by the drones to answer verbally. Checking his monitors, he saw that the RC shuttle had landed and was moving into the enclave. The Marine landing force was on final approach and would touch down in thirty seconds.

  He checked Pete’s Run time. Three minutes in and he was still a mile from the stadium. He was burning through ammo at a dangerous rate and he had to pick up the pace if he was to have anything left to take out the main concentration of Antaere at their headquarters.

  Lofton shut off the railgun, saving ammo, but leaving the flash weapon active to target the sporadic Antaere along the way. Pete didn’t notice that the railgun wasn’t firing. He was still aiming and pulling the trigger, instinct and rote training governing his actions.

  There were so many things happening on Lofton’s screens, with a myriad of views fighting for his attention, that he failed to see the huge truck angling in from a side street in Pete’s direction. Before he could react, it slammed into the REV, sending Pete flying before he crashed into a building at the corner of the intersection. The truck followed, smashing into the concrete block structure, penetrating to the depth of the shattered windshield.

  Then the driver placed the truck in reverse and pulled it out of the crumbling facade. The alien scanned the dark opening, looking for Pete. When he didn’t see him, he continued to pull out farther before lifting up and placing half his body through the opening left by the shattered windshield, trying to see over the grill.

  The drone operators scrambled their charges, looking for a better angle themselves. That was when Pete stood up in front of the truck, the right side of his armor in tatters and the railgun split in two.

  The Antaere driver made the mistake of moving, which placed all of Pete’s focus on him. A split second later, the REV was in the cab, pummeling the soft-flesh creature with both the flash barrel and the remains of his railgun. The cameras on Pete’s command collar had been obscured with white dust from the building, but now they cleared, at least for a moment. Now they were covered in bright red blood, as was most of Pete’s remaining armor.

  He stood up, using his incredible strength to rip the top of the cab off the body of the smashed truck. Pete scanned the surrounding roads before hopping down to the pavement.

  “Damage to his right arm,” the female med-tech called out in the control room. “And he appears to have sprained his right ankle.”

  “Can he still run?” Lofton asked.

  “Yes, sir. Coming up on seven minutes. Body temperature six degrees above normal. Blood pressure and pulse rate also elevated. Sir, he’s already getting close.”

  “Understood. Continue with the Run. I’m going to give him a little push to get him moving again.”

  The shock sent Pete racing along the roadway. The stadium was in front of him, now only half a mile away.

  Lofton checked the location of the recovery team and grimaced at what he saw. They were well behind schedule, even with their exo-skeletons, their way slowed by the constant harassing fire fro
m the multitude of buildings overlooking their path. The main Marine force was pouring into the area outside the gate, unloading APCs and small tanks and moving into the enclave. They had already begun to separate and move off in opposite directions along the inner wall. So far everything was proceeding more-or-less as planned. No operation ran perfectly. This one was no exception.

  Pete was at the stadium now, and a half-dozen drones swept in ahead of him and took up positions covering the structure. The Humans had left the enclave over a year ago, and the once green grass covering the field was now a pale yellow, with large areas of gray dirt. There were several Antaere in the stands, cowering with weapons at the ready, but none willing to reveal their location by firing at the REV. Lofton also noticed a figure standing to the right of Pete, near the far end of the field.

  “What is that?” he called out to the drone operators.

  Two of the drones moved in and buzzed the object. It looked to be a robot of some sort, standing about ten feet tall, with two long appendages with double sets of gripping claws and tracked wheels for locomotion. There were also weapons attachments along the arms, as well as on the body. There was something else. One of the drones hovered in front of the machine, peering through a tinted shield at a void inside the body. Using heat sensors, a living figure appeared. Zooming in closer, Lofton gasped as the face resolved to show the pale yellow skin of an Antaere. But what he saw in the eyes is what made him gasp. The head lifted and the eyes opened, showing glowing yellow pupils resting in a sea of red. This was an alien REV.

  Lofton had heard of them. In the burst broadcast with the Corollaries sent by General Smith there was an encrypted message for Human Military Command. It told of their discovery of operational alien superbeings. Further intelligence confirmed the report, showing that the Antaere even called their creations REVs, although in the alphabet of the aliens, it came out as NOVs. What a NOV was doing here, apparently stationed in the arena of the soccer stadium, Lofton was afraid to imagine.

  And then the thing moved.

  The drones picked up on the movement, as did Pete, who had just entered the bright sunshine of the open-air arena. The contraption was larger than anything around it causing Pete to focus on the object, immediately identifying it as a threat.

  “It’s a large exo-suit for the NOV,” General Diamond stated from behind Lofton. “Instead of going lighter—like we did with our suits—they’ve gone bigger and heavier.”

  “Pete should be faster, but against that thing, I’m not sure what he can do.”

  For an answer, Pete’s flash weapon ignited, sending three quick bolts directly into the body of the robot. But rather than impacting the metal surface, the bolts created a light blue shimmer around the NOV before fading away, having no effect on the machine.

  “A diffusion shield!” Lofton exclaimed. “And his railgun is smashed.”

  Pete was rushing toward the black bulk of metal without fear or hesitation, still firing flash bolts. The NOV was returning flash fire, yet from weapons a lot stronger than could be carried by hand.

  “Sir, his suit is overheating!” a tech along the line yelled out. “The system can’t absorb so much energy. He’s being cooked alive!”

  Lofton shut down the flash weapon, along with the suit’s absorption feature. The incoming bolts still struck Pete, but now they slipped off the armor—what there was of it that still existed.

  The confrontation between weapon systems only lasted a second, before the two enhanced super-warriors collided. The alien beast didn’t react, stopping REV’s head-long charge as if he’d smashed into a brick wall. Then one of the long arms lashed out and slammed against Pete’s body. He was thrown into the air, landing hard on the dead grass before rolling into a barrier that formed a wall between the field and the first level of seats.

  Pete was on his feet almost instantly and running back for another round. The results were the same, only this time Pete was a little slower to recover. His right arm was more-or-less useless, and his nearly broken ankle had cut his running speed in half. His body was bruised and battered beyond belief, even though the meds in both the undergarment and his command collar were already beginning the healing process. And the enhanced Rev drug in his system was also doing its job. All this did, however, was make Pete able to take more punishment, for a while longer.

  He stood for a moment, watching the huge alien machine march across the field towards him. And then he turned and ran away, disappearing through an arched portal into the ring of stone levels forming the outer walls of the stadium.

  “Where are you sending him?” Diamond asked.

  “I didn’t do that,” Lofton gasped.

  Diamond was silent.

  “Sir, we’re at the eleven minute mark,” a tech called out. “Vitals redlining.”

  “Continue with the op,” Diamond called out.

  “Sir, he’s going to cascade—”

  “Do as I say. Set your new time at fourteen minutes.”

  “Sir?”

  “Do it!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The cameras on Pete’s collar, as well as from the tracking drones, showed him limping along the covered corridors of the stadium. There were a lot of Antaere present, but very few were firing on him. And for the most part, Pete was ignoring them. That wasn’t right. He should have been attacking everyone he passed. Instead, he struck out at the few within range, but otherwise simply moved through the crowd.

  “Sir, we have a problem!”

  Lofton looked down the line to see who was speaking. It was one of the monitors of the Marine force. He switched one of his screens to see what the man was referring to.

  What he saw turned his blood cold.

  10

  Bull Bullock was getting the hang of his mechanical legs. They didn’t require a lot of training to operate, just trust that they would work. There were efficient gyros that kept the contraption upright and balanced, and it really did add speed—if not agility—to the movements of the Marine master sergeant.

  Even so, Pete Savage was still far ahead of the recovery team. Through the HUD in his helmet, Bull saw when Pete was broadsided by the truck. Yet he was amazed at how quickly the REV recovered and resumed his charge for the stadium. Bull and his unit were facing stubborn resistance coming from the hundreds of windows overlooking the route. The two squads of infantry Marines accompanying the RC were doing their best to answer the snipers shot for shot, but it was slow going. Two of Bull’s crew, along with three of the infantry, had gone down, and as far as the senior non-comm could see, it was going to be like this all the way to the arena.

  And then things took a decided turn for the worse.

  Dual columns of armored personnel carriers appeared from both directions at the next intersection and turned toward the Humans. The alien APCs were mini-tanks as well, and the short-barreled flash cannon opened up on the exposed troops who were making their way along both sides of the street. Bull ordered his people to make for the interiors of the buildings. Gunshots rang out as locked doors were blown off their hinges. Some of his people made it inside, others didn’t. Bullock shuddered, watching six of his unit torn apart by the powerful plasma bolts.

  The Marine infantry wasn’t fairing much better. They, too, dove for the interior of the buildings, but then the weapons of the Antaere APCs simply pulverized the windows and lower floors, killing everyone who hadn’t made it behind stone and tile pillars or deeper into the structure.

  But then more Antaere appeared, many from inside the buildings themselves. The Marines fell to the floor for cover, as flash bolts streaked in from outside and ballistics tore into them from the Qwin infantry.

  “Pull back! Pull back to grid section Bravo,” Bull heard in his ear comm. “By unit, make for the gate.”

  The voice was not that of Captain Dreyfus, the leader of their infantry escort. Bull knew the man and his voice. This was someone else, meaning that somewhere in the carnage, officer lay dead, along with half h
is force. This couldn’t go on much longer.

  Bull looked around at the few surviving members of his team. There were seven of them huddled nearby, all eyes on him. The other half of the team was across the street. He fingered his throat mic.

  “Edwards, sitrep?” he called out.

  “Freeport here! Edwards is dead. I repeat Edwards is dead. Only four of us left.”

  “Can you move farther into the building?”

  “Uh-huh, the Antaere aren’t here in any numbers.”

  “Find a back door and get out. Move along the side streets and alleys back to the main gate. We’re going to do the same over here.”

  Aaron Freeport was a corporal—and a gurney tech; he wasn’t much of a fighter, although everyone on the team had combat training. But this was different.

  “Will do, sir…eh, I mean master sergeant.”

  “That’s okay, son. Now get going, before the Antaere bring in more troops.”

  And that’s just what the Antaere had—more troops. A lot more troops than they’d been told. His comm was now erupting with reports from other Marine units throughout the enclave. IEDs were exploding along the path of the Marines, and in locations they’d already passed. They’d been lured into a trap, and now it was being sprung. Men were dying by the hundreds, including more than half of Bullock’s people. Now he had to save those he could.

  “Follow me,” he said. The survivors were enthusiastic, if terrified.

  Bullock had the most combat experience, so he took point, showing confidence and strength; he had to set an example for what remained of the frightened team. The bulk of the Antaere flash bolts from outside, as well as the Qwin troops inside the buildings, had been reserved for the Marine infantry units. The RC was comprised mostly of medical personnel and the aliens knew this. Still, there were a few Qwin in the building as Bullock began to make his way through the long corridors, heading for the north end of the building.