Free Fleet Box Set 1

Home > Other > Free Fleet Box Set 1 > Page 9
Free Fleet Box Set 1 Page 9

by Michael Chatfield


  “All right, tomorrow we’ll begin with Mecha training. It’s mostly to get you acquainted with the machines, and to map your neural pathways.”

  Salchar guided them out as another squad came in a few minutes later.

  He ran through the same things as they left. Shrift was able to get in a small nap, taking the drug Wake-Up before Salchar’s squad returned. Wake-Up could allow someone to continue at their peak performance well beyond their body’s natural abilities.

  Taleel stayed with his squad this time, agitating Shrift.

  Shrift watched them get suited up with now semi-proficient hands. In fifteen minutes, they were ready. He felt proud even as he knew what was coming.

  “We’re going to need to make that faster,” Taleel said. Shrift couldn’t miss the pleased tone in Taleel’s voice at their speed. Sarenmentis took hours to suit up on their first day. Shrift remembered all too well. He had no doubt that the officer would be bragging to his fellows as soon as possible.

  Shrift watched as Taleel had them go through the process for hours, smiling as the pain implants were activated. Soon the humans were too tired and numb to do anything but suit up and down.

  “They are yours, Kuruvian,” Taleel said, giving him the pain implant remote. Shrift took it and, as soon as he was gone, deposited it behind his workbench. He ordered food for the squad with added stimulants, which was delivered minutes later by other Kuruvians.

  The antigravity pallet could’ve taken the food, but the Kuruvians were a curious race. Something as interesting as another race turned them into excited children.

  Shrift turned off his translator, happily conversing with them as they discussed the humans and passed out food tubes. The humans drank them hungrily. A few Kuruvians put sensors on the squad members, who ripped them off as the entire squad reacted as one. They grouped together in twos, which looked out for another pair, and that four another four and so on.

  The group was highly protective, Shrift saw. They also had a solid command structure, unlike the mess the Sarenmenti called one, and they were fighters. Whatever Taleel had taught them, they’d taken up fighting easily.

  “What is he doing?” Salchar asked.

  His voice was calm but Shrift knew that with a command Salchar’s people would beat the Kuruvians in the room to pulps, no matter their strength difference. He saw the way their eyes moved, as if he could see the mental gears behind those eyes turning. They were already seeing how best to win. They’d spent months fighting other groups of humans who were bigger and stronger than them, beating whoever faced them.

  Shrift wondered for a second whether Salchar knew that the Sarenmenti had started wearing power-amplifying gauntlets because the humans were now stronger than the Sarenmenti and could take a beating better. Also, the captains and their personal crews of the higher status planets had been so delighted with the news, they had made sleep and food mandatory, as well as daily physical training. Shrift realized his mind was wandering as he returned to Salchar’s question.

  “They are trying to test to see what you need for your optimal growth,” Shrift said. “It also helps me see how I should modify my Mechas to suit your needs.” Maybe I can make a new series, just for humans to amplify your power, he thought with glee. He was an engineer through and through: the idea of tackling something new and interesting gave him new energy.

  The humans relaxed slightly.

  “Truly?” Salchar looked at Shrift, his eyes pleading for truth. There was so much pain. Even after all the human had gone through, he was extending himself out, expecting to be cut off, Shrift saw.

  “Yes, truly, Salchar.” Shrift’s eyes never moved a fraction as Salchar smiled tiredly.

  “Get that grub down you. I have a feeling we’re going to have all kinds of fun with our Mecha training today,” Salchar said. A few smiles appeared as people reclaimed their food tubes. The Kuruvians were already trying to analyze what had happened as Shrift looked at where Salchar’s eyes had been.

  He watched as the human looked after his own. He truly cared and he was willing to trust another alien race, even when he had been treated so badly by the first. Hope grew in Shrift. Maybe Resilient and Eddie were right. Though now is not the time or the place, he reminded himself as he rotated down the scrap Mechas and gathered the tools he would need for the humans to put their Mechas back together once they broke them, as well as a few injectors of Hellfire. Mechas were a whole other game compared to normal hand-to-hand.

  Ten minutes later, Shrift beckoned to the humans as the Kuruvians stepped aside, watching.

  “In each of your berths, there is a scrap Mecha. You will be using these for the fights. The ones in your ‘coffins’—as you say—will only be used during non-combat training and once you graduate for real combat.

  “Well, get in them, then we can go and train.”

  Quickly, the humans rushed to obey and in five minutes they were walking out of their berths in the odd jerky motion that came with uncoupling the Mecha from the charging harness.

  “Follow me.” He pushed a gravity cart with his tools into a large open training area, this one four times the size of their pod.

  “Now spar.” He got out a seat and sat down.

  “Then we’ll damage the Mechas,” one of the humans said, a smaller one.

  “Yes, and then you’ll learn to fix it. I’ve put you on a quarter power—move around, get acquainted with them. You can just move around in them if that’s all you care to do, but I would suggest you spar so that you can defeat the other teams that you come up against.”

  All of them looked to Salchar.

  “Get moving! Once I think everyone has a grasp of their Mecha, we’ll all be under Yasu. Work through the motions with your half-squad, first walking then simple jabs and counters,” Salchar said.

  The Mechas split into two groups. One group fought one another as the second moved around cautiously and then more steadily as they watched the first group and commented on their movements.

  Salchar came to stand next to Shrift, becoming confident in his ability to walk with every step.

  “Armorer Shrift, are we able to upgrade our Mechas?” Salchar moved side to side, moving his arms and squatting as well.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  Salchar paused, looking over Shrift for a few seconds before he continued. “I just want to do some minor modifications to the armor. The joints are based on a magnetic bearing, which is supposed to move in every direction. We could optimize the power by customizing the joints to the human body.”

  Shrift’s eyes widened in pleasure. Finally, someone interested in Mechas!

  “I’ve had that thought before but I haven’t been able to get medical records of the users’ bodies.”

  “I could just tell or show you, and then you wouldn’t need to get medical records.”

  “I would be very interested if you did that. See, I make Mechas, they’re my joy right now, but if they aren’t doing the best possible then, well, I think of it as a failure on my part.”

  Salchar and Shrift made eye contact.

  “Thank you, Armorer Shrift,” Salchar said simply, bowing his head as much as his Mecha would allow before he walked away.

  Shrift had the distinct feeling Salchar was thanking him for much more than just saying he might be able to change his Mecha.

  All he’d done was give him a meal, let him train his people and taken away the threat of the pain implant. Maybe I have done more than just give him hope to change his Mecha.

  What’s the Use of a New Toy if You Don’t Use It?

  I was on last watch as the screeching announced our rest was over. We got up quickly and nervously. We’d been in the Mechas for three days now and wore neural mappers. It was a cable-like thing that directly connected with our nerve ports; it saw how different actions caused our nerves to fire in different ways, which would help translate our normal movements into synchronous Mecha movements.

  That goal seemed a long
way off, especially after our abysmal attempts at fighting so far.

  “File through and get your scrap Mechas,” Taleel said through the squad pod’s speakers as the door to the track and armory opened. We filed through, shortest to tallest, as Shrift waited for us.

  We all enjoyed our time with Shrift—well, most of us did. He was nice; he wouldn’t yell unless it was necessary and he taught us more than Taleel ever had. There was a sense of mutual respect between Shrift and us, with him not using pain to motivate us, while we did the best to impress. With Taleel, we just worked to meet his standards.

  Where our battle-ready Mechas were minimally dented and had no rust on them, the scrap Mechas were busted up worse than some cars I’d seen after accidents and there was more rust on them than metal. Under Shrift’s constant guidance, we were able to get our Mechas into fighting trim. It felt good to be building something instead of being constantly scared and fighting.

  He handed out food packets, a plastic-like module that could insert into our food reservoirs on our lower back under our armor. Then we could use our finger balls and HUD to access the food command. When the user took a pull of their water hose, they got delicious goop—minus the delicious part.

  As we took food packets, Shrift scowled at the recipient of the packet good-naturedly, telling them about something they’d missed or some issue with their suit. We quickly got to work fixing whatever he found to be an issue before he was satisfied enough for us to get into them.

  These scrap Mechas also didn’t fit right, like our battle-ready ones. The padding was woefully inadequate and warnings flashed onto our screens, telling us of limited mobility as we ran our start-ups.

  I dropped down and forward as I came out of the charging harness. As soon as my foot touched the ground, I flew into the ceiling and crashed back down to the floor. I didn’t feel a thing as the rest of my squad laughed. Only my pride was hurt. I inserted my food packet and looked to Shrift.

  “Oh yes, I put them to one hundred percent. Seeing as you have two days left, you’re going to need to get pretty accustomed to them.”

  I could swear I saw a grin on the Kuruvian’s face as I picked myself up gingerly.

  “Shit, this is going to be a problem,” I said inside my visor. If we could fight in these, we could fight in anything, I resolved.

  Wiry made it look as if he were helping me as he whispered viciously in my ear. “Have to watch out for these new Mechas. It seems that with one slip, you could accidentally kill someone.”

  I could see the maliciousness that lay behind his eyes as he slapped down his faceplate. He moved into the training area. He wasn’t wasting any time as he quickly adapted to the new power output of the Mecha. A few others were gingerly walking, trying to get used to the Mecha’s full power.

  We had found out earlier that we could sync power output with nerve responses. Another thing that took time. Thankfully, I had nothing but time.

  Some people sparred; others walked around to try to get a feel of their new power output. I was with the latter group. Tomorrow we would be fighting and controlling the power output would make a world of difference. I felt an itch on my back, right where the nerve ports connected with the Mecha through the battle suit. I jiggled to try to abate the itch before an idea made me forget it altogether.

  Itch forgotten, I walked over to Shrift. “Shrift, you say that my spine is essentially part of the Mecha, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Instead of having to use coordinating hand and feet gestures to move different areas, could I do it with the nerve taps?”

  Shrift looked to the ceiling in thought. “Yes, though control is hard to retain unless you train a lot.”

  So I spent the rest of the day trying to forget my body and use my arms and legs, without actually using them. It was a pain in the ass and yielded a few interesting results.

  Mecha Battles

  I woke up as annoyed as I had been when I went to sleep. We filed into the armory, a feeling of dread in the air as we grabbed our Mechas and checked them over and ran start-up tests before we got in them.

  Taleel came into the armory. Shrift looked unhappy, to say the least, especially with the way the Sarenmenti stroked the pain implant’s remote.

  “Win for me today, or I will be seeing how many repetitive bouts a human can take from the implant before they show the signs of heart failure.” He grinned smugly before he left.

  Anger flared within me. I wanted to do nothing more than crush his skull with my Mecha or rip off his limbs and beat him with them. We moved to the arena door. Shrift wished us luck and told us to not get his Mechas beaten up too bad. I liked Shrift and the Kuruvians; they were a cross between geniuses and a pack of five-year-olds, determined to find out anything about everything.

  As the door opened, Wiry kicked out my knee, sending me sprawling as he walked into the room. I found myself on the ground, my squad looking at me. I shook my head as I bashed the floor, using the momentum to throw myself up as I landed on my feet. The hydraulics and servos of my Mecha groaned with effort.

  We were slow in getting to the arena. I was happy to see we weren’t the only ones having trouble as the other squad entered the room and had more than one person launch themselves into the roof or at their squad mates.

  It reminded me of the kids when they were getting used to their bodies, except with ten times the power, and a seeming inability to hurt themselves, which turned it into a game instead of a chore.

  Though, with their having to learn their new bodies, I doubted it would be long before they adjusted to using Mechas.

  I half waddled into the center of the room as the other leader did the same. Both of us were grinning and panting as we got there.

  “Fair fight?” I said, coming forward now as most of my opening was quite cumbersome.

  “According to Salchar’s Rules?” the other leader said.

  “What?” I asked as my brain caught up with what she’d said.

  “Salchar’s Rules: nothing that would cause undue harm on the opponent and to make the fight honorable,” the woman said. Iron filled her voice, obviously thinking that I wouldn’t uphold the rules.

  “Well, yeah, that is the basis of it.” I shook the woman’s hand, my brain still reeling. I guess the ones we fought passed it on.

  “What do you mean by that?” Her voice hardened.

  I popped my faceplate so she could see me better. “I’m Salchar,” I said with an awkward grin.

  Her face registered shock before she leaned in to study me, popping her own helmet. Blonde hair fell out. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged—well, as much as the Mecha allowed me.

  “Let me see your hair.”

  I felt Rick move slightly, training and my own paranoia making it as if I had a sixth sense. Plus, he was the most quiet in a Mecha, which wasn’t saying much, but the guy was damned addicted to learning new things, and a Mecha was pretty new.

  I popped my helmet and turned my head, keeping them in view in case they tried anything as the woman studied my hair, then my face and repeated the process.

  “Damn. Yeah, you’re him all right.” A grin spread across her face. She turned back to her squad. “It looks like we’ll be beating Salchar and his own squad today.” A few whoops and excited noises rose up to greet her, but none of them the bloodthirsty cries that had been there when the first fights had started so long ago.

  She turned back to me, popping her faceplate as she grabbed and pumped my hand vigorously, a grin plastered across her face. “Well, it’s good to finally meet you, Salchar. Without your rule, things would’ve gotten a lot worse.” She released my hand. I cocked my head in question. She returned my gaze, sadness in her eyes.

  “We had a few fights without it. You learn just how savage humans can be.” Her eyes turned cold with memories. It took effort to stop myself from flinching from her gaze. “Thank you. Your rules helped us hold onto our humanity.�


  I met her gaze as I offered my hand once again. She grasped it as if it were a lifeline, and I could swear her eyes looked watery.

  “You haven’t even told me your name,” I said with a smile as one appeared on her own face.

  “I’m Deline. Good to meet you, Salchar.”

  “And to meet you, Deline. Let’s have a fair fight and see if we can learn how to fight better in these Mechas, so one day we can pay back the bastards who put us here,” I said as we shared a knowing look.

  “I’ll agree to that,” she said, a grim but determined look on her face.

  “Shall we then?”

  She nodded and I put on my helmet again. We stepped back gingerly in our Mechas as we slowly walked back to our squads.

  She grinned as we got back to our squads, pulling her faceplate down.

  I grinned as I started forward again on uneasy feet. “Get ’em,” I bellowed.

  This went with limited success; people forgot their new strength and launched themselves into the other squad, while others stepped into the ceiling, putting too much power into their legs.

  A few of us moved forward carefully, advancing slowly toward the other squad and wincing as people crashed into armored walls and other people. Shrift was right; it was like human bumper cars.

  A suit rocketed into me from the side, throwing me off into a wall, visor first. My visor spider webbed and my HUD went down as my attacker pummeled my shoulders, trying to disable them.

  Their low tackle had caused them to get one arm stuck underneath me, meaning their other fist was hitting the main plates under my shoulder. Although they were limited in their reach, my elbows lined up with their helmet. I let a light jab go, just tapping my assailant’s helmet. They went to full power and ripped their trapped arm free and turned their attacks to my legs as I pushed from the wall and rolled away from my attacker. I tried to stand, but my right knee and left ankle servos and hydraulics were broken. Without my HUD, I didn’t know what other kind of damage I had. My attacker moved toward me, their armor somehow familiar. I tapped the ground, signaling defeat, as they continued coming. The attacker kicked my helmet viciously, causing me to go sprawling as my neck locked up from the damage.

 

‹ Prev