by W. C. Bauers
“The battlenet is down, ma’am. We’re being jammed.”
“Cycle the net. Transmit new codes. Get me Captain Yates. Do it now!”
The static continued for a split second and then the Marines in her toon were talking over each other, and then yelling over each other. At that moment a platform to Promise’s three o’clock locked her up and fired.
Promise’s arm jerked up, her gauntlet tensing without her express orders. Small explosions blossomed in front of her as her minigun’s penetrators intercepted the first flight of missiles aimed for her. Bond’s work. She’d given her AI standing orders not to wait for hers when it counted, and she’d agonized over the parameters of said orders to ensure that Bond understood when and when not to act. When and when not to fire. The platform crumpled under her continued weight of fire before going down.
Promise started counting. “One.” Her HUD glitched and three icons simply disappeared. Several more changed color from green to crimson.
Forty-seven
MAY 25TH, 92 A.E., STANDARD CALENDAR, 0908 HOURS
THE KORAZIM SYSTEM, PLANET SHEOL
COMBAT OUTPOST DANNY TRUE
For all their preparations, Charlie Battalion never planned on facing the enemy within, and here it was staring them in the face. Their own tech had turned against them.
If we don’t see relief soon my people don’t stand a chance. Promise spun and ducked, juked left, and squeezed the trigger of her wep.
A flight of missiles whizzed by Promise’s shoulder and hammered the dropship behind her, leaving a small gash in the behemoth’s side. The platforms were swarming her people from every direction, and firing on them with impunity. Grossly outnumbered, her Marines were firing back, and the dropship, nearby buildings, and the other vessels on the pad were paying the price.
Too far away to help, Promise watched one of her Marines run wildly to avoid fire. When the Marine phased out of view she wanted to rip him a new one. A split second later an armored gauntlet and then a forearm and shoulder reappeared. Because the net was scrambled Promise couldn’t get a solid fix on who it was, but she was willing to bet it was one of her greenhorns who’d just activated the Witchfield. Without authorization.
Gaawd bless!
“Bond, get me a link to that Marine. She’s going to get herself killed.”
Given her distance from the Marine, and all the solid particles and gasses in the air, it was a small miracle that she saw the disembodied arm pumping up and down at all. As the colonel had feared, the Witchfield hadn’t held, and the Marine’s limb had fallen out of phase.
“All toons,” Promise barked over the battlenet. “Don’t cloak. I repeat, don’t cloak. There’s too much—”
It materialized in the corner of her HUD, streaked in with zero warning, sliced the air above the crown of her helmet, and scorched the metal as it passed by. Even in her mechsuit Promise felt the hair on her head stand at attention. The explosion rocked her in her mechboots and took her to the ground. As she pushed up, she again caught sight of the partially phased Marine. I’m too late. A toon of platforms had taken notice too, and as they turned toward the half-seen Marine they opened fire. The driver’s helmet fell out of phase while the rest of her armor rippled in and out of view. Direct hits peeled away precious armor and speed. Now the Marine was limping, stumbling, and desperately trying to turn around and bring her weapon to bear.
A tear slipped from the corner of Promise’s eye. The hallmark of a Marine. A sister of the close fight. Then the Witchfield failed and Promise’s heart sank, and all she could do was watch death’s door yawn wide open. The air swelled with enemy missile fire and explosive penetrators. She didn’t have time to watch the dust settle. There was nothing left to see anyway.
Promise got to her feet and screamed, ducked, shuffled sideways, and vented her rage into an obstinate platform. That made …
Two.
The captain’s voice broke through the chaos over a company-wide channel. “ALCON, the platforms are comprised. Neutralize them. Rally point, here.”
Promise heard Captain Yates grunt over the battlenet and the sounds of gagged weapons fire bleeding over the comm.
A ring dropped on Promise’s HUD, roughly halfway between her position and the captain’s, near a small depot not far from the dropship’s nose. To reach it, she’d have to plow through a lot of metal, metal that only moments before had been on her side. Unless …
“En route, ma’am,” Promise said. “One mike, over.”
“Copy that. I’m almost there.” Her link to Yates terminated.
“Red Toon, converge on me.” Promise spit out the order rapid-fire as she ran for the dropship. “Skim the hull. Slay the demons.”
The hull of the dropship curved in along the belly, and the bottom of the curve was the only cover close enough to reach. The dropship would get her toon most of the way there. She’d hug the vessel until she had to break cover, and then sprint the rest of the way to the depot.
Fifty meters out, she spotted five shadows running through the embers, and they were headed roughly in her direction. They were almost to the depot when it exploded. Then five became two. A secondary blast picked up the survivors and threw them backward. When neither got up, Promise refreshed her HUD, locked up another platform, and cut loose a flight of missiles. She pinged both downed mechsuits and received one reply. PFC Jupiter Cervantes was down for sure. Facedown by the look of it. And if that’s Jupiter then the other Marine must be the captain. Promise wanted to scream.
Three. New orders flowed from her mouth without hesitation. “Slipstitch to ALCON, I’m assuming command of Victor Company.” Promise reverted to her callsign to minimize any confusion. “The skipper’s down. Repeat, the skipper’s down. To anyone who can hear me, head to the rally point.”
Staff Sergeant Go-Mi’s voice broke over the net. “—tenant Paen, do you read? Lieutenant Paen, do you co—”
“Staff Sergeant, say again, over.” Promise came along the dropship’s side. Go-Mi’s icon barely registered on her HUD, flickered a moment, then disappeared. “Staff Sergeant, what’s your status, over?”
She shuffled right, fired, skipped left, fired, flipped over a platform, and landed facing its backside. Fired and destroyed.
There’s too many, and they’re everywhere. I need … Promise pulled the carbine from her back with her off hand. More. Her mechsuit could handle the minigun with her dominant hand, as long as she kept it to short bursts of fire. She raked a toon of platforms as they attempted to flank her position. Pulling her arms apart, the carbine swept right and the minigun left. Dead mechs tumbled to the ground on both sides.
Three to seven dropped like falling stars.
“—trapped, ma’am,” Go-Mi’s crackling voice broke through the net. “—mech tripped the manual override to the blast door … urned and fired on us. We can’t—”
Promise watched Kathy drop two platforms and then bolt toward her position. A third mech was bearing down on her guardian’s three o’clock and it appeared that Kathy hadn’t spotted it. Promise tried to warn Kathy but her words only bounced back. It was the worst possible time for a bad connection. The platform opened fire and a dozen missiles raced toward Kathy’s position. Without thinking, Promise swung her minigun around and fired from the hip, prayed she didn’t end up hitting Kathy instead. The air exploded as the minigun’s penetrators tore across the missiles’ flight path, setting the air on fire. Several projectiles still broke through and Kathy disappeared into a blanket of ash and smoke.
“No!” Promise snarled. She swung her weps around and acquired lock with the mini and the carbine. Fired. Her target folded in on itself before crumpling to the ground.
Eight.
Van Peek burst through the explosions, his railgun steadily coughing solid-core rounds into the stewed air. Somehow Kathy Prichart was bent over his shoulder and she appeared to be pounding on his backplate.
“—down, put … down, put me—” Kathy sounded cra
zed. Van Peek didn’t set her on her feet until they were at Promise’s side.
Promise took a knee while Kathy and Van Peek dropped into a guard position on either side of her. “Sergeant Go-Mi, blow a hole in the hull if you have to. There should be a crate of explosives somewhere inside the aft compartment. I need you in the fight.” She still couldn’t locate the captain on her HUD. “Captain, do you read, over?” If Yates was only knocked unconscious her mechsuit’s triage capabilities should have had her up and running by now. Static and muffled explosions answered her. “Bond, locate her.”
“Strange, I can’t fix her position.”
“Last known?”
“The supply depot.”
“Keep trying, and get me the colonel.”
“Sorry, ma’am. I’m not able to raise him either. When you cycled the codes we lost contact with the rest of the battalion.”
“Keep trying.”
“Roger that, ma’am.”
“And launch my whiskers. All of them. Get me eyes in the sky.”
Missiles burst from a cloud of smoke and peppered the deck around her, kicking more ash and chunks of the deck into the air. Kathy and Van Peek dove in opposite directions, plowed through ash up to their faceplates. Promise rolled up and sideways to minimize her profile. As she got to her feet, the force of the blast picked her up and slammed her into the dropship’s hull, and the feed to her minigun died. The impact cracked the outer shell of her helmet too, and it knocked the wind out of her lungs. She rag-dolled to the deck, and came to rest spread-eagled on her back. Pinpricks filled her vision and they weren’t coming from her HUD. Kathy and Van Peek were standing over her and returning fire. Above them was the belly of the dropship. To the left was the ashen sky. She couldn’t remember where she was or what she’d been doing. Was it snowing? An oddly shaped flake settled onto her visor. I thought snow was white. Then the ground shook and bits of dirt and debris pelted her faceplate and jolted her back to the present. Promise rolled over as a platform fell from the sky and broke apart on impact. A twisted piece of metal struck the ground a half meter away and it might have been a foot.
Oh, right. That was trying to kill me. Promise blinked, swallowed hard.
Kathy took a knee beside Promise. “Ma’am, we’ve got to go. Can do?” Prichart tapped the trigger of her tri-barrel, and three continuous beams sliced an advancing platform from top to bottom. She pulled her backup weapon and split her field of fire, arms sweeping over Promise’s body, her tri-barrel parallel with the deck and her carbine to the side. “Any time, ma’am.”
Promise pushed to her feet and rotated her back to Kathy’s. Her mini lay in the ash at her feet, its ammo feed cleanly severed. Promise racked the weapon between her shoulder blades and drew her back up. The carbine felt too light in her hands. Her magazines wouldn’t last long.
She was seeing mostly single now and the stars in her vision had almost faded out. Well, make that single and a half. She figured she’d just aim for the center of the blur and make do.
“Kathy, I’m fine. Thanks for the cover.” She assessed Kathy’s MEDSYS and exhaled in relief. Kathy’s armor was intact but her guardian wouldn’t survive another hit like that, and neither would Promise, for that matter.
Her HUD glitched again. Prichart and Van Peek, who were beside her, and Bohmbair, who was … Promise turned toward his position. She brought up the magnification, doubled back, and then her eyes stopped over the smoldering hunk of metal half buried in the ash. There. No. She let loose with everything she had and another mech fell.
Nine. She pulled the depleted magazine, loaded another. Felt the weapon quake as it cycled. Then scanned for her next target.
She couldn’t get a visual on Maxi or Blue Toon, but at least she had his Marines back on her HUD. On the dropship’s other side, Blue Toon was out of position, the toon’s third point a crimson blip on her HUD. Two more from Blue were glowing orange. Maxi’s and Atumbi’s icons were so close together they were nearly indistinguishable from each other, and they were surrounded by enemy icons.
They’re fighting back-to-back. We have to get to them.
“We check Bohmbair and then head for Maxi. Don’t stop for anything else.”
Promise was at a full sprint before Kathy or Van Peek could protest. Multiple tangos closed upon her position. Fired. A spray of hypervelocity penetrators ravaged her armor and her carbine. Promise tossed the now ruined weapon and pulled her force blade as she entered melee range. She sliced cleanly through a nearby platform, and then rotated into a second, came out and then up, and arced downward into a third. “Bohmbair, do you copy.”
She was so mad she forgot to count her kills. “Bohmbair, do you read, over?” And then she was at Bohmbair’s side, knees deep in ash. She refused to look away.
Van Peek took a knee and rolled the young Montanan onto his back. “No.” Bohmbair’s visor was cracked and his head was an unrecognizable mess.
The grief nearly unraveled her resolve. She flashed back to their first meeting aboard RNS Kearsarge. Then Private Bohmbair had been so proud to join Victor Company. He’d been proud of his Montana roots and prouder still to serve under the command of the most decorated Montanan in the RAW-MC. Her. They’d shared more than just the Corps and now he was blotted from the ’verse. The bright-eyed youngster who had joined the RAW-MC because of what she’d done on Montana.
“Kathy, Nate—we need to get to Maxi. Stay on me.” Then to Bond, “Activate the Banning Shield, continuous bucklers on each arm.” She sprinted forward, once again leaving her guardian and Van Peek in her wake. She heard Kathy’s objection over the comm and paid no attention to it.
Two cerulean energy circles blossomed around her armor, one on each forearm. They were about as large as the tire of a midsized groundcar, and while they held out, virtually indestructible. The Banning Shield had saved her life back on Montana, back when it was a one-off. The BS had encased her mechsuit in a bubble of pure energy and all but fried her fusion plant. BUWEPS went back to the drawing board and returned with the current model that every mechanized Marine Corps officer now deployed with. The new version could be used as a bubble for longer periods of time without slagging the driver’s fusion plant, or it could be split into multiple smaller shields or even a shield wall to provide point defenses.
Promise raised one arm, which absorbed a burst of penetrators and then a missile. The force of the hits killed a lot of her forward momentum but didn’t breach the shield, or scorch her armor. They were almost to the dropship’s engines when Maxi’s icon turned yellow.
Forty-eight
MAY 25TH, 92 A.E., STANDARD CALENDAR, 0918 HOURS
THE KORAZIM SYSTEM, PLANET SHEOL
COMBAT OUTPOST DANNY TRUE
Promise and Kathy came around the rear of the dropship and passed through the shadow of the craft’s wing. The aft ramp was extended, its end buried in snowy ash. Dead platforms were piled waist-high near the base of the ramp. True to Staff Sergeant Go-Mi’s words, the blast door was down. Unless Go-Mi could restore power to the door or find an alternative way out …
Something dropped from the belly of the dropship, just to the side of the ramp, and then ducked behind it and out of sight. Then another something hit the deck before disappearing too. For a moment Promise thought they must be Go-Mi’s people, out at last. Perhaps they’d cut through the deck plating and forced their way outside. Missile fire disabused her of that notion a split second later and nearly took her out.
“Down,” Promise barked as remotely piloted platforms started pouring through the dropship’s guts. Her HUD lit up with incoming. She shuffled sideways, and then pivoted and leapt over her guardian, and came down hard on one knee. Now she was between the threat and Kathy. Her shield morphed on the fly from two spheres into a flattened azure wall as tall and broad as two mechsuits, enough to shield both her and Kathy.
Promise hit the deck with such force her shield drove itself over a meter into the earth. Kathy braced herself against Pro
mise’s back as missile after missile spent itself on the shield, and then Van Peek was at her other side. “Horde launchers to full auto,” Promise ordered. They arched up and over the shield, and targeted the dropship’s landers and the mechs hiding beneath it. Dozens more raced to catch up, and their explosions stirred up so much ash and debris that for a moment Promise lost sight of the dropship. The sound of twisting metal was unmistakable and a sickening crunch shook the ground beneath them. Promise held her breath as the dropship listed into view. One of its landers must have failed. Then Maxi’s icon turned orange and Promise’s shield burned out.
“Slipstitch to ALCON. Form on my rally point.” She dropped a ring into her HUD and pushed it out across the battlenet. Maxi’s downed suit was at the epicenter and there was a second icon too, Atumbi’s. Still green and moving, now dodging, now returning firing. Now orange.
“All points, move!” Then she ordered the unthinkable over the battalion battlenet. “Broken Arrow. Repeat, Broken Arrow. Direct all fire on my position!”
As Promise, Kathy, and Van Peek rounded the other side of the dropship, two light attack craft buzzed the deck overhead, stirring the ash below. Visibility was bad enough already, Promise thought. She didn’t need help from above. Promise lost sight of her toonmates in the up-stir. Something blew up to her left, rained confusion and debris. She checked her HUD to gather her bearings and find Maxi’s position. Over there. Wait, now he’s over there. Her HUD was seeing ghosts and she needed hard contacts. She split the distance and ran as fast as her mechsuit’s legs would carry her.
Entering clearer air, she saw a platform blow apart on her left and a second pivot upward and fire. Inbound missiles hit true, obliterating the platform and the earth below. The newly formed crater was so large that Promise had to alter course to avoid it, and she almost fell in anyway.
The LACs split and came around for another go at it. The roar of cannon fire and missiles overwhelmed Promise’s externals and made her wince. Heavy penetrators ripped into the platforms with impunity, taking them by twos and fours. Several struck Promise’s armor and bit deep, but at this point she didn’t care. Their bellies opened and toon after toon of RAW-MC mechsuits started dropping from the LACs, five-by-fives. Promise saw their boosters light off at the last possible second prior to touchdown. The cavalry had arrived. Charlie Battalion and its god of war, Lieutenant Colonel Price Halvorsen, stomped the deck like the god’s own war hammer.