by G. P. Hudson
The combined mech attack proved lethal and its turret popped high up into the air as it imploded, its own ammunition tearing it to pieces.
All three mechs were now free to focus on the last tank. Recognizing its plight, it moved to retreat. The mech’s gave chase, battering it as it fled. Jon thought this a perfect time to try his hand at running. He transitioned from a walk, to a jog, then a run. His mech hit the top of the street at blistering speed. The two other mechs had cut off the tank’s escape and hammered it until it popped like a birthday balloon. Jon had other problems.
He raced straight for a building. He knew he couldn’t stop, so he changed direction, turning the corner to the adjoining street. He finally managed to slow the mech enough to come to a full stop at the top of the next street. He looked down to see the Chaanisar approaching.
“Any problems operating our mech, Captain?” said Lieutenant Jarvi.
“Problems? You kidding? It’s like riding a bike,” said Jon.
Chapter 46
Explosions rocked the warship. The concussions began at the stern and followed a straight path to the bow, tearing the vessel apart. The fighters that had swarmed it were already moving off to their next target when it blew apart, belching machinery and people into the void.
“This needs to stop,” said Sallas, horrified by the persistent loss of life. What had started as a power play by General Juneau had now turned into an ugly struggle, where soldiers loyal to New Byzantium were being slaughtered mercilessly.
“I agree,” said Colonel Bast. “Soon you won’t have any military left.” In the short time Sallas had known Bast, he had found he could trust him. Bast had taken special care not to take lives needlessly. The tactic of jumping ships away to even the odds was brilliant. All those ships, and their soldiers, remained unharmed. Bast’s steady harassment of the coup fleet had helped to turn the tide of the battle. Now, General Calledonius had a clear advantage.
Calledonius commanded his fleet from on board the massive carrier. The coup fleet had lost their numerical advantage. Now, the carrier’s speedy fighters tipped the scales. Calledonius ordered a group of cruisers to flank the coup fleet while his fighters wreaked havoc. The fighters were fast, numerous and difficult to hit. If the coup ships ignored them, they could swarm vessels at will and finish them off. Alternatively, if the fleet tried to engage the fighters, Calledonius could maneuver his larger warships more effectively. With the cruisers completing their flanking maneuver, the noose was tightening around the coup armada.
“Colonel Bast, can you please hail the coup fleet,” said Sallas.
Bast looked to his communications officer and ordered, “Hail the enemy fleet.”
“Yes, Sir.”
They watched the viewscreen and waited for a response. They had halted jumping maneuvers. The coup fleet were already overwhelmed with General Calledonius. A grid was displayed on one corner of the viewscreen, with markers indicating the various ships in both fleets and their position. It allowed for a bird’s eye view of the battle. Sallas saw that the cruisers had succeeded in their flanking maneuver and were concentrating fire on the isolated ships.
Already the coup ships were moving to try and shore up their left flank, but the damage had was done. They would lose several ships before they had any hope of countering the maneuver. They would weaken at key points and their line would soon collapse. How many more ships would be destroyed in the process? How many more lives would be lost? At last a response arrived to Sallas’s hail.
A man who looked to be in his early forties appeared on the screen. Sallas didn’t recognize the man and wondered how he could not take notice of a man with this much influence. “This is Colonel Frank. Are you offering your surrender, Prime Minister?”
“My surrender? Are you joking?” said Sallas.
“Do you detect humor in my face?”
“No, Colonel. I do not.” Sallas wondered if that hard face had ever cracked a smile. This had to be one of the so-called Colonels who took charge after Captain Pike killed General Juneau. “Colonel Frank, surely you must see that the battle is lost. Your surrender will avoid any more unnecessary casualties.”
“I would rather die in battle,” said Colonel Frank.
“It is not just your life you are giving, Colonel. You are condemning thousands to the same fate. What choice do they have in all this?”
“Yes, choice. You are very fond of the concept, aren’t you? The men and women under my command have no need of your democracy. They are soldiers and they will follow orders. Even if those orders mean their deaths.”
“Damn it Colonel, this is not about ideology. You’re talking about human lives. What will happen to your ideology when the Kemmar invade? How will we fight them with half our military destroyed?”
“The Kemmar can be accommodated easily enough. Why would they invade us if we are agreeable?”
Bast gestured to Sallas, asking for a turn to speak. Sallas nodded hoping he could make some headway, one Colonel to another.
“This is Colonel Bast, of the heavy cruiser Ronin.”
“Yes, the mysterious disappearing ship. You possess an astonishing technology.”
“Colonel, I have faced the Kemmar in battle numerous times now, and I can assure you that they are coming. When they do, they will lay waste to your military and enslave your population. I’ve seen how they operate first hand.”
“And yet you live,” said Frank suspiciously. “How is it that you’ve seen all this and yet live to tell the tale?”
“You have seen my ship, have you not? You know its capabilities.”
Frank nodded.
“Colonel Frank, are you loyal to New Byzantium?”
“Of course,” said Frank, pretending to be offended by the question.
“Then you need to put aside your differences and prepare for the Kemmar, or New Byzantium will end up a Kemmar slave colony.”
Frank stared back at Bast, contemplating Bast’s words. “Stand by,” he said finally, and the transmission ended.
Bast turned to Sallas and said, “Do you think he will comply?”
“I don’t know,” said Sallas.
Sallas turned to the tactical display, cringing as the fighters swarmed another coup warship. A cruiser. How many souls were on board that ship? Why didn’t he know? He should know these things. Those people risked their lives for New Byzantium, at the very least he should know how many served on board.
He watched as the broken cruiser spat more good men and women into the blackness of space. Hundreds of bodies. If Colonel Frank didn’t surrender, this would be a massacre. Hell, it was one already.
“Sir, you are being hailed,” said the communications officer to Colonel Bast. “It is Colonel Frank.”
“Proceed,” said Bast.
Sallas looked over as Frank’s face appeared on Bast’s screen.
“Colonel Bast,” said Frank. “I refuse to surrender to Prime Minister Sallas, or to General Calledonius.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” said Bast, his face expressionless.
“Colonel, you are a worthy opponent, and you strike me as an exceptional commander. It is for that reason that I am offering my fleet’s surrender to you.”
“I see,” said Bast, his face emotionless. “In that case, I accept your surrender.”
“Thank you, Colonel,” said Frank. “I am broadcasting this information to my fleet now. Please have General Calledonius cease his attack.”
“You have my word,” said Bast.
As surprised as Sallas was at the exchange, he couldn’t help but feel that there was an unspoken understanding between the two men.
Colonel Frank produced a sidearm and said to Bast, “Good luck, Colonel.” He raised his sidearm, pointed it at his temple, and fired, blowing out the side of his skull.
“No,” said Sallas, but it was all over. “Why would he do that?” Sallas asked Bast.
“You would imprison him and force him to endure a humiliating public t
rial. For him this is preferable. He fought. He lost. His life is forfeit.”
“Unbelievable,” muttered Sallas.
“Prime Minister,” said Bast. “You need to contact General Calledonius immediately and have him halt his attacks.”
“Yes,” said Sallas, still stunned by what he had witnessed. “Of course.”
Chapter 47
Jon’s mech crashed into a crowd of coup soldiers. His heavy guns blazed as he plowed through the line, tearing apart their soft flesh. Only a handful of coup soldiers wore any powered armor. The overwhelming majority either wore exoskeletons to augment their speed and strength, or nothing at all. Why wouldn’t all the soldiers be issued suits?
When they reached the battlefield the coup forces had already repositioned some troops to guard their rear. Still, with General Calledonius’s troops pressing from the front, and the Ronin force attacking their rear, the coup soldiers were placed in a vice. The lack of powered armor would serve to multiply the effectiveness of the Ronin assault. However, the coup forces were entrenched and defeating them would mean a long, bloody fight.
Some of the coup soldiers broke ranks at the sight of Jon’s mech. The rest stood their ground to shoot it out. While brave, it was foolish. They were merely an annoyance to Jon, who easily swatted them down with the mech’s guns.
“I expected more resistance than this,” said Kevin.
“Their heavy weapons are probably deployed towards their front line,” said Jon.
“Yeah, but they knew we were coming. They’ve sent tanks and fighters already. Why wouldn’t they reinforce their rear?”
Suddenly Jon’s mech flew backwards, taking multiple powerful blasts. He stayed on his feet, but his HUD flashed a warning that the mech’s armor was below fifty percent.
“Looks like you just got your answer,” Jon said.
He searched for the source as he scrambled for cover. The enemy had finally moved in heavier weapons. These were smaller and mobile. They had multiple legs like a caterpillar, a square base and a micro version of a tank’s turret. They appeared to be unmanned. But they were quick, and packed a powerful punch.
One of the little beasts chased Jon, blasting him several times from behind. Jon lurched forward. Warnings flashed on his HUD. His armor was now at thirty five percent. Jon spun around and fired at the bot, but it scurried out of the way. He kept shooting. His turn to chase now.
It was fast, but so was Jon. He decimated a few of the tiny legs and it stumbled momentarily, righting itself quickly.
Jon ran after it, knowing it was a mistake. He fired again and it scrambled sideways, but swiveled its turret around and shot off several rapid rounds back at Jon.
It scored direct hits and dropped the mech’s armor down to twenty percent. It fired again. Jon dove. He tucked and rolled. The bot continued firing, their roles again reversed. Jon came out of the roll and broke into a run.
“Someone get that damn thing off my six,” he shouted.
“Stand by,” said one of the Chaanisar mech pilots.
Jon lunged for cover behind a wall and turned to fire on the bot as it rounded the corner. He saw a couple of its legs first, and then a flash as it was destroyed.
“Target eliminated,” said the other mech pilot.
“Thanks,” said Jon.
“How many of these things are there?” said Kevin, falling back. “They’re everywhere.”
Back on his feet, Jon saw that the bots were hitting the Ronin forces hard. They were being forced back, scrambling for cover, struggling to hold on. He looked to the Reiver contingent. They were fending off a group of the machines that had pushed their way into the Reiver ranks. He spotted Breeah. She was fighting hard. They all were, but they were being forced back nonetheless. To his horror, a couple of the bots had managed to get around behind them, cutting them off. They were going to be slaughtered.
Jon surged into action. Taking off at a sprint he raced for the Reiver position. Reivers fell as the bots closed in. Jon targeted the machines behind the Reivers and opened fire. His guns pounding one of them until its armor gave way and it blew apart. He moved on to the second machine scoring direct hits. It swung its gun around toward Jon, who unphazed continued firing. Unable to get of a single shot, the bot exploded in a tornado of shrapnel and tiny legs.
Reaching the Reivers Jon added the mech’s muscle to their effort. His guns fired incessantly, bursts of white flame accompanying the heavy ordnance.
“Breeah, fall back. I’ll hold them off,” said Jon.
Breeah didn’t respond. The Reivers did not retreat. They charged forward.
“What the hell are you doing?” said Jon.
“Keep shooting,” said Breeah.
The Reivers fanned out around the bots, throwing grenades and laying down fire. The multiple grenades exploded destroying another bot and surely damaging the others. Some moved their turrets, attempting to get a lock on the Reivers. Jon turned his focus to them, firing continuously. One by one they began to fall. It was working.
A single bot kept Jon in its crosshairs. It fired. The blast caught the hip. The armor’s integrity fell to under five percent. Alarms invaded his HUD, as the hip joint gave out. The mech crashed sideways into the ground. He tried to get up, but the mech wouldn’t comply. His fears were confirmed in the diagnostics display. The mech’s hip joint had sustained heavy damage. It wouldn’t be moving again without major repairs.
He had to get out of the metal giant. He accessed the controls to open the hatch. Nothing. He tried again. The hatch didn’t budge. He was trapped.
“My hatch won’t open,” Jon said over his comm.
The Reivers rallied to Jon’s position, encircling the prone mech. They formed a protective wall around the downed mech. With the mech lying on the ground, Jon couldn’t get a good view of anything. He tapped into Breeah’s combat suit and broadcast her feed to his HUD. It didn’t look good.
“Reivers, fall back,” he said.
“Stand your ground,” ordered Jonas.
“What are you doing?” shouted Jon. “Get the hell out of here.”
“I am not under your command, Jon Pike.”
“Goddamnit Jonas, there’s too many of them.”
Jonas didn’t respond. Jon tried the hatch again. Nothing. He kicked at it. Still nothing. He checked Breeah’s video feed to find two bots closing in on her, turrets taking aim.
“Breeah look out!” said Jon.
He held his breath. His HUD was filled with a blinding flash of light. No. No. No. He thought. Please no. Filled with dread he called up Breeah’s vitals on his HUD. She couldn’t be dead. Probably just injured. They could fix that. They would fix that.
But she wasn’t dead. She was fine. What just happened? He went back to the video feed. It was clearing up. Just ahead now lay the charred remains of the attacking bots. The ground exploded with strafing fire from above and he watched more of the enemy go down.
“Does anybody know what the hell is going on?” Jon broadcast.
“The orbital battle is over,” said Lieutenant Jarvi over the commm. “The coup fleet has surrendered.”
“Excellent,” said Jon, watching intently as the tide of battle began to turn. “Where did the fighters come from?”
“They’re from General Calledonius’s carrier,” said Jarvi.
Heavy ordnance fell from the sky. The light so blinding Jon had to look away. This last wave of fire didn’t come from a fighter. Either the Ronin, or one of Calledonius’s ships was contributing the weight of its guns to the battle. With orbital support, the Colonels had no hope, and Jon expected their surrender in short order. The battle for New Byzantium was over.
Chapter 48
Colonel Bast stood in the Ronin’s sickbay waiting for Doctor Ellerbeck. He listened to the sounds of his ship and crew. Information from the ship’s systems streamed in front of his eyes, updating him on the state of the ship’s repairs and readiness. He heard the chatter of his crew. Several still used the
brain chips for communication, and as their commanding officer, Bast could eavesdrop on any of that chatter.
What would it be like without all that background noise? He had known nothing else since he had been a child. Soon it would all disappear. He would left with only his own thoughts. What would that quiet be like? Could he tolerate it? He didn’t know, but would soon find out. And that was the reason he would have his chip removed first. There were several risks associated with the procedure, and as the commander, he would take the risk first. If the procedure was found to be too dangerous, only he would suffer the consequences.
The Ronin was a good ship with an excellent crew. Even more so now that they had joined forces with Captain Pike’s crew and the Reivers. The battle for New Byzantium had created a real bond. They were now truly united as one crew.
He had ordered the ship’s fabricators to create new uniforms for the entire crew. If they were going to be united, they needed to look the part. A new uniform would make everyone feel like they actually belonged. It would also help prevent any feelings of animosity. Juttari uniforms might encourage recriminations. Too many had suffered at the hands of the Juttari. The uniform had no place on this ship. Along with the new uniform, all Juttari symbols would be removed from the ship. The new symbol of the Ronin would be the official insignia.
With Prime Minister Sallas back in power, New Byzantium became a trusted ally. The Ronin would maintain its independence, but work closely with Sallas, and General Calledonius. They made preparations for what many considered would be an inevitable attack. The Colonels who had led the coup were taken into custody. They soon confessed. They admitted that the coup was sponsored primarily by Franz Stumpf, CEO of Amboss Corporation, together with a few of the other corporations. They wanted to quash New Byzantium’s fledgling democracy, so that none of their populations got any ideas. Unfortunately, now that the cat was out of the bag, the corporations might decide to wage outright war against New Byzantium. Even without war, tensions would remain high. The Kemmar threat, though still distant, was an ever present danger. Whatever happened, New Byzantium needed to be ready.