Edge of Solace (A Star Too Far)

by Casey Calouette

  Yamaguchi looked back and shifted his weight. He snatched a glance at his display and saw the squads moving into position.

  “The Malta docked, sent us off, and went to engage the cruiser again. The last we saw,” William paused and his eyes lost focus a moment. “The Malta was hulled.”

  “Shit.”

  “Shit indeed, Lieutenant.”

  “Prognosis, Doc?” Yamaguchi asked a medic named Mullins.

  Mullins glanced over at William and shrugged. “He’ll be okay, LT. Frangible round, looks worse than it is.” The medic handed a small infantry pack of nanite patches to William.

  “Looks worse, eh?” William chuckled and grimaced.

  Yamaguchi nodded and scanned the group. “Get with the Ambassador, he’s heading into the cedars.”

  William glared back. Some of the color came back into his face. “Absolutely not, Lieutenant, I’m leading my men.”

  Yamaguchi started to laugh and stopped when he realized William was serious.

  “Put us to work.”

  Yamaguchi nodded slowly. A few Marines, a bunch of Sailors and a banged up Officer. They couldn’t keep up with the power armor, but they could buy Mcrager some time. “We’ve got an additive cell. Protect it.”

  William nodded. “Where are you from, Lieutenant?”

  “A valley east of Arsia Mons.”

  “Mars,” William said.

  “Mars.” Yamaguchi called up his display and pinged Hoffman. “Get an escort here Hoffman, Lieutenant Grace is going to guard Mcrager. They’ll need weapons, armor, and a comms tune up.”

  “You got it, LT. I’m sending Dropov.”

  Yamaguchi pointed out the door. “There’s a Private named Dropov coming, he’ll get you to our billets. Get what you need and support Mcrager.”

  The two men stood a pace apart and looked at each other in silence. They both knew how these sort of things went. They could only hold out so long, regardless how valiantly they fought. Eventually Canaan would fall and they both knew it.

  Yamaguchi dropped the visor. All that showed now was the visage of a skull with a slight hint of green from the eyes. He turned the suit and loped out to the door. He stopped, spun, and saluted. “Give ‘em hell, Lieutenant.”

  William returned the salute. “Give ‘em hell, Lieutenant.”

  The sky dimmed. Yamaguchi stood in the open and scanned around. His troops were in position. It was time to loose the dogs of war. “Launch the drones.”

  *

  “Abraham!” Abdul whispered. The Maronite youth walked softly on the wooden floor.

  Abraham turned his head from the heavy workbench and narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?” He returned his gaze to a panel of wood and continued planing wide shavings.

  “I just got word from my father—they’re here!”

  “Who?”

  Abdul slapped Abraham on the arm. “Who he says! Who! Who else?”

  “My father said—”

  “Bah! They’re here!” Abdul said. His eyes were wide as he spoke.

  “But what would we do?” Abraham asked. He laid the iron plane onto the bench and crossed his arms.

  “My father says—”

  “Faris says what?” Thomas said in a level voice.

  The boys were both silent as they looked. Thomas stood in the doorway of the workshop. Abdul shifted and glanced outside.

  The large Anabaptist seemed menacing. His dark beard was like an anchor on his chest. His arms crossed in a manner that highlighted the size of his biceps.

  “What does your father say that is worth bothering my son while he works?” Thomas asked.

  Abraham looked to Abdul and nodded slightly.

  “He says that we’re forming a militia.”

  Thomas looked down at Abdul and nodded slowly. “Go Abdul. The Ambassador says you are to leave the city.”

  “But Mr. Yoder! We—”

  “No.” The tone was final.

  Abdul slunk out the door. He cast a glance at Abraham before slipping away.

  “Abraham, I know how you feel.” Thomas crossed the room. He ran a calloused hand on the edge of the board. “I too was once young.”

  Abraham watched his father in silence. He could tell his father wanted to talk, but was finding the words. “This is our home.”

  “The Lord provides. Faith is a difficult thing, son.”

  “What if this is different?” It felt different, monumental. Not an argument about land or religion, but a threat to them all.

  Thomas set the plane aside. “If it is different, we will have faith.” He walked slowly to the edge of the door and turned his head back. “Trust in me, son, we have always found a way. The Lord provides.”

  Abraham nodded to his father. The only parable he could think of was that the Lord helps those that help themselves.

  “Clean up your bench and head to the church. We will pray there and wait for what the day brings.”

  “Yes, Father.” Abraham watched him leave. He turned to the bench and straightened up the tools. He brushed the resinous chips onto the floor and scooped them up. He emptied the chips and saw a large thick handled maul.

  He didn’t know why but he grabbed that maul and hefted it in his hands. It was like an axe melded with a sledgehammer. They would use it to split gnarly bits of wood. It was the only thing like a weapon he knew. He grasped it below the steel head and walked out the door with it.

  The church was large, white, and simple. Men, women and children streamed towards the plain building. They were quiet, as if a funeral was about to begin.

  Abraham waited a moment with the maul against his leg. Everyone was preoccupied with entering the church. He walked around the edge of the entrance. A lush bed of grass grew in the shade. The maul blended perfectly.

  He turned and looked back to the spot. Only the very back edge of the handle showed in the grass. It felt better having something nearby. If all else he could feel foolish later. For now he had something on Abdul. While the Maronite ran to the cedars he had a maul.

  *

  The room was cool, but not cold. A slight draft of crisp air spiced with the smell of cumin drifted in from beneath the alloy door. The walls held a wide panel of woven cloth. It was a simple room: a bunk, a table, a chair. Archie sat slumped with his jaw on his chest.

  The view screen blinked images. The stream appeared not long before showing a UC Navy frigate engaging a Sa’Ami cruiser. Cheering echoed from the halls outside as a massive barrage of missiles landed on the frigate.

  He watched, unable to avoid the view, and felt even more depressed. The room was almost humiliating. He wanted to be a prisoner, not a guest. In a sweeping motion he slammed the chair back and dropped into the pushup position.

  One. Two. Three.

  …Sixty-three.

  He stopped and stood. His back cold as the sweat ran down. The fight was still going on. He walked over and watched as the cruiser took a blow to the nose.

  When he returned from the shower the view screen was blank. He knew how the fight was going to end. They had things he’d never seen before. The hope had risen when the screen first flickered on, but after the first blows he knew the outcome.

  The door slid open and the sounds of loud conversation filtered past the guard at the door. The man held a stubby weapon. His eyes watched Archie from beneath a crystal clear visor. He stepped aside.

  Captain Asa walked past and stood near the door. “Major.”

  “What do you want?” Archie snapped.

  She smiled slightly and nodded to the screen. “We can hold our own.”

  Archie looked up at the screen and saw nothing but an inky starscape.

  “We’ll be heading in soon. After we’ve secured the planet we’ll move on and you can see the Commandant again.”

  The Commandant. Archie felt his shoulders tingle. The anger rose inside him. “Where is he off to now?”

  “Not far, a system away.”

  He caught himself. “Is he
raiding another station? Slaughtering civilians?”

  Asa stepped closer and leaned towards him. “He’s a great man! His vision. His skill. His grace. We’ll be the brightest star, the rising sun.”

  “How you gonna do that? You whooped a single frigate. The rest of the fleet is going to come here and shitstomp you.”

  She sniffed and stepped away to face the screen. “What if the price is too high? Will they?”

  “No price is too high.”

  “Don’t be foolish, Major. Everyone has a breaking point.”

  “Or you just implant nanites into their skull?”

  Captain Asa turned and faced the Major. “The Commandant has methods. You are a valuable prize.”

  Prize.

  Archie exploded from the chair and crashed into the Captain. Her body slammed against the wall with a crack. He tried to spin fast enough to face the guard.

  He sensed the blow a fraction of a second before it landed. The shadow of the baton crossed his nose and then he was down. His head was a ball of pain so intense that his vision was stained white.

  “You!” Captain Asa cried out. She spat thick blood onto the floor and leaned against the wall. “You! Twice now you’ve bested me. I’ll kill you when the Commandant is done with you.”

  Archie tried to rise. His arms were weak as the nerves didn’t seem to work right.

  Asa leaned down close to the Major. Her voice was light, a whisper. “Your fleets will be dashed on a great Sa’Ami wall. They won’t even get to fight. We have things you can’t imagine. You’ve lost this war and it has barely begun.”

  He laid on the cool floor and felt the texture on his cheek. Footsteps were followed by the clank of a strider. He focused on those words. He’d lost everything now. But that knowledge he kept close.

  Was she bluffing? A great Sa’Ami wall seemed ridiculous. No wall or barrier could stop a Haydn drive. Or could it?

  The Gracelle and K162 had always been neutral. They had technologies beyond even the Sa’ami. Would they pick a side? Everyone had a price. Everyone had a breaking point.

  They dragged him out of his room. He locked eyes with Captain Asa and remembered another thing she said. He bested her twice. Was she the suit of power armor he wrestled on the transfer station?

  They tossed him back inside the small cell. He curled up on the floor and felt the ship blink once again. Alarms sounded. Vibrations pulsed through the hull. They were launching dropcaps.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Penance

  Yamaguchi’s display was alive with drifting and shifting icons. Small green dots showed the battlescape drones while different colors and shapes detailed hidden hunters, missile drones, and close combat drones. A few white diamonds lazed around the edges with a cloud of escorts nearby.

  “Squads, report.” He ran between a group of white and black clad Anabaptists.

  “In position,” Sergeant Bale said.

  “Holding,” Sergeant Craig said.

  “Ready to rock,” Hoffman said.

  “Still sober,” Mcrager said.

  Yamaguchi nodded in his suit. “Watch the link. Drones are going to paint anything. Keep moving in your zone until we see what they do.” He didn’t need to review it, the orders were already laid out.

  “We got any eyes up top, LT?” Hoffman asked.

  “Negative, all orbital platforms are down. We’re blind up top.”

  Grumbles came over the comms.

  “Shaddup you. Navy gave em hell, right LT?” Yamaguchi said.

  “That’s right. Now it’s your turn,” William Grace replied.

  Yamaguchi rounded a corner and came upon an odd sight. A group of Maronite men were huddling against a whitewashed building with assault rifles. He took cover next to them. “What are you doing?”

  A man with a mustache as bushy as his eyebrows replied, “militia, sir.” The man looked scared out of wits, and just slightly drunk.

  “There’s no militia here, get the hell out.” Yamaguchi looked at the group. Fear. He toned up the volume. “Get out of the city.”

  The man shifted his wide mustache and stood his ground. “No, this is our home. If the Anabaptists won’t fight we will.”

  “Protect the civilians moving out of town.”

  The man stood proud. “We’ll fight them here!”

  “Listen to me you moron. When the Sa’Ami come down they’re going to have striders so fast you won’t even be able to shoot. They’ll eviscerate you and then crush your skulls.” Yamaguchi glared at each. The visage of the skull on his facemask was intimidating on its own—added with the enhanced volume, it was terrifying.

  One man edged away with his back to the wall, his face white. “No, not like this,” he mumbled.

  “I need someone to cover those civilians,” Yamaguchi said. “Do your job there and let me do mine here.”

  The mustached man looked around at scared faces and nodded. “Very well.”

  “What’s your name?” Yamaguchi asked.

  “Nasri.” He puffed out his chest.

  “Hmm. You need a nickname. I’ll call you bushy-boy. Now go!” Yamaguchi slapped him on the shoulder. The blow nearly toppled the man.

  The group looked at each other and back to the armored man with a skull facemask. Grins broke out. Nasri bellowed out a laugh showing teeth white against the black hairs of his mustache.

  Yamaguchi watched the group shuffle away with weapons at ready like toy soldiers. He hoped they didn’t get themselves killed.

  The time passed and Yamaguchi strained to stretch inside the suit. The movement was almost right, he could almost get in a good stretch, but not quite. The adrenaline was long past. Now the waiting came.

  His greatest fear was that the Sa’Ami would sit and wait. He could only keep his men in the armor for so long. Eventually they’d have to rotate out of the suits. He pictured a siege of old with arrows coming over a stone wall.

  Bells rang in slightly off keys. The tone echoed across the city. He scanned and magnified his vision. The shadow of a bell moved inside the Anabaptist church. He listened to each stroke and offered up a silent prayer.

  The comms were silent and he wondered if he was the only one. He never prayed except before action. That moment when you could reflect. Everything seemed brighter, crisper, tighter.

  Above the sky was a brilliant blue with a low layer of clouds sliding in. He craned his neck and stared up. The cedars surrounded the city in pillars of green. Each needle seemed to stand on its own. He regarded the beauty and finished his prayer.

  A single reflection in the sky caught his eye. It was gone as soon as he looked. He could sense that this was it.

  A single ping sounded in his ears. He snapped his eyes to the display. A red icon blinked on the edge of the city. Ping. A second icon lit up. Ping. Ping. Ping. The red icons appeared everywhere.

  “Here we go!” Yamaguchi moved himself at an oblique angle towards the tightest cluster. “Heading your way, Bale. Spread ‘em out.” Yamaguchi cued up a stream from one of the drones and watched as he moved into position.

  A drop pod plunged down. A single heavy grav drive engaged with a deep bass boom. The air pushed from beneath and landed in a puddle of dimpled mud. The pod was large enough to hold a single man. The exterior was a latticework of crystal and alloy.

  A pair of striders folded away from the outside of the pod and crept around a building. A man in sandy brown power armor emerged from the capsule and unslung his weapon.

  The drone wobbled and shook. The camera diverted away to a shot of the cedars.

  Yamaguchi switched to a random feed and watched similar scenes elsewhere. The same continued around the city. “You’ve got one suit of armor for two striders. If anyone sees heavies, let me know.”

  Gunfire and explosions echoed nearby. He sprinted forward in the shadow of an alloy sheathed building. His display was alive with red icons on the ground and far above. The Sa’Ami aerials were engaging his drones.

  A stri
der, dull brown with mud-stained feet dropped down from the building. Mud splattered around it in a cascade of yellow. It sprang forward.

  Yamaguchi raised his weapon as quickly as he could and fired a stream of armor-piercing nanite propelled rounds. The damn thing caught him off guard. His heart rate pinged into the redzone.

  The rounds stitched into the yellow mud and rose higher, catching the strider. They hit first on one leg in a shower of orange sparks. The next rounds shattered the chest armor and sent the creature flying into the center of the road.

  He pulled the weapon tight and loosed another cluster.

  The strider tried to roll and claw the mud. The stubby railgun had been blown aside and out of reach. It shuddered and grew still.

  The edge of the roof shook above his head. A booming sound echoed from his right. He snapped his head to the side and saw a hunter-killer drone with a smoking large bore cannon.

  The drone slid back into the shadows and disappeared as quickly as it came.

  A mechanical leg tumbled from the sky.

  Two striders down.

  The ground shook behind him and he knew what it was. He tried to spin as quickly as he could but the armor just seemed a touch sluggish. A fierce heat burned against his shoulder. Alarms blared as he saw the power armor behind him.

  The Sa’Ami suit was almost like the strider but wider and not as graceful. The dull brown armor was speckled with yellow clay. In one arm was a stubby nosed assault cannon, in the other a retracted lance that crackled with energy.

  Yamaguchi leaped to the side. The assault cannon burped out a loud sound that tore the edge of his armor. He snapped his weapon up and fired as he ran.

  The rapid shot peppered the alloy wall above the Sa’Ami, showering it in glowing sparks.

  He slowed his movement for just a second and took closer aim. The servos and nanite muscles tuned just a bit better. The next cluster of shots slammed the Sa’Ami against the wall.

  Armor splintered and buckled. The Sa’Ami soldier pitched forward. The armor panel glowed intensely as nanites flowed in to repair the wound.

  It responded by lashing out with the lance and firing the cannon wildly.