Starkindler (MechaVerse Series Book 1)

by Jeremy Cunkle

  All combat temporarily ceased as the Marines stared uncomprehendingly at the scene in front them. They watched in enraptured fascination as Starkindler pivoted two hundred and seventy degrees, the giant Mech armor swinging nearly the entire way around the shield in the blink of an eye, using the solid point of reference as a stationary fulcrum before the shield ripped out of the ground. Using the momentum, Aurora deployed the wings while reducing the afterburners, performing a powered landing as they skimmed across the broken terrain back towards the Marines.

  Buffeted underneath the explosive onslaught of the g-forces, Mikkhael was instantly knocked unconscious. Right before he blacked out, just as Starkindler was beginning to pivot around the emplaced shield, Mikkhael hit a custom command that released the energy shields from being tied in place around Starkindler. The command had been intended for a time when the energy shields would be critically overloaded by incoming fire, not unlike what had just occurred, and if they were released in time, they would separate far enough from Starkindler that when they catastrophically failed and imploded, they would not deal the other defensive layers critical damage. Instead, they would dissipate away from the Mech armor absorbing the full impact of any incoming fire, being consumed in the process.

  During the maneuver, Aurora realized what he intended and anticipated his needs. She completed the command for him as Starkindler finished coming about in its organ melting 360 degree turn. She re-engaged the shields along the back that were still in place that a split second earlier had been drifting away, re-attaching them to Starkindler now traveling in the opposite direction, the effect of which was astonishing beyond any of their wildest hopes. The rear shields had been at over 90% capacity as Mikkhael fought face-first against all of his opponents. The insane maneuver replaced the depleted frontal energy shields with the charged energy shields from the back, allowing the depleted energy shields in back to begin recharging, meaning that if he could potentially repeat the process, he could indefinitely prolong his ability to fight.

  * * * * *

  An analyst assigned to monitor and provide intel on Starkindler was the first to realize what happened, and the consequential implications for the rest of the battle. Without waiting for permission to speak, she shouted her warning, “Sir! General Akari, Sir! It just swapped its shields somehow! The terrorist! He will turn and finish the fight; he doesn’t have a reason to run anymore!”

  “What do you mean, he just swapped his shields?” General Akari asked, fear twisting his gut in a vice.

  “That was the purpose of that crazy maneuver, the data doesn’t make sense, I don’t understand what he did, but he figured out a way to replace his depleted frontal energy shields with the charged back shields. He’s about to attack again with fully charged frontal shields! As long as he’s able to protect his back, he just figured out a way to maintain full shields no matter what we throw at him, swapping them out when needed. Based off previous battles, the terrorist won’t flee as long as he has a chance to win! The rest of the local Marine elements are in extreme danger!” The panicking analyst pleaded for General Akari to heed her warning.

  He turned to a communication technician, not doubting the veracity of the analyst’s conclusions for a second, following through on the contract of trust that exists amongst true professionals. “Orders are as follows. All remaining forces from the Marine 7th Armored Combat battalion are to retreat and regroup at point D2. They will wait until the reinforcements from the 9th Special Forces Heavy Assault battalion have located and engaged Starkindler. They will then provide backup for the 9th and finish the job. The 4th and 5th mechanized battalions are to send all remaining forces to the terrorists’ present location with all haste. Have the remaining artillery and missile units switch targets to the MARS units being held as bait. Notify them all it is almost time to avenge our fallen.”

  * * * * *

  Awake and alert once again, Mikkhael reacted as clouds of small airborne drones swarmed them; confused by the fact that the Marine Steyr’s and other support forces were retreating out of range of his guns, the ones that responded too slowly were eliminated with surgical precision now that he had nothing to fear from directly engaging them. The drones proved to be a temporary nuisance; Aurora easily destroyed them with the point defense cannons and sub-munitions.

  She rattled off a status report he had not asked for, already aware of the fact they could not continue without a miracle. “Mikkhael, the Marines are in full retreat for now, but I would guess they will shortly re-group with incoming reinforcements and then continue their attacks. I used the last two rockets to eliminate the signals jamming unit in the center of the camp; I temporarily have full control again of my network. The overall situation is very, very bad. PDF Central Command is bringing in massive amounts of reinforcements that we have no hope of being able to stand against. I estimate we have less than fifteen minutes to recover before they have re-grouped. Currently, we are surrounded, with the majority of remaining PDF heavily entrenched between us and the stranded MARS units. The reactor almost overheated during the last engagement and will not cool down in time before the next battle. To put it mildly, the majority of munitions are depleted and we will need to rely on our limited energy weapons from here on out. Energy shield systems and external layers of defense have sustained moderate damage. Max shield charge capability has been reduced to 59%, frontal recharge times have been increased by 180%.”

  Drifting somewhere beyond physical and mental exhaustion where survival turns into a subconscious effort, Mikkhael looked over his displays as she continued prattling. A dedicated damage monitor displayed a depiction of Starkindler broken down by segments, with normal status displayed as light greys. Nowhere on the display did Starkindler register as grey, a minimum of yellow flashed across most areas, with large portions of orange and red in others. Absently, with a sense of disembodiment performing routine checklists for reasons he no longer remembered why, he touched each segment depicted in turn, visually scanning the description of the damage. Most of the yellow segments were simply overly stressed from repeated high-speed maneuvers. The orange segments showed light to moderate damage combined with red indicators showing severely stressed joints calling for immediate repairs.

  Worst of all though was the reactor, pulsing an angry red as it registered dangerously high temperatures that threatened to melt-down if circumstances were not addressed; a large volume of the irreplaceable super coolant had evaporated by running it too hard, the reserves having already been injected long ago. Starkindler’s weapons were nearly all black, displaying their inability to be used; barrels warped or out of ammunition.

  “Aurora, it’s time to activate the Phoenix Core. Launch immediately.” Mikkhael deadpanned, simply existing, entirely devoid of emotion.

  He ordered her to reroute all of the reactor output to the engines. The shields automatically deactivated while the rail guns and other weapons lost their charges, a dangerous choice with so many enemies nearby but a necessary one. Only emergency maintenance, life support, and the thrusters were allowed to function, all other power surged with violent promise into the engines, lifting the giant Mech armor with outstretched wings straight into the air for all to see. He opened the armored fins of the reactor containment wall to perform an emergency heat dump. The cold air rippled explosively around the steadily climbing Starkindler as it reacted fiercely in the presence of the super-heated reactor. The cores temperature slowly began to drop enough, once again bringing it into safe levels, all while the giant Mech continued to gain altitude, the air rippling from the heat waves making it look as if a cloud of fire lifted them up in the air.

  With a sense of passively detached amusement, he watched as the IFR signature lit up, glowing orange and then red, and then pure white on the dedicated display as Starkindler dumped as much heat as rapidly as possible.

  “Phoenix Core has launched, aligning now, prepare for dock.” Aurora’s holograph re-appeared, showing her with an absent expr
ession, lost in her processes, straining to reassert her dominance on innumerable fronts, processing stacks performing at their maximum capacity.

  The Phoenix Core had been ejected from the shuttle Mikkhael traveled to Mars in shortly after passing through the second jump gate, remaining hidden in the debris of the lower atmosphere until a moment arose as desperate as the one they now faced, a consumable insurance policy against unmitigated disaster. With surprise on their side, the core fell through the thin atmosphere without incident, rapidly descending towards Starkindler. Aurora lined both machines up in midair, synchronizing the cores descent with Starkindler’s rise until they collided with perfect mechanical precision, after which the giant Mech armor slowly sank back to the surface where it settled heavily under the enormous weight of the bulky platform that now wrapped itself protectively around the giant Mech armor. Automatic processes activated, integrally linking Starkindler to the Phoenix system, immediately getting to work.

  Designed as an in-field resupply module, the Phoenix platform held much more potent resupply capabilities than simply performing a refueling mission. Nearly the size of Starkindler standing at full height, the platform served as an entirely automated repair and refit maintenance bay able to be called upon in any remote region of Mars, which happened to be the very places where Mikkhael did all his fighting. Once docked, the platform linked to all of Starkindler’s critical systems, reloading munitions, rockets, and missiles while providing supplemental electric charges for the energy weapons and shields, allowing the reactor to idle and cool further. Life support systems were refreshed as fresh oxygen rushed into the cockpit and the internal storage tanks. The Phoenix platform automatically replaced both of the expended drones, all while fitting a new physical shield into place on the left arm.

  Insulated hoses connecting the two machines quickly flushed the reactor with fresh super-coolant, cycling the coolant back and forth between the Phoenix, the reactor, and the reserve bay, rapidly dropping the reactors core temperature in the safest way possible. Additional hoses replaced various vital mechanical fluids, while new coatings of heat absorbing foam that had been burnt up were sprayed on, hardening instantly. Aurora manipulated several robotic arms to inject liquefied graphene into any areas underneath the foam that had been damaged; the liquid graphene would take a while to harden and would not be nearly as strong as the composite armor plates once it did so, but made do for emergency field repairs.

  Mikkhael watched as the damage display readout of Starkindler morphed, warnings and critical alerts all but disappearing as the gun barrels of his weapons were quickly filed out, forcefully bent back into their original shapes. All but one orange readout was downgraded to yellow. Starkindler’s weapons, shields, drones, and reactor now appeared as dull grey. The display showing Starkindler’s IFR signature changed from a blinding white to pitch black, showing their return to an undetectable status as the reactor temperature dropped by several thousand degrees Fahrenheit. Finished and consumed, the Phoenix platform detached from Starkindler’s back, falling to land heavily in the dust where it would lie permanently forgotten. Mikkhael instinctively smashed Starkindler’s fists together in the way a boxer eager to begin the fight will, displaying his readiness for the next battle, the giant Mech armor moving with a refreshed vigor that now translated to Mikkhael himself as she fed him a steady drip of cognitive stimulants.

  Using the absence of the signals jamming units, she erected new firewalls as well as retaking control of and patching her old ones. Her battle in the infinite plane where the cyber sphere existed was just now beginning. Much of her vast network had been compromised in her absence. She waged her own war on millions of fronts all simultaneously. This was not businesses anymore, the PDF had made everything personal, and they were about to pay.

  As stray rays of sunlight burst forward over the distant horizon signaling the dawn of the second day since leaving Mount Olympus, the trio stood tall, preparations complete.

  They were ready for what came next.

  Chapter 17 – StormCrow

  Anger is brief insanity – Horatio

  Exhaustion etched deep lines in General Akari’s face that his fresh uniform did nothing to belie as he scanned the equally weary faces of the technicians within the Command and Control Center one last time, making eye contact with each of them in turn. He absently scratched at the stubble on his face. That was just one of many signs coupled with the empty disposable cups of coffee cluttering every one of the technicians’ workplaces, testifying to just how long they had been manning their stations. Slumping wearily, grumpy and irritable, the assembled technicians matched his bone weary exhaustion.

  So far, the terrorist had performed one miracle after another, defying all the odds as he made it farther than any of the Intelligence Division simulations forecast. But now, the odds were finally going to stack up against him. After confirming that everyone was prepared for one last push, General Akari scanned the banks of data displaying troop locations, combat status, and readiness availability for any vulnerability or needed last minute changes. Seeing none, he could not help but glance one last time at the solitary red dot nonchalantly sitting dead center of the vast array of forces arrayed against it. The little blip on his screen surrounded by an ocean of blue that had so far defied their repeated attempts to destroy it and the threat it represented that grew by the hour.

  Set in a loop on one of the side monitors, he watched for the hundredth time in the same stunned amazement as the terrorist Mech armor rose into the air where it synced with what the analysts determined to be a resupply platform unlike anything they had ever seen before. The forces on scene were depleted, morale deplorably low from being unable to defend themselves. Instead of seizing the moment of advantage over the undefended terrorist, they instead used the time to regroup, seeking safety and comfort in numbers.

  Then, the most shocking thing occurred, something so beyond expected that he had no idea how to compute what he was seeing. Once resupplied, instead of taking advantage of the PDF temporarily pulling back, the terrorist just sat where he was and waited. Despite the random attacks, a discernable pattern emerged during the last fifty-three hours showing the pilot never veering from his journey's end. General Akari and the rest of the assembled forces knew all along where the terrorist was headed, and now that he was so close, just within reach of his objective he stood still, inviting destruction upon himself in sight of his goal.

  Interrupting his reverie, the cuff of his sleeve began bleating urgent warnings about his blood pressure at it climbed into dangerously high territory, to the point he muted the alarms, pointedly ignoring the self-monitor. He forcefully composed himself in front of his underlings, seething on the inside at being forced to resort to something as pathetically dishonorable as tricking a squad of MARS units and then holding them hostage in order to draw out a weakened foe. All while setting up a combat force of nearly three divisions, or a full sized Army Corp, to destroy a single terrorist was pure insanity, and yet that was exactly what was happening. The capabilities and intelligence of that one pilot singlehandedly made him and his unique Mech armor the utmost danger to the existence of the Mars Industries government since its founding, constantly astounding him with its resilience in the face of impossible odds.

  Forced to look inwards during those last quiet moments, he considered himself loyal and honorable, and even if he disagreed with many aspects of the Mars Industries government, he was realistic enough to recognize the corruption inherent within any political system. The only change he could effect on the system was that which he created, and the one thing impeding his ability to move further up the chain of command in order to assume control of the armed forces and effect that change was a single pilot and his incredibly unique machine. One last time, General Akari silently cursed the terrorist that refused to die, forcing him to stoop to this level, amazed yet again at the sheer capability his enemy possessed.

  General Akari checked a sub monitor dedicated to
a smaller reserve force, one that he reluctantly deployed because of the political strings attached. An entire division’s worth of pieces were neatly arranged in concentric formations laid out on the main screen in front of him, waiting for his order to launch their attack against a single target. Against all odds of ever needing them, he had ordered set aside two companies of Special Forces HellCats as the last bastion of defense in between the terrorist and where the MARS units had been essentially entombed for all intents and purposes. If, by some improbable miracle, the terrorist lived through the next attack, he would find his match against the HellCats, the best pilots and Mech armor the PDF commanded.

  The General sighed. The main display focused on their target, standing stoically amidst one of Mars famously harsh storms beginning to brew, winds whipping dried blood-red dust in violently blowing swirls across the craggy plain. It was as if the terrorist was taunting them, begging for more. He could not understand what motivation the pilot had to perform such actions. At this point, it was hard for him to imagine the pilot as sane, or even human. He silently wondered if this was the pilots’ first mistake. The terrorist had already single-handedly destroyed over a hundred Mech armor and thousands of troops as well as supporting elements in its relentless march towards the hostage Mars units, surely hubris would be the chink in the terrorists’ armor that he could finally exploit. Still, General Akari hesitated. The sheer level of skill, thought, and capability that had been shown in each successive engagement gave him pause. The voice in the back of his head that haunts everyone about to make a life changing decision whispered last second doubts into his ears as he looked across at the faces waiting on him to give the order to attack.

  The time for introspection and self-doubt was over; it was time for action. This time they would overwhelm the terrorist, leaving nothing to chance. With the arrival of the reserves, everything was in order. “Orders as follows: all forces are to remain in formation as they engage the primary target taking extra care to provide support for one another. Under no circumstances can the terrorist be allowed to break through the lines. Target is to be considered extremely lethal and not to be underestimated. Watch for surprises. Remember the fallen. Commence operation!”