Merkiaari Wars Series: Books 1-3

by Mark E. Cooper

  Whatever the reason, and with the aid of the harmonies and her hunting skills to avoid trouble, she arrived upon the shores of the lake safely by late afternoon.

  “What took you so long,” Kate said, grinning as she approached. She was holding a stick with something edible thrust onto it. A fish. She took a bite. “I thought we might have to send out a rescue party.”

  Shima blinked in consternation. Beyond Kate’s shoulder she could see the shuttle floating upon the lake, and not far down the shore, tents had been set up. There were people there, more than there should be.

  “What?” Shima said feeling very confused.

  “We expected you last night,” Kate said, stepping closer and offering the stick. “It’s good, try some.”

  Shima mechanically took a piece of fish off the stick with her claws and popped it into her mouth. Flavour exploded upon her tongue, and her eyes widened. Kate nodded and offered the entire stick to take. Shima took it and ate more of the silvery blue fish. It tasted wonderful. It had been prepared with herbs and butter it tasted like, and cooked to perfection. She finished it and licked her chops ready for more.

  “What’s happening, Kate?”

  Kate led her back toward the others. “It was Gina’s idea. Now your eyes are fixed, you’ll probably be going home soon. She wanted to thank you for all you did for us during the war by helping to make some good memories. Did it work?”

  Shima remembered the tuskers and then her fight with the not-Shan thing she hadn’t named. “Yes, it’s been a good hunt so far.”

  “Great!” Kate said. “Bet you didn’t know Stone is a fiend for fishing, did you?”

  “No.”

  “Neither did I!”

  Shima laughed. “Who is your cook? The fish tasted fantastic.”

  “Chailen. She’s been cooking all day for your vacation feast. We have the whole week to play and have fun, more if you want. The General didn’t specify when he wanted us back and we’re only a few hours away by shuttle anyway if he calls.”

  They reached the tents and Shima learned the depth of the deception. Chailen and Sharn came up and hugged her laughing about how Shima just happened to meet Kate’s shuttle arriving at Petruso airstrip. Gina laughed at her outraged glare. Cragg offered another fish on a stick, and she took it greedily. He was already eating one. Varya raised a hand in greeting. Stone nodded to her from where he crouched before the fire taking care of Chailen’s pots where they bubbled and steamed with wonderful smells of cooking.

  There was one person missing. “Where’s Kazim?” Shima said, trying not to sound concerned.

  Chailen and Sharn stepped apart and pointed. Shima looked beyond the camp to find a lonely figure standing on the edge of the water, looking her way. He had his camera in one hand, but not pointed.

  Shima handed her empty stick to Chailen wordlessly and went to join him.

  * * *

  13 ~ Operation Oracle

  Tech Centre. Operation Annihilate simulation

  Gina awoke still in her acceleration couch, but the couch wasn’t where she had left it. She was face down and the surface she lay upon was getting hot. She squirmed and found the harness release. The seat felt like it weighed a ton; she could hardly move under its weight. That worried her because there was fire, and a viper shouldn’t sweat the weight of a single metal seat, and there was fire... and you know, fire!

  She twisted and fumbled the harness loose and was finally able to drag herself from under the seat. When she staggered erect, she realised why the weight had been so crushing. The dropship was trashed and the fuselage was crumpled. Her seat had been on the starboard side, but although it was still securely bolted to the bulkhead that the designers had intended, it was now on the port side of the ship.

  Gina shook her head and kicked her way free of debris coughing and choking on the smoke starting to fill the ship. She grabbed her rifle from the deck where it had ended wedged under the seat after the crash. The screams and cries of the wounded and dying pulled her in multiple directions. She needed to give aid, but first she needed to find a way out.

  Blood trickled into her eyes and she irritably wiped it away. The fires were getting worse and with it the screaming. She spun in place and staggered. Her leg wasn’t working right, and for the first time she took notice of her own diagnostics.

  >_ Diagnostics: Left leg impaired, knee joint 25%. Lung capacity 87%.

  >_ IMS: Repairs in progress.

  >_ Diagnostics: Unit fit for duty.

  The knee blazed with pain despite her IMS flooding the area with pain blockers. It was three times the size it should be and her uniform was stretched tight over it. Every time she moved, her thigh and shin armour caught and gouged it sickeningly. Cold sweat popped out on her forehead and she grunted as she forced her way forward.

  There were many bodies scattered, impaled, and crushed within the ship. Most were sleeping the little death, their beacons flashing and reporting their readiness for pickup, but not all. Too many were true dead. Gina left them alone and continued forward to the other troop hold. The screams were coming from there.

  The hatch was jammed part way open, and smoke boiled through the gap. Gina wrenched at the obstinate hatch and it groaned open another few inches, but then stopped. She put her shoulder to it and heaved. No movement. She wedged herself further into the gap and used her body like a hydraulic jack. Her knee was screaming, but she forced it to bend until her feet were positioned against the hull. Then she slowly straightened her legs.

  >_ Diagnostics: critical damage warning... left knee 23%... 21%... 17%...

  The pain, the pain, the pain! Gina screamed at the agony, but the screams of her companions were worse than any torture. The warning kept flashing on her internal display, counting down to complete failure of her knee. If it did fail, the joint would need complete replacement in sickbay. Anything else would take time, but could be repaired by IMS in the field with her own resources. She kept pushing, but the pain...

  Computer: Melee mode

  The world slowed and the pain went away. Ahh... the relief was heaven. Gina knew it was all illusion. Melee mode suppressed pain responses, so she could do things that would otherwise make her pass out or quit. She wouldn’t quit, and the damage continued to pile up. She eased off on the pressure, and then kicked hard with both legs. The hatch juddered open a little more.

  >_ Diagnostics: critical damage warning... left knee 14%

  She kicked again.

  >_ Diagnostics: critical damage warning... left knee 11%

  The hatch slammed open and she fell into the troop hold. The screams were less, the flashing beacons had multiplied on her sensors. Gina rolled around clutching her knee. The pain was leaking through the block. That shouldn’t happen, but it was happening, and she rolled around clutching her pain. The sharp agony slowly dulled to a throbbing heat and she turned to discover the horror.

  Her comrades were burning where they sat trapped unable to escape. A fuel line must have ruptured and a jet of fire was playing directly on to a section of the ship where vipers were still mustered in their couches. They were... Gina gulped, trying to force the images out of her head, but vipers could not forget. The flames had been held back by viper armour and nano-processed uniforms, for a while anyway, but they had failed eventually and the flesh beneath had been burned away.

  She saw men and women with no faces. Their metallic bones burned clean and horrifyingly shiny and visible. Surely they would die, their brains cooked, but they were still moving! Gina’s guts heaved. Why weren’t they in hibernation or dead? Everywhere she looked she saw horror—arms that had no flesh, but still moved trying to get free, faceless people screaming, and bodies burned down to the bone with things moving inside as they struggled struggled struggled! Viper biomech muscles were proving their resilience and resistance to fire in a horrifying manner. Bodies twitching and wrenching at debris while completely engulfed in fire, pinned by the crumpled ship that had failed to protect its ca
rgo. The horror was everywhere she looked.

  Gina was still in melee mode and boosted to the max. She forced herself up and into that hell. She had to shut off the fuel. She even knew how to do it, though she’d never had to for real. Wolfcub class dropships had an engineering section just aft of the cockpit. She could see it, just beyond the flames.

  Gina found a helmet on the deck and pulled it on over her own burns. She had awoken with them, and knew they were the result of a previous battle and not caused here. She didn’t know where her own helmet was and didn’t care. It would keep the heat out of her eyes for a while. Without hesitation, she forced herself to climb over the wreckage and into the fire. The temperature soared around her, and warnings proliferated upon her display. Smoke and pollutants caused by burning synthetics scoured her throat and burned already damaged lungs. The pain in her knee was forgotten as her hands burned. She had no gloves and was having to pull herself forward grasping hot metal.

  Finally, she was over the hurdle and staggering forward. She glanced at her friends in their couches, but all in this section were in hibernation. A lot of internal injuries she guessed, because outwardly they didn’t look too bad. Was she the only one to remain conscious on the entire ship? She looked into the cockpit but only briefly. Both pilots were true dead. They had to be. They’d been cut in half. Nothing could survive that. She wanted to scream when she saw the co-pilot move a little. The top half anyway.

  She found the emergency fuel shut off and flipped the switch. Darkness filled the ship’s interior as the flames died. The screaming turned to whimpers and groans, but one by one they fell silent and more beacons started flashing.

  “Oh Jesus...” she hissed throwing the helmet down and leaning to take the weight off her knee.. “Oh Jesus....” she mumbled and wiped blood out of her eyes. And tears. “Oh Jesus...”

  She was shaking and feeling shocky. She turned, feeling the world drift around in slow motion. That was when she knew what was wrong. Still in melee mode and boosted to the max, her IMS was as close to offline as it came short of true death. It didn’t have the resources to fix her up, and she could tell she was in a bad way. She wasn’t getting enough air and felt light headed.

  Computer: combat mode

  The world sped back up and Gina screamed in agony. Her knee buckled and she fell against the engineering panel. Oh God it hurt! Her internal display was suddenly flooded with data. Flashing multicoloured icons and numbers competed for attention, and despite her coughing and need to get out, she had to deal with some of it.

  Lung capacity 43%, left knee 11%, miscellaneous burns and contusions. Combat effectiveness 61%. Maintenance mode recommended.

  Enter maintenance mode [Y]es/[N]o?

  >_ N

  “Dumb machine,” Gina grumped.

  This was no time to sleep. Now she had the time to think, she knew why the others had burned without entering hibernation. Their systems were intelligent enough to assess risks—that was part of what made vipers so dangerous in combat. Their processors had known letting them sleep in the fire would kill them, so it hadn’t allowed it. Simple as that. So stupid, but totally logical. Those vipers would have burned to death and remained aware the entire time because the viper design team programmed them to survive at any cost. Pain? Sanity? Everything sacrificed for survival.

  Gina shuddered and went into a coughing fit.

  She finished with internal business and turned toward the cockpit. She struggled inside, but turned back almost immediately. She’d had a vague idea to use the pilot’s emergency hatch to get out, but the shuttle had gone down hard. The hatch was buckled and dirt was leaking inside through it. No doubt the front of the ship was buried.

  She struggled back out, letting her leg drag and not bending her knee to give IMS the best opportunity she could to make repairs. God damn but it hurt. Felt like someone was poking a red-hot poker in there. She coughed again, and panted trying to get more air. It did no good.

  As she made her way through the hold, she checked the other vipers and was cheered by what she found. Most in the forward section were alive and in hibernation. When she reached the section of the troop hold where the fire had been, she steeled herself against what she would see. The burns were so hideously bad; she couldn’t tell who was who and was glad of it. She was shocked to find even the worst victims were still alive. Whether they would wake up sane, she didn’t know. She would never get this horror out of her head.

  Back where she started in the hold she’d been riding in, Gina realised that she was still trapped. The only way out was the main ramp and it was not working. It looked undamaged, but there was no power to operate it.

  She patted herself down and found a few grenades left on the ragged remains of her webbing. She was wearing more than one set, tied roughly to her armour like bandoleers. She pulled them off and transferred useful items to her belt and webbing before discarding the useless remnants. There wasn’t much she could use. She needed more.

  Gina searched the bodies of her comrades pilfering power cells and grenades. She soon had a respectable pile. Back at the ramp, she pulled the manual unlocking levers all the way down, and then jammed the power cells and grenades tightly around the edges of the ramp where it sealed to the hull. She didn’t have enough explosive to dent the armour of a Wolfcub, but with the locks withdrawn, she hoped a big enough bang on the inside would overcome the inertia of the heavy ramp and blow it open. It depended a lot on how much pressure was left in the hydraulics. Those rams were designed to keep the ramp shut against atmospheric pressure while the ship travelled in vacuum, but the ship was pretty much trashed. With luck that meant the hydraulic system was totalled as well.

  Gina backed up and took cover. She hefted her rifle and selected full auto and full power. She took careful aim and fired at the clusters she had placed around the edges of the ramp. The explosions weren’t close to simultaneous, but maybe that helped a little, as it seemed to start a rocking motion that finally led to the ramp falling outward. It crashed down and a refreshing breeze entered the troop hold clearing the smoke a little.

  Gina took a deep breath, but her lungs were still shot and she started coughing. She headed for the open air, squinting against the light and dragging her bum leg behind her looking for hostiles on her sensors. The ship had been shot down by Merkiaari interceptors. There could be Merki troopers on the way to check the downed ship and eliminate survivors.

  She moved away from the smashed ship. She was amazed at its toughness. The crash had been high speed and the impact massive. How so many had survived to enter hibernation was a miracle. A target blinked into existence on her sensors and she turned toward it...

  Manual override protocols activated.

  Current run saved: Fuentez San Luis #002.

  Simulation terminated.

  Gina opened her eyes as the simulator couch settled upon the floor. What the hell? She was just getting started! She looked around, but the others were still under. She wondered if they had gotten out of the dropship yet, and how they had done it. She would have to ask Eric how he’d managed. The simulation was based upon his very real life experience of San Luis back during the Merkiaari War.

  “Talk of the devil,” she muttered as Captain Penleigh approached. “I guess I have you to thank for messing up my run?”

  “You were doing a good job of that all by yourself, Gina. You do realise the mission was not to shut off fuel lines etcetera etcetera, but to get out and back into the war? Operation Annihilate was the endgame of the San Luis campaign. Your job was to reach the assembly point and participate.”

  Gina grimaced. “I know that, I would have gotten there.”

  “Maybe,” Eric said, “but not quickly, and not efficiently.”

  “Tell me you left them screaming in there, and then I’ll consider efficiency.”

  Eric stared into the shadows of the simulator room bleakly, remembering a younger and more naive self. His jaw muscles bunched and he glanced down at Gin
a. His smile was crooked, and Gina shivered. She didn’t think his smile meant he was amused this time around.

  “I pulled you out because the General has a mission for us. He asked for you in particular. Any idea why?”

  Changing the subject on her didn’t mean he had let them die screaming. She really really hoped it didn’t, because she didn’t want to know that about him. She liked him, and she was comfortable with him as her immediate superior. She wanted to keep it that way.

  “No idea. What mission?”

  Eric shrugged and helped unhook her from the simulator’s sensors.

  Gina wondered what it was all about as she dressed, but she couldn’t imagine. The General had so many fires to tend; she could be sent literally anywhere. Well maybe not that. It was very unlikely she would be sent to a core world or back to the Shan worlds. Not impossible mind you, just unlikely.

  “What about my men?” she said, gesturing at the packed simulators. Her entire platoon was here.

  Eric shrugged. “They have hours to go yet. I’ve asked for someone to take over monitoring for me.”

  Gina nodded. That was prudent; if anyone was “killed” in the simulation before reaching the goal, they would wake early and need help.

  Eric ushered Gina along and out of the simulator room. On their way through the tech centre’s barren corridors, they met Kate hurrying toward them. She waved a sloppy salute in their direction that made Gina smile and Eric scowl, but she didn’t stop.