“Arm the nukes,” she verbally commanded.
The ship knew what she planned and objected. “Warning. Projected maneuver violates safety protocols.”
“Command override!”
“Accepted. Nuclear warheads armed.”
She programed the missiles to detonate in front of the pursuing craft. Holding her fire as late as she dared, she closed. She wasn’t going to give the bastards any chance to avoid her strike.
At the last possible second, she fired.
The missiles launched, to find their marks a moment later, blossoming into brilliant globes of fusion beauty. The Kitright fighters flew directly into the fireballs, disintegrating.
Susan pulled back into a steep climb, doing everything she could to avoid falling afoul of her own instruments of death. She very nearly succeeded.
A blast wave kissed the tail of her Avenger, and heat and radiation flooded the engine.
“Warning! System failure. Losing power.”
“Shit!”
She frantically worked the controls with her mind and fingers. Nothing could be done. Slowly but surely, the planet’s gravity wrapped its grip around the disabled ship and dragged it down.
“Mayday, mayday!” she announced on a broad channel. “This is Dark Knight One, I’m adrift and caught in the planet’s gravity well. SAR pickup requested.”
“Roger, Dark Knight One,” CAC responded. “We’ve got you on our screen and tracking. Can you maneuver into a safe entry angle?”
“That’s a positive, CAC. Maneuvering thrusters are operational.”
“Goddamn it!” West cut in on the squadron channel. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“Oh...I don’t know, West. Maybe I was trying to save your sorry ass.”
“Much appreciated, Ross, but you damn near got yourself killed,” he replied in a soft tone. Concern impregnated his voice. “I’d never forgive you if you did that.”
She laughed. “Plenty of opportunity left for me to finish the job on the way down, West. Keep a beer cold for me on the Fist till I get back, will you?”
“Sure thing,” his voice grew somber. “Just make it back here, will you?”
“Why’s that? You gonna miss me or something?” She smirked.
“Hell, no, Ross, you know better.” He tried to match her veneer of confidence. “But if you die because you saved me, I’ll have a hard time sleeping for a while, and you know how I am about my sleep.”
“Roger that, West. I’ll do my best to live so you can get your beauty sleep.”
“Thanks. Now stop talking and start flying.”
Susan righted her Avenger for atmospheric entry. A few degrees off the plotted course in any direction would probably end with her as a really pretty fireball. The fighter slammed into the atmosphere’s outer layer, skipping across it like a flat rock on still water before sinking in to begin the descent.
The ship’s nose glowed white hot and the com-link cut out from interference. Strong crosswinds beat against the hull, knocking her around inside. She cut through the soup, holding course.
The Avenger slipped under the worst of it. Calm formed around the vessel as it lazily glided toward the surface. At a safe altitude, she would eject to avoid a risky crash landing. Till then, she tried to appreciate the powerless flight.
Again the universe intervened to ensure no part of her day would go easily.
“CAC to Dark Knight One, be advised. We’ve plotted your trajectory and you’re going to land smack-dab in the middle of the valley below.”
She shook her head from shock. “You mean the valley crawling with hostiles?”
“That’s the one. Be advised the LZ is too hot for SAR team.”
“What the hell, command! What do you expect me to do? Just walk out of the valley?”
“We’re working on it, Lieutenant. Hold tight and evade capture.”
“Thanks for the tip, command.” Helpful bastards can go to hell, she thought.
***
Trent followed the firefight with cold fingers clutching at his heart. When Susan’s mayday bled through the jumble of other traffic, he leapt out of his chair at the command post on a captured hill. When the CAC informed Susan of her shitty situation, he paced frantically back and forth. His heavy, rapid steps quickly wore away a strip of land, exposing the brown dirt beneath the blue grass.
“CAC,” he desperately called out. “Give me exact coordinates of Dark Knight One’s touchdown point. I’ll dispatch ground forces to cover her.”
“Negative, General, we can’t do that.”
“What the hell do you mean, you can’t do that?” His last real connection to Anna was gliding to her death and he sure as hell wasn’t going to sit by and let it just happen.
“Sorry, sir,” the tone of the CAC officer hinted she understood his emotional reaction. “We can’t accurately plot exactly where she will land. The mountain ranges create awkward wind patterns that make it difficult to predict where her chute will fall.”
“Goddam it!” the insult was meant for the universe. “Send me your best guess when you have one,” he closed the channel in a huff.
“Trent,” Amanda said. She was the only one who dared approach him now. Everyone else at the command post was too scared to move or even breathe too loud, let alone talk. “We’ll get her back. She’ll be okay.”
The kind words failed to penetrate. He returned to pacing with heavy steps, kicking up loose dirt.
***
Trent hadn’t been the only one following the dogfight. Hido monitored the situation from the 12th Order’s HQ, several kilometers to the northeast from his friend. Glancing up into the sky, his sharp eyes spotted the craft hurtling in his general direction. It was little more than a speck. He opened a channel to the Bearcat version of CAC.
“High Commander Kenti to Battlespace Control.”
“BC acknowledges. Go ahead, High Commander.”
“Can you give me an accurate trajectory for the damaged human fighter?”
“Sir, the human CAC officer is correct. The valley’s unpredictable wind currents give any projection a wide margin of error.”
“I’ll accept a wide margin. Just send me your best estimate.”
A longer silence filled the channel.
“What is your name and rank?” Hido asked.
“Ship Subleader Jydock,” the BC officer replied nervously.
“Subleader,” he calmly said. “I will not hold you responsible for the precision of the information you provide me. I understand I’m requesting data outside your capacity to accurately provide. Simply give me the best possible estimate of where the human pilot will land.”
“Yes, High Commander. Transmitting the information now. I’ve been studying the valley’s weather patterns and believe I can give you a better estimate than the human command. It’s still a best guess.”
“Thank you, Subleader.”
The map points flashed on a thin visor that ran across his face. Bearcats found it uncomfortable to completely cover their face and only did so when the environment demanded it. A series of cybernetic implants in their lungs allowed a Bearcat warrior to breathe in most environments. Their range of survivable atmospheres even surpassed the Legionnaire’s with their nanotech.
Hido’s heart sank as he studied the map. Susan would likely come down between the two remaining Kitright cities. Any rescue attempt would be extremely perilous. Looking up again, he stared at the growing speck. Soon she would eject and float helplessly down. Then and there, he knew what he had to do.
A stern expression and purpose-filled steps carried Hido toward the nearest tank pilot. The warrior sprung to rigid attention upon seeing the High Commander approach.
“Low Commander,” Hido said. “I need your assistance. Can you help me?”
“Absolutely, High Commander. How may I be of assistance?”
“Show me how to operate this thing.” He pointed at the tank.
“Sir?” the low commander g
urgled. The look on his face would’ve made Hido laugh if he weren’t so damn serious about this.
***
Susan’s ship was dying. There wasn’t a thing she could do about it, either. The stress of the unpowered hot entry had severely weakened the structural integrity of the Avenger’s frame, which drastically limited her options. The ship couldn’t withstand the forces applied against it during the maneuver required to avoid the dangerous valley. The best she could do was to gently steer her craft so she wouldn’t eject directly over one of the cities.
A lot of thoughts circulated in her mind as she glided toward her doom. Her mother, her father, the fallen members of the Dark Knights, and even her great-great grandfather, whom she now would never get to know. She knew he would take her death hard, and that saddened her more than she would have expected.
The time to eject had arrived. A thought-command sent her rocketing upward at a terrific rate. The wind hit her like a beanbag flying at a hundred KPH, knocking the air from her lungs. Consciousness threatened to abandon her, but she held on, looking up to see her chute deploy. It jerked her body with a violent upward jolt. She stabilized herself in time to bear witness to the final moments of her beloved Avenger. It had carried her into and out of battle more than once. Now – just one more fallen friend.
Helpless, she floated to the surface, surrounded and all alone.
***
A Bearcat hover tank isn’t an easy piece of equipment to operate. Even with the assistance of the onboard VI, the pilot still had to manage an array of manual controls regulating speed, direction, targeting, etc. A neural interface would’ve dramatically cut the learning curve, but that technology had never set right with the Bearcats. They preferred a more hands-on approach. They had swallowed their pride to the extent of implanting their fighter pilots with the tech. The demands of modern fighter combat simply didn’t give them the luxury of such misgivings.
Despite a handicap of inexperience, Hido successfully advanced to the center of the projected area Susan would touchdown. Throwing caution to the winds, he had blindly charged deep into enemy territory.
When her actual destination became apparent, he responded by adding more speed. In his single-minded determination, he punched the throttle without surveying the terrain directly ahead, missing a steep drop off. The hover tank sailed off the minor cliff. With anti-gravity generators designed to only keep the undercarriage a meter off the ground, he quickly dropped like a stone. An automatic system kicked in, diverting power to the generators in time to avoid an all-out crash. Even so, the resulting counter-forces rattled him around like a maraca.
Undeterred, he pressed on.
***
Susan’s ejection seat landed with a hard thud despite the small thruster underneath. Most of the force was absorbed by a set of shock absorbers, but enough leaked past to force a breath out of her lungs. Slapping a palm against the harness button on her chest, she freed herself from the seat and sprang out to gather the stored survival gear.
A panel on the back of the seat opened automatically. Inside she found a wide-array of gear to survive in a multitude of environments, including a spare suit, nutrient pack, and most importantly, an MRG with ammo belt. Disregarding everything else for the moment, she grabbed the weapon and slammed a fresh clip in. The click as the magazine locked in place gave her a warm sense of security. Whatever came next, they would have to contend with a wall of supersonic bullets.
They aren’t getting me without a fight.
“Dark Knight One to CAC,” she coldly called out. She scanned the horizon for movement with the MRG trained downfield. “Advise on status of pick up.”
“Your position is still too hot for SAR,” the CAC officer replied.
“What the hell am I supposed to do, then?”
“Ground units are en route to your position. Can you meet them on foot?”
“Cover!” Valkyrie shouted both verbally and in her head.
Diving behind the seat, she hit the ground in time to avoid a pair of Kitright pink gel grenades. They exploded where she once stood, their deadly goo peppering the area all around her. Hugging the blue grass, she stuck her MRG around the seat to see two groups of enemy units, both small and large, converging on her position across open ground. Slight rolling slopes in the terrain would conceal and expose their attack from time to time.
“Negative! Enemy contact! I’m pinned down.”
“Understood. ETA till ground forces arrive is five minutes. Hold on.”
“Thanks for the heads up, CAC. I’ll be dead in four.”
Rising to a knee, she brought her weapon to bear. On full auto, she hosed down the world in front of her.
It won’t be that easy, you bastards!
***
The CAC officer only knew of the hurried forces General Maxwell organized and led to rescue the downed pilot. Despite their best efforts, they were five minutes out. That might as well have been a world away. However, they weren’t the closest source of aid.
Hido’s hover tank raced at top speed for the distressed ally, closing the distance rapidly. The sensors painted a grim picture. Two groups of enemy units had merged to form a half-moon shaped wall of advancing death. Susan’s stubborn fire was scoring hits. Each kill bought her time, but only a fraction of a second. Time was life and it was swiftly running out.
The tank dipped into a depression. Susan was atop the slope ahead. Hido chose to break his silence and announce himself on all allied channels. “This is High Commander Hido Kenti of the 14th Order. We are engaging the enemy! May honor come of our deeds.”
He was the sole surviving member of the 14th Order. According to Bearcat custom, the annihilated unit was not reinforced nor would he be given a new command until he’d redeemed himself and his Order. Today, he charged into a desperate battle as an Order of one, carrying the stained honor of his brothers with him.
His hand hammering the throttle, the tank catapulted off the slope. Crashing to the ground, he charged headlong into the fray. The main battle cannon sent round after round into the enemy formation while dual automatic rifles swept side to side. Like a demonic metallic beast, Hido became the incarnation of fury.
The hot steel and high explosive projectiles tore into the unprepared enemy. Clusters of enemy soldiers were shattered, turning them into flying golden panels and gobs of pink gel. Gaping holes opened in the line which wavered from shock and the initial ferocity of the attack.
Surprise is a precious commodity on the battlefield, but one that rarely lasts.
The Kitright recovered and returned fire toward the source of their torment. The hover tank broke off the chase to zigzag along a parallel course. He hurled reckless, poorly aimed shots at the horde.
The erratic fire confused the enemy. They surged forward, but piecemeal, not as a coordinated whole. Sporadic shots of invincible sonic beams plowed into the tank’s armor. Grenade detonations peppered the area. Bit by bit, the blows melted and chipped away at the protective plating.
Warning lights and alarms filled the cabin. Hido ignored them because he couldn’t do anything about them. As long as the tank moved and the cannon fired, he didn’t really care.
Feeling his time grow short, he steered the dying machine to within a short distance of Susan’s position. He escaped out the back with a rifle in hand and ran for shelter. The failing turret continued to fire automatically.
Susan provided him with as much covering fire as she could.
Sliding like a seasoned baseball player of old, he hugged a corner of the ejection seat. Much of his side was still exposed.
“Get out of here!” Hido roared. “I’ll cover you!” He fired off a string of bursts as the hover tank withered away.
Where to? she thought. More practically, she said, “I can’t! My leg.”
He looked down to see Susan’s right leg was gone. Pink spatter spoke to the grenade that had performed the crude amputation. Taking a precious fraction of a second to consult the tac-map
on his visor, Hido noticed two things: the enemy was fast closing in on their position and Trent’s rescue force was almost upon them.
“Do you have any grenades left?” he asked.
“Yes.” She gritted her teeth in pain.
“Fire them all, now!”
Hido swung his rifle onto his back and reached with both hands for the grenades on his belt. With three consecutive dual tosses, he emptied his own allotment. Not waiting for Susan to finish her own firing, he scooped her up in his arms and ran downhill for safety.
Meters away, the ejection seat erupted from a barrage of Kitright grenades. The blast wave almost knocked Hido off his feet, but he managed to stumble to the hill’s edge. Leaping off, he landed at an awkward angle. Susan tumbled from his arms. They both landed hard and rolled to the bottom.
Bruised, bloodied, and with a fair number of broken bones, Hido rose to his feet and rushed to put himself between Susan and the ledge. She, in worse shape, lay behind the massive warrior.
He could hear hover tanks and Super Heavies coming up from behind. They were close, but the enemy was closer.
Kitright robots poked their ugly golden tips over the edge. He unleashed a fusillade of large-caliber bullets, sweeping his fire back and forth. Surprised again, the enemy hesitated at the top.
***
The densely packed enemy were an easy target. Seeing where the pair were situated, Trent, quite unnecessarily, ordered “Open fire!” An ungodly torrent of metallic hail fell upon them from Trent’s advancing force. The hilltop’s edge lit up with explosions and laser streaks, and within seconds, the entire enemy force was in full retreat.
***
Dazed, Susan looked up. Blue blood fell on her faceplate like a heavy rain. Smearing the thick liquid with her forearm, she gazed at a terrible wound in Hido’s back. Pieces of her ejection seat were lodged deep in the towering warrior, preventing the gashes from closing. She witnessed his mighty frame teeter before falling backward over her.
Crawling out from under his legs, she examined where enemy grenades had ripped through his black armor to inflict mortal injuries. Fading life flickered in his yellow eyes.
The Last Revenge (The Last Hero Trilogy Book 2) Page 24