“We continue to move forward. Recon pattern. Indigenous sentients’ presence confirmed and reported. No indication of hostile behavior. Do not fire on un-sanctioned targets. Confirm.”
“Confirm,” Timber replied immediately. Erik put all questions of who the aliens were and why they were living on this world out of his mind and followed the woman over the crumbling ridge of the torn ground.
“Axander’s last reported position is less than two clicks,” Timber reminded him.
“My OPS is working just fine,” Erik snapped.
“Unit Argo-Typhon, alert. A second wave of Helos forces are descending on your position.” The soft feminine voice calmly warned them of impending death. “Four drop ships entering your airspace in three minutes.”
Helos drop ships were simple and had minimum power systems to ensure they landed without destroying the fighter cargo. Beyond that, no one seemed concerned about how comfortable the gliders were. Erik had never heard of the Helos recovering landing ships. It seemed they were as disposable as the species they used to fight their long-running war against the Diorites.
“Do we have trooper support?” Timber asked. Erik relayed the question.
“Negative. All resources are currently allocated in other sectors.”
“Assholes,” Timber muttered. “That means no orbital strike requisition either?”
“You know that’s how it works.”
“We could take them on you know.”
Erik grinned inside his helmet. “Be my fucking guest. I’ll be sure to remember you next dead-day.”
“Bitch, I’m going to drink to your memory at dead-days for so long, I’ll be the only one who fucking remembers your whiney ass.”
Erik’s response went unsaid as he focused his attention on the terrain ahead. They skirted around a line of missile craters stitched into the remains of a road. Abandoned wrecks of what Erik assumed were vehicles were scattered along the roadway.
“More of your non-coms,” Timber advised. He gestured at a cluster of decaying bodies in one of the vehicles.
“Zarans didn’t come this far,” Erik said.
“Maybe they didn’t need to,” Timber replied. “There’s signs of habitation all over this area. The Zed’s would have eaten all they wanted straight off the ground.”
“You have more in common with them than you think.”
Timber’s barking laugh rattled through Erik’s helmet and he kept walking.
iv
“Echelon nine, armor Command Axander, this is Recon team Argo-Typhon, copy?”
“Echelon nine, Axander, Copy.”
“We are inbound on your position. ETA ten minutes.”
“Roger that. See you in ten.”
“If everyone was this welcoming, we would have won the fucking war generations ago.”
“Maybe if you did your part,” Erik replied.
“Shit, you’d be dead if it wasn’t for me.”
“Way I see it, if it wasn’t for you, my ass would have been out of the fire more than it’s been in.”
The two troopers fell silent and walked as the second moon rose in a crescent sliver on the northern horizon.
“Argo-Typhon, this is Trooper Clix, we have you on our perimeter scans.”
“Confirmed,” Erik replied. The dust-marked bodies of the armored vehicles were arranged in a disjointed ring, ready to fire their heavy weapons in any direction.
A minute later they crunched the last few steps into the armored encampment.
“Welcome to sector Kilo-17.” Axander stood in an armored suit that was a slimmer version of the ground troopers’ gear. Designed for the confines of the armored corp vehicles. it allowed easier movement at the cost of protection.
“You pick up any native lifeforms?” Erik asked.
“Nothing but Zarans, Skivs, and some random shit.”
“What kind of random shit?”
“Small, and avoiding us. Which means not a priority for my unit,” Axander replied.
“You didn’t investigate?”
“What part of not a priority for my unit did you not understand?”
“We encountered unregistered human stock,” Erik said.
“No shit?”
“No shit. Young kid and a woman.”
“Where are they?”
Timber sighed. “The kid is dead. The woman took off.”
Erik changed the subject. “You were notified about the Helos drop ships incoming?”
“Yeah. Not our priority either.”
“Exactly what the fuck are you doing out here, Axander?”
“Well, trooper, we are winning the war for the Diorites.”
“Great!” Timber cut in. “Does that mean we can go home now?”
“You can fuck off any time you like,” Axander replied.
“Stand down,” Erik ordered before Timber could escalate. “We have orders to provide recon support to this sector.”
“Be my fucking guest.” Axander leaned back against the armored flank of the tank and folded his arms.
“We need to resupply,” Erik said.
Axander tapped his comms unit. “Clix! Front up!”
The side of the vehicle whirred and a hatch slid open. A trooper in the same slim-line armored suit as Axander stepped out.
“AC?” She broadcast on the open channel.
“Argo-Typhon are authorized for resupply. See to it.”
“Aye, AC. Troopers, please step inside.” Clix indicated the open hatch.
Timber went in, Erik on his heels. Axander reached out and caught him by the arm.
“Contact channel only. Trooper Erik, you need to understand. There’s all kinds of life here. Just like on every other world the Helos have tried to fuck over. We don’t focus our attention on them. We focus our attention on the enemy. Clear?”
“Clear,” Erik snapped back. The civilian woman’s anguished expression was still vivid in his mind.
Chapter 7
Erik’s rifle vibrated against his shoulder as he fired a steady burst of metal into a charging Skiv. The giant jerked and spasmed as the slugs penetrated the natural armor and tore up the soft tissues inside. Erik moved to his next target as the creature collapsed at his feet.
The radio chatter had diminished to operational updates only. Erik maintained radio silence as Axander’s squad didn’t need him telling them what to do. Kill the enemy. Destroy them before they destroyed you. That was the only reason they stood on this broken ground. Erik knew that he and his fellow mercenaries would still be standing after the last of the Skivs had been eliminated.
A blast rocked Erik and sent a cloud of dust and grit boiling across the ground. His sensors cycled through the available spectrums to maintain his visual advantage. A Skiv blundered past, tentacle arms thrashing as it struck out blindly. Erik stepped aside and blasted the back of the creature’s head until its dark blood splattered across his armor.
The servos in the armored joints of Erik’s suit lifted his boots and he marched forward through the ruins of the city, firing his rifle as he came upon a new foe. Each shot found its target, punching through the organic armor of a skiv’s back and decimating internal organs.
It was too late for Trooper Decoran. The trooper’s bio readings flashed negative on Erik’s screen. His limp body was lost from sight under the steaming corpse of the freshly killed Skiv.
“Clix, contact Echelon Nine. Artillery strike, Chaos Alpha Nugget. This position.”
Ordering an artillery strike on their own position could be the death of the entire squad. Axander’s armored vehicles were less accurate than the precision missiles of the orbital strike ships, but Erik had no qualms about the potential sacrifice. Destroying the enemy was all that mattered.
“First artillery strike inbound.”
“Fight clear!” Erik ordered. He provided covering fire as the squad moved out of ground zero. They blasted the lumbering Skivs and ducked under the whip of their tentacle-like limbs.
&nbs
p; For a moment, the atmosphere seemed to inhale, then the air and ground erupted in a hurricane of fire and shrapnel. Erik dived for cover, the roar of the exploding artillery drowning out all his system feedback. It would be a few seconds before he knew if any of his squad had survived.
II
The sun had risen and the all three moons were receding towards the horizon when a transport delivered two squads’ worth of troopers. Erik and Timber were given new orders; each was to lead a squad in support of Axander’s armored unit. Their focus was now on search and destroy of enemy technology and combatants. A quiet recon patrol was off the menu.
The air turned white with the atmospheric detonation of the incoming artillery. Erik’s visor shields darkened and he relied on the vision generated on the interior of his helmet screen to guide him over the lip of a crater. A heartbeat before the shockwave hit him, he rolled into a gap in the rubble. The air folded and a great wind sent the krete and rocks around him spinning. The churn of dirt and rock tumbled over him with the dull roar of a series of explosions that vibrated through his armor and sent his organs quivering.
A vapor of anti-nausea medication misted in the interior of Erik’s suit. He focused on breathing the metallic tang and let his equilibrium settle.
“Squad up,” Erik managed. His visuals flickered and went dark. His suit had taken a shrapnel hit and the system was re-routing power and data channels through backup systems. It would take time to return and until then Erik was blind.
A long-buried sense of claustrophobia clawed at him. Erik tried to breathe, feeling his throat close in panic. The sensor feedback in his gloves cut out as the system prioritized the available power. He dropped his rifle and with tingling fingers he scraped at the locking ring on his helmet. It clicked and slid counterclockwise, releasing the interior pressure with a hiss. Erik slid the helmet off and took a shuddering breath.
The air tasted of burnt flesh and chemical smoke. A thick pall of dust clouded everything and he could see no movement. Rolling onto one knee, Erik scooped up his rifle. There were no skivs left standing. The dead were twisted and scorched, silhouetted by the burning hulks of their landing craft. The heat pulsed against Erik’s exposed flesh and he swallowed hard.
“Fi... -roup. Coordinat-” The rest of the transmission was lost to signal weakness.
Erik stood, tapping at the earpiece of his comms unit. “This is First Trooper Erik. Repeat last.”
“First Trooper Erik!”
He turned, the amplified voice came from Clix, her AV-suit stained with dust and enemy blood. A silver gash from a Skiv strike down her chest plate shone like a lightning strike.
“You are in breach of armor protocol!” By stating his offence, she was logging the incident with the data cloud, what the troopers called an R and R, Received and Reported. It would be investigated and if determined to be a valid demerit, his record would be updated.
“Helmet malfunction determined my action,” Erik stated.
Clix strode down the scree slope of the crater and swept Erik’s helmet off the ground. She thrust it at him, managing to express accusation through her blank visor.
“First Trooper Erik’s helmet is malfunctioning,” Erik stated clearly for the record and to make his actions formal.
“First Trooper Erik, receive my report. Four fatalities recorded: Kalban, Decoran, Quink, and Macco.” Clix could have been on a training exercise for all the emotion in her voice.
Each dead trooper’s suit would be broadcasting a retrieval signal to the orbital fleet. Erik had never been told where the bodies went. He hoped they found the peace denied them in life.
The survivors regrouped and conducted system inspections and repairs. Weapons were reloaded and Erik gave the order for a five-minute rehydration and nutrient break.
“Trooper Clix, authorized access squad leader protocol. Get me a system report on my troopers.”
Erik wished he could suck on the feed tube in his helmet and wash the metallic taste of the scorched air from his throat.
The comms unit on his ear crackled. “First Trooper Erik, this is AC Axander. We are approaching sector Kilo-one-seven point four. Multiple heat signatures detected.”
Axander’s squad of armored vehicles were finding an alternative route through the worst of the ruins of the city. Erik assumed the city had stood for as long as the world had been inhabited. There was nothing left now, every structure reduced to rubble by the intense orbital barrage unleashed by the Helos and then the invading Diorite fleets.
The armored vehicles were not suited to the crumbling confines of narrow city streets with unstable ground over tunnels and any other cavities waiting to open and swallow them. Squads like Erik’s troopers would be sent to hunt whatever living prey hid in the shadows.
“Identified?” Erik asked.
“No match on registered enemy designations,” Axander replied. “It could be one of your natives.”
“Command, First Trooper Erik will locate and detain humans for interrogation.”
The comms fell silent for a second, then the impassive computer voice of the Diorite control responded, “Confirm. First Trooper Erik, proceed and identify. Detain unregistered human stock for analysis.”
“Confirmed, Erik out.”
“Confirmed. Axander out.”
“Clix, get on the farsight, isolate any of those human stock heat signatures in range. Orders are to detain live specimens for questioning.”
“Aye.” Clix moved to obey. The trooper would be an excellent candidate for the lead position in her own squad. If she could lift her eyes from Erik’s position as First Trooper long enough to prove herself.
Clix set up the observation post and monitored the scanner as it swept the area to a range of 3000 meters while the rest of the squad enjoyed the last minute of their R&R.
“Cluster of sigs, eight hundred meters, bearing one-twelve.” Clix reported.
“Squad up, possible unregistered human stock. Eight hundred meters, bearing one-twelve. We detain for questioning. Confirm.”
“Hup,” the squad voiced their confirmation.
“First, orders if we are fired on?” Clix transmitted on the squad channel.
“Shoot to wound. Minimize casualties,” Erik replied in kind.
“Hup,” Clix confirmed.
The squad moved out, their armored boots leaving sharp prints in the dirt. The trail showed Erik’s squad fanning out to cover a wider line of advance. They scanned the crushed buildings and rubble clogged streets ahead. The dying vegetation and rough ground left in the wake of previous assaults and bombardments gave little indication of what this place must once have looked like.
There had been no rain in the local area since Erik had been on world. The orbital fleet data service confirmed there were ten hours of remaining daylight and the forecast was for mild temperatures overnight, with clear skies. Tomorrow would be more of the same.
“Four hundred meters,” Clix reported. Erik acknowledged her update with a curt “Hup.”
Without his helmet, Erik had no HUD data to guide him. “Clix, update?”
“Pattern confirmed. Eighteen likely humans. Including juveniles.”
“Our purpose is containment,” Erik reminded the squad. They moved carefully now, following the contours of the ground and moving from cover to cover. For the first time since he left The Mess and donned the armored suit of a Diorite trooper, Erik saw the world without a helmet.
Erik waved Trooper Silian to the right. “Take a covering position ten meters,” he ordered.
Silian kept low and vanished into the drifts of dirt and rock. Even though Trooper Silian had as much experience in war as Erik, he was on record as refusing promotion to squad leadership positions in the past. Erik figured that Silian would be leading the fight to victory long after he was dust.
“In position,” Clix confirmed. The squad had reached their target points and waited Erik’s orders.
“Squad, First orders. Do not fucking fire un
less I command.” Erik eased to a standing position and with his rifle cradled in his arms he started walking forward. Each step through the broken krete and loose ground made more noise than the entire squad had on their approach.
“Translation protocol,” he said to his comms unit. “Standard speak to Kursk Seven-A. Unregistered human stock.”
Taking a deep breath, he set his shoulders and called out, “Hello!”
The huddled figures sprang to their feet. Small children were scooped up by mothers and the men lifted rifles and other weapons.
“I’m a friend!” Erik’s voice collected a strange echo as his words were translated into the neural net’s estimate of the local language and amplified through the external speaker on his crippled helmet.
One of the males stepped forward warily, holding a gleaming length of steel sharpened to a razor’s edge.
“Yu koshi!” the man shouted. “Invader!”
“No,” Erik waved a hand, palm down in a left-to-right gesture. “Protector.” The suit computer and attached comms unit had a direct connection with the entire Diorite network, and the computing power of that galaxy-spanning infrastructure was beyond imagining. Still, it would take more data to be able to communicate fluently with these people. If they proved to be of any value, they would be transferred to a containment facility like The Mess before the planet would be terraformed to suit the eternal Diorite Commonwealth.
The man’s expression of stunned disgust required no translation.
“My name is Erik. We are here to help.”
“Help?” the man turned and regarded the ruined city around them. “This is help?”
“The Helos, they did this. Not us. We came here to protect you from them.”
“He-los?”
“Helos are invaders. They came from a world far from here. They find planets like yours and destroy all life. We are from the Diorites. We come to save your world.”
Hard Corps Page 7