The Terran Mandate

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The Terran Mandate Page 23

by Michael J Lawrence


  Dekker cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, I guess I did."

  Simmons smirked. "What's next, are you going to tell me this is unsat?"

  "Lock up that unsat trash," Dekker said, a smile creeping across his face.

  Simmons chuckled. "I never thought I'd miss boot camp," she said. She leaned back and stared at the roof, letting out a long breath.

  "It was pretty simple and all made sense, I suppose," Dekker said.

  "None of it made sense," Simmons said. She shook her head, as if clearing her mind. "But it was simple enough."

  "Ever notice," Dekker asked, "how everything you really need to know comes from basic?"

  "Like recon and surveillance? The really useful stuff came later."

  "Well, sure. For me, it was infantry leadership training. That's not what I mean."

  "You mean how to think."

  "Improvise. Adapt. Overcome. It's at times like this when those words mean the most. This is when their true meaning comes to light."

  "We still have a mission. I know that, sir. But I still need a minute. We're tighter in recon than most."

  "What is that mission, Lieutenant?"

  "You're just not going to give me that minute, are you?"

  "The mission."

  Simmons pinched her nose and closed her eyes. "We need to establish the uplink and fire the STI after the Paladin has lured the Second Brigade into its track."

  Dekker smiled. "No." He spoke slowly, letting each word linger. "What is your mission?"

  She opened her eyes and looked at him. Her eyes flickered and the her face went slack. "That they shall not perish," she said.

  "That's right. And there are very few of us left to perish. You lost a squad. I lost a battalion. And the Second Brigade is bearing down on the Pyramid. We really only have one enemy left."

  "The Old Scrolls?"

  "No." Dekker turned off the camera display on his monitor and watched the image fade until all he could see was his own ghost of a reflection in the screen. "The only enemy left is extinction."

  Arrival

  Lt. Simmons eased the throttle forward and angled the control grip to maneuver the carrier up an incline of hard packed dirt and onto a flat shelf behind a ridge overlooking the Paladin's position next to the Pyramid.

  Dekker dialed in the frequency for Major Walker and activated the sampling system to create the encryption keys for his next transmission. The center screen on the radio console flashed a yellow banner while it calculated the keys and then flashed green.

  "Two Bravo Delta, Two Bravo Delta, this is Enforcer Six, over." Static hissed in his headset as he counted the seconds ticking by. "Two Bravo Delta, Two Bravo Delta, this is Enforcer Six, over." He started counting again as the hiss resumed.

  The Paladin's voice sounded like his was talking through a tube, but it was strong enough for Dekker to hear over the whine and creaking of the carrier. "Enforcer Six, Two Bravo Delta Actual, five by five, go ahead."

  "Good to see you again, Major," he said.

  "You too, Colonel. It's been too long." Dekker's heart thumped with pride. The words rang out to him from across time, the first words he had heard that let him believer he had made the right decision.

  "What's the plan?" Major Walker asked.

  "Right. We're en route to our setup for the STI shot. I don't have a time estimate, but the Second Brigade still has a battalion loose, so I'm guessing they won't start moving against your position until they reorganize."

  "How did it go over there, Colonel?"

  Dekker considered telling him the truth. The Paladin was entitled to that much, but it wouldn't help him in the coming mission. "It was a cakewalk."

  "Glad to hear it. I haven't heard anything from my listening posts, so I think we still have some time. Let me know when you're ready and we'll back them right into a corner."

  Dekker looked over his shoulder at the contraption they still had to connect, untested, and fire blindly according to a time table pulled from a hacked console in the heat of battle. "It's not quite that simple, Major," he said. "We need you to put them in a specific target area on a hard clock."

  The radio hissed. Dekker eyed the console as he waited for the response. "I see," Walker said. "Well, if it was easy, they wouldn't give us combat pay. How long?"

  "About an hour . I'll have a time hack for you in a bit."

  "That's a little short. The Second Brigade needs to be show up within the next half hour if we're going to make it a date."

  "I hear you. I'll be in touch shortly. Dekker out."

  He flipped off the transmitter and asked Lt. Simmons, "We ready?"

  Simmons eased back the throttle, letting the turbine settle into a hissing whine and unbuckled her harness. "Let me call the boys in and then we'll get this thing set up." She tapped her headset. "Badger Second, Badger Six, do you read?"

  "Lima charlie. We were beginning to wonder if you were coming back." She eyed Dekker and let out a quick breath. "Badger First is down. We're all we have left."

  A wisp of wind sent a sheet of sand scuttling across the ground while she waited for the response. "Understood. We have your bearing. On our way."

  "Hurry," Simmons said. "Badger Six out."

  Dekker unbuckled his harness and opened his hatch. As his heart settled back from the urgency of their flight, he started to feel the ache in his lower back. He groaned as he eased his leg out of the foot well and onto the dismount step.

  "Sorry for the ride, sir," Simmons said, straining to hide a smile.

  "We got out in one piece. Good ride," he said. He pulled his other leg back with his hand and a twinge shot up through his back. Stifling another grunt, he swung out of his seat and stepped down off the carrier. He stretched and leaned forward, bending forward on one knee and then the other to stretch out his muscles. He stretched his neck to either side as he strode towards the ridge, his pulse quickening as the tip of the Pyramid appeared just over the crest.

  As he took the final steps to the crest, the Pyramid revealed itself in the valley below, its pulsating blue glow visible even in the mid-day light of the Shoahn' sun. He estimated it was at least a kilometer away, maybe more, as he made a mental note to check the range with his plasma rifle.

  The Paladin's Cats standing between him and the Pyramid in three lines of four, forming an echelon firing line. With the Pyramid to his north, they faced off to the east on his right, the lances painted underneath their cockpits pointing towards the expected avenue of advance from the Second Brigade. Scanning the horizon from the line of Cats to his far right, he saw no sign of their approach. That would have to change soon.

  He tapped his headset. "Two Bravo Delta, that's a fine looking assembly sir."

  One of the Cats in the center line took a step forward. Even at this distance, Dekker heard the thump of its foot crushing the ground, along with the whirring servos and the snapping of compressed air conduits. The Cat stepped forward with one foot and back with the other, turning towards him. It repeated the cycle of forward and backward steps three more times until the Cat was facing directly towards him. The frame jerked as the control systems stabilized the frame and then it eased down into a crouch.

  Looking at the canopy, all he could see was the sun glinting off its polished surface, but he knew the Paladin was looking at him now. Something he had not felt in a very long time welled up inside of him. Dekker stood at attention and snapped a hand salute.

  Time stopped and let him stand on the moment's edge of forever to soak in a universe that stood still. The past fell away and the future turned quiet so that all that existed was the moment. The battle to come was now the only battle there ever was or ever would be.

  Even so, it never occurred to him it would be their last.

  Broken Promises

  General Godfrey tried to shake away the pain still needling the back of her eyes. Had she given that order? The veil of duty had become intertwined with a shroud of compulsion that seemed to be something apart from
her. Duty had always been something a good soldier puts between themselves and the world around them - something they funneled the very best of their abilities into at the behest of mission while holding back the rest so it wouldn't get in the way. But this something else, this essence that she felt like she was swimming through, this goddamn forgetting her own orders - this was getting on her nerves.

  "Griffin Six, say again, over."

  "Guard Six, I say again, we captured and serviced the remaining Marines who surrendered. Per your orders."

  'Service' was a word of duty, a word of convenience, a word that hid behind another word that told the actual facts, if not the truth. The Third Battalion had taken prisoners and killed them. She forced herself to see it in her mind's eye. Some Marine, his helmet gone, with his hands clasped behind his head and probably on his knees looked back at her. He had smoke and grime on his face and he stared at her not with submission, but with defiance. That face, with a brow set and lips drawn tight that said, "I do what you tell me, but I, too, have my shield of duty and you will never get through that. You will never get at the guts of this Marine. I fashion in my mind a dagger which you can never snatch away." She saw that, knew that man had been there. And then that face went blank as somebody put a pistol round through his forehead.

  Godfrey felt her knees buckle as she thought of this. On Dirt Hill, the last of the descendants of the Exodus colonists were now in chains, their Marine protectors vanquished. Hadn't that been what she was supposed to do? Was there more after that? The Enforcer Battalion, who had held her back just long enough for the Paladin to ruin what would have been the same kind of victory right then and there, was now gone. Was there something left?

  There was the Paladin, still guarding the Pyramid, but who needed it to rule the world when she already did? Light began to coalesce into shafts piercing the ether her mind was still swimming through. Each one of them was a question, guiding her to the surface as she kicked her way upward towards some vague notion of awareness. Clarity was a lost dream, forgotten in some distant past that was once herself. But awareness, at least, beckoned.

  But, the Paladin. By himself, they could deal with him at any time. Maybe they could even talk to him now. He was over there, still resisting her. He was over there, standing. He was over there, waiting for her. Why?

  "General Godfrey." His voice cracked in her mind like thunder, pouring something over her consciousness. It howled through like wind. The shafts of light receded and the ether disappeared. There were no more questions. The world snapped into place around her and she heard the rustle of breeze skirting through the brush at her feet and felt the Shoahn' Sun pressing into her eyes as she squinted against its light. Her head throbbed with a dull ache that she barely noticed anymore and the only thing on her mind was the shield of duty that stood between her and the world around her. Everything was clear now as the mission returned to its throne, topmost in her mind, the only purpose for her being.

  The static from her headset hissed in her ear. Right. Now she remembered.

  Shoahn'Fal stood in front of her, his eyes burrowing into her soul and the tendrils of his antennae rippling for just a moment along the top of his head. They stopped and lay back down. The pain subsided.

  "General Godfrey," he said again. "Did they find the Old Scrolls?"

  Right. Of course. The mission. "Griffin Six, say status on your search."

  "Nothing so far. We've checked every building and the trenches. We'll conduct a second sweep."

  "And the STI?"

  "We blew the communications block sky high. There's no way they could establish a link without it. I think we were baited, General. They set up a good defense; maybe they thought they could beat us here."

  "Roger. Keep me advised. Guard Six out."

  A part of her peeked out from the shadows and whispered. The STI - there's more. She pushed the whisper away, telling it to wait, to run, to hide. Keep quiet now.

  "They are not there," he said.

  "What?"

  "The Old Scrolls. They are not where your people are looking."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "Because she is not there."

  "Where are they then?"

  "I do not know. Still, we must dispense with the walking machines if we are reach the Pyramid. That task remains at hand." His eyes finally moved away from her as he walked back to her command carrier.

  She stood there for a few more moments, forming a plan in her mind. He stopped and waited. Almost without thinking about it, Godfrey stepped out and walked in trail behind him.

  He started out again, leading her back to her own command carrier.

  Paladin's Charge

  "Two Bravo Delta, Red Watch, flash. Enemy mounted three zero plus, tangos one five in trail, one kilometer phase line Red and moving fast. Over."

  Major Walker leaned back in his pilot's seat and reached up to brush his fingertips over the the Old Scrolls, now fastened to the bulkhead of his cockpit. The report from his Red Watch listening post put the enemy three kilometers from his position and closing. As he traced the outline of the triangle embossed on the case, he whispered, "Come and get it."

  The mystery behind the Old Scrolls was still beyond him - something he knew even now he would never learn about. What wasn't a mystery was the Second Brigade committing the remainder of their forces to get it. Colonel Dekker hadn't said anything about his battalion, but the fact that his infantry carriers weren't entering the line with his Cats told him all he needed to know. With the remnants of the MEF regiment guarding Dirt Hill gone, he was on his own. Given General Lane's defection, he half expected to see any MEF vehicles he had left rolling in with the Second Brigade. The idea of a Marine officer betraying his own still made his stomach turn as he absently massaged his left leg. That he had seen it twice just added to the imperative of what he had to do.

  More than anything else, though, it was the terror in Shahn'Dra's eyes. He could still see her trembling as she told him he must not come here. She had shown him what it meant. She had shown it to him so clearly that he could still feel the heat of the fires that erupted around him from when she put the reality in his mind. He had stood there, watching the end. It was as real to him as his aching leg and the Second Brigade now rolling towards him.

  He didn't know that the Old Scrolls had to be destroyed. He believed it. It was something he felt in his bones. Did the man who once commanded his Foot Guard understand that?

  Walker set his hand on the frequency dial on the coms panel next to his seat. The red LEDs displayed the frequency of his company net. It was only a matter of turning the dial. The image flashed through his mind - the farmers from the Highlands running away from the rail guns of the Terran Guard, then pitching forward and tumbling to the ground. Dekker had done the right thing and maybe they were the only two men in the universe who understood that. But there was a debt that they both owed to those they were sworn to protect because of it. He pulled his hand away from the dial. Dekker understood. Talking about it wouldn't make it any easier. The inevitable was at hand.

  He pulled the lever in his right hand and felt the world shudder as his C-2B Cataphract strangled the air with the electric drone of massive actuators that picked up its right leg to take a step backwards. He shoved the lever forward and the leg rose up and swung forward to stomp the ground in front of him. Fifty feet below, the ground leapt into the air in a cloud of dust and debris. The machine shuddered from its own weight as it shook the ground. Walker reached up and flipped a switch on the panel slanted above his head to engage the stabilization system that would send a flurry of commands to the actuators, hydraulic pistons and gyros to keep the Cat on solid footing as he moved.

  "Two Bravo Delta, all elements, give me a board."

  The display on the console next to his left leg showed a status light for each of his twelve Cats. His was already showing green. Almost immediately, the board flickered with the other eleven lights as they turned green.

&nbs
p; He pressed a button on the thin strip running across the top of the main console deck mounted in front of him. The Cat rumbled forward in a steady walk, the automation system sending all the necessary control commands to synchronize the movements required to make the robotic chassis walk. He checked the others on either side of him as they fell into formation with each platoon of four setting up a wedge as they moved forward. The formation put either of the other platoons slightly behind him while his own platoon took the lead, with himself at the very front.

  Specks of black and gray raced in from the horizon, a wall of dust swirling up behind them as the Second Brigade swept down on the Pyramid. He switched on the tactical display HUD and slewed the aiming reticle to the closest vehicle. His canopy lit up with a myriad of green lines and numbers showing its range, speed and location as a camera embedded in the frame of his Cat swiveled and zeroed in on the target.

  "First platoon, move out for the left flank, Second head right," he said.

  "Major, they're moving awfully fast here."

  "Slow up the troops first, then hit the tangos. We can't let those guys get on foot."

  He reached up to the overhead panel and flipped open the red cover on the master switch for his anti-armor cannons, then pulled the switch up. The entire frame vibrated as electric motors strained to lower the two Gatling guns down next to his cockpit. The barrels clunked into place and the center screen on his console flashed with a banner that read LOADING while the system fed a belt of 120 mm kinetic steel bolts into the breaches. A graphic of each gun with a green outline lit up and a large banner flashed in yellow letters at the bottom of the monitor: LOADED, then switched to green and displayed READY FOR ARM.

  Walker flipped the arm switch on the weapons control grip and slewed the reticle until it centered on the nearest troop carrier. He punched a button on the main display. Small lettering next to the gun display read: TRACKING 1. He punched another button and a new reticle appeared on the canopy while the first tracked its assigned target. He slewed the second reticle to another carrier and designated it as TRACKING 2.

 

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