Meltdown (Mech Wars Book 3)

by Scott Bartlett

“S’pose you do, at that.” Overton wrinkled his nose as he peered out over the land. “They’re not coming as fast as they did on the day Sable Hawthorne died. I tried to warn the others that day, but you think they’d listen to me? Then, later on, those mechs all came back, the four-legged ones and the two-legged one, but this time they were working together to kill everyone. Billy had his shelter, though. Billy had his shelter.” The last words came out as a mutter.

  “Do you miss your neighbors, Billy?”

  Abruptly, Overton’s head sank, his chin settling against his chest. “Yeah,” he said, and his voice hitched.

  Something about the endearing gesture got to Jake—resonated with him. He laid a hand on Overton’s shoulder. “I’ll go get my mech.”

  “All right, then.”

  According to Beth, Oneiri had found Overton in River Rock soon after the second attack on it. They’d tried to persuade him to accept an evac out of the town, but he’d kicked up such a massive stink that the soldier dealing with him simply gave up and told Overton he could do whatever he wanted.

  Darkstream had taken Ash to Valhalla Station to recover after the battle at Vanguard, along with Roach’s remains, and the quad’s.

  Jake didn’t think that seemed like a good idea—to hold on to what was left of the alien mechs for study. But it hadn’t been his call to make.

  Ignoring Bronson’s order for Oneiri to return to Valhalla for a debriefing, though—that had been Jake’s call.

  It was all of our call.

  They’d come here instead, to River Rock, to talk about the data dump Beth had given him, which Ash had received from the leader of Red Company. And also to discuss whether they wanted to work for Darkstream at all anymore.

  The alien mech sat outside Overton’s shelter, slightly slumped, as though lacking the life force that animated it when Jake was inside it.

  That thing’s like a sword with no hilt. It was a sharp sword, though, and it got the job done if you could resist its siren call.

  Which he was determined to continue doing. Sue Anne’s voice was too loud in his ears to do otherwise.

  When Jake returned to Overton’s side, there was a new gleam in the old man’s eyes as he beheld the mech.

  He likes tech—there’s no denying that. Jake couldn’t blame him. He did, too. Always had.

  Soon, what Overton had called a dust-up resolved into a force of hundreds of Quatro.

  As soon as it did, Jake opened a team-wide channel. “Inside your mechs, everyone. We’ve got company. Lots of it.”

  The three MIMAS mechs currently in operation joined him on the border of the Barrens minutes later. They managed to persuade Billy Overton to watch whatever happened from his shelter, though he wanted badly to stay and see it with his own eyes.

  At last, the Quatro force neared, and two humans walked at their fore—a young Korean woman as well as a woman of Western descent, who looked like she must have been in her sixties at least, though she clearly didn’t let her age slow her down very much.

  “That’s Lisa Sato and Tessa Notaras,” Henrietta said. “Traitors. They killed Darkstream soldiers on Alex.”

  Henrietta was the least convinced about quitting Darkstream, and she’d taken a lot of persuading to come here at all—only her loyalty to Oneiri Team had swayed her to ignore Bronson’s order long enough to join the discussions.

  At hearing the names Henrietta had spoken, Jake breathed a sigh of relief. “There doesn’t need to be any fighting.”

  Henrietta shot him a look. “Huh?”

  “You three wait here.” Jake strode out over the Barrens to meet the oncoming force.

  “Whoa, there, big boy,” Tessa Notaras said, leveling an assault rifle at him.

  Cute. Jake held up his hands. “I surrender.”

  When he spoke, Lisa Sato stared at him, hard. “I recognize that voice. Could it truly be…?”

  Jake opened his mech, a panel in front stiffening then lowering to make a ramp for him to descend.

  When he reached the bottom, he gave a little wave. “Hi, Lisa.”

  She ran to him, her boots stirring up little puffs of dust as she did.

  When she collided with him, she nearly knocked him back onto the metal ramp, and her embrace tightened hard over his frame.

  He hugged her back. “Whoa. You’ve gotten stronger since the last time we were caught wrestling in Percival Brown’s corn field.”

  She drew back from him, still holding both his arms. “Hi, Stink.”

  Wincing, Jake said, “I was hoping you’d forgotten that nickname.”

  He got inside his mech to take it back to River Rock, and they walked side-by-side, instantly launching into a dozen different memories about growing up in the Belt.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” Jake said, peering down at her. “Last I heard, you’d taken a job on Alex. I was so jealous when I learned about that.”

  That made Lisa’s smile shrink and grow tight. “It didn’t end well.”

  “I heard that, too. I’m sorry.”

  He happened to glance behind him, and then he stopped walking altogether. A quad had caught his eye, marching at the periphery of the host.

  “That’s Rug,” Lisa said. “She’s a friend.”

  “I see,” Jake said slowly. “Sorry…I’m used to fighting those things.”

  Lisa nodded. “Her mate piloted that mech, just a few days ago. He died, but the mech repaired itself.”

  They reached River Rock, and the three remaining MIMAS pilots were waiting for them on the village green. None of them had gotten out of their mechs.

  To show them everything was all right, Jake opened his own mech and got out.

  “Hey, guys, it’s okay,” he said. “We’re among friends.”

  “Sorry,” Henrietta said, leveling a finger at the multitude of Quatro, most of which remained just outside the village for now. “I don’t remember agreeing to include a bunch of Quatro in our talks.”

  “We haven’t even settled on what we’re doing yet, Razor. Depending on what we decide, these Quatro could prove to be valuable allies.”

  “I don’t side with Quatro, Jake,” she countered. “And the fact that you’re considering it frankly disgusts me.”

  Jake sighed. “I’m inclined to believe Darkstream really did provoke them. Hell, Bronson ordered me to abandon my own family to their deaths. And they would have died, along with almost everyone I’ve ever known, if I hadn’t disobeyed to return to Hub.”

  Lisa shot him a sharp glance at that, her eyes wide and full of questions.

  “Sorry, Jake,” Henrietta said. “This isn’t what I signed up for. If we’re welcoming these Quatro instead of fighting them, then I’m out for good.”

  “I am, too,” Beth said.

  Jake shook his head slowly. “For real, Paste? You too?”

  “Yeah.”

  Both MIMAS mechs turned and walked out of River Rock. A weight settled over Jake’s heart as he watched them go.

  He turned toward Marco. “How about you, Spirit?”

  Marco’s mech shifted its weight. “I’m with you, Clutch. Always.”

  “Good. Thank you.” And it was good, but it also seemed like Oneiri Team was no more. The team had been shattered, and now they would be nothing more than separate agents fighting on opposing sides.

  “Are we just gonna let them walk away?” Tessa Notaras said, gesturing at the departing mechs. “If we don’t neutralize them now, we’ll only face them on the battlefield.”

  “Yes, we are, Ms. Notaras,” Jake said. “And yes, we probably will face them. But they were my teammates, and I won’t dishonor them by gunning them down from behind.”

  “Then you’re no soldier,” Notaras said. “You’re a fool.”

  “Maybe I am,” Jake said, nodding. “Maybe this will come back to haunt me. But the members of Oneiri Team…we risked our lives for each other, countless times over. There are some codes that not even the demands of war should be permitted to break.
”

  Thank you for reading!

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  Dedication

  To my father, Terry.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to Rex Bain, Inga Bögershausen, Jason Pennock, and Jeff Rudolph for offering insightful editorial input and helping to make this book as strong as it could be.

  Thank you to Tom Edwards for creating such stunning cover art.

  Thank you to my family - your support means everything.

  Thank you to Cecily, my heart.

  Thank you to the people who read my stories, write reviews, and help spread the word. I couldn’t do this without you.

  Supercarrier tells the story of the wars that led to Darkstream’s exit from the Milky Way Galaxy, and it’s Book 1 of the Ixan Prophecies Trilogy. Two sample chapters from Supercarrier follow.

  If you’d prefer to just get Supercarrier now, click here.

  Chapter 1

  Providence

  “Providence, this is Gadfly. Requesting permission for landing. I have Captain Vin Husher aboard.”

  “It’s First Lieutenant, now,” Husher said, but the freighter captain had already taken his thumb away from the transponder. The man reddened at his mistake, but to correct it would prove even more embarrassing, for everyone.

  “Gadfly, this is Providence. You are cleared for landing on Flight Deck E.”

  They watched as the supercarrier grew bigger on the viewscreen—even larger and more beat-up than it looked in the news vids. Still, the sight made his skin tingle. No one could deny the ship’s majesty, or its quiet dignity, with massive primary flight decks spread out like wings. Or its menace. The Providence bristled with artillery.

  Command kept the old juggernaut out of sight as much as possible, but the public demanded to be kept updated on Captain Keyes’s doings. Just knowing he was out there, completing missions without reliance on dark tech, made people feel safer.

  Having recovered somewhat from his cringeworthy flub, the freighter captain attempted to make amends. “It’s been an honor having you aboard, First Lieutenant Husher.”

  Husher suppressed a bitter chuckle. The freighter captain had barely spoken during the journey into the Bastion Sector, and only once since they’d entered the Larkspur System, to tell his passenger they’d arrived. But silence was better than other types of treatment Husher’s name had earned him in the past.

  “It’s been a pleasure traveling aboard the Gadfly,” he said. “I’m sorry you were commandeered for the purpose of transporting me. I hope the Fleet’s compensating you for your time.”

  “They compensated me,” the freighter captain said. “Some.”

  Not nearly enough to make up for lost profits, I’m sure, Husher thought to himself.

  Flight Deck E sat empty, and no one came out to direct their landing, apparently confident that it would be pretty hard to screw up. A strip of dim lights offered a half-hearted suggestion of where to touch down, and the freighter captain took it, executing a much gentler landing than Husher would have expected.

  By that time, Husher had already donned a pressurized suit and was waiting near the airlock, where he’d clipped himself to the bulkhead in case the freighter’s landing had been closer to his expectations. The captain reappeared just as Husher finished entering the temporary security code he’d been given to open the airlock.

  “I wanted you to know…I was a boy when your father took the fight to the Ixa. He was my hero, back then. I-I don’t believe what they say about him. I don’t think he was a traitor.”

  “I do,” Husher said, punching the button to open the airlock. He stepped inside and turned to lock eyes with the captain as the bulkhead came back together. The hiss of departing atmosphere began.

  A row of inactive Condor fighters caught his eye as he walked through the void of Flight Deck E. The Ocharium nanites in his suit and his cells attracted the captured Majorana fermions in the deck, keeping him firmly anchored and simulating one G. For a moment, he wondered whether floating away might not be a better fate than getting consigned to this ship. According to research he’d conducted aboard the Gadfly, only two of the Providence’s eight flight decks saw very much action. I’ve been consigned to a museum, not a battleship, Husher thought.

  He stepped out of the flight deck’s airlock to find a woman dressed in full fatigues waiting for him on the other side. He chuckled. “Expecting a battle, Sergeant?”

  “Actually, yes.” She was having trouble hiding her disdain for him, and her eyes narrowed as they lingered on his facial hair. “In the Bastion Sector, there’s always a battle on the horizon. You’ll learn that soon enough. In the meantime, I’m here to take you to the captain.”

  “Lead on, then, Sergeant Caine,” he said, reading from her nametag.

  For all the ship’s size, the corridors that networked the Providence were incredibly cramped. Atmosphere was expensive, after all, mainly due to the cost of hauling it up from a livable planet’s gravity well. Dark tech had enabled many things, but it hadn’t been much of a boon to life support systems. So the parts of the ship where the crew lived and worked were kept as small as possible.

  “First Lieutenant Husher reporting for duty,” he said once he was inside the Captain’s office. The room was sparsely decorated—a photo here, a certificate there. Husher snapped off a salute.

  “At ease. And close the hatch.”

  Husher did so, turning to stand with his feet spread apart and his hands folded behind him. He was not invited to sit. Instead, Keyes took a moment to study him.

  “A beard,” the captain said.

  “Yes, sir. I grew it during my voyage on the Gadfly. Do you like it?”

  “It looks fine. It’s also against Fleet regulations. I want it shaved.”

  “But you’re no stranger to skirting Fleet regs, sir. At least, if your reputation is any indication.”

  Keyes fixed him with his famous impassive stare—the one he always wore in the news vids. It was bracketed by bushy eyebrows. “I’m also no stranger to having my orders carried out efficiently and without question. That goes for battle ops and it goes for how my crew present themselves—to each other, to their allies, and to the enemy. Shave the beard.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Your arrival comes as something of a surprise. Fleet Command chose to notify me a mere five hours ago, despite that you’ve been on your way to the Larkspur System for days. Reading between the lines, I take it your reassignment to the Providence is meant as an additional disciplinary measure, on top of your demotion. Is that how you see it too, Lieutenant? Speak freely, please. I would know your mind.”

  No problem. “Well, considering the Providence is understaffed, underfunded, basically on its last legs—”

  “My ship is not on its last legs.” Suddenly, Keyes’s stare was anything but impassive, and sweat gleamed on his dark skin. The captain’s broad shoulders rose and fell with deepening breaths.

  “You asked me to speak freely.”

  “And now I’m inviting you to stop. Given your sudden arrival, I have to quickly figure out where you’ll fit in. For now, I’m sending you planetside under the command of Sergeant Sera Caine, who you just met.”

  “Planetside?” I just got here.

  “Correct. Thessaly, to be specific.”

  “But I’m a Condor pilot.” Not to mention a ship captain, before I was demoted.

  “Your files say you have some skill in diplomacy.”

  “Xenodiplomacy. I minored in xenodiplomacy. Thessaly is a human colony.”

  “Nevertheless. Those skills may come in handy.
And it can’t hurt to get some on-the-ground combat experience.”

  “Combat experience?”

  “Do you plan to parrot what I say a lot, Lieutenant? Yes. Combat experience. Sergeant Caine is leading a strike against a band of radicals who have been attacking Ocharium mining operations in the Caspar region. You’re to accompany her. Are we clear?”

  “Clear, sir.”

  Except, Husher was only clear about one thing. Keyes is hiding something from me.

  Chapter 2

  Thessaly

  Whenever Husher went on a mission in the Bastion Sector, the same thought always ran through his mind: So much bloodshed over one mineral…

  This time was no different, as he entered the shuttle and looked for an empty seat. To be fair, Ocharium wasn’t just any mineral. Basically everything contained it, or at least everything that went into space. There was exactly enough Ocharium in any given object so that it interacted with a Majorana-infused floor as though in a one-G environment.

  After Husher strapped himself into a crash seat, he couldn’t help eyeing the coal-black reentry suits encased in plastic at the back of the shuttle. They were meant to enable the wearer to survive a fall from space in the event of a critical shuttle malfunction, but they’d only ever been used by one person, resulting in his death.

  A marine strapped in across from him apparently felt the same way. “Admiring Fleet’s idea of a safety precaution?”

  Husher nodded. These suits looked like the latest version, but he wasn’t convinced they were any better than their predecessors. “We had them in our shuttles too, back on the Firedrake.”

  “Firedrake, huh? What was your position there?”

  “It was…” My first command. My last command. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  To Husher, the reentry suits symbolized everything wrong with Command. The way they rushed new technologies without properly considering the consequences.