by Isaac Hooke
Per his orders, Bender had crawled another five hundred meters toward the eastern perimeter of the base. Bender kept the comm node of his mech operational but functioning in directional mode so that the signal was beamed away from the enemy.
Rade had tapped into Bender’s camera feed, and surveyed the base through his eyes. He distributed the feed to the others.
“This matches up with the Nemesis bases I’ve encountered on other planets,” the Anarchist said. “Razor drones patrol the outer perimeter, equipped with gamma ray weapons. Mobile defense turrets armed with energy cannons travel along the circular track bounding the base, ready to converge upon the side closest to any attackers. Within, armored units roam the grounds, ready to fire upon any intruders, or to offer artillery support to the defense turrets and razor drones. The spires in the center hold the communication nodes the Nemesis use to connect to the network between their ground and air units, and any ships in orbit. Around them, the minarets hold the various habitation and supporting housing units.”
“Habitation?” Snakeoil said. “You mean actual Nemesis aliens live here?”
“That is correct,” the Anarchist said. “They seem averse to fully automated bases. The few bases I have encountered have always had an organic presence.”
“Where would we find shuttles?” Rade asked.
“You see that big, stadium-like dome near the center?” the Anarchist said. “That’s their equivalent of a hangar bay. The tops swivel down when aircraft land. If there are shuttles present, they will be inside of that dome.”
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” Rade said, and he explained his plan.
“I don’t like it,” Bender said. “Why should the Anarchist get to have the most fun?”
“Because their mechs are immune to gamma rays,” Rade said. “We still have our part to play. But you can join the Anarchist if you really want to risk being fried.”
“That’s okay, I think I’ll pass,” Bender said. “I’ll stick with your plan.”
“That’s right, scaredy-cat,” Manic said.
“Scaredy-cat?” Bender said. “Bro, if that’s the best you can come up with, I can see why Fret chose you as his man love.”
“Actually, I chose you, Bender Baby,” Fret said.
“Bro, if you ever choose me, I’m quitting this racket,” Bender said.
“I finally figured out how to get him to quit!” Fret said excitedly. “Bender, be my lover!”
“That’s enough,” Rade said. “I’d like to see the two of you act more like the professional soldiers you are.”
“Sorry, Chief,” Bender said. “But you know we like to joke around before a big fight. Helps with the nerves.”
Rade sighed. Bender was right. They did need a way to let off steam, even if the joking became a little risqué. “I understand, and normally I don’t mind it. But today it’s getting on my nerves. I just want to get this done. We have a little over two and a half days of oxygen left, and—”
He glanced at his HUD. “That can’t be right.”
“What is it?” Tahoe asked.
“My oxygen levels are precipitously low,” Rade said. “As in, there’s only two hours left.”
“I see the same with my own supplies,” Tahoe said.
Other members of the team echoed the same response.
“It didn’t feel like we spent three days traveling across those plains…” Rex said.
“No, it was only a few hours, according to my time log,” Snakeoil said.
“Taya, isn’t the oxygen warning supposed to kick in when levels are low?” Rade asked.
“Ordinarily, yes,” Taya replied.
“Why didn’t it?” he pressed.
“Unknown,” the AI responded.
“Were we unconscious at any point during the journey?” he said.
“No,” Taya replied. “At least not that I know of.”
“Are there any recordings in your database?” Rade said. “Accounting for lost time?”
“No,” Taya said. “There are no recordings. There is no lost time.”
“Then what happened to the oxygen?” he asked. “It’s impossible that we would have all sprung the same leak, losing the same amount.”
“I don’t know,” Taya said.
“Anarchist, have you done something?” Rade said.
“No,” the Anarchist replied. “I have not touched your oxygen.”
“TJ, are you seeing evidence of hacking?” Rade transmitted. “Or tampering of any kind?”
“I checked the logs,” TJ said. “Everything seems normal, except for the sudden drop in oxygen.”
“Cynthia, how are your oxygen levels?” he asked.
“They’ve also dropped,” she said. “I have precisely two hours left.”
“This is bad,” Rade said. “Extremely bad.”
“What do you want to do?” Tahoe asked.
“Well there’s nothing we can do now,” Rade said. “We basically have no choice but to attack this base, and immediately. We have no time to spare. Anarchist, proceed with stage one of the plan.”
The Anarchist’s mechs advanced at a low crawl. Cynthia stayed behind, hitching a ride on his mech, because she didn’t want to expose herself to the gamma rays.
“I don’t like leaving him,” Cynthia sent Rade.
“There’s a good chance the Anarchist will take fire,” Rade said.
“Yes, but there’s also a good chance you’ll take fire, too,” she said.
“Sure, but at least you’ll have the layers of my mech’s armor to protect you,” he said.
“We’ll see,” she told him.
The Hoplites and Titans spread out, forming a wide half circle. Rade’s team followed behind, and in half an hour they reached Bender’s position. Well aware of their dwindling oxygen supplies, there Alpha platoon halted, while the Anarchist’s mechs continued toward the main base. Meanwhile, Tahoe led a breakaway group northwest. Labeled S2, this group included Manic, Fret, Rex and Praxter, and they maintained their distance from the base as they circled the perimeter.
When the Anarchist’s mechs were five hundred meters away from the eastern portion of the circular track that ran along the outskirts of the base, they began taking cover behind the natural boulders and depressions in the ground, which would offer a temporary defense against the energy canons that utilized that track.
Rade waited until S2 passed beyond comm range, and then he gave the Anarchist the order to fire. Rade’s comm node was set to broadcast at a maximum distance of six hundred meters, ending four hundred meters outside the eastern perimeter of the base.
The Anarchist’s mechs opened fire with their cobras at the razor drones. They combined their shots, targeting a single drone with two weapons, causing the canoe-shaped aircraft with the big, razor-like rotors on either side to drop to the ground. Other drones raced forward to intercept the attackers.
“I’m picking up scattering gamma rays,” Taya said.
“Those drones are bathing the Hoplites and Titans in some serious radiation,” Snakeoil said. “It’s a good thing we stayed back.”
“I still don’t know how the hell they can generate such intense radiation,” Lui said. “It defies the laws of physics.”
“That’s what humanity said when we first discovered Slipstreams,” Snakeoil told him.
“The energy cannons are advancing along those tracks, and converging on the eastern perimeter,” Skullcrusher announced.
“I see them,” Rade said. “Concentrate fire on the drones!”
TJ transmitted firing solutions to all of them, and Rade unleashed his cobra at the drones he had been assigned.
Meanwhile, the Anarchist’s platoon launched the last of their missiles and grenades at the energy cannons on the track, and also redirected their cobra fire toward the ground units. The Titans among them were too far to fire their zodiacs at the energy turrets, however the drones swarming overhead were at the perfect range; thus the Titans laun
ched their electrolasers skyward instead, and those lightning bolts thundered into the air and arced between the closely packed drones, taking them down in clumps. Their debris rained down on the positions of the Anarchist mechs.
There were only a few of the razor drones left at that point, and Rade and Alpha platoon made short work of them with their cobras.
Then he stood. “S1, forward!”
The Brigands with him rose from the rocky ground as well, and joined him in the tornado rush toward the base.
The Anarchist’s platoon, dug in five hundred meters from the perimeter, were taking heavy energy cannon fire at that point. They were forced to repeatedly reposition as their covers were disintegrated by those cannons. Hoplites and Titans alike dove into hollows, or behind the wreckages of razor drones, whatever proved closest. Sometimes, portions of the bigger Titans would still be exposed after taking cover, and those areas would disintegrate when the energy bolts struck.
Rade and the others meanwhile zig-zagged back and forth as they ran, and unleashed their cobras at the energy canons, drawing fire away from the Anarchist mechs.
The armored units inside the base began to launch shells, forcing the dug-in Anarchist platoon to relocate short distances yet again, their ballistic shields held skyward.
Some of those shells spiraled toward Rade and the others, but they had ample time to disperse. Where the weapons struck, they disintegrated four-meter wide craters into the ground.
“Don’t want to get hit by one of those!” Kicker said.
Rade upped the transmission range of his comm node, so that he would be sure S2 received it. “Cyclone, take out those armored units!”
Tahoe and the other members of S2 would be rushing inside from the far side of the base, while S1 and the Anarchist’s group provided the diversion on this side.
Rade continued zig-zagging until he reached the five-hundred-meter mark, and then he dug in behind the debris of one of the razor drones. The others assumed similar positions around him.
He and the others in S1 continued to fire at the energy cannons so that most of the cannons targeted them; this allowed the Anarchist mechs to leave cover, and they advanced closer to the perimeter. The enemy cannons quickly targeted them, forcing the Anarchist mechs to dig in when the cannon fire became too great. A Titan was struck, and its torso disintegrated.
Shells began to arc toward Rade’s position. “Move forward!”
He held his ballistic shield toward the energy cannons—not that it would do any good if he was struck by one of those bolts. On cue, the energy cannons stopped assaulting the Anarchist’s team, and instead concentrated their fire on S1. Rade zig-zagged frantically, but those bolts were coming in too close. He spotted a small depression ahead, and dove behind it immediately.
He noticed the artillery attacks had ceased. That didn’t necessarily mean the armored units were destroyed, but that S2 was distracting them, at least.
“You okay back there?” Rade asked Cynthia.
“Peachy,” she replied.
He slid his cobra over the upper edge of the depression and switched to the viewpoint of its scope. As he aligned his crosshairs over one of the energy cannons, smaller, ground based units he hadn’t seen before began to emerge from behind the track-based turrets. These new units looked like steel spiders with laser weapons strapped to their backs; they were little bigger than ordinary humans.
“Bender, Kicker, take down those spiders!” Rade said.
“Robots pretending to be bugs!” Bender said. “I love it!” He giggled as he unleashed his cobra in rapid succession. The spiders began to drop. Rade thought the man’s weapon was going to be overheating soon.
Rade fired at one of the energy cannons, and ducked as others swiveled toward his position. The upper lip of the ground beside him disintegrated, essentially exposing him and Cynthia.
He hauled himself from the depression and dashed forward yet again, zig-zagging as he attempted to approach the track from a diagonal vector. The incoming fire was intense… he spotted a boulder ahead, and launched a lateral burst from his jumpjets to help him reach the spot faster. He arrived in a single bounding leap and dove behind it; the boulder took hits, quickly dissolving, and he was forced to rise again.
Tahoe’s voice came over the comm. “We’ve eliminated the armored units. They didn’t hold up very well to our electrolasers.”
“Good job,” Rade said. “Proceed toward the energy canons and take out as many from behind as you can. Be advised, smaller spider type units have joined the fray.”
Other mechs—Brigands, Titans and Hoplites alike—had also left cover, and continued toward the perimeter of the base, trying to come in at an outflanking angle. However, some of the energy turrets traveled along the track to intercept them, spreading out.
Rade was forced to drop once more, this time landing inside a narrow depression. He didn’t take fire, not immediately—there were still other targets out there more exposed than him.
He realized that because some of those energy turrets had repositioned, they were now within range of his zodiac.
He swiveled the electrolaser into place, and lifted it over the lip of his cover. He aligned the crosshairs over the central cannon, and squeezed the trigger.
The lightning bolt thundered from his position, struck the energy cannon, and arced toward the two on either side, taking down all three.
Other Brigands and Titans began to close within range of their zodiacs, and they, too, fired. The cascade damage quickly reduced the numbers, with some of the sparks arcing into the spider units near them.
Tahoe and S2 arrived a moment later, and his small group fired their own zodiacs from behind, so that shortly the entire line of energy cannons was reduced to a smoldering mass.
“Join Cyclone!” Rade stood, and rushed toward S2. He leaped over the track the energy cannons had been using, and as he reached his friend, he spotted movement in the paths between the minarets behind the Brigand.
Aliens poured out of the base of those buildings. They looked humanoid, but their skin was green, and their faces all tentacles. They carried some kind of laser rifles in hand.
“Terminate with extreme prejudice!” Rade ordered. He fired his zodiac at a group of them, and his weapon arced between all five, taking them all down. He switched to his cobra, and what followed couldn’t really be called a battle, but rather a slaughter.
“This way!” Anarchist said, winding through the streets toward the big, stadium-like dome near the center.
Aliens still occasionally emerged from the buildings and fired at Rade and the others, but their lasers couldn’t penetrate the ballistic shields the mechs used. They were always easily terminated, either via cobras, or a quick bash of the shield, or an arm.
“Squashing bugs like there’s no tomorrow!” Bender sang. “This is living! Yippee!”
The Anarchist reached the central dome. “I’ll have to hack inside to open it.”
“Who needs to hack inside?” Bender swiveled his zodiac toward the structure. He glanced at Rade. “With your permission, Chief.”
“Do it,” Rade said.
But before he could fire, the top of the dome swiveled down of its own accord, peeling back like some multidirectional eyelid, and a large, rectangular vessel floated upward. It was about the size of a United Systems troop transport shuttle, and probably served the same function.
“Don’t let it get away!” Rade said.
He fired his jumpjets, and across both platoons, the remaining mechs did likewise.
He arced upward, landing on the hull of the vessel. He activated the magnetic mounts on his knees and hands, and was relieved when his mech attached—there had been a chance the exterior wasn’t magnetic, after all. The surface was ribbed, and covered in small tiles that were probably part of some heat shield.
As other mechs latched on like him, the craft seemed to stagger and slow beneath the added weight, but otherwise continued steadily rising.
He checked his overhead map, and confirmed that everyone else had attached to different parts of the craft. Well, except for a Titan and Hoplite in the Anarchist’s party, who had apparently exhausted their jumpjet fuel in the firefight.
“Are there signs of any doors, or entrance ramps?” Rade asked.
“Over here,” Praxter said.
Rade continually deactivated and reactivated his magnetic mounts, allowing him to crawl across that surface. He reached Praxter, who was joined by Bender and Snakeoil.
“The hull is definitely thinner behind this region,” Snakeoil said, analytical device flashing on the wrist of his mech. An augmented reality overlay appeared over Rade’s vision, outlining the thinner hull section of the door.
“Let’s drill our way inside,” Rade said.
He and the others activated their cobra lasers in repeated pulses, repositioning them each time so that the bore holes began to form bead-like lines silhouetting the door, like the kind a metal press might stamp into sheet metal. When their lasers overheated, they swapped positions with other mechs so that the drilling could continue. Soon, a complete cutout outlining the door was visible. Big enough to fit even a Titan.
Meanwhile, the craft had risen to quite an altitude by then. Rade wasn’t sure if it was intending to enter orbit, or what. Well, it didn’t matter either way, because the two platoons were committed now.
“Smash it,” Rade ordered.
Kicker lived up to his name, and slammed both feet into the door. It crumpled under the impact, giving way along the cutout Rade and the others had drilled.
Laser fire immediately erupted from within, striking Kicker in the feet. He withdrew his legs past the edge, aimed his cobra inside, and fired repeatedly.
“There were eight more of those aliens waiting,” Kicker said. “It’s big enough to hold one of our mechs, but not more. The rest of us are going to have to continue hitching a ride on the exterior.”
“It’s still rising,” Snakeoil said. “Which means someone is still piloting it.”
“Could be an AI,” TJ said.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Snakeoil said. “We’re going to have to go in.”