Men on rappel lines hanging upside down, outside, righted themselves and swung to the floor, keeping their silent rifles on the Exo.
“Hey. My name's Kel Durado. You?”
“Darius Russo.”
“Can I call you, Darius? Listen, Darius, you seem like the type to recognize a good thing when you see it.”
“I thought I was.”
Kel raised his visor. “This is my good friend, Torres. He's going to explain to you why continuing to fight us is bad for your health. He's also going to make you an offer that's too good to refuse.”
“Architect. we have the vault.”
“Have you opened it yet?” Danyss said to the trooper.
“You said to wait.” The Exo Commando said.
Danyss strode from the entrance to the storage bunker. The fighting above had intensified after calls through the net confirmed the infantry was pulling back to the stadium. She assumed a battalion of troops supporting the existing commando would be more than enough to punish the lancers for interfering. Apparently after centuries, assuming was still a dangerous hobby. “Whatever you do, let nothing get through that entrance.”
“Of course, Architect.”
The blast door to the bunker was as tall as the ceiling, made to withstand an MRD hitting the planet. Designed as a vault to keep people safe until help arrived, it was a shortsighted place to hide the Baroness. What if someone had come to secure some equipment stored inside?
Powerful talons on Danyss' armor took hold of the burning metal that was once the lock. Heaving the door into its housing, she gave the commando a signal to hold. Motion activated lights swept the chamber, showing tables and chairs for events, stockpiles of supplies, and power generators. She dropped a contact holo into the interface. Moments crawled by under the noise of gunfire intensifying. With as much shooting as was echoing under tons of rock, the fight above must have turned into an all out war.
“Where is he?” the Architect murmured of Anaxis' absence.
“Ma'am, readings indicate a power source on par with those used in our crypts,” a technician said.
Danyss gestured to an Exo Lieutenant. “Take your men, conduct a grid search. I want every millimeter checked until you find the Baroness' crypt.”
“Right away, ma'am.”
A commando snapped to attention behind her. The noble held out her hand. The soldier passed her a sturdy armored helmet fitted with a face mask resembling a skull dangling hoses where the back teeth should be. She knew this helmet.
“Jazz.” Danyss tossed the helmet. “This helmet matches the operation files Vidar hot loaded to each of us as we woke. Lieutenant, gather your men, we're going back to the ship.”
“Without the Baroness?” the lieutenant asked.
“The Baroness isn't here. They have her!”
A crack formed in the stone in front of them. Rifles came up with the cyborgs forming a ring around the Architect. A meter long, eel-like worm dug its way through solid carcrete. A bifurcated jaw opened, making room for a myriad of slender tongues to flick back and forth, tasting the air. A commando on the flank pulled his rifle to his shoulder.
Danyss held up a hand. “No. This is Lasher. If you shoot it, he'll know we're here.”
The wall behind them burst into the room. A creature nearly as large as a Dozer walked beyong the debris. It looked as if the worm they just saw had been given the ability to run on four legs. It hissed at them, stopping to taste the air with a singular bulbous tongue. A second walked in, shaking the dust from its head before doing the same as its counterpart. The security ring for the noble moved her past the slithering worm on their way out of the main exit.
The lead worm dog bellowed, breaking up its howl with trumpet like blasts that ended with a flood of the beasts running from the hole to chase after them. They devoured the Exo Commandos who stood their ground, first. The phase rifles were effective if they dumped an entire magazine into the animals. While they were shooting one, another would flank, dropping the offending trooper to the floor. The end of its tongue broke into toothy tendrils. The beasts pried off the cyborg armor to get at the fleshy parts underneath.
Danyss shot a mini missile at the roof of the complex, sealing off the screams of her dying men. “If they dig as well as everything else on this planet, that won't hold them for long.”
They exited the underground tomb, their bionics propelling them as fast as their fear could carry them.
“Mother, Father, this is Malorena Danyss. Our dig site has been compromised. Send a gunship to the following coordinates.”
A voice mixed of male and female voices replied in the affirmative. “Additional orders, ma'am?”
“Yes, prepare the Moon for departure. We're in danger here,” Danyss said.
“Straight away, ma'am.”
Anaxis broke into the communication. “Anaxis to Danyss?”
“Where have you been? You were supposed to be down here.”
“We have our hands full at the moment. I see you've prepped our ship. I'd like a status report before you go.”
“The vault was a ruse,” Danyss said, her words dripping venom. “Your pet Dreadmarr betrayed you.”
“No matter. I'll kill this rabble and join you shortly. I've tasked ninth commando to recover the Phalanx and meet you at the rally point.”
“What happened to the Phalanx?” Danyss asked.
“Get to the recovery point. I'll be there shortly.”Anaxis said, closing the channel.
Anaxis slammed onto the stadium roof, crushing the steel work perch with his armored toes. The battle below had become complicated. Elysian forces dropped crab walker shield mechs and those wretched Vindicator heavy war mechs into fight. While the Host still had plenty of infantry supporting the Commando, it would only be a matter of time before those forces were whittled away by the lancers. His mentor had told him to honor his enemies. He should have paid more attention to that lesson.
“Danyss to Anaxis.”
“Report.”
“We can't get the gunship through! The shield is still active,” the architect advised.
Rotating his hulking powered armor toward the control tower, his optics interfaced with the local security feeds. Lancers controlled the intersection on the ground. There was only a squad of them guarding the command floor. However, it was the roof that was most interesting to him.
“Danyss, continue to rally point. Tell the gunship to stay on station in wide orbit around the city to avoid the Elysians. I'll get the shield open. Anaxis out.” He shifted to his external speakers. “You're good. My sensors almost didn't register you standing there.”
He turned to face Lasher. The light coming from below showed both were scarred and ashen after the events of the last few minutes. There was a cut on Orin's scalp bleeding from where the mask started, extending to behind his ear.
“Only an experienced Marshals Templar has ever brought down one of my kind, alone. By all reports, his corpse is lying in the street and you, you're not a Templar.”
“No, he's not, but I am,” came the call from Marshal Brand.
“I am,” Beth said. She was panting, covered in bloody sweat, and grime with her arm slung to her chest. In her other hand was her plasma sword.
“We are.” Four Justicars landed beside their allies. Their Gavoc swords were active, bathing the rooftop in spectral ruby light.
The shadows shifted back toward the crowd of Marshals. They traced along the roof, turning the mongrel's shadow into a revenant calling for vengeance. Marshal Ajax was alight, the fiery cyborg standing above a dark figure with white eyes.
“We are.” Mara Truveau, Lioness of the Athalon, projected her voice like thunder.
“Amateurs! You are nothing to me!” Anaxis stomped his foot into the roof. A tidal wave of force blasted the marshals from their perches. Engines flared to life under his dorsal plates, lifting him toward the opening in the roof. He brought his hands together. The Crucible responded, tearing enormous swat
hs of ground from the stadium floor. The colossal slabs floated through the expanse, grinding the wreckage at the center into a flattened mess. They hovered for a moment over the bleachers, slamming into place around the clubhouse box formerly occupied by the Exo warlord.
“Admirable to come together only to die in failure.” Anaxis flew to the next building, clinging to the outside. In great heaving pulls, the cyborg jumped into the building's face, heading toward the roof.
Lasher pulled Beth back to the roof from her place, suspended sixty meters above the arena floor by her remaining hand. They watched their enemy scrambling toward the roof of the nearby building.
“I'm sorry.” Beth sobbed.
“For what?”
Beth was crying. Trying to compose herself, she wiped her eyes and stood up. “I'm sorry I let him get away. If you didn't have to save me...”
Lasher held her arm. She gasped, looking at it in wonder as his hope flowed into her through the Crucible.
“It's people like you who saved me from my anger,” Lasher said softly. “You kept me in the light when my grief threatened to blind me. I've only ever wanted to say thank you for being a glorious blooming flower in a sea of desolation.”
Lasher sprinted toward a section of roof. The marshals recovering from their fall watched the mongrel glowing like a beacon in the Crucible. Great strands of force poured into him from every direction, turning the half-breed into a living maelstrom. He jumped, his arms and legs whirling in the air to maintain himself upright through the leap. He landed against an A-LAT flying by, loaded with lancers. They hoisted him inside, suspicion in their stances made clear by the rifles pointed at him.
“You're Orin Lashra!”
“That's right, Sergeant. Need you to give me a lift.”
“We got word direct from Sky Com that says you get the wheel on any boat you're riding,” the sergeant said.
“Then take me there and let's finish this!” Lasher pointed after his prey.
“On the roll! I'm Sergeant Frost. Welcome to second squad, Firefly platoon.”
Thirty-Three
“Devil Hunter Actual, this is Devil Seven.”
Brand brought his hologram up so that all could see it in their HUD. “Go for Actual.”
“Devil Actual, be advised we have enemy tactical bot buried under rubble. Our drones are calling out a power build up under that mess. Devil 3-7 confirms hostile asset is M-R-D. How copy? Over.”
Brand pointed to the arena below. “We have more of those ghouls pushing into the stadium. Striker is outside with Echo Company dropping by A-LAT. We don’t have enough time to pull our guys out and box in the stadium.”
“Devil Seven this is Lion Alpha Three. Confirm time to det and payload,” Mara called into the net.
“Lion Alpha Three, this is Seven, our man confirms it’s a level two device. It'll take out most of the city, even if buried. Worse if we leave the shield up. Time to critical, six mikes.”
“Standby, Seven.” Mara cycled into the Crucible, closing her eyes against the surge. The creature that had chewed its way into her eye, gave her astounding vision beyond that of Elysian tech. Massive stone slabs became transparent, letting her see the robot beneath. She shared her vision through the Way.
“Devil Seven this is Lion Alpha Three. We’re going to lift that rock. Tactical Mech is surrounded by energy field. Can you push to target and put enough boom down to blow out that shield?”
“Roger that, Lion. But no guarantee we’ll make it in the allotted time. We’d have to fight through. Over.”
Mara redirected her focus. “Justicars, can you help us?”
“Break, Break, Break, this is Devil One One. We have a ground asset on station. You doze the rocks, we’ll smash target, how copy, over?”
“Frazier, you sure you can do this?”
“On it, Lance Sergeant!”
The trooper climbed into the vacant pilot’s seat, fighting to see past the tears obstructing his vision. Locking in the pilot’s harness, main systems came on, attempting a handshake to his armor.
“Lancer Frazier. Are you attempting to power systems for combat operations?”
“Artemis, I need a hot start. We have to do some serious damage to something.”
“I feel it necessary to warn you, Lancer Frazier. My pilots do not fare well for long.”
“Can that, Artemis! Will fought for you because you're one of us. He died to protect his friends. You want to honor your friend? Prime the big gun.”
The mech blasted to its feet, startling several lancers forming a perimeter around the downed machine. Sensors showed diversions of power from non-critical systems into a weapons system with a folded gun icon. Frazier’s armor system struggled to keep him cool while life support shunted away to power the weapon.
“Lancer Williams was my friend?” Artemis asked.
Outer displays showed the lancers fighting tooth and nail with the Exo forces. The marshals were punishing the swarming ghouls, priming them for targeting by Elysian forces.
“You’re damn right he was. And now you’re surrounded by them. Your friends, your brothers, your lancers! They’re giving us a shot to save everyone because some monster wants to wipe us out. We ain’t going down like that! We’re the lance and shield. We do it for Will.”
Two canisters deployed from the back of the mech. Hitting the ground, they unfolded into long strips, deploying energy shields from their frames. Artemis took a knee as a rifle unfurled from behind her, the expansive barrel locking into place. Ahead, Latisha and her Hoplites smashed into the enemy line, working with the marshal supported lancers to keep back the horde who’d figured out their plan. The avalanche worth of rock covering the bot shook. They came free from the ground, rising meters in the air, dripping bits of debris as they rose. Artemis’ HUD tagged six Vosi individuals around the top of the stadium with outstretched hands.
“Lancer Frazier, magnetic accelerator cannon is primed. Target is in the open at eight degrees downward angle. Only enemy troops are in your line of fire. Messaging all lancer elements to clear the line. For Will.”
“For Lancer First Grade, Justin Williams. Firing.”
There was a moment where the world went quiet, holding its breath because it was bracing for the destructive capacity of man. The round left the barrel at ten kilometers per second. Retro thrusters fired from the mech, keeping it upright from the shot's recoil. A shock wave tore through the bleachers, throwing the ghoulish forces like leaves in the wind. Marshals braced their lancers in the Crucible, becoming storm breaks against the onslaught.
The RAT-7’s shield broke under the impact, barely an obstacle for the round to punch through the bot. Its frame shattered into a tornado of shards tinkling against the stone. The round blew through the back of the stadium, punching into the street. Hundreds of meters away at the top of the bleachers, the Vosi released their grip in the Crucible, burying the broken device under tons of rock.
Vortex cannons tore apart the ceramaclear windows, detonating furniture into impromptu flak perforating the walls. Anaxis ducked behind a support column, emerging from the other side to dump a portion of his rifle's drum into the A-LAT. The pilot's compartment burst into flame, turning the transport into a bomb on the street below.
Using another rocket-propelled jump, Anaxis cast himself into the void, smashing through the windows on the next building. He ran through the floor, ignoring the petty obstacles these feeble citizens clutter their spaces with. Chairs hit the wall. Cubicles with holo screens filled with personal pictures of family or fun times were toppled by the armor's passing.
Smashing through the other window, a pair of rails opened from the armor's back, producing gossamer energy wings. The armor soared along the building's skin, landing on the roof with enough impact to crack the carcrete. The Baroness faced him, flanked by the giant bots attributed to Madame Tarot.
“Baroness. We've been battling the primitives in order to rescue you. Why didn't you let us know you were
free?” Anaxis querried.
“Because I have been made aware of events in which you have been conspiring against the host, Vidar Anaxis.”
“Highness, you have been lied to.”
The royal armor opened, venting its controlled atmosphere to the outside air. The Baroness slipped from the mech, clad in a form fitting myo-fiber pilot suit. Her face, hair and skin appeared to be the model of perfection, far beyond any naturally occurring human. Beauty was a word for lessor beings. She was godlike. Upon stepping free, a crown of holograms arranged like a laurel wreath winked into existence, framing her face. “So then it wasn't you who murdered the acting Guardian after Nasdra Yon? It wasn't you who attempted to free us from the spy master by giving away our technology? Perhaps one of the other Phalanx sought to supplant my authority by staging this show?”
“All of that is true, Your Highness. The entirety of this was to free the Phalanx from captivity.” Anaxis pleaded. “The Guardian would have put us in debt to the locals for their assistance. In doing what I did, we usurped control of the Koda Corpoation, the spies at Triton, and we hobbled the marshals so they weren't a threat. We control our destiny as of this moment.”
An alert message flashed in his HUD. The enemy had disabled the RAT-7. He was running out of time.
“Very well, Guardian. With me awake, we can take our leave of this place. I see a gunship has been ordered to ferry us back to the Moon. How are we to escape?” the Baroness asked.
“I'll go below and disable the shield over the city. The shuttle will recover the Phalanx first, then us on their way out. I can defend you until then. Where is your royal guard?”
She froze. The most minute tilt of the head a sign to Vidar that something was wrong. Coming within arm's reach of his armor, she pulled on its abdominal plates, yanking him to a knee. “Nanites? You planned to infect me with nanites? This is the model altered by the mongrel. Speak your intent now, traitor!”
The Sentinel: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Hunter's Moon Book 3) Page 41