“And yet they aren’t,” Winterton said, shooting an annoyed glance at Tremaine—a rare display of emotion for the sensor operator. “I wasn’t finished. The carrier is in the process of deploying Ravagers en masse to the platform’s surface, as well as the autonomous mechs we’re calling Amblers. Dozens of robots have already made it to the platform’s surface and are being engaged by defenders stationed there.”
An urge to massage his forehead made Husher’s hand twitch, but he willed it to remain on the command seat’s armrest. “Ravager” was the Oneiri pilots’ name for the little robots that Husher had been contending with since Teth had first appeared, and everyone seemed content to adopt the term. It certainly fits. As for the Amblers, Price had shown him footage of the things in action, but this was the first time he’d actually encountered them. Ten meters tall, the Amblers were two-legged war machines that bristled with artillery. Taking one down was no easy task, and if enough of them made it past the defense platform’s guns, the soldiers there would quickly fall.
“Noni, a small addition to our course. During our final approach, I want us to level out over the planet, so that there’s no risk of our ordnance hitting either the platform or the colony below. Fry, relay that to the other battle group captains, and order them to fan out in a dispersed battle spread formation, to make that carrier’s job as tough as possible.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Given enough time, Husher knew his supercarrier alone would have proven more than a match for the Progenitor carrier. With the new addition of two destroyers and two cruisers, however, the enemy didn’t stand a chance.
And yet, the enemy mechs complicate things. Neutralizing the Progenitor ships before they managed to blow a hole in Juktas’ defenses wasn’t just about winning this engagement. It was about keeping the colony secure against the next attack, and the next. The two ships in Husher’s sights were almost certainly doomed—if they stuck around to fight, anyway. But if they succeeded in destroying a defense platform, the colony would probably be doomed too.
With that in mind, he opened up a two-way channel with Major Gamble. “Major, come in.”
“Gamble here. I read you, Captain.”
“Juktas is under attack by two Progenitor ships, and one of them is a carrier dropping Ravagers and Amblers onto one of the defense platforms. I want most of your battalion patrolling the Vesta’s outer corridors and guarding her vital systems, in case any Ravagers get in, but I need you to take two platoons to the surface of that platform and aid in its defense. Take Oneiri Team with you.”
“Does that include the Quatro mech?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, sir?”
Husher paused. “It’s not like you to question my orders, Major.”
“I rarely do, Captain. But I hope that’ll give it more weight that I’m questioning them now. If word of us harboring that Quatro gets back to their Assembly of Elders, I can’t see it ending well, for the alliance or for us. I doubt either the Assembly or the Union even knows a mech built for Quatro exists.”
“The Quatro need the alliance just as much as we do, Major. As for the Quatro mech, I won’t hold it back out of fear. For all we know, it could make the difference in saving that platform. I hear your concerns, but I’m not going to limit our force potential just to stay on the Elders’ good side.”
A brief silence followed from Gamble. Then: “I understand, sir. I respectfully disagree, but as always, I’ll follow your orders to the letter.”
“Your disagreement has been noted. Thank you, Major. Prepare to deploy your forces.”
“Yes, sir.”
Husher ended the transmission, his attention turning to his CIC officers as he wondered idly how much of the conversation they’d gleaned. It didn’t matter, ultimately—by now, everyone was used to the latitude the IGF gave subordinates when it came to questioning their superiors and offering “constructive” criticism.
Even so, Husher wasn’t used to Gamble questioning him, and it did give him pause. Am I being hasty in deploying the Quatro mech?
He swept the idea aside. A starship captain can’t let doubts undermine his own confidence in himself. Besides, he had to hold to the same principle he’d held to even before the war began.
Victory at all costs.
Chapter 20
Whirlwinds of Steel
“The station defenders and the robots are fighting over the eastern side of the platform,” Gamble said over a wide channel that included both platoons as well as Oneiri. Since the platform maintained a geostationary orbit over the planet, it was simplest to use cardinal directions in planning their assault. “That makes sense, since it’s the side closest to their carrier—they’re trying to consolidate their efforts to take out as many guns there as possible. Once the platform’s weak point has been expanded enough, they’ll obliterate it. The platform’s destruction is important to them strategically, and I tend to doubt they’ll even bother extracting their robots before it blows. That means we have to act fast.”
One combat shuttle could hold a whole platoon, but even so, Gamble had distributed the two he’d brought with him across four shuttles. Losing an entire platoon would do too much damage to the assault, and he’d wanted to spread out his risk.
A squadron of Pythons was keeping pace with the shuttles, trying to make sure they didn’t lose any. The Progenitors weren’t making that job easy, sending streams of Ravagers toward the transports. Two starfighters had gone down already, but so far the shuttles had remained untouched.
The Oneiri mechs shared in the credit for that. They were too big to fit through the shuttle airlocks, and they’d deployed straight from a Vesta flight deck, rocketing toward the orbital defense platform just as fast as the shuttles and giving it back to the Ravagers hard.
Accessing the shuttle’s exterior sensors with his Oculenses, it wasn’t hard for Gamble to tell that the mech pilots had had plenty of experience with Ravagers. They picked them off with astounding aim—probably with some computer assistance, too, Gamble assumed—and if the little devils got close enough, they simply ripped them limb from limb.
“The battle’s happening on the east, so we’re coming in from the northwest in a classic flank maneuver,” Gamble continued over the wide channel. “Oneiri, you’re taking the lead—I need you to start targeting down those Amblers as fast as you possibly can. Show us jarheads how it’s done, and we’ll do what we can to keep the Ravagers off your backs.”
He accessed the exterior sensors again and saw that they’d nearly reached the platform, with some of its turrets picking off the last few Ravagers attempting to get at the shuttles. “Nearly there, Major,” said Chief Haynes, right on time. “Prepare for a combat landing.”
“Roger that, Psycho,” Gamble said. “Don’t make it too gentle, all right? I don’t want my soldiers falling asleep on me.”
“I hear you, Major.”
With that, the shuttle connected with the platform’s northern LZ, skidding to a stop with appropriate roughness. “Move, marines!” Gamble yelled over the wide channel. “Move your asses!”
As he waited for the shuttle’s airlock to cycle through the usual processes, Gamble took another peek through the exterior sensors—just in time to see the Oneiri mechs crashing to the surface, using aerospike thrusters to soften their landing a bit.
Then he was outside, his R-57 clutched tight against his chest as he pounded across the metal deck of the platform, waving for his marines to follow. He’d had access to a full schematic download for the platform since before his shuttle departed the Vesta, but he hadn’t bothered assigning individual squads anywhere, since the flow of battle almost certainly would have rendered his assignments obsolete by the time they arrived.
Instead, he directed his troops now, as they ran toward the robots’ flank. Incorporating overhead sensor data from the Vesta along with on-the-ground intel forwarded to him by the platform’s sensors, he deployed his troops accor
dingly. One squad to a guard tower. Half a squad each to stairwells flanking a broad passage that opened onto the expanse occupied by the enemy. One full platoon to charge through that passage, and two more squads to range around and hit them from the north.
As ordered, Oneiri team ranged ahead of them all, metal legs pumping as they charged for the passage Gamble had designated. They poured through without hesitation, establishing a position just past the far opening, which would allow the marines to entrench themselves in the passage mouth behind them.
Even with the limited view afforded by the passage, Gamble could see how much heat the mechs were drawing. Clearly, the enemy already knew to take them seriously. Running as fast as he could to back up the mechs, he used his Oculenses to open up a corner window where his vision was magnified.
Heavy fire peppered the area around Oneiri as Gamble watched Ash Sweeney—whose teammates had nicknamed her Steam—retract her MIMAS’ fingers to reveal twin rotary autocannons built into the forearms. Threads of light lanced from them, connecting with an Ambler’s bulk.
Marco Gonzalez—Spirit—detached the heavy machine gun from his back, swinging it around to join his fire with Sweeney’s. They’d succeeded in getting the Ambler’s attention, and it turned to lumber toward them, a swarm of Ravagers rushing to join in the attack.
As Sweeney and Gonzalez focused on the Ambler, Beth Arkanian and Maura Odell—Paste and Moe—dashed forward, bayonets extending from their arms. They charged unflinchingly into the Ravager ranks, becoming twin whirlwinds of steel and death, even as the towering Ambler ran past.
As impressive as the MIMAS mechs were, the alien mechs piloted by Jake Price and Rug were in a class of their own.
Heedless of the friendly fire, the Quatro sprang from the metal of the platform to plant both paws on the enemy mech’s rounded torso. It went down, and a pair of javelins sprouted from Rug’s shoulders as it did, running the Ambler through. The Quatro proceeded to shred the autonomous mech with foot-long claws that grew and shrank as needed.
Another Ambler joined the fight, and Price took on this one, sprinting to meet his new adversary while hurling blue-white blasts of energy at it all the while.
Just before he collided with the Ambler, Price—nicknamed Clutch—turned his mech’s right arm into a massive broadsword, which cleaved his target almost in two. When Price withdrew, the damaged mech began stumbling in circles, internal circuitry sparking as it fired armor-piercing rounds in random directions.
A final energy blast put an end to it, and the Ambler crumpled to the platform, shivering and twitching.
I’m sure glad Oneiri’s on our side, Gamble reflected as he ran through the passage and selected his first target.
Chapter 21
Adaptations
“Banshees away, sir,” Tremaine said. “With a healthy dose of Gorgons and Hydras mixed in.”
“Very good,” Husher said. Since the start of the war, the Progenitors had been adapting to the reality of the IGF’s Gorgon stealth missiles, as well as their Hydras, each of which split into eight separate warheads. The enemy ships had to be running constant active scans of the battlespace, given how much their success rate at neutralizing Gorgons had gone up. Not only that, they now took every missile seriously, with the knowledge that any of them might multiply by eight without warning.
That didn’t come as a surprise to Husher, and he doubted it surprised any other military captain, either. That’s just war. New technology had its greatest effect when it was first introduced. Following that, the enemy adapted, and eventually they adopted the tech as their own.
But that doesn’t mean we can’t adapt to their adaptations. For example, the Progenitors didn’t know that IGF Command had signed off on a dramatic expansion of the Vesta’s missile arsenal, or that he’d ordered the inclusion of three times the usual number of Gorgons and Hydras in the current barrage.
Under his instructions, Tremaine had timed the barrage so that it seemed like a response to the waves of Ravagers the carrier had sent at the Vesta and her battle group. In part, it truly was a response, and many of the Banshees carried directives to neutralize the robots.
“A lot of the Ravagers are changing course to take down Gorgons, sir,” Winterton said.
“Acknowledged,” Husher said, still unsurprised. The enemy had also learned to have their Ravagers prioritize Gorgons, since the Hydras would simply split into eight the moment they were threatened. Hydras were also more difficult to distinguish from regular Banshees, and so the best bet was to weed out the Gorgons and then attempt to take down the entire remaining missile cloud with lasers and point defense systems, with the knowledge that the cloud would probably grow at some point.
“Captain, something just departed the carrier,” the sensor operator said. “It appears to be a mech bearing a close resemblance to the one piloted by Seaman Price.”
Husher leaned forward, squinting at a magnified visual representation, which still didn’t show much detail at this distance. The mech’s appearance did come as a surprise.
Suppressing a wince, Husher said, “Coms, tell Commander Ayam to launch the subspace-capable Python squadron now.”
“Aye, sir.”
He’d been holding the subspace fighters in reserve, hoping to keep from tipping his hand for as long as possible. He still hoped it wouldn’t be necessary to reveal their capabilities, but he wanted to at least put them into play. It wouldn’t be wise to risk holding them back, with a mech of unknown capabilities hurtling across the battlespace toward the Vesta.
“Have the Hero and the Impulsive direct a stream of all three missile types at that mech, Coms,” Husher said. “And tell Ayam to harry it with a squadron of regular Pythons.”
“Yes, sir.”
Husher tried to relax—as much as the unyielding command seat would allow him to relax, anyway. It would be some time before the mech encountered the missiles coming its way, and longer for the Python squadron to arrive. Still, more and more detail was becoming evident as the alien mech accelerated closer, and as he studied it, Husher began to notice differences between it and Price’s mech. This mech was more jagged, and its coloration more varied, with some patches as dark as midnight and others the blue-white of a clear day. The thing was half again the size of Price’s mech, too, and it didn’t take much of a leap to deduce it carried more artillery as a result.
It turned out he didn’t have to wait as long as he’d thought for something to happen. As the mech neared the Vesta’s initial missile barrage, it began targeting down Gorgons with alarming efficiency.
Stealth missile after stealth missile exploded harmlessly in space, until the last one had been neutralized. With that, the mech began working on the Hydras, triggering their onboard AIs to split them into eight. By the time the barrage was passing the alien monstrosity, it had forced every last Hydra to separate, and it had gotten a good start on cutting down the barrage as a whole.
Worse, none of the missiles had been fed the mech’s profile as a target priority—how could they have been? And so none attempted to retaliate as the mech blew them apart one by one.
More Ravagers got through because of the mech’s efforts, and they threw themselves at the rockets fired by the IGF missile cruisers, protecting their much larger counterpart.
For its part, the alien mech rocketed toward the Vesta. When it encountered the squadron of Pythons Husher had sent at it, it made short work of the Sidewinders they fired, and it seemed to simply absorb their kinetic impactors with no adverse effects. That done, the mech fired a rocket apiece at a trio of Pythons, taking down all three at point-blank range.
Husher’s gaze was riveted to the visual display as the mech sailed through the exploding starfighters, ignoring the remaining thirteen pilots, who used gyroscopes to swing their main engines around and give chase.
Shaking his head to clear it, Husher opened a private channel with Commander Ayam. “Commander, this is Captain Husher.”
“I read you, Ca
ptain. Go ahead.”
“I need you to take the subspace Pythons and accelerate toward that carrier with all possible haste. Order the transition to subspace only when absolutely necessary.”
“Acknowledged, Captain…but if the carrier vanishes in time, it’ll take intel of our new capability to the Progenitors. The same goes for the destroyer.”
“I’m aware of that, Ayam. But right now I have a mech hurtling toward the Vesta’s hull, and I’m not confident I can stop it. Threatening its base ship might be our only chance to turn it back.”
Chapter 22
The Sapient Brotherhood
With the help of the Ravagers rallying around it, the mech dispatched the latest round of missiles sent at it by the IGF ships. The little robots seemed perfectly willing to throw themselves on the missiles, ripping them apart even though it meant disintegrating in the explosion.
All in an effort to get that thing to the Vesta. Once it arrived, Husher had no doubt it would tear through his hull like tissue paper, and who knew how many marines would die in the effort to put it down. If they’ll be able to put it down at all. A vision of the mech laying waste to Cybele filled his head.
“Captain?” Tremaine said, the strain in his voice evident.
“Direct secondary lasers at the mech,” Husher replied. “And have point defense turrets prioritize it.”
“Yes, sir,” the Tactical officer said, and a note of relief crept into his voice—probably for the mere fact he was doing something.
Beams lanced out from the supercarrier’s forward secondary projectors, forcing the mech to jag to the left, then the right. The evasive maneuvers allowed the pursuing Pythons to catch up, and they lobbed more Sidewinders at it.
That got the mech’s attention, and it turned to confront them, immediately taking out a fourth Python with a massive energy blast that engulfed the starfighter, incinerating it.
Ixan Legacy Box Set Page 34