“That’s my girl,” said Max.
“Congratulations would seem to be in order, Captain,” said Browning. “However, the Kazoku are certainly regrouping to storm this hangar. We should make our escape at once.”
Ritter opened a line to the shuttle. I just hope the Kazoku didn’t board it! “Come in, King of Hearts. This is Ritter. Do you copy?”
“I—I copy,” Dorothy answered in a halting voice.
“Dorothy,” said Ritter, “listen carefully. Tell NORMA to take off and dock in the experimental hangar next door. We need to evac Max, Browning, and their team. Understood?”
“I still can’t reach Zane,” Dorothy said on the verge of tears.
“It’ll be easier to find Zane once we’re all aboard the shuttle,” Ritter insisted. “We’re all counting on you. Bring the shuttle in for an evac. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” Dorothy said softly.
“Good job, kid,” said Max. “That can’t have been easy for you. Did Zane go and get himself in another jam?”
Ritter’s early warning alarm chirped before he could answer. His sensor screen showed six red dots speeding toward his location. He aimed his main camera in their direction, and a sextet of dark blue, boxy combat frames appeared on his monitor. “I’ve got six Dolphs inbound.”
Max grunted. “That bastard Masz must’ve called in a strike.” He shut his cockpit door and raised his Grento up to its full height. “The shuttle’s a sitting duck against those Kaks.”
Ritter tried to calm his fluttering stomach. His fists tightened on the XSeed’s control sticks. His retreat from the Ein Dolphs at Kisangani flashed before his eyes while Collins’ voice echoed in his ears. Bring everyone home.
“Barricade the interior door,” Ritter ordered Young. “I’ll take care of the Dolphs.” The EGE soldiers rushed to comply.
“Wish it wasn’t our only shot,” said Max, “but here we are.” His Grento stomped to the launch door’s threshold and readied its machine gun.”
“Have you ever piloted a combat frame in space?” asked Ritter.
“Only in a couple of sims,” said Max. “Worry about yourself. I’ll cover you.”
“Six Dolphs nearly scuttled our whole fleet,” Phillips said as he hurried toward the bomb-scarred door with a plasma torch. “What are Ritter’s odds?”
“Ritter’s not alone in there,” said Max. “Prometheus is designed to assist the XSeed’s pilot, if the pilot will trust him. Can you do that, Ritter?”
“Trust Prometheus?” stammered Ritter. “Like you trust Marilyn? I think so.”
“You’d better,” said Max. He pointed his 115mm machine gun at an acute angle to the left. “Because here they come.”
35
Three hundred meters to the left of the test hangar, the King of Hearts’ stretched-out hexagon hull began to inch out of the receiving dock. Six blue points of light were coming up fast twenty klicks behind it.
I can’t let the Dolphs get within firing range of the shuttle! Ritter rotated his control stick. The XSeed made a fluid quarter pirouette to face the onrushing enemy with no lag between command and execution. “That was pretty smooth,” Ritter thought aloud. “I hope the acceleration’s on par with the turn time.”
Ritter slid the throttle forward. He felt as if space itself flowed around him while the XSeed stood still. The shuttle blurred past on his left as the Dolphs grew in front of him.
“Don’t pull too far ahead!” Max warned as he launched his Grento. “I can’t lay down support fire beyond six klicks. Don’t worry. Your gun has a longer effective range than theirs.”
Ritter jerked the throttle back on reflex, only thinking how the sudden stop would send him lurching forward after the fact. To his surprise, the XSeed decelerated smoothly yet fast enough to keep from overshooting the Grento’s maximum range.
“Was that you?” he asked Prometheus. If so, he was starting to understand Max’s advice. The A.I. hadn’t second-guessed him. It had enacted his intentions instead of his rash commands.
Red flashes lit the void. Two ruby beams gouged trenches in the asteroid’s surface, and three lanced harmlessly into space, but one streaked past Ritter and over the lumbering shuttle’s bow.
That was close! thought Ritter. “Dorothy, what’s your ETA to dock?”
Another crimson barrage split the sky. This time, two plasma bolts buzzed the shuttle.
“NORMA says four minutes,” answered Dorothy.
Can I hold them off that long? Ritter wondered. He climbed fifty meters on maneuvering thrusters and scanned the oncoming Dolphs. All six enemy CFs carried plasma rifles and coffin shields like the XSeed’s own, except the latter were smaller and painted blue. They also sported visibly thicker armor.
They look kind of like Masz’s custom CF. Must be Zwei Dolphs. Ritter fired down at the enemy leader. Having once discharged the XSeed rifle’s prototype, he braced himself for overpowering recoil but marveled when a mild nudge traveled up his CF’s right arm. The lead Dolph juked aside a split second before the fat blue beam shot through its previous position.
“Keep your eye on those Zwei Dolphs,” said Max. “They’re faster and tougher than Ein Dolphs, and their maneuverability’s on par with yours.”
The Zwei Dolph team aimed their rifles upward. Ritter fired retrorockets. The XSeed glided back from the red volley.
Better they shoot at me than the shuttle. Ritter switched tactics and locked onto the Dolph flying closest to Metis. His target veered toward the surface in response but hesitated, probably due to fear of crashing. Ritter’s answering shot clipped the shield attached to the Dolph’s left forearm. The shield exploded in a ball of smoke, but the Dolph kept coming.
Along with its five squadmates.
They’ll hit the shuttle next. Ritter opened the throttle and swooped toward the incoming Dolphs, firing blue plasma bolts as he charged.
“Wait,” Max radioed from just in front of the shuttle. “You’re out of my range!”
The Dolphs rolled and banked as Ritter halved the distance between them. He set his neon green crosshairs on a random Dolph. His finger tensed to fire, but the reticle suddenly turned red. I trust you, he thought as his hand relaxed.
Prometheus locked onto the leader’s left side wingman, who was correcting from a roll. Ritter fired. A brilliant blue plasma beam speared the Dolph vertically, disintegrating its head. The Soc CF exploded before Ritter could blink.
“We did it!” Ritter curtailed his celebration to bob and weave between five angry red plasma beams. The leader would have tagged the XSeed’s left arm, but Prometheus added some extra lateral thrust. The ruby bolt passed close enough to fill Ritter’s left screen. Well, they didn’t hit the shuttle.
The Dolphs had closed to less than five klicks. Ritter worked with Prometheus to choose the next target. His reticle locked on, he fired, and the Dolph farthest to his right blossomed into a blazing sphere.
A shrill buzz snapped Ritter out of his trance. Two red zeroes flashed on his main display. He choked in panic.
“Ritter,” shouted Max, “what’s wrong?”
“I’m out of ammo!” Ritter ignited his retrorockets, but the four advancing Dolphs kept within plasma rifle range.
“Sit tight, kid,” said Max. “I’ll be right there.”
The four Dolphs spread out in a diamond pattern. Ritter’s mind reeled. He jetted up and to the right, but the leader’s muzzle flash grew to encompass his vision. Ritter steeled himself for the red agony that would speed him into eternity.
A slight tremor traversed the cockpit. Instead of burning plasma, Ritter felt only cold sweat. I’m still here. Did he miss?
The answer came as a second ruby bolt struck the XSeed. Steam sizzled off the white CF’s midsection, and again the cockpit rocked slightly, but Ritter’s readout showed no significant damage. The third Dolph scored a direct hit on the XSeed’s left leg with identical results. The fourth beam flew wide to Ritter’s right.
“
Each impact point lost one layer of armor,” marveled Ritter. “I thought nothing could stand up to a plasma weapon.”
“Carbyne composite armor can,” said Max. “Check your ammo.”
Ritter checked. The two zeroes had changed to zero one. Rather than question his luck, he darted down and to the side, lined up two Ein Dolphs, and fired. The pilots must have been stunned by their weapons’ ineffectiveness, because their CFs barely moved before Ritter’s shot blasted through both of them, leaving two white-hot balls of gas in its wake.
The leader’s last wingman defiantly leveled his weapon at the XSeed. Ritter reflexively dodged before the enemy fired. The Dolph adjusted its aim for another shot, but a hail of shells pounded its right side. The Soc raised his shield and charged Max’s Grento, which hung in front of the shuttle, spraying 115mm rounds.
Prometheus’ readout showed zero ammo again, but a wire diagram of the XSeed highlighted two rods extending from the CF’s back. Ritter reached XSeed’s left hand over its shoulder to grab one of the devices. A battery indicator bar appeared on Ritter’s screen reading fully charged. He toggled his weapon selector, and a scintillating blue blade sprang from the metal cylinder. I’ve got plasma swords!
Ritter rushed the charging Dolph at full speed. Space brought the Soc CF to him, and he slashed horizontally. His sapphire blade sliced through the enemy in a blazing arc. The XSeed shot past the bisected Dolph, and Ritter’s rearview camera caught the ensuing explosion.
“Thanks for the assist,” Ritter radioed to Max.
“Oh shit!” came the reply.
Ritter trained his main camera on Max’s Grento. The Soc leader was rocketing straight toward the older CF and the shuttle close behind it, which had just cleared the loading dock. With no rifle ammo, Ritter would have to close with the agile Zwei Dolph before it shot Max down. “I’m coming,” he yelled as he swiveled toward the receding enemy and punched the throttle.
Max kept his Grento positioned directly between the attacking Dolph and the shuttle. “Give me a hand, sweetheart,” he said.
The Zwei Dolph fired. Its ruby beam melted the soles of the Grento’s feet and singed the shuttle’s keel. Max fired a short thruster burst to steady himself, carefully aimed his machine gun, and squeezed off a short burst of tank shell-sized bullets. The Zwei Dolph’s rifle exploded, along with its right forearm.
Ritter finished his charge with a triumphant cry, but the Zwei Dolph drew its own plasma sword and rounded on him. Red plasma parried blue with a purple flash.
Turning his back on Max proved to be a mistake on the Soc’s part. The Grento heaved forward and sank the curved blade of its heat axe into the seam between the Zwei Dolph’s armored torso and left pauldron. Its whole left arm floated free. “Don’t fuck with an engineer!” said Max.
“Send me to join my brothers,” the surprisingly young-sounding Soc pilot broadcast to both of them.
Ritter pointed his blade at the Zwei Dolph’s cockpit but moved behind the Soc CF and sheared off its thruster nozzles instead. “Come on,” he said to Max as he glided toward the shuttle. “His friends will find him. Or they won’t.”
“You’re one lucky son of a bitch,” Max told the Soc before falling in beside Ritter.
“Why didn’t you tell me the XSeed can absorb plasma bolts?” Ritter asked Max.
“Thinking you’re invincible nearly got you killed ten times over,” said Max. “I didn’t want to encourage you.”
“Nothing’s killed me yet.”
“That’s what I mean,” said Max. “FYI, the XSeed doesn’t just absorb plasma. The 1D carbyne strings woven into its armor channel EM, thermal, and nuclear energy to an internal graphene capacitor. Hell, you’ll even get a small charge from ballistic projectiles.”
“The XSeed’s armor steals enemies’ shots and turns them into its own ammo?”
“It’s not that simple. First, it’s not really ammo. Your rifle draws power from the capacitor. That’s why you’re not lugging around a school bus-sized generator. It can store enough juice for twelve shots at a time. But not even superconductors are a hundred percent efficient. It takes three shots from a Dolph rifle to replenish one of yours.”
“Is the ratio the same across the board?” Ritter asked.
“It depends on how big a punch whatever hits you is packing. Be careful, though. Your battery has limits. When it’s full you’re still bulletproof, but plasma weapons will wreck your day. You’ll also be visible to radar.”
“So I can recharge my rifle by taking hits,” Ritter thought aloud, “but if I take too many the battery fills up, and the XSeed becomes vulnerable to energy weapons and easier to hit.”
“The armor also ablates under energy weapon fire,” said Max. “A direct plasma hit will burn off a layer of armor at the point of contact. You’ve got a hundred layers, but a hundred ain’t infinite.”
“Got it,” said Ritter. “The best strategy is still conserving my ammo and not getting shot.”
“One more thing,” said Max. “No matter what, make sure you never take a shot to the capacitor itself.”
“Is it that much worse than taking a shot to the reactor?”
“If the capacitor blows, that cold fusion reactor won’t be cold anymore,” said Max.
Ritter swallowed a sudden lump in his throat.
The XSeed and the Grento took up escort positions on either side of the shuttle as it maneuvered into the test hangar. “Get Browning and his team aboard,” Ritter ordered his men once the shuttle and both combat frames had landed.
“Yes, sir,” said Green. He and the other three soldiers moved to round up the techs.
The Grento limped over to an equipment rack on the hangar wall. Max picked out a gray box slightly larger than his CF’s palm and handed it to the XSeed. “Here’s a fresh mag for your plasma rifle. Reload and we’ll charge the empty one from the shuttle’s reactor.”
Ritter accepted the offered magazine but held it to the XSeed’s eyes for closer scrutiny. “Doesn’t the rifle run off the capacitor?”
“The capacitor’s your backup,” said Max. “This way you can sortie with full ammo, shrug off some hits, and be invisible to radar.”
“Could we rig up a way to charge the mags from the CF’s powerplant?”
“Not without compromising electrical and physical integrity,” said Max. “Solve that problem, and you could buy your own colony.”
Ritter swapped mags and passed the empty one to Max, who carried it up the shuttle’s cargo ramp in his Grento’s hand. The XSeed’s status screen showed the rifle fully loaded at twelve shots. The capacitor read empty. This’ll take some getting used to.
The XSeed’s comm chirped with a call from the shuttle. “Ritter,” Dorothy said hopefully. “Everyone’s aboard. Did you find Zane?”
“I—”
Prometheus interrupted Ritter’s reply by displaying what looked like combat footage on multiple screens. Each monitor showed a different camera’s POV. Ritter recognized the pitted landscape of Metis streaming past below. The XSeed took this video while my team and I were fighting our way to the hangar, Ritter noted from the timestamp.
At first, the video showed standard maneuvers from the XSeed’s POV. A purple flash signaled the start of a furious dogfight against an unmistakable black combat frame. That’s Dead Drop. Prometheus is showing me Zane’s fight with Masz.
Ritter watched in rapt fascination, only half-aware of Dorothy’s increasingly frantic requests for him to answer her. He saw Masz purposefully drain the capacitor and fly straight into the fiery exhaust from Metis’ huge rockets with Zane in pursuit.
The XSeed emerged on the other side with battery capacity to spare. Ritter held his breath and waited for Dead Drop to blast out of the inferno.
It never did.
As his hope withered, Ritter’s awareness of Dorothy’s plaintive voice grew. “Ritter! Please talk to me. What’s wrong?”
Ritter exhaled slowly. “Zane didn’t make it. Prep the shuttle for
takeoff. We’re leaving.”
“What?” Dorothy’s voice cracked. “You don’t know that for sure. We have to look for him!”
“This base is swarming with Socs,” Ritter said. “We’re lucky they haven’t come back in force and wiped us out. But they will, and every second we wait makes us easier targets. Zane’s dead. Get ready for takeoff unless you want to join him.”
The comm went silent. After a moment, a deceptively young voice spoke. “This is Browning. I’ve relieved Miss Wheeler. We’re ready to launch on your order, Corporal.”
“It Captain Darving’s call,” said Ritter, “not mine.”
Max cut in. “I’m not EGE anymore, kid. This is your show. Don’t screw up.”
Ritter smiled amid his grief. “Thanks, Max. I’ll do my best.”
“This shuttle runs a version of NORMA,” Max said with a chuckle. “She’s the first commercial A.I. Seed Corp bought from me.”
“You can make it up to us later,” Ritter said as the shuttle lifted off. With a deft motion of his control stick, XSeed strode toward the launch door. “Follow me out. Once the shuttle’s clear, I’ll fall in behind you and cover your six.”
“Roger that,” said Browning.
Ritter brought the XSeed to the hangar’s edge and scanned the starry black beyond. Nothing turned up, so he eased the throttle forward and sailed into space on maneuvering rockets. The empty void surrounded him. “You’re clear,” he radioed to Browning.
The shuttle slid from the asteroid, looking like a stretched-out honeycomb cell floating out of a boulder. When the shuttle cleared the hangar, Ritter took up a position behind it facing Metis. He kept his shield and rifle ready, expecting a hail of cannon fire and waves of CFs to bear down on them at any second.
“I’m picking something up on radar,” Browning said.
Ritter’s hands tensed on his weapon and flight controls. Prometheus showed nothing inbound from Metis. “Where?”
Combat Frame XSeed Page 26