Iron Legion Battlebox

by David Ryker

  “Two days after we were brought onboard the Mansoon, they released the list.”

  “The list?” I asked.

  “Of casualties. Those killed in action, those still missing, those injured. It was long. More than two-thirds of the crew. The Mechanized Corps decks were some of the hardest hit. One of the first impacts punched straight through the Mess Hall on the Recruits’ Level.”

  I swallowed hard. “The day of the exam…” I could barely hold my words together.

  She nodded gravely. “Nearly everyone who’d taken the exam was there, celebrating. Recruits, officers… proud parents and family members living on the Falmouth. It was a party. A night of enjoyment. And they were all killed — instantly.”

  I felt unsteady. Sick. Disgusted with myself.

  “Kepler hadn’t gone there. Her father and brothers were deployed on other ships. Her mother was with her father, thank God. Family rotation. The Federation is accommodating like that. If they weren’t, then…” Volchec sighed slowly and looked at the ground. “She’d come to see you because that’s the sort of person she is. She wanted to make sure you were okay, and to thank you for what you did during the simulation. It saved her life. But none of her friends, or any the others were quite as lucky.” She paused for a moment, letting the pain well inside me. “As your CO, I’m tapped into your feeds.” She tapped the part of her cheek just under her eye. “It’s standard protocol on these unmanned stations.”

  I sucked in a rattling breath.

  “I heard what you said to her, at the elevator.”

  “Does… Does she know?” I whispered.

  “That I know? That this is what we’re talking about? No.”

  I breathed a gentle sigh of relief, but it did nothing to dispel the nausea.

  “But I wanted to tell you, because honestly, I think you’re too self-involved to have figured it out otherwise. That chip on your shoulder is going to get you killed — and what’s worse is that it’s going to get someone else killed, too. There’s only four of you, and you need to have each other's backs. You may not be able to see past yourself — to get over the hardships you’ve faced, the shit that you’ve overcome — but we’re all going through shit. We’re all grieving. We all lived on the Falmouth. We all lost people. So I’m sorry if the atmosphere isn’t quite as jovial as you’d like right now — but I can’t have you stirring up trouble where there isn’t any. I don’t have any room for it on my crew, and I’ve got exactly zero fucking patience for it, alright?” Her words were like teeth sinking into my throat.

  I nodded.

  “This is your one warning.” She held her finger up. It didn’t quiver at all, like her.

  I stared into her eyes and could see the pain there. She was holding it down, keeping it locked up, but I could see now how serious a blow the Falmouth had been. How hard it had been for everyone there. Mac, Fish, Everett, even, as hard as she was. The vibe was off — different. That much was clear before, and like an idiot, I’d thought it was me. As usual. I couldn’t even imagine what Alice must be going through, and I’d been blind to it all. The others were hardened to it, maybe — years of being in the corps. But Alice wasn’t. She’d not seen active duty, so everyone she knew was more familiar, the relationships more secure. And then it had all been ripped away — like Volchec said, everyone she knew and loved. And all she was left with was me.

  “When you come back to the ship, I want to see you different. I want to see the sort of airman that believes in what we’re doing, and believes in his troop. I thought I saw something in you, Maddox, there in the room with Greenway — the sort of pilot I could use.” She exhaled slowly and half turned away, pausing only to drive one more knife into my chest. “Don’t prove me wrong.”

  She strode away, and I opened my mouth to say something, but the words caught in my throat and died there.

  And then she was gone, and I stood wondering whether I had the courage to go back to the ship at all, or whether I should just find the nearest airlock and eject myself into space.

  I thought about it for a while, and then swallowed my pride and the vomit in my mouth, and headed for the ship with only one thing on my mind.

  Alice.

  8

  I knew we were back in hyperdrive when I felt that same squeezing on the back of my eyes, and I hated it just as much the second time as I did the first.

  I was lying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, which was also the floor of the cockpit. When I’d gotten back to our ship, the only ones there were Mac and Fish. I’d asked where the others were, but they shrugged.

  I’d gone inside and into the living quarters to think about what I was going to say to her. I went through a brief spell of blaming Everett, but then realized that if I did that, I was just being petty. It wasn’t her fault, it was mine. I was the one with my head shoved up my ass.

  Time came and went and eventually, they delivered the mech. The side of the hangar opened up and they were brought in on automated forklifts.

  When all the clanging and the clanking was done and the mech were loaded in, the doors hummed closed and sealed and then the engines started spooling. I sat up and cursed. They must have slipped in while the mech were being secured., though where they’d been I wasn’t sure. Probably talking about me, I thought — about what an ass I’d been. Then, I realized that the reason I was in this mess was because I was being such a self-obsessed ass, and that assuming that I was their topic of conversation wasn’t exactly turning over a new leaf.

  Then came the eyeball squeeze, and I knew we’d dropped back into hyperdrive. I still had no idea where we were going, or what the mission was, though if we were in hyperdrive, that meant we were definitely en route somewhere.

  I rolled to my feet and headed for the door, stopping at the threshold. I looked at my hand — it was shaking. I was nervous. Nervous to see them, to see Alice. I couldn’t well apologize to the whole room, could I? Could I? I ground my teeth, hand halfway to the pad to open it. What would I say? How was I going to do this? Was I just to waltz in and say, Hey, guys, sorry I’ve been an ass, promise not to be such an ass in the future, cool? I swallowed hard and leaned forward, gently banging my head against the door.

  I got three clean strikes in before it slid open and I stumbled forward. Fish was standing there, but made no attempt to catch me, and instead just stepped smoothly aside, letting me stumble about five feet into the hold. I staggered and stayed upright, staring at the cargo bay, which now looked a lot different. Four huge, brand new, unbranded mech were standing there, harnessed to the ceiling. In front was Mac’s HAM, then was Alice’s Ace, my House Cat, and at the back, Fish’s Panther. They were missing the blue and white liveries of the Mech Corps, and instead had been colored a deep gray — near enough bare steel, just over-sprayed to take off the sheen. I swallowed and stood up, catching my breath. They looked menacing — like obelisks, stark still and reeking of death, just waiting to be brought to life and used.

  Fish laid a hand on my shoulder and I turned. I watched his throat move in and out and a strange, modulated voice rang in my inner ears. “Volchec… Wants… You... Upstairs… Briefing…” He nodded to me, and then turned away and headed up the steps toward the cockpit.

  I was dumbfounded — the chip worked. It had translated at least some of Fish’s subsonic mumblings. I couldn’t believe it. I let myself smile for just a second before the realization that everyone was waiting for me again set in. I felt my fists curl at my sides and then I set off after Fish up the stairs.

  When I got into the cockpit, I was right — they were all waiting for me. The windscreen was that same hyperdrive black that it had been before, but now all the chairs were turned to face inward. From the center of the floor, a table had risen and spun outward like a fan to occupy the space between them. Volchec and Everett were in their usual seats on the far end, Mac was on the left, and Alice on the right. She was leaning forward, her arms folded under her chin. Her bangs were hanging down over her
face and she was blowing them up in short bursts, totally engrossed, or maybe indifferent to me — maybe just letting me know she was indifferent.

  I tore my eyes away and looked at Mac, who was slouched backward, arms folded. Fish stood next to him.

  Volchec sighed. “Have a good sleep, Maddox?” she asked flatly.

  “I wasn’t sleeping,” I said bluntly.

  She raised an eyebrow at my tone but let it slide. “Well, you’re here now, so we can finally begin.” Volchec exhaled and rubbed her head. “Okay, let’s get to this, then, shall we?” It was a question, but no one replied. She reached forward and tapped a few buttons on the console that sat between the two pilots’ chairs. The lights in the cabin dipped and in the middle of the table, a series of lights started flickering. Above it, a holographic visage of a planet formed, fizzled, and then settled, rotating slowly with a whitish glow. I stared at the hologram for a few seconds. It was rotating on the wrong axis, as though the pole was pointing directly at me. The portion of the planet I could see was totally in darkness, and the beams were having a tough job of contouring the surface with the lack of light being projected.

  I walked slowly around the table until I could see the equator. It was glittering with lights in the gloom. The other pole was totally engulfed in sunlight. On the sunny side, there was a large crater cut in the surface like someone had taken a bite out of it. I pursed my lips, watching the twinkling lights stretch all around the planet.

  “This is Telmareen,” Volchec said after a while. “A lovely little planet in the Ohvleclome system.” She wrestled with the alien word and then cleared her throat. “Anyone notice anyone interesting about it?”

  “It’s spinning sideways,” Alice said in as drab a voice as she could muster.

  “That’s right. Its axis is perpendicular to the star that it’s orbiting around. Anyone want to hazard a guess why?”

  “Asteroid strike,” I said quietly, arms folded across my chest.

  Volchec made a gun shape with her hand and pointed it at me. “Bingo. Well, sort of. It was a comet. Clattered into the planet a few millennia back hard enough to knock it right of its axis — put the planet into an elliptical orbit, spinning on its side. One side forever in the light—” she held her hand up and turned it over in the air, “— one forever in the dark. So what is it about this planet, barely clinging to existence, that’s so interesting?”

  “I’m guessing it’s where we’re headed,” I said.

  Volchec nodded. “I thought that much was a given. What I mean is—”

  “It’s because,” Alice mumbled into her arms, “the comet that struck the planet is rich in a rare mineral or element.”

  “Is that a statement or a question?” Volchec asked.

  She shrugged but didn’t get up. “Call it an educated guess. Why else would the Federation have colonized it? No good for inhabitation. Must be something worth taking out if they’re not looking to put something in.”

  Volchec laughed to herself and smiled. “Very good, Kepler.” She stood up and reached out, running her finger around the ring of lights on the equator. “This is Telmareen City. The only city on Telmareen. It runs around the entire length of the planet, straddling the line between light and darkness, the only inhabitable band on the planet. The comet fragmented on impact, so large chunks of it are spread all across the light side. The city is a trading hub, manufacturing plant, and freight port primarily. The element that Kepler mentioned is one of the key components in manufacturing hyperdrive and wormhole cores. As such, it’s a pretty hot commodity. Telmareen is one of the primary sources of Iskcara in this galaxy, and the fact that the Federation is in total control of the planet makes some people pretty unhappy.”

  “The Free,” I muttered. There was no getting away from this conflict, it seemed.

  “Exactly.”

  “So what’re we doing?” Mac finally chimed in. “What can four do that a galactic armada can’t?”

  “Hopefully find out who’s dealing Iskcara under the table. Federation shipments have been arriving across the galaxy over the last few months, all a little short. The weights and measures on the manifests don’t match up with what’s being received. But by that time, it’s too late. The trail’s cold. Everyone’s swearing they’re doing their jobs right, and no one’s willing to point the finger. There’s about a thousand people that it goes through between the time it’s mined and when it’s delivered. We think that the Free are skimming somehow, somewhere, greasing palms or blackmailing maybe — and either stockpiling it themselves, or selling it for credits that they’ll be using to shore up their armaments. Either way, it’s bad news for us. We’ve increased policing in the area, launched investigations, but everything’s come up dry.”

  “So, what?” Mac folded his arms and flourished his hand. “You want us to go in there, crack a few skulls, get some answers in the way that those Feddy detectives don’t have the stomach for?” He scoffed and then grinned.

  “No, MacAlister, we don’t. Your type of diplomacy isn’t needed here.” She gave as good as she got. “We don’t know who’s crooked and who isn’t. Telmareen is a bit of a cesspit in terms of Federation colonies.”

  Mac fell silent, mumbling to himself about the efficiency of his type of diplomacy. Volchec ignored it. She was good at that.

  “Where isn’t?” Everett snorted, speaking up for the first time.

  Volchec pressed on, giving a cursory smile to what she had to assume was a joke — otherwise, it was borderline sedition. “Everyone’s looking for a break, a way out, a way to bank a little extra on the side. Don’t know how much it would take to turn a Federation official on Telmareen, let alone your average Iskcara miner or shipping clerk. It’s not exactly the sort of place you settle down unless you have to.” She scratched her forehead. “And therein lies our issue. We can’t trust anyone on the surface, and the Federation brass want this settled. They want whoever’s behind this brought down, for good.”

  “Killed, you mean,” I said.

  “Aha!” Mac grinned and sat up, pointing at the hologram. “Now that I can do.”

  Volchec motioned him down. “It’s not quite that simple. This isn’t just one person. It’s likely a network that’s hundreds, maybe thousands strong. We need names, dates, locations — whatever we can use to find these sons of bitches and get rid of them, for good. Whoever our weak links are, our traitors… Well, you know what happens to traitors,” she said, smiling sadistically. We did, but no one expounded on it.

  I swallowed. “So what’s the move?”

  “We’ve got a contact on the surface, a Porosian, the same race as the officer that’d first conscripted me back on Genesis, named Barva. He’s been there for a few weeks, trying to dig up leads, putting the word around in the seediest places that he’s got a buyer on the hook looking for Iskcara, if there’s anyone who can supply it,” Volchec said.

  “And you want us to meet him, meet the person he’s set us up with, find out what we can about where it comes from?” Kepler asked, finally sitting up. I looked over, but she didn’t return my gaze.

  Volchec sighed. “Unfortunately not. We lost contact with him two days ago — hence the urgency. He missed his check-in. It was almost opportune timing that we were able to put this little band together. Greenway’s overseeing the investigation and his solution was to round up everyone involved in the process, from the miners to the pilots, and put guns to their heads. Not exactly efficient, or the sort of image we want to paint of the Federation.”

  “Since when do we care about image?” Mac asked airily.

  “When the people who are supplying our ships with Iskcara are civilians and could overthrow our forces on the planet with ease if they were so inclined — with the help of the Free presence there, hidden or not. It’s not something we want to risk, really.”

  “So we’re there to find the contact?” I interjected.

  Volchec nodded. “And find out why he didn’t check in — what he stumb
led on, or who.”

  “Report back, and then go from there?” Kepler had her hands flat on the table now.

  “Exactly. We should be there in a few hours, so I’d read up on Telmareen while you can. Might be a culture shock for some of you.” Her eyes seemed to linger on me longer than on anyone else. “We’re going in with our eyes closed, here, and it’s just us. If we fail, then Greenway’s going to greenlight his op, and then the whole planet’s going to suffer. There’s a crate full of plain clothes in the hold — hope I got everyone’s measurements right. Drop anything that looks Federation and take nothing in that’ll give you away. If they think even for a second that you’re with the Federation, they’ll close ranks and we’ll never see Barva again, or find out who’s running the show down there.”

  “So who are we supposed to be?” Mac asked.

  “Mercs. Guns for hire. There are groups of them operating all over the galaxy — Federation tech isn’t too tough to come by, especially not for those with enough credits. Groups of pilots — Federation runaways or dropouts, or just ambitious civilians — use our tech for whatever they like. There’s not much that’ll stand up to a well-organized attack from a mech squadron, so as you can imagine, their services go for a good chunk of credits when a private war needs ending.”

  “That’s why they’re not branded with the Federation colors,” I said, nodding in understanding.

  “Bingo. We need this to be totally off the books. We’re going to set down outside Telmareen City and you’re going to head in on foot, scope the place out, see what you can see. The contact already outlined some places to start looking. Shouldn’t be long before you guys turn something up.” She smiled for a second, and then tapped a few more keys. The planet disappeared, and we all looked at each other. “Well,” Volchec said, “what are you waiting for?”

  9

  “Alice,” I said, reaching for her arm. “Can I talk to you?”