by M. D. Cooper
Kelly didn’t reply, and weapons fire rose up from the staircase they’d used.
Rika reached the southern edge of the building and peered down into the area below. The dropship was mostly gone, and only bits of the five enemy soldiers remained. The group to the west had taken some flying shrapnel as well—she could see two soldiers, dragging a third back to their ship.
The ship on the east end had two soldiers next to it, one training his weapon on Rika’s building, and the other looking up at the building on the far side, where Shoshin’s rockets had come from.
Such a surplus of targets. Which to blow up first?
Rika took up a position behind a column, and aimed at the shuttle on the eastern end of the courtyard. She’d spare the two soldiers dragging their wounded—for now.
One thing was certain: if the group that had been advancing on the burning dropship had carried a shield capable of deflecting a uranium sabot round, then chances were that their vessels were, as well.
Instead, Rika aimed at the soldier standing near the rear entrance of the shuttle. Back in the war, she’d learned that the Niets had a flaw in their ship shields: they would operate at lower level when personnel were in close proximity.
What she didn’t know in this case was whether the soldier in question was standing inside or outside the shield’s protection. Or if that vulnerability existed in other shuttles. Or a hundred other things.
She hoped he was outside the shield, took aim, and fired a uranium round at his feet. The DPU hit the ground, and the explosive force picked the soldier up and threw him back toward the ship.
Without missing a beat, Rika fired again, this time with her electron beam. The relativistic electrons breached the shield—and the soldier’s body—striking the interior of the landing craft.
The rear of the craft exploded, and Rika smiled with satisfaction. Whoever had fired those SAMs at her dropship was ill-prepared for the sort of firepower four mechs could deliver.
Knowing that her weapons fire gave her position way, Rika headed back into the building, toward the staircase where Kelly was still battling the enemy. As she did, Rika saw a shot lance out from the other building, where Shoshin was situated, and an explosion flared up from the second shuttle’s location.
Rika wondered how Crunch had advanced through the length of the building on the second floor without encountering more of the enemy. There should have been a dozen from the western ship between him and Kelly.
She reviewed the scan from the team and what the drones could pick up. There was no sign of the soldiers from the western shuttle, yet the drones above the courtyard had recorded twelve enemies entering the building.
Rika circled the stairwell and peered down into the third floor, looking for any signs of movement. She was tempted to release a drone and send it down, but worried that it might give her position away.
She released one nonetheless, but instead sent it down the length of the fourth floor. The last thing she needed was a group sneaking up on her while she was engaged with the enemy one level down.
Rika decided that going down the stairs was a recipe for disaster, and moved to the eastern end of the building, where Kelly had gone through the floor. It was a ruin from the missile attack, but not far from the stairs, a beam had torn a hole through to the third level.
She released a probe through the opening and only waited for the briefest of scans before dropping through.
Her feet hit the level below. The sound would have given her location away, if not for the thundering weapons fire echoing through the building.
Rika took stock of her surroundings. Twenty meters ahead, to her left, was the stairwell. From what she could see on the combat net, Kelly and Crunch now had their attackers caught between them.
Rika eased toward the northern side of the building, looking for the enemy she was certain should be present…somewhere.
But there was no sign of them.
Rika couldn’t think of anything that could fool a drone that wouldn’t also fool an eyeball. They both picked up EM-spectrum, and the drones saw a lot more.
Rika wanted to ask how, but Ferris—her bait—was in imminent danger. For all her caution and skulking, the staircase was going to be the quickest way to get back to him.
Unless…
Rika dashed down the length of the building and chambered a depleted uranium sabot round in her GNR. Using the locations Ferris had highlighted on the combat net, she targeted the ceiling overhead and fired one round, and then another. Her aim was true, and the ceiling—which was also the floor of the fourth level—gave way under the enemy soldiers and dropped them right into Rika’s lap.
There were six, all in matte black stealth armor, barely visible—even with all of Rika’s augmentations, and her helmet’s scan.
Whatever tech they’re using, it’s good.
Rika hoped hers was better.
Her JE-84 was already unslung, and she fired on the two soldiers closest to her before they managed to rise. She scored a lucky shot on a weak point in one’s armor, and the figure went down, but the rounds only ricocheted off the other, and he found cover.
Further back, four more enemies struggled to disentangle themselves from the wreckage, and Rika fired two HE rounds from her GNR, hitting one and smashing—she hoped—their shoulder.
Ferris had originally spotted eight enemies on the fourth floor, and Rika had only seen six thus far. Either two were still in the rubble, or they’d avoided the collapse and were still after Ferris.
Rika heard shots fire from Ferris’s sidearm, and knew they’d be ineffective against the armor these soldiers wore.
Disregarding her own safety, Rika rushed forward, leapt into the air, and grabbed hold of a protruding beam. Her momentum swung her up and around. She let go at the top of her arc and spun through the air, landing once more on the fourth level.
The damaged structure groaned under her weight as she slammed down, but Rika ignored any concerns and raced toward Ferris’s position.
She could see the muzzle flash from his weapon, but not the enemy soldier. Then he stepped out from behind a beam and leveled his rifle on her.
Rika reacted without thinking. She twisted to the side and extended her right arm, firing a chambered HE round from her GNR-41C into the enemy soldier. It caught him right under his armpit, and tore his torso in two.
Rika spun, scanning the area as she backed toward Ferris.
Rika reached Ferris and saw him staring at the stump of his left arm, torn off just above the elbow.
She grabbed a canister of biofoam from her thigh and applied it to his stump to staunch the bleeding, while Ferris swayed on his feet and stared at the twitching left arm on the ground.
“Shit,” he whispered aloud. “Good thing I’m in the right company for prosthetics. I’ll fit right in.”
Rika glanced out the northern side of the building and saw an assault craft lower into view.
Barne didn’t reply, but the assault craft lowered a meter, and two large-caliber chainguns opened up, tearing through the third floor. The combat net flagged the enemies on that level as combat ineffective, and then Barne lowered the ship and repeated the procedure on the second level.
Rika saw one of the enemies below roll over and reach for her weapon.
“Not this time,” Rika whispered and leveled her GNR, firing a round into the woman’s hand, blowing it clean off. “You’ll have some questions to answer before the night is out.”
A DEEPER GAME
STELLAR DATE: 08.09.8949 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Abandoned Industrial Complex, North of Hittis
REGION: Iapetus, Hercules System, Septhian Alliance
Rika stood in the center of the courtyard, near the still-smoldering remains of Ferris’s dropship. Crunch and Kelly were combing the area for any Marauder equipment and loading it onto Barne’s assault ship. Shoshin was already aboard, as was Ferris.
A ship was on its way—an armed pinnace this time—from the Golden Lark to collect them and bring the pair back up for some of Lieutenant Carson’s tender care.
“You just tell Bondo not to screw up my face,” Shoshin had said when Rika checked on him. “I’m good the way I am.”
Many mechs who had not opted for any reconstructive surgery would jump at the chance to do it on the company’s credit. Rika was glad to see that Shoshin’s acceptance of who he was held up under dire circumstances—or in the face of free cosmetic surgery.
However, none of that was Rika’s immediate concern. The local military was on the ground and they’d taken control of the situation—and the enemy soldiers.
“Look,” Rika said to the woman in charge, Major Dala. “I just want to have a chance to interrogate their senior officer or NCO—whoever is left. I need to know what sort of danger we’re in, here.”
“I’m sorry, Captain Rika,” Major Dala replied without an ounce of understanding in her cold, fuchsia eyes. “This was an attack on our soil, we have jurisdiction. We’ll keep you informed as the investigation proceeds, of course.”
Though Major Dala wore a Septhian Armed Forces crest on her shoulder, the armor it adorned was clearly of Theban design.
The SAF crest was slightly crooked, a visual sign of how well the absorption of the Theban space force into the Septhian military was going. Which was to say that it was a never-ending series of pissing matches. Rika was amazed at how much resistance the Thebans were putting up, when the Septhians had come to their aid against the Nietzscheans in the battle for the Albany System less than six months ago.
Maybe it was because she’d never had any to begin with, but nationalistic pride meant very little to Rika. The opportunity to kill Niets, on the other hand…now that was something she could rally behind.
What Rika wanted to know more than anything else was whether or not the Nietzscheans were behind this attack.
Unfortunately, the locals had arrived before she’d had a chance to do more than try to get a name from one of the nine enemies they’d captured.
“Can you more clearly define, ‘keeping me informed’?” Rika asked. “Who will my liaison be? Will I be able to at least observe the interrogations? Can we gain access to what you learn about the origin of their equipment?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know the answers to those questions. Your standard SAF liaison, Major Jeremy, will have those answers once command determines how we’ll proceed.”
Rika pulled off her helmet and stared into the woman’s eyes. “Major Dala. We’re both just trying to do our jobs, here. My job is to train up a force of mechs who will aid in the defense of this star system and elsewhere in Septhia. We’re going to bleed and die for your people—stars, I suspect we already have. We deserve to know who hit us.”
Dala didn’t even flinch as Rika spoke. Her fuchsia eyes met Rika’s blue ones, and she shrugged. “It’s not my call, Captain Rika.”
“Seriously?” Rika growled. “That’s how you want to play this? We’re—”
“We’re nothing alike,” Major Dala interrupted. “I’m a Theban patriot, you’re a mercenary. You kill for money.”
Rika snorted and raised an eyebrow as she gazed down at the Major. “Oh, and you don’t take pay? You live off the kindness of those you serve? Or maybe you’re a slave.” She lowered her voice and took a step toward the major. “Do you know what it’s like to be a slave? To be forced to kill? I don’t seem to recall the Genevian government ever giving me so much as a stipend back then. I suppose that must be the epitome of honor to you.”
The woman’s eyes widened, and fear replaced her smug officiousness.
Rika didn’t ease up. “When you’re trying to redeem yourself from spending most of your life as a mutilated killing machine, then you can say whatever you want about my motives. But until then, why don’t you shut your fucking trap?”
“I—” Major Dala began, but Rika held up a hand.
“When the Nietzscheans come—and they will come—I’d better see your altruistic ass on the front lines, not cowering behind your administrivia.”
Rika turned and walked away, worry about future complications edging out the satisfaction that yelling at the woman had granted.
Rika sighed and put her helmet back on.
Rika checked the ETA on the pinnace from the Golden Lark, and found it was caught up in an air traffic control mess of epic proportions. She sent a message for the ship to meet them at the training facility. It would be more efficacious to transfer Ferris and Shoshin there.
Rika picked up the pace, jogging toward Barne’s ship.
“Wait! Captain, we need you t
o stay onsite until our investigative team arrives,” Dala called out.
“I have wounded, and your ATC is a disaster,” Rika called over her shoulder. “Your people know where to find me.”
“I don’t, where is that?”
Rika laughed as she stepped aboard the assault craft and turned to watch Dala rushing toward her. “Why don’t you shove your head further up your CO’s ass? Maybe your answer is in there.”
Dala didn’t have a chance to reply before Barne ignited the ship’s grav drive, pulling the assault craft into the air. Once they’d cleared the buildings, he poured on the thrust. Rika couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t even bother to send in a flight path to the Iapetan ATC.
LAYERED CONCERNS
STELLAR DATE: 08.09.8949 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Marauder Training Compound
REGION: Iapetus, Hercules System, Septhian Alliance
“You sure know how to make an entrance,” Barne said as he led Rika into the training facility’s command building.
The Golden Lark’s pinnace had already collected Ferris and Shoshin, taking them back up to the ship for repairs and surgery. Despite his ability to fire the two missiles at the enemy’s overwatch ship, Shoshin had suffered significant damage from the crash. His left arm had been shorn off, and one of his legs was crushed. The wireless transmitters in his helmet had been destroyed, as had one of his internal batteries.
He was a mech’s mech, though. Not a word of complaint; just a visible eagerness to be repaired and take the fight to whoever had organized the attack.
Kelly and Crunch were visiting the base’s quartermaster for light refit and repair before joining the other mechs already on the base, who were currently patrolling the perimeter—neither Rika nor Barne intended to be caught with their pants down again.
“It takes years of practice.” Rika gave Barne a belated reply as she followed him into the squat building on the southern side of the compound. “And a strong dislike for bureaucratic bullshit.”
Barne chuckled and nodded as he turned a corner and walked down a hall lined with empty offices. “Major Dala’s not a significant player in the local power structure, but her CO, Colonel Zim is. Honestly, her behavior is probably just a conditioned response to dealing with him for so long.”
