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The Battle For Cyclops: A Xander Cain Novel

Page 7

by P W Hillard


  Follow the link at the bottom of this article to open the knowledge test. If you would like to learn more about negotiating contracts with mercenaries, basic combat operations, jump travel, or surviving an aircraft crash, please contact your manager who will arrange for the relevant training to be inserted into your schedule, workload permitting.

  This article created by Heliustech training division. This is not advice. Heliustech is not responsible for any injuries or damages occurring related to information included in this article.

  Chapter Nine

  Xander felt the dropship begin to shake as it struck the atmosphere. It rattled his bones, the craft shuddering more than he had expected. He had no idea if it was because of the ancient model of dropship that the Summer Breeze was, or if the atmosphere of the planet was just that thick. Xander couldn’t see it, the dropship had no windows, but he knew that the outside of the ship would be awash with fire, the forces generated by a flying metal box catching the air alight. It would stop in a few moments; dropships were made from specialised materials designed to deflect the heat.

  Xander readied himself inside the cockpit of his mechsuit, adjusting the thick puffy coat he was wearing. He would be dropping onto a place that knew only perpetual night, the warmth of the sun a mystery to it. Xander had spent some of the trip studying up on tidally locked worlds and he knew that Cyclops was a paradise compared to some others. It still had a weather system, though it was violent and erratic. The winds allowed the heat from the sunny side to dissipate a little on the colder, keeping the massive ocean from evaporating, and meaning that the climate on the night side was just barely within the operating parameters for a mechsuit.

  Even with the heating in his cabin, it would be cold. Survivable, but incredibly uncomfortable. Along with his coat, Xander was wearing woollen long-johns and three pairs of heavy socks. Beneath the coat was a fleece jacket, whilst below that was a shirt made of synthetic fibres. Putting it on had brought back memories of his wilderness training as a child. Rather than family holidays Xander had spent his summers dumped in remote regions and expected to find his way back to his parents.

  “I estimate half an hour until we reached the drop location. Mechsuit sealing is complete, this unit has been closed off to the environment,” Matthias said. His speech was formal and stiff like he was reading from a script. “I'm rather glad that I don't have a flesh and blood body. This worrying about temperatures nonsense seems rather annoying.” The AI had shifted back to his more casual tone, though casual was relative. Matthias reminded Xander of a manservant his parents had employed once.

  “It’s not all bad. There’s a certain temperature range that feels quite nice. And it varies per person anyway, some people like the hot, some people like the cold.” Xander adjusted himself in his seat. The cabin within mechsuits was a tight space. It was dominated by a chair that Xander strapped himself into. Whilst the suit was being operated, Xander would be eerily motionless, his mind busy working controlling the machine. Below the seat was a storage locker, one that had been filled with ration packs that didn’t require cooking. To his left was an assault rifle, the weapon clipped to the wall. Overhead was another storage locker, this one filled with camping equipment. Xander had protested at bringing it, but the rest of the company had insisted. It was pointless, if Xander got separated from his mech, then it was all over. A few minutes of exposure to the outside would kill him, tent or not.

  “How you doing back there, hon?” Candice said, her voice slinking through the radio. The woman’s Hestian accent gave her voice the sensation of being glazed in honey. “Hope the trip down isn’t too bumpy for you?”

  “All good in here.” That was a lie, the flight was a lot shakier than Xander was used to. Still, it wasn’t his place to complain. The first thing the Paladins had asked their new pilot to do was thread the needle through what they were hoping was a blind spot in the bases detection and then streak across the ice flows just a few metres from the ground to try and evade radar sweeps. She would need to fly a perfect line straight down despite the forces of re-entry fighting her each way, then pull up at the last possible moment. They had certainly thrown their newest recruit in at the deep end. It felt appropriate considering the circumstances of the company’s founding.

  “Glad to hear it. This isn't the easiest flight plan I've ever been given, but like my old pappy used to say, if the horse doesn't buck it isn't worth breaking.”

  “Right.” Xander had no idea what she was on about.

  “So, I've heard Mikal thinks that there are four likely locations for this base.” The voice was Meg's. Despite Xander's insistence that it was him going on this mission alone, when he had arrived in the bay ready to load his gear onto the dropship Meg's mechsuit was already clamped into place. Whilst he hadn't known her for more than a few months, Xander had learned that you didn't argue with Meg on certain things. The woman had a stubborn streak a mile wide. “I'm inclined to think he's right. He's probably the one with the most experience hiding things out of any of us.”

  “I agree with Megara,” Matthias said. “The pirate’s information is based on sound logic.”

  “Which of these should we hit first?” Xander said. He had his ideas about the order to search the sites but was eager to get Meg's opinion.

  “If we split up, we could do two each, get them done quickly.”

  “Hard no on that. I didn't want you to be here, to begin with, but now you are splitting us up doesn't seem smart. The environment is our worst enemy here, so having someone nearby if it goes wrong could make all the difference.” There was an unspoken understanding that something certainly would go wrong. It always did.

  “Fine, in which case I think we should hit the northernmost target first. It’s closer to the next target than any of the others, so we might get lucky with the first two. That would be nice. Unlikely, but nice.”

  “Seems like a good idea. Fine. Candice, can you bring us in towards the northernmost target?” Xander said.

  “Sure thing, Sugar. With the mountain nearby I can get you down at maybe a hundred and fifty kilometres. Maybe closer, but that should be a safe distance.”

  “A hundred and fifty should be fine. We can’t risk the dropship,” Xander said. It wasn’t a significant journey, not for mechsuits. It would take two to three hours depending on the terrain to cross that distance. A reasonable price to pay for the safety of the dropship. They would need it to bring in the rest of the riders, once the base had been found.

  “Don’t worry. Your lot have given me and the Summer Breeze another chance. I don’t plan on losing her now.”

  “Ok, time to get ready then.” Xander reached up with his left hand and gripped the connector that linked his wetware to the mechsuit. He pulled, the cable unspooling from above. He pressed it into the metal arch above his eye, the pins slotting in with a click he could physically feel.

  His vision went black as the connection hijacked his nervous system. Xander remembered his first time connecting to a mechsuit. It had been terrifying, this feeling of reality unspooling. It was like being dead, your body and mind disconnected from one another. His vision returned a moment later, images fed from the cameras mounted in the head unit of the suit.

  Xander turned what was now his head, the simple metal box twisting about as he examined the inside of the dropship. He flexed his arms, mechanical fingers wiggling as he tested them. Everything was working as it should be. Across from him, Xander could see Meg doing the same.

  Her mechsuit was smaller than Xander’s Defender. A Striker model light mechsuit, it was a fast-moving nimble machine designed for scouting or engaging infantry units. It wasn’t a good match for opposing mechsuits, not that it had stopped Meg from taking them down when she needed to. The woman’s skill with her mechsuit had been enough to even the odds. Xander had to admit Meg coming along would be useful, her jump jets gave her the advantage on difficult terrain, and she had more experience at forward operations than he did.
>
  “All good?” Meg said. Her words were transmitted by radio, the audio playing directly in Xander's mind. She reached up and above her an automated arm responded, lowering a weapon clamped in its pincer. Meg grabbed the weapon, a short-nosed rapid-fire cannon designed to spray rounds at a frightening speed, and the arm released it, retracting back into the roof of the dropship.

  Xander did the same, his weapon a long heavier duty autocannon. It looked almost like an assault rifle inflated in size to fit a mechsuit. Meg’s similarly had the appearance of an oversized submachine gun. The truth was the weapons were neither. Xander’s weapon was much closer to the main battle cannon of a tank, one designed to the mechsuit’s humanoid form.

  “All good. What the hell is that thing?” Xander pointed to a small box affixed to the shoulder of Meg’s mech. It was tiny in comparison to the machine, so Xander knew it wasn’t a weapon.

  “Oh, that’s a camera. Tamara asked me to have it fitted so she can get some on the ground footage.”

  “Is the footage from our head cameras not good enough?”

  “Apparently, it's because an over the shoulder view is more cinematic.” Meg was still running through her checks as she spoke. She opened the panels on the left leg of her suit, checking the spare magazines within were secure. “I don't know about that, but it's no skin off my nose, so why not?”

  “I wonder why she didn’t ask me?” Xander was doing the same as Meg, checking the items hidden behind his leg panels. Happy the spare ammo was safely stored he swapped to the right leg, pulling free the knife hidden within. He turned the blade in his hand, checking everything looked in working order. Whilst it looked like a simple combat knife, albeit one sized for a mechsuit, within the grip was a complex system that generated an energy field around the blade, allowing it to cut through even the thickest armour.

  “Would you have let her fit it?”

  “No.”

  “Well, there you go. That’s why she didn’t ask you. Tamara isn’t stupid,” Meg said. Happy with her checks she stood stationary, her weapon clutched in her arms.

  “No, she is not. Candice, how long until target?”

  “Twenty minutes maybe, not long now. Nearly time to face the music.”

  ***

  With a flare of its engines, the dropship came to a sudden halt, killing its momentum by tilting backwards. The jets glowed white-hot as the powerful thrust slowed the craft. It was a sudden stop, a sharp jerking that would mean a few sore necks later. It was necessary, the dropship needed to come in as fast as it could to avoid detection. Below it, the ice began to melt, the glacier threatened by a heat it hadn't experienced in billions of years.

  The sides of the dropship were open, the metal shutters rolling up to reveal the mechsuits inside. Most models featured doors at the bottom, literally dropping the mechs like payloads, but the unique six suit design of the Chariot meant that the mechs stepped out from inside it. The clamps that held the two suits within in place had rotated around, turning them to face outwards.

  Both machines leapt out, landing on the ice below with a loud thud. The surface didn’t crack, didn’t shatter, an eternity allowing the ice to build to a thickness that rivalled the tallest skyscrapers. The mechs stepped away from their landing spot, puddles splashing at their feet as they cleared the area. Around their feet thick chains had been wrapped, additional grip on the slick surface of the planet.

  The aircraft swung around, pivoting its engines to turn it on the spot. With a shriek it rocketed off the way it came, following its course back up to the Sunchaser above, the starship sat just at the peak of the theoretical blind spot. Everything had gone perfectly so far.

  So, it was only logical things immediately went wrong.

  Chapter Ten

  The walk across the glacier was harder than Xander had expected, he knew that the slipperiness of ice was down to a thin sheen of melted water spread across the surface so that thankfully wasn't an issue, but that same constant cold was causing problems elsewhere. Fuel lines threatened to freeze, and joints were struggling with icy build-ups within them. The Defender he was riding was rated to operate at the temperature around it but operate and operate well had two very different meanings. Xander was regretting his insistence to go himself as he shivered in his seat. Even with all his layers and the heaters within the mech, it wasn't comfortable.

  “How are you holding up?” Meg said. Her suit was faring worse than Xander’s lagging behind as they trod across the ice. Her lighter suit meant less insulation to seal in the warmth. To compensate Meg had been periodically sealing the heat vents at the rear of her suit. Normally shutting the vents for too long would result in the neutrite reactor within shutting down automatically to prevent a catastrophic failure, but Meg had been relying on the cold environment to provide the extra cooling. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the sign of a good mercenary, adapting on the fly to make the best of a situation.

  “Oh, you know, been better. I’ll try and get the next job to take place on a beach.” Xander kept plodding onwards, his mech responding to his thoughts step by thunderous step.

  “The last job was on a beach. You really want to do one of those amphibious landings again?”

  “I was thinking more lurid shirts and drinks with tiny umbrellas in them.”

  “The Iron Belt is hardly resort central. Maybe if you ask really nicely when we see them, we can get Black Rose to spread their influence a little. Maybe out to Dionysus or Liber? I hear those are nice planets.” Even over the radio, Meg's wicked grin was obvious, her smile shaping the tone of her words.

  “I’ll be sure to ask,” Xander said. In the left corner of his vision was a small map, one that showed the theorised locations of the Black Rose base. They had been moving in a straight line towards the northern point for nearly two hours. There was still some way to go, Xander and Meg had been making worse time than predicted, but that was down to the cold.

  As Xander felt the hairs on his skin standing on end from the chill, he made a mental note to consider the situation a little better when making plans. Whilst the Paladins as a company was technically an equally owned operation, the others had thrust him into the role of leader. It wasn't an unexpected choice, Xander had spent all his life being groomed to take a command role in one of known space's biggest and most prestigious mercenary companies. In theory, he had the skills needed to lead. In reality, it was Xander's brother Abe who was supposed to be the shining star, Xander had just been along for the ride during the constant lessons and tutoring.

  “We might be able to get a good look at the first site from the ridge up ahead. It would cut a good thirty minutes off our travel time if we can.” Meg was talking about a small cluster of rocks poking up from the edge of the glacier.

  Cyclops had not always been a tidally locked planet. Like most of its kind, it had been a slow process, the planet's spin slowing over millions of years until it eventually reached its current state. In that time mountains would have sprung up, pushed outward from the crust by tectonic activity that no longer happened and buried beneath the growing sheets of ice.

  “Maybe. It depends on what the landscape is like. The maps the guild provided weren’t the most up to date, and whilst it’s likely they’re still accurate, we’ve got to assume they might not be,” Xander said.

  “The maps are accurate. I’ve been comparing the landscape visible through the suit’s cameras with a three-dimensional extrapolation I’ve completed using the information provided. Everything has lined up perfectly so far,” Matthias said. The AI hadn’t been asked to do this. For a system designed to be subservient to a rider, he was remarkably self-sufficient.

  “Ok,” Xander said, first mentally switching off his outgoing radio transmissions. “Good to know. I suppose making any changes to the environment might draw unwanted eyes to you.”

  “Agreed. And whilst I’m no expert I’m assuming chipping away at a world locked in ice is rather difficult.” Matthias had the same smug tone eve
ryone did when they stated they weren’t an expert. When someone prefaced their statement with that, in Xander’s experience they were convinced they were correct regardless. It was a kind of brag, an assertion that level of expertise was irrelevant because the speaker considered themselves intelligent enough to skip that requirement.

  Xander enabled his transmitter again. “Meg, think you can up the pace at all?”

  “Maybe, why eager to finish?”

  “Basically. I’m assuming once we get into the daylight our suit operation will improve. I’d rather not get drawn into a fight where my joints ice up if I stand still.” Xander lifted his weapon into his vision, a thought occurring to him. It was covered in a thin sheen of ice, one that Xander had no doubt would cause issues if he tried to fire. “Check your weapon.”

  “Ah shit,” Meg did as she examined the rapid-fire cannon in her right hand. “We better hope there’s no fighting at all then. We’re fucked otherwise.”

  ***

  Sergei stirred his mug, the brown liquid within swirling with his spoon. There wasn't much for him to do. All the paperwork for Candice's employment was done, the most recent expense forms were complete, and the guild contract had been duplicated and filed away within the records system of the Sunchaser. All that was left on his to-do list was reworking the profit and loss spreadsheet, and that felt like tomorrow's problem. Of course, it had been that way for the last week, the task constantly shifting forward into the future.

 

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