“Get ready. Something weird is coming,” Fluff said, barely audible over the yelling.
Four oblong drones rushed from the ruined doors, buzzing across the entry hall in a mad orbit. Sighting their targets, they whizzed across the room, only to be stopped in mid flight. Bobbing up and down, the drones tried to fight through the invisible force holding them at bay. They detonated, showering the floor with decimated parts strewn across a heavy black powder. There was a pulse in the powder, causing a heap of it to move toward the barricade.
“Fluff! Can you do that electro-hairball trick, again?” Lasher shouted.
“Do I ask you to binge and purge on command? No! I had one of those.”
Tarot laid beside the desk, aiming her gauntlet toward the creeping grit. A jet of blue flame burst from her arm, engulfing the powder in a twitching burning mass. In the wake of the decimated attack, her armor chimed. She hunkered behind the desk, working at something visible in her HUD.
“That dinging noise doesn't mean your arm is fully cooked, does it?” Fluff asked.
“No.”
“Okay. Good talk.”
Tarot ejected the fuel cell from her gauntlet, replacing it with another from her belt. “Morpheus just signaled, they've taken the first AI Commander.”
The static pop of someone trying to contact her through her helmet was extremely annoying. Mara closed one of her hands to hold up a single finger, a sign that she needed a minute. Trying not to move, she used the retinal tracking software in her helmet to bring the volume down.
“Sorry. Some sort of interference.”
“Quite all right, my dear. As you can see, we’ve expected interference,” Kenner said, gesturing to the thrall of combatants surrounding them. He led her to one of the rearmost buildings, ignoring the blues working to clear the dead from the streets. Injured personnel were given fresh nanite injections, healing them in a matter of moments. Opening the large blast doors, he gestured for her to look inside.
The criminal, Ms. Chen, was high above the main floor, at a command station. She was surrounded by four AIs working their digital magic upon some unseen planescape that only they had the consciousness to perceive. Mara could tell what they were from how they reacted to the Crucible. They were shadows, like a drawing on paper that had style but no true substance. Chen trained her gaze toward the marshal, expression flooded with scorn.
The warehouse was a maze of floors and racking, holding possibly thousands of ceramaclear coffins. Robots floated through the storage on repulsors, attending to the needs of those still interred.
“We have thousands currently serving in the Swarm. Impressive, no?” Kenner asked.
“Slavery is never impressive.” Mara said, her voice low and threatening.
“Not slavery, indentured service. We transported them over the Outer Boundary and away from the dreary lives they had in the Xang Republic among other such places. All we asked for was a brief stint in a work force. Lucky for most of the people here, that stint is almost over.”
“You’ll let them go, then?” Mara asked.
“Once this mission is complete. Yes.”
“Why are you showing me this? What's the mission?”
“All in good time.” Kenner gestured for her to follow. Mara remained frozen in place, searching through tracking screens in her lid for something tickling the back of her senses. She raised the face shield on her helmet, her eyes widening at what she saw. “Marshal Truveau, is there something the matter?”
They were there, in the Crucible as well as standing in glorious reality. Red robes over gray armor. Hoods drawn over their heads to obscure all but their mouths. Hanging from their necks were face masks with hoses leading to re-breathers. The blues didn't see them. Couldn't see them. Just off from her shoulder was Chief Inspector Esteban Castillo of the San Verone Monastery. He held up a finger to his lips, his shush audible to her, alone. He pointed back to Kenner. She didn’t think her eyes could get any bigger than they were now.
Standing behind and a full head taller than the criminal was a man in a tattered sand-colored cloak. His hood was also drawn, but his garb was open, displaying a scarred battle armor common to the Athalon. It was old armor, patched and lovingly cared for. The set had obviously seen combat for the better part of decades. Looking up from his hood, he wore the visored helmet of the marshals proper, stopping just above his mouth so that all could see it as a grim line of determination and woe. This was a true Force Commander. A marshal’s marshal.
Kenner noticed her expression. “My dear what are you...”
He turned straight into the crushing grip of Tyberian Hylaeus. “She’s looking at a petty warlord about to face judgment in the fires of the Crucible.”
Brother Castillo raised his hand, drawing in power through the Way, finally slamming his fist to the ground. A shock wave of force radiated from the impact point, knocking the blues over in all directions. As if seeing the monks for the first time, they scurried away. The captured lancers and marines knelt against the storm, rifles at the ready. When they stood, their eyes were clear, the horrifying sleepwalk having been wiped away.
“Am I supposed to be afraid, Force Commander?” Kenner croaked. He throttled the aged marshal, cracking the breastplate in a powerful stroke that robbed him the strength of his legs. “Take them.”
Immediate and sudden blaster fire transformed the gathering into a rainbow-hued tornado. Both blues and troopers in the dust were knocked down. The injured on both sides healed their wounds, infused with the same nanites that would push them back to their feet so they could rejoin the fight. The Vernai Gauntlet of monks tore through the enemy forces, using their deadly fighting arts powered by the Crucible to mow down the enemy. Blaster fire danced around them, redirected to other targets.
“Little help here!” Castillo called out from Commander Hylaeus’ side.
“Stop your fussing! It'll take more than a punch to finish me off,” Hylaeus barked to the monk.
Mara and Cas helped him to his feet, driving him behind cover to assess the man’s injuries.
“I just had that crack fixed,” Hylaeus said in exasperation.
“What just happened?” Cas asked.
“My guess is that Orin Lashra just found a way to slice their Swarm-tech,” Mara guessed. “Our marines are up and fighting the Swarmers with their own powers.”
Castillo waved his hand, calling to an oncoming group. Fighting through the enemy blues was a unit of enhanced marines leading waves of Elysian infantry. “I brought friends to help. No AI assets that can be corrupted. No puppet strings from the High Council.”
“How can you be sure?” Mara asked.
“They're the Mad Cats.”
The Para-jump Assault Regiments are units many in the Frontier have mixed feelings about. The world of Elysium having a rapidly deployable strike force made many on the colony planets nervous for no better reason than the largest government in the free worlds had an army big enough to field units of this type. Many of those fears were assuaged during the Cross Sabers Conflict when pirates from the world of Yogana Prime took advantage of the devastation from the Exodus Wars. Brutal raids against disaster relief and the worlds they sought to help were brought to a sudden stop when the first Para-jump Regiments hit the dirt to bring a heaping dose of blaster-based pirate repellent to the colonies. Years later in the wake of complex interdiction by Elysium, the Multi-Role Combined Arms Team was formed.
Dubbed the Mad Cats by the media, the MCAT is a combined force of infantry and combat support units trained to deploy at a moment’s notice in any terrain. Their distinct difference being that while most PARAs deploy via order from parliament, Three-PARA deploys under command of the Archer Committee, of which Central Command and the San Verone Monastery are members. Usually reserved for larger engagements, the Mad Cats were used to being consistently upstaged by the marshals and their pet lancer regiments. From the way they came pouring into the outpost, it seemed they were eager to get into a
fight.
Fire teams swept into the surrounding structures of the dome-city blocks like locusts, creating individual hives from which to launch attacks of their own. Pulse jammers set up by tech-specialists established disruption zones against the Swarm-tech. Lancers fielding CR-1141 Crab-Walkers brought two of them forward with jammers broadcasting from their backs.
Sergeant Guerreiro ran in leading a man wearing Mad Cat regimental combat armor.
“Force Commanders. This is Captain Luis Vernier, Alpha Company Commander.”
“Cute,” Mara said, acknowledging the lancer's use of the word commanders.
“Honored friends. I am deploying my troopers into the surrounding structures to push enemy combatants out. If you have marines or lancers infected by the Swarm-tech, keep them clear of the buildings and walkers. Sergeant Guerreiro has volunteered to combine them into a light strike force to meet the enemy head on. Another batch of blues just turned to our side and my civil affairs detachment is pulling them back to Objective Forest.”
“Good work, Captain,” Mara said. “Let's coordinate our efforts to seal off the dome to prevent any escape. Lieutenant Haro, if you've still got the chops, I want to put my hands around the neck of the man that just punched my boss.”
“Two ticks for me to collect my Vipers, ma'am. We got you, unless you feel more comfortable with the lancers or army watching your fourth point of contact.”
“Let's grab and go, L.T.” Directing her attention back to the command group, Mara tried to assess the look on both Hylaeus and Castillo's face. “What?”
“The role of Force Commander suits you,” Hylaeus said.
“Push off, sir. I hereby decree that all forces under my command now look to your esteemed wisdom for guidance.”
“Is that because of my gray hair?”
“No, sir. It's because you're old.” Collecting up her marines, the lioness stalked off to find her latest victim.
Thirty-One
Lasher's Gavoc sword broke apart into what appeared as a glowing kite tail, becoming a power field infused whip. He thrust the weapon toward one of the air vents, penetrating the metal to wrapping the Swarmer inside. Yanking back, the blue came free from the shaft into the path of a Crucible-powered strike with his Plasmaxe. The weapon nearly severed the man in two, depositing him on the floor in a smoking ruin.
“Show off!” Fluff called out over burst fire from his back-mounted cannons. He was in man-mode, using twin blaster pistols, firing his back mounted auto cannons, and smacking down anyone who got close with vibro-enhanced tendrils.
Kel executed a scissor leg take down on a blue, getting close enough to blow the man's face across the adjacent wall. Raising his pistol, he put two more rounds into the next Swarmer, using the first as cover. “These things are about to swamp us!”
Kat whirled over Kel, helping him back to his feet and throwing his meat shield into the broken elevator. She dumped an entire mag of pulse fire into the lift, temporarily stopping up the access point. “Not going to argue. Madame Tarot, options?”
Tarot watched two of the blues crawl across the ceiling, using their free hand to dump blaster fire at her. The first bolt to strike her met her shield, tearing it down in a single impact. The second struck her in the pauldron, spinning her slightly as she lost her grip on the M-721-X. She drew the pistol from its holster, putting a round into the head of the first crawler, dumping him to the floor. The second blue rocketed from its perch, slamming her onto her back. With her good arm, Tarot brought her grip into the man's neck, raising his head away from her. She didn't have to wait long for Fluff to bring around a tendril, severing the blue's head from the rest of his poor life choices.
“Our friends found something. We should fall back to position two and blow the entrance,” Tarot called out.
“On it,” Kel said, reaching for a detonator on his belt.
The crew ran back into the tunnels, Kel following on their heels. A quick click and the walls for the entrance hall blew inward, filling the room with debris. The explosion weakened the structural integrity for the rest of the room, causing the ceiling to cave in with tons of rock fully closing off the space.
They ran back to the main lab into the waiting stares of the Card Arkana. Merlin didn't spend time on the pleasantries. He merely pointed to a wall that had previously appeared solid, but now had a depressed door open onto a small four person lift.
“Why haven't they used this?” Kel asked.
Merlin raised his hand. Cocking his head to mimic his more human counterparts he said, “We have been systematically denying them access. They probably fear that if they tried to access this and we blew it, they would have to spend considerable resources to open it again.”
“What's the plan?” Kel asked.
“Morpheus and Chang'e have just subverted another commander. That makes two. They're down to half of their force,” Merlin said.
Savoya cleared her throat. When she saw she had the attention of the room, she said, “I've been monitoring the situation on the surface. Kenner tried to confront Truveau, but then the task force was reinforced by Castillo.”
“Cas. Who did he bring?” Lasher asked.
Savoya generated a still image from a security holo outside. The picture showed an infantry squad dumping critical amounts of firepower into the blues. “Looks like he brought the Elysian Mad Cats and three gauntlets of monks. They're currently working to push all of the still-infected blues back into the warehouses. Everyone's hunting Kenner and Chen but they can't find them.”
“Can they re-skin themselves like your bots?” Kel asked Tarot.
The former corporal gingerly interrupted before the Dreadmarr could answer. “The Mad Cats are using pulse wave emitters to push concentrated ion disruption in localized bursts. Electronic masking like a holo won't work near them. The cypher process won't either unless they can get to the lab. Even the Swarmers have to stay out of the fields or they risk becoming dormant while the tech adjusts. It does adapt, it just takes a few minutes, which is how the PARAs are rounding them up. It's not a magic bandage, though. One platoon didn't react fast enough and were almost a total loss when the blues came back online.”
“So the noose is tightening. Kat, can you still track them? Kat?”
“Sorry. I keep having these… I don't know… sensations that something's trying to reach out to me. Like someone waving across a room trying to get my attention.”
“Are you okay?” Kel asked.
“I think so. I'm running a system check just to be sure. Kel, Hold onto this for me.” she said, handing him the interface book.
Morpheus appeared in the room, nearly frightening Kel out of his armor. “I don't have much time. One of the AIs just tasked a company's worth of blues into something called Private Launch. I believe it to be a secondary hangar. The AI then locked them out of the system so we couldn't take command of them by subverting that particular general.”
“If Chen and her pal aren't going to come to us, we have to go to them,” Lasher said. “We can't let them make it out of here. If there's even a chance we take out both to end this, we have to take it.”
“Hey, Kel.”
“Yeah, Fluff.”
“Did you notice Orin's using, 'we' now?”
“I did, almost as if the talk we had earlier might have sunk in.” Kel snickered.
Fluff brushed up against Lasher, almost tripping him into the table. “Jeepers. Who'd a thunk it.”
“While you two compete for the title of Supreme Comedian, I'm going to shoot people who don't deserve it until I get to someone who does.”
“Wow, that's dark.” Fluff commented.
“Obsidian!” Kel agreed.
Lasher stepped into the small lift, waiting for Kat and Tarot to join him. “Next one's yours.”
The lift shot up at incredible speed, much faster than the first one they'd used. There were no intervening stops. The doors opened to a cavernous command center, flashing lights overhung control
stations devoid of any personnel. Two men were in the center of the room, cursing Trade-9 at each other in an animated fashion.
“Kat?” Lasher asked.
“They're confirming orders for when the other disappears.”
One of the men was dour-looking in a finely cut military uniform. It was an ancient thing, covered in ribbon clad medals on one side with braided shoulder boards on top. He grimaced against some pain, fading from sight like a shadow disappearing from the corner of one's eye. The remaining general began finger-wagging at the new group along with a fresh batch of Trade-9 delivered hot and fast.
The previous general reappeared, wearing an Elysian armor system over the proper fatigues. His long slicked hair was now replaced with a military's high and tight. His bearing had gone from a posture of “listen to me or else,” to “Listen to me because I know.”
“Chang'e sends her greetings and apologies that she could not liberate me from the criminals sooner so as to stop the deployment of the Swarm Defense Force. However, she sends you this gift, along with her regards.”
The holographic depiction bowed in time with two red blips leading a swarm of blue ones across new areas appearing on the map.
There was just enough time for Lasher to say thank you. He ran straight through the enemy general, not bothering to slow down on his rush toward the panoramic window above the hundreds of racks, each holding a life interrupted for no other reason than someone could. He cupped his hand, devoid of power, yet begging to be filled with the force of the Crucible. The power of the Way danced across the empty control room of flickering holos, dead screens, and a soon to be defeated general. Lasher closed his fist, holding the power at bay so it could be shaped to his will. A few scant steps from the window, he flicked his hand open.
The Revenant: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Hunter's Moon Book 2) Page 39
