The End of Liberty (War Eternal Book 2)

by M. R. Forbes

  They continued ahead, Mitchell slowing to match Perseus' top speed. There was no grace to their movements, no subtlety to their charge. They barreled through trees and over outcroppings of the planet's original barren and rocky terrain, using jump thrusters to speed them across rises and falls in the landscape. Mitchell kept his countermeasures disabled, hoping to attract the attention of any enemy forces in the area and to keep them away from the rebels and the Knight. He was the target, the diversion. He was a dangerous mouse.

  The attack came sooner than he expected, the drones appearing on his grid only moments before they launched incendiary missiles at his position. He tracked them on their way in, bringing the railgun up and taking careful aim before firing. The CAP-NN helped guide his shots, making the slight adjustments needed for wind and recoil, allowing him to hit the projectiles with a single slug each. The launcher drones were following close behind, and they fired a second salvo, emptying their bays and descending behind the bombs.

  "Perseus, this is Ares. I'm under fire. Continue on course, I'll catch up."

  Mitchell slowed his mech, keeping it steady as the assault approached. Slow. Steady. He aimed unhurriedly, firing a third round, and then a fourth. One of the missiles dropped out of the sky.

  The other exploded.

  It was an accident with mixed results. The force of the blast sent liquid fire everywhere. It splashed onto the drones, burning white-hot and making a mess of their machine guidance systems, throwing them off-course and sending them colliding into nearby trees. It came down as drops of hell around him, landing on the line and setting it to smolder.

  "Zed, can you read me?" Mitchell asked. "Zed, this is Ares, over."

  He watched his overlay while he moved into position to rejoin Perseus. The rebels were off his grid, and out of comm range. He was going to tell her to go around. They'd have to figure it out for themselves.

  "Ares, I'm tracking a new target, sir." Perseus' voice was calm. "No. Two. No. Six new targets." Still calm. "Airborne. They aren't registering as drones."

  "Break west, we'll cross over," Mitchell said.

  "No time, sir. Bogeys are fast. Really fast. Engaging."

  Echoing explosions and the fake light of laser fire filled his mechanized senses. The targets appeared on his grid seconds later, crossing by with unbelievable speed, salvos of rockets dropping from their bellies and angling down. The first group pummeled into Perseus, the Knight's anti-missile lasers unable to keep up with the sudden barrage. The pilot managed to get his mech sidelong in their crosshairs, and the right arm exploded outward in bits of metal and slag as it captured the brunt of the strike.

  Mitchell returned fire, watching the amoebic missiles skitter from his chest and up into the sky towards the onrushing enemies, intelligently avoiding the canopy on their way to the target. A squadron of Alliance Pirahnas streaked low over the trees, flying right into the barrage. The missiles detonated, tearing through three of the ships and bringing them down. The other two continued their run, opening fire with slugs that tore through the cover ahead of the Zombie.

  Mitchell cursed and dropped the Mech low, putting his arms over the mech's head and letting the bullets dig into the armor there. Then the fighters were past, shooting away and preparing to circle for another run.

  "Damage report," Mitchell said, checking his p-rat. It was still limited to surface wounds, but each round of fire would add more stress to the integrity of the structure. Sooner or later, the bullets would start getting through the armor and cutting into more delicate synthetic muscles and inner mechanics.

  "Right arm is gone. Right leg has some minor actuator damage. If it gets hit again we'll never reach Sonosome."

  "Keep moving. Don't slow. I'll keep you covered."

  The fighters were heading back. Mitchell checked his ordnance. Four rounds of amoebics remained. A little less than three thousand rounds in the railgun. They hadn't even gotten to the factory yet.

  He ran forward, getting deeper into the trees. The Pirahnas dropped again, firing a second round of missiles that darted towards his back. CAP-NN controlled anti-missile lasers swiveled and fired at them, hitting most but not all. A warhead collided into the heavy back armor and exploded, pushing his mech forward. His p-rat blinked orange, revealing the severity of the damage as he brought the Zombie up to its knees and fired a single thruster, the force pushing the mech in a tight turn. He raised the railgun and let loose, sending a thousand rounds into the sky like a swarm of angry wasps, bringing down branches and leaves in a rain of green fury around him.

  Mitchell wasn't done. He continued firing, sending another massive volley of fire skyward at the sweeping Pirahnas. One of them lost integrity, the projectiles clearing the shields and climbing up and through the cockpit. Smoke poured from it and it vanished into the woods. The other one passed over, possibly damaged, still flying. Mitchell pulled to his feet and started forward again.

  Two more drones appeared on his grid, coming hard from the north while the fighters circled west to east. The resistance was growing. The remaining Pirahna was circling back.

  Too many. There were too damn many. Mechs could take a beating, but they weren't meant to stand alone against fighters.

  Mitchell tracked the targets, feeling his stomach drop when the dots seemed to split apart and double in an instant. Eight bogeys incoming. They were angling to pass Perseus by, reorganizing to hit him with everything they had. He glanced at his ordnance report again. Eleven hundred forty rounds in the railgun, three salvos of amoebics, and about two thousand rounds in the chest cannon that was designed for ground fighting. He still had the lasers, but it would take multiple hits to drop a fast-moving enemy.

  The targets moved in, only partially visible through the trees. The four additions were another group of Piranhas, called in from where? Not York. After the Battle for Liberty, there hadn't been enough to stock more than a single squadron there. The starships in orbit above the planet? If they had Piranhas, the Tetron surely would have used them sooner.

  He found a large rise of sharp rock, hitting the thrusters and throwing the mech backward towards it. He crouched behind it, raising the railgun and tracking the two drones at the head of the assault. Incendiary missiles launched from beneath them, all four at once, rocketing his way on long contrails of smoke. Mitchell fought the urge to fire on them, letting them come. He was going to be bathed in the fire again, and he wasn't sure the mech would survive a second hit. His only chance was that his cover would deflect the hot gel and cast it over him. There was no choice. He needed to conserve his ammunition for the Piranhas.

  The missiles struck the rock, blowing chunks of it back into the mech's cameras, leaving him blinded by sediment and dust and flame. He turned off the visual, using secondary sensors and firing on the drones before they could crash themselves into him. His railgun chattered in the darkness. He fired his jump thrusters at the same time, pushing up and back, smashing against branches and bringing the woods down around him. Fire ate at the mech's shoulders, and the drones exploded below.

  He was ready to loose the remaining salvos of amoebics when one of the red dots turned blue. It fell away from the others and opened fire, guns and missiles tearing into the backs of the Piranhas. Mitchell switched his visual back on, surprised disbelief turning his sunken hopes into sudden elation.

  "Ares, this is Valkyrie. Targets destroyed."

  Major Long's identification registered in his implant as the remaining Piranha tipped its wing.

  53

  "Welcome back, Valkyrie. I can't tell you how glad I am to see you survived."

  "Not as glad as I am, Colonel. I'll regale you with my exaggerated tale of heroics once we're back aboard Goliath. In the meantime, I believe we've achieved temporary air superiority."

  The drones were like minnows to a Piranha.

  Mitchell brought his mech back to level ground. His p-rat was still screaming warnings, the shoulders of the Zombie doused in flames that were raising the
temperature and eating through to the actuators. He was too far from the river to try to cool himself off again. Major Long's miraculous appearance had taken him out of the frying pan. Now he literally was in the fire.

  "I don't want to nitpick, but you could have taken them out before they doused me."

  "My apologies, Ares. You only get one chance at a surprise attack."

  "Roger." He knew how true that was. At least he was still alive.

  He cycled through the CAP-NN's assessment of the damage, cursing under his breath when it told him what he already knew.

  The mech was done for.

  It could probably survive the heat of the fire. He couldn't. If he didn't evacuate the cockpit, he would end up trapped inside, cooking to death. Not a fitting end after all they had gone through to get this far.

  He dropped the mech to its knees and pulled his head from the link. He didn't open the cockpit. Not yet. He hadn't kept a rifle, not when the ground forces needed them so badly. He still had the pistol on his leg.

  "Perseus, this is Ares. The Zombie is scrap. Hold your position while we regroup. Valkyrie, do you have visual on the Sonosome factory to the south?"

  "Yes, sir. Looks active. Lots of motion on the ground."

  "Any transports laying around?"

  "I see two from here."

  "Perfect. We've got Zed and a bunch of rebels trailing behind us. The transports are the objective."

  "Hitching a ride to York?" Long asked.

  "That's the goal. It will be a lot easier with an escort."

  "Yes, sir. I'll head in for a closer look."

  The Piranha circled past and then rose higher in the air, breaking out of comm range. Mitchell moved to the back of the cockpit. He put his hand near it, feeling the heat radiating from it. He hit the release and crouched low. The heat grew more intense as the back of the mech began to open, and he rolled out from under it as soon as it was high enough. He fell to the ground, tucking and rolling before getting up and surveying the mech. The entire top end was on fire, the orange-blue spikes like a crown of flame around the ghoulish painted head of the Zombie. He walked over to the foot where he had written the names of the fallen. He had never added Long's name to the list. Had he somehow known the man was still alive?

  He closed his eyes for just a moment, trying to capture the subconscious connection to the past. Had he fought this battle before? Had he won or lost? Every memory, every emotion, every instinct was so nebulous. So hard to capture and define.

  He would just have to find out for himself.

  "Riiigg-ahh," he said, kissing his hand and slapping the foot. "Zed, this is Ares. Come in." He waited for a reply. The rebels weren't close enough yet. "Perseus, sitrep."

  "Holding position, sir. Everything is quiet."

  Mitchell started walking in the direction of the Knight. He heard the whine of the Piranha closing in seconds before Long's voice entered his p-rat.

  "Ares, it looks like the factory is operational. Sensors picked up increased power output. There are a lot of civilians there, sir. It appears the enemy brought a large number of them to assist with the plant."

  "It did. It's using resources here to build a bigger army. I'm sure Sonosome isn't the only plant on Liberty that it's got running."

  "I came by way of Delhi, sir. I passed over the Kefiri factory while I was hiding out. I saw some fighters on the ground there, but they weren't anything I've ever seen before, and they looked incomplete, or wrong. As though it thinks it knows how to make a starfighter, but doesn't quite."

  Mitchell raised an eyebrow at that. The Tetron had all of their history, thousands of years, and it couldn't make a starfighter? It was possible it didn't have access to the right resources, but after what had happened with Holly, it left him to wonder. The Tetron were supposed to be advanced artificial intelligence, and yet their minor failures seemed to be mounting. Was there something wrong with this one?

  Was there something wrong with all of them?

  "What about the transports?" Mitchell asked.

  "They appear to be operational. No visible damage at least."

  "You said you were hiding in the Piranha?"

  "Yes, sir," Long said with a laugh. "It's a long story, but after I ejected from the dropship, I managed to get to a spaceport. The place was razed and abandoned, except for a few fighters and a bunch of drones. I was planning to use it to get off the planet once Goliath came back. With my implant off, it never knew I was there. Then the fighters all took off, no pilots. I saw the forest burning, and I saw a crashed starship on top of a city." He laughed. "I figured you had something to do with it, and that if I restarted the p-rat and plugged into the captain, I'd get control." He laughed again. "I figured right."

  "And Borov?"

  Long's voice turned cold. "Killed by shrapnel before we evac'ed. Half the frigging pods didn't release either. I did everything I could."

  Mitchell would never know if that were true or not. He had to assume it was. "I'm sure you did. You saved our asses just now."

  "Major, is that you?" Zed's voice came in over the comm channel.

  "Zed. Yes, ma'am. It's good to hear your voice."

  "Yours too, Major."

  "Zed," Mitchell said. "We've got a clean approach to Sonosome, but my Zombie is out of the fight. Regroup at my position."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Valkyrie, head back to the factory and keep an eye on things. Watch out for incoming drones. If anything makes a move on those transports, take them out."

  "Roger." The Piranha made a tight pirouette in the sky and headed back towards the factory.

  Mitchell kept walking, his pounding heart beginning to slow into a more normal rhythm. For the first time since they had arrived, he felt like they might have a chance to set Liberty free.

  54

  "Ares, this is Valkyrie. We have a situation."

  "What is it?" Mitchell asked.

  Agri-factories were massive, in some ways like cities unto themselves. They employed thousands, and those thousands helped support thousands more who provided standard services to the workers and the off-planet visitors who did business there. Sonosome was no exception, with blocks of apartments lining the outer perimeter and storefronts dotting a main thoroughfare through it all.

  The rebel caravan was moving quickly through that thoroughfare, with Perseus' Knight at the front and Zed's Zombie in the rear. There was no motion from the surrounding landscape, and no indication that there had ever been any kind of alien incursion outside of the marks in the pavement caused by the outgoing machine army. The area was empty. Deserted. Forgotten.

  Mitchell knew it was because everyone with an implant had been gathered at the factory proper, and everyone else was most likely dead.

  "I'm getting action from the civilians at the factory. They're making a move on the transports."

  Civilians? "What kind of move?"

  "Not sure, Colonel. Hard to get a headcount, but I'd say there's about two thousand or so. They came out of the factory, and they're walking over to where the transports are parked. They look pretty calm, and here's the weird part: they're completely naked."

  He could understand calm, since they weren't in control of themselves. Why were they naked? "Valkyrie, we're still about five minutes out on the factory. You can't let those people get near those ships."

  "Roger. What do you suggest?"

  Mitchell paused, glancing over at Tio, who was riding on the trunk of the car with him. The warlord's expression was stony and thoughtful. He turned again to look at the back of Kathy's head. The girl was riding inside the car, her rifle pointing out the empty window.

  "Do whatever you have to do," he said, gritting his teeth. He knew what was coming next.

  "You want me to kill them, sir?"

  "They're the enemy, Major. Until we defeat the Tetron. No matter what they look like."

  "But, Colonel-"

  "Valkyrie, you either stop them from touching the transport or we get stran
ded here and everyone dies. Which do you prefer?"

  "That's easy for you to say. You aren't the one flying over them."

  Mitchell tried to stay level, but his voice raised to an exhausted shout. "You think it's easy, Major? To kill civilians? I'm sorry, but we don't have a choice. I'm giving you an order. At least it's on my conscience, not yours."

  The shouting drew the attention of the others in the car. Tio was still expressionless, but his eyes were heavy and sad when he looked over at him. Kathy reached back through the rear to put her hand on his and nod her approval though there were tears in her eyes.

  "These people are fighting for their loved ones, Valkyrie," Mitchell said. "We make the hard calls because they've earned the right. I don't give a shit if you do it for me, but you damned well better do it for them."

  The silent tension mounted while he waited for Major Long to respond. They were nearing the edge of the factory grounds, and Mitchell could see the rise of the heat sinks at the top of the main assembly building. He caught sight of the Piranha circling in the distance, coming back around towards the factory. It started dropping, swooping in low. Flame spit from the mounted guns, the noise of it echoing in the distance.

  "I hit the ground ahead of them. They aren't slowing. There are more coming out of the factory."

  "Firedog, Perseus, let's pick up the pace," Mitchell said.

  "Yes, sir."

  The lead car gained speed to match the Knight, rushing towards the building. The transports became visible on their left as they drew closer; large, flat blocks of poly-alloy with big repulsor sleds slung underneath. Ugly and functional. The mass of people came into view as they continued towards it. They were arranged in neat rows, walking in unison towards the transports. Not a single one of them was wearing a shred of clothing.

  "They've stopped moving at the front, Ares," Long said, the Piranha shooting by once more.