Resist the Red Battlenaut

by Robert T. Jeschonek

  Sure enough, after thirty seconds, the lights flickered back to full intensity, the armor stopped teetering, and the control holos reappeared in front of Scott. From what he could see, power levels were quickly climbing, and the weapons would be fully charged in thirty more seconds.

  "Frank?" said Scott. "Are you back online yet?"

  After a few more seconds, a slow, distorted voice slurred through the cockpit. "Yuuuuuhhh..." It quickly got faster and cleared up, becoming recognizable as the voice of Frank. "Yuhh-yes, Solomon. I am h-h-h-here."

  Scott frowned. Frank had never stuttered before. "All right then." There was no time to consider the implications, as the Red who'd fired the arrows was on the move. Scott saw him on the frontside feed, stalking toward him with energy cannons crackling. "Fire all weapons at the incoming Red. Maximum intensity!"

  There was a pause before Frank answered. "F-f-firing weapons, S-S-Solomon."

  Scott watched the frontside feed but saw no weapons fire from his Battlenaut's guns. "Ready when you are, Frank."

  "Cuh-cuh-continuing to f-f-f-fire." Frank's voice fluttered and shot higher on the last syllables. "D-d-directhitsonalltargets S-S-Solomon." His words accelerated and crushed together, sounding like a recording played back at high speed.

  Still, Scott saw no outgoing weapons fire on the frontside feed. "Are you sure about that, Frank?"

  This time, Frank spoke in his normal, even tone. "Absolutely, Solomon. The target has been heavily damaged."

  That wasn't what the feed was showing. Watching the video, Scott saw the Red stomping forward with no damage whatsoever. According to the holo readouts, however, Frank's statements were accurate. The readouts showed that all weapons had been fired, and the Red was losing power and venting smoke.

  Scott thought fast. Had the arrow strikes done something to Frank and the sensors? If so, how could Scott regain control over the situation? "Frank, are you all right?"

  "Never better, Solomon," Frank said calmly. "What about you?"

  The Red on the feed was getting closer, but what could Scott do if Frank wasn't following his orders? "I'm fine, thanks." Maybe reverse psychology would work. "Stop firing weapons and stand down, Frank. Cease fire immediately."

  There was a pause. "Done, Solomon."

  This time, Solomon's order had an impact...but not the one he'd wanted. Watching the feeds, he saw the view suddenly swing away from the Red and settle on a Diamondback Battlenaut. Then Frank opened fire, aiming at the Diamondback instead of the Red.

  Scott tried reverse psychology again. "Keep firing, Frank." But this time, it didn't work at all. Frank just kept pouring it on, hammering the Diamondback unit. "I need you to perform a complete systems shutdown, Frank." Scott didn't expect it to work, but he knew he had to try.

  "Shutting d-d-down, Solomon," said Frank, but nothing changed.

  Almost nothing. Seconds after Scott gave the order, green biofilm slime started pumping into the cockpit from the air vents.

  "Shutdown cuh-cuh-cuh-complete, Solomon-n-n-n," said Frank, his voice turning high-pitched again and emitting a freaking giggle.

  *****

  Chapter 30

  In a matter of moments, Scott would be dead. The fast-spreading biofilm would expand to fill the cockpit, locking him in place and choking the life out of him.

  The Red arrows must have injected a computer virus into his Battlenaut. Frank the A.I. had become corrupted and was trying to murder his own pilot.

  Scott had only one recourse. Reaching down, he slapped the red button installed on the right edge of his couch, the only manual override control in the whole Battlenaut.

  Instantly, he heard the magnetic clamps release with four simultaneous bangs. Then, an overhead hatch sprang open, and the cockpit leaped up out of the Battlenaut's body.

  It didn't fly far, though. The biofilm must have damaged its thrusters or guidance system or both, because the cockpit pod flipped over after emergence and dove into the sand thirty yards from Scott's Battlenaut.

  That left Scott upside-down in the ejected pod--but the biofilm had stopped pumping. At least he wasn't going to smother in a tin can filled with quick-drying green death-slime.

  Unbuckling his straps, Scott rolled his legs over and down, turning himself upright in the tight space. Then, bracing his back against the couch, he drew up his legs and unleashed a double kick at the cockpit cowling. When he saw it give a little, he hauled back his legs for another try.

  It took five kicks to break open the cowling. As sunlight and the noise of battle poured into the cockpit, Scott clambered out headfirst.

  Emerging into the heat and smoke and clamor, he quickly took a look around, assessing the scene. From what he could see, the Diamondbacks had taken some of the pressure off the Commonwealth Marines, but the protective ring was buckling. Though the Reds were no longer invisible to everyone on the battlefield, they were still dominant thanks to their greater numbers.

  As for Scott, he was completely unarmed and unprotected in the midst of heavily armed Battlenauts, and his own armor was coming after him. It was a deadly gauntlet, a seemingly unsurvivable situation--but Scott was highly motivated and had been through nightmare scenarios before. Taking advantage of his smaller size and greater agility, plus the fact that most of the Battlenauts would be shooting at each other instead of him, he might just have a shot at eluding Frank and reaching Bern. But he would have to be fast and alert, at the absolute top of his game.

  When a flicker of motion caught his eye, he whipped around to see his Battlenaut charging toward him, bristling with weapons. In case there was any doubt about Frank's intentions, the Battlenaut cranked off a series of rounds in Scott's direction, chewing up the cockpit pod and kicking up tufts of sand.

  Propelled by a burst of adrenaline, Scott spun and ran like lightning toward the ring of Commonwealth Battlenauts at the heart of the fight. He might just have a better chance of survival there--and a chance of finding Bern.

  Slugs from Frank's guns poured past Scott as he charged across the sand. Agility was his biggest advantage over the less maneuverable metal-clad giant, and he made the most of it. Running in a serpentine pattern, he nimbly dodged laser beams and sonic blasts as Frank kept up the onslaught.

  As Scott darted between Red Battlenauts, the wisdom of his chosen route was obvious. Like a mouse among giants, he was able to scamper between the feet of the towering Reds to avoid Frank, who couldn't fit through the same gaps. As Frank kept firing his weapons, he hit the Reds instead of Scott, who zipped right out of range.

  Tagged by Frank's stray shots, the Reds spun and turned their guns on him, stopping him in his tracks. That gave Scott a chance to bolt toward the inner circle of the Commonwealth's defenses.

  Unfortunately, when Scott ran into the open ground between the Reds and the Commonwealth forces, he found himself in range of other guns. Friendly fire pelted the sand around him, laid down by Commonwealth Battlenauts shooting at the Reds. Scott had to weave more erratically than ever to avoid it--and then a missile hit and exploded ten meters away, knocking him off his feet.

  His ears were ringing as he rolled over on his side and looked up, squinting at a Commonwealth Battlenaut with the blazing sun behind its head. The Battlenaut kept its missile launcher pointed in his direction and its optics trained on him, no doubt assessing his threat level. Scott wondered if this was how he would die, without armor, at the hands of friendly forces.

  Suddenly, a blast of golden energy struck the Commonwealth Battlenaut in the chest, and it swung its missile launcher around to point in a different direction. Scott saw his chance and took it, scrambling to his feet and sprinting away.

  Explosions erupted behind him as he ran hard for the inner circle. He was aiming for a gap in the line when the ground shuddered under his feet, and one of the Commonwealth defenders crashed down in front of him. Scott barely missed getting pinned under it and dashed in a new direction, running along the fallen giant's smoldering length.

 
Just as he was about to loop around its feet, Scott felt the heat of a laser beam searing past. Looking back as he threw himself behind the fallen Battlenaut's leg, he saw his rampaging Diamondback armor storming toward him, firing lasers and sonics.

  Frank's voice boomed over the armor's P.A. system. "Solomon! It is safe to return. The damage to my circuitry has been repaired." Even as he said it, Frank unleashed a flurry of laser fire and slugs. "Come back, Solomon. We will defeat the Reds together."

  Scott wasn't about to let himself get pinned down. Leaping up, he bolted away from the fallen Battlenaut and continued heading for the inner circle.

  Slugs pounded the sand behind him, just missing his running feet. Lasers flashed past to the right and left, filling the air with the smell of cooked ozone.

  Scott kept serpentining, but with all the fire he was drawing from Frank, he was surprised he hadn't been hit yet. Maybe the same malfunction that had turned Frank rogue had affected his targeting systems.

  "You need help, Solomon," said Frank. "I am dispatching my drone pods to assist you."

  Scott reached deep and found the strength to run faster. Drone pods could do some serious damage to an armor-plated Battlenaut; Scott hated to think what they could do to his unprotected human body.

  "Here they come, Solomon," said Frank. "You won't have to wait long now."

  Glancing back over his shoulder, Scott saw a cluster of drone pods hurtling toward him like a swarm of angry bees. Turning his gaze forward again, he continued his life-or-death charge toward the inner circle--though he really hadn't thought through what he'd do when he got there. The pods could weave between the Commonwealth Battlenauts with ease and follow him through, so he wasn't exactly heading for a safe haven. He'd just have to hope an opportunity for survival would present itself.

  Arms and legs pumping, Scott raced between two Commonwealth defenders and into the inner circle they'd been protecting. Before he could take a look around, though, one of the pods slammed into his back, pitching him facedown on the sand.

  As soon as he hit, another pod clipped his right shoulder, and a third punched his left calf hard enough to send a bolt of sheer agony flashing through his body.

  As the fourth blow cracked against his tailbone, he knew he wouldn't be able to take much more. Without some kind of intervention, the black spheres would go on pounding him until his bones and guts liquefied inside his skin.

  Another blow clocked his neck and the back of his skull, making him see stars. Forcing his head up, he searched for some kind of weapon--any piece of debris he could use to fend off the pods. But there was nothing in arm's reach.

  Just then, he took two more hits in rapid sequence--one to his left side, the other to his right hip. The flare of pain that followed was so strong, he clenched his jaws and shut his eyes against it. When he opened them again, he saw the feet of a Battlenaut running toward him.

  Looking up, he saw that the feet belonged to a Commonwealth model with green armor. He didn't get to see much more, though; the Battlenaut reached him in a heartbeat and swung its hand toward him, forcing him to duck.

  Scott felt a rush of wind as the Battlenaut's hand swept over him. He heard a clashing, clattering noise, like a pile of scrap metal being dumped from a truck...and right away, he knew what it had to be.

  Sure enough, when he lifted his head and looked back over his shoulder, the drone pods were gone. The Battlenaut had batted them away from him.

  Whoever was at the controls of that unit, he was a hell of a pilot. A lesser Battlenaut jockey might not have been able to knock the pods away without hitting Scott...but this one had left him without a scratch.

  Pushing himself to his knees, Scott stared up at the towering green Battlenaut, wondering who was in the cockpit. For a long moment, the Battlenaut stared back at him, giving no clue to its operator's identity...and then, it did.

  A woman's voice called out over the unit's P.A. "Hello, Solly!" It was a voice that Scott recognized instantly, a nickname used by only one person.

  "Bern!" He should have known. No one was a better Battlenaut pilot than his grandma. "Thank God you're all right!"

  "I got your messages," Bern said from inside the armor. "I called and left one for you, too."

  "I brought the Diamondbacks, Grandma," shouted Scott. "They're going to get you out of here."

  "I hope they're armored, at least." Bern laughed loudly. "Unlike you. What happened to your Battlenaut, Solly?"

  "Damn thing went rogue, Grandma." Scott shrugged. "That's where those drone pods came from."

  "Your own armor turned on you?" Bern laughed again. "You do realize you'll never live that down, don't you?"

  "I won't tell if you won't, Grandma."

  Her reply was drowned out by the roar of enormous engines approaching from above. As Scott looked skyward, a massive shadow fell over the inner circle--the shadow of a giant spacecraft sliding into place to block out the sun.

  The belly of the ship was red from stem to stern. A circular hatch irised open in the middle, and a cylindrical beam of glittering white energy shot downward.

  It shot down into the heart of the inner circle and enveloped Bern's Battlenaut. Instantly, the armor left the ground, slowly rising within the beam as if it were riding an elevator.

  They were taking her. She was right there in front of him, and the Reds were talking her.

  "Bern!" Adrenaline surged through Scott, and he bolted toward the beam. Just as he was about to enter it, Bern's Battlenaut suddenly accelerated, shooting upward like a guided missile.

  Scott never took his eyes off her as he ran into the beam. He rose slowly at first, as Bern had done, and steeled himself for the sudden acceleration he expected at any second.

  Meanwhile, far above him, Bern's green Battlenaut passed through the circular hatch into the ship. As soon as the armor disappeared from view, the beam of glittering white energy switched off.

  By then, Scott was about ten meters off the ground. When the beam cut off, he dropped like a stone, landing on his back on the hot sand.

  He lay there a moment, helpless, glaring up at the Red leviathan. As the hatch on its belly irised shut, he knew there was nothing he could do to rescue his grandmother. They had her; it was that simple.

  Scott was hundreds of meters below, without armor or a ship of his own. He didn't even have a comm device to call for help. He'd be lucky if he made it through the battle without getting stepped on, let alone saving the Commandant of the Commonwealth Marines single-handedly.

  The ship's engines roared, and it slid away, exposing the battlefield to the blazing sun once more. Scott squinted against the influx of light, then raised a hand to shade his eyes.

  It was up to the Sun Tzu now. Surely, the crew had spotted the Red ship on sensors, even if it seemed to phase in and out. Maybe, they'd even seen it snatch Bern's Battlenaut or had picked up a distress signal she'd sent. Rexis wouldn't hesitate to charge to the Commandant's rescue...if she could.

  If the Sun Tzu didn't already have its hands full. If the Reds hadn't already blown it to bits, which Scott wouldn't even know about since he didn't have a radio.

  If the Sun Tzu wasn't able to pursue, what then? How could Scott ever find Bern in the vastness of space? How could he stop the Reds from using her for whatever malevolent plans they had in mind?

  He had no idea.

  Closing his eyes, he let the sounds of raging battle wash over him. It was almost peaceful. Something exploded nearby, and he didn't even jump.

  The battle, like Bern's fate, was out of his control. He could no nothing to change either one.

  At least for now.

  *****

  Chapter 31

  Less than an hour later, the battle was over. The Commonwealth had won--if losing the Marine Corps Commandant to the Reds could be called "winning." Scott survived, though Frank had made another run at him in missile mode and been barely deflected by Trane and Khalil.

  Two hours later, Scott was evacuated fr
om the surface of Oberon aboard one of the drop ships. When the drop ship's gangway opened inside the landing bay of the Sun Tzu, he looked out--and found himself face to face with a line of rifles pointed in his direction.

  The guns weren't aiming at him, though. When Scott walked down the gangway, the Diamondbacks holding them parted to let him through. They were much more interested in the cluster of twelve shackled Red prisoners debarking behind him.

  The Diamondbacks and Commonwealth Marines had rounded them up after winning the battle. The Red leaders had left them behind in their rush to get away with Bern.

  As Scott watched the Diamondbacks lead the prisoners off the drop ship at gunpoint, he wanted to beat the truth out of them. He wanted to do anything in his power to make them tell him where Bern had been taken.

  Instead, he stood by as they shuffled past him with eyes glazed over and jaws set. He glared at them, sending each a silent message crackling with the raw power of his hatred: Talk to you soon.

  As the last prisoner moved past, Scott heard Perseid's voice nearby. "Corporal Scott!"

  A bolt of pain shot through Scott's back and neck as he turned toward Perseid. Frank's drone pods had really given him a pounding. "Sir?"

  "Get to the medicenter." Perseid pointed at the nearest exit. "Do it now."

  "I'm fine." Scott forced himself not to wince at the latest jolt of pain as he pointed at the Red prisoners. "What about them? When do we start interrogations?"

  Perseid ignored the question. "Your own armor went rogue and nearly killed you. I'd say that's reason enough to stop by the medicenter, wouldn't you?"

  Scott sighed. "Speaking of my armor, have you found it yet?"

  "No." Perseid shook his head. "Our last sensor contact was fifty klicks from the battlefield...then nothing. Maybe it went underground or self-destructed. Who knows?"