Edge of Solace (A Star Too Far)

by Casey Calouette

  Mud exploded around Yamaguchi. He steadied himself and delivered another group of rounds. His leg burned as the lance sunk itself into the joint just below his knee. He screamed and fell backwards.

  The lance dropped out. The second group of shells impacted the Sa’Ami soldier on the neck joint. Nanites flowed to the armor fissure. Blood hissed. The armor was repairing itself but the man was dead.

  Yamaguchi scrambled into cover next to a storefront. The armor administered painkillers and soothing agents the moment he was hit. He looked down and saw a smooth edged hole with the nanite lining exposed.

  “LT! You okay?” Bale called. The sound of firing and explosions echoed from behind.

  “On my way,” Yamaguchi replied, as he stood and loped through cover towards the Sergeant.

  Red icons grew and blinked out. They were acquired and lost by the watching drones. One would blink in, followed by a hunter drone engaging before blinking out. Sometimes the hunter drone was caught, sometimes it became the prey.

  “Bale, spread out.”

  “Negative, LT, we’ve got a good position, they’re pushing in hard.”

  “They’ve got you clustered. Move!” Yamaguchi saw the icons glow together on the edge of a ridge. He glanced up through the low trimmed buildings. They had a good position, plenty of cover from below, but he was worried about above.

  The icons were moving. Scrambling. The ridge burned white. Damage indicators flared into red, followed by signal lost.

  Yamaguchi dove into cover and shattered through a thin wall into an open porch. The light flared around him before dimming and disappearing. It seemed darker outside when he crept out.

  “Everyone keep moving! They’ve got orbital strikes, c’mon!” Yamaguchi shouted. He glanced at the display. Most of the squad was gone. “Paco, it’s all you.”

  “Oh shit, oh shit,” Paco’s voice was hoarse.

  “Shut up. Move. Now.” Yamaguchi highlighted a point and pinged it to his squad. Three survivors. Anger rose, not at the men, but for himself. This was his job, and he was failing. He pushed the moment behind and kept moving.

  *

  William crept up next to a skinny Marine named Voss. His ribs burned and ached. Each breath a reminder that he was shot not long ago.

  Voss was tucked in tight against the edge of a building. He scanned the ground before him. “Heya, LT,” he said without pausing his scan.

  William looked up and out over the city. Lights flared and flashed in the clouds. Dogfights came to rapid conclusions. “Anything?”

  “Negative.” Voss’s voice was smooth, mellow.

  William nodded. He heard brief chatter from the soldiers down below and didn’t envy them.

  He mourned, just for a moment, those who were on the Malta. There’d be time for that later.

  A wicked white light slammed against the top of a ridge a few kilometers away. The two men turned their heads to where the ridge was only a scarred lump of smoldering yellow dirt.

  “Hate to be on that hill,” Voss mumbled.

  They watched the scene below as fire rained down from the clouds. The ground erupted at the base of the ridge. Explosions and gunshots erupted throughout the city. Church bells rang incessantly.

  “Movement,” Voss said. He slid the rifle slowly up to his cheek. The greenish glow of the scope reflected off his eye. “Strider.”

  William slid his rifle up and checked the stocky action. The caseless slab of ammo was fed tight. “Contact, hold until they’re in the sticks.”

  He knew it was only a matter of time until one of the Sa’Ami drones picked up the thermal signature of the additive cell. The Sergeant running the cell kept telling him the same thing. Almost done.

  The road before them dropped down and was surrounded by small buildings and drab storage facilities. A wall of baked clay bricks marked the edge of the free fire zone. A set of simple sticks marked the boundaries of the killing zone.

  The Sa’Ami strider leapt over the low wall and hugged the side. It scraped against the brick as it scanned the area away from William and his group. A second strider dropped down and skittered sideways.

  “Hold,” William whispered. Yamaguchi told them they came in threes; they needed to see the controller.

  Voss slid his weapon a fraction of an inch and clicked his tongue. “Got ‘em.”

  A smaller form crept around the edge of the building and took up position where the first strider came down. The Sa’Ami soldier knocked over the stick as he passed into the killzone.

  “Fire,” William ordered.

  Almost before William could pull the trigger, the striders surged forward and took cover. The soldier leapt and scrambled on all fours to reach a low hummock of dirt. Rounds impacted and sprayed gouts of yellow clay.

  The left most strider tilted its oblong head up slightly. Rounds raked along the edge of the helmet shearing against the armor. Sparks exploded upwards but the damage was only superficial.

  “Yamaguchi, we’re engaged.” William squeezed off a burst at one of the striders. The Sa’Ami creature huddled tight and didn’t move an inch.

  “On your own,” Yamaguchi replied quickly. Mechanical sounds and firing weapons almost drowned out his voice.

  The first strider popped up again. The speed was breathtaking. It moved with an animal grace that was quicker than any beast. Shots impacted against the armor, but they hardly slowed it.

  “Focus on the left!” Reed called out.

  William tracked his weapon. His finger slid against the crisp edge of the trigger. He focused and released his breath.

  A clattering shape descended upon Voss with mechanical intensity. The Marine screamed and rolled. A razor drone.

  William jammed the muzzle of the weapon against the body of the drone and fired a single round. The body disintegrated and rolled down the hill.

  Voss grabbed his weapon and squeezed another burst off.

  “You okay?” William asked quickly.

  The Marine didn’t reply. His weapon went silent. A pool of blood spread below Voss’s neck.

  “Watch for drones!” William called. “Mcrager! How long?”

  “Soon!” Mcrager called back.

  The first strider moved up and took the blast of a nanite round squarely in the center of the head. The strider tumbled sideways and thrashed about.

  William turned his aim to the soldier but the Sa’Ami wasn’t in sight. Rounds sounded from behind him as others in the group continued to fire. Where? He scanned and looked.

  The difference between trained ground troops and naval personnel became painfully obvious. They knew how to shoot, and how to take cover, but they lacked the skill to work as a cohesive unit. The Marines were too few to organize and coordinate the fire.

  The Sa’Ami soldier was gaining ground.

  William caught a glimpse of something moving towards his left and right. It took him a second to realize that he had a strider on one side and the Sa’Ami soldier on the other. He could taste metal in his mouth and felt the adrenaline pump.

  Senses tuned. Every movement and shift was painfully tense. He expected to be shot, or ripped apart at any moment. He had seen the intense violence a strider was capable of on Redmond.

  In a flash the soldier was on him. The suit pounced from cover and slammed down next to William. The comms went wild as the entire group called out in unison.

  William rolled and felt the ground shudder next to him. Oh shit, was all he could think. He looked up and saw the dull colored suit stained with mud. A tuft of grass stuck out from the shoulder armor.

  It had a weapon in one hand that was firing uphill while the other arm bore a fist clenched tightly. The face was hidden behind a mask of alloy and plastic.

  The fist went up and slammed down towards William. His body didn’t even have a chance to tense when the blow struck him. The fist rose up once more for another strike.

  The blow was staggering. His shoulder popped oddly and his back was wrenched. The wound
on his ribs felt like it was being torn open.

  William tried to do something. His weapon was tossed to the side and out of reach. Rounds ricocheted off the armor of his attacker. The fist hovered, or seemed to, in the heightening of the adrenaline.

  The head of the Sa’Ami turned slightly, as if questioning William. The fist paused and drooped down. The soldier tumbled on top of William.

  Black smoke poured out from the back armor of the soldier. The remaining strider broke sideways and disappeared into the low buildings from where it came.

  William lifted himself up and saw a band of olive skinned men sprinting towards him. Each clutched a weapon to his chest. Thick black beards bounced as they ran and cheered.

  The Maronite militia was like an arriving carnival. They immediately took cover and began pointing and gesturing. William was propped up and a cigarette was tucked into his mouth.

  “Thanks,” William said through the acrid smoke of the filterless cigarette.

  One of the men stood with his hands on his hips. Thick chest hair sprouted from his shirt. His eyebrows were so thick they nearly tangled his eyelashes. “Ahh, it is good that the militia came to save you, eh?”

  The whole thing seemed rather surreal to William. The group had zero military discipline. Luck must have been on their side.

  “Indeed, now help me up.”

  William limped the militia up into a tighter position. He turned and glanced at Voss before creeping into position.

  “Cover, LT! Heavies coming in,” Yamaguchi sounded on the comms.

  “Drop your cocks and grab your socks. Mcrager is coming!” Mcrager hollered into the comms.

  William spun and looked up the low hill.

  The additive cell was mostly hidden in the piney growth around it. The Maronites stopped and looked at William. “Get out of the road,” he wheezed.

  The great mechanical spider sprung forth from the trees. The limbs sprawled outwards and forwards as the creature scrambled ahead. Instead of standing tall it was low to the ground, no more than a meter. On its back several pods of weapons and sensors scanned. It moved with a speed so rapid that it looked comical for its size.

  “Holy shit,” a Maronite said as the creature leaped past with limbs on the roof above.

  “Follow that thing!” the man with bushy eyebrows ordered.

  William, his task done, looked to the carnival group tumbling down the road. He wasn’t about to let them seize the day. “Let’s move!”

  The remaining crew of the Malta came into formation.

  “Where you need us, LT?” William called to Yamaguchi.

  “Elevator,” Yamaguchi replied. The roar of gunfire in the background was deafening.

  “Huron, Bass, you’re on point. Let’s move!” William ordered. The group moved away from the additive cell and towards the heaviest fighting. He stripped the nanite patch off his chest and laid another on.

  Behind them white light struck the additive cell. They stopped and took cover as debris rained down.

  Bass turned and looked to William. “Elevator is the only place they won’t use orbital strikes.”

  William nodded. The Marine was right, but a static target was easy to overwhelm.

  The last of the debris clanked on the metal roofs.

  “Hit it!” William yelled. He only hoped they wouldn’t be too late.

  The wound on his side had sealed back up. His fingers traced on the coagulated edge. The pain dulled away like a shadow from a bright candle. He picked up his pace and jogged as quickly as he could. If it weren’t for the nanite patch he’d have laid in the ditch and cried.

  Mcrager’s spider-mech bounded through the buildings and streets. It was heading directly for the elevator complex.

  *

  Yamaguchi crouched inside the edge of the building. His drones were nearly destroyed, but according to his recon birds, so were the enemies. He called down the last of the strike drones on a Sa’Ami cluster nearly an hour before.

  He keyed up a recon drone and scanned the area around him. The hostiles were keeping away, just barely. He knew there was one of his hunter drones hidden nearby. Though he had a feeling it was hiding from a Sa’Ami drone.

  The orbital strikes came down so quickly after the first that the soldiers had to take cover near the elevator. Yamaguchi hated to lose the mobility but they couldn’t engage with the strikes coming from above.

  “Where are those heavies?” Yamaguchi asked.

  “Moving from the east, LT,” Paco replied. His voice was hushed.

  “What’s your status, Paco?”

  “Legs are locked up tight.”

  Yamaguchi sighed and took stock of his forces. Damned meager.

  The clouds dropped further down into a sheet of mist. The wind wanted to blow, but couldn’t quite get up the energy. An occasional drift of rain would bring enough moisture to stain the mud bright yellow.

  He shifted the display and pinged orders to his remaining troops. The bright blue icon showed Mcrager rushing towards them, but the pace was still slow. The order was sent and he shifted himself into position.

  Yamaguchi snapped his rifle up and knocked a drone from the top of a building. A shower of debris peppered the tin roof below. He kept his bead on the edge of the roof—he’d learned the drones liked to travel in packs, too.

  The icons shifted on his display. The live image flickered. Data streams changed. The drones struggled to keep a cohesive view. He watched as the count approached that perilous point where he’d lose his live view.

  Yamaguchi sprinted across a gap and waited in the shadow of a cargo container. Dim red icons winked in on the edges of his perimeter. They moved relentlessly towards him.

  “Whoa, they’re big,” Sergeant Craig said.

  “Clear, clear, draw ‘em in, hit ‘em with what you can. Full load.” Yamaguchi adjusted the rifle. Each slug would have a tighter formed tip with a larger charge behind it. It would hit harder and power deeper, but would consume the slabs three times as fast.

  “Full load?” Hoffman asked.

  “If we don’t hold ‘em now, it won’t matter.”

  The side of the container shuddered. Fluid sprayed out in a wide sheet of golden brown. Shrapnel stuck through the side. The smell of apples was so intense the air filters kicked on.

  Yamaguchi leaned around a corner and saw a pair of the heavies moving in. One was coated in fibrous yellow mud. Behind was a pair of men in power armor with three striders flanking. Two of the striders limped awkwardly.

  “Get me counts! I’ve got two heavies here, two walkers, and three striders,” Yamaguchi called.

  His remaining troops sounded off. Another six heavies all converging on the entrance to the complex.

  “Mcrager, this would be a good time to hurry.”

  “Engaged, LT, moving as I can.” Mcrager replied back.

  Yamaguchi snapped his eye up to the display and saw that Mcrager’s icon was barely moving.

  The heavies were slower than a standard strider but packed anti-infantry and anti-armor weaponry. Each arm was a rotary cannon. One shoulder held a mass driver while the other was a rapid turret to engage drones or incoming ordnance.

  Yamaguchi snuck another glance. He’d never seen them before, only heard stories and watched feeds. The doctrine was to move and use mobility—however, if he moved too much the ships in orbit would pound his position.

  “Shoot and dodge. One burst and get out, pick another spot.” Yamaguchi set the drones to full aggressive. “Drones are going red, get ready.”

  The drone icons moved closer. They would now hunt and engage without regard to their own safety. One shot was now worth becoming killed. The drones wouldn’t last another hour.

  He turned his weapon around the corner and squeezed off the first burst. A smile grew involuntarily as the shock and recoil of the weapon surprised him. Big guns were something he enjoyed.

  The first of the rounds impacted the mud speckled heavy while the rest disappeared
behind.

  It raised the rotary cannon slightly. The burst of fire was like a blowtorch. High intensity slugs stitched the container. Blasts of steam rose. The air stunk of burnt apples. It stopped and scanned about.

  Yamaguchi was already gone. He shifted ten meters behind a pile of scented yellow lumber.

  The heavy that had fired was in a holding position while the other moved up. The Sa’Ami soldiers tucked up against a brick wall.

  Fire opened from the opposite side and one of the Sa’Ami soldiers buckled. Rifle blasts boomed, but there was no echo off of the low clouds. Yamaguchi squeezed another burst as the heavies turned.

  The shrinking platoon of UC soldiers gave ground slowly, but the Sa’Ami heavies were nearly unstoppable. At each shift they sent rounds at the heavy striders. The heavies took no damage that Yamaguchi could see.

  The display winked once, twice, and reverted to a satellite map taken a few days before. All of the icons on his screen were haloed by dim blinking question marks.

  “Everyone get to the complex!” Yamaguchi called over the comms. He sprinted across an opening. His lower back tightened with fear. He had no eyes in the sky and no weapons capable of stopping the heavies. The last of his hunter drones had been destroyed.

  The sky grew brighter but it was just the rain emptying down. The mud washed off the tops of the power armor but each of the suits looked to be wearing yellow trousers. Yamaguchi never thought he’d die looking so damn ridiculous.

  “LT!” Hoffman called. The Sergeant crouched behind a pillar with a ragged scar of metal running across his chest. “Not bad, eh?”

  Yamaguchi shook his armored head. “Not bad, suits just took some breaking in.”

  The two were silent as they both knew what Hoffman meant.

  “Movement,” a voice called out.

  Yamaguchi lifted his rifle and scanned behind him. The corridor was wide and open all the way to the elevator ribbon. A set of rails ran along the floor. He wished for something, anything that they could use to defend the area with.

  Gunfire snapped him out of his thoughts.

  The heavies advanced slowly, but at a steady pace. Gunfire poured out from the complex down onto them but they would, at the most, halt and hunker down. Mud sprayed from beneath the heavy feet.