Starkindler (MechaVerse Series Book 1)

by Jeremy Cunkle

  “Mikkhael, two drones accompanying this patrol are airborne, and the Stalker’s are searching farther ahead than ever before. Also, the escort drones are divided equally between threat mitigation and force multiplier types. The Commander of OP Redemption is acting with an adaptability rarely seen at his level of military service, making it urgent we eliminate the threat they pose before they discover a way of effectively fighting back.” Aurora chimed in over the cockpits speakers after finishing her threat assessment.

  For a reply, Mikkhael grunted loudly, unwilling to switch focus from the impending battle. They had already held this same discussion several times in the last week, knowing that the enemy Commander’s urge to eliminate the threat that kept decimating his patrols served their purpose, draining the O.P. of limited resources. They were intentionally reducing the overall number of units under the outpost’s command, and were quickly reaching the predetermined threshold that they could finally strike head on and attack the OP directly. The faster they destroyed the PDF’s combat capability the better, having to force the issue before their High Command noticed the significantly increased level of attrition in their quadrant and moved in reinforcements that would make it impossible to fight and win a decisive battle that would end in their favor.

  The trick was to lower the overall enemy numbers enough that he could attack without requiring any support from the StormCrows, but not so low that the enemy Commander would swallow his pride and call for reinforcements. The almost certain threat of the Commander being demoted for losing so many men and units so quickly while failing to destroy his enemy was all their simple plan had to go on; hopefully, the fallible nature of pride would be enough to tip the balance in their favor. Aurora believed the destruction of this last patrol would place them in that sweet spot within that threshold. For his part, Mikkhael was anxious to get the entire thing over with. Taking so many lives in combination with the near-constant state of battle all while operating on a foreign planet away from his friends and everything he had ever known was weighing heavily on him. His sanity required that he finish this phase of operations as rapidly as possible.

  Finally, the HUD displayed a notification stating that the first patrol member entered within maximum lethal distance. The rifle was the second of three he’d brought with him from Earth, the first one being obliterated during the engagement with the Reaper; a modular supplemental weapon attached via hard points along Starkindler’s right arm, left arm wrapped around the rifles stock, tripod deployed underneath the barrel, steadying his aim.

  Seconds ticked by, each an eternity of its own. He needed to continue waiting a guestimated seven minutes until the patrol closed within half a mile of his position before he engaged, a dangerous but necessary tactical decision. The sheer size of the combat patrol necessitated extreme caution, leaving him no room for mistakes. By waiting to engage until he could see the figurative whites of their eyes, if any of the PDF turned to flee, he would have several miles of leash available to eliminate them without needing to discard the rifle and pursue. It was mandatory that there were no survivors during the encounter.

  He stretched slowly, working muscles cramped from remaining in nearly the same position for three hours now as Aurora populated the HUD with rolling data sets. Wind, temperature, humidity of the slowly terraforming atmosphere, line of sight indicating clear lines of fire, as well as other variables all scrolled below the hazy figures pictured trodding slowly towards him on the HUD. Above each target, identifying symbols for the type of Mech armor or drone, shield levels if present, weapon readout, IFR and radio signal usage, and most importantly, each unit’s predicted path and speed of travel were displayed. Once combat began, a tactical overlay would take over, reducing all of the supplemental information and only showing what was absolutely critical.

  A secondary monitor displayed a panned-out, top down view from one of Aurora’s compromised satellites showing no other additional forces within five square miles. While waiting, she hacked into the patrol’s communication relays, electronically isolating them from the rest of the world. She would keep them from calling for help once the battle started. Starkindler was to remain a deadly phantom for as long as possible, seen only on the broadcasts of them destroying PDF forces, whereabouts unknown.

  Mikkhael shifted back into final position, the cockpit chair automatically adapting to match his posture. He looked down-scope, scanning for a primary target, deciding on a kill order for the rest of the patrol, never assuming anything other than the best case outcome. His series of previous victories made him cocky. “Aurora, you have control over flight and defensive measures. Preparing to engage.” With six successful combat operations now under their belt, little else needed to be said.

  He pulled the HMD down over his eyes, slowing his breathing, pushing aside the fear and doubt. He told himself the numbers would not matter and continued to repeat the simple mantra silently to himself. Mentally, he performed his kill order twice. He finished the routine as the last Strident passed within the optimal lethal range of the sub cannons. Aurora illuminated their first target for a few milliseconds with an undetectable, low-power infrared targeting laser attached to the sniper rifle, updating the targeting information in the HMD. Tiny servos imperceptibly made micro adjustments to the sniper rifles aim as the return ping warbled with target acquisition.

  A timer appeared on the HUD, automatically counting down starting at five seconds. He exhaled deeply and then held his breath. His finger wrapped around the trigger, squeezing gently when the timer reached zero. The rail gun kicked hard as the slug of pure kinetic energy raced towards its target at the rear of the column, invisible to the human eye. A shockwave blasted outwards as the slug impacted against the Strident fully in its upper right chest section, collapsing the energy shields, blowing off the head, arm, and upper third of the heavy Mech armor’s torso.

  Aurora acquired the next target, a Slayer towards the middle of the column. She adjusted the aim of the rifle with him, a warbling tone signaling target acquisition. Energy borrowed from the electro-magnets in the left arm cannon halved the rifles reload time allowing him to fire again before the enemy pilots reacted in earnest to being attacked. The second shot was a high explosive round, fired at two-thirds power barely a second behind the first. The shot struck the Slayer at hip level, blowing its legs out from underneath it, leaving the torso unbalanced to fall heavily into the thick dust.

  He switched hand positions, slipping his wrists into the sleeves that controlled Starkindler‘s standard weaponry. He swung the right arm a nearly imperceptible four degrees, just enough for the barrel of the elongated sniper rifle to be out of the line of fire; triggering the plasma cannon, obliterating a Stalker less than 300 yards away. The projectile cannon on Starkindler’s left arm followed suit, firing a kinetic slug, destroying a Slayer in the middle of the column.

  With the entire horizon from one end to the other lighting up with a sordid combination of death and return fire, he gripped the sniper rifle with the left arm of Starkindler and began spraying the PDF column with continuous volleys of sub cannon fire from the right arm. Intermixed with the sub cannon shells were high explosive grenades lobbed from a launcher housed underneath the right wrist, attempting to pin down the remaining patrol members or at least prevent them from returning accurate fire while the main weapons recharged. Aurora aimed the sub cannons for him, peppering the length of the column with accurate barrages of chemically supercharged bullets each the size of his hand that chewed through their outdated armor with ease.

  The PDF units rocked backward, disoriented by the withering hail of fire that seemed to be everywhere at once. Vital seconds passed before their survival instincts kicked their lumbering units into action, the surviving patrol members individually breaking formation, moving for cover without any sense of cohesion. Drones, lacking the survival instincts of the piloted Mech armor and governed by programming moved into action at the first shot, attempting to both shield the piloted
units as well as sacrifice themselves in their place. Gunships looped in a circle to either side, joining up with each of the flanking Stalkers to serve as force multipliers for them.

  Anticipating the move, Aurora fired two dozen of the mini rockets, split equally between both airborne targets in rapid succession. Before the drones reached their destination, they were forced to defend themselves with their underpowered lasers, futilely attempting to intercept the rockets and knock them down, detonating in mid-air as the fusillade overwhelmed their feeble defenses.

  The remaining drones quickly accelerated into an attacking formation, algorithms commanding them to draw fire and thereby protect the rest of the patrol. Their anti-grav hovering abilities placed them at a speed advantage across the uneven terrain over their manned Mech kin. Aurora fired all six of the largest missiles available, extreme overkill for the designated targets, but every other weapon was already engaged against the main column. The missiles arced in wild patterns, avoiding defensive fire, intercepting the drones before they had time to defend the column. Each drone detonated fiercely under the paired missiles, showering the nearby Slayers they were meant to protect with their debris.

  The remaining eight Mech armor regained their footing. Having taken the time needed to appraise the situation and adjust accordingly, they reacted to the ambush with the veteran skill that got them selected for this particular mission. Signaling a battle tempo change, the remaining Slayer’s, mainstay of the PDF military, used their numbers to steal the initiative. Leapfrogging from cover to cover, they moved steadily, individually advancing under steady suppressive fire from the Strident’s towards their target.

  They fought well as an experienced unit, proving to be significantly more challenging then Mikkhael had previously encountered. The two remaining recon Stalker units continued their flanking maneuver, each accompanied by one of the two remaining drones, moving as rapidly as they could in the rough terrain, to close in on him from behind. Once they completed the maneuver, they switched to defense, keeping the column in the fight, working in tandem using their more capable sensors to knock down any missiles Aurora sent their way. The Stalker pilots alternated providing cover fire for the Stridents as they closed in on Starkindler.

  Without warning, their tactics changed. The Stridents and the pair of Stalkers fired a combined missile barrage, unleashing every last missile at once, while the Slayers switched to suppressing fire with their energy rifles. Once the barrage was away, the full column rushed forward.

  Missiles, rockets, and laser fire exploded around and against Starkindler. Mikkhael shook like a ragdoll, pinned to his seat by a dozen different straps. The kinetic absorbing gel of the seat could not account for the sheer amount of explosive forces rocking him as the world washed white with fire and chemical energy. Concussions rocked the giant Mech armor with their successive violence; more than a few of the smaller missiles made it past Aurora’s vigorous defenses, striking the energy shields and adding to the alerts now blaring within the cockpit. Mid-air explosions interfered with Mikkhael’s ability to target manually; he relied entirely on Aurora’s able multi-tasking capabilities as she helped him lock on targets while the very ground underneath him shook under the fury and force of the attack.

  Within the cockpit, alarms blared warnings about incoming missile fire, proximity warnings as the patrol advanced, warnings about being encircled and cut off from retreat. Still yet, bleeps, tones, and warbles of all kinds screamed in agony as Starkindler’s energy shields took both direct and indirect strikes. The shield levels dropped rapidly, and several of the incoming missiles that Aurora failed to destroy impacted against the outer layer of armor, forcing a section of reactive armor to activate in order to prevent possible significant damage from an incoming tank-killing missile. The energy absorbing foam burned away as laser strike after laser strike pummeled against the armor now that the energy shields were down.

  The HUD display projected enemy movements up to six seconds in advance of an enemy’s action. The system was not perfect, but probably saved Mikkhael’s life as the coordinated PDF fire disrupted his own. Forced to wait for his weapons to reload, he shut down all of the warnings, frustrated at waiting for his moment to strike as the sniper rifle slowly re-charged, some of the longest five seconds of his life.

  He kept the right arm of Starkindler away from the sniper rifle, plasma cannon preparing to fire, losing a considerable amount of shot stability for the decision. Warbling sounded in his ear as the sniper rifle announced a full charge. Just as Aurora predicted, a Strident passed between two boulders instead of moving around them. Mikkhael waited with the sniper rifle already trained on the spot between the boulders.

  Both pilots fired at the same time. Starkindler rocked backwards, pressing him heavily into the kinetic absorbing gel of the pilot’s seat as the depleted energy shields did little to mitigate a direct hit. Aurora’s voice droned in the background, warning that shield levels dropped critically low below 20%. Thankfully, the Strident was equipped with a laser rifle and not a projectile cannon. The foam coating on the armor did its job, absorbing the bolt of pure energy, transforming into sheets of ash that broke apart and fell away as the cell bindings critically overloaded. The energy shields held at a minimal level, but incoming enemy fire would pass straight through until they recharged. From here on out, he would need to rely on Starkindler’s armor to see him through a fight for the first time.

  Nearly forgotten in the chaos, his shot struck the Strident full on in the torso, collapsing its shields before detonating against the heavy armor. Shockwaves from the impact rippled outward, but somehow the Strident stayed upright, damaged, but otherwise mostly operable. The machine was forced to pause in midstride from the force of the blow as its systems reset. Mikkhael cursed in frustration as he fired the plasma cannon to finish off the wounded Mech armor instead of another enemy it had been intended for, saving the sniper rifle’s second weaker shot, instead allowing the electromagnetic rifle to charge to full power. Aurora targeted for him, the bolt of plasma struck in the same exact spot as the sniper rifle’s slug a second before; tearing through the Strident’s already weakened armor, detonating the Mech armor from the inside out as the core ignited. The Strident erupted in a massive explosion that reduced the pair of nearby boulders to dust from the destructive wash of force.

  The Slayer pilots, seeing half of their offensive force destroyed before their eyes, rushed forward as one using what they believed were overwhelming numbers. With his blood stirring and survival instincts kicking in hard, Mikkhael fired the second, now nearly fully powered shot from the rail gun before decoupling from the cumbersome weapon, freeing himself for the fight ahead. Standing Starkindler to its full, terrible height, Aurora and Mikkhael were left with no choice other than to trade punches and endure the onslaught. With the energy shields nearly depleted and the group of Slayers charging in a line, he used the only option available to him and the one thing they would not expect, he rushed to meet them head on.

  Quickly accelerating into a loping run, the two opposing groups of mechanical titans closed the gap between them with frightening violence. Stampeding footsteps kicked up whorls of dust as dozens of rockets fired by both sides ended in vicious explosions, choking the fading sunlight with smoke and debris. Chaos reigned in the free-for-all as bursts of laser fire temporarily pierced the growing maelstrom, adding their voice to the cacophony of horror.

  Amidst it all, sirens within the cockpit bleated in agony with every new strike while sensors failed to logically interpret bloodlust. Mikkhael found himself riding a sea of crashing red waves, desperately fighting to stay above the torrent that he knew would certainly swallow him whole should he lose his mental balance and fall. Trapped in the narrow darkness of blood infused rage with survival on the line and the odds against him, he committed fully to the battle. Surrounded on all sides by foes, he screamed in fury as Starkindler rocked under cascading waves of incoming attacks. With Aurora’s assistance they held
their ground, knocking as many of the incoming rockets down as they could with the point defense cannons while maintaining counter-fire.

  Then, he saw it; a flash amidst the maelstrom where imminent victory made his opponents cocky, their confidence causing the fire discipline on his flank to momentarily grow lax, a moment that he could seize. Believing that Aurora would understand, and without the time to explain, he swung the left arm cannon thirty four degrees to the gap in the enemy line. One of the pilots had gotten excited and exhausted all of his defensive munitions so rapidly that the reload system had to kick in, a long process where milliseconds made the difference in life and death. He squeezed the trigger without aiming, relying on Aurora to make the necessary adjustments, watching in slow motion as the frame of the Slayer buckled and transformed grotesquely before the torso critically overloaded and then exploded outwards. His right arm naturally trailed the left as it swung to the side, and the charged plasma cannon warbled with eager anticipation as it locked onto another Slayer approaching. He caressed the trigger, watching the arm recoil as the super-heated plasma struck now that the just eliminated supporting unit failed to stop the shot, eliminating another foe with a satisfying crunch that reverberated through the cockpit.