Starkindler (MechaVerse Series Book 1)

by Jeremy Cunkle

  The Commander suggested a mine due for the arrival of a freighter soon, targeting double the amount of materials Mikkhael and Aurora initially planned for. Not only would the collective Rebel factions steal all of the PDF military supplies the freighter brought from Earth, but they would also seize all of the outgoing ingots the miners gathered. Adding insult to injury was the fact that the PDF were paying for every step of the operation, as well as providing the heavy lifting via one of their precious freighters on top of their supply chain. If they pulled off the operation, there was no telling how many heads would roll back at Central Command.

  In their favor was the system itself. A series of remotely located industrial mines began operating during the last few years in order to feed Earth’s insatiable requirements for raw minerals. They were built to supplant the mines that rebelled. The need to resupply Earths minerals had not lessened in any way. In fact, demand only continued to increase, pressing the Martian Industries government to resolve the supply issue as rapidly as possible. As with any such rapid government expansion, the small details were often taken care of only after they became problems, leaving room for corruption and exploitation.

  With the best locations already taken, many of the new mines were incredibly remote, leaving the mass freighters as the only effective means of collecting the mined ore. One location especially suited their criteria, and after Aurora and Drogdyn thoroughly researched the remote mining city of Abadon, they designated their choice as the target. The location was hundreds of miles away from the nearest domed city, meaning that numerous locally built smelters processed the mined ore on site, an increasingly common solution for the remote outposts. To cut down on waste materials and maximize efficiency, the smelted ore was shaped into ingots. Processed ingots were then stored in warehouses until deliveries aboard a freighter could be arranged, but these particular veins were fantastically rich and the warehouses filled quickly. The extra ingots were left to sit outside next to the warehouses until the mass freighter arrived.

  Due to the copious amount of ingots Abadon produced, mass freighters were being called for pick up twice a year, and sometimes even three. The increasing frequency necessitated a landing strip as the freighters took weeks to load the sheer amount of material. Eventually, a small habitat dome to encompass the mine’s ever-increasing workforce population was built; Mars Industries was loath to send the miners permanently underground anymore lest the newly created mines joined the growing rebellion. The landing strip could be used as a backup for drones operating from a small military outpost less than a hundred miles away, but there was no dedicated military force on station outside of a local police. No Rebel faction had ever raided that far out beyond their base and the PDF were becoming increasingly focused on hot spots, leaving areas that had been quiet for years undermanned.

  The StormCrows were counting on the fact that leading up to the raid, it would not be suspicious if within the mines dome they staged a large buildup of anti-grav trains to serve as transports for the materials arriving from Earth, along with the associated personnel to load the trains. Transporting the materials from the mass freighter through legitimate means would serve as the cover they needed to cross the hundreds of miles between their outposts and the mine in order to rob the PDF blind of billions of credits. On top of that, Aurora’s bulk orders for tens of billions more credits’ worth of military equipment and armaments imported directly from Earth occurred without a hitch; and the PDF would never look twice.

  Aurora set everything in motion months before, originally scheduling the mass freighters arrival at the Phoebe space dock before Mikkhael left Earth. They had simply moved up the timetable. She used the intervening time to hack additional UN computers in order to begin placing orders within the PDF supply network that would appear legitimate, simply modifying the freighters new destination to Abadon. As plans moved forward, Mikkhael continued to add cargo to the manifest list. The quantities involved meant that at a minimum, weeks were needed to ensure their delivery on time. The Rebels would only get one opportunity, and he was determined to ensure they received as much material as possible; especially the exotic kinds required by Starkindler that could only be provided by his friends back on Earth.

  This meant buying up everything available; the Rebels did not have time to sit on waiting lists. While this necessitated that some desirable items would not be procured, the quantity of materials that were available made up for anything missing. Couched within the PDF’s procurement channels, the acquisition and delivery of so much war material was simply seen as yet one more mass freighter being sent from Earth in order to resupply the PDF during their almost continuous civil war for the last ten years.

  The Mass Gate System between Mars and Earth was the most used of the few systems built; and required over sixteen hours for the largest reactors humankind had ever constructed to build up and store enough energy to open the gates enough to push through a mass freighter. The freighters schedules were dictated by the gates, meaning the freighters had to be scheduled months in advance, and that was where the bulk of the vetting process occurred.

  Two weeks passed quickly while Thorsten caught up on repairs, and then Aurora notified him that everything was ready to go. In a few hours’ time, Mikkhael would lead the Mount Olympus forces.

  Their wait was almost over.

  * * * * *

  Time passed quickly, like it always did when there was too much to do and too few to do what needed done. Starkindler was relegated to providing overwatch for two teams, each consisting of ten MARS units onboard anti-grav trains. Rebel sympathizers within the Martian-controlled civilian domes contacted via Commander Ultor’s backchannels arranged for the unmanned trains to meet other Rebel forces in an obscure location far out on the Tharsis Plain. The unmanned trains were the only permanent link between the main cities and the far-flung mining communities that dotted the harsh landscape. The trains made for the perfect way to travel the hundreds of miles necessary without being detected as the Rebels had never utilized them in such a way, and the PDF would not be looking closely at the trains having no reason to suspect them and not enough resources to inspect everyone crisscrossing the sparsely inhabited planet.

  The MARS units finished loading without difficulty, and then the pair of unmanned trains, each consisting of nearly two hundred individual cars, scuttled off towards their destinations, unstrained and un-cowed by the imminence of barely controlled death waiting to be released from within their holds. Starkindler trailed off to the side, passing invisibly across the craggy plain with all of its systems cloaked, unable to fit inside a cargo hold and not needing the disguise like the other Mech armor. Even with the help of the trains, the trip to Abadon would take the strike force over thirty-eight hours to reach. They settled in for the long trip.

  The MARS unit pilots took turns standing by and sleeping in their cockpits. A full company of nearly one hundred additional men and women from the Security Division stood among the MARS units, filling half of a dozen train cars. They took turns keeping watch, ready to provide additional manpower wherever was needed, equally prepared for battle or their mission of loading all of the materials onto the trains. Dressed in mine laborers’ clothes, they would be able to pass unnoticed in the civilian population upon their arrival.

  Fifteen minutes prior to arriving at the outpost, trains approached from opposite directions. Each were similarly filled with members from the Lazarus and WinterSong Factions, as well as sympathizers from the domed cities and non-aligned rebels who spent their life hiding among the citizenry working as undercover spies. Once the trains arrived at the mine, they assumed pre-designated positions around the small domed outpost, comfortable in their role of infiltrating a loyal population. They would serve as additional eyes on the ground, monitoring the civilians and small police force inside the dome, unaware of Aurora’s presence via Starkindler or her intelligence gathering capabilities. Instead, they would rely on their wits and instructions given befo
rehand as similar actions throughout history had always done, relaying developments to the other factions only if a worst-case scenario developed.

  If a threat to the operation presented itself, the non-aligned rebels would delay any unwanted presence while simultaneously drawing attention away from the main force waiting in the trains. Cells operated independently, assigned duties of setting off various alarms and in general doing everything possible to tie up the local police. Still more non-aligned cells stood by, ready to respond with force if needed should an alarm be raised. Their orders were to remain unnoticed first, serving as a screen for the operation about to take place second, and third, if all hell broke loose they would buy their kin enough time to escape, before finally melting away themselves. Trained in guerilla warfare, tactics, subterfuge, and espionage, they were a potent force within a civilian population center.

  Mikkhael was the only person fully aware of what was about to occur, everyone else involved in the operation knew dramatically less, operating on a compartmentalized need-to-know basis. The supporting rebels only knew that they had been assigned tasks to fulfill, and would be rewarded for their effort. Their loyalty would be repaid by the success of the mission and Mikkhael would ensure that everyone involved returned to their home.

  Upon their arrival at Abadon, he remained outside the habitat dome, ready to respond but otherwise left with the unfamiliar role of watching others perform the main tasks while he stood by, because passing through an air lock while still cloaked was a feat that not even the superior technology of Starkindler could overcome. He would instead serve as the tactical commander for the operation, providing an accurate bird’s eye view for the cells operating inside the dome, utilizing Aurora’s hacked satellites and the internal surveillance methods of the PDF against them. Nothing that approached within hundreds of miles would escape their attention, and if an outside threat was detected, he would be the first to move to intercept.

  “All-clear,” a voice buzzed on his com system.

  “Roger, this is Vulcan, all cells clear, commence operation.” Mikkhael broadcasted on the wide frequency.

  He watched in awe as the mass freighter blotted out the sun and both moons as its massive berth settled heavily on the landing strip outside of the dome. The ground shook as the landing thrusters roared with immeasurable power, straining against the weight of its full cargo holds. The ground rippled with small tremors as the freighter touched down and then settled into place as if the planet itself struggled to accommodate the new weight, voicing its indignant frustration at the sudden onslaught. Immediately, hundreds of men and women moved into action, attaching a half dozen temporary airlocks into place between the dome and the galactic transport dwarfing the runway and the habitat dome before hustling between them and the waiting freighter with an eagerness never shown by the ordinary work force.

  A week prior to the operation, Aurora hired off the regular crews using a dummy shell corporation to have them work at the warehouses outside of the dome. She bribed the local officials to look the other way, leaving as few eyes as possible to see anything they should not as they carried out one of the largest heists in the history of mankind.

  The trains were arranged with impeccable military precision to accommodate the hundreds of freight haulers in motion, hauling well-padded and sealed crates of all sizes, obscure markings’ delineating which faction was to receive what goods. Empty cargo hatches were soon filled to the brim with an unimaginable wealth of weapons and various war materials. Within the waiting trains, the pilots anxiously waited behind still sealed doors until such a time as they were called upon, the commanders of the operation hoped would never come.

  Electricity cracked in the air as stern faced men and women unloaded and organized the cargo according to the markings with barely suppressed grins on every face and a skip in their step not seen since their faint childhood memories of Christmas. Several hours passed in this manner as the trains filled, formed into convoys with unmanned work trucks called mules that would follow in their wake, and then headed out into their respective directions. Hundreds more unmanned work trucks were parked near the warehouses, and they were being filled with less critical smelted ingots by the domes workforce, all of which quickly filled to capacity. Once full, the trucks would scatter to a dozen different obscure destinations where they would wait with their transponders off until such a time as they could be recovered later.

  Within Starkindler, even Mikkhael caught the infectious smile as hours passed uneventfully and they exceeded all timeline projections for completion. The entire operation had been a wild success, and best of all, the PDF remained entirely unaware that they had just paid for and provided the means through which multiple new divisions of MARS units could now be built, outfitted, and repaired. Best of all for him though, Starkindler now had enough of the exotic materials it needed to continue operating at the highest operational intensity. Mikkhael’s heart panged at the thought of his friends back on Earth and how much he missed the only family he had left; the weight of his absence from them and how it weighed on him was not a problem he could so easily solve as long as his sense of duty to exact revenge remained unanswered.

  It was better that his friends remained safe on Earth, supporting him from there. His guilt at leaving them did not remain long, overpowered by the euphoria of complete success. Fifty hours later, the StormCrows returned to Mount Olympus aboard the anti-grav trains, tired and triumphant. Not a single casualty had been sustained and not one bullet fired.

  * * * * *

  Sir Henry Thorsten and Commander Ultor were waiting in the hangar for Mikkhael as he climbed out of Starkindler’s cockpit. His feet touched the pavement shakier then he wished, but held firm underneath him. Blue-shirted environmental technicians swarmed him briefly, removing his suit for him. They were present as much to perform that function as they were to pick him up off the floor should he have another fainting episode. Even though he had not asked for their presence, he was grateful that Dr. Hesken had seen fit to provide their assistance. He was still adapting to the strangeness of how complete the change was in the way he was greeted from just four months previously

  Both of the men heartily congratulated him as soon as he removed his helmet. Throughout both the main hangar, and Starkindler’s dedicated hangar, cases and crates bearing official PDF markings were present along with growing stacks of smelted ingots as separate teams were already being sent out to recover the unmanned cargo trucks. Throughout the mountain, cut caverns and hangars were filled to bursting with spoils of their success. While in transit to Mount Olympus, the Security Division had been diligently busy. Responsible for the internal safety of the stronghold and its inhabitants, they were not about to allow themselves to be compromised now. The security teams traded their work clothes for their discarded uniforms and then spent the entire return trip working; diligently inspecting each crate, cataloguing the contents, and disabling any trackers they found. Everything from the freighter checked out, as far as anyone knew back in Abadon, the entire shipment had been routine if a bit strange in the amount of manpower involved and efficiency of the workforce.

  Commander Ultor’s expression suddenly changed from pleasure at seeing him return triumphant to a more serious tone as he addressed Mikkhael. “Thanks to your plan and fabricators, the Chief Engineer assures me he now has enough materials to build over sixty new upgraded MARS units. Long-needed repairs throughout the base will commence immediately, as will the installation of the new additional defensive weaponry outside the mountain. For the first time in years, we will have a shortage of pilots and personnel, not equipment, and weapons.”

  Sir Henry Thorsten interjected, “Aye, and it looks like your friends were more than able to provide their share and then some in additional materials and replacement weapons for your Mech. Just scanning through the logs of what has come in, looks like they have sent some upgrades as well. I will have our people install them right away. Oh, and one last thing,” The
Chief Engineers voice trailed off as he turned serious. He handed a data slate to Mikkhael who took it, trepidation in his gaze. He did not need to hear what was said next, he already knew what the slate contained.

  Unable to continue, Commander Ultor finished for the gruff engineer. “The Security Division found your name on that slate, from your friends. We will see to it that you are not disturbed for the next 48 hours. Get some rest, you have earned the downtime.” With that, the men walked out, the environmental technicians having retreated earlier with Mikkhael’s suit, leaving him feeling suddenly exposed and alone in the giant hangar with just Starkindler, the slate, and the haunting thoughts of his friends remaining back on Earth.

  He retreated to his quarters, data slate cradled carefully in his arms. The nearly barren hallways livened up as soon as he passed someone. He tried to meet their gazes, return their congratulations and enthusiasm, but he faked the motions poorly and everyone knew it. After he finally arrived in his quarters, as unfamiliar to him as the mess hall or just about any other area within the mountain stronghold, he tenderly set the slate on the small bed in the corner of the room before retreating to the far side of the room.

  He undressed slowly, overwhelmed by the feeling of loss without his friends there with him. Aurora gracefully gave him space, rendering her presence available as on-call. Collapsing on the bed, he activated the tablet by placing his palm on the screen as well as performing a retinal scan of both eyes. If anyone else attempted to unlock the tablet, it would have melted in his or her hands after sending a signal back to Earth announcing what had happened. Instead, the tablet displayed a picture of the four friends back on Earth, smiling back at him.