Starkindler (MechaVerse Series Book 1)

by Jeremy Cunkle

  With no other choice available, they ran.

  Chapter 16 – Warriors Resolve

  “When you look inside yourself and the only thing left that you see is desperation, prepare for something extraordinary.” -- Mikkhael Dreyfus

  “General Akari sir! Field Commander Rivald is reporting a major engagement at the Second Marine encampment! He says the terrorist is attacking them singlehandedly! They were caught by surprise in the middle of a maintenance period and he is requesting reinforcements immediately!” The communication technicians’ shocked eyes displayed his disbelief at the reports flooding in.

  General Akari took in the reports coming in and efficiently filtered them before issuing orders to the command center. Even though signal jamming was occurring across all radio frequencies, they had laid a wire line from each of the main encampment’s to the Command and Control Center before the battle started, allowing for communication lines to still exist as long as the cables were not cut. Video of the battle relayed from onsite Marine kill cams quickly occupied the main view screen. Smaller surrounding screens were populated by individual pilot’s vital signs grouped by squad. The formation as a whole was shown on yet more screens from top down.

  “This is ludicrous. He is attacking a full battalion of heavy Mech armor by himself.” SSgt. Anderson stuttered as he spoke. He watched along with his General as the encampment lit up from one explosion after another. Together, they watched in awe as the terrorist danced with near impunity among the disorganized PDF, all semblance of order having long since fled. “This. This is what he is truly capable of, isn’t it?”

  They watched the battle unfold, powerless to further shape the events in front of them. The Marines outnumbered and surrounded Starkindler, but very few fired their weapons. Their numbers were being reduced at an alarming rate. The decision to have so many Mech armor undergoing field maintenance at once due to their depleted fuel cells needing to be changed out was turning into an absolute disaster. The overconfidence of the local commander in his belief that numerical superiority translated into invincibility was being crushed into the million individual parts that made up the men and machines shattering under his command.

  The aide turned to General Akari, confusion contorting his features. “I don’t understand why they do not just fire at once wiping him out? The way they are fighting, it’s too sporadic to be effective.”

  General Akari replied absently, as if presenting a lecture to a class of new airman. A feeling of inevitable helplessness struck him as he watched the Marines battle against the terrorist who had seemingly become unhinged and yet he was still winning in spite of everything. He conferred quietly with the SSgt. all while continuing to watch the screen depicting the ongoing battle, recalling the information without effort. “Our Mech armor are equipped with IFF sensors. Those sensors ping a target just before a weapon discharges. If the reply ping identifies the target as a Friend, then, the weapon will not be allowed to discharge. If there are friendlies nearby to a target and firing may kill or significantly injure them, then the computer will also deny permission to fire. Only if the ping reply returns as Foe with a guarantee of no friendly collateral damage will the computer allow the weapons to be fired.

  “After the Islamist Insurrection six years ago, the system was put into place to avoid fratricide. The Islamists in particular proved effective in stealing our Mech armor units, as well as infiltrating sleeper terrorists into the pilot ranks that we believed to be loyal. Before the locks were put into place, one terrorist could infiltrate into the center of a group and begin slaughtering all of them, just as you see happening before you in an ironic twist of fate. The Islamists have always lacked the ability to produce anything advanced enough to challenge Mech armor, and found it far more effective to utilize our own units against us rather than develop their own. Once the IFF sensors were added to the targeting computers, and locking the weapons from firing on their allies, the terrorists found themselves forever locked out of the privilege of piloting Mech armor. When that happened, they were forced to change back to their traditional terror tactics such as suicide bombers and social unrest through guerrilla tactics. The IFF sensors also raised morale through the PDF ranks at a critical point in the darkest period of the rebellion.”

  Explanation over, General Akari raised his hand, pointing to the screen in front of him. He closed his hand into a fist, pausing the video feed. He then pressed his index finger to his thumb, and then opened the pair of fingers. The main viewscreen in front of him centered on the trio of Marine Steyrs that he indicated as the display zoomed in. The screen filled with the three Steyrs behind the terrorist, perfectly positioned to destroy it, weapons properly aligned. But there were no signs of the weapons being discharged.

  He then pointed to the screen again, this time with his hand open, fingers together, swiping in the air to his left. The display adjusted to show that on the other side of the terrorist waited eight more Steyr’s. A verbal command by the General displayed arrows showing the trajectory path of each of the PDF Mech armor in the immediate combat area. The majority of them turned red as they intersected with Marine units on every side of Starkindler. Only two turned green, indicating the ability to fire safely.

  General Akari then advanced the feed by three seconds by closing his hand as if around a door handle, and then turning it to the right slightly. The scene showed the terrorist had already moved nearly fifteen feet from its previous position. The arrows reappeared, there were now only six Marine units facing off against the terrorist, two already lying in smoking piles. All of the arrows in front of the terrorist turned red and only one turned green. He then replayed the scene at normal speed. Red, green, red, green, the lights flashed, shifting too fast for human cognition.

  The conclusion was startlingly obvious. The terrorist was able to move so quickly that the targeting computers of the PDF’s Mech armor were unable to process the commands fast enough for them to identify friendly units versus enemies and then fire while the terrorist remained encircled. The enemy pilot was obviously using the input error to his advantage. Unable to fire, except in exceptionally small windows of time, the Marines were slaughtered where they stood as the terrorist pilot brilliantly anticipated and directed their individual movements far before they were made.

  “Can they just not disable the IFF sensor?” SSgt Anderson pleaded quietly.

  “If they did, that would mean the pilots would have to target their weapons manually. That is a skill that has not been used in our lifetime, at least by our forces. We would turn away from one form of fratricide to embrace another.”

  The way the General paused after his comment, the SSgt. knew there was more left unsaid. He accepted the bait. “What do you mean? Who targets manually in this day and age?”

  For an answer, General Akari’s finger pointed sharply to the center of the screen which responded by automatically zooming in. He was pointing to the terrorist.

  “How can that be possible? And how can you possibly know that? We have seen some of the shots he has taken; the level of skill involved would have to be inhuman.” The aide’s voice trailed off.

  “Watch,” was all that General Akari said as he played another clip.

  “The terrorist’s main weapons don’t exhibit the same mechanical finesse that so much of its other actions do. While the pilot rarely missed, shots often strike a shoulder, or waist, instead of the center of the torso where our pilot would be killed, or at least permanently out of the fight. Instead, there are many instances where a Mech armor was incapacitated, leaving the pilot alive and healthy because his aim was slightly off. The act of aiming for oneself speaks to the depths of the terrorists’ rage that he has to pull the trigger every time he takes a life instead of farming out the process for his targeting computer to automate.

  General Akari continued, “By both pulling the trigger and aiming the weapons, he is taking full responsibility for every single one of his actions. It’s as much a statement of h
is character as anything. The strange personal choice also gives us our first lead on his identity. I would wager that somewhere, at some point, a member of the PDF is responsible for shaping him into the demon he has become.”

  Together, they watched in helpless awe as the terrorist effortlessly destroyed four additional Steyr units in rapid succession. Once the path forward was clear, the giant machine bent its knees, angling the thrusters to the side, propelling itself rapidly to the new center of the battle where the largest number of PDF targeting computers would become susceptible to having their IFF sensors used against them. As the terrorist moved forward, the pilot fired chaff and other small rockets set to airburst into the space just vacated, destroying incoming munitions from the Marines.

  “How can the pilot defend his Mech armor like that so accurately, pilot the machine, and still be able to manually fire his weapons though?” SSgt. Anderson asked.

  “He doesn’t. He is only handling some of the movement, and his offensive weapons. The micro management of his movements is done by the Mech armor, likely an advanced AI. The same AI controls the defensive weapons, allowing the pilot to remain focused on just his targets. The potency of this combination is in front of you.”

  SSgt. Anderson thought about the reply for a moment, the implications of what he learned leaving him momentarily speechless.

  General Akari ignored his aide as he received the notification he had been waiting on, he was able to maintain his priorities. “Inform Commander Rivald reinforcements are fifty miles away. They will take approximately eight minutes to arrive. The Commander is to coordinate his defenses until then. Have his squadrons fall back and re-group as they finish activating. Use the infantry and light Mechanized armor to buy time. Help is on the way.”

  * * * * *

  A company sized detachment of infantry were the first truly organized resistance Mikkhael faced. The detachment formed into a broad line with mortar and rocket teams behind them. Two more companies of infantry fighting vehicles, armored personnel carriers, and light armored tanks secured their flanks. Together, they began to attempt to pin Starkindler down with coordinated barrages while the remaining Steyrs used the break in their foes attention to regroup behind him. A pair of Special Forces HellCat’s equipped with upgraded cannons took up snipers positions, sniping from a distance of nearly four miles away in support of the infantry.

  “It seems Akari has taken control of the forces here and is finally organizing a proper defense. They are attempting to pin you down; you must remain mobile. Movement is the key to life,” Aurora said as she performed one miracle after another. She deftly utilized the point defense cannons, bringing down waves of incoming rockets and missiles. The sheer numbers of incoming ordinance were beginning to overwhelm her capabilities as more PDF continued to organize themselves into cohesive units capable of fighting back.

  Mikkhael did not reply. He pulled hard on both of the wrist controls, bringing them to a dead stop in the middle of a flanking maneuver on a pair of fleeing Marine Steyrs, deploying the physical shield along the left arm while aiming with the right. The fleeing Steyrs did not question their luck, their pilots continuing to run away before the demon chasing them changed its mind. They were unaware of the fact that Mikkhael intentionally chased them off before pulling up alongside the deployed infantry forces arrayed in a straight line directly in front of him. Moving left to right, he used the smallest sub-cannons to pour nearly 1200 9mm bullets into their formation, mowing the infantry down like wheat being harvested. Then moving from right to left, he activated the grenade launcher under the right arm and raked the Mechanized armor positions with two dozen grenades. The high explosives ripped apart the infantries supporting armored vehicles, leaving them without an opportunity to pin him down once more.

  Seizing the moment, a trio of newly arrived HellCats attacked from behind, shredding Starkindler’s energy shields with their powerful weapons while he eliminated the infantry column. “Frontal shields at 5% and dropping, critical levels reached!” Aurora screeched. At that level, the energy shields were useless against stopping any ballistic attacks. They would still somewhat mitigate the damage dealt from energy weapons, but the hull began to ring as strikes against the outer layer of armor resounded through the cockpit, the exterior coating of high capacity heat absorbing foam for now minimizing the worst of the damage, but it would not be long until that layer of defense was also exhausted. The pace of the strikes was only increasing, meaning that at this rate, the energy shields would not be able to recharge unless they found some form of temporary reprieve.

  One of the newly arrived HellCats was equipped with a high-output energy cannon. The pilot set up in a static position while deploying a tripod for accuracy, taking accurate shots every ten seconds past Mikkhael’s physical shield into the torso of Starkindler, rocking the giant Mech armor back from the force of the shots. Aurora painted the enemy sniper with the urgent priority on the HUD, automatically adjusting the other urgent tags down to high priority. Mikkhael raised the shield to just below Starkindler’s chin, resting the right arm on top of the rim to form his own impromptu tripod before firing with the plasma cannon. As he did so, the Special-Forces pilot held up a matte black shield of its own, deflecting the attack. He cursed aloud in frustration, forcefully avoiding panic as the situation continued to devolve.

  In a move fraught with desperation and therefore the place where miracles are spawned from, he rapid charged the rail cannon, alarms blaring as the temperature gauge in the electro-magnets bleated hysterical warnings, firing again at one-third normal power.

  The sniper moved aside the shield he was cowering behind to take his turn attacking, knowing from extensive research done by High Command that Starkindler needed eight seconds for the plasma cannon to recharge. Therefore, the enemy pilot was caught entirely by surprise as the weaker follow-up shot caught a glancing blow off of the sniper rifle before striking dead on against the HellCat’s exposed head, depleting its energy shields and knocking the Mech armor off balance. Seizing the moment of opportunity, Mikkhael fired a high explosive shell, striking the HellCat in the shoulder. The arm and shoulder sections blew completely off while the momentum from the unspent kinetic forces spun the HellCat a hundred and eighty degrees to collapse face first in a cloud of dust.

  Mikkhael dropped the shield from the left arm, settling it temporarily in place in the thick dust before swinging the right arm over to attach the shield to the right arm as the plasma cannon’s electro-magnets critically overheated and needed to rest, lest they warp past the point of use or suffer a catastrophic meltdown. Aurora continued to pour forth what little ammunition they had left in her point defense cannons, futilely attempting to stay fate’s cloying grasp. She explosively ejected all of the spent RATOs as they exhausted their fuel with only one remaining; nearly empty, registering just enough to run on fumes.

  The last remaining RATO erupted, driving him hard into a new flanking maneuver so that he could fire a kinetic slug from the left main cannon at one of the original three HellCats closing in with the modern laser equivalent of a shotgun; the enemy pilot would only get one chance to fire at that range. The shell arced through the air in a brutal curve from the forces applied to it, guidance fins fighting for every inch of adjustment in the flight path as perfectly as if any super computer in the galaxy performed the targeting, striking the charging HellCat dead-center of the torso. The slugs’ penetrator blasted effortlessly through the energy shields. To Mikkhael’s stunned eyes that were only able to catch the briefest of glimpses, it was if a giant fist slammed into its torso. Opposing kinetic forces explosively met head on, collapsing the Mech unit’s frame as if it was made of thin aluminum before detonating with enough violence that nearby light-armored vehicles caught in the explosions wake were sent soaring through the air.

  Aurora used the distraction as cover, expending the last of their missiles and rockets to finish off the Steyr squadron Mikkhael had originally been targeting over five min
utes ago before repeatedly having to disengage for higher priority targets. She screamed through the implant in his ear, fighting for his attention. “Shields have completely collapsed! The drones have been eliminated. Remaining enemy forces at 80%. Missiles exhausted, other munitions are critically low. Reactor core is beginning to show signs of stress. We have to retreat!”

  “I didn’t come this far for it to end like this!” Mikkhael screamed manically, his voice shaking from the adrenaline coursing through his body. A momentary flash of an idea made him trigger the afterburners, temporarily wrapping Starkindler in a cloak of white flames, the giant machine dancing ethereally in the vanguard as the cloak of flame exhaust left in its wake a trail of permanent scars. Within seconds, they accelerated to full speed, the punishing g-forces forcing him down into the pilot’s seat that melded around him, vainly attempting to shelter him from the worst, unaware of the madness about to ensue.

  Once they achieved maximum speed across a rare flat portion of the Valles Marineris, Mikkhael then planted the nearly depleted physical shield solidly in the ground as if it were a boat’s anchor, Starkindler’s left arm braced reflexively as incredible amounts of pressure fought to sever the shield and attached arm from the torso. Mass and velocity multiplied against one another to translate unimaginable kinetic forces down upon Starkindler within the span of milliseconds, enough that they would have melted the internal organs of any other pilot in a human piloted craft. The cacophony of warnings sounded unheeded as the air cracked with the sound of Starkindler’s agonizing scream, joints fighting for meaningful cohesion.