A standard Raknar cockpit held one Dusman, so it was a much like a super-sized CASPer, but there were variants. Given the space, this was a variant and, likely, the heavy experimental model the Besquith instructors told fantastic stories about over drinks in the bar. There were three positions: control, weapons, and systems. Control, a vaguely humanoid-shaped space where the Dusman in command of the Raknar would have sat, rested in the middle and slightly forward. The three-sided console sat at Jessica’s eye level as if hanging there. Weapons was to the right and well down from Jessica’s position on the wall. She’d finish there, with any luck. Weapons required power, and the only place she could see what the Raknar could do was the other console. The system position was tucked about a meter above and a meter or so behind the control station.
“Well, shit,” She laughed. “This isn’t going to be easy.”
Her earpiece clicked. “Bulldog, Hex. Over.”
“Go ahead, Hex.”
There was a pause. “It’s bad. Kei is dead along with three other Angels. I mean, we’re assuming she’s dead. We can’t find a body. It’s like her CASPer detonated instead of the camera system. There’s at least 40 Altar dead, maybe more. The server compound is gone. It shouldn’t have detonated like that. I don’t…no idea, Jess.”
Jessica paused. She needed to calm him down. “Hex? What about Altar casualties?”
“Um...yeah, there’s about a 100 wounded and the central air defense system was damaged. Klatk is getting a damage report now.”
“I need you to take charge up there.”
Hex sighed. “How am I supposed to do that?”
Jessica shook her head. “Find out what happened, Hex. What’s the situation down below?”
“Klatk lost contact with her team. There’s been a cave-in on at least one of the lower levels. I’ll send a team down there as soon as I can.”
“Gotcha. Keep security up and don’t let your guard down.”
“Roger, Jess.”
She studied the control console and decided it was worth trying to climb. “Keep the faith, Hex.”
“Roger, Bulldog. Will advise of changes. Out.”
Jessica turned and looked around the slightly curving wall with the light for anything usable. She snapped the light’s cylindrical shaft into a 90-degree bend and nested it into a bunch of cables and wires so it pointed up at the target console. Wiping her hands on her coveralls, she reached out to an open panel on the control console and found a solid handhold for both hands. Swinging her left leg up as she vaulted to the console, she found purchase on the side of the control station, pulled her full weight up, and scrambled for a higher grip. Right foot placed on her initial handhold, Jessica tested her weight on the console and found it stable. Able to rest, she looked up into the cockpit at the systems station and froze. One entire panel was gone, revealing the inner workings and board systems within. The interior gold board reflected the flashlight and showed row upon row of silver connections and black chipsets. Most of them were square, but a few were round. In the depth of the console, there was a board of rectangular shaped ones just like...
Oh, shit!
An icy bolt of electricity shot down her spine and she reached into her pocket—
WHAMM!
<
No shit!
The Raknar bucked from side to side as multiple detonations hit the mech’s body. From the feel of it, several hit the Raknar’s back, and the vibrations threatened to throw her off the console completely. Whole body frantically grabbing the console, Jessica barked at her earpiece. “Hex! Report!”
Outside, she heard the Altar batteries open fire with a deafening whoosh. “Returning fire on red air. Six bandits. They’re making another run. Hang on, Jess!”
A series of detonations rippled along the spine of the Raknar. The first few were lower down, near the Raknar’s hips. They traveled up the imaginary spine of the beast, and Jessica realized it wasn’t any type of collateral damage. The Raknar, and she, were the targets. This wasn’t about the Altar colony at all. The Raknar and whatever was below the surface were the problems. What if it’s all connected? Klatk’s people are simply in the way and—
Jessica didn’t have time to finish that train of thought. A large explosion threw her from the control console and toward the cockpit door. Pain shot through her for a millisecond before her head glanced off the cockpit rail. She slid down the wall and came to rest in a pile of cables and filth as the cockpit door clanged shut above her.
* * * * *
Chapter Eighteen
Hex bounded into his CASPer at the first siren. Adrenaline pushed him up the mecha’s body without a crew ladder, and he barely noticed the strain in his limbs as he climbed. Hex fell into the cockpit and felt for the leg openings with his feet. Haptic cables engaged by feel, he connected the CASPer to his suit. “Close canopy; weapons power on. Sensors to maximum and cleared for combat movement.”
Across the heads-up display, green lights flickered to life. The sensor package immediately picked up the circling flyers and selected the closest one as a primary target. A red box appeared around the target. Darkness made a visual confirmation impossible. Hex flipped the sights to infrared and immediately saw the faint targets turning nose-on for another pass.
“Klatk, all weapons to active. Bandits approaching from bearing two one zero at an altitude of 1,500 meters. Speed is two five zero.”
The CASPer’s canopy sealed and Hex bounded down the hill toward the Raknar. He broke away to the south of the massive, fallen mecha to set up a firing position. One CASPer, though, wasn’t going to do much against six fully-armed flyers.
“Demon One, I need some assistance.”
Tara’s voice came back immediately. “Roger, Boss. Two bandits converging on your position. Arrival in 30 seconds.”
Hex shook his head. “I don’t have 30 seconds, Tara. Engage at maximum effective range and knock those fuckers down.”
“Copy all. Watch yourself out there.” Tara replied and the channel fell silent.
Hex kept running down the shoreline. The CASPer’s heavy footfalls were muted in the loose sand along the Choote’s bank. Hex looked back over his shoulder and saw another CASPer closing on him from his seven o’clock. The icon read Angel Seven and the bastard closed the distance faster than Hex could have imagined.
“Angel Seven, turn around and get back to the colony for defense.”
“Negative,” he heard Kirkland sniffling in the transmission. “There’s no way in hell I’m going back there, Boss.”
“That’s an order, Kirkland.”
Angel Seven continued to bound forward, firing his jumpjets to accelerate beyond Hex’s position and move further down the shoreline. “I’ll take this mission, Boss.”
“Get back to the colony!”
Kirkland laughed over the connection. “You’re not the only one who’d rather die now, Hex.”
Hex slid the CASPer to a stop. His eyes fell to the picture of him and Maya along the instrument panel. Drawing fire away from Jessica wasn’t suicide, was it? Six flyers versus one CASPer were decent odds for him, if he weren’t the commander of the mission. “This isn’t about dying, Kirkland.”
“Really? Tara says all you want to do is die, that your last mission was a shitstorm worse than hers,” Kirkland replied. “You lost everything, and you can’t fight like you did or should. I understand that now. Let me handle this, Hex.”
Kei.
Hex blinked and it all fit together. How could I have missed the two of them? They’d been careful and private, but there were lingering moments when they’d worked on a problem or stood too close together while they did CASPer maintenance. They were a lot like he and Maya had been in the early days of their relationship. Just as he knew how much losing Maya hurt, he knew that Kirkland’s age and inexperien
ce fueled his rage. Hex understood it all too well.
Suddenly, being two kilometers away from the colony, facing six incoming flyers, seemed like a bad idea. “Angel Seven, return to base. I’m right behind you.”
“Negative.” Kirkland’s CASPer closed the remaining distance and stopped a good 200 meters away. Both arms came up and the supplementary rocket pods deployed. “It’s a good day to die, Boss.”
Hex smirked and brought his weapons online. “Neither of us are gonna die today, Kirkland. Maximum spread—missiles first and cannons to standby. Save the rail guns for later.”
“Bringing them in close, huh?” Kirkland chuckled. “Roger, Boss. I’m locked on the trailing three.”
Hex selected the lead three flyers with his fingers and cued the visual targeting system to the missile pods on his CASPer’s shoulders. A low, warbling tone in his ears said the missiles were online and tracking. In a matter of seconds, the warbling tone became a constant growl, and he saw the LOCKED icon flash on his screen. “Locked on the lead three. Fifteen seconds to intercept.”
A new voice entered the conversation. “Hex? We have targets acquired and are prepared to engage once you’ve fired upon them.” Klatk’s voice was measured and calm. “I have negative contact with Peacemaker Francis and the subterranean patrol.”
Hex nodded to no one. “Long distance contacts?’
“Surveillance radars report nothing. This appears to be an aerial strike and nothing more,” Klatk replied.
“Then let’s send them to hell.” Hex adjusted the sights and watched the ducted-fan flyers spread into a double wedge formation. Not mercenaries, he realized. The GenSha were trying something direct for a change. Their mercenary forces were unmoving and quiet, at least it appeared that way. His range indicator flashed green, and Hex loosed three missiles and bounded directly toward the incoming flyers, closing the distance as he did. The flyers tossed out flares to evade the heat-seeking missiles and swerved across his view. His second and third salvos were ready. The lead flyer broke away and dove toward the ground, accelerating in the general direction of the Raknar. Hex didn’t take the bait. As Kirkland unleashed on the trailing vehicles, Hex fired multiple missiles at the two flyers not on the leader’s path. Both went down spectacularly. Hex bounded toward the shoreline, his eyes and sensors on the leader, as the flyer raced along the water’s surface at 300 knots. Closing the distance, Hex selected a spot on the wide, central sandbar and engaged his jumpjets at maximum power and range. The CASPer shot into the air effortlessly.
“Splash one,” Kirkland reported.
Three to go.
Hex brought his rail gun online and snapped the CASPer’s right arm up to engage the leader. “Lead the target,” he said and the suit’s optics and cannon worked as one, positioning the barrel so the projectile would intercept the flyer. Before Hex could fire, the flyer banked sharply toward him and Kirkland. Hex cut his jets and spun in mid-air. Landing on the sandbar, he looked across the river toward Kirkland and saw the CASPer with both arms up, spraying fire into the sky. Two flyers descended on the young man’s position, cannons firing. A cloud of dust and debris erupted around him.
“Angel Seven, jump!”
Kirkland stood his ground, weapons firing. One of the enemy flyers sparked under fire. The ducted fans on the starboard side shuddered and stopped. The flyer rolled violently to the left and spun into the ground not more than 500 meters from Kirkland’s position. Hex looked over his shoulder. The lead flyer was nose-down and accelerating toward them. There were seconds to act, maybe less. The CASPer’s feet hit the sandbar, and Hex reflex-jumped to maximum altitude on an arc toward Kirkland. He keyed his weapons systems mid-jump and fired twice. The missiles shot out and descended to slightly above the surface as they raced down the Choote River toward the accelerating target. The first missile reported an overshoot warning and self-destructed harmlessly 3,000 meters from the flyer. The second missile made the proper correction and shot down the riverbed toward the flyer as it banked and tried to cut across the missile’s path. A flash creased Hex’s vision.
<
Hex cut the jets short and smacked into the shallow river. Jets at maximum, he jumped low and hard to the left. The missile passed him closely enough for him to see three yellow stripes along its fuselage. Unable to follow through the turn, the missile detonated and showered Hex with debris. The CASPer’s caution and warning system lit up with a series of warnings. He scanned them and saw nothing critical, but his CASPer wasn’t going to fight or fly as it should.
The lead flyer pivoted and swung around to face him. For a moment, he and the flyer did not move and while Hex couldn’t see the pilot’s eyes, he knew they were thinking the same thing. The first one to move would dictate the fight. Hex didn’t hesitate and fired two missiles from his left pod. He jumped left, toward the sandbar in the middle of the Choote and crashed into the water again. With water at the base of his cockpit, Hex watched the flyer dart to its right and swing across Hex’s field of vision with the missiles in pursuit. He raised the railgun, “Compensate.”
The gun tracked with a snap hard enough to jolt him in the cockpit. Hex squeezed his fingers to his palms and the railgun fired six high-velocity rounds. After the second one, the flyer ceased to exist.
That’s four. Two to go.
Hex spun and sighted Kirkland on the beach. The kid was still up and firing, even though his CASPer broadcast a steady litany of failures and emergency action requests. One of the remaining flyers hovered and continued to fire. Hex raised the rail gun again and the ballistic computer locked. He fired and instinctively looked for the remaining flyer even before his target detonated spectacularly in mid-air. The little bastard swung around from the north at scrub bush level, almost too low to see. Altar guns from the colony walls fired a barrage of tracer rounds that didn’t find their marks. Hex brought up his weapons as the flyer came at him nose on and fired.
A missile tracked into the fight and closed the distance to the flyer. There was a small, proximity detonation and the flyer hit the river at 200 miles per hour, shattering into a million flaming pieces. Hex looked up into the dark sky and saw nothing else, but he waited for his sensors to confirm it. The sky was quiet again. He jumped from the river toward the shoreline and Kirkland’s torn up CASPer.
“Nice shot, Seven.”
“Thanks, sir.”
Hex landed on the riverbank and forced himself to relax at the controls. There was no indication of additional attacks from either force. Their target had clearly been the Raknar and not the Altar colony, itself. Hex turned back to the Raknar and saw a half-dozen small fires burning along its gigantic, rusting hull. A small explosion shot a fountain of bright blue sparks into the sky like fireworks. He pressed the transmit button. “Bulldog, do you read me?”
There was nothing but a hiss of static.
Hex tried again. “Bulldog, this is Hex, do you read?”
Again, nothing.
Hex clenched his jaw, but relaxed it immediately. There was another information source he could try. “Lucille, this is Hex on standard frequency alpha. Do you read?”
<
“I need a SITREP on Bulldog.”
<
Hex engaged the jumpjets, squatted down for power, and leapt into the sky toward the bank of the Choote. He looked back over his shoulder. “Angel Seven, you have command of the forward defense while I check on Bulldog. Get a listening post out here immediately. How copy?”
“Roger, breaking for Demon One.”
Hex flipped to the Altar command frequency. “—Urgent, I say again, urgent. Hex, this is Klatk, please get to the command complex.”
His stomach knotted. “Klatk, is it Bulldog?”
Klatk’s voice came back. “Negative, Hex.
We’re still unable to reach her. That puts you in command of the Peacemaker’s mission.”
“Roger, I’m moving there now. Have your forces muster, Klatk.”
“Negative, Mister Alison,” a new voice replied. “This is Mediator Taemin. Your mission is over. You will direct me to the Peacemaker’s location. If she is dead, you will identify the body. Is that clear?”
* * *
“You’re certain of this?” The last syllable drug out in a hiss that grated Qamm’s last nerve.
She rubbed the soft fur at the interior corners of her eyes. “Confirmed. They have a handful of CASPers and four tanks. That’s it.”
“And the explosion?” Leeto asked. “The Selroth have given us no information other than strength of the explosion and location. Something happened in the Altar colony, and your aircraft couldn’t assess what happened.”
Qamm took a breath. “We know their security and communications connections to the Consortium have been severed. We know there are multiple casualties, both Altar and human. And, we know the strength of the mercenary force that’s there at the Peacemaker’s request. I believe that’s enough to act upon, hence this conversation, Leeto.”
There was silence on the line. “My source at D’nart tells me that Kenos is not leaving the spaceport to investigate until morning. When are you proposing this...action? First light?”
“How quaint and very human of you,” Qamm smirked. “The Peacemaker would expect that, and I’m not prepared to give her the advantage. I propose we attack now. Tonight.”
“I think not,” Leeto replied. Before Qamm’s anger flashed to words, he continued, “For the value you’ve theorized, I’d prefer to wait until the Administrator is on the ground, himself. The dead cannot prosecute those who breach contracts, which is exactly what you’ve proposed. Doing so would mean I would need enough credits to protect my entire force from litigation and so would you. We will never work as mercenaries again, Qamm. Forced retirement requires more than adequate compensation to fend off my enemies.”
Peacemaker (The Revelations Cycle Book 6) Page 21
