The four Mech armor plodded through the service tunnel for nearly ten minutes until they arrived in the primary ready hangar, the largest of the seven hangars inside the mountain aside from the secretive R&D division. Athena took over piloting, allowing Alyona to relax and mentally gather herself while quickly downing a small meal. The down time did wonders for Alyona, allowing the full effects of the cognitive boosters to flow through her, restoring strength, vitality, and most importantly clarity. Inside the primary hangar, the four pilots were greeted by an incredible sight.
As the airlock leading into the primary hangar opened, the Omnos squad was greeted by an incredible sight none of them would ever forget. Seventy-two gleaming white Salvatore models stood in front them, arrayed in ranks six wide, twelve deep, filling the hangar with their gleaming white frames. Each of the Salvatore models was nearly the same size as Vera’s unit, Atalanta, standing head and shoulders above the previous rebel models. The Salvatore design was clearly based on the same basic design as the Omnos squad Mech armor, far superior to the earlier Fury and Justice models. Each arm was equipped with a primary cannon, one laser based, the other a projectile-based cannon. Hanging from the left arm of each unit was a kite shield, clearly made from the same sturdy metals as the Salvatore models themselves. Surrounding each unit was the blue nimbus of energy shields. Sensor readouts showed that their energy shields were half as strong as those of the Omnos squad, while their total reactor output was nearly 70%, which were incredibly impressive numbers showing just how quickly the StormCrows were closing the technological gap.
The backs of each Salvatore unit were wingless, instead containing ranks of Mech-killing missiles and unguided rockets. On top of each shoulder were additional mini-rocket launchers. On the outside of each thigh and around the front torso was a layer of ballistic glass attached to the units via hard points. Closer inspection revealed that the outside of the units were covered in energy absorbing foam, borrowing the concept from Starkindler and the Omnos squad. All told, the raw capabilities of the Salvatore models nearly matched those of the Omnos squad, and the gleaming white units were clearly prepared to both give and take an epic beating and keep going. On top of that, their sheer numbers rendered them an incredibly potent force.
One of the units stepped forward, the symbol of a white tiger smartly outlined in orange and black was emblazoned on its right breast, saluting the stunned Omnos squad pilots with its enormous white arm. Captain Cartwright’s voice blared from the units PA system, echoing through the open hangar. “We watched your fight against the drones atop the plateau. Stand proud Omnos squad, you’ve earned it. Now, it’s our turn. You will each lead a company of Salvatore’s, reinforcing the front lines. I’m not one for speeches and there isn’t any time for one regardless. Just go kick some serious ass and let’s show those bastards who they’re messing with.”
Seventy-one PA systems cheered after his simple speech, the sound of their defiant cries resounded through the hangar. They cheering cut off as a different unit broke from the assembly, approaching to stand in front of Kiryl. “Lieutenant Jacobson reporting as company commander. We’ll follow you Sir.”
Kiryl was stunned, but his moment of reverie was interrupted by a link request appearing on his HUD, originating from Lieutenant Jacobson’s Salvatore. Athena gave the link request her blessing, having checked it for viruses, and he accepted the link. Immediately coordinates appeared on his HUD leading out of the hangar and towards the front lines. “Understood Jacobson. Glad to have you and your men. I can’t wait to see what those new toys can do. Company, head out!” Kiryl belted loudly over the PA system, and then proceeded to head out of the hangar through the external air lock, trailed by Jacobson’s Salvatore and seventeen others.
As the first company began the process of filing out of the hangar, Lieutenant Xilan was next to march his unit to the front and address the Omnos squad. He was another highly capable MARS unit squadron leader, and had already experienced working with one of the highly advanced Mech armor from Earth when he assisted Mikkhael with the destruction of a primary PDF outpost. The stolid veteran approached Vera, saluting her as he announced over the PA system, “Ma’am, we’ll follow you.”
The process of linking their communications repeated itself as Vera’s Atalanta received coordinates and began following them, proceeding in a different direction from Intrepid, trailed by Xilan and seventeen other Salvatore models.
Ulric, Eve’s second in command, lead the next wave. The greeting process concluded with Ulric and the seventeen members of his company following Kurtis as they headed in a third direction. With two companies of Salvatore models remaining in the hangar, Captain Cartwright announced that he was leading his own company and followed in the direction of Kiryl.
Alyona was left alone, the scars and scorch marks of battle still staining her stark white unit as she faced off against the last eighteen units that still gleamed with fresh paint. One approached her after Cartwright’s company had left. “Eirk Ahlberg ma’am. If it pleases you, we are proud to follow you into battle. Your company awaits your orders.”
Alyona felt tears drip down her cheeks, unable to speak as her voice betrayed her. She accepted the link request, noting in satisfaction that her company would be following Kiryl’s towards the front lines. Temporarily unable to speak without letting them know she was crying, Alyona coughed and then cleared her throat before finally being able to respond. “Let’s kick some PDF ass!” She yelled as she thrust the right arm of DawnsLight into the air, brandishing its cannon.
The members of her new company loosed a cheer on their PA systems and then waited as DawnsLight moved to the front of their column, leading them out of the primary hangar. As she walked through the service tunnel leading to their exit, Athena re-toggled the right side of her HUD, showing the status of all eighteen units and the vitals of their pilots miniaturized next to them.
The members of her company were separated into three columns, each column denoting a squadron. At the top of each column was the face of the pilot, who served as the squadron leader. Athena then moved the vitals of each of the other three Omnos pilots below the three columns of her squad. Alyona could check an individual’s unit status and vitals simply by turning her head and focusing her eyes on one of the tags, and then Athena would automatically enlarge where she looked. The system was efficient and immediately useable.
* * * * *
Commander Ultor barked commands as his subordinates in the Command and Control Center (C&C) capably relayed information up and down the chain of command. On top of the reports filtering in from his staff, alerts triggered on the console next to him, alerting him to criteria he determined to be critical. He watched passively as a new alert flashed on the console accompanied by a pleasant chirping sound, notifying him that the Omnos squad had assumed leadership of the Salvatore companies. The combined brigade of tremendously powerful MARS units was now headed to reinforce the front lines.
With the deployment of the Omnos and Salvatore units to the front lines, his role as commander was rapidly becoming more passive. From this moment on, there were no more pieces left for him to move, leaving him unable to influence more than basic elements of the fighting. The strategy along the front lines having been rendered down to nothing more than self-defense.
The traditional roles of battlefield commander had long since been replaced by computers. The sheer scale of the PDF army arrayed against them rendered defense of the mountain a static battle, each squadron was responsible for defending just their own position, unable to retreat because there was nowhere for them to go. Reinforcements, emergency repair, resupply, and evacuation of the wounded were all being handled at the local level by the individual division officers and their independent chains of command.
“Situation report?” Commander Ultor asked no one in particular as he attempted to find some, any way he could positively contribute, nervous at not having anything to do but sweat.
A lead technician
responsible for monitoring automated defense status was the first to respond. “Their artillery barrages wiped out 4% of our automated turrets on the East face of the mountain. The current rate of attrition is holding steady at 1.3% a minute. At the current pace, our exterior defenses will critically fail in approximately one hour, forty minutes.”
From the opposite end of the room, another technician reported. “Engineering stated that reactors throughout the base are operating at maximum capacity, including the backups and the standby sources. Reactor temperatures are steadily climbing. For the time being, temperatures are high but within normal operating ranges. All non-necessary functions throughout the mountain have been shut down to accommodate for the increased load. Standby battery sources will be exhausted in approximately three hours. Reactor temperatures will quickly spiral out of control at that point. That will force the reactor power output to drop significantly.”
From a station next to Commander Ultor, dedicated to monitoring reports generated by the AI overseeing the overall progress of the battle, a technician summarized the battle flow. “Because of the addition of the Salvatores on the front lines, the current PDF attack has been repulsed. Enemy Marauder tanks and heavy Mech armor, Stridents and Steyrs, are massing behind a large wedge of Hunter drones. Time until the next attack is approximately twenty minutes. For now, the front lines are mopping up the remnants from the current attack while performing field resupply and maintenance. We have lost eighteen percent of our MARS units. The AI expects the Salvatore units to buy us another two to three hours until the PDF figure out how to overwhelm them. The PDF appear content with continuing a battle of attrition that is entirely in their favor.”
Other technicians, throughout the C&C reported equally sobering details. The arrival of the Salvatore and Omnos units on the front lines added an immense amount of firepower during a critical juncture, but they would not be enough to change the outcome of the battle. All they were doing was delaying the inevitable.
Unfortunately, that sentiment echoed throughout the front lines ranks. All allied communications were monitored, and as the fighting temporarily died down, the troops began debating how long they could hold out before being overrun. Despite orders to cease and desist, some of those troops began debating whether the Russian, German PPF, or WinterSong factions would come to save them. Others called across open frequencies, begging the few allied reinforcements that had sent troops to call their factions and plead for additional help.
If that were not bad enough, one voice cut through the rest, that of a woman sobbing. “Starkindler, where are you? Save us Mikkhael, we need you!”
On hearing Mikkhael and Starkindler mentioned, Commander Ultor’s stomach dropped. Many of the technicians turned to stare at him, obviously wondering where Starkindler was too. Mikkhael’s condition had been hidden from everyone. They were all given the cover story that he was being held, in reserve, until the moment he was most needed. During these last few months, nearly everyone in Mount Olympus had assisted with the re-construction of Starkindler. Under their accusing eyes, the knot of guilt in Commander Ultor’s stomach made breathing difficult, everything was becoming increasingly painful.
Commander Ultor had no answers to those questioning stares and no desire to let his subordinates down. He scanned the room, his eyes losing focus as he considered their state of affairs. The monitors at either end of the room, and those at each technician’s station, showed the battle continuing to proceed with absolutely no input from him.
Just then, Colonel Jansen his ever-loyal subordinate, appeared at his side, placing a hand knowingly on the Commanders shoulder. Startled, Commander Ultor met his eyes, guiltily holding the gaze for several seconds until the Colonel nodded affirmatively, squeezing his shoulder.
With the tacit acknowledgement that Commander Ultor was not abandoning his post, instead bearing responsibility for one more issue that only he could take care of, Ultor transferred command to the Colonel. He left without saying anything, hoping the technicians would understand his leaving during such an important moment. His guilt over leaving was replaced with urgency as he appropriated an electric cart parked outside the C&C. As the cart hurtled through the empty stone halls, dull thunder rumbled through the mountain, announcing the start of the next attack.
Ultor wound his way through the empty corridors as if demons from his past were in close pursuit, hungrily threatening to devour his soul. After several minutes of such reckless speed, he screeched to a halt outside the pair of bleach white doors adorned with a single red cross. Ultor left the cart behind, hurrying through the doors and the empty infirmary corridors without hesitation. He was intimately familiar with every square inch of the base, especially the medical ward. With every step, he felt the vice squeezing on his heart and lungs ratcheting itself tighter.
He passed through the vacant nurse’s station, headed down the long, empty corridor towards the back of the medical ward. Cameras above the doors scanned his face; automatically unlocking the restricted access passages as he rushed towards the heart of the mountain. His momentum did not slow as he lowered his shoulder and stiff-armed the slam bar on the last door, veritably bursting through the door, out of breath and out of time.
The shock of his abrupt entrance and unannounced presence in the isolation ward startled Dr. Hesken and the one remaining nurse. They had just finished moving Mikkhael’s still unconscious form back onto the hospital bed, finished with his exercises.
“What the hell is meaning of this Cyril! Don’t you have something more important to be doing at this moment?!” Dr. Hesken screamed at him, holding her hand over her heart, pushing against her chest in a reflexive action, vainly attempting to calm herself.
His reply came out more curtly than he intended. “I’m where I am needed, as are you. We do not have long… can you wake him?”
The gravity of the situation rendered any arguments the doctor could make invalid before she even voiced them, leaving Dr. Hesken speechless for one of the few times in her life. She searched his face for answers, seeing the tired lines of wrinkles and the black bags from days of sleeplessness under his eyes. His eyes were what drew her attention though, their longing, need, searching for hope as they moved skittishly between her and the unconscious form on the bed provided the only summary of the battle she needed.
Dr. Hesken began running calculations through her head. “Not without risk,” she meekly replied as she guiltily stared at the floor before turning away from him. They had known each other for a long time. Innately, she knew that his presence in the isolated ward while an enemy army pounded at the door of their home meant that all other options to stave off the inevitable had been exhausted. There was no other reason for Cyril Ultor, Commander of the StormCrow faction, to have appeared before her in that way, at that moment, asking for Mikkhael.
Ultor simply nodded, “We need him. Now. Do it.” With the order given and nothing left to do but shoulder the guilt stemming from his command, he pulled a chair from the far side of the room towards the hospital bed, collapsing heavily on the unpadded metal seat.
One of Mikkhael’s hands hung limply off the side of the bed, remaining in place from where it had fallen during his transfer to the bed. Ultor took the hand, holding it in his own, squeezing it tightly as he stared guiltily at his knees, unable to watch the results of his decision.
The nurse waited for the unspoken cue from Dr. Hesken before moving over to the row of cupboards against the far side of the room. Ultor may have been their faction leader, but her loyalty clearly belonged to the doctor. The nurse efficiently began the process of attaching needles while preparing syringes. Once finished, she began readying a set of instruments to have on standby in case of possible complications, having been previously informed of what they would need for the revival process. As for Dr. Hesken, she moved to a small cart, selecting and preparing various pharmaceuticals for administration.
The preparations continued apace for a few minutes as both medica
l personnel worked smoothly and efficiently. Dr. Hesken selected the last bottle, the one containing Vera’s infamous cocktail of cognitive boosting drugs from the counter where she was working. She guided the cart carrying the rest of the medicinal goods towards the bed with one hand as she considered the contents of the bottle in her other hand. The sound of the wheels passing over the tiled floor was suddenly broken as she elicited a short, piercing scream. Immediately, all movement in the room stopped, except for the fall of the glass bottle that moments previously had been in the doctors’ hand, now instinctively covering her mouth. The now forgotten bottle falling to the floor where it shattered.
Upon hearing the doctor scream, the nurse immediately stopped what she was doing, surging to Dr. Hesken’s side, instantly prepared to assist in any way necessary. As soon as the nurse turned to face the doctor, her momentum coming to a stop as abruptly as it had started. Seeing that the doctor was fine, she focused her attention, following the direction of the doctor’s gaze. She searched for what had startled the doctor.
She was startled as she saw that she was now looking into Mikkhael’s open eyes. They were staring straight at her, evaluating her with an incredible presence, clarity, and focus as they absorbed every detail about her. Once finished, his eyes moved to the doctor, repeating the process. The nurses’ heart fluttered for a moment at the unexpected turn of events and the sudden welling of hope that he embodied. Her training swiftly kicked in. Seeing that Mikkhael was awake and once again watching her, the nurse stepped to the side, observing as his eyes began tracking her, drawn to the sudden peripheral movement.
Nemesis (The MechaVerse Trilogy Book 2) Page 41
