Unfaithful Covenant

by Michael Anderle

  “I think I lost primary actuator control,” he reported. “Weapons still good, but I’d need someone to push me up.”

  “Get the hell out of there and hide,” she ordered. “Otherwise, he’ll pick you off next pass.”

  The exo opened and the soldier crawled out, the back of his tactical suit disintegrated, his skin red and bubbling. He scrambled into a pile of rubble that must have come from the street. Cabrina’s prophecy came to pass as the enemy gunship sent another rocket into the downed exo and blew it apart in a fiery explosion.

  Cabrina let out a breath. Equipment could be replaced. Her soldier was hurt but alive. She’d count it as a victory, but the fight wasn’t over until the enemy was defeated.

  “Keep the pressure on,” she ordered. “Support is on the way.”

  The last evac flitter lifted into the air and sped away. It’d been one minute since she called HQ. In normal life, a minute was nothing. People wasted them all the time on the most trivial things and got nothing out of them, but when the thin line between life and death lay in front of a person, they appreciated how long not only the minutes could be but the seconds.

  A minute later, two more squad exos were disabled, their pilots safely hidden but wounded. With the fifty-percent reduction of deadly lead pollution in the sky, the insane maneuvers of the gunship became more ridiculous, including abrupt drops for ground-scraping strafing runs. At this point, he was taunting them.

  “That’s impossible,” insisted Alpha Five. “How are they piloting that thing remotely and pulling off moves like that?”

  “No way a drone moves like that,” Cabrina countered. “It doesn’t matter. All we need to do is not get killed by the damned thing. The civilians are clear, so let’s concentrate on saving our own lives.”

  Constant automatic weapons fire into the air tended to have a deleterious effect on ammo capacity, even in exoskeletons crammed with extra ammo containers. Cabrina didn’t want to see what the gunship could do to them when no one was firing at it.

  Another minute passed. The surviving exos avoided serious damage, but their fire was more sporadic. Their enemy’s attack patterns got more elaborate, including purposeful twirling stalls it escaped from with no margin for error. If he kept it up, he might crash the gunship without any help from them. His latest display of skill ended with him shredding the back of an exo’s leg with his cannon before zooming back up.

  “I can still fight, LT,” the soldier insisted.

  “Thirty seconds,” Cabrina announced. “Stay alive and let the AAA do its thing.”

  Her eyes widened as a half-dozen black objects emerged from the gunship. She’d worried they were bombs, but when they darted away on serpentine paths, she realized they were drones. They circled overhead at a decent distance but were well within machine-gun range.

  “Ignore the drones,” she ordered. “He’s trying to throw us off. We might have clipped him. Concentrate on the gunship.”

  She didn’t understand the point of the drone array. He’d already proven he had no problem picking them off on the ground. Despite her suggestion, his continued quick movements and directional changes argued against damage.

  A voice boomed from the air, the product of the drones all transmitting at once, “Oh, little tin soldiers, what it’s like to know you’re going to die? To know you’ve fought so hard and so long for nothing? I know you’re probably thinking this isn’t piloted, but I want you to know, I risked my life in this engagement. I’m here, and you could have killed a skilled enemy had you any talent. Instead, you’ll just be another pack of dead little UTC dogs, killed by a vastly superior foe.”

  Cabrina snorted. She wouldn’t take the bait. He might or might not be inside the gunship, but either way, the asshole had a surprise coming.

  “I… Oh,” the pilot continued. “That’s unfortunate. No fun at all. You’re not even dogs. You’re insects.”

  A thunderous rumble filled the area, and a missile zoomed from behind the exos. The gunship jerked to the side to avoid the missile, but the projectile curved and circled back toward its target. A stream of small white orbs dropped from the back of the gunship and zoomed toward the missile, disintegrating in a storm of explosions. The secondary explosion from the missile rocked the entire area but didn’t even singe the gunship, which was already well away.

  “That’s right, bastard,” Cabrina murmured. “You might be able to dodge that, but can you dodge what’s coming next?”

  The back portion of the gunship vaporized, burned off by an invisible beam. A follow-up laser blast sheared off a wing. All the clever piloting in the world didn’t mean anything without engines and half the required wings. The gunship spiraled to the ground and crashed with a resounding crunch behind a nearby building.

  “That was an unforced error,” the pilot continued, his drone array untouched by the earlier attack. “I’ll admit that. I always wondered what it’d be like to face death, but don’t be so confident, insects. I destroyed an entire tank platoon on my way here. It’s only that I let myself get carried away playing with you and underestimated your available reinforcements. You didn’t win. I defeated myself.”

  Cabrina frowned. She cared less about his taunts than that he could still make them. The guy didn’t sound winded, let alone wounded. He’d gone down hard and survived without a scratch? That didn’t seem right.

  She jumped away from her current barrier of hovertruck wrecks and sprinted toward the wreckage. An expanding roar announced another AAA attack.

  “Pain is a gift,” the pilot continued. “I can see that now. Knowing you’re damaged versus actual pain. The feedback is impo—”

  The latest missile released twenty smaller rockets that swarmed the drones, which exploded like victory fireworks and dropped a lengthy shower of small dark chunks upon the cracked and blasted ground.

  Cabrina cleared the building, the other surviving exos close behind. The smoking wreckage of the gunship lay close. She kept her rifle pointed at the enemy vehicle, wondering if it was only a remote-piloted trick in the end.

  She stopped. The vehicle was smaller than most light gunships. Now that she was closer, she was even more confused by its small, narrow design. It was no wonder they couldn’t hit it, but there was also no way a human being could fit inside it.

  That was what she told herself, but it didn’t explain one important thing: the blood leaking from the side.

  Who the hell is in there?

  Chapter Six

  September 23, 2230, Neo Southern California Metroplex, Private Hangar of the Argo

  The MX 60 flew at a leisurely pace through the streams of traffic in Neo SoCal on its way to the Argo’s hangar.

  Erik wasn’t in a hurry, despite suspecting their month-long lull since the Chiron op would soon be over. Jia had been right at Victoria Falls. He could never fully switch off in his war on the Core, but that was why they kept winning.

  They had the rest of their lives to turn back into normal people. At least, he hoped they did.

  The only thing approaching stressful in the last few weeks had been attending the Lan Lin Mid-Autumn Festival bash the night before.

  Other than Jia’s father being a little too drunk and getting affectionate with her mother in public, it’d been pretty uneventful. Erik got the feeling he was supposed to care about a political debate they were having, but he’d excused himself to find more wine instead.

  Jia looked ahead from the passenger seat, boredom rather than concern on her face. “Did Lanara say what it was about? Did she give you any clue?”

  “Nope. You know Lanara. Her exact words were, ‘Blackwell, get your ass over here. Bring Lin. Need to show you both something. Hurry up, because sitting around waiting for you is wasting time,’” Erik finished with a chuckle.

  She sounded excited, surprising Erik. He hadn’t realized she cared so much. “You think this is about the new equipment that was delivered last week?”

  “I doubt it.” He shook his head. “
No reason to go over that again, and she didn’t say anything about upgrading it yet.”

  A third armored flitter for Anne’s and Kant’s use had been delivered, along with two exos of the same model as the ones Alina had supplied Erik and Jia. Everyone wanted increased flexibility for field operations, and they had enough cargo space in the Argo to easily accommodate the suits and transport.

  Erik was impressed and pleased. Between the firepower of the ship and the equipment it carried, they could inflict serious damage on the enemy without additional backup.

  Kant and Anne had proven themselves, and he was beginning to think of the group as his new squad.

  They could never replace the Knights Errant, but they didn’t have to. A man could make new friends without dishonoring those who had fallen. There were still kinks to smooth out in the relationship, but that came with any new group of people thrown together for the first time.

  “It could be a lot of things,” Erik suggested, his thoughts bouncing around and finally coming back to the conversation at hand. “You know how Lanara is. She probably just wants us there so she can brag about how she squeezed another percent of power out of a grav field emitter, and how that means we’ll be able to digest food better or something. When I’ve asked her about my requested upgrades, she’s generally told me to shut up and let her work.” He snickered. “I like having an engineer who won’t take any shit, but if she is calling us, that makes me think that Alina is prodding her.”

  “I wonder about that at times,” Jia admitted. “We have all these people helping us, but they ultimately work for her, not us. I trust Alina, but that still doesn’t sit well with me.”

  “It’s no different than when I was in the Army or when we were cops.” Erik shot her a look. “Unless you want to start a company and hire people. We can call it the Lady Justice Corp.”

  Jia rolled her eyes. “Why not the Obsidian Detectives?”

  “Hey!” He jerked a thumb at his chest. “There’s only one Obsidian Detective.”

  “I’m okay with the government footing the bill for now,” Jia replied. “I suspect I’d make a terrible boss.”

  “But you’re good at command,” Erik replied.

  “Temporarily being a shot-caller isn’t the same thing.”

  “Whatever you say.” Erik nodded. “Maybe we’re overthinking this. We’ll just have to see what Alina says.”

  Erik stared at the Argo with a stupid grin on his face like he was five years old and had been given an entire candy factory as a present. Lanara was making her way down the cargo ramp with no sense of urgency, but Erik didn’t need to be an engineer to understand the obvious and visible changes.

  All laser turrets were deployed from the ship. It was hard to miss the presence of new bottom turrets.

  Erik started clapping. “Very nice. I prefer beating people down in an exo, but if I have to play at being a Fleet boy, it’s always better to have more guns. I want someone to show me any time in history when having more guns hurt someone in a fight.”

  Lanara swiped a dark smudge off her face. Her red hair was even more frazzled than usual, as if the diminutive engineer had lost a fight with a Leem’s lightning gun. Dark circles sagged beneath her eyes.

  “I figured you’d be happy.” She nodded. “It’s easy to impress a man by adding more guns to something. That or making it bigger. Only so much I can do about the second option.”

  Jia cleared her throat. “More firepower will keep you alive as well. You’re usually in the engine room when we’re on the Argo.”

  Emma appeared with a smile in coveralls similar to Lanara’s, her outfit complete even to the face smudges. “She’s done a lot more than add the guns. I’ve already adapted all the necessary systems as well. I thought about telling you myself, but I assumed Engineer Quinn preferred to deliver the news.”

  Erik nodded at her, not really minding even though it meant Emma had known at least a few days in advance, if not weeks.

  Lanara shrugged. “Same difference to me, but I don’t like to talk about crap until it’s done.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “And it’s not just the turrets, Blackwell. Alina let me know we’d have a decent amount of time sitting around, so I finished a major reactor upgrade, too. Better reaction and emitter tuning mean I can add more juice to the shields.”

  “It gets even better,” Emma announced. “You’ll be able to destroy many more pointless gun goblins, polluting space with their pathetic pieces.”

  Lanara grunted and tapped her PNIU. Panels retracted under the Argo’s fuselage, and two new pairs of missile racks emerged on each side. Each rack held three missiles, for a total of twelve.

  Erik wondered how easily the ID could smuggle missiles to the hangar without anyone noticing. “Now we’re talking. Twelve missiles, plus eight torpedoes. This isn’t some little ghost toy anymore, it’s a cruiser given this kind of punch.”

  Jia took a couple of steps to her side to view the ship from a different angle. “It’ll be nice to have to worry less about depending on the Bifröst. The less we have to engage with it, the safer the jump drive will be. It also means we don’t have to worry as much about the piloting situation.”

  “That was one of my considerations,” Emma observed. “Assuming we don’t run into any more ridiculous confrontations with ancient aliens, we should be capable of putting up a decent fight against most individual ships we are likely to run into. In cases where we are going to be overwhelmed, the logical response would be to retreat to and then rely on the Bifröst’s weapons and drive.”

  Erik stuck a finger in the air. “Let me get this straight. We now have six laser turrets.” He put up another finger. “A torpedo launcher with eight torps.” Another finger lifted. “A plasma turret.” A fourth finger rose. “And twelve missiles.” His fifth finger joined the others. “Not to mention the improved shields, reactor, and point-defense lasers.”

  “I didn’t do anything to those,” Lanara clarified.

  “I know, but we still have them, and all that other gear.”

  Lanara folded her arms, a ghost of a smile on her face. “And I got my hands on an improved prototype version of nanodispersive film, so you also got an armor upgrade.”

  “I’m impressed,” Jia offered with a smile. “That was a lot to get done in a month. More than a lot.”

  “I have to admit, Quiet Queen and Captain Fun Time can be helpful when they’re concentrating,” Lanara replied. She inclined her head toward the ship. “I gave them the day off. They’re halfway decent as assistants. Miracles happen.”

  Erik had never heard the nicknames before but figured Janessa and Wei would complain if they were having problems with Lanara. Neither was fond of confronting their boss, but they knew Erik and Jia had no problem doing so.

  The increased number of people had led to complications, including personnel issues. They might have resolved their issues with Anne, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be any trouble among the crew in the future. He’d worry about it when he ran into it.

  For now, he had new toys.

  “This is damned fine work,” Erik observed. “The Argo’s always been able to punch above her weight, but this is no longer a ship with some guns. It’s a warship that just happens to look like it’s not.”

  Emma nodded her approval. “I think it’s more fitting for me. The jumpship has many charms, but I prefer a sleeker body.”

  Jia eyed the hologram. “Even AI women worry about that?”

  “I also prefer a bigger reactor and more weapons,” Emma replied evenly. “I don’t know how that maps onto fleshbag anatomy. You’re free to make of it what you will.”

  “You want a bigger butt and boobs?” Erik suggested.

  Jia cocked her head to the side, staring at the Argo. “I can see the second one, but wouldn’t a bigger butt be like larger, more powerful thrusters?” She tapped her lips. “Would reactor power be a bigger heart?”

  Emma glared at Erik. “Need I remind you that I
can blow you away with one of the turrets right now?”

  Erik waved his hands and laughed. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist. You set me up perfectly.”

  Lanara grunted. “If you’re done with the bullshit teasing, I should tell you I’ve still got some final tweaking to do on the reactor and shield upgrades. That’ll make sure we don’t have any power issues during normal use.”

  He pursed his lips. “More tweaks? Let me guess, you need to find a point-two-five percent increase in efficiency somewhere?”

  She narrowed her eyes, aiming a finger at him as if she could blast him with a thought. “Those efficiency improvements are going to save your life someday, Blackwell. They’re going to save all our lives.”

  “I know. I know.” He wiped the smile off his face. “Your work already has. I appreciate it, Lanara.”

  “Good.” Her expression softened. “It’ll be done soon. Those two pieces of fresh meat annoy me, but like I said, they’re good at what they do.”

  “Doesn’t everyone annoy you?” Jia asked.

  “Yes, but not everyone is good at what they do.” Lanara waved. “Just so you know, Alina’s been giving me weekly go or no-go messages so I can keep the ship ready to fly. I figured if she wants you on standby, she’ll tell you directly.”

  With that, she walked away, muttering a string of numbers under her breath. The presence of other humans had quickly been purged from her mind.

  Erik kept a smile on his face as he mentally caressed each and every missile and torpedo he could see. He spoke almost to himself as he smiled. “You never know when you’ll need to blow up a lot of ships.”

  Jia wasn’t smiling. “Did you know about the no-go messages, Emma?”

  She shook her head. “I wasn’t aware of those. Engineer Quinn prefers I don’t access her PNIU. It makes her, in her own words, ‘cranky.’ And she doesn’t talk to me about anything not directly related to system upgrades. We’re, shall we say, work colleagues and nothing more.”