by M. D. Cooper
Urdon sat in the co-pilot’s seat and forced his hands away from the controls, trusting his people to get him to that critical location.
Urdon merely raised his eyebrows at her, his body rocking with Moira’s adjustment. She sent the vessel plummeting, then shot forward, the move accompanied by the fizz-pop of chaff, and the thunder of an explosion as Wren dispatched another RPG.
Urdon suppressed a shaft of amusement at his associate’s bloodthirsty fascination, and then dismissed it from his mind as he spied the tower on the ship’s main holo.
He sent his thanks as her avatar appeared on his overlay. He grabbed it and shunted the general into a private peer-to-peer connection.
* * * * *
Shadows ran across the mouth of the subterranean maglev tunnel, and the Veef separatist beside Katelyn yanked her back, pulling her to a crouch beside the mech frame that Aaron controlled. Katelyn held her breath, heart pounding, as one of the shadows hesitated. She exhaled as the shadow moved on.
The Veef in front of them turned and sent a questioning look at his partner, who nodded, and he crept forward to the mouth of the tunnel and peered around the corner.
Aaron dropped a hand on Katelyn’s arm, and she spared a glance his way, knowing the AI was prepared to pick her up and carry her if it turned out they had to run again. Given that she was the only one of the small group who was unarmored, this method had become the most expedient way to dodge local patrols still loyal to the Federation.
The man relaxed and looked back at the other Veef with a smile before stepping out into the street. “It’s okay. It’s just Ted—”
Katelyn recoiled as the man’s head exploded, blood spattering her face from the spray. Her stomach lurched—whether from the gore now dripping from her face or from the sudden movement as Aaron lifted her, she couldn’t tell.
The next few moments were a blur as they raced across the boulevard and disappeared in the warren of side streets and alleyways that made up the heart of Old Tarja, on the east side of the newer city center. A shot pinged off the mech frame, eliciting an involuntary flinch from Katelyn. She tucked her head and curled in her hands and feet, trying to present as small a target as possible.
Shortly, the sounds of weapons fire were replaced with the steady thud-thud of Veef boots and mech steel. They had outrun the federation forces again.
The AI’s reply was tentative, but he released her, letting her feet drop back onto the pavement while keeping one hand on her arm. Another two of the four remained locked around the NSAI node, keeping the cube secure.
The Veef still with them sucked in a lungful of air, and turned to them, her face pale and shaken. “This damn war is pitting brother against brother,” she spat out. “It’s so wrong.”
Katelyn reached out a hand. “I can relate,” she assured the woman. “And you’re right. There’s so much wrong in the Sol System, I’m beginning to think the colony ships had the right idea by just pulling up roots and abandoning it.”
she said, pulling her shirt up to clean off her face. It came back a brownish-red, and she suppressed a shudder of revulsion, dropping the fabric and turning to survey their surroundings.
They could clearly see the tower now. It was close…so close that Katelyn had to bend backward as she lifted her head to see all the way to the top.
“How much longer until we’re there?” she asked the separatist as she began pacing around, looking into the windows of nearby shops and offices.
The Veef blinked, expression still stunned, but then shook her head, coming back to herself. “Just a few more blocks. I’m surprised they’re still finding pockets of resistance, actually. Thought we had this area pretty locked down.”
Katelyn pulled up short as her Link announced an incoming transmission from Wren. She shot Aaron a glance and received an affirming nod from his avatar.
Katelyn took a deep breath and planted her hands on her hips before turning toward their Veef escort. “Guess it’s time to move on again.”
The woman nodded, and they moved down the street to the next intersection. They were just starting to cross it when a flash caught Katelyn’s eye. She looked up to see an incandescent ball streaking through the air toward them.
The TSF had launched something massive—and it was coming down just across the river.
RIVER CROSSING
STELLAR DATE: 3227476 / 06.06.4124 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Tarja, Teka Continent
REGION: Venus, InnerSol, Sol Space Federation
The suns were coming up as Williams glared at the towering spires that dominated Tarja’s city center.
“What are you thinking, Gunny?” Jansen asked from his shoulder, where they crouched atop a four-story building at the edge of the River Serya.
The tributary that lay below them snaked through Tarja before joining with the Damascus to the north. It was roughly seventy meters wide and crossed by dozens of bridges, all controlled by the Veefs and Diskers.
“I’m thinking we might be at the end of our stealth. If the enemy is halfway competent, there’s active scan watching those approaches. No way we can get across without them spotting us.”
“We’d be picked off, that’s for sure,” Jansen agreed. “What about the water?”
“You think they don’t have anything down there?” Smith’s tone was doubtful.
Jansen shrugged. “I think they’ll have less.”
“Except if they do pick us up, we’re fucked,” Williams replied. “See those trucks on the bridges? Those things launch airbreathers and torpedoes. They spot us, and a minute later, we’re a red fountain. On
ly other way, though, is to take the maglev tunnels….”
“Which is another great way to end up dead.” Jansen pursed her lips. “If Taylor ever catches up, maybe we can do another diversion.”
“Maybe.”
Williams doubted that would work. There were enough enemy troops controlling the bridge that attacking one would just make the defenders at others more vigilant.
Dvorak’s voice broke into his thoughts, and he turned to where the Marine was crouched next to a satellite comm transceiver dish.
There was a pause, then Lauren spoke again, her tone mollified.
“Fuck!” Williams chewed out the word, wishing that he’d ended Jones and worrying for his Marines at the same time.
A coarse laugh broke past Williams’ lips.
A few seconds of silence followed Williams’ demand.
A grin split Williams’ lips. He knew the enemy would likely shoot a couple of them out of the sky, but even two AB-99s would tear up the enemy lines.
There was no response, and the sergeant glanced at Dvorak, who shook his head.
Williams had a sneaking suspicion the commander had killed the connection on purpose. That meant he was operating under the former rules of engagement, and also under the purview of a MICI agent.
I can’t go pell-mell, but we can get shit done.
“So, what’s the word?” Agent Smith asked as the team gathered on Williams’ position.
He was surprised the MICI hadn’t just tapped the comms and listened in—then again, he probably had and was just being polite.
“Commander is pushing toward our position, but she’s a ways out. Starfire is out of the question, so we’re pushing through the old-fashioned way.”
“Shit, really?” Cassar groaned. “I know people like to say ‘One city, one Marine’, but it really is a bit harder than that.”
“He looks too happy for that,” Jansen said. “Something else is up.”
“Yeah,” Williams grunted. “By ‘old-fashioned’, I meant ‘hammering them till they’re pulp’. CO’s dropping a quintet of AB-99s.”
“Oh fuck yeah,” Murphy thrust a fist in the air. “Now we’re gonna kick some real ass.”
“If they reach the ground,” Jansen muttered. “Diskers have a shocking amount of AA stacked up around here.”
“They’ll make it,” Williams said in a voice that carried more surety than he felt.
A bright light flared on the western horizon, increasing in strength until it was as bright as one of the suns creeping into the sky in the opposite direction.
Launches flared around the city, heralding the defenders’ attempts to shoot down whatever was bearing down on them. Toward the northwest, trails of smoke indicated Marine counter-air launches.
Missiles struck missiles over the western suburbs, raining fire and debris down on the city. All but four of the Disker weapons were knocked out of the sky, those remaining streaking unerringly to the glowing light on the horizon.
A second later, the light split apart into five distinct objects, each one twisting and turning through the skies. Williams knew they would be firing chaff and other countermeasures to avoid the missiles.
A brighter flare bloomed, and the AB-99 drop pods were obscured for a moment. Then four glowing objects burst through the haze, now only ten klicks away.
“Get ready, people,” Williams warned.
Flashes came from the pods as final braking occurred, then explosions came from overhead, followed by a sonic boom that trailed after the falling tanks.
It happened too fast to see, but Williams knew that the pods’ outer shells had blown off, taking on momentum from the inner cocoons that held the tanks. Those fired more braking burns and then dropped like stones, two on either side of the building.
Cassar, Murphy, Dvorak, and Kowalski ran to the far side of the roof and jumped off, their fully-powered armor able to handle the drop without issue.
“Hop on,” Jansen said to Williams. She stopped at the roof’s edge, and he grabbed onto her shoulders.
They sailed out into the air, coming down next to one of the inner cocoons as it peeled open, revealing its precious cargo.
AB-99s were some of the meanest pieces of equipment the Marines had at their disposal. Squat, wide bodies, three-by-five meters, sitting only a meter off the ground. Twelve spider-like legs provided movement, and could bring the thing up to just shy of two hundred kilometers per hour. Or climb a tower.
The tanks’s bodies bristled with weapons, most notably a pair of forty-centimeter DPU-firing railguns.
“Time to bring the pain,” Williams said with a grin.
The tank could fit two, but Smith held back. “I’ll stay on foot,” the agent said.
“Never ridden in one of these before?”
“Oh, I have,” Smith replied. “Just prefer to remain more mobile.”
“Suit yourself,” Williams said as he accessed the tank and passed his creds.
One of the personnel cocoons opened up, and inside lay a suit of powered armor.
I guess Lauren does like me.
The Marines already had the other three tanks on the move, so he let Kowalski direct them while he connected to the armor and remote piloted it out of the tank.
&nbs
p;
Williams made it into his armor in record time, and just over two minutes later, was in the AB-99, turning it around to join the rest of one/one.
There was a bridge one kilometer to their left, and another two klicks to the right. Both were probably preparing for an attack by the AB-99s. There was at least a full regiment in the streets behind the team, and Williams was more worried about being hit in the ass than about the Diskers and Veefs guarding the bridges.
A round of ‘Oo-rah’s met his orders, and Williams skittered his AB-99 forward, dropping a mine in the street for any foes who planned to investigate the drops.
Williams sent an affirmative response and set a map of the streets near the river on his HUD. Two rows of low buildings lay between his position and the waterfront. He drove the tank forward, weapons swiveling to aim down streets and alleys as he moved past.
No enemy signatures appeared, and he began to feel a growing sense of unease. Four tanks dropping nearby should have had the enemy mobilizing everything they had to deal with the threat that was about to become very real and present.
Or they were just going to wait for the Marine hardware to show itself and rain missiles on them.
The sound of AA fire echoed down the street, and Williams saw that Cassar and Murphy were spraying flak into the air while Kowalski and Dvorak advanced on their first target. With the right flank under control, he turned his attention to the left where Jansen and Cheng had already passed by the first bridge, teasing it with indirect fire before moving on to the next one.
