Steel Breach

by Casey Calouette

  "Think we're going to make it without a fight?"

  "I certainly aim to try. The last thing we need is to get bogged down in a firefight three hundred kilometers from nowhere. We could run into those Cion tanks again."

  "Everyone has AT loaded, it shouldn't be—"

  "I will be a problem, it's real armor, not that antiquated junk the Kadan creep around with. If we duke it out with them we're going to be outclassed. They have energy shields and a lower profile. Hopefully they don't have any anti-armor units."

  "We'll see, I'd wager we'll give 'em hell."

  There was a knock on the fire suppression shield. Colonel Clarke lifted up a plate and leaned down. Major Bresov looked up. "Artillery is ready on your call."

  "Thank you, Major," Colonel Clarke said. "All right, Commander, let's roll with it."

  "Oorah!" Arap called back.

  Colonel Clarke dropped out of the turret and into the tight confines of the crew compartment. "All yours, Shifty. I'll be on the headset."

  Shifty grinned and climbed up into the commander's position.

  Colonel Clarke squeezed into his seat and placed the headset gently on. He keyed it live and a second later the view was like he stood outside. His hands drifted and he picked up a more basic view from the leading tank. "Give me Squadron comms," he said quietly.

  "Squadron is live, just hit your comms key, sir," the communications Sergeant said.

  The comms channel went live and every tank received the broadcast. "Squadron, listen up. In two minutes the artillery is going to open up all across this front. But specifically they're going to clear us an exit South. The key is speed, don't stop to engage unless you are in serious danger. We need to get clear of this area, and fast. The Eight Army is counting on us to break them out, we can't do that by picking a fight with every Kadan we run into. You all did exceptional on our last engagement, now let's do the same."

  Colonel Clarke disengaged the comms and leaned back into his seat.

  "Artillery starts in three, two," Major Bresov said.

  Then the artillery opened up. It was an organ of iron and steel. A sound that was a massive crashing of waves on shores, of rending metal, tearing ice, and a shockwave that rolled through the frozen ground.

  Colonel Clarke yelled above the roar. "Move out!"

  The artillery crashed down in the darkness. Gouts of frozen dirt and snow blasted up with sizzling hot shrapnel glinting in the snow light. From one side to the other a barrage more massive than anything seen in months rained down. But it fell particularly hard in a line heading due South.

  The lead tank blasted across the trenches and steered directly into the blast zone. Geysers shot into the sky just ahead of the column. They raced through the blasted lands three wide and stringing back fourteen rows. One tank dropped down into a hole just as another raced out the other side. On they went, oblivious to the symphony of destruction raining down in the dark.

  Colonel Clarke held on tight. The command tank rocked and bucked. No sooner had they crested a rise than they slammed into the bottom. He grunted as he cracked his helmet against the hull. The viewscreen shimmered for a second then refocused.

  A bag of rations rocketed out of the darkness and crashed to the floor. No one was able to stand up to do anything and soon it smelled of pickles and cheese.

  The roar of the artillery hammered around them. It was preordered and the artillery raised the guns at a precise rate to allow the armor to keep moving ahead. This time though instead of leaving a line back they followed up with another barrage right behind them.

  A roar sounded from behind. The comms crackled and buzzed in his ear. A single weak voice spoke but he couldn't make out what they said. He turned his head and looked to the rear of the column. More geysers shot into the sky.

  His heart slammed in his chest and he tried to swallow but his mouth was dry. The hammering of rounds shook everything and he was caught up just watching the explosions. He didn't try to fight to motion of the tank, but settled himself into the synthetic leather seat and moved with the armor. He was helpless now and felt it inside of him. Nothing to do but trust the armor.

  "Contact! Armor!" a voice cried over the comms.

  Colonel Clarke sat forward and braced himself. "Move and engage, but god dammit don't stop! What is it?"

  The crew comms were live and being broadcasted to the entire squadron. "Stop, let me hit that fucker!"

  "Don't stop, belay that, just keep moving."

  The rattle of the main cannon blared. There was a roar, then the crackle of comms.

  "They got the main cannon, fuck! Fuck!"

  "Hit the smoke! Give us cover!"

  "Open the hatch! Open the hatch! Savlov is hit. Fuck, it's burning. Let me out!"

  A gunshot rang out over the comms. "Don't open that fucking hatch, keep moving."

  The comms clicked off a moment later.

  Colonel Clarke cleared his throat and keyed up the company commanders. "This is Jailbird, give me a status update." He waited and listened to the roar of the artillery raining down.

  "Alpha clear."

  "Bravo is 100%."

  "Charlie, one unit damaged, still operational."

  "Delta, clear."

  "Echo, uh, we're down one. Status unknown."

  "Fox is flying, we're looking good."

  Colonel Clarke clenched the comms key. "Echo? Confirm your loss."

  "It's confirmed, artillery hit 'em, we had visual," a monotone voice called back.

  "Shit," Colonel Clarke whispered. "Carry on, we're almost through."

  The ground leveled and the armor raced ahead. One-by-one the vehicles flew out of the crater field. The artillery barrage followed close behind with the geysers running right up to the full range. Then the artillery stopped.

  Colonel Clarke grabbed his water bottle and took a swig of the icy water. His throat was parched and his hands shook. He keyed up the comms once more. "Squadron, good work, we're through. Now give it everything we've got. It's time to fly."

  They continued through the snow and over the rolling hills. The wind and snow buffeted them and obscured their tracks almost as quickly as they made them. The first landmark they came to was the railroad track. They saw it in the distance and kept it on one side. On the other side, a dozen kilometers away, rose a mountain range that shot up vertically nearly 18,000 meters. It was an amazing barrier.

  The night passed and still they raced on in the gray winds of dawn. They stopped once on the first day just long enough to swap drivers and let everyone stretch. The terrain, from a distance, looked like a puffy quilt. Up close, though, it was low gullies, rolling hills, and the occasional ravine. The last offered the most difficulty and what started as a movement three wide turned into a single track with one tank leading the way.

  And then they got stuck.

  Colonel Clarke stepped out into the dying light of day and looked all around. Empty. He couldn't think of any other word. Even the snow didn't stick around. "Stuck?"

  "Looks that way, sir," Major Bresov said. She clapped her arms around her and smoothed her facemask.

  Colonel Clarke made his way to the front of the column. At each tank he stopped and conversed with troops outside. In the very front he watched the recovery vehicle struggle pull a unit free from a muddy spot.

  One of the Engineers marched up and pointed into the mud hole. "Freshwater spring, sir, water is percolating from underground."

  Steam rose from the mud hole. The entire front of the now free tank was a mass of crystalline mud.

  "The whole area?" Colonel Clarke asked. If it was the whole they'd have to rethink the route and they didn't have the time to backtrack.

  "No sir, but whoever is leading the way better be sharp."

  Colonel Clarke stumbled back through the crusted snow and pushed inside of his tank. He shivered and his teeth clacked together. "Get that miner, the one who trained our drivers. He's the lead 'til we're clear."

  Major Bresov nodded a
nd grabbed her commset. "Bravo CO, put Bulldog on point. Colonel requested that unit personally, tell them not to get stuck."

  Colonel Clarke stared down at his watch. How long could Reach hold? He wasn't worried about getting there anymore, he was just worried about who'd be in control.

  #

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Pyrus - Low Orbit

  They woke one morning and the starship was quiet. The subtle almost ultrasonic throb of the drives was gone. Coolant and liquids rushed through pipes and the alloy hull groaned.

  Umi stared up at the screen and studied the map. It was an orbital view with shadows obscuring half of everything. He could pick out streets, gantries, and buildings. The longer he stared at it the more came into view. It was like a massive jigsaw puzzle overrun with greenery.

  "It was in this building," Lady Atli said. She tapped a crooked finger onto an overgrown building that was larger than those around it.

  Riga stepped up and ran his fingers on streets and walkways. "We could land here, or here."

  "Scratch number one, greenery is too tight," Blaser said.

  "Number two is farther," Vaughn said.

  "Are the roofs structurally sound?" Kelly said.

  "I don't know," Lady Atli said. Her eyes glowed in the reflection of the massive screen.

  "The cutter has a mass of sixty of your metric tons," Sevel said. He stood behind the humans with his claws clasped before him.

  Umi whistled. "Big fat thing it is, we go in at number two. Spot number one is the backup. If all else ,we go up onto the roofs for pickup. Can that thing hover Sevel?"

  Sevel wrinkled his nose. "Hrm, maybe."

  "How many teams?" Captain Kolich asked.

  "One," Umi replied. "And you're not on it. You stay up with Lady Atli."

  "Captain Umi, I'm a combat trained Vasilov Officer—"

  "Who won't fit into our tactics. I'm not going to work with an outsider on this one. You stay up top."

  Captain Kolich crossed his arms.

  "Get suited up," Umi said to the Sigg mercenaries. He walked off the bridge and closed his eyes as he passed through the tight hallway. In the first few days he'd gotten lost more than once. Then one day the layout clicked and everything made sense. Excitement? He could feel it in his chest, just below his heart. He missed that feeling.

  They strapped into a light tactical load. None of them wore body armor. They stuffed every single bit of ammunition they had into the vests. This, unfortunately, wasn't a full complement.

  Umi led them into the cutter and sat immediately next to the door. The rest of the crew filed in and sat down. No one said a word. Sevel entered last and sat in the very front, the bulk of his body looking too large against the ship's cockpit. The Lokeen gently set a commset onto his head, then the hatch closed.

  "Ya know," Riga said, "I always thought space travel would be more fun. It was kind of boring."

  "What'd ya expect?" Kelly said. "A fucking open bar? Jesus Christ, it's an alien ship."

  "I know, right? It's like those old boats, those big bastards way back when. People all in suits with top hats and funny ties. They looked," Riga waved a hand in front of him, "elegant. They looked elegant."

  "Ain't nothing elegant about you," Blaser said.

  "T'was the golden age of sail you speak of," Sevel said. He pulled on a heavy lever and there was a loud thud. "Or the golden age of steam. Before they even flew, it took them months to cross the oceans on Earth. The ships were beautiful. Iron and steel and wood and steam. They had names like Indomitable, Lusitania, Titanic."

  Riga bent a thumb toward the front. "He knows his shit."

  Sevel turned around and grinned an alien grin with all his flat teeth bared. "I do. Now hold on."

  Then the cutter dropped.

  Umi had flown in choppers that crept over the nap of the earth just meters from death. He'd survived a crash where his tank rolled down a three hundred meter cliff. He'd spent a dozen gut wrenching days at sea waiting to land with only vomit to keep him company. None of it compared to the extreme violence of the cutter dropping to the planet below.

  At first it was a shudder. The shudder grew into a roar that blasted into side-to-side shakes. Alarms blared throughout the cutter and it smelled of toasted steel. The cutter shook up and down.

  Tollefson, the only one not wearing a safety harness, bounced of the ceiling and then crashed against the floor. He grinned past bloody teeth and locked his arms onto a support beam.

  The ride smoothed out and Sevel shouted back. "Get ready!"

  "Lock and load!" Umi said. He couldn't wait to get off the cutter, his stomach was a mess.

  The cutter swooped in low and the thrusters roared. The hatch opened. Humid air flooded inside on the winds of rich greenery. It smelled of dirt, mulch, and a sickly sweet tang of rotten fruit.

  "Gitty up!" Sevel yelled.

  Umi turned to Kelly Dell with a confused look on his face.

  "Go, go! Leave the cutter!" Sevel yelled.

  Umi rolled around the corner of the hatch. Intense green blared back at him, a mix of fauna and flora that was more like something from a jungle. He judged the drop to the ground and hopped out. The moment his feet hit the ground he was off and running.

  The ground squished under his feet. He didn't stop running until he was underneath a cracked metal roof. The rest of the team raced into cover. The cutter slid through the air then disappeared into the haze above.

  The silence was overwhelming. Not a single breath of wind stirred the massive green leaves.

  "Feels weird," Kelly said.

  "Feels dead," Riga added.

  Umi picked out a crumbling skyscraper and scanned with his monoscope. He could just make out scorch marks, places where the material looked melted, and gaping holes that disappeared into darkness.

  All around them was the debris of violence. Shallow craters, shrapnel scars coated in lichen, curiously smooth holes in metal. The patina of age and water had worn everything down, nothing was straight and smooth but almost organic again.

  "Skyscraper there," Umi said. "Landmark North. Now let's get moving." He keyed up his comms. "Sevel, we're moving."

  "Stay safe!"

  "Tolly," Umi called to Tollefson. "Point."

  The giant of a Sigg soldier walked along the edge of the street with a shoulder close to the crumbling walls. He held a heavy barreled rifle with a rotary magazine hanging beneath it. The way he walked was the way a professional walks, not slow, not plodding, but deliberate. Each step went exactly where he wanted it to. There was no bravado but a quiet pace.

  "The hell happened here? Musta been one helluva drunk," Vik said. The stout infantry leader squatted down and picked up a corroded piece of metal. He studied it a second and tossed it away.

  Riga cradled his sniper rifle and walked near the rear. He paused at a patch of mud. "Cap?"

  Umi called a halt. "Whatcha got?"

  Riga traced his finger along an animal track. "Track, it uh, cat like, maybe? Six toes, claw imprints."

  "Big?" Umi asked.

  "As big as my hand," Riga replied.

  "That's our darling," Blaser said.

  Umi stepped close and stared down at the chocolate brown mud. The track was smooth, the barest of an imprint. He was sure he'd never have noticed it himself. "Good work Riga."

  They moved through the silent street and no one said a word. The insides of the buildings were a jumbled mash of destruction and heaped decay. Almost all were so broken down that no path inside was possible. They sidestepped a sinkhole and stared down into an inky abyss. Metal rails glittered in the darkness with vines hanging down.

  Something crashed far in the distance and they froze. Echoes rumbled through the buildings.

  Riga knelt down and put the scope to his eye. "Lotsa hiding places, Cap."

  Umi felt a tickle on his neck. "Time to pick up the pace."

  They jogged to the edge of a wide open square and hid in the cover of a collapsed wal
l. Wind stirred at the haze broke. Sunlight poured down and the earth steamed.

  Umi wiped his face. Perspiration beaded up from every pore and the clammy air took on a decidedly unpleasant feel. "I think that's the place."

  A building, different design than the rest, crumbled on the far edge of the square. Collapsed hulks of vehicles and machinery was strewn throughout the square. A mass of wires and cabling weaved across the space above. The building was completely collapsed on one edge, but the other was still intact. A wide set of door had been blasted open.

  Riga clicked his teeth. "There."

  A creature prowled across the far side of the square. It was a massive animal akin to a tiger, but with a shorter snout and chunkier legs. It had no tail. Its fur was mottled and sequential like a camouflage pattern. It paused for a moment and raised its snout.

  "Get ready," Umi whispered.

  "Already am," Riga said. He peered through the scope and held his breath.

  The animal spun in a circle then loped away.

  Riga released his breath.

  "Let's go," Umi said. He jogged with his weapon almost to his shoulder. Wherever his eyes went the muzzle of the sub-machinegun followed. He passed what he thought were vehicles before finally coming to the entrance.

  Green corroded brass shell casings littered the ground. A Vasilov machinegun sat alone near the side of the door. The barrel was almost entirely red with rust.

  Umi raised his weapon up and stepped carefully into the darkness. His eyes adjusted to the gloom and he knew it was the right place.

  A case sat in the middle of the room. It was plastic and bore the mark of the Vasilov Army. Scattered throughout the entry way was skeletons in body armor and Vasilov combat uniforms. Not all of the skeletons were still whole.

  Riga crouched in the doorway with Tollefson on the opposite side. Vaughn slung his weapon over his shoulder and popped the latches on the case. The rest of the team covered the entrances and exits.

  "Fucking creepy," Kelly said.

  Umi stared down a hallway. Shafts of light poked through and illuminated everything in an odd light. Motes of dust danced in the thermals. Something moved and he raised his weapon.

  Inside of the case sat a carbon black cube. Markings were scrawled on one edge with a line of slender connectors on the other. A blue light pulsed on one corner.