The Sentinel: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Hunter's Moon Book 3)

by Walt Robillard

  Marco sighed. “There’s a robotic frame. We have back-up AIs to fly the ship. Re-skin and jump with us when we drop in. Why is this hard?”

  “It's not. I just wanted to see if you would be as loving and supportive to us as you were to Nikko. You got this whole family dynamic down, General.”

  Somewhere in the depths of his helmet's coms, Marco heard a digital snicker. “You suck and don't call me general. Let's move.”

  Marco looked past the cargo ramp. From the Promise of Dawn he could see the Echo Company commander. It was good that old Frank had fathered a family. He remembered him as a younger man fighting in a far off jungle against the horrors that had come from deep space. It felt good to know he could give the man back his granddaughter this one time.

  The repulsors kicked hard, thrusting the ship high above the building tops. Everyone aboard was magna-locked to the deck, ignoring most of the momentum from the boost. It crept forward, slowly gaining speed so as not to break their limbs outside the inertial dampening systems protecting them. The ramp remained open during the flight so that they could deploy quickly without waiting for Ares to drop it. The city rushed beneath them. Rows of clothing strewn everywhere, antennae adorned buildings flowed by in neat rows running along power lines set into the street. It reminded Marco of the time they'd invaded Nasdra Yon, turning a forest of white topped brown trees into a battleground.

  “Almost to Objective Hornet!” Ares called over the com.

  Marco ran from the back of the shuttle to the flight deck to get a clear view of the battle space through the cockpit. He called up Corvin's icon in his display. “Lioness. Hit it!”

  A thunderous energy pulse blasted from a building on the outskirts of the City Center wall. It burst across the force shield, showering the surrounding street in sparks.

  Marco yelled into the com, “Bolt it until you see the wall burn!”

  A drumbeat of phosphorescent bolts pelted the shield, the rebounding array of sparks hot enough to burn the stone on the buildings closest to the wall. Parts of the buildings came away as slag under the onslaught of the particle projection cannon.

  Four hawk-shaped gunships rose over the perimeter, flaring weapons across the breadth of their frames. Three of the drones pelted the lancer fighting position, the shots from their pulse cannons rebounding off of a shield at ground level. Missile pods rotated into position, brandishing a stack of projectiles ready to fly. The fourth drone aimed itself at the incoming Promise, firing its repulsors in micro adjustments to get the cleanest aim.

  Marco raised his fist at the Viper Wing Dynamic Defense Drones, aiming the Crucible along the length of his arm. They wavered in the air, fighting an unseen force for control over their piece of the sky. The first three ships recovered from the unexpected turbulence, each firing a missile toward the lancer's position. There was a flutter around the weapons, dropping them almost twenty meters before the engines ignited.

  Too low to evade the wall, the missiles burst into a bulbous flash of smoke tinged flame that coughed out a mushroom cloud one hundred meters high. The detonation bounced back from the force field, decimating buildings on the protected side. The facades blew apart under the fiery hurricane, ripping them down to their foundations. At the same time, the PPC overloaded the shield, blowing into the same section hit by the missiles. The concussive shock wave ruptured the wall, sending enormous chunks of alloy back through the ruined barrier. Buildings still left standing behind the perimeter were razed from their moorings, littering the streets in all directions.

  “My turn,” Ares whispered into the com.

  Weapon batteries of all makes and manner of ship-borne violence exposed themselves to the rushing wind against the Promise. Twin rotary cannons spun up to deliver their payload at twenty bolts per second. A flurry of missiles were let loose, chasing the scattering Vipers. They evaded in four different directions, each defying the missiles' orders to kill. The first drone to die attempted to hug the ground, throwing off the missile's tracking system. It ran straight into the lancer's line of fire, scattered into billions of blazing pieces from a PPC hit. The first missile locking onto a new target intercepted the next, splashing it as it tried a frantic climb.

  That left two missiles to chase the third drone while the fourth ship took a run straight at the approaching medium assault shuttle. The Viper flew by, tricking the missile to lose its lock by supplanting it with the Promise. Marco had seen it work on other ships that Ares wasn't piloting. There was also the matter of their ship having IFF markers which prevented this type of tactic. Sorkabi should have bought a smarter class of machine.

  The missile and ship banked to avoid hitting each other, leaving each free to ride on to complete their objectives. Ares banked to one side, avoiding the fiery debris falling from the third ship succumbing to an explosive double tap. Athena and her team were treated to a fireworks display as the vehicle carcass crashed into the street.

  “Athena, deploy in three, two, one, go!” Ares shouted into the com.

  The back end of the Promise descended, swinging into the hole left by the combined assault on the shield wall. The ramp never even touched the surface as the Dreadmarr spilled from the deck into a defensive position, waiting for Ares to dust off. Repulsors flared, bouncing the ship back into the air to chase their next objective.

  Marco dropped into the cargo bay beside Ajax, bringing up Corvin's icon. “Lioness, Athena is just outside your position. Link up with her and proceed inside the City Center to take Objective Hive Garden. All other forces will be directed to work with the Citizen Guard to retake the fortress. All Dreadmarr elements, this is the Path!”

  In the depths of the Crucible, Marco could feel them swell with pride as each one formulated the traditional response echoed since the Dreadmarr were formed. “We know the Way!”

  Ares interrupted to give an update, “Sorry to butt in on your rah rah moment, but we are twenty seconds from Objective Hornet King.”

  Both Ajax and Marco shook their heads.

  “What?” Ares demanded.

  They both pointed at the last remaining Viper Wing trailing its missile, chasing them on their orbit around the city.

  “You wanted your moment,” Marco said with more than a touch of sarcasm to his voice.

  “Hang on!” Ares said smugly. The ship dove toward ground, closing the ramp. Inertial dampeners engaged, taking the strain from the g-forces pushing against his passengers. The ship unleashed a missile, the snap-whoosh of disengaging from the harness and activating the flight motor a familiar sound to the trio. The ship shuddered, jostling them both as something buffeted the hull. There was a series of explosions outside that rattled the deck, like flying through a storm. The main drive engines screamed in protest as the ship climbed again, dropping the ramp to display them leaving the beach on their way over the supply depot en route to the City Center.

  “Lure the bogey into a low flight path straight into a missile induced geyser?” Ajax asked.

  “Epic moment achieved,” Ares said, appearing in the cargo bay with his brothers.

  “If you're done being proud of yourself, suit up and turn over the ship.” Marco, said pointing over to the closed compartment set into the wall.

  The doors slid open, revealing a robot reminiscent of the CR-335 Vindicator used by the lancers. It was lanky, with a V-shaped torso and an upside down triangular head dominated with a sensor eye running along its visor. The bot released itself from its securing pins, walking along the wind buffeted deck on magnetic feet. The frame came to rest under the hologram, which changed shape to match Marco's armor with blue accents as well as a black brush crest set between black horns.

  “Oh, I like this!” Ares cheered as the trio jumped.

  The door to the private hangar bent inward, crumpling with the impact of a kick delivered with myo-fiber muscles set into cyber-strand cording. The flaming hoof stepped onto the slate floor, dripping molten metal from the myriad enemies Ajax had killed on his way here. Hi
s voice echoed under the cavernous dome roof of the hangar.

  “Dono Sorkabi, there is nowhere to run. Surrender or suffer!”

  Dono was working with a horde of men and bots to clear an obstruction caused by part of the roof collapsing. Bits of it were still on fire, the men dousing the flames to make the various types of debris easier to handle. The ship on the tarmac was a Praesian Venna-Star, the kind of private luxury ship enjoyed by politicians and high paid media stars. While boasting a decent level of armor, the Venna-Star wasn't a combat ship, so it probably wouldn't survive trying to blast through the remains of the destroyed roof.

  Marco and Ares came through opposing doors in the side of the structure. Marco was covered in grime and dirt. Like Ajax, the seams of Ares’ armor glowed a brilliant blue, highlighted by ash-colored smoke wafting from them. His helmet was almost entirely engulfed in ethereal fire, with his crest, horns, and golden eyes piercing the blaze.

  The sight of the gruesome trio was enough to spook most of the workers. They seemed to lose focus, trying to decide whether to stay for their general or run for their lives. Sorkabi made the decision for them. “This is what you are afraid of? Look at this foreigner come to our home to put us in the street, or worse, the grave! Stand strong. We are Doshu. Our blood is the soil, not theirs. They have no connection to this land. This is our home. One chance, Shaytan. Walk away or I feed you to the dust!”

  “Hera has eyes on the outside. We need to find cover!” Ares yelled into the com.

  They slipped back through their respective entrances, not bothering to address the gang of men at the end of the runway. The hangar closest to the government building was offset by two other buildings. One was a defense tower that protected the hangar while the other seemed to be air traffic control. The weapon's tower had been damaged along with the roof during the Promise of Dawn's flyover. The AI piloting the ship had been instructed to target the hangar roof so it couldn't open. Taking out the defense tower was just smart thinking.

  “You think Nike could have hit this any harder? We barely have anything left to hide behind,” Marco said.

  “Hey! Don't talk about my daughter that way,” Ares retorted, rounding the corner to the traffic control tower.

  “Sorry, your baby AI is doing great on her first run.”

  Ajax poked Marco's shoulder. “Are you trying to be supportive, again?”

  “I hate both of you,” Marco said, trying not to laugh.

  From inside the hangar, the trio could hear the crowd inside shouting. Curses were mixed with directions for work, along with the occasional pause for Sorkabi to hurl his own venom at them.

  “You see this? These outsiders think we're stupid because we don't have what they have. They think we're less than them and they can push us around. Look at them hide when they realize how wrong they are!”

  “How wrong are we?” Marco asked.

  Ajax answered by pointing. Approaching them from the avenue leading to the government building was a behemoth clad in gun-soaked rage. Easily twice the size of a thumper, the creature slapped the ground on two musclebound legs as thick as power loaders. Its massive arms looked like they could rip a building in half. A maw that could swallow a Rhusk warrior whole through a field of knives masquerading as teeth, spread wide to display the flesh from an earlier meal. Set over its shoulder on a thick harness was a ported, metallic backpack. Running from the bottom was a series of cables linked into heavy blaster cannons on gyroscopic mounts over each shoulder.

  “Please tell me that's not what I think it is,” Ares said as though he'd locked his ship and forgotten the entry codes.

  “A Drodassa Khan dressed in weapons with a control harness on its head? Oh, it's what you think it is,” Ajax replied nonchalantly.

  “Great. Who, in their right mind would dress up a Dro-Khan in a bunch of guns and let it loose?”

  “We have bigger problems,” the horse headed warrior said, pointing to Marco sitting on the ground behind the broken bits of the building. The brothers penetrated the lion's visor with their enhanced optics, taking note of his far away expression focused on anything but the imminent threat stomping toward them.

  LOST REGIONS – LAST EXODUS WAR

  Marco awoke to a ceiling that appeared as if someone had taken vines and wove them together. Wherever he was, the vines were giving off a pleasant scent from the flowers growing from the tangle. He couldn't move. He didn't feel restrained. His body just wasn't listening to any commands.

  “You are safe, Marco Sorrin. No more harm will come to you.” The being hovering over him reminded him of a two and a half meter tall scorpion with a torso rising out of its abdomen. The head looked like that of a preying mantis while its arms ended with a similar structure except for scorpion claws where it's wrists should be. The creature hadn't talked, it had spoken to him in his mind.

  “Where am I?” Marco asked, a hint of fear coloring his tone.

  “You are in what the Core Worlds would call a hospital. It is part of the hive that you saved with your sacrifice.”

  “Am I dying?”

  The creature moved its head, mimicking the human tilt that spoke of misunderstanding. “That would make me a poor doctor. Why did you fight so hard to protect our home? What was in it for you?”

  “The Exile Fleet is here for something in your planet's biology,” Marco answeed. “Something they can use to make themselves more dangerous. They don't care how many of you they have to kill to get it. I made a promise to someone that I would stop them from hurting anyone else, or die trying.”

  “Your daughter?” The scorpion's thoughts soothed his worried soul, bringing images of his baby girl to the forefront of his mind.

  “Seladriel.”

  “A beautiful name. You fight for her?”

  Marco took a moment to formulate his answer. He was angry for the atrocities he'd witnessed as the Exiles burned their way across the Frontier. There was something resplendent about the way she acted toward him. He felt the regal aura surrounding her and he wanted to seem less like an angry ape during the first time this hidden people interacted with humanity. “I fight because the Exiles won't stop. They're locusts and they'll consume anyone they come across to get what they want. We tracked them here. At first we thought they were just after resources when we couldn't detect a society. Then we heard you in the Crucible, and we knew we had to burn them out.”

  “We call it the Union,” His caretaker said, proudly. “It was lucky for us that you could hear our call.”

  “Not just their call, your majesty, yours.”

  The creature had been working over something away from what he could see. She slowly turned to fill his vision, hovering silently for a moment before responding. “I am Yanassa. I am the queen of all the Higgathi. How did you know?”

  “Nothing is hidden in the Crucible,” Marco whispered

  “This is true. You fought with blade and your magic to drive off the invaders to save your people and mine. They are in the next valley, mourning your loss while they prepare to attack these… Exiles… again. They are unaware you survived. Regardless, we owe you our lives.”

  “You owe me nothing. I did the right thing. But if it means so much to you, please help my brothers, Reese and Jackson. They're leading the regiment if they think I'm dead. Please, find them and let them know I'm hurt, but alive.”

  “I can do more than that Marco Sorrin.” She lifted a thing that looked like a meter long millipede. Its legs were grasping at the empty air along with mandibles that were biting in vain against Queen Yanassa's grip. “These creatures were ancient when your civilization first crawled from the oceans. If I let it attach itself to you, it will heal your broken back and so much more. It is a lightning rod to the magic you call the Crucible, and a well of souls to those it has joined with before. You will be reborn within a remarkable fury, able to wield forces your body alone would not be capable of. We call them Lion Spines, which I feel is fitting since your men call you the Lion.”
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br />   “Does it take over? Will I still be me?” Marco asked.

  “It joins with you. It will become a part of who you are as you both tread the galaxy, together. It will help you stand when all others fall, defy the storm when the wind takes its toll, and keep you strong despite the limitations of your natural age. This is the greatest gift I can give an outsider who fought for us as though we were his kin.” Yanassa said.

  Marco let the weight of her words play over in his mind. Nothing in the galaxy was free. At some point there would be a debt to pay. There was always a debt to pay. “And what would this cost me?”

  “There would be no cost as this is what is right. But consider, this creature is Higgathi, and as such, you would forever more be joined to us and thus burdened with our responsibilities.”

  His answer came without hesitation, “If this gets me back to my brothers, I accept. Besides, there's something beautiful and powerful about your people in the Crucible. How can I continue to learn if I'm confined on my back?”

  “It makes me happy to hear this, although I must apologize.”

  “Change is pain?” Marco asked, more to himself than to her.

  “Yes, and you must face it...”

  “Marco! Snap out of it!” Ares screamed across the street. “Now is not the time to have a flashback!”

  “Has this been happening a lot lately?” Ajax asked, frantically switching over power reserves to charge his energy shield. The Dro-Khan's massive pack held a multi-launcher system capable of blasting hordes of micro-missiles. They'd taken one salvo as the creature plodded toward them. If it was only the creature, the horse-formed warrior wouldn't be worried, but there were two chicken-legged thumpers walking behind it. They were heavily armored Donovan Robotic Assault Mechs and if he had to guess, there was someone on the inside controlling the beast through the slave harness lashed to its skull.

  “Not since his last time out, with the Dreadmarr. He got roughed up,” Ares said.