by P W Hillard
“Could just be keeping radio silence?” Mikal said with a shrug. He pushed the talk button, a small red switch next to a microphone that extended out from the dashboard of the loader. “Mikal to anyone, you hearing me?”
There was only static. It felt like the universe was issuing a reply, a cosmic cringe on Mikal’s behalf.
“Hello? Not the time to fuck about lads.” Mikal let out a nervous chuckle.
“Nothing. So, everything you said was a lie?” Sergei placed his free hand around the wrist of the one gripping his pistol. He had suddenly found his own threatening presence from deep inside himself. “Sounds about right for a pirate.”
“Nah, I was telling the truth. I don’t understand this. Maybe it’s the tunnel, eh? Mucking up the signal?”
“Sounds convenient.” Sergei pointed to the benches at the back of the cabin. “Go sit your arse back down.
***
The drone bobbed as it moved forward. Mitch was adjusting the altitude at random, trying to make it a more difficult target as it approached the corner. It was a sharp bend, but Mitch wasn’t an engineer. Nothing had ever interested him apart from cameras. He had been fascinated as a child, how these objects of circuits and glass could capture an image forever. It seemed like magic, a tiny box-shaped artefact capable of freezing time. That interest had propelled him forward and he had found himself working as a cameraman after failed careers as first a photographer, then an independent filmmaker. Those loves were still there, and Mitch was always pushing for the shoots he was on to be more artistic.
He never imagined his skills would be used in this way, helping mercenaries. It was an interesting new challenge, and Mitch would be lying if he claimed not to be enjoying it. It was nice to be using his abilities for something other than whatever fluff piece would get the most clicks.
The drone reached the corner. Mitch had allowed it to build up significant speed and immediately tilted the rotors backwards to slow it. He wanted it to be exposed for as short a time as possible. His adjustments to the altitude caused the drone to shoot out into the open tunnel at a diagonal.
Shots rang out around it, a storm of bullets flying at the expensive equipment. Mitch had done what he could to increase its odds of survival, but the ferocity of the firepower was unexpected. The camera managed a brief recording, a few seconds at most, before the drone exploded into fragments of plastic and metal.
***
Anya held her mech tight to the wall of the tunnel, edging her way towards the turn. The drone’s footage was hardly necessary, the tunnel had flashed with light and filled with noise as the waiting forces opened fire. It made just too much sense; the turn was the perfect place to form a defensive line. Enemy forces would have to walk exposed into your gun-line.
“Ok, so, what are we looking at?” Anya said. Next to her, Alexi was also creeping along. Meg was walking next to the loader some distance back. The tunnel wasn't designed for mechsuits, barely big enough for them to walk upright at its tallest point. Meg's brand of aerial dramatics was off the table.
“Looks like maybe six tanks? It’s hard to tell, they’re behind what looks like sandbags?” Tamara was squinting at the footage on her tablet as she worked the radio. The grey military vehicles were blending into the concrete. She supposed that must be the point. “There are only three mechsuits though.”
“Dammit, this is going to be a problem. We can’t afford to get into a slugging match. Fuck, I thought Xander was supposed to be luring forces away?”
“There looks like two empty sandbag…emplacements? Is that the right word? Either way, there was supposed to be more forces here it looks like. So, it looks like his plan is working.”
“Not well enough, shit, we’re going to have to try at least.” Anya began to spin up her remaining cannon. She didn’t have much ammo left. Frustratingly there was more in her other arm, now unusable.
“Free…respond…this…legion.” A voice crackled through the radio. Anya had no idea who it was, or how they had gotten the frequency the freelancers had agreed upon. The signal was poor, cutting in and out as the voice spoke.
“Hello, who is this?”
“Freelancers, please respond, this is Hurt, of the Viper Legion, come in freelancers.”
“Hurt, this is Anya, we hear you.”
“Good to reach you, freelancer, we're coming down the tunnel. Try not to shoot us. The boss sent us to give you some backup whilst he helps your boy take the control room with the crazy-ass suit,” Hurt said. He didn't seem phased by his commander joining Xander on what any sane person would think was a suicide mission. It was a sign of professionalism.
“You have damn good timing,” Alexi said. “There’s an enemy defensive line up ahead, behind a blind corner. We were in for right fucking shit show otherwise.”
“Day isn’t over yet. We’ve got three mechs and a whole mess of infantry coming up the tunnel now. If you can hold on, we’ll help you push to the train station and get us really moving.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The air was full of searing metal, a blizzard of destruction swirling around Xander. A squadron of tanks had swung out from behind a building, their cannons blazing as they crept forward towards him, rocking on their tracks as they fired. Xander was trying to evade, returning fire with his gauss cannon as he danced. He had taken two hits in quick succession, the rounds bouncing off the Paladin’s armour. The paper doll in the corner of his vision had started to turn a worrying shade of orange.
“We won’t get many more freebies,” Matthias said. “I would advise against taking unnecessary hits.”
“Really? That's what you would advise? Well, in that case, I'll just stop standing in front of shells then. Should make everything a lot easier.” Xander's voice dripped with sarcasm. The AI was starting to annoy him. He wondered how pre-collapse riders coped with having a voice constantly second-guessing them chattering away in their ear.
“It should yes.” The sarcasm seemed lost on Matthias. “I want to make you aware that I am detecting a wireless signal from the target building. It's weak, but if we can get closer I might be able to activate the target systems remotely.”
“How much closer do you mean?” Xander fired both of the Paladin’s arm-mounted cannons simultaneously. The shots claimed two tanks, the concrete exploding into the air behind them as the projectiles made a mockery of the armoured vehicles.
Xander was trying to be more careful with his aim. They had dropped down into the lowest level of the elevator. The climber lay to his right, raised into the air, hanging on its cables above the massive lasers that provided the power it required. The last thing Xander needed was an errant shot to hit one of the large silver machines, destroying its fragile components.
“Oh, I need to get within maybe two meters?”
“So, within the building? Amazing. Fat lot of use you are.”
“I'm dealing with a vastly reduced level of technology. Imagine you suddenly needed to fight with a bow and arrow? Besides, I think we're doing rather well.”
Xander felt the wreck of a tank crush beneath his foot as he pressed forward. Sandhu and his men were behind him, following as Xander continuously moved the line of battle towards the control centre. It was proving effective, the Paladin was drawing most of the fire. It only took one shot from the ancient machine to prove how dangerous it could be.
“Cain, we’ve got more suits dropping down from the building behind us. Looks like more QTs.” Sandhu had turned, showing his back to the tanks. It was a dangerous choice, the armour on the rear of the suit was thinner, a necessary compromise to allow the reactor to work correctly. It was the right thing to do despite the risk. Awareness was king on the battlefield.
“Shit, not surprising, but that’s a pain. We need to pick up the pace,” Xander said, destroying the last of the tanks with another salvo. Wreckage lay around him, shattered husks of vehicles. The power of gauss cannons was frightening. “Double time it to the control centre. We need
to ge-”
Xander stopped himself mid-sentence as he saw something new trundle into view from further along the ring, emerging from the gap between two buildings.
“Scatter!” Xander commanded the Paladin to leap to the side, his mental signals frantically trying to get the heavy machine moving.
The newly emerged machine was massive, easily five stories. It was like a moving building, a fortress of steel creeping along on armoured tracks. It was stepped in shape. On the higher back section, a fearsome turret was sat, a triple barrelled rotary cannon of incredible size swinging over a pair of regular size tank turrets that were sat on the lower step. Along its side was a set of doors, a sponson sat next to each, with a third resting in between the doors. Each of those carried a cannon, adding to the machine’s absurd firepower. Scattered over its hull was a series of lumps, twin machine guns poking out from each like a deadly rash.
Xander had seen a super-heavy mobile fortress like this only once before, back when he was still part of the Corsairs. They were rare expensive things, owned by only a handful of corporations. They had been built as a ground-based answer to dropships, a machine designed to punch through enemy lines and disgorge mechsuits to cause carnage. They had proven generally impractical, tempting targets for orbital strikes despite the fines, though they had been used as mobile siege weapons to some success.
Xander’s warning was too late. The fortress fired, the three barrels of its gigantic turret spinning as it spat a burst of rounds taller than a man. Merton was too slow. They tried to move, but the ground exploded around them, concrete and asphalt spraying to the air like a geyser. The mercenary spiralled through the air, legs torn from their mechsuit, crashing into the ground with enough force to shatter the armour along one arm. There was no need to check if Merton was still alive. Mechsuits were designed to absorb impacts, protecting their rider, but a collision like that was too much. The rider inside would be pulp, splattered across the cabin.
“Fuck!” Sandhu had spat out the word like it had forced its way up through his throat and out through his mouth. “Xander, take it the fuck down!”
Xander didn't need to be told. His Paladin had landed from its leap sideways, feet skidding across the ground, spraying sparks into the air. He fired, snapping off shots from his cannons. His aim was off, the shots intended for the ferocious main turret. Instead, they hit the side of the fortress. The darts pierced the thick armour of the machine, but the inside was a hollow area designed to carry mechsuits. It was just superficial damage.
Almost in answer to Xander’s attack, the doors on the side of the massive vehicle dropped down, internal catches releasing them. They fell forward from their own weight, bouncing slightly as they crashed against the ground. Three mechsuits strode forth, disembarking from the fortress. Xander could see that it should have been four, one mech still hanging from the clamps that held it in place during transit. One of his shots had punched clean through the torso. Behind the destroyed suit, the armour was dented, the round beaten by the second layer of thick metal.
One of the riders emerging from the fortress was different. Whilst their two comrades were the same unmarked QTs, they rode something different. It was a sleek black thing, its armour plates all jagged edges. It looked sharp, dangerous, like it had been made of daggers. Xander recognised the design, it was an Ophidian Hydra, an expensive high-end suit. Ophidian considered itself to make the sports cars of mechsuits, pretentious overengineered things, but with considerable performance.
“Enemy vehicle is adjusting its turret, I estimate it is preparing to fire another salvo,” Matthias said.
“I see it.” Xander fired again, this time at the mechsuits before him. It was an impossible choice, the suits or the turret equally as dangerous. The Hydra had a matte black finish, a level of customisation unseen amongst the Black Rose suits. Xander knew instinctively it was another mercenary, and a dangerous one. He was proven right as the Hydra made a short hop, jump jets firing, propelling it forward. Xander’s shot went wide as the enemy landed, jets still firing for a moment causing it to skate across the asphalt in a spray of golden sparks.
Sandhu ran past the Paladin, Briggs following close behind. They were sprinting towards the fortress even as its smaller cannons tracked them, weaving in a serpentine fashion to evade the shots. They had the right idea, the main cannon of the fortress was limited by the bulk of the machine. If they got close it was impossible for it to shoot them.
Xander felt his mechsuit shake as a burst of rounds hit it. The left arm of the paper doll flashed red, the armour starting to fail. The shots had come from the QTs that had followed Xander down from the shopping plaza. They were trying to navigate the chasm the fortress had blown into the ground, exposed pipes and cables filling the hole with dangerous terrain. It would slow them, but not forever. Things were rapidly getting out of hand.
He began to run, copying his allies. The fortress would at least provide a level of cover, working against its own forces. Xander briefly wondered who exactly was funding Black Rose if they were able to afford such an insane war machine. He pushed the thought to the side, that was a problem for another day.
The Hydra was moving quickly, snapping off shots as it positioned itself to intercept Xander. His opponent wasn’t stupid, they knew that keeping Xander’s Paladin within the effective range of the fortress was the best chance of dealing with the relic. The QTs had pursued Sandhu and Briggs, but the Viper Legion riders had reached the enormous tracked battleship and had turned to engage them. Even battered as they were, Xander would put his money on the mercenaries to win a fair fight any day.
“Ok, just me and you then,” Xander said. He knew that wasn’t strictly true, but he was forcing himself to focus. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
The Hydra shouldered its weapon, standing motionless for a moment. It was waiting, biding its time. It knew that when Xander fired, he would aim not at the Hydra, but at where he thought it was going to try and dodge towards. It was a lethal guessing game, one that neither could afford to lose.
“Xander Cain, I’m assuming.” The Hydra had spoken through its external speakers. “I mean, you must be. My employers are particularly pissed at you and your interview. To attack the elevator would need the same amount of solid brass balls.” The voice was deep, male, the speakers adding another layer of bass.
“Nice suit. Working for these assholes pays well then?”
“Extremely. It’s not as nice as the one you’re in though. That thing must be worth millions. I know the rumours say you’re a bit mad, but this proves it.”
“Stand down and you can still live. I can report to the guild you attempted to fulfil your contract. Everyone is a winner.” Xander was focused on the Hydra, on the way it shifted on its heels, each tiny movement altering his decision of where to fire.
“Fuck the guild.” The Hydra adjusted the position of its hands on the weapon it held. Xander had touched a nerve. “You make better money outside of the system anyway.”
“Ah, a blackmark then, that explains it. What did you do then? Back out on a contract?”
“Fuck you. At least I’ve never killed my brother. How the fuck did you stay licenced?”
“Wit and charm,” Xander said. Every moment he could hold the Hydra’s attention was precious. Sandhu and Briggs had already dropped one of the Black Rose mechs, and the second was faltering.
“I have a rather pertinent suggestion,” Matthias said.
“Not now!”
“Transferring suggestion to the HUD.”
Images appeared in the corner of Xander’s vision, a small cut out box highlighting what the AI meant. Xander couldn’t disagree, it was a good idea.
He didn't wait any longer, bringing up his gauss cannons. He could see the Hydra crouching slightly, getting ready to spring out, away from where it thought Xander was going to fire.
Magnets surged with power as electric pulsed within them, their grip tugging on the ferromagnetic band wrapped t
ightly around a tungsten dart. The dart launched from the rectangular barrel, its velocity giving it terrifying kinetic energy.
The Hydra dodged to its right, a quick burst of its jump jets assisting it. It had gambled on Xander firing to the left, the angle slightly elevated, drawing its conclusion from the way the arms of the Paladin had shifted. The Hydra rider was right, but Xander’s shots were not at him.
Matthias had been eagerly studying the fortress, calculating what it could about the machine from the Paladins camera footage. He had examined the main cannon, fascinated by the engineering required to make the impressive weapon work. This fleeting interest had led to the AI logically working backwards, extrapolating what it could about the design. This was the first of two things he had shown Xander.
The darts punched through the armour, hitting the turret in the location Matthias had highlighted. They struck the shells that had been loaded into the cannon. The darts generated massive heat as they fought against the friction of the air, and the shells exploded. The explosion cascaded, the stores within the fortress forming a secondary blast. The machine exploded, the force of the blast knocking the three mechs fighting by it to the ground.
As the shockwave washed over him, Xander broke into a run. He raised his left arm as the Hydra struggled to stay upright. Shots slammed into the arm, the blackmark’s aim good despite his stumbling. An alarm blared within his mind as the limb fractured, the arm’s synthetic muscle behind the armour tearing. It hung limply, but Xander had expected it, intentionally using his most damaged arm as a shield.
Xander had closed the distance between them in seconds. The cannon on his right arm slid back, freeing up his hand. As it did, a thin rod of metal stretched out from the forearm, a section of the armour rising to allow it. It expanded telescopically, reaching out three meters past Xander’s hand.
Xander swung the rod at the Hydra and the enemy suit brought up its weapon to block, hands gripping tightly. There was an orange glow as the rod sliced through the autocannon in an instant. The weapon was impressive, the same energy that powered field knives flowing around it, stronger, more powerful. Xander brought his arm around as the Hydra staggered backwards. The blow severed the suit at the waist, the two halves sliding apart, friction holding them together for a moment. Xander didn't hesitate, jabbing the thin foil into the centre of the torso. It sank straight through instantly. Xander realised that Matthias was right. Field knives were a brutal, barbaric weapon, a slow agonising kill. This had been instant, merciful in comparison.
