by P W Hillard
The foil retracted into the arm, the cannon moving back into place as Xander approached the Viper Legion mechs. He allowed Briggs to grip to his side, using the heavy Paladin to balance as he rose.
“Fuck me,” Sandhu said. His suit was near black, covered in soot that was falling around the fortress. A fire was raging inside the remains of the gigantic tank. The shattered remains of the turret had slid off onto the ground nearby. “Maybe a warning next time?” He thumbed over the shoulder of his mech, mechanical hands delicately interpreting his movements. The second QT was laying on the ground, a jagged shard of fortress embedded in its chest.
The brief reunion was interrupted as a round hit Xander in the leg. The Paladin stumbled, its weight shifting awkwardly. The QTs behind them had navigated the man-made chasm, approaching their position. Xander tried to move, his left leg not responding as it should. The suit limped, something was severely damaged.
“Leg function impaired. Walking is not recommended,” Matthias said. He had adopted his more formal tone again. “The ligament is torn, not fully, but the blasted thing will snap sooner, rather than later.” There it was again, the shift in voice. “We need to get moving, sharpish, if we want to make the control room.”
“Fuck,” Xander said, mentally opening the radio channel. “My leg is fucked I think.”
“Just go.” Sandhu bent down, snatching up the autocannon from the fallen QT. He held a weapon in each hand, firing both cannons at the oncoming force. “That thing still has the best chance. We’ll buy you the time.”
“Yeah, we’ll teach these arseholes a lesson or two.” Briggs had already moved behind the burning fortress, using its still impressive armour for cover.
“You guys are helping me on this, I’m not leaving you behind.” Xander didn’t like it. They had all known that it was a difficult ask going in, but it still felt wrong to him.
“We've still got Legion guys who need you to get that climber moving. You know what that's like, your company are your brothers. You more than most I would imagine.” Sandhu was stepping backwards, firing each weapon in an alternating pattern. The enemy was closing in and outnumbered the Viper Legion two to one.
“Yeah. Yeah,” Xander said, starting to limp away. “The maintenance access to the climber is sixty meters north. You better be on the damn thing when it starts moving.”
“Same to you.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The anticipation was palpable, a physical presence that gave the air a strange resistance. The newly reinforced convoy escort was positioned by the blind corner, readying themselves to attack. They didn’t have much choice, this was the only way forward, and they needed to get moving again. They knew that around the corner the enemy forces were doing the same, bracing themselves for the coming fight. The oncoming violence had a strange kind of potential energy, the release of which felt both terrifying and thrilling in equal measure.
“Ok,” Anya said, spinning up her cannon. “Suits focus on suits. We’ve got them outnumbered. If we take them out, we can deal with the tanks at our leisure, they’re not going anywhere.”
“That's a lot of cannon fire coming our way as we do that.” Alexi had pulled the field knife loose, his borrowed defender holding the blade in a reverse grip. He had fought in tight spaces like this before and knew how it would end. It would become a brawl, a desperate close-quarter fight for survival.
“We haven’t got much choice.” Hurt had appeared to have taken on the role of leading the Viper Legion contingent. “It’s a solid plan, considering the circumstances.”
“Well then,” Alexi said, twirling the knife through the fingers of his suit idly. “We better get a move on then. Don't want to keep Cain waiting.” The blade returned to its downward-facing position.
***
A great roaring thunder echoed through the tunnel as the Black Rose forces opened fire, their adversaries charging around the corner. They had known they were coming, the destroyed drone a warning as much as anything. They had waited here by this turn deliberately; it would force attackers to walk out directly into their barrage. The corner was a killing field, useful as their number was depleted, some of their units pulled to defend against a frontal assault on the elevator complex.
Despite their careful preparation and their expectant trigger fingers, the ferocity of the attack was a surprise. The enemy had timed their assault well, suits held tight to the turn swinging around the corner in time with those running further away, presenting multiple targets. It dulled the initial barrage, the pirates piloting the tanks splitting their fire amongst them. A more professional squadron would have followed the lead of a designated command tank, focusing their shots. Shells landed home, damaging armour, blasting a leg loose from a white and red suit, but they had robbed themselves of confirmed kills.
The enemy was on them now, running past the line of tanks, weapons firing at the mechsuits. The turrets of the tanks followed, swivelling around to get a bead on the vulnerable rear armour. It was a mistake. An understandable one, everyone knew hitting a suit from behind was more effective, it was a common cliché in action-dramas, the mercenary stabbed from behind by his friend. It was another sign of inexperience. The tanks had damaged a mech, tearing its left leg from it, but it wasn’t out of the fight.
In their haste, the tanks had committed the same sin they had intended to punish. Though each tank had a machine gun mounted on a pintle attached to the top hatch of the turret, they lay unused. The tanks had been adding bursts of machine gun fire to their salvo, launched from a co-axial gun, but they were clearly under crewed. Now, their weapons turned away, the infantry of the Viper Legion could show them exactly why, in an era of towering war machines, a guy with a rifle and a flak jacket could still be a potent force.
The infantry swarmed, supported by the damaged suit, the machine pulling itself along the ground with its arms. One tank stopped dead as it’s hatch was pulled open, a grenade tossed inside. Another exploded, soft plastic explosive affixed to well-practised locations. The suit disabled a third, field knife slicing through the engine.
In moments the balance had shifted. The Black Rose mechsuits were on the back foot, their riders outclassed. They were fighting hard, snarling animals backed into a corner, lashing out at those around them. They were outnumbered now, five suits to three. Weapons barked, the flashing of muzzles lighting the tunnel. At this close range, cramped in by the surrounding concrete, it was impossible to evade. Rounds hit armour with a clanging that seemed to fill the air.
One of the Viper Legion mechs collapsed, crashing into the asphalt below. Its front armour had cracked from a hit, a second shot punching through the weak point. The armour had blossomed outwards like a flower from the blast, smoke pouring from the gash as it had fallen.
The return fire claimed one of the Black Rose QTs. A shot hit the left shoulder joint, the armour already sheared away by strikes. The force caused the suit to twist awkwardly and Anya released the last of her ammo, a storm of bullets ripping apart the side of the suit.
The other Black Rose mechs were quickly overwhelmed. Surrounded they found themselves gripped tightly by the enemy, mechs in vice holds as killing blows were delivered by field knifes. It was a grim execution, oddly perfunctory.
Like that, it was over, that lingering violent energy released in a brief vicious battle. The infantry had finished dealing with the tanks with the aid of the damaged suit. They had managed to capture two of them, dealing with the crew without damaging the vehicles. The limbless suit was opening, the mercenary inside intending to transfer himself to one of the tanks. The machines had trundled away from the sandbags, their new crews turning them to face deeper into the tunnel. They still had a long way to go.
***
It took longer than Anya would have liked to clear the way for the loader. Destroyed tanks and suits needed to be pushed out of the way, sandbag bunkers disassembled by a few swift kicks to allow the loader to pass. Anya had added the barrels of her c
annon to the pile of debris, picking up a handheld autocannon from one of the fallen QTs. It wasn’t her style, but it would have to do for now.
The fight had gone a lot better than she had expected. They had lost two mechsuits but had gained two tanks. It wasn't exactly a fair exchange, but Anya had expected to pay a much higher price. They had lost one of the Viper Legion riders, but otherwise, everyone else was unhurt. Anya was happy to count that as a major win.
“Not bad, really. I expected worse,” Hurt said. “All the losses are on my side though. Valent was a good rider, she’ll be missed. We gave these fuckers a kicking in return.”
“Still some more to be done, I would expect more enemies at some point.” Anya was still on point, the loader rumbling behind her. The last drone hovered by her shoulder, just in case. “I dread to think what this would have looked like if Cain wasn’t causing trouble up above. There were empty sandbag emplacements. Units have been moved. Good for us for now, but it means they’re somewhere else. Could be further along the line.”
“Better to take them on piecemeal.”
“True.”
“Besides,” Hurt said. “That machine, the one Cain is riding. Is it really all that?”
“Fucking hell yes,” Meg said, butting into the conversation. “That thing is insane. Its guns punch clean through a mechsuit, single shot and that’s it. Popped open like a cheap tin of beans. I reckon the bald fuckers up there are shitting themselves.”
“Put a little terror in the terrorists?" Alexi said, snorting with laughter at his own bad joke. “They deserve it.”
“Well, let's get to that train,” Anya said, increasing her pace as she did. “Maybe then we can see it in action.”
***
The train station wasn't what Anya had expected. The tunnel had continued for a bit, the convoy blessedly undisturbed, until it had expanded, merging with the tunnels that contained the tracks. Two tracks were running alongside each other, the asphalt forming a slight ramp to the edge of the platform. Above, mounted to the ceiling, was a set of runners, a crane arm on each. The station, despite being designed for cargo, still had some basic amenities, benches and vending machines, probably intended for the drivers that would ferry the cargo down the tunnel. At the far end of the platform, the tunnel resumed, eventually leading back out onto the streets above. Anya had been expecting something more elaborate, instead, it seemed charmingly basic, just enough to get the job done.
The train itself had two large engines, each a dirty boxy thing covered in grease and grime. Sandwiched between them were objects that could only charitably be called carriages. They were large flat platforms studded with what looked like clamps designed to lock cargo containers into place. There was four of them total, less than Anya expected, though perhaps that meant there was simply more trains on the circuit.
“Ok, let's get the loader on there, second carriage. Put the tanks on the third. Two mechs on each of the others. Get some men inside the engine, see if they can work out how to get it moving.” Anya had somehow wandered her way into being in charge. She wasn’t surprised, Anya was not oblivious to the fact some people considered her a cold, stern, hard-hearted woman. Part of it was because that was the stereotype of Svarogian women, but it mostly because it worked in her favour as a mercenary. A no-nonsense reputation was useful. She considered herself lucky, Svarogian men were widely thought to be dangerously reckless, an image not helped by several popular web videos.
“Got it,” Hurt said. “We've got a combat engineer amongst the infantry, they're our best bet at getting this thing moving, I think. I'll hold the back, if the scout mech wants to join me? Probably best to get the heavier units upfront.”
“Fine by me.” Meg was already climbing aboard the train. Her suit crouched, her free hand gripping the side of the carriage for support. “Reckon I’ve already used up all my luck in this damn tunnel. Glad we’re not fighting mercs, they would have plugged me instantly in that cramped space.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“Well,” Anya said as she began to walk towards the first carriage. The weapon in her hands looked comically tiny compared to her heavy mech. The weakness of her powerful suit was showing, Anya had expended all her firepower in just a few days. No missiles, no more spinning furious cannon fusillades. “I wouldn’t exactly say we were lucky. Hell, our lot lost a bunch of good freelancers on the way in. Everything about this situation sucks. Even if we get off this planet, I think I might be fucked financially. No way my pay from this covers my ammo expenditure and repairs.”
“Yeah, I don’t think Black Rose is going to be keen on paying me considering what’s happened,” Meg said.
“This mechsuit isn’t even mine. My suit got totally trashed. I was forced to use a shitty QT I salvaged. We’re all in the shit.” Alexi was following the loader as it crawled up the climb.
“Right. Advantage of a company I guess, the Legion will cover all our expenses.” Hurt took up a position opposite Alexi, the men keeping a watch over the heavy orange vehicle as it crossed over the small gap between platform and carriage. The last thing they needed was for it to get stuck.
“All my colleagues fucked off when this started.” Tamara was visible to the mercenaries as they crouched near the loader, her finger on the radio button before her. “And running a station solo is beyond even me, honestly. I gave it a good try though. Money problems all round it seems.”
The carriage clunked as the loader clambered onto it, the tracks rattling the clamps running across the floor as it crushed them beneath metal links. There was a loud rumbling as the front engine sprang to life.
“Looks like we’re good to go. We can moan about money later,” Anya said. “For now, we focus up. We’ve got a job to do. Even if the pay is shit.”
Leaked Heliustech Correspondence
Heliustech – Your friends in the Belt!
Here at Heliustech, we’ve been servicing the mineral needs of Hades for seventy years, and in that time, we’ve learned what’s important. Family, friends, the chance at a good life. That’s why we at Heliustech are launching our new outer belt mining initiative, and we need you to join us on this journey to the stars. Share in this opportunity with us, as we reach out into space.
We're recruiting across the board for roles on our new cross-system venture. Enjoy three months of cruising aboard our ships as we take a leisurely real space trip to the outer belt. Experience the thrill of a lifetime as you delve into untapped asteroids. This is an unprecedented opportunity, and you get to be part of working somewhere no other corporation has touched. Now is your chance to trail blaze your own path into the stars!
Heliustech investors report excerpt.
Initial projections for the quarter are down, but we were to expect that, the expeditionary fleet was a considerable expense. Still, we feel that we'll meet our profit forecasts for the year, especially once the fleet begins mining the outer belt. Our research division is confident that there are untapped deposits there. They better be, we put a lot of money into this.
Uptakes on the job postings for the fleet were…disappointing, though I’m informed that we have sufficient staff once we cut a few corners. Rival corporations going onto webcasts and stating the trip was unsafe and a waste of time didn’t help. I’ve already got the legal team looking into a libel case against them. I know the other corporations look down on us as this new upstart, that’s despite our seventy years of operating this year. I suppose when you compare that to the centuries some of them have, they aren’t wrong. Well, perhaps it’s time the old codgers moved aside for the young blood, hey?
We’ll see how they feel once we start raking it in from the outer belt.
Heliustech – A statement.
At Heliustech, we’re happy to admit when we’ve made a mistake. When things go wrong, we own up to it. We’re not afraid of making the tough decisions. That’s why, when we learnt about the loss of the Chariot, one of our ships heading to the outer belt, w
e know we needed to do the right thing.
Starting from today, the immediate families of the lost miners will receive large compensation payments, enough to make sure they are protected for life. We believe it is what the crews would have wanted. Heliustech accepts that mistakes were made, and pledge to do better next time. We’ve already tightened our safety procedures after this horrific accident and have decided to retrain all our staff on what to do in the event of a reactor meltdown.
No one could have predicted this tragic turn of events, as we thoroughly deny the various news reports on the web claiming that the Chariot was understaffed and underfunded. Safety is our number one priority.
Leaked Heliustech Internal Memo.
This whole thing has been a fiasco. We’ve been forced for years to live off the scraps the other corporations decide to throw us, and when we finally decide to strike out into the big leagues and the whole thing goes tits up! We’ve spent so much on those ships, on that mission! If they don’t find anything of value, then the whole company is in the shit.
We’ve been in the red for years. Cooking the books so we look good. I have no idea how we’re going to hide this cost. We tried to skimp on the pay-outs as much as possible, had them all sign NDAs, but even then, that was an unexpected cost. More importantly, even if we do find something of value, it's halved our production and shipping. Honestly, we better find the deposits research thinks are out there, something amazing, or we're fucked.
