The Iron War: A Xander Cain Novel

by P W Hillard

  “You Xander Cain?” The infantryman asked. He had a long drawl to his words, indicative of the planet Tlaloc.

  “Yeah, that’s me.”

  “Hop in, freelancer. You can give a hand showing these Black Rose assholes how it’s done.”

  ***

  The tank cannon fired, the vehicle rocking slightly as it did. It was a good hit, the shell striking one of the enemy QTs. They had fallen on the Black Rose like a storm, fire and fury spraying forth from barrels as they had charged. There was no quarter now, not up here, on the climber, high above the planet. Up here there was only a swift, merciful death. It was better than choking slowly as the air grew thinner.

  Xander lined up the reticule on the camera before him and fired again. It was another clean hit. The armour on the enemy mech had peeled back slightly, the shell penetrating at least a little. The crew had loaded another round, and Xander depressed the trigger a third and final time, this shot punching deep inside the machine. Black smoke poured from the hole as it fell, before being washed away by the winds lapping at the climber.

  The other tanks had fallen almost immediately. They had fired rounds at their counterparts, but their aim was poor, hitting the front armour at the wrong angle, the shells skipping off. The return fire was much more effective, that few seconds delay enough to ensure the shells hit solidly, dealing with the enemy tanks instantly.

  It was more than enough to swing the fight. Having destroyed a QT on their own, the two tanks swung about, adding their fire to that of their comrades. The enemy was pinned in, bracketed on both sides with fire, Meg positioning herself on the opposite flank. With nowhere to go, and with no hope, the Black Rose mechs did something unexpected.

  They each reached down to the side panel in their legs, pulling their field knives free. The freelancers each did the same, readying themselves for a melee. The Black Rose riders lifted the blades, then pressed them into their own chests. It took a few seconds for the blades to dig in, their energy fields glowing hot as they did. They fell forward together, dead by their own hands.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The door to the building closed, sealing the structure so it was airtight. Through the glass, the sky was full of thick clouds. Soon the climber would rise above even those, the sky eventually turning black as the atmosphere fell away. It would be beautiful, were it not for the knowledge of the battles below, destruction hidden by the calm serenity of an azure sea. It was an odd feeling, to see days of conflict punctuated by a stunning vista.

  Xander slammed the butt of his pistol into a vending machine, cracking the glass. Carefully he prised the shattered fragments free, reaching inside and removing great armfuls of junk food. The building they had chosen was effectively a small hotel, with a kitchen and rooms, but it was never designed for this many people. It was lucky the air came from a network of pipes inside the climber, rather than being building specific.

  “You might want to cut back on those, the chemical composition seems rather unhealthy,” Matthias said.

  “You can sense the chemicals?”

  “No, but you’re holding that one backwards, I can see the ingredients.”

  “Right,” Xander said. He still had no idea what the AI was capable of. If it was inside his mind, could it access his thoughts, or control his body? “You’ve been awful quiet for the past few hours.”

  “Well, I’m still settling in, so to speak. Rearranging my code onto the applicable neurons. Don’t worry, this is all free space, of a sort.”

  “Of a sort?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t worry about it. Nothing of value was lost.”

  Xander pulled himself close to the glass, shielding his face from those around him. He had a bad habit of turning a bright shade of red when angry, and right now he was considering slamming his head against the broken vending machine in an attempt to somehow hurt the AI.

  “Those are mine,” he said. “You do not touch my memories. You delete nothing.”

  “How would you even know I had?” There was nothing sinister in the AI’s voice. He was simply stating a fact. “Like I said, it was something you weren’t even aware of, and don’t need. Old instincts for an organ that doesn’t exist anymore. I’m not callous, Xander, I’m not going to run roughshod over your actual personal memories.”

  “I’m not sure I believe that. You made some pretty nasty suggestions when we were fighting.”

  “That’s then. We’re not dissimilar. We’re both soldiers, in a way. Or at least, I think I am. I know I was made to act as a pilot to mech unit interface, I know I was installed on that Paladin. I am designed to assist with achieving victory. I was simply fulfilling my purpose.”

  “That doesn’t make you a soldier. That makes you a weapon.”

  “A semantic argument, I think,” Matthias said. “I wonder what the corporations who hire you think about you. I would argue that perhaps they would consider you a weapon.”

  Xander didn’t know what exactly to say. It was hard to argue with the logic of it.

  “You ok there, Cain? You’re talking to yourself like a crazy person.” Alexi was striding over, a bottle of water in his hand, loot from another machine. “We’re in here for a while, cabin fever setting in now might not be the best course.”

  “At least we’re not as cramped as the other group, they have all the infantry.” Xander took a bottle from Alexi, unscrewing the cap. It let out a long hiss. “Fizzy water? I think I would rather go thirsty.”

  “It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever drunk.”

  “I can't imagine that. I've had some Svarogian vodka in my time.”

  “We’re very proud of our Vodka,” Alexi said. “If you can’t use your alcohol to disinfect a wound, why even bother?” As if to prove his point Alexi tapped at his arm. A bandage had been wrapped around it, red splotching across the cloth.

  “What happened there?” Xander took a swig of the water. It tasted disgusting. Whoever decided water needed to taste sharp was a monster in Xander’s eyes.

  “Nothing major, a little bit of cabin spalling. Metal got stuck in the arm. I've had worse.” Alexi reached down and wrapped his knuckle on his leg. It clanged loudly. He lifted the left leg of his trousers, revealing whirling servos and bare metal beneath.

  “There’s a story behind that.” Xander wasn’t phased by the leg, prosthetic replacements were common amongst mercenaries, not that civilians would know. Most mercs hid them, the stigma around wetware was bad enough, people considering riders part machine at best. Revealing the kind of rugged utilitarian prosthetics most mercenaries favoured didn’t help with that image.

  “There is, one for another time though. Maybe over some good vodka.”

  ***

  Brother Commander First looked upon the devastation. The fire and smoke were overpowering, the smell of burning metal and plastic filling the air. The enemy had carved a swath through the lines, crippling the defence of the elevator. They would need to move on soon, any of the corporations could get brave and try and take the elevator for themselves, and they lacked the manpower to hold it anymore.

  There was a loud scraping of metal as a still flaming mechsuit was dragged out from the burning control centre. Most of it was a melted mess, a slab of molten metal that had once smashed into his lines in a fury. It had made a mockery of them, a predator loose amongst the flock.

  “Our lotus is in shambles, brother commander,” said the man stood next to him. They appeared nearly identical, aside from slight variance in position of the wetware connections that dotted their bald heads.

  “It doesn’t matter, Second, not really. We have thrown this region into disarray, as planned. The corporations have begun to fight amongst each other. Our job is done. The flames of war rage without our stoking. Besides, I grow weary of dealing with these pirates. They have no real dedication to our cause.”

  “What are we to do next then?” Second said.

  “We fall back from this position. We cannot hope to hold it aga
inst another assault. And one will come, the elevator is too tempting a prize.” First turned away from the flames. He was stood in an otherwise empty office, chosen simply for its vantage point over the wreckage.

  “Should we raze the elevator? Destroy the lasers maybe?”

  First shook his head. “No, we may be able to return later, hopefully, the corporations will wear themselves down until they are easy to deal with. For now, we meet up with the other lotuses, consolidate our strength. We have lost the gift of anonymity, no thanks to Xander Cain. The corporations are happy to fight each other, we have given them the excuse they so desperately wanted, but we will not be immune to their vengeance.”

  “I will inform the men to move. Should I order the infantry to do the same?”

  “No. We won’t be needing them. Issue an extermination order.”

  “Yes, First. With pleasure.” Second had a grim smile across his face, a rare show of emotion. “Have we heard from any of the off-world lotuses?”

  “Not yet, but they will succeed, just as we have. The entire Iron Belt will be ablaze by now. We have prepared nearly a century for this. We can’t fail. We won’t fail. This is too important.”

  ***

  Meg was sat on the upper level of the building, her legs dangling over the edge as she looked down at the main foyer, her arms resting on the railing. She had never imagined that agreeing to a redacted operation would result in the past few days. Meg regretted it now, digitally signing that file, finger scratching across the touchscreens that lined the guildhall walls. The idea she had contributed, in some small way, to trying to ignite a war, made her feel sick. She wasn’t a stranger to fighting, no mercenary was, but it rubbed against her ethics in an almost physical way, causing Meg to shudder.

  The others had assembled in the foyer below, dragging the couches closer together. They had found some frozen pizzas in the building's kitchen and had cooked several. There was plenty of food at least, once they had prised open the lock on the big walk-in freezer. There was sure to be a big bill from whatever corporation owned the elevator, if they could ever prove who had taken it. That was a truth of life in known space, the corporations would always get their money. One way or the other.

  Meg watched them from above, this band of mercenaries, laughing and joking. The tank crews had gone to bed after a brief show of bravado between them and the freelancers. There weren't enough beds to go around. For most, travelling the elevator up into the stars was a pipedream, so the passenger spaces were designed for luxury, rather than volume. The lights had dimmed automatically as the clock ticked over into night on the planet below. There was a pale glow over the other freelancers, light cast from a movie they had set up playing on the monitor in the foyer.

  Meg just sat on the balcony, watching. She didn’t feel like she belonged, pressed into service by some arcane guild rule. Not like these three, they had taken the job together, arriving on the planet through a wall of fire that had claimed the lives of colleagues. There was a bond there, one Meg knew she didn’t quite fit into.

  “You going to sit up there moping all night? Or do you not want some pizza?” Anya was pointing upwards at Meg with the tip of her beer bottle. “I mean, if not, more for me.”

  “Yeah, get down here woman. A mercenary after a battle without a beer in their hand? Somethings wrong with that picture.” Alexi let out a booming laugh. He had found several bottles in one of the kitchen coolers. It wasn’t good beer, but it was better than nothing. Alexi held one by the tip, waving it about.

  “Fine,” Meg said. She had the same tone as a teenager who had been told to come down for dinner. “But that better be good pizza at least.”

  “Eh, it’s alright. Not a huge fan of mushrooms,” Xander said, taking a slice. Cheese oozed from the sides, finally snapping as he pulled the slice free. “At least it’s not peppers or something.”

  “Who doesn’t like peppers? They don’t really taste of much.”

  “My point. You want something that adds flavour at least. Ever had moorkin on your pizza? It's this little fish that lives on Athena, weird-looking thing with just the one eye, but tastes delicious.”

  “That sounds, just awful,” Meg said as she reached the bottom step. “I’m not sure I can trust the taste of a man who likes fish on his pizza.”

  “Personally, I find the cheese strange,” Alexi said. “It’s not the done thing on Svarog. Cheese isn’t really a thing there, cows take up too much space in the tunnels.”

  “He’s right,” Anya added. “We just have the tomato sauce. Maybe some meat if you’re lucky.”

  “What kind of meat?” Meg said.

  “It’s best not to ask.”

  ***

  The station high above the planet was as much an engineering marvel as the tether to which it was attached. It mirrored the shape of the climber, two great disks affixed together, though it was much larger. The interior of the station was hollow, the climber rising inside it, seals forming on the underside to keep the air that would be pumped into the chamber within the station. When the climber was due to leave again, the air would be pumped out, the station essentially a giant airlock.

  Around the outside of each disc was a series of berths, large bays owned by various corporations. These likewise were sealed, though each had a door that could open to space beyond, allowing ships to pass in and out. It was here passengers and cargo would be offloaded, embarking on the vessels that would ferry them to their final locations. Some would head within the system, towards outposts and mining stations, whilst others would travel to where incoming jump ships would arrive, attaching onto the massive vessels like limpets as they leapt on to their next destinations.

  For now, no ships passed in and out, sealed inside their berths by an AI who had thought that little bit ahead. With each ship, people were frantically trying to unseal airlocks, the automated arms within each berth affixing everything they could to entryways. Cargo containers, sheets of metal, even parts of other ships, had been welded to the outside, the arms operating beyond their original design.

  When the climber finally arrived, after nearly five days of journeying, the crews were still trying to cut themselves free. They hadn’t even started on the doors to the berths themselves.

  ***

  Xander felt strange. He hated zero gravity, it made everything awkward. Most ships and stations had spinning sections to replicate gravity, though he understood how it would be useful for loading and offloading cargo. His suit was drifting slowly through the air, gliding above the structures spread across the climber. It was almost comical, the massive armoured suits looked like parade balloons as they floated. Infantry hung to their sides, riding the machines like insects. Anya was in front, the loader in her hands. The heavy machine had been picked up like a child’s toy. It was moving faster now than it ever had.

  Xander watched as they approached the berth. Heliustech had been painted across it, and the paint looked fresh, unworn like the names on the others. A new acquisition it seemed. Xander pushed off the ceiling with his fingers, letting his mechsuit land before the doorway. Something felt different about his Defender. It was moving faster, reacting in a way it never had.

  “Matthias, are you doing something to this mech?”

  “Oh, well, in a way. I did increase the efficiency of your wetware, remember? You’ll probably notice faster reaction times. I can interface with the suit if you would like, work some of the functions,” Matthias said.

  “No, not right now.” Xander switched on his radio, the mental command passing through his neural link faster than it ever had. “Let’s get this door open, and see what we’re working with.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The ship was impressive, filling almost the entire bay with its massive bulk. It was much larger than Xander had expected. It looked brand new, the paint still shining under the lights of the berth. The ship looked like a hollow cylinder squeezed between two smaller boxes, the central section mounted to a shaft tha
t connected the boxes by long arms. Once out into space, the arms would spin, providing some semblance of gravity to the people inside. Mounted to the front and rear sections were projectors for powerful anti-ship lasers, whilst studded across the hull were nodules that allowed the jump drive to warp reality around it. Across its side was a name, painted in building high letters. Sunchaser.

  Xander had assumed it would be something smaller, a typical cargo hauler would have barely enough space for the mechs and loader. This vessel would have plenty and then some, the forward and rear sections each hosting doors to cargo holds individually large enough to hold twice their current number. He certainly hadn't expected it to be jump drive equipped. The engines were expensive, almost impossibly so, the jump ship routes still dominating space travel due to cost alone. Ships with their own drives were almost always warships, the vast expense of the engines somewhat protected by thick armour and bristling guns.

  “This certainly is a surprise,” Alexi said. He and Anya were carrying the loader between them, each grasping a side with one hand. “I was thinking maybe it would be a rust bucket hauler, something full of ore and dirt.”

  “Honestly, me too,” Sergei said over the radio. He had reclaimed his position in the cabin of the loader like a captain boarding his ship. “I knew Heliustech had bought a new ship to carry the relics, but I didn't know they had bought something like this. It cost them enough to buy the mining ships that found the lost tech, and one of those exploded. Where did they get the money for this? Why did they lie to me about needing to meet a jump ship?”

  “Well, that doesn't matter now. It's good luck for us, we don't need to wait on a jump ship coming into the system to pick us up. Which is good news, those pirates locked in the other berths aren't going to be sealed up forever. Getting out of this system before they come looking for us seems like a great idea,” Xander said. He began to walk towards the ship. The cargo doors on the front and rear were situated at the bottom, the ship sitting flat to the floor of the berth with its hull directly. Getting inside was simply a case of stepping up into the hold. “Can we get the doors open?”