Mecha Rogue (7 page)

The Demons took a step forward, their Fusion Handshake ports glowing with deadly blue power. Matt's guts twisted in fear. Even if Mikey and Marjan's Mesh was stable, they couldn't control their emotions in Mesh. They might spool up, out of control.

“May I remind you that you're addressing your commanding officer?” Jahl barked.

“An officer earns respect. He doesn't simply command it. Isn't that so, Major?” Marjan asked, through the comms. His Demon reached out as if to grab Matt.

Colonel Cruz's voice bellowed over the comms. His
PERSONAL/CONFIDENTIAL
icon flared on the slate. “That's enough, Adepts! Stand down!”

“That's not fair, we're just having some fun!” Mikey said.

“You've now earned the right to sit on the bench for our upcoming exercise,” Cruz told them. “Major Lowell, I recommend you send them in only if you need assistance.”

“But, sir!” Marjan protested.

“Sir, we didn't mean nothing, sir,” Mikey chimed in.

“Ah, so I'm ‘sir' now. Your attitude is unbecoming Mecha Corps. I repeat, I am recommending you sit out the upcoming mission.”

“Sir, please!” Marjan cried.

“It is up to Major Lowell to decide on my recommendation, or to determine if you should have any additional disciplinary actions,” Colonel Cruz added. “However, my recommendation will go on record.”

Marjan's Demon stood and saluted Matt. Both of the giant Mechas looked down at Matt expectantly. Matt licked his lips. Could he safely leave them behind on this mission? He didn't have enough information, beyond the enigmatic deploy-and-wait-for-more-orders instructions. But he wasn't going to say that in front of his adepts, or in front of Cruz.

If Cruz recommended it, he must know what to expect, Matt thought.
Or at least I hope so.

“Agreed with your recommendation, Colonel,” Matt said. “As long as I can have the assurance they will be ready to back us up if needed.”

“We will hold all Mecha at readiness on final Displacement,” Cruz said. “They will be ready.”

Matt nodded. “Agreed.”

The two Demons stiffened, but no sound came from Peal's slate. Their Mesh Effectiveness readings wavered, but never fell out of the eighties, as their emotions ran wild.

“Acknowledge your orders, Adepts,” Cruz told them.

“Acknowledged,” Mikey said.

Several beats later, Marjan's rough voice added his own “Acknowledged.”

* * *

Matt waited in his Demon, deep in the rush of Mesh. Deeper perhaps than he'd ever been before. The imaginary talons of the thing inside the Mecha scratched at the surface of his mind as the smell of dust and the prickle of static came sharply to his senses. At this point, he almost welcomed it. He had it under control.

Maybe it's not a ghost in the machine at all,
Matt thought. Roth insisted it was a reflection. And maybe it was—a reflection of himself.

Matt studied the Mission Brief projected in his viewmask, searching for meaning. Nothing had been added since they deployed from Earth. It still read:

ORIENTATION/MISSION BRIEF

Version 0.0.1, 22.04.2322

GENERAL INTELLIGENCE

System 0195-GX7A-1023 is (redacted).

ENVIRONMENT REVIEW

Planet 5 of System 0195-GX7A-1023 is semihabitable, with a frozen surface overlaying liquid oceans beneath.

OFFWORLD: (redacted)

ONWORLD: (redacted)

CURRENT SITUATION

Developing. Union military intelligence will advise as necessary.

OBJECTIVES

Deploy to specified markers and await orders.

KEY TEAM

COLONEL Cruz, UUS Helios Strategic Command

MAJOR Lowell, Mecha Corps Leader (Special)

And that was it.

Matt scanned the readings from his team. All were stable, with Mesh Effectiveness in the seventies and eighties. Marjan and Mikey were stable, not spiky at all. Was it possible they'd gotten past Cruz's admonishment?

I hope they see some action,
Matt thought.

“Prepare for final Displacement,” Colonel Cruz said on the public channel, his voice oddly hushed.

Matt switched the focus on his viewmask to the UUS
Helios
's external sensors, which showed a close-packed star field with multiple tags indicating stars within one to three light-years. One of them had to be tagged 0195-GX7A-1023, but he couldn't see it.

The stars changed. In front of them, a star jumped to the fore, shining with pinpoint-pure white radiance. That meant they were still far out within the planetary system. Cruz was really being cautious.

“Hold for spectral recon,” Cruz told them on the public channel.

Matt's heart echoed in the gel-filled chamber of the giant Mecha, beating the seconds away. Ten, twenty, thirty. Nothing changed in the star field. No messages came from the bridge. Matt began to think this was just a formality, that they were just being overcautious.

“Prep for—” came an unfamiliar voice from the bridge, tagged
COMBAT INTELLIGENCE
. Before he could finish the sentence, he was cut off by a deep, reverberating boom from the comms.

Impact shock rattled through the Mecha Dock's expanded steel decking. On Matt's viewmask, the external view tracked several new objects, which moved blindingly fast across his POV. Each was tagged
HEAVY-MATTER PAYLOAD
.

Four more of the heavy-matter rounds hit the
Helios
. The ship reeled and sensors went offline, patchworking Matt's POV. Damage assessments began scrolling on-screen.

“Orders to deploy, sir?” Matt shouted at Colonel Cruz.

“No! Hold! We're not in close enough!” Cruz snapped. Then, off-mike, “Helios gunners, target at will with heavy-matter guns.”

The
Helios
hammered as its own guns came online. New tags swarmed outward in Matt's POV. Small points of brilliance marked where they took out the enemy heavy-matter rounds. Others sped on, presumably toward the source of the bombardment.

“Hitting us so far out. That means they've compromised the deep-space defense systems,” Colonel Cruz told Matt, his
PRIVATE
comms icon flashing. “That means they have everything, planet on out. You should expect to take fire as we Displace into orbital deployment range.”

“Yes, sir,” Matt said. “Who are ‘they,' sir?”

Cruz's comms icon snapped off without an answer.

Tags traced the UUS
Helios
's heavy-matter rounds to their targets. It was like watching the universe's slowest virtuality game. Eventually red markers flared at the
HEAVY-MATTER EMPLACEMENTS
and listed them as
DESTROYED
.

“Targets eliminated,” Combat Intelligence told them. Hold for additional assessment.” Thirty seconds passed. Sixty. No other heavy-matter payloads came their way.

“System secure,” Cruz reported. “Prepare for planetary Displacement.”

* * *

As UUS
Helios
Displaced into orbit around Planet 5, it rocked under heavy fire. Matt's Demon had to grab a railing to stay in place. Dust clouds filtered out from the raw stone walls of Mecha Dock, just beyond the expanded steel grating. The asteroid was taking a real pounding, despite its extensive armor.

Outside, Matt's screens showed a crazed white snowball of a planet, together with a half dozen tags that showed orbital gun emplacements. Smaller, faster-moving tags tracked the assault coming at the UUS
Helios
: heavy-matter payloads, clouds of Sidewinder missiles, even the matter/antimatter beam of a Zap Gun, piercing dark space like a pillar of flame.

A Zap Gun? Matt thought. That was Union technology. Had the Corsairs captured a major Union base? Or did they have antimatter annihilation technology now too, as well as Mecha?

There wasn't any time for that. “Permission to deploy, Colonel?” Matt barked into the comms.

“No! Hold!” Cruz said, shouting off-mike to get the heavy-matter artillery back online and rotate to target their own Zap Gun. “We didn't expect—they moved the platforms—smarter than we thought.”

“We can help!” Norah said.

“Adept!” Matt cautioned.

“We'll—” Cruz swore as the Zap Gun beam found the ship again. On Matt's damage reports, armor plating evaporated, exposing the core asteroid. “We'll soon have this under control.”

“Sir—” Matt began.

“No!” Cruz yelled. “They're smart, Major. They're hitting us hard, but they're not targeting the Mecha Dock. They're waiting for you to come out.”

“Sir, we can deploy through alternate—”

“Last time: No!” Then, softer: “Let us do our job. Then you can do yours.”

Raw black space lit with the fury of the
Helios
. Multiple antimatter beams speared out, cutting swaths through the torrent of destruction aimed at the ship. They converged first on one orbital emplacement, then another, turning each into a soundless orange fireball.

Soon there was only a single orbital platform left. It redoubled its Zap Gun fire, finally scoring hits on critical UUS
Helios
systems. The FTLcomm transmission array ablated in a blinding white firestorm. The maneuvering pits took a hard hit, blowing them out of shape as the surrounding ceramic exploded into vapor. Even the Mecha Dock doors were struck. The massive steel armor glowed dull red, orange, shading into yellow and slumping toward a molten pool, before the UUS
Helios
managed to focus on that last platform.

The Mecha Dock doors quickly cooled, groaning and squealing as their tortured shapes vented air into space. They were only orange-red when Combat Intelligence came back on the comms.

“Planetary orbit secure,” the bland voice said. In the background, Cruz cursed.

Cruz himself was soon back on the comms, feeding Matt a new set of coordinates on the planet's surface. “Deploy as soon as Mecha Dock doors become functional. Assemble at the location provided. Wait for orders. If engaged, use all weapons to destroy the enemy.”

“They weren't trying to destroy the
Helios
,” Matt said, spitting out the first thing that came to mind.

Cruz said nothing for a long time, but his comms icon remained lit. He switched to a private channel,
CRUZ
LOWELL
. “I said they were smart.”

“They were trying to capture us?”

A pause. Then: “Yes.”

“How could they—even with Union weapons—how could they expect—”

“Prepare to deploy, Major,” Cruz interrupted.

Matt ground his teeth. “Who's the enemy?”

Cruz growled, “Prepare to deploy.”

That's all you need to know,
Matt thought, anger rising. All the stuff about the military he hated came rushing into his mind: drills, following orders, going in blind like this. Don't worry about why they were trying to capture a Union warship, don't think about who you're fighting, just do what we tell you. Like a machine. Something to be turned on, used, and disposed of again.

He had graduated top of class at Aurora University. He could have been a top executive at one of Eridani's largest firms by now—or at least on his way up. He didn't need to be here. His father was avenged. His true mission was over. And he knew the Union hid the whole truth from its citizens.

So why do you keep doing it?

And in the yawning space of his mind, he finally admitted:
I don't know why I do any of it anymore.

When I get back, I'm going to find out,
Matt told himself. He'd get with Peal and Jahl and investigate Keller. And 0195-GX7A-1023. He'd dig into the Union and the Corsairs. The Mecha. Even the HuMax.

That's my new purpose,
Matt realized.
To find out what's really going on in the Union.
So there'd be no more of these crazy missions, no more Kellers, no more Jotunheims. Maybe that would be enough to fill the empty space where revenge used to be.

Matt forced himself to breathe deeply, calm and regular, as the Mecha Dock doors cooled. Because if his enemy was really smart, they'd be waiting when the Mecha came out.

Two minutes later, the Mecha Bay doors ground open. The last wisps of atmosphere exhausted into space, taking rock dust and haze with it. The raw metal of the doors framed the snowball world. Shades of white and blue mixed with off-gray, in feathery fractal patterns all over the surface of the planet. There was not a single mountain range, not a hint of vegetation. Just a frozen ball of ice.

Matt shivered. It wasn't a human world. Not a place anyone would live. And yet the briefing hadn't listed any resources or strategic importance. Why did the Union have such heavy artillery around it?

“Adepts Norah, Elize, and Jie, enable Zap Guns and deploy,” Matt said.

Matt pushed off the scaffolding and stopped himself at the edge of the door. Even with the power of the Zap Gun coursing through his Mecha's arm, it would be stupid to just go charging out. The three others came up beside him, the jaunty visors of their Demons almost questioning.