Ronin (The Pike Chronicles Book 3) (20 page)

At the top of the street a group of four hover tanks glided in. They came to a stop and swiveled their massive barrels into position.

“Incoming!” Jon shouted as their long guns exploded into action.

The shells crashed into the first mech, knocking it backward. Its machinery moaned as the mech toppled to the ground. The hatch in the mech’s belly opened as the Chaanisar pilot crawled out. The man’s helmet had retracted and he had obviously been wounded. He struggled to get to his feet only to collapse. He was in no position to pilot the mech. One of the Marines seized the man pulling him off the street to safety.

“I have a mech pilot down,” Jon said over his comm to Lieutenant Jarvi. “I am taking control of the mech. Repeat, I am taking control of the mech.”

“Do you know how to operate a Chaanisar mech?” said Lieutenant Jarvi.

Jon took off running toward the fallen metal giant. “How hard can it be?” said Jon.

“Captain, you can sync up your combat suit with the mech. It will make operation much simpler. Use the access point located on the back of the suit’s neck.”

“Understood,” said Jon, reaching the downed behemoth. He climbed into the open cockpit, sitting securely in the pilot’s chair and connected his suit. His HUD instantly came to life with a myriad of new information. A diagnostics display flashed on his visor and he noted some system damage. The integrity of the suits armor had been drastically diminished. Nonetheless, it was nothing that couldn’t be bypassed.

As Jon gripped the mech’s twin joysticks another overlay appeared, showing him what each stick did and what options he had at his disposal. Upon activation the cockpit door closed. With a loud metallic bang the door locked into place. Accessing the arms and legs Jon maneuvered the joysticks to stand the beast up. It turned out to be harder than he thought.

He had piloted mechs before and had received some training on Juttari models, but that was some time ago. Besides, it wasn’t so much how the controls worked, as it was having an experienced hand. Indeed, Jon discovered to his dismay that a slight nudge in the wrong direction could send the mech tumbling forward. Attempting to right the fall he overcompensated, and crashed harder still.

While Jon struggled, the other two mechs had wheeled around, shifting their focus from the fighters to the tanks, and charged. The two giants raced down the street, firing their heavy guns at the armored beasts. Remarkably the anti-aircraft missiles continued to stream off their backs into the sky.

The tanks responded by breaking formation. They went wide and rushed in to fight the mechs. Jon was getting the feel for the mech controls and was able to get the giant up onto its feet. The mech’s cameras piped a video feed of the street to Jon’s HUD. He realized that he could access a multitude of views in any direction. His focus remained on the tanks. Watching them rush in he could see they were trying to encircle the two other mechs. The mechs had other plans.

The lead tank took the brunt of the initial mech onslaught. The large shells hit the tank but its armor withstood much of the attack. But not enough. Fissures started appearing in its armor and it changed direction. It tried to move the weakened part away from the mechs, but the giants were too close.

A mech leapt into the air sailing over the weakened tank, pummeling it with its guns from above. The mech hit the ground. The tank tried to swing its giant gun around toward it, but didn’t have enough time. The mech stepped into the tank, inside the length of the gun, denying it a target. From close range it pointed its guns directly at the fissure and fired. The mech sprang away just as the tank exploded.

The other tanks fired. The mech danced, jumped and rolled. The tank shells pummeled the surrounding buildings. Walls collapsed as the buildings began to crumble. Jon hoped no one was left inside.

Jon’s HUD lit up with a warning. More fighters flew into range. He accessed his ant-aircraft system, to find it offline. The message asked him if he wanted it back online.
Goddamnit
, thought Jon, “Affirmative!” A grid flashed on his display indicating the aerial targets, accompanied by a warning to take defensive action. Another message indicated the anti-aircraft system was restarting.

“Chan, I hope you guys have those bogeys.”

“We see them, Sir,” said Chan.

“Keep them off me, my anti-air missiles are offline.”

“Leave it to us, Captain.”

Each second Jon waited felt like hours. It shouldn’t take this long to come online, he thought. Had the shells damaged the system permanently? He had climbed into a nice big shiny target for those fighters to shoot down. Ahead, the two mechs kept the remaining tanks occupied. He developed a newfound respect for mech pilots, as they jumped, rolled and danced through the battlefield.

On his grid one of the fighters disappeared as his men took it down. But there were more coming. As good as his Marines were, he didn’t know if they could handle the rest with just their handheld weapons.

His HUD flashed a new message, ‘Anti-Aircraft System Online’. Finally. Another message followed, asking Jon to select between ‘Manual’ and ‘Automatic’. Jon yelled, “Automatic, you stupid machine!” Suddenly crosshairs appeared on the aerial targets on his grid, and he felt a hard, fast push from behind as his missiles streaked into the sky.

One by one the fighters blinked off his display. “Outstanding,” he said to himself, moving his attention to the tanks. The mechs were doing well and had incapacitated a second tank, leaving two. Jon felt it was high time he joined in the fray. He switched to his gun display and the onboard tracking system immediately identified the enemy tanks as potential targets. He isolated one, and opened fire.

The tanks had disregarded Jon’s mech, focusing only on the two with which they were currently engaged. Jon’s attack must have come as a surprise. His shells struck the tank’s heavy armor plating and its big gun quickly spun around toward Jon.

“Shit,” said Jon. He manipulated the controls. The mech move sideways, laying down continuous fire. The barrel seemed glued to him and matched his movement. Shells hit the tank from its side shifting its focus off Jon. One of the other mechs had taken the distraction Jon provided to charge in on the tank, blasting the turret at point blank range.

The combined mech attack proved lethal and its turret popped high up into the air as it imploded, its own ammunition tearing it to pieces.

All three mechs were now free to focus on the last tank. Recognizing its plight, it moved to retreat. The mech’s gave chase, battering it as it fled. Jon thought this a perfect time to try his hand at running. He transitioned from a walk, to a jog, then a run. His mech hit the top of the street at blistering speed. The two other mechs had cut off the tank’s escape and hammered it until it popped like a birthday balloon. Jon had other problems.

He raced straight for a building. He knew he couldn’t stop, so he changed direction, turning the corner to the adjoining street. He finally managed to slow the mech enough to come to a full stop at the top of the next street. He looked down to see the Chaanisar approaching.

“Any problems operating our mech, Captain?” said Lieutenant Jarvi.

“Problems? You kidding? It’s like riding a bike,” said Jon.

Explosions rocked the warship. The concussions began at the stern and followed a straight path to the bow, tearing the vessel apart. The fighters that had swarmed it were already moving off to their next target when it blew apart, belching machinery and people into the void.

“This needs to stop,” said Sallas, horrified by the persistent loss of life. What had started as a power play by General Juneau had now turned into an ugly struggle, where soldiers loyal to New Byzantium were being slaughtered mercilessly.

“I agree,” said Colonel Bast. “Soon you won’t have any military left.” In the short time Sallas had known Bast, he had found he could trust him. Bast had taken special care not to take lives needlessly. The tactic of jumping ships away to even the odds was brilliant. All those ships, and their soldiers, remained unharmed. Bast’s steady harassment of the coup fleet had helped to turn the tide of the battle. Now, General Calledonius had a clear advantage.

Calledonius commanded his fleet from on board the massive carrier. The coup fleet had lost their numerical advantage. Now, the carrier’s speedy fighters tipped the scales. Calledonius ordered a group of cruisers to flank the coup fleet while his fighters wreaked havoc. The fighters were fast, numerous and difficult to hit. If the coup ships ignored them, they could swarm vessels at will and finish them off. Alternatively, if the fleet tried to engage the fighters, Calledonius could maneuver his larger warships more effectively. With the cruisers completing their flanking maneuver, the noose was tightening around the coup armada.

“Colonel Bast, can you please hail the coup fleet,” said Sallas.

Bast looked to his communications officer and ordered, “Hail the enemy fleet.”

“Yes, Sir.”

They watched the viewscreen and waited for a response. They had halted jumping maneuvers. The coup fleet were already overwhelmed with General Calledonius. A grid was displayed on one corner of the viewscreen, with markers indicating the various ships in both fleets and their position. It allowed for a bird’s eye view of the battle. Sallas saw that the cruisers had succeeded in their flanking maneuver and were concentrating fire on the isolated ships.

Already the coup ships were moving to try and shore up their left flank, but the damage had was done. They would lose several ships before they had any hope of countering the maneuver. They would weaken at key points and their line would soon collapse. How many more ships would be destroyed in the process? How many more lives would be lost? At last a response arrived to Sallas’s hail.

A man who looked to be in his early forties appeared on the screen. Sallas didn’t recognize the man and wondered how he could not take notice of a man with this much influence. “This is Colonel Frank. Are you offering your surrender, Prime Minister?”

“My surrender? Are you joking?” said Sallas.

“Do you detect humor in my face?”

“No, Colonel. I do not.” Sallas wondered if that hard face had ever cracked a smile. This had to be one of the so-called Colonels who took charge after Captain Pike killed General Juneau. “Colonel Frank, surely you must see that the battle is lost. Your surrender will avoid any more unnecessary casualties.”

“I would rather die in battle,” said Colonel Frank.

“It is not just your life you are giving, Colonel. You are condemning thousands to the same fate. What choice do they have in all this?”

“Yes, choice. You are very fond of the concept, aren’t you? The men and women under my command have no need of your democracy. They are soldiers and they will follow orders. Even if those orders mean their deaths.”

“Damn it Colonel, this is not about ideology. You’re talking about human lives. What will happen to your ideology when the Kemmar invade? How will we fight them with half our military destroyed?”

“The Kemmar can be accommodated easily enough. Why would they invade us if we are agreeable?”

Bast gestured to Sallas, asking for a turn to speak. Sallas nodded hoping he could make some headway, one Colonel to another.

“This is Colonel Bast, of the heavy cruiser Ronin.”

“Yes, the mysterious disappearing ship. You possess an astonishing technology.”

“Colonel, I have faced the Kemmar in battle numerous times now, and I can assure you that they are coming. When they do, they will lay waste to your military and enslave your population. I’ve seen how they operate first hand.”

“And yet you live,” said Frank suspiciously. “How is it that you’ve seen all this and yet live to tell the tale?”

“You have seen my ship, have you not? You know its capabilities.”

Frank nodded.

“Colonel Frank, are you loyal to New Byzantium?”

“Of course,” said Frank, pretending to be offended by the question.

“Then you need to put aside your differences and prepare for the Kemmar, or New Byzantium will end up a Kemmar slave colony.”

Frank stared back at Bast, contemplating Bast’s words. “Stand by,” he said finally, and the transmission ended.

Bast turned to Sallas and said, “Do you think he will comply?”

“I don’t know,” said Sallas.

Sallas turned to the tactical display, cringing as the fighters swarmed another coup warship. A cruiser. How many souls were on board that ship? Why didn’t he know? He should know these things. Those people risked their lives for New Byzantium, at the very least he should know how many served on board.

He watched as the broken cruiser spat more good men and women into the blackness of space. Hundreds of bodies. If Colonel Frank didn’t surrender, this would be a massacre. Hell, it was one already.

“Sir, you are being hailed,” said the communications officer to Colonel Bast. “It is Colonel Frank.”

“Proceed,” said Bast.

Sallas looked over as Frank’s face appeared on Bast’s screen.

“Colonel Bast,” said Frank. “I refuse to surrender to Prime Minister Sallas, or to General Calledonius.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” said Bast, his face expressionless.

“Colonel, you are a worthy opponent, and you strike me as an exceptional commander. It is for that reason that I am offering my fleet’s surrender to you.”

“I see,” said Bast, his face emotionless. “In that case, I accept your surrender.”

“Thank you, Colonel,” said Frank. “I am broadcasting this information to my fleet now. Please have General Calledonius cease his attack.”

“You have my word,” said Bast.

As surprised as Sallas was at the exchange, he couldn’t help but feel that there was an unspoken understanding between the two men.

Colonel Frank produced a sidearm and said to Bast, “Good luck, Colonel.” He raised his sidearm, pointed it at his temple, and fired, blowing out the side of his skull.

“No,” said Sallas, but it was all over. “Why would he do that?” Sallas asked Bast.

“You would imprison him and force him to endure a humiliating public trial. For him this is preferable. He fought. He lost. His life is forfeit.”

“Unbelievable,” muttered Sallas.

“Prime Minister,” said Bast. “You need to contact General Calledonius immediately and have him halt his attacks.”

“Yes,” said Sallas, still stunned by what he had witnessed. “Of course.”