Edge of Solace (A Star Too Far) (14 page)

“On your own,” Yamaguchi replied quickly. Mechanical sounds and firing weapons almost drowned out his voice.

The first strider popped up again. The speed was breathtaking. It moved with an animal grace that was quicker than any beast. Shots impacted against the armor, but they hardly slowed it.

“Focus on the left!” Reed called out.

William tracked his weapon. His finger slid against the crisp edge of the trigger. He focused and released his breath.

A clattering shape descended upon Voss with mechanical intensity. The
Marine screamed and rolled. A razor drone.

William jammed the muzzle of the weapon against the body of the drone and fired a single round. The body disintegrated and rolled down the hill.

Voss grabbed his weapon and squeezed another burst off.

“You
okay?” William asked quickly.

The
Marine didn’t reply. His weapon went silent. A pool of blood spread below Voss’s neck.

“Watch for drones!” William called. “Mcrager! How long?”

“Soon!” Mcrager called back.

The first strider moved up and took the blast of a nanite round squarely in the center of the head. The strider tumbled sideways and thrashed about.

William turned his aim to the soldier but the Sa’Ami wasn’t in sight. Rounds sounded from behind him as others in the group continued to fire. Where? He scanned and looked.

The difference between trained ground troops and naval personnel became painfully obvious. They knew how to shoot, and how to take cover, but they lacked the skill to work as a cohesive unit. The
Marines were too few to organize and coordinate the fire.

The Sa’Ami soldier was gaining ground.

William caught a glimpse of something moving towards his left and right. It took him a second to realize that he had a strider on one side and the Sa’Ami soldier on the other. He could taste metal in his mouth and felt the adrenaline pump.

Senses tuned. Every movement and shift was painfully tense. He expected to be shot, or ripped apart at any moment. He had seen the intense violence a strider was capable of on Redmond.

In a flash the soldier was on him. The suit pounced from cover and slammed down next to William. The comms went wild as the entire group called out in unison.

William rolled and felt the ground shudder next to him.
Oh shit,
was all he could think. He looked up and saw the dull colored suit stained with mud. A tuft of grass stuck out from the shoulder armor.

It had a weapon in one hand that was firing uphill while the other arm bore a fist clenched tightly. The face was hidden behind a mask of alloy and plastic.

The fist went up and slammed down towards William. His body didn’t even have a chance to tense when the blow struck him. The fist rose up once more for another strike.

The blow was staggering. His shoulder popped oddly and his back was wrenched. The wound on his ribs felt like it was being torn open.

William tried to do something. His weapon was tossed to the side and out of reach. Rounds ricocheted off the armor of his attacker. The fist hovered, or seemed to, in the heightening of the adrenaline.

The head of the Sa’Ami turned slightly
, as if questioning William. The fist paused and drooped down. The soldier tumbled on top of William.

Black smoke poured out from the back armor of the soldier. The remaining strider broke sideways and disappeared into the low buildings from where it came.

William lifted himself up and saw a band of olive skinned men sprinting towards him. Each clutched a weapon to his chest. Thick black beards bounced as they ran and cheered.

The Maronite militia was like an arriving carnival. They immediately took cover and began pointing and gesturing. William was propped up and a cigarette was tucked into his mouth.

“Thanks,” William said through the acrid smoke of the filterless cigarette.

One of the men stood with his hands on his hips. Thick chest hair sprouted from his shirt. His eyebrows were so thick they nearly tangled his eyelashes. “Ahh, it is good that the militia came to save you
, eh?”

The whole thing seemed rather surreal to William. The group had zero military discipline. Luck must have been on their side.

“Indeed, now help me up.”

William limped the militia up into a tighter position. He turned and
glanced at Voss before creeping into position.

“Cover
, LT! Heavies coming in,” Yamaguchi sounded on the comms.

“Drop your cocks and grab your socks. Mcrager is coming!” Mcrager hollered into the comms.

William spun and looked up the low hill.

The additive cell was mostly hidden in the piney growth around it. The Maronites stopped and looked at William. “Get out of the road,” he wheezed.

The great mechanical spider sprung forth from the trees. The limbs sprawled outwards and forwards as the creature scrambled ahead. Instead of standing tall it was low to the ground, no more than a meter. On its back several pods of weapons and sensors scanned. It moved with a speed so rapid that it looked comical for its size.

“Holy shit,” a Maronite said as the creature leaped past with limbs on the roof above.

“Follow that thing!” the man with bushy eyebrows ordered.

William, his task done, looked to the carnival group tumbling down the road. He wasn’t about to let them seize the day. “Let’s move!”

The remaining crew of the
Malta
came into formation.

“Where you need us
, LT?” William called to Yamaguchi.

“Elevator,” Yamaguchi replied. The roar of
gunfire in the background was deafening.

“Huron, Bass, you’re on point. Let’s move!” William ordered
. The group moved away from the additive cell and towards the heaviest fighting. He stripped the nanite patch off his chest and laid another on.

Behind them white light struck the additive cell. They stopped and took cover as debris rained down.

Bass turned and looked to William. “Elevator is the only place they won’t use orbital strikes.”

William nodded. The
Marine was right, but a static target was easy to overwhelm.

The last of the debris clanked on the metal roofs.

“Hit it!” William yelled. He only hoped they wouldn’t be too late.

The wound on his side had sealed back up. His fingers traced on the coagulated edge. The pain dulled away like a shadow
from a bright candle. He picked up his pace and jogged as quickly as he could. If it weren’t for the nanite patch he’d have laid in the ditch and cried.

Mcrager’s
spider-mech bounded through the buildings and streets. It was heading directly for the elevator complex.

*

Yamaguchi crouched inside the edge of the building. His drones were nearly destroyed, but according to his recon birds, so were the enemies. He called down the last of the strike drones on a Sa’Ami cluster nearly an hour before.

He keyed up a recon drone and scanned the area around him. The hostiles were keeping away, just barely. He knew there was one of his hunter drones hidden nearby. Though he had a feeling it was hiding from a Sa’Ami drone.

The orbital strikes came down so quickly after the first that the soldiers had to take cover near the elevator. Yamaguchi hated to lose the mobility but they couldn’t engage with the strikes coming from above.

“Where are those heavies?” Yamaguchi
asked.

“Moving from the east
, LT,” Paco replied. His voice was hushed.

“What’s your status
, Paco?”

“Legs are locked up tight.”

Yamaguchi sighed and took stock of his forces. Damned meager.

The clouds dropped further down into a sheet of mist. The wind wanted to blow, but couldn’t quite get up the energy. An occasional drift of rain would bring enough moisture to stain the mud bright yellow.

He shifted the display and pinged orders to his remaining troops. The bright blue icon showed Mcrager rushing towards them, but the pace was still slow. The order was sent and he shifted himself into position.

Yamaguchi snapped his rifle up and knocked a drone from the top of a building. A shower of debris peppered the tin roof below. He kept his bead on the edge of the roof
—he’d learned the drones liked to travel in packs, too.

The icons shifted on his display. The live image flickered. Data streams changed. The drones struggled to keep a cohesive view. He watched as the count approached that perilous point where he’d lose his live view.

Yamaguchi sprinted across a gap and waited in the shadow of a cargo container. Dim red icons winked in on the edges of his perimeter. They moved relentlessly towards him.

“W
hoa, they’re big,” Sergeant Craig said.

“Clear
, clear, draw ‘em in, hit ‘em with what you can. Full load.” Yamaguchi adjusted the rifle. Each slug would have a tighter formed tip with a larger charge behind it. It would hit harder and power deeper, but would consume the slabs three times as fast.

“Full load?” Hoffman asked.

“If we don’t hold ‘em now, it won’t matter.”

The side of the container shuddered. Fluid sprayed out in a wide sheet of golden brown. Shrapnel stuck through the side. The smell of apples was so intense the air filters kicked on.

Yamaguchi leaned around a corner and saw a pair of the heavies moving in. One was coated in fibrous yellow mud. Behind was a pair of men in power armor with three striders flanking. Two of the striders limped awkwardly.

“Get me counts! I’ve got two heavies here, two walkers, and three striders,” Yamaguchi called.

His remaining troops sounded off. Another six heavies all converging on the entrance to the complex.

“Mcrager, this would be a good time to hurry.”

“Engaged, LT, moving as I can.” Mcrager replied back.

Yamaguchi snapped his eye up to the display and saw that Mcrager’s icon was barely moving.

The heavies were slower than a standard strider but packed anti-infantry and anti-armor weaponry. Each arm was a rotary cannon. One shoulder held a mass driver while the other was a rapid turret to engage drones or incoming ordnance.

Yamaguchi snuck another glance. He’d never seen them before, only heard stories and watched feeds. The doctrine was to move and use mobility
—however, if he moved too much the ships in orbit would pound his position.

“Shoot and dodge. One burst and get out, pick another spot.” Yamaguchi set the drones to full aggressive. “Drones are going red, get ready.”

The drone icons moved closer. They would now hunt and engage without regard to their own safety. One shot was now worth becoming killed. The drones wouldn’t last another hour.

He turned his weapon around the corner and squeezed off the first burst. A smile grew involuntarily as the shock and recoil of the weapon surprised him. Big guns were something he enjoyed.

The first of the rounds impacted the mud speckled heavy while the rest disappeared behind.

It raised the rotary cannon slightly. The burst of fire was like a blowtorch. High intensity slugs stitched the container. Blasts of steam rose. The air stunk of burnt apples. It stopped and scanned about.

Yamaguchi was already gone. He shifted ten meters behind a pile of scented yellow lumber.

The heavy that had fired was in a holding position while the other moved up. The Sa’Ami soldiers tucked up against a brick wall.

Fire opened from the opposite side and one of the Sa’Ami soldiers buckled. Rifle blasts boomed, but there was no echo off of the low clouds. Yamaguchi squeezed another burst as the heavies turned.

The shrinking platoon of UC soldiers gave ground slowly
, but the Sa’Ami heavies were nearly unstoppable. At each shift they sent rounds at the heavy striders. The heavies took no damage that Yamaguchi could see.

The display winked once, twice, and reverted to a satellite map taken a few days before. All of the icons on his screen were haloed by dim blinking question marks.

“Everyone get to the complex!” Yamaguchi called over the comms. He sprinted across an opening. His lower back tightened with fear. He had no eyes in the sky and no weapons capable of stopping the heavies. The last of his hunter drones had been destroyed.

The sky grew brighter but it was just the rain emptying down. The mud washed off the tops of the power armor but each of the suits looked to be wearing yellow trousers. Yamaguchi never thought he’d die looking so damn ridiculous.

“LT!” Hoffman called. The Sergeant crouched behind a pillar with a ragged scar of metal running across his chest. “Not bad, eh?”

Yamaguchi shook his armored head. “Not bad, suits just took some breaking in.”

The two were silent as they both knew what Hoffman meant.

“Movement,” a voice called out.