Chapter 38

DAY 56 – HADES – RUZA

“Left side, left side!” Brenner yelled.

The SWAR team moved ahead of the Marines and fighters who had secured the street, passing the fallen bodies of another dozen PDF troopers, their visors reflecting the burning wreck of a troop transport. They swept through an alley, more gunfire ringing out as they cleared the area.

“Clear!” Kingfisher announced. “That’s the last of them!”

“Keep moving!” Brenner ordered.

The troops left their positions and began to march up the street again, Petrova and Lily striding ahead at the front of the formation. There were squads of Marines and resistance fighters covering the flanks, along with multiple SWAR teams acting as the spearhead. Ruza had learned to recognize many of them due to their helmet decals, and others from the decorative damascene and etchings on their limbs. One even sported LED strips on his forearms that seemed designed for signaling Valbaran flocks. Flatline and Caveman were newcomers who had arrived from the carrier with Reggie, and alongside them were the three Trogs, one of them carrying a bulky microwave gun.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” Reed complained as he walked along beside Ruza. “It’s stop and go, stop and go, over and over again. How many PDF do they even have?”

“I sense that this is an attempt to delay us,” Ruza replied. “Barbosa certainly knows that we are coming, and he has never shown any affection for the PDF. Just like the Matriarch during her war, he is willing to spend lives like ammunition to buy time.”

“You think he’s going to try to hole up in the garrison?” Reed asked.

“It is the most defensible position,” Ruza replied with a shrug.

“Every time we underestimate this guy, he fucks us,” Reed insisted. “I’m not eager to test him.”

“Reed,” Brenner began as he walked back over to them with his team in tow. “What do you know about this garrison? We have satellite imagery, but you’re our expert on the ground.”

“Garrison One is the largest PDF base in the colony,” Reed replied. “It’s their HQ, and it’s where Barbosa’s people have been operating from. It’s near a lot of important infrastructure, like the anchor and the civic buildings. Needless to say, it’s heavily defended, but the fortifications aren’t too different from what they use for the smaller garrisons. Reinforced carbcrete walls, one entrance with a security gate, hardened underground structures – nothing we haven’t seen. As far as I know, at least,” he added with a shrug. “I haven’t exactly been visiting much these last two months. The main difference is just the size – it’s a larger compound with more troops stationed inside.”

“There is no way to know how many troops Barbosa may have left,” Ruza added. “He has not been conservative in their deployment.”

“He means we’ve probably whacked half of his goons by now,” Reed clarified as he looked back to Brenner.

“Orbital imaging is showing a troop buildup around the garrison, but it’s tough to make out much with all the smoke,” Brenner continued. “There seem to be fires burning in and around the cargo loading area by the anchor, but we haven’t hit it yet, and I seriously doubt the resistance forces or protesters could make it that deep into the city.”

“You think Barbosa is setting fires to create a smoke screen?” Wasp asked.

“He may be trying to obscure his movements,” Brenner agreed with a nod. “The wind would carry it in our direction.”

“There are all kinds of warehouses full of supplies that he could torch,” Reed confirmed. “Hell, he’s done it before.”

Ruza glanced up at the sky ahead of them, seeing the smoke spreading around the tether, the dark cloud billowing up from the direction of the docks. It hung over the city like a canopy, casting everything below it into shadow, only made worse by the setting sun. He could smell it on the air – stinging and acrid, like burning plastic or rubber.

“You’ve known Barbosa for decades, Commander,” Wasp began. “Any idea what he’s planning?”

“Something,” Brenner grumbled in reply. “He knows we’re coming, and he always has a plan. The worst thing we can do is underestimate him and charge straight in. He has at least three PCEs left, and he’ll use them, not to mention whatever remaining SWAR teams he has in reserve. I want to split our forces into two groups. An assault team consisting of Tiger Lily and the bulk of our infantry will move down the main street and assault the gate. This is mostly diversionary. I want their heavy weapons focused on her.”

“I can handle it, Commander,” Lily said over the radio. She was listening in, her towering suit standing further down the street. “Unless they’re hiding another Ursa, there’s not much they can field that can harm Tiger. Even an AMR will need a few good hits to take me down.”

“During this diversion, I will lead a strike team to flank around the garrison,” Brenner continued. He knelt and deftly drew a knife from his belt, using its tip to draw in the sand. He drew a square to represent the garrison, then drew a curve going around it, stabbing the blade into the ground over the target. “We’ll use Reed’s remaining explosives to blow a hole in the rear wall and make our way inside. We get a SWAR team, our Trogs, and some Marines through, and they can wreak some havoc and get the gate open. We’ll need to be quiet and move quickly, so we’ll travel light. Petrova, Ruza,” he added. “You’re with me. Your heavy weapons will be force multipliers.”

“You’re assuming that Barbosa will send out his PCEs to deal with Lily?” Petrova asked.

“Any objections?” Brenner prompted, giving her a chance to voice her opinion. She knew Barbosa well – perhaps even better than the Commander did now.

“No,” she replied after a moment, her emotions difficult to discern beneath her suit’s canopy. “Barbosa’s only option will be to tackle Tiger Lily head-on. It’s just that ... Roach and Crow are shrewd fighters, they’re smart tacticians, and they always work as a pair. Lily, I know that you just got done wiping out half of their PCE force, but remember that these are the prototypes that you’ll be going up against. After piloting a production model, I can tell you that they’re faster, better shielded, and they have superior sensor suites. They’ll be piloted by seasoned operatives who have had real, practical combat experience with the hardware. Don’t underestimate them, and don’t treat them like muddy recruits.”

“Do you think Barbosa will deploy alongside them?” Lily asked.

“I’m not sure,” Petrova replied. “Throughout this conflict, he’s remained on the carrier, calling the shots from safely outside the line of fire. But don’t mistake him for a coward. He has more combat experience than anyone – even Brenner. He doesn’t have very long to live, nor does he have much left to lose.”

“That makes him unpredictable,” Brenner said with a nod of agreement. “We’re just going to have to see where the cards fall on this one. Let’s get it done.”

They separated into two groups, the bulk of their fighters and Marines following Lily as she marched down the street. Ruza, Reed, Harlequin, Brenner, the contingent of SWAR and Trogs, and a squad of Marines broke off and headed in a Westward direction relative to the garrison. With Rivera on a mission to rescue Captain Ortega, Brenner left Sergeant Fuller in command of the men who remained behind. They made their way through the side roads and alleys, using them for cover, vanishing into the shadow of the smoke cloud.

DAY 56 – HADES – FULLER

Fuller marched down the dusty road with his rifle in hand, his Hadean leathers fluttering in the breeze, following behind Tiger Lily. The imposing, ten-foot suit was striding a few meters ahead of him, each loping footstep sinking its clawed feet into the sand, that heavy thirty-mill seeming to float in place on its gimbal as the Warrior marched. He’d ordered the six squads of men under his command to stick to either side of the street, walking in columns to present the smallest possible target, ready to take cover in the alleys should the need arise.

The garrison would certainly be well-defended, but their mission was only to be a distraction. Lily would soak up most of the fire and present the most threatening target, and after what he had seen, she could take it. He’d fought Warriors before – unfriendly ones – and even an AMR would take a few rounds to put one down if they didn’t hit anything vital. Warriors were just walking sacks of redundant organs and systems encased within thick armor.

“It’s too quiet,” the Marine behind him began.

“You think so?” Fuller replied as he kept his eyes on the endless rows of prefabs. The monotony of the city was starting to drive him insane. The tether had grown from a thin strand to a thick pillar now, and above the rooftops, he could see more prominent carbcrete structures like the civic buildings and hospital rising up. The anchor towered over everything, like an industrial mountain made of ribs and girders, the dark smoke shrouding it.

“We hit a group of PDF or a blockade every fifteen minutes on the way here,” the Marine continued. “Now, suddenly nothing?”

“Hey, Lily!” Fuller said as he turned his attention to the Warrior. He picked up the pace a little, hurrying to catch up to her. “You picking up anything unusual on your scopes?”

“No, why?” she replied.

“I dunno,” he muttered. “It feels ... quiet.”

As they walked, the glint of metal caught his eye, and he turned his head to the right. Nestled in an alley, only visible from this angle, was a hunched shape shrouded in shadow. Too late, he realized that it was a PCE. The massive suit was crouched low, a long rifle held in its mechanical hands. Its camera dome swiveled, the lenses catching the red glow of the sky, and it pulled the trigger.

Before he could call out a warning, Fuller’s helmet deafened him to protect his hearing, a wave of dust sweeping into the street as the rifle fired. He could feel the slug pass above his head, moving faster than his eyes could track. When he managed to turn, he saw the Warrior reeling, the thirty-mill gun on its shoulder erupting into a shower of scrap metal. The round had hit it dead on, blasting through the receiver and tearing the weapon apart, the twisted barrel falling to the ground like a felled branch.

Lily spun around to face her assailant, Fuller sprinting out of the way and waving for his men to take cover as she raised her shield, intending to intercept any follow-up shots. The PCE already seemed to be fading away, slinking back into the darkness. She popped her smoke launchers, shrouding herself in a protective haze that settled over the street like a pair of angel wings, their feathers slowly drifting downwards. It lingered, then began to clear, swept away by the wind to reveal the Warrior standing defiantly. Her sword was drawn, and her shield was raised. The giant creature took up a defensive stance like a Roman soldier preparing to ward off a charge, her armored head turning as she scanned for targets.

The cannon had been destroyed, its tattered remains hanging from her shoulder like a broken limb, the belt that carried slugs from the drum magazine on her back dangling limply. There came the sound of metal on metal, and the heavy drum fell from the suit, landing in the sand below with a thud. She appeared able to eject it like a spent magazine, leaving some mounting hardware in its place.

There was something ahead of her – Fuller seeing a dark shape occupying the road past the fading smoke. It was another PCE. There was a great slab of a ballistic shield held in one of its massive arms, and in the other, it clutched a long pole. It took Fuller a moment to realize what he was looking at. It was a long, thin augur of the kind used by excavators to drill out holes for posts and foundations, shaped like a drill bit with a pointed tip. It must have come from some manner of industrial vehicle, but the PCE wielded it like a spear.

“Come on then!” the PCE bellowed, a man’s voice emanating from its speakers and echoing down the street. It was Roach, Fuller realized – the insect decal was painted on the canopy. He raised the augur, then hammered it against his shield in a challenge, the sound of ringing steel filling the air.

“Keep back,” Lily warned, addressing Fuller. “Your men can’t do anything to stop a PCE.”

“Pull back!” Fuller ordered, shouldering his rifle and backing away. “Get off the street and take cover!”

She was right – Lily was the one who was supposed to handle the PCEs. Could she still do that without her cannon? There were at least two of them, and she was alone now.

“We’ll give you some cover and watch your back,” Fuller insisted as he retreated to a nearby alley. “Maybe with enough volume of fire, we can at least deter them. Watch your shots, people!”

Lily squared off against Roach, the pair standing at either end of the dusty street, lit by the setting sun like some kind of old Western. She began to stride forwards on her digitigrade legs, slowly at first, gradually accelerating to a loping run. Her clawed feet left deep footprints in the sand behind her, the fallen ammo drum marking her starting point. Fuller still marveled that something so large could move so quickly.

Roach planted his ballistic shield in the ground with a thud that made the sand around it shake, then leaned his right arm around the barrier, the augur clutched in his mechanical hand. He fired the XMH that was embedded in his forearm, the sidearm-caliber rounds streaking forth, forcing Lily to raise her shield. They were little more than bee stings to her, the plasma field crackling between the magnetic studs that peppered its carapace, turning them to slag before they could do any damage.

She was closing now, her suit impacting the PCE at a sprint, all of its weight thrown into a shield slam. The two shields collided, chitin meeting composite, a sound like a hammer striking an anvil echoing through the street. The PCE’s heavy boots began to slide in the sand, but it endured, the outrigger-like claws on its toe and heel digging into the ground for purchase. It was strong – stronger than Fuller would have imagined, despite being three feet shorter than the Warrior. It was equivalent to watching a human and a Borealan grapple, but on a larger scale, their struggling making the nearby prefabs shake on their stilts.

Lily raised her short sword, the vein of copper that ran down its dark blade glinting in the evening light, intending to drive it down over the top of her shield. Roach heaved her back, knocking her away with his bulwark, all of the machinery and electronics that powered the limb squealing with the effort. It was enough to send the more agile Warrior staggering back a couple of paces, knocked off-balance for a moment. Like a knight of old wielding a spear, Roach thrust the augur towards her, its sharp tip plunging towards her torso. Lily danced away, avoiding it by only a few inches, her grace belying the weight of her suit. Where the PCEs were steel and servos, the Warrior was muscle and sinew, and it moved like a living thing.