This time didn’t seem any different. The reports they’d been given so far said they were headed to rescue some idiot pioneers. Their emergency beacon had apparently been sounding off on one of the system’s habitable planets. A rescue mission wasn’t as good as combat, but they’d take what they could get. If they were lucky, maybe they’d get attacked by some local aborigines or something.
Mike looked across the deck to where their T80s sat, looking empty and lifeless. He longed to suit up for a fight. There was no bigger rush than going to war in the two and a half meter killing machine. He’d been deployed in two different military actions in the eight years he’d been a marine. Both times were as a T80 pilot. This duty assignment though, sucked rocks. Long waits with very little to do but clean, polish and wait.
They’d been on alert now for several hours. Any moment, he expected to hear the “stand down” order. He got up and stretched his lean, muscled frame. At one hundred and eighty-three centimeters tall and eighty two kilograms, he was the ideal size and height for a T80 pilot. His dark hair was regulation buzz cut and he was clean shaven. He sported a few tattoos, standard for any marine but not overdone to make him look like a freak. The military frowned on the defacing of what they considered government property.
Mike walked over to the intel officer standing at the weapons bay’s data console. “Any updates?”
“Nothing new since the last time you asked five minutes ago.” The intel officer gave him a wry grin.
“Kiss my ass, Jensen.” He replied back. Intel weenies annoyed him, but Jensen wasn’t half bad. The problem with intelligence was that it wasn’t always that intelligent. They always missed some vital piece of information or just plain got it wrong and then it fell to him to make it work anyway. Some intel officers, got pissy when you pointed out the errors in their data. Jensen at least had the good grace to say, “Sorry”. Unlike some, he seemed to get the score. Bad intel could get good marines killed. Partial intel could get you the same.
Mike turned to walk over to take a hand at cards hoping to keep his mind from stewing about the lack of action.
“Sergeant!” Jensen shouted as Mike walked away. “We got a green light for a combat op. The captain wants you guys suited up and planet side in thirty minutes.”
Mike turned back, adrenaline already pumping at the thought of combat. “Are you serious?”
“Deck operations says there is a friendly, planet-side in heavy contact with an unknown force. That’s all I got so far.” The intel officer looked up and smiled. “Go get some, Sarge.”
Mike turned back and jogged toward his squad. “Everyone suit up! We got a combat op.” Everyone jumped up with excited shouts and ran for their T80s. This is what they lived for and it had been a while since any of them had really lived.
“Any details Sarge?” One of the squad asked as they armored up.
“We got a friendly in heavy contact with an unknown enemy force. That’s all we got so far.” Mike jumped into his combat suit and it sealed smoothly as it powered up. Comms connected immediately and he checked the status of the members in his squad. Everyone checked ready. “Form up at the airlock everyone. You know the drill.” They stacked up in the airlock and the heavy door closed behind them. “Everyone sound off!”
“Nine!” “Eight!” Each marine shouted out their number in turn. No stupid call signs for marines. Leave that to the pansy fly boys. Normally, a squad would consist of three fire teams, but a ship this size couldn’t fit that many T80s in the weapons bay. So he was left with only two; but two fire teams equipped with T80s were enough to handle most problems.
“One!” Mike popped the outer door lock with his metal fist. Space gaped before them. Billions of stars dotted the horizon and the twin stars danced slowly in the distance. Mike ignored the view as he let his body fall forward out the open door. Eight other T80s followed like dominoes. They fell quickly and the ship shrunk to nothing in the pitch black of space. He checked the status of each of his squad. All were clear as they continued to fall planet side in total silence.
“One, this is Mother on Tac1. I’ve got an update for you. You’re not going to believe it.” Jensen’s voice came through crystal clear, if only a little tinny, over the encrypted comm link.
“What do you got for us?” Mike concentrated to maintain his attitude as he continued his descent from orbit. The T80 did not have systems for attitude control during orbital freefalls. The pilot had to maintain the proper orientation himself, which was difficult with no atmosphere to speak of. A moment’s inattention could send the T80 into a spin and tangle of limbs that would be nearly impossible to recover from.
“Deck operations reports the friendly in contact on the ground is a solo T80. No idea how it got there, but whoever it is, they’re severely outnumbered and taking heavy fire.”
Mike wobbled slightly in surprise and then quickly straightened out.
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack, Sarge. You better be ready for a fight, too. We’re estimating over one thousand hostiles.” Jensen was trying to keep a cool head, but Mike could tell he was worried.
“What do we have for terrain?” He asked.
“Most of this area is hilly jungle shit, but it gives way to open plains to the east. Based on the T80’s current route, he’ll be coming out of the jungle about the time you make landfall.”
“Any intel on the kind of weapons we’ll be coming up against?” Outnumbered as they were, they’d be walking into a metal shredder if they were outgunned as well.
“Small arms the best we can tell. I haven’t seen evidence of anything heavy and the terrain’s no good for tanks or other armor. ”
“Got it, Jensen. Thanks.” Thank god for small favors. They’d be hard pressed against that many hostiles, even with the advantage in fire power. A thought occurred to him. “Hey, Jensen, how long has this guy been in contact with the enemy?”
“The request for reinforcements came almost as soon as we came in system. So, about three hours.”
Mike swore. “This guy’s been in contact with a force that large for three hours and he’s still alive? He’s got to have balls the size of bowling balls.”
“Maybe he’ll let you touch them if you’re nice.” Jensen replied.
“I’ll say please, for sure.” Mike passed the intel to the squad. “I want standard hot landfall. Pop the brakes at six thousand meters, deploy the chutes at one thousand, form up and we’ll drop in on these bastards on my signal.”
Turbulence started as they began to hit the atmosphere. They still had a good twenty minutes of descent left before they’d be on the ground and engaging the enemy. Mike only hoped they’d make it in time to rescue the lone T80.
***
For three years Rayne hadn’t seen with her own eyes, heard with her own ears, felt the touch of her own skin or the sun on her face. She was no longer sure what it felt like to be human. She was not just in a machine, she had become the machine. There was no longer a boundary between where it began and she ended.
She had been in complete shock after watching her mother and father die. In the subsequent weeks and months there had been no time to mourn as she ran for her life. Three years later, it was too late for grief. She couldn’t cry even if the urge had taken her. Locked as she was in the T80, crying was impossible. All body fluids were immediately absorbed and the healing powers of a good cry were completely beyond her. But she could hate, and the hate filled her world. It gave her purpose. It gave her focus. It turned a fourteen year old, little slip of a girl into a killing machine.
First they had come in four man groups. She killed them. They had set ambushes. She killed them. They had come in large forces. She killed them. They chased her from one end of the planet to another and she’d killed them all.
Rayne burst from the trees as fast as her tired legs would carry her, the dam
aged leg joint on the T80 slowing her considerably. She came to a stuttered stop and looked across the flat grassy plain with grim resignation. It would have been a spectacular view under normal circumstances. The tall grass waved gently in a light breeze. The twin suns sat low on the horizon and turned the few clouds a pretty color of orange. She raised her head to the sky and closed her eyes, pretending she could the feel the warmth of the sun and the wind on her face. She stood in this attitude for several seconds and then opened her eyes. She saw a falling star overhead. Appropriate, she thought, and turned to face the jungle. This was as good a place to die as any.
Rayne didn’t wait for her enemy to come to her. She wouldn’t be a stationary target caught standing in the open. She rushed the jungle’s edge and caught her attackers just as they exited the tree line with the suns at her back. Expecting a continued chase over flat open ground, the enemy was caught by surprise as Rayne waded into their middle just as they burst through the trees. She fired point black at the roiling mass of targets, cutting a swath of destruction. Rayne kept moving as she fired almost continuously, trying not to go down under the ocean of bodies rushing to meet her. The gun heated to dangerous levels as she gave way under the onslaught of death pushing its way relentlessly toward her. Her left arm fell dead at her side as she struggled to maintain her footing, but went down under the tidal wave of enemies. She screamed in rage and tried to kick, roll and tear her way free. Her weapons stopped working, either overheated or out of ammo. It didn’t really matter which. She was going to die anyway, but not without a fight. Rayne kept pounding at anything she could get her hands on, moving and striking as much as the damaged battle suit would let her. One moment she was up and the next she was down, kicking and rolling and trying to fight her way free again.
***
Captain Gault stood at attention before the view screen. The marines had launched just minutes after he’d given the order, but looking at the progressing battle before him, he wasn’t sure whether it was too little too late. The bird’s eye view from the probe gave a perfect window seat. He watched the T80 crash through the jungle as the enemy force gained ground. It was obvious the pilot was running out of strength. His speed had dropped even further and there appeared to be no chance he would be able to make his escape on the open plain. More than likely, it would turn into a killing field. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. The marines were still ten minutes out. An eternity in combat. This engagement could very well be finished in five.
The T80 broke from the trees and stopped. It paused for several seconds and then turned to face the tree line. Captain Gault wasn’t surprised. He could see the tactical situation from orbit was untenable. The choices were simple. Die running or die fighting. He’d seen this choice made many times during his career. Heroes were the ones who turned to face the enemy and died standing. He bowed his head briefly, wished him god speed, and then looked up to watch the end.
The probe was still unable to pick up the enemy on any visual range. But infrared scans showed a thousand enemy contacts bursting from the tree line and the T80 stepping in to meet them with guns blazing. It quickly went down under the sheer number of enemy combatants and he thought it was finished. But the T80 came back up, shooting and fighting for everything he was worth. He went down again under a mob of attackers, but fought his way to his feet again. He moved and rolled, kicked, punched and slashed and went down again and again only to fight his way to his feet once more.
Captain Gault had rarely seen that kind of fight out of anyone under his command and desperately wanted to see the man survive. He spoke, keeping his eyes on the display.
“Comms. Inform Sgt. Weber the situation is desperate and if he doesn’t get the job done in the next few seconds there won’t be anyone to rescue. Tell him to get creative if he has to.” He turned back to the screen and hoped.
***
Sgt. Weber and his team had just hit the air brakes at six thousand meters. The momentary deceleration slammed into his body and took his breath away. He had just gotten the update from the captain on the desperate battle happening below. Following procedure, it didn’t sound like they’d get there in time. The captain had said get creative though, so that meant to hell with procedure and go kick some alien ass.
“Two, Three. You guys up for some insane shit that will probably get you killed?”
“Hell, yeah, Sarge.” They replied together.
“I want you to overcharge your laser canons and drop with the air brakes all the way into the kill zone. Set them off as you hit the ground. You’ll be out of the fight for the duration, but we’ll cover you as we come in.” The T80s were tough, but not necessarily indestructible. A fall at that velocity was going to do some damage and possibly cause death to the two pilots, but there was a high probability they’d survive with only a few broken bones. Broken bones healed, death didn’t, but any marine worth a damn would risk death to save a fellow.
“We got this!” Said Two.
“This is gonna be an awesome story if we survive it.” Said Three.
“Might even get your ugly ass laid.” One of the others chimed in.
“Give’em hell marines!” Mike and the rest of the squad pulled their chutes as they hit one thousand meters, while Two and Three hurtled to the ground.
***
Rayne went down for what she guessed would be the last time. She was so exhausted she couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t feel her arms or legs and she gasped for air like a drowning swimmer. As she fell, an enormous explosion rocked the ground. The force of the blast wave lifted her off the ground and threw her fifty meters back into the grassy plain. She barely held on to consciousness as she struggled to stand, only making it to her hands and knees. She was shocked to see a two hundred meter area near the tree line had been cleared. Green goo coated everything. The once waving golden grasses now lay flat and green with two crumpled figures laying in the epicenter of the blast zone.
Rayne couldn’t process what she saw before her. It was as if she was standing outside herself looking down, but with double vision. Those were T80s on the ground, lifeless and unmoving. She shook herself and began crawling forward on her one good hand and knee; dragging the other useless appendages behind her. She could see the enemy massing at the tree line preparing for another attack. Rayne had no idea where the T80s had come from, but she wasn’t going to abandon them. If they were already dead, she would do the honor of dying with them. If they were still alive, she’d protect them for as long as she could. She reached their position just as the enemy broke from the trees. Her weapons had come back on line, but there wasn’t much left and certainly not enough to fend off the coming assault.
Rayne didn’t care, though. She had resigned herself to the fact that she would die alone. Now, here before her, were two other people just like her. And she would die knowing someone had tried to save her. Rayne struggled forward to protect the prostrate soldiers.
***
Captain Gault watched in silent pride. Sgt. Weber’s team had pulled a highly risky maneuver. Definitely not according to procedure, but he had told sergeant to get creative. The two hundred meter area they had cleared would give the rest of Sgt. Weber’s team a chance to get in the fight.
But that’s not what made the captain’s chest swell with pride. The sight of the lone T80 dragging himself to the two downed marines and taking a defensive position was as heroic an act a he’d ever seen. There was absolutely no quit in that marine. Captain Gault prayed he made it.
***
What remained of the two squads hit the ground running as the enemy attacked en mass from the tree line. They had landed one hundred meters behind their downed comrades and the lone T80. They moved forward at top speed and quickly closed the distance, alternately firing laser cannon and mini guns. Eight and Nine hung back while the others provided covering fire. They began lobbing plasma grenades into
the enemy ranks. Explosive concussions rocked the trees and blew enemy combatants in all directions. Seven guns roared their fury in concert. Laser cannons flashed in the quickly gathering darkness as the twin suns dipped below the horizon. Muzzles flashed from the tree line, but nothing made it across the grassy plain without meeting immediate death.
It was an hour before silence fell.
***
Rayne had lost the power to stand. Both the power in her body and the T80’s as well. Her power was down to nearly zero and the entire system had shut down to recharge. She watched numbly as seven additional T80s stepped to her side and defended her position. She was physically and emotionally spent.
Rayne fell backward onto the grass, watching the flashing lights from the laser canons and guns. It was beautiful in a way. The flashes lit the shadows with bursts of color. Like fireworks on a festival day. She could barely remember the last festival she’d gone to with her parents. What was she, seven? They’d had a circus with all kinds of different and exotic animals. Dancing. There was lots of dancing and lots of people. The fireworks had been her favorite. They’d sat on the big open green on a large blanket and watched the fireworks bursting in all different colors in the air. She’d liked best the blue ones that fell from the sky like curly cues. She remembered falling asleep in her father’s lap before the end. What a nice memory, she thought. Rayne stared into the sky and daydreamed of a different life as the bursting roar of the guns and thump of grenades slowly lulled her into a deep and soundless sleep.
CHAPTER 2
Mike sat tired but happy at the head of the heavy troop transport as it made its way back to the ship. The hour long firefight had been awesome and he’d be riding the adrenaline high for weeks. Two and Three had suffered a couple of broken bones and concussions, but would be back to full duty as soon as they were healed. Their T80s would need some major repairs. The high velocity impact into the ground had busted up some of the joints and damaged some of the internal systems. They were currently resting at the rear of the transport with their pilots sedated inside.