Indomitable (43 page)

THE KORAZIM SYSTEM, PLANET SHEOL

COMBAT OUTPOST DANNY TRUE

Thanks to a stiff
wind washing over Combat Outpost Danny True, visibility was approaching something tolerable. And Mount Fhorro Tan had spent most of its wrath before settling down to a low rumble. In the distance, Promise saw the faint outline of the wreckage she'd come down in. She didn't even want to think about the inside of the craft, or the one that Captain Yates narrowly escaped from before it too had imploded. Both dropships looked like a crushed tin of rations, and only one weapon left that calling card. A warp bomb. The technology was bleeding-edge, and because of its inherent instability banned by every star nation in the 'verse. Leave it to a lunatic like Greystone to set one off.

Remains in tow, Promise was almost to Danny True's temporary command center when her mastoid implant crackled to life.
“Lieutenant, is PFC Cervantes with you?”

It was the first time she'd heard the captain's voice since the battle ended. Thank God Yates was still alive. Though Promise would never admit to it, she was glad to have a CO to pass the buck to. “No, ma'am, I thought she was with you.”

“She was but I can't track her. We may have a problem.”

“Stand by, ma'am. Let me try.” Promise opened Victor Company's unit roster and scrolled down to
CERVANTES, JUPITER—PFC
. “Activate Cervantes's emergency transponder, continuous squawk.”

“Please state command authorization,” said her AI.

“Identify Lieutenant Promise T. Paen.” For a second she couldn't remember her command key, because she'd had to change it only the day before. “Ah … Tango-Foxtrot-Six-Gamma-Two-Two-Six-Echo-Alpha-Three-Two.”

“Voice identification confirmed. Hold for retinal scan.” Two seconds later: “Stand by, ma'am. Locating PFC Cervantes now.”

The result was almost immediate.
SIGNAL NOT FOUND.

“Wait a minute, this can't be right.” Jupiter's brain-box should have been throwing off a signal of some kind. “Ping her box again.”

“Negative, ma'am,” her AI said. “The PFC's I-dent isn't squawking. Neither are the tags in her mechsuit.”

“None of them? That's not possible.”

“Same story on my end, Promise,”
said Captain Yates.
“Her brain-box could have been destroyed.”

Every mechsuit driver carried a surgically implanted static backup, or brain-box, at the base of her cerebellum. Its nickname was “the NCO brain,” because having a sergeant of some stripe yelling at you in the background was never a bad thing at all. During combat, it recorded what the driver saw, the actions the driver took, and the outcomes she caused, for after-action reports and reviews. It could also link with the mechsuit's AI combat matrix so that if the driver was incapacitated, a jane or jack could still fight at a reduced level of combat effectiveness with an AI-assist.

A driver's brain-box also stored a unique I-dent, which could be triggered in the event that a Marine fell unconscious or was captured. Either Jupiter's brain-box was malfunctioning or it had been destroyed.
Or it's been tampered with. Theoretically, that's possible.

“Could she have been in the dropship when the warp detonated?”

“No, she was with me,”
Yates answered,
“on my heels, running for the main supply depot. When it blew I was thrown clear. When I got to my feet Jupiter was gone. There was so much chaos…”

“Captain, what if her armor rejected the new codes when I cycled the net? It's happened before. That might explain why we can't find her.”

“That's possible.”
Yates sounded unconvinced.
“I hope to God you're right. Still, where is she?”

“Did any craft depart during the attack?” Promise asked. She hadn't even thought it through. They were missing a Marine. No squawk. No remains. That didn't leave a lot of options, and Jupiter had to be somewhere. And RAW-MC mechanized armor didn't go AWOL.

“I don't know,”
Yates said.
“Wait one while I check. Why? You don't think someone…”

“I can't see how, ma'am, but we can't rule it out either.”

“You
do
think someone … God help us … stand by.”

Promise didn't have to wait long.
“Promise, I've got a controller Lynn on the comm. He's from the Nexus Flight Authority. A shuttle on a grocery run did lift off during the attack.”
Yates paused.
“The pilot didn't have clearance and nearly plowed into one of our LACs as it fled. We were too busy to pursue. I'll patch you in.”

Promise's HUD split into two panels. The captain's eyes filled the left screen and a frazzled-looking civilian contractor appeared on the right. His skin was yellow, very pale, and his uniform was stained and burned. Both hands were badly blistered. A black cap said
NFA
in bold white lettering. Nexus Flight Authority. He was sitting at a workstation and cupping an earpiece. Two holographic windows floated before him. He reached into the right-hand window and flicked the image aside, then again, and then a map appeared.

“All right, Mr. Lynn. We know the shuttle was supposed to return to Nexus after making its run to Danny True. Any theories on where it went?”

“Just a minute, ma'am.”
Lynn looked off-screen. Apparently, Yates wasn't the only one relaying information.

“Ma'am, we're trying to fix the shuttle's position as we speak. We lost it en route to Nexus. It dipped below scanners and disappeared. We fear it may have crashed. We're pulling satellite telemetry now but that will take time for us to sort through and given the atmospheric conditions I doubt it will be much help. As soon as I know more I will…”

“Don't you have an AI?”
Yates said.

“Yes, of course.”
Lynn's eyes hardened.
“We still have to place a work order, and requisition the time. Captain, this isn't a core world with unlimited resources.”

“Mr. Lynn, Lieutenant Paen, my XO, is listening on the comm.”
Lynn's eyes flicked to Promise, and she realized the captain has just made her visible on the man's screen. Lynn did not look pleased. “I've linked the lieutenant into our conversation as a witness. I suggest you do the same on your end. I need immediate access to your satellite grid. Please, patch me through.”

“Ma'am, that's not something I can authorize without checking with my—”

“Lynn, I don't have time for a pissing match between our governments.”
Promise heard the captain's deep breath over the comm.
“Mr. Lynn, I realize this is a local NFA matter. It's your shuttle that's missing after all. I hope your people are all right. I truly do. I will do everything in my power to help you find them. But, I have a missing Marine and reason to believe that shuttle may have abducted her. If she's a hostage that changes everything. I have no desire to interfere in NFA affairs. Please, sir, my Marine was driving a latest-gen RAW-MC mechsuit worth more to the Republic than either one of us fully realizes. My suit's AI is available. I can get us both what we want. You, your shuttle and her crew, and me, my Marine.”

The Kydoimos-6 mechsuit came equipped with several classified systems. Half the drugs in the suit's pharmacope were banned on the civilian market. The software was of course military-grade tech, not to mention the mil-spec AI, which was as close to sentient as humanly possible. Promise was certain the field infantry cloaking device was Yates's primary concern. Other star nations were developing their own versions of it, but only the RAW had an operational model. Assuming the Bureau of Marine Intelligence had that right.

“If my Marine meets an untimely end and my armor falls into enemy hands how do you think that's going to reflect upon me, or you?”

“Ma'am, I don't know…”

“Mr. Lynn, patch me in. That's all I'm asking. I need eyes on the last known position of that shuttle. Just a look, okay. Get me that and I'll get out of your system and out of your hair, deal?”

Lynn was sweating now and his eyes were bouncing between the captain and Promise.

“Sir,”
Yates said with as much respect as she could muster,
“who do you think just hit us? How many were in your tower when it went up?”
Lynn's eyes dropped to his hands.
“Please, sir, help me catch the bastards who did this.”

Lynn clenched his jaw and then turned and punched something into his controls.
“I could get into big trouble for this.”

Promise's HUD chirped without warning. “Ma'am, I've got a prompt from the NFA's planetary control grid,” Bond said. “And a temporary user name and password. Shall I authenticate?”

“I assume the lieutenant has an AI too?”
Lynn said.
“I can only let the two of you in. No more. And you can't stay long, okay?”

“Thank you, Mr. Lynn,”
Yates said.
“The RAW-MC owes you and we always pay our debts.”

“No, ma'am, the Greys owe us all one. I lost good friends today. Don't let them get away with this.”

“I swear to you we won't. Yates, out.”

The right window on Promise's HUD closed and the left grew to fill it.

“Promise, I've got the shuttle on the tower's pickups. There,”
Yates said. The feed streamed into Promise's HUD. There was the parked shuttle, and a work crew was off-loading crates from the cargo bay. A lone silhouette stood by the craft's nose wearing a rebreather, so facial recognition was out of the question. Probably the pilot, Promise thought. Then the pilot grabbed a gravsled loaded with a long crate and disappeared out of view. Yates advanced the vid. The pilot reappeared several mikes later and helped load the crate. Weapons fire and explosions swamped the feed. The craft lifted off, and narrowly avoided colliding with one of their LACs before it flew out of view.

“That's it.”
Yates was calm but Promise could tell that the captain was working hard at it.
“That's the last known position and heading. Looks like the ash and smoke blinded our satcams. We have no way of knowing where she went.”

“I suggest we send a search party along the same heading and see where it leads. We might get lucky and find wreckage.”

“Agreed,”
Yates said.
“For now it's the best we can do. I'll comm the colonel and ask for LAC support. We need all our birds in the sky looking for that shuttle. The colonel's at Nexus in an emergency meeting with Mayor Engel. There's been a terrorist attack and several hundred civilians are dead.”

“What?” Promise said. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“I only found out moments ago. No one's claimed responsibility. Not yet. We expect they will, soon.”

Promise had no doubt who “they” were.

“There's something more going on here.”
Yates sighed.
“Perhaps the mayor can kick loose some civilian craft to help our search. For now, get your people a hot meal and make sure they flush the ash from everything. Then, I want them in their racks. You, too. Victor Company is grounded until further notice.”

 

Fifty-two

MAY 25
TH
, 92 A.E., STANDARD CALENDAR, 1856 HOURS

THE KORAZIM SYSTEM, PLANET SHEOL

SOMEWHERE IN THE RAHAT MOUNTAIN RANGE

Private First Class Jupiter
Cervantes began to come to. She was tied to a metal chair, and her legs were pulled apart and lashed to either side. She'd lost feeling in her feet and she desperately wanted a drink. The sound of unrolling utensils froze her in her seat.

“This will do nicely,” said a male voice. He wheeled something over on squeaky casters. Jupiter tried to crack her eyes and saw what might have been a man. The right eye wouldn't budge and the left wasn't focusing. Her tongue pushed against the wall of the right side of her mouth. Nothing. She was pretty sure the ear on that side wasn't working either.
And I don't regen.
The last time she'd gone under the knife was for the hand. It had gotten crushed by a malfunctioning bulkhead door. She'd been holding it for a friend and nearly lost her hand for the trouble, back before she'd enlisted. A civvie cutter took it and gave her a synth hand in trade. Half a year of therapy left her with a replacement that still didn't feel right. Occasionally, when she was really tired, she still had to think carefully to make it cooperate.

I'm going to kill the man who did this to me.

Suddenly she couldn't breathe.

“Hello, dearie.” His breath smelled like spirits and ash.

He wants you to struggle. Don't.

“I need some information, pet. We can do this the easy way. Or, we can have some fun.” The pressure on her throat let up enough for her to draw in a gulp of air, and a finger pushed her chin to the side. “I vote for fun.” Then he went exploring.

She rammed his head with the numb side of hers. Her attacker swore and crashed into something.

When she didn't see stars she knew the worst was probably true. She'd never see the passageways of a warship the same again, or the setting of the sun, or her reflection in a still pool. She began shaking uncontrollably. Anger over the loss of her eye momentarily overrode her fear. She didn't want an optic. Science had come a long way but even the best tech still saw in digital, whereas the eye worked with the brain to blend everything perfectly. Smoothly. Not discrete. All machines saw were pixels and pieces instead of the whole.