Ronin (The Pike Chronicles Book 3) (16 page)

Henderson walked up to the weapon rack and said, “We’re going to start with the rail guns.” He picked one up off the rack with one hand and a large magazine with the other. “You will approach the rack, one by one, take your weapon and your ammo, and load your weapon like this.” Henderson slapped the magazine into the rail gun and the weapon came to life. “The grip of your rail gun will recognize your combat suit and communicate with it. Your HUD will display your ammo levels, allowing you to time your reload. In the rare case of a malfunction, your HUD will inform you of the problem, so you can fix it.” He paused, as if waiting for questions. There were none so he continued. “Once your weapon is loaded you will each step up to a firing point and await further instructions. Understood?”

“Yes,” came the now practiced response.

“Begin,” said Henderson.

When it was her turn Breeah stepped up to the rack and effortlessly picked up a rail gun and magazine. She marveled at the size of the weapon and how light it felt in her hands. She thought she had gotten used to the suit’s strength, but was still clearly in awe. The weapon had an open slot for the magazine and she smacked it into place. A new number instantly appeared on her HUD, displaying five hundred rounds available. She wondered how many magazines she would have, and stepped up to the firing point next to her father. She looked down the firing alley at the target in the distance. Out of curiosity she raised and pointed her weapon. Crosshairs appeared on her HUD and she adjusted the gun’s position until it locked onto the target.

“When you raise your weapon your suit’s targeting system will activate. The crosshairs will allow you to adjust your aim for more precise firing. The rail gun will fire in the direction you aim, but with some weapons you may have access to intelligent ordnance. In those instances, when you lock onto a target and fire the ordnance will follow the target, even if it moves. Now I want all of you to raise your weapons and aim at your targets.” Henderson paused briefly. “Fire.”

The room erupted with weapon fire, but the deafening sound she expected was muffled. The suit obviously had built in ear protection. Breeah squeezed off a few rounds and her HUD registered direct hits on the target. She fired off a few more and scored perfect hits again. This was too easy.

“Cease fire,” said Henderson.

The range fell quiet.

“That was your warm up,” said Henderson. “Now that you know how everything works let’s give you some real shooting practice.”

The target disappeared and an orb appeared where the target had stood, hovering.

“You now have a new target. This target will move. You will adjust your aim accordingly and continue firing.”

Breeah lined up the orb with her crosshairs.

“Fire.”

She pulled the trigger and hit the orb. It shrunk in size and began to dance in the air. Breeah followed. She locked on and fired again. Another hit. It got smaller and moved faster. She pursued, matching its speed. She fired again, but missed. She adjusted her aim, compensating for its movement and fired another round. Success. It shrunk some more, and continued to speed up. The thing moved too fast now, making it almost impossible to get a lock. She had to anticipate its movements in order to get a hit.

She fired and missed. After several unsuccessful attempts she changed tactics. Rather than shooting single rounds, she sprayed multiple bullets in the direction she thought the orb would go. Her HUD registered hits again, but the orb kept getting smaller and faster until it became impossible to hit. Soon many of the Reivers had the same problem.

“When your target has become too small and you can no longer keep up, say the words, ‘reset target’ and it will return to its original size,” said Henderson.

“Reset target,” Breeah repeated and the orb returned to its full size.

They continued training with the rail guns for a good hour, then switched to energy weapons. Other than the huge size of the weapons, Breeah was familiar with both. The practice was more about getting used to the suit and how it interacted with the weapons, than actually learning how to shoot. Later in the day they used intelligent ordnance. These were not standard issue, but they still needed to experience how they worked. These presented a different challenge. With the rail guns and the energy weapons, when the orb became too fast she had to anticipate its direction. With intelligent ordnance, however, she actually had to try and get a lock on the target, which was a lot harder than it seemed. Surprisingly, with little practice she found that the frequency of her locks more consistent.

When Sergeant Henderson sent them back to remove their suits she felt a pang of disappointment. They returned to line up in front of the platforms that held their suits that morning.

“Step up to your platform and place your boots in the outlines displayed,” said Henderson.

Breeah put her feet where the platform indicated and the suit began to release her. First her helmet retracted, exposing her head. The suit continued to free her arms, torso, and finally her legs. She stepped off the platform, as did her father.

“You did well, child,” said Jonas.

“Thank you, father. It was fun.”

A youthful smile spread across his face. His eyes sparkled. “I believe the fun is just beginning.”

“I wouldn’t mind one of those Diakan suits,” said Michael, gesturing toward an armor clad Diakan striding by, his heavy boots sinking deep into the mud as he passed.

“You think the Diakans are going to suit up a bunch of lowly humans in those things? That’ll be the day,” said Jason.

“Why not? They give us weapons don’t they? Why not some of those suits?”

“Because the Diakans don’t give a shit about us,” said Jon’s father. “Haven’t I explained all this a hundred times?”

“I know, I know,” said Michael. “This is all part of their bigger war with the Juttari. That’s the only reason they’re here. If we all get shot up by the Chaanisar, what do the Diakans care? There’s plenty more where we came from.”

Jon quietly listened to the conversation, chewing on some mystery meat. He looked around the camp at the men. The resistance had grown quite a bit over the past few years, to the point where they might resemble an actual army.

“That’s right,” said Jon’s father. “The real battle is being fought in space. Massive armadas are slugging it out for control of this system as we speak.”

“More proof that we’re important to the Diakans,” said Michael.

“Don’t be a fool. We don’t mean shit to the Diakans. The only thing that matters is the jump gate. That’s why the Juttari first came, and that’s what the Diakans and Juttari are fighting for control of.”

“So why are they bothering with Earth at all?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Earth is the only planet in the system capable of supporting life. To control the system, and its jump gate, you need to control Earth. The Diakans can establish permanent bases here. Or, have us establish them.”

“First you tell me that they won’t give us any suits because they don’t give a shit about us, and now you’re saying they’re going to give us bases to control the system.”

“Do you know what a proxy is?”

“Sure.”

“We would become a proxy. A Diakan puppet. They would allow us bases because they would still be pulling our strings.”

“So why not now?”

“Because we haven’t won. The Juttari need to be defeated first.”

Jon didn’t like the idea of being anybody’s puppet. But he figured they needed to do whatever it took to defeat the Juttari, and then they could worry about the Diakans. They had come a long way over the past few years, but it hadn’t been easy. The Chaanisar attack that had killed his mother had been the beginning of the Chaanisar’s year of terror. For the following twelve months the Chaanisar mercilessly punished Earth’s population. Their goal had been to destroy the resistance movement, but it made them stronger. As more and more people were slaughtered, more sought revenge. The steady stream of Diakan weapons continued, giving the population hope. The ranks of the resistance grew. Now, just three years later, they fought for the fate of their planet.

“How do you feel, son?” asked his father. “You’re quiet tonight.”

“I’m okay,” said Jon. “Just thinking.”

“He’s wondering what the hell he’s eating,” said Jason, laughing.

“Who knows what this shit is the Diakans feed us,” said Michael. “I’m pretty sure there’s no such thing as a Diakan chef, I can tell you that much.”

“It’s better than going hungry. Don’t forget that,” said his father.

Jason and Michael both frowned at his father’s seriousness, but didn’t bother arguing.

“You thinking about tomorrow?” asked his father.

“Not really.”

“Well it’s going to be a big day. Might even decide it once and for all.”

“If I can kill a few Chaanisar, I’ll be happy.”

His father frowned. “You can’t kill them all, son. Don’t forget that.”

No, he wouldn’t forget. He wouldn’t forget what they did to his mother, or to the planet. He watched another armored Diakan walk by and spit. What had humans done to deserve this fate? To become helpless pawns in galactic wars. His father was right. The Diakans didn’t care about Earth or its people. He would never forget that either.

***

“Jon, wake up,” said his father.

Jon jumped and grabbed his weapon. Ready. “What is it? Where are they?”

“Relax. We’re not under attack.”

Jon rubbed his eyes. “What’s going on? What time is it?”

“Look,” said his father, pointing to the sky. “It’s happening. They’re fighting for orbital control”

Jon followed his father’s and his cousin’s gaze towards the sky. The night was alive with movement. Dots of light, many in clusters, were zipping to and fro. Chasing. Evading. He was amazed at how many of them were up there. One of the dots flashed brightly then disappeared. Jon heard several gasps and exclamations. It seemed like the whole camp watched the show.

“Did you see that?” said Michael. “What do you think it was? Juttari, or Diakan?”

“No way of knowing,” said his father. “But I’m pretty sure the Diakans have the upper hand.”

“Why?” asked Jon, wondering how his father could make any sense out of the dancing dots of light.

“Think about it. The Diakans need to come into the system through the jump gate. They’ve already won control of the jump gate. By controlling the jump gate the Diakans are free to bring in reinforcements and supplies at will, while the Juttari are cut off. The fact that the Diakans have made it this close to Earth tells me that they have continued to win. With that much momentum they’ll be pretty hard to stop.”

Another dot flashed and disappeared to more chatter from the audience. Jon found it all very surreal. This battle in space would decide the fate of Earth, yet it felt like a celestial sporting event.

“Doesn’t matter much to us,” said Jason. “We still fight tomorrow, no matter what happens up there.”

“Sure it matters,” said Jon’s father. “The battle will keep the Juttari occupied and hopefully unable to bomb us from orbit. If we’re lucky and the Diakans win, we might even get some orbital support.”

“Why don’t they just quit?” Jon mumbled.

“What did you say?”

“The Juttari. They’re going to lose. Why wouldn’t they just surrender?”

“Who knows how these damn aliens think,” said Jason.

“They’re fanatics,” said his father. “That’s why they don’t quit. They’re religious zealots.”

“Fine by me,” said Jon. “I hope they’re all wiped out.”

Jon cursed himself for staying up and watching the battle. His eyes burned and his stomach ached. He wondered if his abdominal pain was the result of lack of sleep, or that crap the Diakans fed him. He threw cold water on his face and grabbed a cup of the coffee. It didn’t do his stomach any good, but the caffeine helped pierce the fog in his head. Today was the big day. They were hitting a Juttari stronghold.

He sipped his coffee, and watched the Diakans assemble their military hardware. Jon was still baffled at how the Diakans managed to get all this equipment and personnel down here. Smuggling energy weapons for the resistance was one thing, but here they had assembled an entire army. How did they ever get all this past the Juttari? His father speculated that the Diakans had superior covert capabilities, allowing individual ships to sneak down unnoticed. He knew about the technology that helped keep the resistance hidden from the Juttari. They must use similar tech to hide the military buildup as well.

He watched an array of Diakan heavy weapons prepare for the assault. Giant mechs and tanks formed up in battle position. The plan called for the heavy weapons to punch a hole in the Juttari defenses allowing for the remaining ground forces to enter. The Diakans, wearing their armored suits, would spearhead the advance, followed closely by the resistance. He wasn’t crazy about the plan, but it was more than they’d dreamed of accomplishing just a few years ago.

Jon strapped on his body armor, wondering whether it provided any protection at all. It was clearly inferior to the Diakan suits, but it had to be better than bare skin. He checked the cartridge on his energy weapon. Full charge. Inspected his sidearm. Loaded and ready. Last, he felt for his blades. They wouldn’t do him much good in this battle, but he felt naked without them.

His father and cousins were geared up and the four of them waited for the battle to start. They were sullen. Even his cousins had no jokes this morning. With increasing Diakan involvement, things had changed for the resistance. Where they once acted independently, they now took direction from the Diakans. He supposed it was logical. They wouldn’t have gotten this far without their help. Nonetheless, it was difficult to put your life in someone else’s hands. Especially when that someone was an alien. In the resistance they trusted each other with their lives. Could they trust the Diakans?

The tanks moved first. For something so large they were surprisingly quiet. The fact that they didn’t actually touch the ground might have had something to do with it. The mechs followed. The ground tremored as they advanced with deafening mechanical wines. Jon knew there had been more, unseen activity prior to this. Stealth units and drones would have been deployed to soften up the target and eliminate any surprises.

Jon looked up and saw nothing but a vast morning sky. He wondered which side had the upper hand in the space battle. The timing of the ground attack had to coincide with the celestial contest, but the Diakans told them very little. The resistance only knew the Juttari stronghold was some kind of operations center. Yet again, they would have to trust the Diakans. In the distance he saw flashes of light followed by consecutive concussions that sounded like to rolling thunder. It had begun.

They spent much of the morning waiting and listening to the unrelenting sounds of battle. They had no way of knowing which side was winning, either in space, or on the ground. Jon’s nerves were stretched thin.

“Those big bastards went in hours ago. You’d think they would’ve broken through by now,” said Jason.

“What are you worrying about,” said Michael. “The longer they pound the Juttari the better for us.”

“I didn’t come here to sit around and wait while the Diakans fight my battles,” Jason said, irritated.

“Neither did I,” said Jon.

“Don’t worry, you’re all going to get your chance soon enough,” said his father.

As if on cue a loud klaxon rang throughout the camp.

Jason said, “See Jon, even the Diakans listen to your father.”

The men took their positions alongside the other resistance fighters. The Diakans lined up in front of them. A horn sounded and the Diakans began to move out. First at a walk, then a run, their suits gleaming in the morning sunlight.

Minutes later another horn sounded and the ranks of the resistance followed.

“Here we go,” said Jason, as they began marching.

Jon’s father said, “No matter what happens, the four of us stick together.”

“You won’t get any arguments from me,” said Michael.

“Me neither,” said Jason.

His father looked at Jon and said, “How about you?”

“Where you go I go,” Jon said.

His father patted him on the back. “Good,” he said.

They walked some distance without seeing anything, but the sounds of battle grew louder. The pungent smell of burning circuits wafted through the air. The odor stronger and they passed their first casualty. The charred remains of one of the giant mechs lay on its back. Its Diakan pilot hung from the cockpit, its face buried in the mud. It had tried to escape to safety but had been too riddled with shrapnel to make it. Jon inspected the body with grim satisfaction. The Diakans died just like humans. For all their technology they couldn’t escape the reaper. No one stopped to see if the Diakan still lived. They knew the Diakans would do the same were it one of them lying in the mud. A very strange alliance, thought Jon.

The shelling became deafening and Jon could now see two mechs towering up ahead. Long tails of smoke streaked forth as they launched missile after missile at the stronghold. Behind the mechs stood an armored Diakan waving them forward.

They approached the Diakan who said, “Keep moving. We’ve punched a hole in the stronghold’s defenses. You will advance straight into the stronghold.”

“Let’s go,” said Jon’s father.

“He’s the one with the armor,” said Jason. “Why is he hanging back here?”

“He’s waiting for us to soften the Juttari up for him,” said Michael.

Jason said, “Goddamn Diakans. All talk.”

Just ahead of the mechs they passed some of the big Diakan tanks. The two mammoth beasts hovered there, firing their giant guns. As they passed, Jon covered his ears. His helmet supposedly had built in ear protection, but the sound of those big guns was still deafening. They continued toward the stronghold, moving in a crouch now. They saw more Diakan casualties and Jon became less envious of the Diakan armor. The suits hadn’t done shit for them.

Up ahead the Juttari structure filled the landscape. It appeared to have taken quite a pounding. It was pockmarked and charred but its structural integrity remained intact.

Heavy bolts of blue shot out from the roof toward the ground. An energy cannon. Jon turned to see a swathe of resistance fighters fall. The fire shifted toward them.

“Get down,” Jon yelled. They hit the mud just as the energy bolts swept past their position. The sound of splattering mud drowning out the electric hum of the energy fire passing them. It continued moving away, raking the human line. Jon saw dozens more fall as the cannon found its marks. It moved steadily down the resistance line and more fell. This was what killed the Diakans they came across. Why the heavy guns hadn’t taken it out yet? There must have been multiple defenses in place. The Diakan guns couldn’t destroy them all.

“Run!” said his father when the fire was far enough away.

Jon surged to his feet running as fast as he could, each step a struggle against the mud’s grip. His cousins were right beside him. Nobody argued. If they stayed where they were they’d surely die when the cannon fire returned.

They neared the building when Jon spotted the breach the Diakan had mentioned. A wide gash ran along the side of the building.

“There,” said his father, pointing to a group of Diakans along the opening. They ran to take position behind them. He glanced back to see that another group of humans had followed. The Diakans fired sporadically into the building, but Jon didn’t notice anyone firing back. A Diakan turned and signaled to enter the building.

“What do we do?” said Jason, as the Diakans disappeared inside.

“We follow,” said his father. “Stay behind the Diakans.”

They entered the building, the other humans staying close behind. Inside was mostly dark, except for a sinister green glow. It must be some sort of backup lighting.

“What the hell is this?” said Jason, looking at one of the walls. Alien symbols were sprawled across its length. The green glow morphing their shapes to seem threatening.

“Juttari religious symbols,” said his father.

“You’ve seen them before?” asked Jon.

“Yeah,” said his father in a tone that stopped Jon from asking where.

They followed the Diakans deeper into the building. Jon felt like he was walking toward the center of a spider’s web, the arachnid hungrily waiting for him to pass the point of no return.

“I don’t like this,” whispered Jon.

“Neither do I,” said his father.

“Where are they hiding?” said Jason.

“I don’t know,” said Jon’s father.

They continued down the maze of dimly lit catacombs. They could hear weapon fire now, but the sound seemed to come from all directions, making it difficult to pinpoint where the battle was being fought. Another group of Diakans had engaged the enemy. Jon tightened his grip on his weapon. It would be their turn soon enough.

They rounded a corner into a long corridor. The Diakans were just ahead, advancing slowly. Halfway down the length of the corridor they encountered the enemy. As a barrage of energy weapon fire flashed through the dark corridor, a brilliant blue light replaced the ominous green glow. Jon crouched, then lunged toward the wall, searching for cover. A prolonged firefight ensued. As Jon’s eyes adjusted, he was able to pick out the enemy at the far end of the corridor. A group of Chaanisar.

His fire joined the rest, shooting repeatedly at the Chaanisar positions. The resistance followed. The increased fire suppressed the Chaanisar response, giving the Diakans an opportunity to advance.

“Let’s go,” said his father.

Jon looked over his shoulder to see the rest of the humans holding their ground. Perhaps they thought it better to stay put and provide covering fire. Jon continued moving and firing. Several Diakans bolted forward and crashed into the Chaanisar. A blur of movement and energy fire erupted. It lasted for several seconds. When it stopped a Diakan emerged, giving the signal to advance.

“Signal all clear to the others,” said his father.

Jon turned. “Oh no.” The resistance fighters who stayed behind lay on the ground, slaughtered. Several had been disemboweled.

His father turned to look and said, “Juttari.”

An icy chill climbed up Jon’s spine as realization took hold. Those men were butchered by Juttari claws.