The cockpit was nearly black, buried meters inside the hull. The controls arrayed around her were somewhere between a submarine and a spacecraft. A dull red lamp pulsed on the main circuit panel indicating standby power. It illuminated the fuzz of a little plush bunny wedged in a nearby conduit.
She slammed the throttle into full reverse and her machine stumbled backwards. The maneuvering system desperately tried to keep its footing on the sharp incline but began to slide. She leaned the machine into the the slide, dropping away just in time to hear explosions rip through the hilltop where she had just stood. Frequency analysis indicated the characteristic sounds of RACK jacketed, high velocity, shaped charge rounds. Her intuition hadn't been far off, but those were much bigger booms than she had hoped for.
full story continues below...
The sunsets were vibrant. Layered shades of violet and gold. Thin wisps of green would soon appear in the night, but for now the auroras were hidden behind the gem tone clouds perched uneasily on the horizon.
Paige was sat cross legged, squinting at the bright sunset through tinted glasses. A clear thin tube snaked across her face, providing extra oxygen for her to breathe comfortably in the thin atmosphere. Beneath her was the enormous metal bulk of a silent war machine, waiting patiently for her to return to its cockpit. She tried to think of something to write about, to take her mind off of what she might need to do.
A wind blew across the jagged landscape. Across the grey substrate, branching veins of bright red mercury-rich cinnabar and arsenic-laden realgar analogs gleam and shimmer against the shifting sky. The mercury compounds facing south blackened from the local sun made a natural compass in the terrain. The beauty of the planet was matched only by its toxicity. But it provided easily accessible minerals useful to the war effort and so Paige waited for the call.
The mission briefing told her to hold back and keep her war machine powered down to stay off Imperial scans. The ground forces had arrived concealed in a supply convoy. If they were able to take the Imperial mining facility quick enough, then there would be no need for her. If not bloodless, as near as could be. No need to mention that this would leave all of the mining infrastructure intact, while a hundred tonnes of war machine stomping around tends to lead to collateral damage. On the other hand, if the Imperials were able to get to the hanger and deploy their own war machines, well... that's why she was there.
Just as she started writing there was a hiss in her ear. Her radio was trying to make sense of something. Could just be one of the hundred thousand or so electromagnetic pulses that tear through the ether each day which ruin all long distance communication, or it could be the prelude to an encrypted low baud message trying to break through the noise. A soothing synthesized voice chirps the message at her from a spatially localized source somewhere above and to the right of her head. The direction told her that the message signature was signed by a source in orbit.
Some people feel adrenaline as a surge: heart pounding, fingers tingling, teeth gritting. Paige disconnected. Key frames of moments, everything between interpolated. She remembered the moment sitting on the shoulder of her metal companion dozens of meters in the air trying to exorcise her demons. But then she was strapping into the cockpit as the thick armored door mechanism sealed in behind her. Whatever happened in between those two moments were just part of the flow. She could guess, but they weren't important.
The cockpit was nearly black, buried meters inside the hull. The controls arrayed around her somewhere between a submarine and a spacecraft. A dull red lamp pulsed on the main circuit panel indicating standby power illuminating the fuzz of a little plush bunny wedged in a nearby conduit. The HUD's fine hexagonal projection plates invisible in the dim light. Flanked by a large multifunction display on each side of her and bank of target and systems displays in between, all dark.
Checking the auxiliary battery state and flicking on the primary power, she began the startup sequence. Rapid but unhurried. As a gladiator, she had been forced to drill the sequence thousands of times. The faster you powered up, the more likely you got the first hit, the more likely you got to eat. She noted a few minor deviations in the readouts and sets a reminder to talk to the engineers about after the mission. But they were all within safe tolerances. The HUD sputtered to life, and low resolution hexes of external cameras began to appear, slowly sharpening to a detailed depth accurate representation of the landscape.
She powered up the legs first. Nav, comms, sensors, and everything else could come online in transit. She had the ground and the sky as her compass. She slid the throttle smoothly forward. By the time comms were ready she was a kilometer away from her start and gaining speed to her target throttle position. A distorted voice pinged in from the south west, but it was unintelligible. She sends a tactical data link message asking for non-audio communication using a control on the machine's throttle. A line of garbled characters spilled onto the lower left of her HUD, slowly refining as error correction and message duplicates formed a consensus.
"HANGER DECOY. 250 TONNES INCOMING 330° NW AT 10KM."
Recon had located a probable hanger bay south of the Imperial facility, and was designated as Paige's primary target, but this message signed by the ground team indicated otherwise. She thumbed the acknowledge button and plugged the numbers into the nav computer. It wasn't always easy to tell how many units were involved if they were clustered tightly when all you have are garbled radar cross sections, so that could be 1 to 5 units. Given the terseness of the message, she doubted any more information would be forthcoming. She aimed for the main road north of the facility and hoped to meet the enemy there, however many there were. She had little doubt that they would sooner annihilate the facility with everyone inside than turn it over to the Resistance.
There were more troubling questions still. She scanned the sitrep on a multifunction display to her left, ground scans didn't indicate any large buildings north of the facility. Either they were dropped in or they were on a patrol when the attack started. She felt a coldness in the pit in her stomach. If the ground forces were right, she was up against more than double the tonnage than she could bring to bear. And if they were dropped in then this entire operation could be a trap. She was going to need an unfair advantage. She sent a message to the ground forces, not expecting a reply. If the facility had any defenses that could be used to their advantage, she was going to need them.
She crested a hill and with image enhancement her cockpit display she could see the road in the distance. It was empty, and the facility was intact, so if the intel was right, she was going to get a few moments before the enemy arrived. She looked at the passive scans. The spectrum was a wreck. The algorithms were doing everything they could to clean it up. Thermals didn't show anything but a bright spot in the facility where they were probably doing some crude on site extraction. The rest looked like noise.
"ENEMY IFF DARK. FACILITY DEFENSES OFFLINE. FIREFIGHT PINNING US DOWN. PREVAILING CONFIDENCE 52%."
Paige saw the message from the troops and the little voice chirped it in her ear at the same time. She brought the throttle back and aimed for some cover on a blocky hilltop overlooking the road. She didn't know if the enemy was actually coming in on the road, but it was a good vantage point either way. On inspiration she charged her capacitors as she settled her war machine into a deep crouch partially concealed behind a rocky outcropping. The capacitors would slowly discharge on their own, but she didn't expect to wait for long. She purged heat from her machine, trading some battery power for a lower heat signature. It was possible someone saw a bright blip when the thermoelectric coolers kicked on, but after she switched her machine's systems into standby, she looked for all the world like a hundred tonnes of rock.
There was nothing in the briefing about enemy loadouts, but this far from a populated system she felt like they were probably running something simple and local. They had easy access to explosives and propellant, that was the main purpose of the mining facility after all, plus a lot of iron rich minerals in the system. She suspected solid RACK propellant projectile autocannons and anti-armor shaped charges. Could be incendiary rather than explosive. Might have been wishful thinking, but she had a foil for ferromagnetic projectiles. And once she deployed it, she had to make sure they didn't get away to reveal the secret.
Movement. There. 3 clicks up on the west side of the road, dodging around rocks, moving slowly, not putting off a lot of heat. 2 small armor units and one medium in the same class as the machine she sat in. Three versus one weren't the most favorable of odds, but perhaps better than a single superheavy. She looked over her weapon systems as she waited for her moment.
Her machine was equipped primarily with a direct assault loadout. No artillery. She had a pair of light autocannons loaded up with "Reliant" ammo - only really good against small vehicles. But she also had a pile of high explosive fin-deploying "R&R" laser guided missiles that she could deploy salvos of 32 at a time if she needed to lose weight fast. But at that rate she only had two salvos. It was the pair of maglev canons loaded with cylinders the size of two stacked paint cans that was her bread and butter. The range and stopping power was worth the lower fire rate compared to traditional autocannons.
She watched the enemy approach, estimating how long until they were in range of her weapons. They all seemed to be in good condition, probably never seen action. The smaller machines moved awkwardly, timidly. Like ducklings following their mother. They may not had even heard a distress call from the facility and had just been staying off the road to avoid damaging it. The stripes under the sensor cluster of their machines confirmed her suspicion: they were cadets. She turned her attention to the big machine, it moved with considerably more purpose and agility, each step solid on the terrain. Imaging indicated an awful lot of large diameter autocannons mounted to it.
She glanced at the power panel, the capacitor indicators still burned amber. She flips the firing solution computer out of standby, quickly followed by the primary weapon systems, then she locks onto the cluster of enemy armor. As soon as she heard the locking tone the three war machines twitched: torsos twisting and looking for what was targeting them. She heard their active scans pinging out, their locations glowed brightly on her scanners now as they power up fully. But the landscape still concealed her for the moment. She grimaced and loosed a full volley into the air, high over their heads. They wouldn't even see it in the darkening light of blue hour, but their active scans would show a huge radar cross section. She doubted they would expect it to be nearly three dozen missiles. She felt their confusion as they spun around, still unable to get a fix on what was happening.
She activated the guidance laser and the missiles suddenly stall and then plummet towards the targets. Right before impact she twitches a trigger finger. Her maglev cannons drink deep of the capacitors and slam a pair of rounds into the side of the largest unit at several times the local speed of sound. Armor plating vaporizes in a shower of sparks in the instant before the missiles rain down on the three units. Their high explosive designation was a well earned one. Blue-white eruptions coincide with each impact. She doesn't pause to see if they eject. Her guidance laser had almost certainly given her location away.
Paige slammed the throttle into full reverse and her machine stumbled backwards. The maneuvering system desperately tried to keep its footing on the sharp incline but began to slide. She leaned the machine into the the slide, dropping away just in time to hear explosions rip through the hilltop where she had just stood. Frequency analysis indicated the characteristic sounds of RACK jacketed, high velocity, shaped charge rounds. Her intuition hadn't been far off, but those were much bigger booms than she had hoped for. She cast an eye onto her right-hand MFD and maps the magnetic countermeasure system to a hotkey on her targeting joystick. All while maintaining a semi-controlled fall down the hill.
Her machine crouched and dug in, stopping the slide and turned southwest and came around the hill. She hoped that they expected her on the north side. As her machine's sensors cleared the ledge of the hill she saw the two smoking hulks of the 75 tonne units, inert. She didn't have time to feel remorse before she heard the lock warning klaxxon. The big one was looking right at her. She felt her machine's hull shudder with the impact of the enemy autocannons, armor groaning and roaring in response.
Reflexively she burns more battery on thermoelectrics, lighting her up on enemy scans as an undifferentiated white hot sphere and charges down the bottom of the hill as incoming fire leaves craters around her machine's feet. The remaining enemy had lost its left arm and shoulder, but the autocannons on the right were enough of a threat. As soon as she could feel the enemy pilot get their bearings back from the thermal whiteout, she hit that hotkey she prepared. She felt the hair on her head stand up. It was called a Lenz-Eddy Magnetic Defense System and the hum in the cockpit was deafening as the magnetic fields rapidly oscillated.
The enemy pilot unleashed high explosive rounds right at her sensor cluster. Most of them skittered off or exploded just before impact. She grinned out of manic relief, she could hardly believe that it worked. The LEMDS was particularly effective against shaped explosive rounds but damage indicators still flashed angrily at her from the HUD. She mentally balanced out the cost of ammo versus the cost of repairs. Even if she could survive it, each second of damage could be an hour of an engineer's time with the amount of firepower she had bearing down on her. She glanced at her scanners and decided to roll the dice.
Paige turned off the safeties on the missiles and charged the capacitors. The enemy inexorably approached. Its weapon muzzles began to glow a dull red as it fired round after round into her torso. Explosions rocked her violently in the cockpit. The little plush bunny's ears thrashed as if it was trying to escape the chaos. The two scarred war machines faced each other on the road. She took a breath and fired everything she had.
No aiming at the sky, no cover, no minimum safe distance, no tricks. Just the deep bass thud of the maglev canons firing and the harsh screams of dozens of missiles launching from their tubes on her machine's shoulders. Her vision seared even as the cockpit tried to compensate for the brightness. She mashed her right foot into the floor pedal steering to starboard and she felt her machine stop shaking from fresh impacts. She twisted her machine's back torso to look. The enemy machine was still slowly moving forward but spasming. Its sensor cluster and half its torso was entirely gone.
The bulky awkward metal biped stumbled. It teetered for a long moment and then tipped forward. Vibrant flames blowing out of the voids in its armor and black smoke trailed the hulk as it slammed into the ruined road. She saw the back of the machine. She averted her eyes and dropped an active sensor ping looking for more hostiles.
"MOPPING UP. ARE WE SECURE?"
The question carried with it an unspoken meaning. Was their victory in the halls of the facility was about to be wiped out by 250 tonnes of Imperial metal boot? She flipped over to audio since she was so close to the facility, she figured they could hear her at this range.
"I'm not seeing any other hostile armor in the area. Confidence high, will keep an eye out for you." said Paige.
"Good to hear your voice. I was getting nervous. We still have a few Imperials taking pot shots at us, but the internal defenses are on our side now, and I'm hoping to get them to surrender momentarily." the fidelity was still terrible, like an old abused Edison cylinder, but Paige recognized the relief in the voice of the ground forces leader.
A hiss in her ear, the synth voice relayed a message from orbit. All clear it said. She changed course for a nearby hilltop. Another active scan showed no other vehicles or armor in the area. She pulled the throttle to all stop and started powering down systems. The hull shuddered and the angry hum of LEMDS faded out. Paige twisted the cockpit release and adjusted her oxygen line.
She climbed back on top of the machine. The acrid smell of burned metal and spent solid propellant hit her. It was a scent that carried a lot of difficult memories. Hard decisions and regrets. But it was also somehow comforting, almost sweet. Like gunpowder and creme brulee. She cast her gaze around the newly christened battlefield, listening to the metal creak beneath her boots as it cooled and shifted. The three downed machines still sent up black plumes. A sudden thunder crack echoed from the big machine and reddish purple sparks poured out of rents in its hull from the RACK rounds cooking off.
She looked at the wrecks she had created. The auroras shone overhead. The air went quiet. Only a muffled hum from the facility behind her. As the wind picked up it was overcome with the sound of the fine sand blowing against the rocks. A slight flutter in the cloth tied around her waist. She pulled a pad of paper and pen from the pilot's kneeboard on her shorts and dropped against the metal. She felt it radiating warmth against the back of her thighs. Little shudders from the machine vibrated through her. From where she sat, looking out over her vanquished foes, the rocks were black but she knew behind her the landscape was covered in red. Green waves and streaks lit up the sky. She put pen to paper.
It is hard not to see the beauty in destruction when destruction is all I know. The most creative feat I have attained is to better tune my weapons. And if I am honest, I feel a satisfaction in doing so.
Beauty and satisfaction intermingled with disgust. If I am only doing what I must - to survive - why must I feel such self-loathing? It is worth the price?
I don't wish ill upon those who seek to annihilate me, mine, and many others besides. Truly. I only feel a pang of regret and hope that one day things can be different.
Is this really the only way? Is it possible to bargain with those who debase and enslave? They don't even hate us. No more than they would hate a field of wheat that bit back or a warehouse of wrenches that happened to somehow run away. They're perplexed. Afraid. Indignant.
Is it right of me to steal myself? Sentient wheat? An escaped wrench?
The voice in her ear chirped the exfil coordinates. The facility secured. She takes a deep breath of the air, polluted though she had made it. The next assignment may not have a breathable atmosphere at all. She slides her notebook and pen back into the kneeboard. The temperature was dropping rapidly in the young night and the breeze blossomed goosebumps across her skin. She looked up at the unfamiliar sky with its dancing lights.
hope you enjoyed!
this is a heavily revised version of the rough draft i published 4 days ago
i am much happier with this version, it has gone through I think 4 5 major revisions since the original post
i think i consider this "good enough" and will move onto some other vignettes
i want to keep exploring this character and also some of the others in this setting while i practice incorporating what makes this setting so different from others with big robots