Filston's Initiation (Part II)by Fabio Fontana
Mauler-7562
advanced to the centre of the compound. Rugged oval stubs planted themselves
firmly into the red gravel against the blowing winds. Now that the windbreakers
had been destroyed there was nothing left to stop the gales from swiping the
area with sand and stones. The weaker structures and the smaller loaders
had been tossed to the ground.
Pitbull-3030A
continued its survey of the east side of the compound. The spectral figures of
the depots stood like dark cathedrals of a long forgotten religion. Its four
cannons poised to fire, Pitbull-3030A inspected the entrances and the insides of
all depots for any sign of activity.
Mauler-7562 finally reached the charred craters left by the
super-heated explosions caused by its gauss-destroyers.
A crystalline blanket crowning some of the
cavities was a testimony to the inferno generated by the
weapon. Slowly, through the wind, a charred and twisted shape came into view. It
was or rather, had been, a light tank. The hull was bloated and deformed.
Some shells had just exploded on the outer hull, but some had opened a breach
to the inside. A clean hole on the flank was proof that one shell must have
penetrated and exploded directly inside, exposing the crew to a terrifying but
mercifully quick death.
***
Alek
was satisfied, the surprise attack on the flank, coupled with a lucky hit, had
put out of action an enemy that might have been a serious hassle had it
managed to get the initiative. Filston was linked in the view from Alek’s
host now that he didn't have a host of his own. Nobody had yet said
anything to him, as if he was the one who had been destroyed. This
made him feel better and worse at the same time. On one hand he was afraid of how
the other crew members might judge him, on the other he was
hoping for some words of comfort.
In the
meantime he concentrated on the rest of the tank in Alek’s view: it was hard
to discern whether the wreck belonged to the
Martian Liberation Front, the Seven Star Alliance or even a Rogue Squadron.
The latter was probably the least dangerous of the three possibilities. Rogue
Squadrons were not known for their strong morale, and hitting them hard
usually caused them to desist from their intents.
There
could not be many forces in the sub sector, or they would have been noticed by
the satellites even in this weather. Nevertheless, a tank like that could not have
been too isolated; it could be a forward scout for a larger force or part of
a unit operating in the area. It had to be supported by infantry or
other mechanised units.
***
Pitbull-3030A
entered depot number five. As it stepped out of the red storm, its shape
coalesced from the blur it had been in the unforgiving weather: a huge ball from which four
arms sprouted, bearing fast and light cannons to neutralize any new encounter
before the new encounter could open fire. An elongation at the back curved
to meet leg
actuators capable of propelling the robot at impressive speeds. The dorsal
mount sported a fire and forget missile, the last chance against a target
too tough for its main armament. It had no head, all of its sensors were mounted
in the spherical torso. The whole figure looked like a three metres tall
hunched man, stalking in the dark. And that’s exactly what it was: Pitbull was a
stalker, built to scout, hunt and destroy any target that came across its
path. It was one of the latest models to exit from the orbiting armouries of
Earth, adapted to the new battle-scenarios. No more head-on clashes
of titanic armies, but fragmented skirmishes in cluttered landscapes.
Pitbull-3030A
inspected the depot for any sign of activity: inside
the structure there was nothing but a couple of overturned containers.
With an audible snort, the robot opened its main air locks and
expelled the finer dust that had accumulated inside the filters.
Meanwhile,
Mauler-7562 turned to face the far side of the compound and backed
off towards the last known position of the disabled Weasel. Weasel-1502 laid
on the ground in chunks. The legs were mostly intact, but the torso was a
mess. The first hit had blasted the right shoulder and damaged the head. The
second hit had centred the box-like torso, tearing open the power-plant and
main control centres. The tank must have had an experienced crew with superior
targeting systems. There wasn’t much left even for the salvage teams.
***
Bianco
had a sixth sense for these things. Something about this depot looked too
clean. The disposition of the containers did not seem as casual as in the other
storehouses, where scavengers had looted and salvaged anything that could be
reused.
***
Pitbull-3030A
was a standing target. If they had wanted to shoot it, this would have been
the best occasion. On the other hand, an enemy force inside the building might be
hoping to escape detection and avoid a fire-fight without having an escape route.
Giving
full power to its actuators, Pitbull-3030A sprinted towards the end
of the storehouse. A line of containers was laid like a barrier to protect the far
end of the construction. Pitbull-3030A leapt and landed on top of one of them,
the metal moaning under the effort to sustain the weight of the machine, guns
ready to saturate the area behind with deadly fire. But there was nothing
there. Something however had been there recently, and it had left
faint traces of its heat.
***
Bianco
did not need a full analysis of the traces to realize what they implied: infantry.
"Captain,
we have at least two full squads of ground troops operating in the area.
Considering the weather, they must be equipped with full combat
exoskeletons," announced Bianco.
It was
the information that made everybody click. The complement of robots was
designed to support infantry and other mechanized units on the battlefield, or
to hunt targets in areas were manoeuvrability was needed. But, as powerful as
a giant could be, it would not be able to kill all the bees in a swarm. And
once the bees got past the robots a MeRoCC was an easy target to find and
destroy for a well equipped unit.
Captain Neden gave a sharp command over the long range comm-link: "This
is Mobile Robot Control Centre 453, 3rd Brigade. Enemy activity in sub-sector
70-72 includes heavy infantry and unconfirmed mechanised forces. One unit
lost. Request immediate support and evac."
"Taggarth,
get the MeRocc ready to move to the rendezvous point. Alek and Bianco, recall
your hosts," continued the captain.
"Yes captain!" replied Alek and Bianco in unison.
***
Mauler-7562
was not built for speed. It’s anatomy made it an excellent and
stable gun platform, but it was designed to leave the battle-field when the
battle was over. Still, it spun around and started moving at
full speed towards the MeRoCC, taking only the most basic precautions to avoid
becoming a target for some opportunist. Pitbull-3030A suffered no such
problems. The stalker was back at the MeRoCC in just over two minutes, and
then started scouting the area around the MeRoCC to make sure it was safe.
***
"How
long before you are back to base Alek?" asked Taggarth, silently making
calculations to optimise the re-entry of the robots.
"I
estimate five minutes," said Alek.
Taggarth
fired up the systems at the lowest regime, to avoid giving
the enemy any help in tracing them. He was a veteran, well in
his thirties and precociously aged with the wisdom of years of active service
in many battle-zones. The MeRoCC was his interest and hobby, he shared with
that machine a link similar to that which the robot controllers shared with their
hosts.
The
MeRoCC had been in many conflicts, it had supported the assaults to sector
Beta-Beta 3, had been involved in the Regus 3 campaign and had travelled in
the huge bellies of the singularity engine spaceships to different
star-systems. It had been on Mars for five years now and sported the scars of
the Martian Liberation Front and the Seven Stars Alliance, but it had never
been left on the battlefield, abandoned or salvaged. This was also thanks to
Taggarth.
***
Pitbull-3030A
walked carefully amidst the buildings of the smaller depots near the edge of
the compound where the MeRoCC was hiding. If the enemy was around he would
have to find it in the oldest of fashions: by bumping into it. The nature of
the surroundings and the weather offered little chance of forewarning.
MeRoCC-C323
was a dark mass in the sand-storm. It stood there faking sleep, for any sign
of activity might give away its position before it was ready to leave. Its
class 3A engine would propel it to a considerable speed even at full-load, and
its eight combat grade wheels would allow it to move over all but the most
inhospitable terrain. But MeRoCC-C323 was a powerful work-horse, not a
war-beast. Even so it might have sensed the wolves approaching if the wind
had not been blowing so strong.
Compared
to the mechanized carrier, the men looked frail even in their heavy
exoskeletons. Their strength, and
their only chance to succeede, was in not being noticed. They would destroy or be
destroyed. The men had no weapons that could incapacitate the vehicle from a
distance, but they had explosive charges that would cause it sufficient damage
if used correctly. They moved against the wind from the rear,
to place their charges
under the hull. If they were noticed during this approach they might be
destroyed before having a chance to reach cover, if they were noticed while
retreating, they might not get a chance to detonate the charges from a safe
distance. But the target was close, the dark brown shape of the vehicle was now
distinct in the red storm and they armed their detonators.
Mauler-7562
swung around the last corner to reach the MeRoCC. It approached from the
rear where a gantry would pick it up and pull it inside the
hangar bay. It was then that it noticed the men in exoskeleton retreating from
the MeRoCC. They were too close to the transport to open fire with its heavy
weapons without risking collateral damage the MeRoCC.
***
"We
have the enemy right at our back!" shouted Alek.
Filston
felt a shiver down his spine. He was in the middle of a fight without a weapon
to fight back. He was useless to the rest of the crew.
"Taggarth,
start the MeRoCC! Clear the area and give the robots a clean line of
fire!", ordered the Captain. "Bianco get back!"
"I
will be there in less than ten secs," replied Bianco.
***
It was
no more time to fake sleep for MeRoCC-C323. The turbines of its engines
spun to full speed as it jolted forwards. It’s wheels
turned almost at right angles to draw away from the nearest line of
buildings with increasing speed.
The
men had been detected. The chances of survival, now, were slim. Their
battle-exoskeletons provided excellent protection from infantry weapons, but
the gauss-destroyers of the Mauler would incinerate them
effortlessly. They run for cover and fired the few weapons that could harm
the robot at it.
Laser
fire started to burn across the carapace of Mauler-7562, but it didn’t have
to sit there defenceless, the MeRoCC was clear of the line of fire and the
robot responded to laser fire with its gauss-destroyers. The heavy weapons
were designed for larger targets, but they were still terribly effective
against surprised infantry. It fired them against the buildings and the scattered cover that
hid the soldiers, knowing that it would blow away their hiding places
and everything that was behind it.
The
exoskeletons protected the troopers just long enough to make them realize
the death that was going to follow.
Superheated detonations ripped the metal that encased them first,
then their flesh and bones. They were lost, but they
would not die alone, death would rain down on their enemy too. The leader
of the men in exoskeletons hit the remote command: even the storm could not
subdue the resulting explosion.
MeRoCC-C323’s
rear lifted off the ground as its hull was rendered apart and its wheels were
blown off the their axels. It paused the time of a heart-beat in mid-air and then started
a descent that ended with a crash on the red ground. After that, only the whistling
of the wind could be heard.
END OF PART II
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