Chapter 933: Edge of Twilight

Chapter 933: Edge of Twilight

The Malevolent Universe laughs at all of our plans. - Trek'Tik, Treana'ad Philosopher, 12 PG

The day was warm and pleasant and the breeze washed away the smell of burnt crops and the smoke from where the fields had burned. The haze from the smoke made the sun burn a malevolent red in the sky.

Ret.lek sat in the cockpit of his mek, the hatch open, eating a ration pack with the included spoon. His four greenies all sat on the forward pulse laser emitter, eating their own rations. The heavy mek vibrated slightly and a faint liquid swooshing sound could be heard through the armor.

"...act like an asshole and now look at you," Ret.lek was saying. He gestured with his spoon after eating the beef stew off of it. "You could have just stayed home, play hide the sausage or whatever you got with your mate, but nooooo, you had to come here, to the Terran Tomb Worlds, and act all tough."

He pointed with the spoon again after he scooped out more beef stew, the thick liquid glittering in the diffuse light as he jabbed it at the warmek only fifteen feet from him.

"And look what it got you," Ret.lek said. He took the bite, chewed, swallowed, and pointed again. "I can't even tell what the fuck you were, man. I'm not even sure all your limbs are still there."

He pointed again.

The mek across from him was slightly taller than his own mek's 20 meter height. Its armor was rent, torn, slagged, and scorched. Multiple blowthroughs on the front chest of the bipedal warmek. The hatch was open, showing a two armed pilot that was nothing more than burnt meat and melted pilot's suit. The burnt skull still had a scorched and slightly melted neural helmet on it.

"Worse, your dumb ass thought you and your five friends could take me in that stumbling hunk of junk," Ret.lek continued talking to the corpse fifteen feet away.

"lurrrrrr," 930 put up a meme of a skeleton on a park bench with the caption "Waiting for the crazy guy to quit ranting about random shit so I can go home!"

204 put up a rasberry blowing emoji and shoved 930 to show his disapproval of the meme.

772 kept an eye on the Electronic Counter-Counter Measure readouts, as well as watching the Drone Warfare Counter Drone drones. The drones were all on stealth and the ECCM was on passive, but nobody had done a sweep beyond the vacuum suckers in orbit doing fast orbital scans.

Ret.lek kept talking and eating.

772 nudged 336 when two of the stealth counter-drone drones spotted a foreign drone and moved in, using a laser to query the new drone. 336 watched carefully as 772 brought up the readouts. The laser demanded ID from the drone and the foreign drone ID'd itself as friendly with the correct headers.

All done by point to point low strength limited visibility communications laser.

772 went back to his lunch, chewing on the marble sized compressed ball of turkey meat and gravy taste, letting 336 watch the board.

There was a ping from the commo system and Ret.lek stuck the spoon in the foil bag and tapped the button to accept the call.

"Sigma-Five, go ahead," he said.

The XO's face appeared. The Terran looked the same, deep lines in his face, close cropped gray hair, piercing eyes, a bent smokestick in his mouth.

"Whatcha doin', Wrecker?" the XO asked.

"Running a coolant recycle, boss," Ret.lek said. He thought it was a little strange that the XO liked to be called "boss" instead of Lieutenant when everyone was in the bush, but Ret.lek had learned a few years back that in the bush and in The World were two different things.

"How long till your flush?" the XO asked.

Ret.lek checked the status board. "About ten to fifteen minutes. Had some heat crystallization around the battlescreen emitter heat sinks."

The XO nodded. "All right. I'm on my way to a rally point. Fire mission from Gutter-Stomp and NAVINT," the XO shifted and Ret.lek could tell by the way the Terran's shoulders shifted that he was typing. "Sending you the rally point. Meet me there in about 20 minutes and I'll walk you through it."

"Just us, boss?" Ret.lek asked.

The XO nodded again. "We're a little detached from the company and closest," the XO frowned. "Make sure your zero-point emergency reactors are cold and dark, we're going to need them."

"Huh," Ret.lek said. Before he could say anything else the XO lit his smokestick and cut the call. Ret.lek took another bite of the stew and shrugged. "Weird."

-----

The coms net was alive with chatter. Unit orders, updates from MILINT and NAVINT, social media feeds just barreling through, and everything else the modern communication system handled.

Ret.lek had to admit it was strange. He'd fought the Slorpies on a dozen planets, and every time everything but the Magic Band had turned to hash. Now the spooky, strange, and paired quark particle systems were live and yammering.

He'd actually had to engage the filters to make sure he only got stuff that he wanted or that was directed at him, making sure he cut out the social media feeds after someone creatively spammed the "SURPRISE LEMUR PENIS!" meme to the entirety of XXXIV Corps.

His passives went off and Ret.lek turned his mek at the waist to look around.

The XO's big 100 ton Giest warmek was approaching, the movements slow and steady, fluid. Ret.lek could remember being jealous of the old salts being able to move like that, but now it came natural to him and he'd see a couple of jealous looks from the boots.

The big mek moved up and came to a stop. After a minute the cockpit canopy popped open and Ret.lek could see the Terran sitting inside, a half-finished smokestick in his mouth. Ret.lek popped his canopy and waved.

"Hey, boss," Ret.lek called out.

"Wrecker," the XO said. He looked around. "Give it a minute, we got two guys joining us. One out of 19th Warmek Division, the other out of 68th Warmek Division."

Ret.lek frowned. "I don't remember those being part of Dirty-Thirty-Four," he said.

"They ain't," the XO said. He exhaled smoke and looked around. "One's out of XIXth Corps, Death Diners, the other's out of XLVII Corps, the Levellers," he put a fizzybrew between his legs, cracked it open and took a drink. "Good, solid men. Worked with them a lot over the centuries."

930 threw up a meme of some Terrans with long gray beards they had tied around their waists, bare chested, holding swords, looking at an old man with a shorter gray beard going "Anyone work with this kid before?"

Ret.lek just nodded.

"I'll tell you what's up when they get here," the XO said.

It took a few minutes before one of the weird, bobbing as it moved 30 ton Cobras came moving up, the weird legs and hips making it move all herky-jerky. A few minutes after that one of the 70 ton Arrow Rain's came up. They moved to the left and right, so that the group of four warmeks all faced each other.

The cockpits popped open and Ret.lek barely managed to keep from staring in shock. The other two mekjawks were Terrans. One had olive skin, the others in between the XO and the other newcomer.

"Chief Warrant Officer Three Etsitty, call sign Sledgehammer," said the one with the slightly copper colored skin. He had dark eyes, buzzcut black hair, and Ret.lek noted the high cheekbones and axe blade of a nose.

"Staff Sergeant Roshan, call sign Sprinter," the one in the Cobra said.

"That's PFC Ret.lek, call sign Wrecker," the XO said.

The other two looked over Ret.lek and his mek.

"He reliable?" Sledgehammer asked.

The XO nodded. "Kid's fought Kaiju and worse during Black Cherry Buster. He's steady," he said. He dropped the smokestick end in the recycler next to him. "Good at heavy stealth, knows when to pull back, takes it about as serious as we did at his age."

Sledgehammer went "Whoop whoop whoop" and Sprinter gave a soft laugh, shaking his head and smiling.

"OK, read us in," Sprinter said.

The XO pointed out at the horizon to the west. "Thirty-two miles away the enemy is dug in. They're using the combination fusion/fission dampeners and the battlescreen is heavy enough to tank or deflect any orbital shot the navy boys can hand out. It's a major armored unit, mek, and aerospace deployment base."

Everyone just nodded.

"Three hours ago, NAVINT caught a flicker for a second. Not much, just enough to confirm it," the XO said. He suddenly changed the topic, pointing back east. "Now, we've been fighting Leshawkrek, but there's been some oddities. The Leshies usually stick to lasers and masers, not really using grasers, particle beam projectors, or any of the more esoteric systems."

He pointed south. "The Levellers have been engaged with what we realized was Hrethmalk Matriarchy Dominion troops, mainly Ushtevrektak and WelNwik troops."

The XO chuckled. "They always do."

Ret.lek just filed away the information.

A drone floated back and docked with the 30 ton Cobra.

"OK, got the battlescreen frequencies. Looks like they're using their tower with energy pullers to create the dome. I can spoof us a hole big enough for us to get through," Sprinter said. "Combined with the optical camo and the fact we'll be running only zero-point, they shouldn't see us."

"This'll work," The XO said. He cursed. "Hang on, NAVINT keeps pinging me for an update."

903 threw up an image of an angry looking, muscular Terran yelling "WE'LL GET THERE WHEN WE GET THERE!"

It was silent for a bit.

"OK, everyone loaded?" the XO asked.

Ret.lek checked his boards. He was at 1.5% heat, 2% slush.

"Alright, kill your fusion, bring up your zero-point," the XO said.

"Roger that, Warboss," Sprinter said.

Ret.lek followed the direction. Heavy energy weapons offline. Laser AMS and point defense offline. Sensor systems powered down.

"We'll do it with the old Mark One eyeball," the XO said. "Use optical and IR for your warheads. One thing all four species have in common is they see in the IR range, so they use IR emitters for their transponder ID's."

"Point and shoot, baby," Sledgehammer said.

"Let's move out," the XO said. "I'll take point. Wrecker, you're on Sprinter's left. Sledge, you're on his right. Slow and steady, lets not break his optical camo field."

When Ret.lek got in close the worlds shimmered a bit. Normally, his systems would compensate, but the majority were offline.

The mechs moved forward, taking nearly three hours to get close.

When the site came into view, it was only a hemisphere of rippling energy. Even as Ret.lek got closer, her couldn't see any details inside.

They stopped only a few meters from the battlescreen.

"All right. Matching harmonics. Matching frequency. Countering... three," Sprinter said.

Ret.lek tensed, leaning forward slightly.

"Two..."

Ret.lek balled his fists and his mek copied him.

"One..."

Ret.lek inhaled and held it.

A forty-meter high semi-circle of the battlescreen vanished.

Ret.lek could see dozens, hundreds of armored vehicles in lines, with more moving toward the formations. Rank upon rank of strange beings all drawn up. He saw a gate wink into existence, a high speed maglev train shoot through in the five seconds it was open, the gate closing like double-doors being pulled together. The train had two dozen cars, all with warmeks strapped to them. He saw another train come in with what looked like some kind of aerospace fighter on the dozen flatbed cars.

"GO GO GO!" The XO said.

Ret.lek ran forward, his passive targeting system beeping as it struggled to keep up with the amount of targets, but he ignored it, leveling the autocannon at what looked like huge fuel tanks.

The burst of API-FOOF core slammed into the tanks and the explosion rocked his mek as he crossed in.

Missiles fired by the defense corkscrewed into the ground or veered off to slam against the inside of the suddenly intact battlescreen dome and Ret.lek knew Sprinter's ECM and ECCM was running and up to task.

Ret.lek felt a little naked without his AMS and point-defense systems online.

Sledgehammer's missile storm roared out, four 25-pack long range hypersonic missile launchers roaring as the graviton launch systems threw out the whole loadout. The hatches snapped closed and Ret.lek heard Sledgehammer call out "RELOADING" over the com.

The whole quad-volley was aimed directly at the battlescreen broadcasting tower.

Ret.lek was busy moving forward, using his rotary autocannon as fast as he could reload it. He was down to pulse lasers, the neon red laser beams snapping out to strike at sat-dishes, fuel tanks that looked good within range.

The enemy was moving the mag-lev trains off the main tracks. Ret.lek counted thirty set of mag-lev tracks and quickly highlighted all of them and locked in the images for his missiles optical guidance systems.

"Get ready, Wrecker," the XO said.

Ret.lek just nodded, keeping his eyes on where the flashgates would open up. He'd see a heat distortion for less than a second, that would be his only warning to fire. If he waited till the flashgate opened, even his hypersonic missiles might not get through before the gate closed again. That would mean the under-strength lance would take multiple-megaton atomics to the face.

"NOW!" the XO called out before Ret.lek could even see a ripple.

He stomped the firing pedal and the two fifteen packs howled as they launched the hypersonic missiles at max starting velocity toward the flashgate fields.

All four meks took a knee, the Cobra squatting down and leaning the oval shaped head toward the gate field. Battlescreens snapped on, the dedicated zero-point reactors hissing at the sudden load making their temperatures spike.

Now he could see the ripple as the missiles spread out, the sonic boom rattling his teeth as all fifteen went hypersonic less than fifty meters from his mek. They crossed the four miles at nearly 6 miles a second.

The flashgates opened and his missiles sliced through, hitting the mag-lev trains that were hurtling for the open flashgates.

All thirty flashgates suddenly turned into wide rectangles made of white light.

Explosive force roared through, backwashing for almost a half second before the flashgates collapsed when the mechanisms went down. Buildings shattered, armored vehicles were picked up and thrown. The blast wave roared out, 20 psi for nearly a kilometer, spreading out in a fan-shape from the flashgate.

At the four miles distance, the meks' battlescreens snarled and hissed, absorbing the radiation. The thermal pulse got through and Ret.lek felt sweat suddenly bead up on his skin even as his cooling vest felt a little snugger as the mek pumped the coolant faster to wick away the heat. The blast wave hit, the meks shuddering.

Then it was past.

"ON YOUR FEET!" the XO roared out.

Ret.lek pushed up from his stance of being down on one knee with one fist pressed against the ground.

"GO FULL CAP!" the XO called out.

Ret.lek hit the igniter and his fusion power plant surged to life. His battlescreen thickened up, his sensors went live, and his full firepower came back.

"IT'S STOMPIN' TIME! WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP!" Sprinter called out, jumping on one of the tanks and crushing it beneath his armored foot. He jumped from that one to the next, the reversed knee bird-like legs of his mek letting him hop from tank to tank.

Sledgehammer's mech was vomiting out missile volley after missile volley, still back by where the enemy battlescreen had been and was now gone.

Ret.lek waded in, firing his weapons, but staggering them to keep his heat down. His slush was already rising, but still below 20%, and his heat was only at 12%.

Best job I ever had, he thought.