Metal Warrior: Hard as Steel (Mech Fighter Book 4) Page 2

  “Yeah, tell that to my legs now, Doc,” Dane whispered to her memory, as every movement felt like someone was driving steel needles up through his lower body.

  But whatever the cause was, the truth was that Dane was living on borrowed time. His mind veered away from the idea of what would happen if he ever returned to Earth. Would the virus flare through him in a matter of days? The man couldn’t figure out what was worse—the virus, or the idea that he might never be able to set foot on his home planet again.

  A wave of frustrated anger flashed through him once more. It was a familiar feeling, and one that Dane was used to forcing back down.

  “Williams.”

  While the marine’s thoughts had been elsewhere, the lift had found its destination. Dane was now looking through the open door into a low-ceilinged but wide room which was dotted with a series of doors on its right, as well as console bays and chairs. A large bay window occupied the far end, looking out onto a view of metal towers and passing drones. Dane stepped out to see that the securities lounge was already occupied by four figures, three of whom he knew.

  “Bruce, Hopskirk, Johnston,” Dane greeted his fellow corporals. Copelli, Fanborough, and Ullanov, the only other senior marines who had survived the Jupiter mission, weren’t there with them as they had their own fire teams and squads that they were training back on Earth.

  Bruce Cheng, the largest of them and a mountain of a man even before he was put inside his Orbital AMP suit, regarded Dane warily. Their friendship, once indomitable, had cooled since Jupiter. Dane nodded warily at Bruce, with Cheng believing that Dane was becoming a liability to the Marine Corps with his reckless, self-threatening attitude.

  “Williams! I hear you’re giving the newbs a hard time!” Hopskirk greeted him with a grin.

  “What do you mean by that?” Dane felt another flare of annoyance, in rhythm with the pain in his legs.

  “Hey, I only meant...” Hopskirk began, before Bruce cut in.

  “I’m sure Station Officer Kendrick doesn’t want to hear all of that,” Bruce cut in just as smoothly, nodding towards the fourth person in the room, a woman in the suit fatigues of the Forge station with gray-brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and a scar along her chin. Kendrick had sharp gray eyes that moved between Dane and the others while a small frown pursed her lips.

  “Are we quite finished, gentlemen?” Kendrick said as Dane moved into the room. “I received notification from your Master Sergeant Lashmeier just a few hours ago that we had a priority one situation here that would require your discrete attention.”

  Dane and the others stood a little straighter. Williams wondered why Lashmeier hadn’t sent a message through to them personally, but shook his head at it. Even at his level over-seeing and training other marines, he still didn’t understand why the higher-ups made the decisions they did.

  “You have our assurances,” Bruce said solemnly, for Johnston, Hopskirk, and Dane to follow suit as well.

  “Okay,” Kendrick nodded once, before raising a data pad in her hand and tapping a few commands. Dane felt the slight change in air pressure as she must have activated some sort of interference transmitter. The corporal had only ever seen a privacy field used once before, and that had been by the government spook, Jessica.

  “This is a recording of the message that I received,” Kendrick said, tapping on her data pad for a holo to jump into the air between them. It was Master Sergeant Lashmeier, glitching and hazing and vaguely blue-tinged, but still glaring at them all with his silver crewcut and bulldog-like glare.

  “For the attention of Officer Kendrick of the Forge Asteroid Mining Operation,” the man’s image barked with complete assurance.

  “As this is a priority one message, only you, Officer, have the appropriate clearance among the civilians there to unlock this message. You will doubtless have received verification of who I am, acting service-commander for the Mechanized Infantry Division.

  “We have received intelligence that a known person of interest has recently embarked for the Forge. Given his involvement in the plots to assassinate First Admiral Yankis and possibly succeeding in the assassination of First Admiral Keel, we believe that he is a highly dangerous threat to the Forge and all those who work and live there.”

  The holo of the Master Sergeant expanded to include stills of a human male in a variety of places. The man appeared to be in his forties with round dark glasses and brown hair. He had a stubbly, sharp chin and a slightly youthful, almost boyish face. One still showed him dressed in black and ochre combat fatigues, holding up a rifle...

  “The Syrian and Lebanon Uprising,” Lashmeier’s voice intoned.

  Another image of what looked to be the same man walking down a busy street, only this time wearing a black T-shirt and jacket and carrying a briefcase.

  “The Budapest Bombing,” Lashmeier said.

  And then the last shot made Dane blink. It was a still from a gas station. A regular, all-American gas station where he and a number of other men were hopping from the side of a dark van. All of them had that same athletic build of sportsmen, dancers—or ex-military. There was something about the image that Dane recognized, but he couldn’t say what or why before Lashmeier explained it.

  “And this was taken the morning of the attack that killed General Keel. That van is one of the vans that was used in the attack, and some of those men were those who attacked the parade and were neutralized on the scene...”

  Ah. Dane remembered the van that had opened its door to reveal a Browning Automatic, which had proceeded to pump bullets into the crowds, the Mechanized Infantry, anyone, in fact. He even remembered running his Field Blade through the wheel of the thing as he had stopped it...

  “This man is called Jonas Olafson, more commonly known as the Hyena. A mercenary and assassin-for-hire who has been an organizer and actor in many of the world’s recent conflicts. Usually working for the highest bidder.” The contempt in Master Sergeant’s voice was palpable.

  “He has even worked for the Federalized United States and Allies on occasion, but his use of heavy-handed interrogation techniques and his disregard for civilian casualties led to his first arrest warrant being issued...” Lashmeier went on.

  “This man was deeply involved in the attack that took First Admiral Keel’s life. We can only assume that he is also involved in the efforts by the human collaborators to slow, halt, and pause our military defenses against the Exin...”

  “Those who attacked Yankis’s compound,” Dane murmured to Hopskirk, the only other marine who had been there with him when he had been sent to retrieve the replacement First Admiral Yankis. They had been attacked both by Exin creatures as well as highly-trained human mercs and had barely gotten out of there alive.

  And in fact, Dane thought to himself, it felt an awful lot like the humans and the Exin creatures had collaborated their attacks together...

  “We had a security flag arrive here at Solaris Station, stating that a routine camera-to-biometric-match recognized Jonas Olafson about seventeen hours ago,” the holo of Lashmeier continued. “And he was getting on the next crew complement to the Forge, which happens to be precisely where the space-based group of the Orbital Marines are. And which happens to be the place which provides the best materials and platform for the next development of our defense program...”

  Oh frack, Dane thought. “Seventeen hours ago...” he said out loud. “And how long does the latest generation of FTL cruisers take? Do the crew cruisers use the most advanced engines?”

  “No, Corporal, they don’t,” Security Officer Kendrick said. “The crew cruisers do move fast, though. A nine-hour flight to get here. Which means that your man has been in my station for about eight hours already, and who knows what damage he has already caused...”

  “How are we going to find him!?” Johnston blurted.

  Officer Kendrick flicked off the holo of Lashmeier irritably. “Well, I was hoping that the three of you would have some ideas. He is clearly a military threat, but I am loath to call in all of your trainee marines from your platform, corporals, and turn my Forge into a military detention zone...” Dane saw the woman take a long breath. “Which is why I am here, talking to you as the senior officers. You will have at your disposal my Forge Security resources, and you will have the ability to go into any room, anywhere. I advise that you find this man quickly.”

  “The crew cruiser,” Dane said first. “Where did it dock? There must have been a procedure, right? Sanitization? Disinfection? Registering?”

  “You’re right,” Officer Kendrick said, turning to one of the low tables behind her and producing a sheath of papers.

  “Jonas went through all that calling himself Karl Klausen.” She opened the documents, revealing a picture of the Hyena and an employment record as a very successful engineer. “He was billeted with room 201. I was hoping that you, with all of your…” she made a gesture to their vast suits, “…armaments, would be the first to bring him in for questioning.”

  Dane looked at the other corporals and nodded.

  “Let’s go.”

  3

  III. Room 201

  “I’m just not exactly sure that, y’know, us dressed like this,” the bulk of Hopskirk’s suit made a shrugging motion—plates sliding over each other on his Orbital AMP suit with a smooth sound like the sharpening of blades as he gestured to the bulk of his own metal carapace, “is very incognito, if you get my drift.” Dane could hear Hopskirk’s sarcasm dripping over the suit-to-suit comms.

  The four Mechs jogged down the avenues and corridors inside the subterranean levels of the Forge, surrounded by a metal world of reinforced girders and metal plates. Occasionally, the view opened out onto walls of bare black metal ore, oddly striated and pocked from the
intense heats and pressures that the inside of these asteroids had experienced in their antediluvian lifespan. They passed by corridors and doors, and the jump-suited workers who lived here at the Forge who saw the AMPs headed their way blanched and quickly turned back the way they had been coming...

  “Maybe you’re right...” Dane said. Maybe they should have climbed out of their suits in order to round up Klausen, or Olafson, or whatever this frackburger liked to call himself... But Dane knew that they needed to do this quickly. What if Olafson is rigging a bomb right now? What if he has a room full of explosives—enough to destroy the entire factory in there!? And the suits were the only thing, perhaps on this entire station, that could deal with that...

  “On the right,” Bruce said, reaching the steel bulkhead door, framed like an octagonal at the top, with large machine-plate writing 201 on the front. Bruce moved to the far side, turned, and Dane reached the near, with Hopskirk and Johnston lined up behind him.

  “Scans...” Dane whispered, searching the HUD on the inside of the faceplate that he, along with the others, had hastily put back on for the operation. It flashed with blue, green, and orange sweeps.

  “I’m picking up radionic, probably background...” Bruce confirmed what Dane was seeing.

  “No heat,” Dane said. But there was a very faint and dull green glow coming from somewhere behind the door. Movement. Life. “But I got somebody...”

  They had killed their suit speakers in order to make as little noise as possible, using just their suit-to-suit communicators instead. They weren’t about to knock, either. Dane pulled up the access codes to the factory that Officer Kendrick had given them and held up a hand towards the keypad on the door, pausing to look towards Bruce and nodding as he typed in the all-areas security access codes...

  Hiss! The steel door hissed open, just as Bruce stepped forward, raising his rifle—

  “FREEZE! Mechanized Infantry!” Corporal Cheng was in the process of saying, just as a creature with skin like steel and jade slammed into him, knocking him back to the opposite wall.

  “Bruce!” Dane gasped, already lunging forward.

  The thing that had attacked Cheng was an Exin-beast, one of the many dangerous forms that they could apparently grow and shape into. This one was six-legged—it was using its front two to pin Bruce to the wall—with hide like scaled leather shot through with gray and green. Its long snout was vaguely dog-like, but with a maw that was impossibly large and deep.

  Which it was currently using to clamp around the faceplate of Cheng, as its claws forced his arms down and the rifle away—

  THAP! Dane fired, literally stabbing at the thing’s side with the barrel of his rifle as he pulled the trigger and held it down, producing a solid orange beam that hissed and burned into the Exin-wolf’s shoulder—one of its many shoulders.

  “Sckrargh!” With a pained roar like the grating of rocks, the creature spun, dashing Dane’s rifle out of his gauntlets with a sweep that tore sparks from his suit’s metal. With a grunt, Dane fell backwards, instinctively shielding his face from the hack and slash of the thing’s claws.

  >Suit Impact! Breast-plate 85%...

  Dane felt the first swipe of the thing’s claws catch at him, almost lifting him off his feet, as he was shoved backward into Hopskirk behind him. But there was nowhere for Dane to go to get out of the way of the thing’s claws. His suit was too big to duck to one side or another, and all he could do was to try to use his body to confine and distract the creature from attacking Bruce.

  >Suit Impact! Left & right Forearms 70%...

  The thing was slashing at Dane furiously, throwing sparks with its hardened claws. The metal on his wrists twisted, and the plates started to buckle and tear under the onslaught.

  “No, you don’t!” Dane heard Bruce roar, as the large man seized the back of the Exin-wolf and heaved. In a former life, Bruce Cheng had been a sumo wrestler, and it appeared that he still knew some of the old moves as he lifted the creature up—a creature that was probably taller than he was if it was stretched out nose to barbed tail, and perhaps just as heavy—and hauled it back from attacking Dane.

  Instead of letting himself rest from the onslaught, Dane kicked forward, one hand sliding the Field Blade from where it was magnet-locked to his thigh and stabbing forward into the creature’s exposed chest.

  “SKRARGH!” The blade hit home with a heavy thud as the creature convulsed in agony. Dane had plunged his hardened steel blade into the creature’s ribcage—one of its multiple ribcages, Dane saw—but even that didn’t slow it down. The Exin-wolf jackknifed, picking up its hind legs to kick out at Dane, throwing him back against Hopskirk and Johnston...

  “Ach!”

  >Suit Impact! Breast-plate 60%...

  Dane heard the crunch of plate on his front as he went down in a flail of limbs and curses. When he managed to scramble back to his feet, he saw that Bruce, likewise, was staggering against the wall as the creature had escaped his grasp. It was now fleeing down the passageway past room 201, and still with Dane’s Field Blade sticking out of its chest. He saw it slide to the end of the corridor, turning in a new direction, and half scramble down the new corridor.

  “No!” Dane threw himself to his feet and went after the thing. They couldn’t let it run free in the Forge station. It would cause havoc. If it could take down a marine in some Assisted Mechanized Plate, then Dane didn’t dare to think what it would do to factory workers in just padded leather jump-suits...

  Dane’s boots clattered to the end of the corridor and turned, just in time to start hearing the screams and the sound of something breaking. Up ahead of him, the creature was still lunging and scrambling—awkwardly with the Field Blade still embedded in its chest—but it had managed to throw aside a cart that one of the Forge staff had been pushing down the corridor. In fact, the creature had managed to tear the metal-wheeled cart almost in two, and there was a spray of deep crimson, human blood from where the worker was huddled.

  “Medic!” Dane shouted, then remembered that his suit was on silent. Frack! “Audio on, broadcast to all channels, copy in Officer Kendrick!” Dane shouted, as a green eye icon woke up in the top of his HUD, and he knew that his suit was now broadcasting what he was seeing as he raced after the creature.

  “Medic on this location,” Dane called out, as his scanners zeroed in on the woman that he ran past, reading her situation with the neon code “Critical” before his boots had propelled him past her.

  “Get back! Out of the way!” Dane was shouting as doors started to open and close on either side of the corridor. Heads were poked out before suddenly being pulled back in alarm as the creature swiped or snarled at them. The staffers of the Forge were screaming, and the lights on the walls turned from the muted-bright radiance of white to the warning flash of orange...

  Dane only had two weapons left on his suit. His Field Halligan, and his pistol. As he was too far away from the beast to throw the halligan, instead he snapped the heavy pulse pistol from his hip and tried to get a bead on the creature.

  >Target Lock Acquired!...

  >Target Lost!...

  The thing ahead was moving too fast and erratically for Dane to keep up with it as he tried to aim as well as run after it. He lost his suit’s auto-lock every few moments as the thing crashed from one side of the wall to the other, spilling a dark, green-black ichor behind it as it went.

  It was nearly at the end of the corridor, and there was a double bulkhead door there.

  “Shut that door! Shut that door!” Dane was shouting, but a Forge staffer had appeared on the inside, half in laughter as they turned to cross the threshold.