The Mongrel: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Hunter's Moon Book 1) Page 6

  A holographic image of the woman sprang up in his vision. She was roughly his age with wisps of gray starting at her hairline and streaking down her black mane. She wore the casual wear of the clergy alongside a smile dripping with condescension.

  When mankind first arrived on the galactic stage, many alien species saw them as a mark to be exploited, and then as a threat to galactic stability. It wasn't long before humanity migrated beyond the Outer Boundary of the Core Worlds Alliance to escape the scorn.

  Life in the Frontier was always tough. Pirates, raiders, and gangs made things even worse. Corporations defended their holdings with extreme measures, often to the detriment of settlers and pilgrims just looking for a fresh start. It was here that the Marshals Templar were born. Their first training in the Way came from the Vosi Justiciaré, a group of warrior judges similar to what the Templars would become.

  As the faith grew in popularity among human settlers, the new temples felt increasing pressure to protect their members, whether at home or on pilgrimage. Templars were often the only ones to mete out justice. They became the go-to source for settling disputes.

  Once the Crucible Faith had found a home on Elysium, their resources grew, along with the desire to be seen as a major power in the sector. While Elysium's army, the Force Majeure, was technically under the control of the government, it was sometimes co-opted to support the Marshals Templar and their lancer regiments. This was a point of contention among the Faith Revere, the leaders of the Crucible religion in the Frontier. The Reverends claimed that the Templars were part of the faith and under their control. The Templars had demonstrated that they owed allegiance to the safety of the people and the tenets of the Faith. Everyone else be damned.

  Na'Eema's smile twitched slightly at the commander calling her “Sister.” A Revered Sister was part of the Force Revere order in the San Verone Temple, the seat of the Faith on Elysium. Simply calling one Sister or Brother either showed familiarity or, in the case of the marshals, contempt. “Force Commander Hylaeus, we have received word from members on Tythian that there is a bit of a problem in the Kesthi portion of the settlement. Is it true that one of the Templars is responsible for a mass killing there?”

  “We did have an incident involving a tribal land dispute. A marshal and her lancers were killed, but her apprentice survived. The apprentice tracked down those responsible, killing them and a good number of the tribe.” Hylaeus answered.

  “We're hearing that these were not the combat-related deaths normally associated with a marshal's purview.”

  The commander added his own wry smile. “We don't know as of yet. The apprentice has been difficult to lock down.”

  “Is that so? I had heard that the mongrel was in custody,” Na'Eema said.

  The commander didn't take the bait. The marshals who had worked with Lasher, along with many in the Regiments, had come to respect the deputy for his honor and ferocity. That he was only half human made no difference to those he served with. “He was. It must be his Vosi parentage that makes him so dangerous. We believed he let himself be captured for some reason we haven't quite figured out, yet. In any case, Marshal Brand and his Devil Hunters have been brought in from Kalizhad. We'll have him in hand shortly.”

  Na'Eema strained to hide her contempt. She was a purist. She believed that the Crucible Faith and their protectors should be human. While the Vosi had trained humans in their High Art, the forces of the Crucible, both San Verone and Athalon, were mostly human. Na'Eema had often been overheard talking about segregating the other races should she ever be elected to Revered Elder.

  “Perhaps you require a Gauntlet of Monks from the Order to assist you, seeing as the boy is so dangerous.” The smile on Na'Eema's face held a hint of the predator.

  “Even though I would relish help from the Order,” Hylaeus offered, “We currently have our search and investigation under way. Introducing new elements now might complicate things, possibly even slow down the process.”

  Na'Eema nodded. She loved playing the game with the Templars. Loved how each, members of the same faith, had rivaled the other from their earliest dealings. While the Templars believed that the Crucible Faith was for all, the Faith Revere believed that it needed to be fed to the people. They required leadership and they were the right people for the job.

  “I look forward to speaking to you again after this affair has been sorted. Good hunting, Commander. May the stars light your way.”

  “And yours also, Sister. Thank you.” The commander flipped the indicator on his cell-com and then scrolled back into the Battle-net. Marshal Brand's icon came into view. “Marshal Brand. Stay alert out there. I believe we may have a Gauntlet Team out of San Verone here to stir things up.”

  The marshal responded, “Do you think they're looking to bring him in by themselves? Is this an attempt to upstage us?”

  The commander smiled. “You can be sure there is an agenda here. Be careful.”

  Seven

  The sky above was a brilliant greenish-blue as the sun continued its crawl into the sky. It was prior to High Sun, where the temperatures became nearly oven-like. Most of the Tyth and many of the other races chose to stay inside during this time of day so they knew they had a few hours before they had to figure out anything concrete.

  “My life has been considerably more interesting since I met you. Let's take now for instance. I think my back is broken. I've never had a broken back. This is a new experience for me,” Kel said with none of the anguish of someone who had just broken their back.

  Lasher and Durado lay in the dirt, hidden in a shallow wadi. The crease in the land was just deep enough for them to lie hidden from the troops that were guarding the main entrance to the fort. The sand beneath them was cooler than the dirt they crawled in to get there. That, if nothing else, felt good to Durado, who had been exerting himself beyond what he was normally capable.

  “Have you ever heard of a crippled gangster?” Kel asked.

  Lasher rolled his eyes. “You are not crippled and your back is not broken. I cushioned our roll from the skiff. You are probably not used to all of this activity.”

  Kel huffed at his partner's accusation. “Normally, I try to stay in shape. Punch at least one guy in the face per day. You know. Keep it real. Punching someone who owes you money? Now that's a workout I can get behind. And if he owes me a lot of money? More punching. Great way to stay in shape.”

  “You did fight well against the lancer you tackled. So looks like all that working out is paying off.”

  “Aw. You do like me.” Kel said.

  Lasher gestured to the ship just beyond the berm. “Of course I do. I like you so much that I am going to trust you to take those immense workout muscles and crawl through this cut to that ship on the landing pad. Then all you have to do is wait for me to come back and fly us out of here.”

  Kel frowned at the proposition.. “Did you not see the lancers positioned at the main entrance? They have thirty-seven different vision modes in that helmet. They're going to see us.”

  “Thirty-seven?”

  Kel nodded like his neck had springs.“Yeah. They even have a ghost vision.”

  “Interesting. What does ghost vision let them see?”

  “Like a ghost. They can see through walls and stuff.”

  “Interesting,” Lasher repeated. “I'm sure the heat reflecting off the ground will be more than enough to mess up their ghost vision. I wouldn't worry about the lancers. I would worry more about those RIM-VIs recovering from the ion hits they took.”

  “They can do that?”

  Corporal Shane looked through his shoulder-mounted view-finder. The small monocular sight was mounted on a gyroscopic arm that could move it in several directions and around his head. It increased his helmet's ability to see at distance as well as provide ranged targeting data. The small device could also disengage from the mount to become a drone, moving under his control. “Nothing out there, boss.”

  Sergeant Bolaji moved to st
and with the junior NCO. “I could have sworn that skiff dropped something before it sped off. Hard to tell. It almost flew into the dirt when it passed over. Repulsors were kicking up quite a bit of sand.”

  “View-finder pointed to a wadi in the distance. Maybe whoever took the skiff dropped a body. They could be hurt. Or worse. Could be worth checking out.” Shane offered.

  Sergeant Bolaji put his arm over the CR-51 clipped to the front of his armor. “Too dangerous for anyone from the squad to go out there right now. As soon as the RIMs get their gears back together, task one of them to go and sweep that cut.”

  Shane gave his sergeant a thumb's up. “Roger that, Sergeant.”

  Bolaji looked into the distance. It had been several minutes since the skiff disappeared. It had come close to the fort, so he had ordered his squad to hug the ground. Jumping up after the ship passed at such an extreme rate of speed proved ineffective to getting any details. They weren't sure who was on board or if they'd used the flyover as a distraction to ditch something.

  The sun was coming over the hills in the distance. If they weren't hunting, this would have been a pleasant morning for the squad. Bolaji desperately wanted to remove his helmet to soak in the sun and get the scent of the dusty grass into his nostrils. The wind-tossed grass would have been soothing, if not for the fact that it made hearing minute sounds, which were crucial on guard duty, difficult.

  “Sergeant.”

  Bolaji turned to see the corporal behind him.

  “VIs are back up. Scrub scans say they are running at tip-top and ready for command. Already checked with the TOC and they said I am good to task one for the wadi. Send it?”

  Bolaji nodded. He would rather have his men sweep the cut themselves. He didn't trust robots. The advantage they had over his men was they were more difficult to control via the Way. That would help if it encountered the apprentice. One of the bots floated over to the group.

  Bolaji and the corporal were in front of the main entrance. Two privates had set up a CR-750 behind a drop-shield and were scanning the sector. Lancers Yao and Juvari were on top of the fort with a CR-55, which included an integrated grenade launcher, and a CR-12 long blaster. Several of his other privates and lancers were spread out on either side of the fort behind drop-shields. They were dug in. They were ready.

  The bot floated over, its muted repulsors almost drowned out by the sound of the grass in the wind. A series of chirps, almost reminiscent of language, spewed forth from the machine. Its sensor tower raised and angled to regard Sergeant Bolaji. As it waited for an answer to its query, it dropped four crab-like legs and rested on the ground.

  “He says that his designation is Echo-44-Uniform. He is ready for tasking,” Corporal Shane relayed.

  Bolaji smiled. “E-F-F-U in Trade-1. Someone named this bot Eff-U? That's original.” Bolaji's sarcasm could be felt through his expressionless helmet. “Go forth, do great things, 44.”

  Corporal Shane added, “Task: go forward to wadi at 271 degrees, local magnetic. Recon east to landing pad. Simulcast feed to 3-6. How copy.”

  The machine barked an electronic grunt, moving off to the wadi. Holographic displays appeared in Sergeant Bolaji's HUD, showing the various scans the bot was using. Its main weapon, the M-1170 variant, was primed and ready. Its secondary weapon, a sonic disruptor, would be used to incapacitate any hostile it would encounter until the command for lethal force was given.

  Bolaji copied his feeds to Shane. The two could filter through faster if they shared the work. They both watched the bot slowly float on its repulsors into the wadi. There was a quick up and down jerking motion, finally resting at a single height, only its sensor head visible. Its audience knew it had lowered its legs in order to traverse the terrain more slowly, casually moving through the cut like any predator looking for prey.

  The crawl through the crevice had been slow and torturous for Kel Durado. Even though growing up on the streets of Kabran City was tough, he never had to crawl through the dirt like this. The small, grating stones were cutting into his knees. He was also sure he was going to have to take off all of his clothes to force the sand from cracks and crevices that are supposed to be sand free.

  “We've been crawling for ten minutes. You haven't complained once.” Kel said.

  “You were doing such an excellent job of it for the both of us I didn't see the need.”

  Kel looked up from his task of moving forward. “You wound me, sir.”

  Lasher looked back. “I wouldn't. We made a deal to get out of here together. If you annoy me to the point of violence, it will have to wait until we're safely away from the garrison.”

  Kel's mouth dropped open. He knew that all the assembled firepower here was for this apprentice. If they felt the need to field an entire platoon, he could only guess at how dangerous he was.

  Lasher must have detected the fear from the criminal. “Small joke. I don't want to hurt you. We're almost there. Tell me the plan again.”

  Kel looked more hurt than when he thought he was going to be hurt. “Why should I recite it again. It's your plan!”

  “Keep your voice down. I just want to make sure you have it committed to memory.”

  Kel rolled his eyes. “Crawl into the shuttle. Get some goodies. I hide so I'm not detected. You go and do terrible things to the lancers and get your stuff. If you don't come back in twenty standard minutes, I take off with the shuttle.”

  “Good. Now, wait.” Lasher said.

  The apprentice stretched out to the Crucible. He felt the fire of the universe turning within the cauldron of reality. Molten strands of fate reached out and connected all things by their energy. He could feel insects and lizards scurrying in the sand beneath them. He saw the dry stream they lay in and the bots prowling outside the fort. There was the singular bot slowly scanning the stream bed toward them, moving on its crab-like legs. A few meters from them were the landing pads. There was Commander Hylaeus' assault shuttle, and just beyond, the drop shuttle for the Devil Hunters where the heavily armed Fourth Squad waited. He could see the lancers moving about the fort. Marshal Brand was with them.

  There, moving about the cell by himself, was Force Commander Hylaeus. He was in the midst of shutting down a hologram. A quick flip of a cell-com and he was now talking to Brand.

  “Marshal Brand. Stay alert out there. I believe we may have a Gauntlet Team out of San Verone here to stir things up.”

  The marshal responded, “Do you think they are looking to bring him in by themselves? Is this an attempt to upstage us?”

  The commander smiled. “You can be sure there is an agenda here. Be careful.”

  In his vision, the commander turned. “You have become strong in the Way, young man. I almost didn't detect you. How much did you hear?”

  Lasher tried to pull his vision away from the commander.

  “Not just yet, Deputy Marshal Orin Lashra. I can sense your pain. Your rage. Are you close by? What are you trying to see, ?”

  Lasher roared inside of his mind. His sight flashed back over all the terrain he had just envisioned crossing, until he was staring at Kel again. “We need to move now,” he hissed.

  Kel feigned his best lancer imitation. “Ready when you are, sir.”

  Lasher's hair hid most of his face from view. One eye was visible and it told Kel everything he needed to know about the “sir” comment he had just made. Kel put up his hands in surrender rather than face a potentially dangerous side of his new companion.

  Lasher closed his eyes once more and forced his focus outward. There was a soft sound like waves rushing to break on shore. Somewhere off in the distance there came a bang. Rocks and debris slid into the opposite wadi. It was less thunderous than an actual rock slide, more like a temper tantrum of pebbles as they tumbled down the hill into the cut, puffing up a small dust cloud into the air.

  This was enough to draw the attention of everything at the front of the fort. Two of the three VIs on perimeter patrol tightened into formation and w
ent SDs up. A slight buzz hummed from the activated Sonic Disruptors.

  44 was in the cut when it shot into the air, folded its legs into flight mode, and sped off to the opposite side from its counterparts. It simulcast ultra-burst video streams to Bolaji and Shane. The wedged robots had created a fatal cordon for anything in the depressed sands.

  No one was the wiser as two men disguised as shadows drifted into the cargo bay of the commander's assault shuttle.

  The interior of the ship was the epitome of shine and polish. Every surface had a glare, gleam, or clean smell. There was a trace of dust on the floor, just ahead of the ramp, from the wind blowing sand. The Force Commander would probably be beside himself that the offensive grit had found its way onto the ship.

  Lasher and Kel went deep into the cargo hold, moving as quietly as two large men could. They stepped lightly and slowly. On the way in, Kel had noticed a trip sensor just past the ramp. He had guided Lasher where to step to avoid it. Where there was one trap, there were bound to be more. They tried their best to eyeball every meter for trips, snares, or sensors.

  They had passed the mooring anchors where the four IVs had been fastened to the deck. The clamps lay open, ready to receive their charges at a moment's notice. Just past them was a small four-man rover. It had an open top with a roll cage and four immense tires. A gyroscopic mount on the passenger side indicated it was set for a lancer team. The mount still had plenty of grease in its fittings, a sign that no one had ever mounted a machine blaster onto it. Although there were signs of use, the vehicle had seen little in the way of battle damage.

  “This looks like it would come in handy,” Kel whispered.

  Lasher moved over to some crates. Feeling the tension in the ratchet strap securing them to the deck, he moved over to a screen on the wall. He scrolled through a list of contents, hoping to find something they could use to their advantage. His attention shifted between the screen and Kel, who was folding a tarp on the deck.