NINE

Note: This chapter contains graphic violence. Reader's discretion is advised.

City of Lomme,
Victoria, New Avalon Combat Region,
Crucis March, Federated Suns,
June 13, 3074

I felt 'dispossessed'.

My Hawk Eagle's 12.7-mm ammunitions did not give me security the way Red Baron provided, let alone the feeling of immortality. It had been a while since I did a grunt job; in fact, it might be at Solaris that I last fought without armor. The luxury of inches of ferro-fibrous layers had made me forget how battles were fought before the age of battlemechs.

Unfortunately for us (mechwarriors and pilots alike) some missions still required old-school method to be completed. Battlemechs were useless in this situation. We were not as trained as infantries – or better yet, Elementals – to carry this fight. We could shoot, and we were damn good at it. But unlike mech battles, one small piece of metal could stop us dead.

Like the bullet in my hand.

My only consolation was the training sequences Shinoyama, Kikuchi, and Yamada enforced to the Cavaliers. They had a very high standard in their Bushido, and I had seen them abusing the Cavalier recruits. I thought they were over their heads. Now I was glad that they did it. The harsh treatment of the ex Kuritans prepared the recruits to handle 'dispossessed' situation like this.

"We'll bring 6 Drillsons," Shinoyama briefed me as I pushed the last bullet into my magazine. "Yamada, Kikuchi and I are Blue Team. We will draw the Blakists into the open. You ride with Red Team. They'll drop you off at the back door. Get all the prisoners to Red Team. You'll ride home with us."

"We heard some dribs and drabs about Blakist's new supersoldiers," David Malthus added. "Manei Domini, The Master's Hand. Rumor has it said that it needs an Elemental to kill a Manei Domini infantry. If you see one, don't even think of taking it on. Let me and my lance handle them."

David was of a Clan phenotype, towering at 6-4 and weighing well over 200 lbs, all of which muscles. It was just inevitable that he dragged a massive Portable Light Gauss rifle, coincidently christened 'David' by the Free World League, harkening back to the ancient folklore about a teen killing an Elemental with a sling. David's freeborn lance mates carried gyrojet rifles, lighter than the PLG but just as deadly.

"We can handle the regular infantries," Evee cocked her Imperator. "We'll leave the 'super' ones for you."

I despised her inclusion into this mission. Not that I underestimated her combat prowess, but this supersoldier thing started making me nervous. However, after losing Kangpae, she wanted to make sure I did not do more reckless stunts. And nobody could stop her from doing what she wanted. Not even me.

"Alright, then, mount up!" Kikuchi's cry started the mission. "Let's hunt some Blake's meat!"

The Drillsons were big hovercrafts, but the lack of friction against the road made them fast and agile, which was why we used them in urban blitzkrieg. They had enough room to take 10 Cavaliers and 4 Shooting Stars in 3 separate vehicles. The Blue Team led the way, swerving on the street against the flow of Winsome Rose battlemechs that poured out of the city. The Red Team followed 50 meters behind.

The city was an absolute urban waste. Rubbles and abandoned vehicles covered the roads, and buildings perched without protective glasses, standing in macabre beauty as muted witnesses of resistance futility against the Word of Blake. What was once a city park now lied in drab, brown mud with castrated trees. Inhabitants were scarce. I reckoned they were either dead or taken to the reeducation camp by the Blakists.

The reeducation camp was only 5 kilos away from the city gate. Less than 500 meters away from the camp, Red Team broke formation and took a different road, while Blue Team boldly charged the camp head on. The Blakists, knowing that the Winsome Rose had betrayed them, poured out of the camp wielding anything from rifles to shoulder-mounted SRMs. And as reality liked to torture me the way my imagination did, six large figures rose from inside the camp. PLG rifles similar to David's were integrated into their lower right arms, while the left sported gigantic claws whose span was longer than my torso.

Battle Armors.

"Heads up! Blake's Elementals!" Shinoyama yelled through the comlink. "Red Team, drop off your load at a safe distance. Sorry, guys, I need my Drillsons."

As Red Team swerved to find a safe drop-off spot, Blue Team charged forward, spitting a blizzard of missiles to the Blake's infantries. Tongues of fire flared into the air as long- and short-ranged missiles maimed the hapless infantries. Half of the foot soldiers were swallowed by fireballs in that single attack. The rest spread out in panic, going for covers, and quickly forgot about their basic training to stand up and fight.

The battle armors, though, walked through fire and barked their PLGs to counter the Drillson's volleys. Three nickel-ferrous slugs rammed Kikuchi's Drillson at the back. Burning splinters tossed into the air, and the Drillson swiveled half a loop around. Kikuchi quickly regained control of his hover tank, but a crack was visible on the right side of his hull.

"Kuso! Ikene! Watch your head, people!" Kikuchi yelled his frustration. "These guys are very accurate!"

Red Team stopped behind a building and tossed us out. I quickly divided the Cavaliers into 2 groups, one following me to David's right flank, the other went with Evee covering David's left. The Shooting Stars dragged their heavy weaponries on the streets, while the Drillsons quickly dispersed into the skirmish, aiding the ex Kuritans trading blows with the battle armors.

Machine guns, lasers and missiles zipped back and forth, but the battle armors dodged most of the attack. Although three times the size of a normal man, the battle armors moved with the grace of an ice skater, a phenomenon unknown to me or any other Cavaliers. It seemed that the metal bulk did not hinder them a bit. They lacked the jump jets of the old Elemental, but with their fluid move, jump jets were not an issue.

"Se'irims," David explained, as if he was reading my mind. "They're Manei Domini's new battle armors. They are designed to be fast and mobile. Added with Vehicular Direct Neural Interface of the Manei Domini, this is the first time since the Clan Invasion that Spheroids techs got Clans beaten."

It sounded like a fair statement. The Se'irims moved as if they did not carry extra weight. One Se'irim caught the hull of a Drillson from Red Team, and effortlessly pulled itself to the top. The Drillson writhed and shuddered to get rid of the battle armor, but it clung fast and at one opportunity it ripped the cap open. With one mighty grab the Se'irim pulled the Drillson driver out of the vehicle. The claw's tips punctured the driver's body, crushing his ribcage. The look on the face of the driver was something I would not forget for long, long years. As the Drillson spun out of control, the Se'irim tossed the crushed body into the air and jumped, seconds before the hover tank rammed into a building.

Shinoyama, Kikuchi, and Yamada changed tactics. They moved in swiveling pattern, shooting their lasers at the farthest battle armor. Their strategy worked. The Se'irims could not figure out which tank would shoot at them, and as they got ready to hit one Drillson, they were peppered by another. It did not take long for the ex Kuritans to blotch the Se'irim's torso armors.

However, the foot soldiers still packed some formidable heat. Bullets and missiles leapt into the sky, falling hard on the Drillsons. Although the bullets did nothing more than chipping the paint, the missiles disrupted the Kuritan's harmony. Their shots turned into amateurish marksmanships, and the Se'irims used this opportunity to slip under their barrages.

"Somebody take out those grenadiers!" Shinoyama hollered in the comlink.

"I'll handle it," I replied before detaching my group from David's. I brought my head under a pile of debris while my boys gathered around me. The Blakists foot soldiers sprawled at 200 meters in front of us, in a large radius, oblivious to our existence. They had not seen us yet.

We came in from their left flank. I tiptoed from rubble to rubble, covering myself in dust. My boys followed me to close the gap between us to 75 meters. I signaled my boys, and at the count of three, I preceded them to spring out from the debris and fired my weapon. When Imperators and Mausers followed my lead, Blakist troops started jolting and stumbling. A couple SRM operators twisted and thrashed under our assault, just as dozens of bullets ravaged their chest, pumping blood and gristle into the air.

The remaining Blakists quickly assessed the new threats. Bullets ricocheted on the debris, forcing us to retreat back under the cover. Sparks blossomed as the bullets grazed the top of the debris, but proved to be too weak to drill into it. Seconds later missiles from shoulder-mounted SRMs whistled out from their tubes, and our cover erupted like a volcano. Pieces of concrete rained down on us, and two of my boys were caught in that explosion. One immediately disintegrated into the dust, the other flew several meters behind before thudded into a pile of concrete.

"Take cover! Go! Go!" I forced them to run while I came to my fallen comrade. He lied on a concrete slab, shaking mostly in shock. There was no visible hemorrhage but the streaming dark blood from his mouth told me he had a crushed liver.

"C-C-Chief..." he muttered, grasping my arm.

"Save your strength," I tried to calm him. "You will live."

By this time, Evee and David had diverted their group to hammer the Blakist from another angle, while they attended my fallen comrade. "How bad?" Evee asked.

"Internal bleeding," I pointed out the obvious. "He has an hour, maybe two."

"Let's get him some place safe," David grabbed his ankle. "I'll get his legs."

As I lifted his arm, he coughed more blood, but we moved him under a shade and left him there. I grabbed his Imperator and let loose a long barrage at the Blakists position. I did not know if I hit anybody. When everybody was behind cover, it was hard to see what happened behind the concrete blocks and dust cloud.

But David's lance mates found more success with their gyrojets. The small rockets drummed the concrete blocks where the Blakists took refuge, forcing them out into the open. The Cavaliers picked them up with ease. Soon, the foot soldiers fell back in disarray.

Free from the infantries, the Blue Team picked up momentum and devised another strategy. But they were one vehicle short. A Se'irim jumped onto a Drillson and ripped the armor apart. As the armor gave up the delicate structure it was protecting, the Se'irim shoved its PLG inside and blasted the gun. The slug must have mangled the driver. The Drillson quickly roved uncontrollably and skidded into an empty building.

Another one got into Yamada's Drillson and started the same procedure. Yamada braked off, pushing the Se'irim off the top, but the battle armor would not let go. It hung on to the front of the hover tank, then tried to shoot through the window. Yamada gunned the engine, keeping the Se'irim off balance, and rammed his Drillson into the side of a building. The sickening crunch reverberated throughout the city, and the Drillson's hull broke apart into several sections. The front hull pinned the Se'irim between the mangled hover tank and the concrete wall. Its right arm was seared off clean, while its clawed left crumpled under the weight of the Drillson.

But even then, the Se'irim still tried to free itself.

Yamada exited his tank, his left arm hanging free as if there was no supporting bone, then limped away from the tank. Seconds later the remaining hull erupted in flames, swallowing the pinned Se'irim in a ball of fire. The blast kicked off dirt and dust into the air, creating a cloud that covered half of the battleground.

"Get into the camp and free the prisoners!" David yelled while preparing his PLG. "I'll assist your armor assets."

I was not feeling good leaving my Drillson teammates, but they seemed to hold themselves together against the battle armors. So I dashed forward and blasted the remaining Blakist infantries at point-blank, followed by Evee and the rest of the Cavaliers not too far behind. The hapless infantries screamed and jolted before hitting the ground, mowed down by accurate shots to their midsections. Some of them had flak vests on, but it took only one good salvo to their heads to drop them.

We were halfway to the camp when a battle armor cut our path. It was smaller than Clan's counterpart, probably topped off at 9 foot tall. But the monster-like face streaked terror more than any Elemental could. Instinctively we raised our guns and let them rip, but the bullets ricocheted and bounced off the Se'irim's thick armor. I could almost imagine the smile of supremacy on the pilot's face, but the only reality I saw was savagery. The Se'irim swung its claw and swiped a Cavalier. The poor man was flung into the air, leaving ruby mist where he stood a second ago.

My Imperator had long run out of juice, so I drew my sidearm and targeted the Se'irim's head, hoping to burst the face plate for a quick kill. But my bullets did not even graze the paint. I slammed a new clip, went berserk, but did not do anything better than making the Se'irim mad. The hunched battle armor started to lock its senses at me and made a sprint.

Suddenly a hot gale hit my face as a PLG slug whizzed and chiseled the Se'irim's left torso. The battle armor twisted and went down to one knee. It staggered to get up, but another shot slugged it at the same location, throwing it back to the ground. The armor on its left torso had sunk in, and a long crack was visible. Once again the Se'irim struggled to erect, but once again a calculated shot hammered it yet at the same place. The armor gave up, and with a loud shriek the left arm breached at the shoulder, leaving the Se'irim tottering with a bloody stump.

I knew I did not have the means to kill the staggering troll, so I let David took charge of the situation. His PLG barked once more, and the Se'irim's chest blasted, defeated by the immense momentum of the nickel-ferrous slug. The armless battle armor swayed uncontrollably before ramming a wall. It slumped to the ground, leaning against the wall on its right shoulder.

I gave David a quick nod then sprinted inside. Some Blakists gave me resistance, but they were more of technicians or admin workers than foot soldiers. The resistant quickly fell apart, and when Evee led the Cavaliers inside, the Blakists dropped their weapons and surrendered.

But just as I thought it would be a downhill forward, I was proven wrong.

As we started to head for the brig, another Blakist blocked the corridor, wearing dark brown hood, armed only with a falchion. Before I could question the guy's sanity, I caught a glimpse of light reflection off his right arm. It was titanium. The dimly-lit corridor also gave way to part of his face that was shaded under his hood, and I could swear I saw emerald hue where his right eye was supposed to be. This guy was not human, and perhaps a falchion was all he needed to fight a machine-gun-totting horde like us.

"What the hell is that?" Evee whispered, trembling in her voice.

"Manei Domini supersoldier," I slammed a new clip into my gun. "Concentrate fire! Now!"

Traces of bullets illuminated the dimly-lit corridor, and I saw half of them slugging the cyborg's torso. But it leapt onto the wall and, disregarding the bullet hail, jumped toward the closest Cavalier. I saw blood splattered from parts of its body, but it did not seem to have any effect on it whatsoever. The falchion made a whooping sound in the air as the cyborg flashed it with a blinding speed. One second later a Cavalier stumbled without a head.

"Move back!" I yelled amidst rattling sound and panic screams. I tried to aim for the head but the cyborg jumped from wall to wall, dodging bullets while mutilating my Cavaliers, starting from the closest and worked its way toward me. One Cavalier stood valiantly, pumping his bullets until his Imperator clicked, then drew his bolo knife. But he was no match against the cyborg. The falchion flashed, and before he could do anything, it incised his midst through, all the way to his back. The cyborg drew its falchion and the valiant Cavalier slumped.

Then, only Evee and I remained.

I had never fought an enemy like this. Everything I fought before was not invincible. Whether it was as voracious as the nolans, as insidious as Jerome Helmer, as bestial as Jade Falcon Elementals, or as relentless as Sigurd, they were all living beings. They had weaknesses. This cyborg was fast, strong, impervious to pain or damage, and had no feeling of dread or panic. This creature was the perfect fighting machine.

However, it bled. Anything that bled could be killed.

I slammed my last clip then pumped three rounds at the cyborg's midst. It took the first then leapt onto the ceiling. Evee sprung forward and sprayed her bullets. Again it weathered her first few rounds then shifted position. It dashed forward with falchion aimed at my neck, and I had to use every single muscle to block his arms and pushed it onto the wall. My wrists burnt in stinging pain, but nevertheless, the cyborg rammed the wall and lost grip of its falchion.

With her last clip Evee shifted to my left and together we hammered the cyborg's back. The cyborg jerked with every thrust, but still found the drive to kick me on the solar plexus. I did not expect such an attack. As my head spun, I tottered back until the corridor wall cushioned me with its cold hardness. Evee, running out of bullet, grabbed the machine gun at the center and slammed the butt onto the cyborg's face. A furious clang ensued, a sure hint that the butt hit metal substance. The cyborg's head snapped, but it quickly regained its footing and fired a swing. Evee yelped as its left fist smashed into her face.

As Evee crashed to the floor, the cyborg turned to me, and I had a chance to see its face. Titanium covered half of its head, including its right eye which emanated warm green light. The other half was still throbbing with life, just like normal human being.

The cyborg cocked its right titanium hand and fired a straight punch at my head. I ducked, and its hand blasted through the wall. I shoved my gun at its midsection and pulled the trigger. The bullet went cleanly from its back, followed by a spray of blood. Its biological eye widened with surprise while his right telescopic one sunk into its socket. It swayed and took two steps behind, freeing me from the wall. I quickly shoved my weapon at him, aiming for its biological eye, hoping to end the fight with a straight shot through its head.

But I let my guard down. With speed like I had never seen before, the cyborg swung its right arm, and I caught a nasty hit on my temple. I felt my head exploded. I had never been knocked out with one punch before, and this was as close as I could get to that humiliation. The world felt spinning, and if it wasn't because of the corridor wall, I would've fallen, flat on my back.

Indistinctly I watched the cyborg tottered to get its falchion. I raised my arm to shoot it, but I could not get a clear aim. I could not trust my own eyes. So I slipped to the left, just as the cyborg leapt toward me. I could only guess that it was after my head. I reversed direction, throwing my body as hard as I could to my right, but the blade caught me on the left shoulder. It breached my collarbone, punctured my shoulder blade, and impaled me back to the wall.

I did not know what came out of my mouth. I could not even remember what I did. The only thing I could sense was a mighty anguish that enveloped my entire body, overloading my senses, and pushing me to the brink of death, or so I thought. My knees buckled, but the blade kept me on my feet, nailing me to the corridor wall. My breaths became heavy, and with each draw I felt my shoulder stung me.

I thought I was done.

But suddenly the cyborg's body bowed forward, accompanied by an agonizing groan. Its titanium hand involuntary crunched its falchion, splintering it in the process, with the largest chunk still lodged in my shoulder. As my vision cleared, I could see a steel pipe went through its body, entering from the back and burst cleanly on the front. There were only a few smears of blood on the pipe, but the cyborg was clearly hurt.

"Die, monster!" Evee fizzled. "Just... die!"

I did not know where she got that pipe. And I did not know why I never lost grip of my gun. My arm trembled as I brought my gun under its chin. The cyborg's chin was not covered in titanium, so I fired my gun, possibly my last bullet. My .50 caliber slug burst through its titanium cranial lobe, spraying crimson fluid and minute gadgetries over the wall. Its head snapped back, and finally, it fell flat to its back.

My breaths grew raw, and I tried to free myself from the wall but every move only added misery. Evee teetered to help me, and although her face was deformed by the cyborg's punch, she was in a much better shape than me.

"Oh God, Parker! Are you okay?" she kissed me with her bloody lips. "Honey, talk to me!"

"Pull me out..." I sighed in exasperation. "Pull me out of this wall."

With one heave Evee pulled me out, and the splintered blade finally came loose. I went down on my knees, taking breaths like a madman, then noticed the soft clattering coming from the cyborg. Although faint, the titanium arm was still shaking. That thing was still alive.

I grabbed Evee's hand, forcing myself to stand. Although half of its machine brain had been blown apart, the remaining half was still functioning, and its telescopic eyes moved back and forth in its socket, trying to get a focus of me. Its lips shook incoherently, but the voice coming out of them was crisp and clear, "You think you have won your war, infidels? Ignominy of defeat shall be yours wherever you go, because you are the greediest of mankind... Terrible doom waits for you disbelievers. Taste the punishment which is your due, you heirs of hell..."

Before it finished his rant, Yamada's katana went straight between its lips, while Kikuchi's katana sank deep into its throat. The cyborg trembled, then its telescopic eyes flickered to die. Shinoyama stabbed the cyborg on its chest, making sure that it was disposed completely.

"Easy now," David slung my right arm across his shoulder. "Everything's going to be alright. My lance will take care of the prisoners."

I look at Evee, who was assisted by Shinoyama and Kikuchi. She was not in pain barring her mangled face, so I could rest my worry for now. As we walked away, I shot one last look at the cyborg. If that was the way the Word of Blake built their troops, I had a feeling that this campaign would turn worse.

A lot, lot worse.