The Coyote class mechs were the only models, at least that Sokol had seen, equipped with fully articulated hands, each tipped with titanium claws, meant to allow the mechs to climb surfaces stout enough to support their weight. Sokol’s adrenaline surged as he considered that Ogre One and Night Witch both were more prone to use them in close quarters combat, an unorthodox use of mech-warriors, though a common tactic amongst the killers who called the starship Fatalis home.
Ogre One’s grindcore sparked with what Sokol chose to believe was anticipation for the hunt to come, and he snapped his attention back to the moment at hand.
Lelani’s crews had retreated from the assault deck and he could feel the rumble of the ship’s hull as the Fatalis performed rapid planetfall. Upon entering the system, Fatalis scanners had picked up the presence of a Praxis Mundi cor-sec frigate, whose appearance ran counter to the ship scheduling intelligence that had been purchased at a high price, which had made a gentle planetfall without noticing the Fatalis as the warship skulked on the shadow side of the small world.
The captain of the Fatalis, Kochi the Deathless, as he was called, had determined that the warship would break atmosphere and engage the frigate while the mech squad shattered the facility, and a swarm party of armed crew members would move up to support the war machines.
Sokol had never himself witnessed such a wild piece of piloting, though he knew that only a small percentage of commanders and flight staff would attempt such a thing. To break atmosphere at such speeds would superheat the ship and rattle its very bones, putting the vessel’s engineering and construction to the greatest of tests, even when the pilot’s angle of descent was perfect. However, should the ship hold together and achieve flight normalcy, then the very presence of the starship was a game changer, as it could bring its weapons to bear upon targets without any of the usual complications and potency reductions of firing from orbit.
The ship suddenly started to buck and shake from what felt like projectile impacts. Apparently, the corporate scum planetside had finally woken up to the fact that a Red List warship had entered their airspace.
Never was there a battle so pure as the one waged for survival. As a Red List community, their freedom was a desperate sort, fueled by theft and piracy in an unending struggle to last just one more cycle. Fiat Lux had been living lean for nearly six months as their rangers had been scouring necrospace for a worthwhile target. There were mouths to feed, with precious little time to make a good kill and harvest a fresh bounty.
“Eight flak batteries and four turbo-lasers on the compound, looks like they weren’t expecting anything heavier than conventional air support, and the frigate is a solid three minutes out,” reported Lelani. The mech squad could hear the voice of Morgan growling from inside Night Witch as Lelani added, “Swarm barges away. Planetfall in twenty seconds. War machines, fangs out!”
“I am the Hammer that strikes Unrelenting!” shouted Gregory Schnect from the cockpit of Swift Hammer, a Titan class mech that stood several meters taller than Sokol in his machine, making the Coyote class machine look more like an exoskeleton than a mech by comparison, as he chambered and primed high velocity thud rounds in the cannons mounted on both his arms and shoulders.
“I am the Beast that stalks the Fields!” answered Sokol before he revved his ripsaw and squared his shoulders, the beat of his heart and the grind of his mech combining to breach the barrier in his psyche between man and machine while he braced for eject.
“I am the Storm that shatters the Walls!” bellowed Angron from within Thunder Walks, the re-furbished Titan class mech that had seen combat in a dozen wars before the Fiat Lux reavers had stolen it, though any who witnessed the mech in action would swear that the man named Angron had been born in its metal womb.
“I am the Darkness that destroys all Hope,” whispered Morgan, while the Night Witch, with its twin plasma lances, stood perfectly still as the pilot deftly adjusted the mech’s stance in time with the impacts and shifts in the ship’s course.
“Good hunting,” intoned Lelani as she keyed the quick release hatch and activated an ejection sequence that hurled the four mechs forward even as the ship’s hard banking maneuver dumped them out right above the complex.
6. THE GOOD KILL
Sokol’s heart pounded in his chest as Ogre One hit the open sky, and the pilot activated all his scanners at once to survey the battlescape as his machine plummeted downwards.
A warship the size of Fatalis entering the atmosphere of a larger world would not have done much more than cause a few minor electrical storms if anything at all. However, PM2258 was small enough that the sudden and violent presence of Fatalis breaking atmo had caused tremendous havoc. That much mass and energy entering the delicate planetary eco-system threw the weather into a fury. Electrical storms raged all around him as Sokol fell towards the fortress through sheets of rain and hail. The gun emplacements down below were struggling to compensate for the sudden and dramatic change in the weather, though judging from the incoming fire streaking past him, they had been able to ground their weapons to prevent damage from the electrical chaos.
Below him the complex waited, and now that he could get a more unfiltered look at it with his own instruments he was happy to see that it was a hard target indeed. It was a rectangular fortress with wide sloping walls and dirt berms all around it. Most of the complex had the look of a bunker the various gun emplacements on the outer wall were all connected by open passageways. Sokol surmised that they made for the swift transport of the guns, supply runs, and troop movements. This fortress would have been nigh impregnable to the average space pirate band. Attackers would have to engage in an air-to-ground battle with the guns and move troops over land in a direct assault, both of which would be costly. The walls were pre-fab concrete, which was to be expected, though he could tell by the color that the Praxis builders had coated the surface in impact enamel, a substance that would rob most incoming fire of its kinetic energy. So they wouldn’t be able to shoot their way in, thought Sokol as a smile spread across his face, that just meant they’d have to fight their way inside while under fire no matter where they landed, a prospect he relished.
The ravagers of Fiat Lux were predators, and Captain Kochi took that metaphor seriously. In the few wilderness areas that remained in known space the predators of the natural world were not warriors, and did not seek conflict with equals. Better to run down something weaker than oneself than do battle with an equal adversary. When the captain was presented with targets by the rangers it was his custom to seek the weakest target that would yield the most abundant spoils. It was no different for the multitudes of space pirates that shared the black with Fiat Lux. What set the ravagers apart was their war grade hardware and military discipline, which enabled the hunters aboard the starship Fatalis to seize prizes far beyond the ability of common bandits.
Red Listers were thought of by corporate society as desperate folk, castoffs who eked out their meager existence wandering the stars in rag-tag clusters of junk ships or squatting on abandoned property in the hopes that it stayed forgotten. Even space pirates, menacing as they might seem to those who only knew them from stories, were little more than the afore mentioned castoffs who happened to have a few guns and a slightly faster ship. Fiat Lux was something different, a community that has gained notoriety in several sectors for their hardware, their discipline, and their savagery.