Cavalier's Gambit -ch 7- (Patreon)

Wayne laughed, leaned back, and then looked to the older man he was drinking with. They looked to be in their fifties but were still active.

“—yeah? Yeah. I mean, I didn’t mean to. I was just new and stupid and… yeah,” David said, looking surprised.

“Oh, I totally get that. Happens… to everyone,” Wayne agreed nodding their head.

“What happens?” asked a man in his middle-age, dropping down into the seat between Wayne and David.

Wayne had met them earlier and their name was Mike.

“He was telling me about an escort mission. Apparently he was supposed to cover a tech as they did some work, got bored, didn’t notice when the tech got rushed by four people, and then shot them all,” Wayne paraphrased.

“The bandits?” asked Mike.

“Yeah, the bandits. And the tech. Shot him in the leg. Broke it with the hit, too,” Wayne declared. “The tech put a splint on himself, finished his work, then made it back.”

David groaned, closed his eyes, and looked off to the side as Mike began to laugh uproariously.

“Ah fuck!” Mike laughed. “Last week you went right into a wall. Didn’t you say you couldn’t decide which way to turn?”

“I mean, it sounds like he never decided,” Wayne offered. “Which way to turn that is.”

“I had a head cold,” explained David.

“Yesterday, yesterday—” Mike crowed and leaned toward the other two men. “Yesterday, you put your car in the lake!”

“It wasn’t my fault, I bounced off that tree and the hill was too steep!” complained David.

“You bounced off a tree?” Wayne asked. “Wouldn’t you need to be off the road to hit a tree?”

“It shouldn’t have been there! It was just a sapling. There’s no way it should have made my car bounce,” David angrily hissed. “And besides that, thats a stupid lake. It’s a puddle! Why’s it so deep that my car sunk to the bottom?

“Whatever. Anyways. Anyways! You’re doing rather well for yourself eh Wayne? I saw you had four contracts back to back.”

Four?

I only had three.

Maybe he’s mistaken?

Or maybe something else.

I’ll need to go check my record.

“Yeah, he even got that pretty eyeball of his,” Mike stated and pointed a finger at Wayne’s eye.

“Yeah. Lost the original. They gave me a replacement,” Wayne admitted. While he wanted his eyepatch already, but he was acutely aware of the fact that it would be more eye-catching than his prosthetic eye. “I ruined the set bonus or whatever.”

Mike and David laughed at that and began relaying stories to him of injuries and wounds.

For the first time, in a long time, Wayne didn’t feel like the outsider orphan, scrambling to make enough money to buy food. That his only saving grace was the house his parents left him, and the fact that he wasn’t in a hive city.

“I’ve got an emergency contract!” called a voice from the back of the lounge area.

Glancing over his shoulder, Wayne looked to the speaker.

They were an employee of the contract guild, wearing the employee uniform and looking rather distraught.

“I’ve got an emergency contract,” they repeated as the din of voices died away. “It’s a hive city contract. I need people to go in, break a citizen cordon, enter the government building, and get a number of VIPs out.

“Pay is high, of course.

“Eight-hundred as the emergency bonus, two-hundred as an advance, three-thousand upon completion.

“Full armory pass for all pilots who participate. Walker’s will be provided as well on behalf of the reserve. They’ll be a standard issue D-Nine-A Combat unit.

“Before you ask why, the answer is stupid and simple. Everyone who can pilot is already in the field. There’s more Walkers than there are pilots.

“Squads will be assembled, but there’s no requirement for military experience. The plan won’t likely be very complicated either. They’re really just looking for you to punch a hole and provide the extraction forces assistance.

“The ones doing the extraction are mercenary forces or contractor as well.”

Wouldn’t want to be those guys.

At least with a Walker I’m armored.

“You’ve got about two minutes to make a choice,” finished the employee. “That’s all the time I’ve got to give you.”

David waved a hand at the speaker.

Mike shook his head and looked to be also disinterested.

Wayne, was interested.

Getting a government contract would help round out his portfolio. It’d also qualify him for more normal government work in the future.

This was once again an opportunity that didn’t come around that often.

Damn, if I take it… if I take it, then I’ll be able to more or less complete my passport system, so to speak. I can work for anyone, at any time, without a restriction.

That and most Walkers were made with Hive-City’s in mind.

To go where traditional armor can’t go.

A standard Combat Walker isn’t that much bigger than Patchwork. I probably couldn’t go into buildings with it but… everything else would be fine.

Wayne stood up, nodded to the two men at the table, smiled, and then went over to the employee.

“I’ll sign on,” he stated, feeling rather nervous. Reaching into his back pocket he pulled out his wallet and started to work at fishing out his license.

***

Moving with the group he’d been put into, Wayne looked down the line of the Hive-City wall. It stretched on as far as he could see and beyond.

“Soon as we enter, keep your head on straight and your eyes open,” ordered the lieutenant in charge of the fifty Walker group Wayne was part of.

Wayne had found out they were an active officer in Hive-City Wilhast’s reserve guard. Which gave Wayne some confidence in the operation.

Glancing to the radar and IFF Wayne confirmed he was in his designated position. Set between two other Walker’s in a screening action around all the infantry that was moving at a jog in the middle of them.

“Oh yeah, sure. Let’s die for these fucking spisht, scrap-worlder, Hiver sump, piece of crap, bastards,” someone hissed over the open line.

“Hey! Hey. That’s what we’re here to do,” affirmed the Lieutenant. “So we’re gonna do it.

“Unless you’re telling me I need to get your ass up in front of a court, Sergeant?”

“Sir, no sir. Just feelin’ like we’re getting frelked here,” growled the same voice.

“We’re definitely getting frelked,” the Lieutenant agreed. “Square your shit away. They’re hitting the lock.

“Sergeants, take your squads. Remember the guide.”

Wayne wondered what the hell that meant, but if he had to guess, it was probably how to comport themselves on this.

A Hive-City riot was a strange thing.

Where the citizens were the victims and also the aggressors.

Thanks again mom and dad for somehow scraping together the insane amount of money needed to get out of the Hive.

Not for the first time, Wayne wondered how his parents had managed to move out of the Hive given the costs to do so.

As every person leaving the Hive was someone who wouldn’t be contributing to it’s success. To leave, was to rob the Hive of all your future generations.

The costs were extensive to get out of the Hive because of that view.

“Alright,” a voice said causing Wayne to glance down at the com panel. The “group” light was lit up. Which meant this was his personal Sergeant. “One, two, five. You’re at the front. Eyes up, weapons are live, take a shot if you see aggression.”

Shit.

Alright then. Guess I’m at the spear-point.

“— three, four and six, rear guard. Seven, eight, sides. I’ll be near the front,” ordered the Sergeant.

Wayne stamped to the head of the group and found he was going to be positioned on the right. One and two had taken left and center, likely according to their designations.

They were contracted pilots just like himself.

Most of the officers involved in this were all part of the reserve, but all the actual roles that enlisted would fill were contracted pilots.

What made Wayne nervous, is that a lot of them seemed as new as he was. All of them drawn for the money or the chance to get a government stamped mission in their profile.

The seventy-foot tall wall they’d been moving to, and the equally massive gate set into it, shuddered. Then the gate began to tremble.

As sudden as a blink it slammed down into the ground. Sliding into some type of enclosure that’d been built into the earth.

Fuck me.

I bet there’s walls that go down into the earth, too.

No digging out of the Hive.

Though that’s probably an actual issue given the sump.

A group of Walkers rushed into gap in the wall and moved into the Hive-City’s outskirts. This would be classified as the commons of the Hive. Where the lower class dwelt in the Hive city.

The destitute, the truly unloved, all dwelt in the “sump” of the Hive-City. A series of sewers, pipes, and underground dwellings that spread all across the Hive.

As you got closer to the center of the Hive, the buildings would get better, and the class of citizens as well. At the dead center was where the nobles, the leading family of the Hive, and the seat of it’s government would be.

The Hive’s government wasn’t the planetary government, but they held a great deal of power due to the amount of resources they produced with very little in the way of cost.

“Go,” ordered the Sergeant.

Wayne and the other two in the lead turned toward the gates and entered. They were on the far left side of it and found as they entered the gap, it’d take a moment to cross.

The wall’s width was easily thirty-feet.

Wayne didn’t want to consider the amount of work it likely took to build these walls.

Or the number of bodies that’d been reduced to a corpse to make it happen.

Grimacing, Wayne put his attention on the view in front of himself.

Squat, ugly, ramshackle buildings were everywhere. Barely huts in his point of view.

Things that could be described as mean and disastrous.

Buildings that held upwards of three families, practically sleeping atop one another.

“We’ve got a half-hour walk to the factory that we’ve been ordered to,” the Sergeant advised. “Set you speed to match the infantry and hold your positions. This is our position for the formation as well.”

Wayne nodded his head and did as instructed.

The Combat Walker he was in, a Justifier, was a jack-of-all-trades Walker that did well in infantry skirmishes, but was still bigger than Patchwork. There were a number of controls inside the cockpit with him and he even had room to reach around if he wasn’t using the physical controls.

Reaching out, he flicked the cruise-control switch, adjusted it, then set it. At the same time he double checked all his weapons control systems to make sure they were live and ready to go.

Then he sat back and watched his display through the steel-glass.

All the inhabitants of this section of the Hive weren’t going to show their faces as they marched through. They weren’t the ones rioting, either.

At the moment, it was the lower-middle class rising up against their employers.

***

The sound of a laser-cannon opening up broke Wayne out of his analysis of the road. His mind had wandered a touch but he’d been on high-alert for the slightest movement.

Turning his head he leaned forward a fraction and looked out the side of the cockpit. The implant attachment cord came with him. The magnetic line stretching out partially.

That was one upgrade he’d have to put into Patchwork as soon as he could. He didn’t realize how nice it’d be to be able to move his head freely.

One of the Walker’s in the right column had opened up on a building. The burning lance of the weapon’s discharge was gone by now but the glowing hole it made in a house was visible.

“Snipers,” the Sergeant reported after several second passed. “Watch for minimal heat-signatures in windows and roofs.

“Weapons free.

“Everyone knows to stay out of the way when troops move. Everything is a valid target.”

“Fuckers are frelked,” someone murmured over the line.

“Not exactly an award winning situation, no,” the Sergeant remarked. “But they really do know better. This happens every year or two so it isn’t uncommon.

“Its also been on their internet, tv, and radio. They’ve been told to keep down and out of sight.”

Wayne really didn’t like this situation. It left him feeling a lot like a mindless henchman. Ordered to stomp out all resistance as it presented itself.

It’s for the stamp.

I get a government stamp for this and can participate in their contracts going forward. Just keep going for now.

Maybe I won’t—

“Sarge, there’s someone there,” reported someone in his group.

“Take the shot!” ordered the Sergeant.

“But I can’t tell if it’s—”

A muffled whump, immediately followed by warning sounds from his Walker, alerted Wayne to the fact that something bad just happened.

There was a crackling noise a second before a clang.

By the time Wayne had turned to look at the riot of sound and noise, a Walker was laid out on the ground.

The cockpit was crumpled and there was an odd amount of light coming out o fit. As if there was some type of fire inside of it.

“This is why I said fire!” growled the Sergeant, moving over to the fallen Walker. “If you get a heat-signature, it isn’t supposed to be there!”

The Sergeant reached into the cockpit and shoved the Walker to one side.

“He’s blagged, for fucks sake,” hissed the Sergeant and then moved back into position. “Get moving. We can’t linger here. You see a heat sig, you shoot it!”

“Shit,” Wayne muttered, and resolved himself.

Before he could settle back into the pace he’d had previously, he noted the infantry was moving faster. Moving at a swift jog and turning to the left.

“Change, change, speeding up. Our target got changed. We’ve got a more priority target here and now. It’s a government building,” the Sergeant ordered. “Shift it, hit that corner and sprint out to the building ahead.

“We got elected as the front element cause we’re closest. Three, take One’s spot.”

Doing as ordered, Wayne sped up. He took the corner, then went into the “sprint” rate of speed on the cruise-control.

He knew he could run faster if he wanted but he’d outdistance his group.

Ahead of him he could see a building.

One that was partly on fire and surrounded by a mob of people.

“Put a few shots into the crowd’s vicinity. The wall looks like a nice backdrop. Scatter’em,” the Sergeant ordered.

Leveling his weapon on a wall, Wayne pulled the trigger on his laser cannon that was his right arm. He could have lifted up his left arm and fired off a round with his kinetic rifle, but that’d be more likely to cause a burst of wall-fragments.

The laser would just melt what it hit or make it catch fire.

Someone on his left fired straight into the crowd with a burst of laser shots. A handful of people going down in a screaming flaming mess of arms and legs.

Holy fuck.

The sergeant said nothing.

“Take the gate and push up to the building, we’re holding the courtyard!” the Sergeant ordered instead. “Anyone not in a Wilhast uniform is a target! Five, I want you on that frelking doorway!”

“Ah shit, what,” growled Wayne.

Thinking back to the training program he’d been testing with Horrace he pulled out the kinetic rifle that the Justifier came with. A short barreled thing that was more similar to an SMG to the Walker than a rifle.

The crowd had scattered at this point and were running off.

Most of them, at least.

There were a determined number of people that were now trying to get into the building.

A stream of laser fire streaked out and began peppering all the remaining rioters near the front of the building. Sending a great many of them crashing to the ground.

Then small-arms fire opened up from inside the building. Laying out a great many of those that remained.

Wayne noted that it looked like to him several had gotten into the front door that he’d be responsible for.

When he reached his position, he dropped down to one knee, noting that the knee joint of the Walker landed atop several dead and dying rioters and crushed them.

This is so fucked.

Leaning down, Wayne got eyes on the hall beyond.

There was a group of people there, all of them in non-combat uniforms. Trying to break into what he suspected was locked and barricaded doors.

There was a number of corpses spread out in the corridor as well. Those in uniform as well as those not.

Lifting up the kinetic weapon Wayne dropped the crosshair on the people inside.

And hesitated.

Then one of their number spotted him, lifted a pistol, and fired it at him.

It did nothing at all to the steel-glass of his canopy, but it reminded him that these were armed and violent individuals.

Regardless of their cause, right or wrong, he was here to do a job he volunteered for. Grimacing, he flicked the crosshair to the person who’d fired, and fired a single round.

It struck them with a great deal of velocity.

Their torso exploding outward in a spray of shimmering crimson.

That got everyone’s attention.

What’d originally been a mad dash to get into the rooms, now turned into an escape. All of the individuals in the hall pushing and trampling over one another to get out of the way.

Wayne waited, noting that these people were no longer a problem.

Even as they began pushing out through a window in the back of the building.

Only for laser fire to sweep past the opening and fry everyone escaping.

The handful left in that hallway looked back to Wayne.

He found himself staring into the eyes of a young man and woman standing side by side. Gazing at him as he gazed back.

Then the two of them dropped to the floor amongst bodies of others, and laid perfectly still.

As if catching on, everyone else did the same.

“Doorway is clear,” Wayne reported.

A double squad of soldiers rushed into the hall and went straight for the doors. They ignored the bodies and everything else.

In seconds, the doors opened, people in uniforms similar to the infantry came out and joined the group.

Those that’d laid down at the back of the corridor didn’t move. They didn’t twitch or even breathe it seemed like.

Wayne watched them from his vantage.

As everyone rushed out of the doors, then from a stairwell, Wayne remained in position. In just a minute the area was clear and he was staring down the hall.

The woman was staring at him still.

Wayne stared back.

Then her hands lifted up, flexed, then went limp against the ground again.

As if she were silently surrendering somehow.

Standing up, Wayne ignored it all.

Looking back the way he’d come, a white box was painted around something along the roofline. The information appeared next to it.

An anti-armor rifle made to penetrate steel-glass.

It was supposed to be in an armory a few miles away.

Without hestitation, Wayne snapped up his crosshair on the white box, pulled the trigger, and reported it at the same time.

“Roofline, anti-armor!”

The white-box disappeared along with whoever was probably carrying it.

Then a great number of white-boxes began to appear, even as everyone began to take shots at rooflines and move out of the area.

“Out and to the right!” the sergeant screamed.