BattleMaster (The BattleMaster Corps Book 1) Page 4

  Every movement of the drones originated inside Stephanie’s brain. They were hers to command, her responsibility, and she wielded them like a master pianist moves his fingers.

  A pair took hits. One disappeared in an explosion as the other fell into a death plunge.

  She pressed on.

  In unison, the eight remaining drones arrested their wild movements. Missiles lunged forward and their noses spat laser bolts. The enemy air defenses were consumed by flames that reached for the sky.

  Stephanie cheered internally. Her face remained stone, not even a smile slipping past her concentration.

  Darting right, then left, the drones avoided small-arms fire before leveling off to drop a payload of scatter bombs. The ordinance detonated as one, coating the ground below in a sheet of black smoke.

  Eight metal birds of prey gained altitude.

  Relief washed over Stephanie. Muscles unclenched and her breathing steadied. That smile also reached the surface.

  The feed was cut. The sudden quiet inside her head took her by surprise. One second she was soaring into the clouds and now nothing but her own dull thoughts bounced around her skull.

  Her eyes opened to see a concrete wall. Simulation. The mock battle had felt so lifelike she’d forgotten it wasn’t real.

  The door behind her opened and Captain Chandler entered. “Well done, Lieutenant. Much better than your last field experience.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Yes.” Reba circled her. “I see why you did very well at BattleMaster School. You handled your simulation bots like a vet. You were cool and decisive, exactly the way BattleMasters should be.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Stephanie’s chest tightened. She felt a but coming.

  “But that’s not what you were in your first real fight.” Reba stopped in front of her. “You panicked. I reviewed the recordings. You let fear corrupt your thoughts. That emotion eroded your ability to effectively coordinate your bots. The link between you and your bots is complex in the extreme, lieutenant. You can’t afford to let emotions take up valuable bandwidth with such luxuries as fear. After all, the danger to your person is fairly limited.”

  Stephanie lowered her head. “I’m not worried about myself.”

  “Than what are you afraid for?” Reba renewed her circling.

  Stephanie fidgeted. “I...it’s just...” She sighed. “I’m scared of letting our company down. In the simulations, if I screw up, no one dies.” Her hand flung at the door. “Out here, if I don’t do my job right, soldiers die. They’re counting on us to protect them. They’re the ones who risk their lives and they do so expecting that we’ll have their backs.”

  The truth was even deeper than that. Stephanie had been raised by a single mother. Her father had died on New Calcutta when she was a little girl. When she was old enough, she researched his life and death to learn more about him. She discovered that an early version of a BattleMaster, a one unit − one controller system, failed to cover his unit’s advance properly, which had played a significant part in his demise.

  She’d joined the Corps, in part, to ensure that the next time a soldier charged into battle, he didn’t do so alone. The pressure she placed on herself was proving to be too much to endure under combat conditions.

  Reba shook her head. “That’s your problem, lieutenant. You care too much about the apes.”

  The last word set her off without warning. “They’re not apes...sir. They’re soldiers and they advance bravely into enemy fire when ordered to.” I’m gonna pay for that.

  The circling footfalls ceased behind her. “Watch yourself, lieutenant. It doesn’t really matter what you care about, but the fact remains that your emotions are hindering your ability to do your job.” The steps restarted. “It’s ironic. The fact that you actually care about the grunts is what will cause you to get more of them killed. I suggest you think about that.”

  She’s right. I’m like a doctor who gets sick at the sight of blood. If I can’t learn to contain my emotions, I’m no good to my dad. I mean the soldiers.

  “Understood, sir. I’ll work on that.”

  “Very well. Run another simulation and call it a day. I have an appointment to get to.”

  The metal door opened and closed with a thud behind her.

  “Computer, run program four point eight.” Something big is coming. I have to be ready or else good men will die.

  ***

  Reba brushed a loose strand of red hair behind her ear as she walked with quick steps toward her office. Her afternoon appointment was almost due and she didn’t want to be late. Stepping through her door, she glanced at the wall clock. He’ll be here any second.

  She sat at her desk and fidgeted, her fingers accidentally dragging across the scar on her left forearm. The sensation brought a flood of unwanted memories to the surface. She’d received the memento when she was nine years old on Christmas Eve. Her father had been drinking heavily, as he did most nights. His alcoholism had become a growing problem and her mother confronted him about it.

  The argument escalated until her father began to beat her mother. The memories of her mother’s tears and begging for mercy caused goosebumps to rise. She remembered her younger self balling her fists and charging, dealing her father a series of puny blows. In his drunken rage, he hadn’t even noticed her.

  That drove her mad. She was powerless but refused to remain so. Picking up a lamp, she hammered his head until she drew blood. He cried out in pain and swung his arm in reflex, striking her on the chest. The blow knocked her into the glass coffee table, shattering it. The sound of the breaking glass was what finally pulled his attention away from her bloodied mother.

  Reba’s arms were covered in blood. He looked at her in horror and shame before rushing to attend to the wound. All three of them went to the hospital where her mother told a series of wild lies to explain away their injuries.

  Her father never physically harmed either of them again, but the damage had been done. She hated him and lost all respect for her weak mother. After that night, the thing she remembered most about her mom was the blank look in her eyes. A part of her had died that Christmas Eve, to be replaced with … nothing.

  A knock at the door pulled her back to the present. She snapped straight, relaxed her arms, and put a coy grin on her lips. “Enter.”

  Private Michael Stanner crept into her office. The ape was a young stud, his physique hardened by the recent increase in PT. That wasn’t what got her juices flowing, though. His features were handsome enough. He had even plastered a phony smile on his face for her benefit. That made no difference. She knew he didn’t want to be there, and that was what turned her on. He was a powerless man, there by her command to do whatever she ordered.

  He locked eyes with her.

  Oh, yes. Her thighs rubbed together. There it is. Stanner had that dull look in his eyes, the same one her mother had after that night. I’ve broken you. So strong. So manly. So what?

  Reba licked her lips. “Take off your pants and lay down.” He did as he was told. They always did for her.

  Chapter Five

  A sharp pain bored into Stephanie’s head. It felt like someone was hammering nails into her temples. She gritted her teeth and exhaled between them.

  “Just a few more seconds,” Dr. Xavier Bach assured her.

  She heard the clicks of the dial he turned to realign her wetware. Stephanie’s brain was far from normal anymore. Wires, implanted CPUs and a micro radio system made her a poor woman’s cyborg.

  The pain eased to merely a throbbing headache. She opened her eyes to see Xavier make one final correction. Clarity of thought reappeared as the pain evaporated.

  “There.” He put his hands in his lab coat pockets. “You are at one-hundred percent.”

  Weeks of intense training had gotten her out of whack. Her brain had felt like gravel was littering the neural pathways, not unlike the spine of an athlete after a rough game. Xavier performed a type of mental chiropract
ic adjustment.

  “Thanks, Doc.” She bobbed her head around as if checking for kinks. “I feel like a new woman.”

  “I can’t speak to that, Lieutenant, but your BattleMaster wetware is ready for whatever planetary command has planned for you.”

  Stephanie hopped off the exam bed. “I’m good to go?”

  “Just one more thing.” He held up a finger and reached for a scanner with the other hand. Turning it on, he waved it around the circumference of her head. His neutral expression shifted to a frown.

  “Something wrong?” Stephanie bit her lip.

  “No.” Xavier sighed. “You’re in perfect shape. An ideal mind for the BattleMaster Corps. I was — I was just hoping you’d be a candidate for a pet project I’m working on.”

  “Oh. Sorry to disappoint you. Can I go?”

  He nodded.

  Stephanie exited the lab and headed straight to the landing pad outside. She wanted to test her link with her drones. The craft were neatly parked amid a sea of identical copies. Something big was coming, that much was obvious. Command wouldn’t concentrate this much force for no reason.

  She weaved through the maze of triangles, knowing exactly which ones belonged to her. It was like a mother’s intuition. She found her babies and ran a hand along one of the gray hulls. Her mind melded with it, making them one.

  She expanded the link to all ten and ran a system diagnostic. Something caught her attention during the sensor check. She wasn’t alone. Someone was on the other side of the drone.

  “Who’s there?” She thought-clicked on the optic feed. “Don’t move and identity yourself.”

  The man’s face went slack and he snapped to attention. “Private Stanner, sir. Second Company, Third Regiment.”

  That was her unit. He does look familiar. She ran him through facial recognition and he checked out. Watching him in her head with the optics, she walked around the drone. “Private, what are you doing here? This is a restricted area.”

  “Yes, sir, I know. I, I was just looking at them. I swear I was just looking.”

  Stephanie narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

  “I’m curious, sir. We never get to see these angels up close.”

  “Angels?”

  A spark flashed in his eyes. “Oh, yes, sir. I think of them as guardian angels. After all, they drop from the heavens to protect grunts like me. Sounds like an angel or a Valkyrie, don’t you think?”

  “Valkyrie?”

  “Nordic mythology from Earth. Valkyrie were magical women warriors who watched over soldiers and escorted them to the afterlife if they died in battle.” He shrugged. “Well, I guess that last part doesn’t really fit.”

  The idea brought a smile to her face. I never thought of it like that but, yeah, that’s why I do it. “I like that, private.” She glanced down the gaps between the drones. They were alone. “What would you like to know about them? Oh, and stand at ease.”

  His body relaxed. “What’s it like? I mean, how do you feel when you have all of that information flooding your head?”

  “Like drinking from a firehose.” She twisted her lips and looked into the distance. “No, it’s more than that. It’s more than just volume. When I’m immersed in the link, I almost forget I have a body. To do it right, you have to let go, becoming one with your drones. The trick is being one with multiple units at the same time.” She shook her head. “It’s hard to put into words.”

  Stanner ran his fingers across the hull. “I can only imagine.” He laughed. “You’ll think I’m crazy, but I plan to take the exam — again. I want to be a BattleMaster. I know I don’t have much of a chance. After all, no man has ever passed. I need to try, though.”

  “There’s no harm in trying, private.” Stephanie shrugged. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll be the first. Society used to tell women they couldn’t do a lot of stuff, and we proved them wrong.”

  “Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”

  Stephanie’s com crackled to life. “Lieutenant,” Reba’s voice burst into her head.

  She put a hand on her ear to let Stanner know she wasn’t talking to him. “Yes, Captain Chandler.” The private’s body went rigid. That’s odd, she thought.

  “Where are you, lieutenant?”

  “I’m on the landing pad, sir.”

  “Good, I’m near there. I’ll be there in three minutes. We have some details to run through.”

  “Understood, sir. I’m at the southwest corner. I’ll see you soon.” The connection cut.

  Stephanie turned her attention back to Stanner. “Private...”

  “Um.” Blood drained from his face as he looked around with wide eyes. “I should be going, sir. I don’t want to get you in trouble. I’m sorry I bothered you.”

  “Okay.” She cocked her head. He was walking away backwards. “It was a pleasure meeting you, private. Dismissed.”

  “Thank you, sir.” He turned and ran away.

  What got into him?

  ***

  General Kyle Mendez puffed out his chest as he entered the heart of the American Army on New Calcutta. He brought with him the battle plan to drive a wedge between the developing Euro-Chinese alliance that threatened to tip the balance of power in the Eden System. He would command forces on the attack tomorrow and sought to carry himself as such.

  A knot formed in his gut. He clenched a fist and pushed the doubt aside before it showed.

  General Samantha Pendergast, the Planetary Commander, greeted him with a smile. The show of human emotion took some of the weight off him. For a moment he saw her as the woman he had once known, the one she’d been before her metamorphosis.

  The cable draped over her shoulder and plugged into the port on the back of her bald head reminded him of how much she’d changed.

  Kyle stood at attention. “Reporting as ordered, general.”

  She waved off the show of formality. “There’s no need for that, Kyle. We’re alone. Let’s talk like the old friends we are. Such a luxury is a rarity for me these days.”

  Old friends? He forced a smile past the unintentionally hurtful words. “Of course, Samantha. Would you like to run through the updated plan so we’re sure we’re on the same page?”

  She gestured to the command table. “Yes, please do.”

  Kyle gripped the edge of the table. “Computer, open Operation Great Divide.” A 3D image of the landscape separating American and European Confederation territory appeared. Low-lying hills stood between the opposing forces. Blue icons identified the attacking units. “Per our last discussion, I’ve given back five aerial BattleMasters to the defending force.”

  “Yes. I know you didn’t like doing that, but my projections showed that we need that extra firepower to prevent the expected Chinese assault from achieving a breakout.”

  He nodded. “I understand. I will still have a hundred and ten BattleMasters, fifty aerial and sixty ground, at my disposal. That should be enough to reach our objectives. Computer, advance to phase one.” The display shifted as two clusters of blue icons swarmed red-colored positions. “With eight infantry companies embedded with the lead BattleMaster elements, we will overwhelm key concentrations of Euro forces.

  “Computer, phase two.” Blue arrows moved deep into the enemy area. “Once the door is open, our main BattleMaster element will move swiftly through the rear, destroying supply stockpiles and infrastructure. The other forward-deployed Euro forces will be unable to make any significant advance into our territory without that logistical support. They will have to pull back to try to rein us in.”

  Samantha came alongside him. Her proximity quickened his pulse. She folded her arms. “It’s about damn time we’ve massed our BattleMasters into the mighty armored formations of the old Earth armies. Scattering them among the infantry companies is no different than how France used tanks at the start of the Second World War. Look how that worked out for them.”

  He matched her pose. “That error is probably what’s prevented us from making significa
nt gains in the last ten years.” He shrugged. “But, like the tank once was, the BattleMasters are a relatively new weapon system that’s revolutionizing warfare. We’re still mastering the concepts of their operation and utilization.”

  Samantha rubbed her temples. “Oh, you don’t have to remind me. My head aches to this day at the mere thought of those early years. The link was so - raw, so intense and it would flicker on and off.

  “And we were so expensive to produce that the top brass and bean counters set doctrine to prevent us from being used as you laid out. It still took some convincing to get this plan approved by Liberty.”

  “I remember. BattleMasters were too unreliable to be massed. They were heavily dependent on the infantry to cover them when they went down.”

  “Well, that, too, but it’s no longer the case.” She nodded at the display. “It’s high time we took full advantage of their capabilities. The key will be to avoid getting surrounded once you’re deep in the enemy’s rear.”

  “Agreed. We’ll move fast and strike like lightning, cutting a wide swath of destruction, much like a cavalry charge in the spirt of JEB Stuart during the Civil War. Staying fluid, making sure we aren’t cut off or surrounded.” With the press of an icon he changed the view to the Chinese front. “How do our defenses look?”

  Samantha strolled around the table. “Most of what’s left of the planetary division is entrenched. Layer after layer of works are in place to absorb any assault. The few BattleMasters assigned to defense are in deep reserve to counter any unseen issues.”

  Kyle rubbed his chin and arched an eyebrow. “What’s the word out of the Liberty Colonial Gov? This whole affair is a larger gamble than they’ve traditionally been okay with. It’s something I’ve been wondering about. I know there’s the alliance — but still, it’s quite the shift in attitude.”