The Theft

The Cav engineer looked over his work.  It was a beautiful, shining, example of engineering.  The engineer loved his job: he was stationed in a hidden military installation.  He had been hand-picked for his Cavalier mechanical expertise, and had been shipped off to a remote planet and instructed to fine-tune high-end military mechs.  Which was fine by him, he could spend all day in the hangar working on his beautiful Cavs.  In fact, the engineer would have been content to have continued working on his Cavalier units all day.  Right up to the point when the wall behind him exploded.

Claxons began blaring throughout the hangar.  The explosion had sent several 25-ton mechs sprawling all over the bay.  Pilots, technicians, mechanics, and military police began running attempting to get control of the situation.  They stopped short when a giant figure emerged through the smoking hole in the wall.  The engineer, dazed and bleeding looked at the Cav walking into the bay fully armed and knew instantly it wasn’t one of his.  It was covered in Mercenary markings, not to mention a veritable armory of weapons.  What it was doing there he could only guess and the engineer was really not in the mood to take one.  Instead he ran for the exit with everyone else.

The Merc Cav came to a stop in the center of the bay, its modular head unit swiveling, taking in the carnage.  It seemed strangely satisfied in its work for a moment, and suddenly lifted up a couple feet – large variable-friction wheel-units extended from their recesses in the soles of the feet and the Cav began skating down the hangar bay.  A couple of remaining military police took a few pot-shots at it, but without heavier weaponry, there was little they could do to it.

It slowed and stopped before the far wall at the end of the hangar, and a scanning laser flicked out from the head-unit.  After a moment, the laser stopped and the machine rolled back a step or two.  It changed its posture to that of a football player about to make a tackle, and two large boxes attached at the shoulder flipped up and open.  Twenty “mini-missile” rockets arced out and slammed into the wall creating another massive, smoking hole.  The Merc Cav stepped over the new threshold and disappeared into the gloom.

Two stories below in the complex’s main control room, a nervous Captain stared at the readouts on the monitor.  From where he was sitting, he could see his career ending in a matter of minutes.  The enemy unit had somehow breached the base’s outer defense and silently worked its way down 25 stories and now was wreaking almighty havoc in his top-secret weapons hangar bays.  He saw its direction, and knew instantly where it was headed.  Sweat beaded on his brow.  He also knew that the lone mercenary had exploited a security flaw and bypassed autonomous security by blowing the holes in the walls, and now there was nothing between it and its obvious goal that could possibly stop it.  Moments prior he had been yelling at the poor yeoman at the communication console demanding Cav units to give chase, but it was too late.  The main hangar was in shambles and the engineers that hadn’t evacuated had their hands full getting the debris cleared and the mechs right-side up.

The Captain watched in disbelief and mounting despair as the enemy unit annihilated another wall and entered the White Zone – a special clean zone requiring the highest of clearances.  Apparently there was no higher clearance then high explosives.  How was he supposed to report this to his superiors?  He had been given command of three full Cav squadrons, near three hundred elite troops and support personnel, a hollow mountain set up like a fortress to serve as a secret base on an out-of-the-way planet in as dull a system as the Military could possibly find and yet he couldn’t stop a single mercenary mech!  His project had been classified Ultra Top Secret, and he had been posted there to protect the Military’s greatest scientific achievement.  He wasn’t going to get a discharge, the nervous Captain suddenly thought, he was going to be executed.  The experiment was supposed to be a symbol of the Military’s might for the next decade.  And in the growing political jungle, the Military needed a symbol very badly.  He was dead for sure.

“Where the fuck are those Cavs damn it all!?  They should be ripping that Merc to shreds by now!”

“I’m sorry, sir.  Hangar Bay 12 reports all units incapacitated.  I can get some units from Hangar 3, but it will take 10 minutes to get from the other side of the complex with all of the security in place,” Ensign Nikki Halloway squeaked out quickly.  This was her first day on communications duty and she was plenty sure the blame was going to get dumped on her.  She should have listened to her mother and taken the other job offer.

“Security?  What fucking security?  That Cav just walked in here like it was on a shopping spree!”

“After the initial explosion, firewalls have closed throughout the complex in standard containment procedure.  It’s hampering movement in the complex.”  The Captain was turning purple and a vein had begun to crisscross up his temple.  He gestured wildly at the screen.

“Does that look hampered to you??  No?  Then turn it the fuck off!!  I want those units here yesterday!!”

“Yes, sir!” the Ensign cried.  The Captain looked like he was about to murder someone.  As she turned off the emergency containment and released the firewall locks she thought about submitting a report to Military HR for “Hostile Work Environment”.

The Mercenary Cav finished laser welding the blast door shut it had just moments before ripped open.  That should hold the Military for a bit.  The mech turned towards the barely hit hangar behind it and turned on the floods in the head-unit.  Immediately a large shape was highlighted covered in massive tarps.  It was all alone sitting in the center of the hangar.  The mech came forward and with some effort, flipped the tarps off. 

Uncovered and in the light, the object became a large aircraft.  It was massive, big enough to hold at least ten of the Military Cavs in its belly.  Its large wings were swept slightly forward and the trailing edge was made up of several blocky trapezoid ‘fingers’ placed evenly and symmetrically.  A block of seven engines, three mains in a line, with two minors above and below bordered by two large tails that swept above and below the main line made up the rear of the aircraft.  Its smooth lines ran forward into a gooseneck and then into a large forward blister-bridge area that had three canard wings at the diagonals, two above, and one below.  Its hull was dotted with gun blisters and hidden panels containing rocket packs and laser stubs.  This mighty aircraft was the object of the Merc’s raid.

The Merc Cav walked to the rear of the aircraft and knelt down on one knee.  The head-unit slid up and forward out of place to rest on the chest faring to reveal a hatch which then opened with a hiss.  The pilot leapt out and hopped down from the shoulder to the arm resting on the knee, and then slid down the leg to the floor.  The pilot was small and from the skin-tight body suit, was obviously female.  She walked to the rear landing gear of the massive craft and opened a box nestled between the tires that were easily twice the pilot’s height.  Hitting a few buttons and then punching in a code, a cargo hatch popped open and lowered to the ground behind the pilot. 

The pilot went back to the mech and scrambled back up and into the cockpit.  Without closing the cockpit, she walked the unit up the gangway and into the cargo bay of the giant plane.  Her Cav could easily stand fully erect and even raise its arms before touching the ceiling.  The pilot had seen military bases that could have fit inside that bay.  Again taking a knee, the pilot jumped out and ran over to the cargo door control panel.  It was at this time, that the lights turned from warning red back to calm white outside in the hangar and a computer voice echoing over the intercom began stating that the firewall locks were released.  The pilot made a laugh that came through the helmet voice filter as a metallic garble and then closed the cargo bay door, sealing her inside the belly of the beast.

Back in the control room, the Captain was screaming like a mad man.  He had completely lost all composure as the situation fell farther and farther from his control.  Nikki was still crying, and he was still screaming.  The units from Hangar 3 were stuck four stories above waiting for a cargo elevator to ferry them down.  Everything was moving too slow. 

The Ensign squeaked from her console, and the Captain ran over to look at the screen.  What he saw there made his blood run cold.  The Merc had actually made it into the main hangar and had gone inside the aircraft.  Preposterous!  The Captain made a strange gagging sound when the craft’s engines rumbled to life, but Ensign Halloway was too frightened to look at the man.  She jumped as he began screaming at the Cav units through her communication headset from behind her.  The pilots could probably hear the man without the communications gear. 

“The Merc has made contact with the Praetorian MK III!!!  Get your fucking asses in gear and get there! So help me GOD, if you asswipes ain’t in that hangar in 30 seconds I’ll make sure you are all sent to the Arctic Zone for permanent duty!!  There went five seconds…I mean yesterday people!!”

The ensign heard some yelps from the Cavs and then a rumble as the pilots decided it was quicker to blow a hole through the cargo elevator.  She thought it was safer for them in the end then facing the Captain’s ire.  She was probably right.

The Merc finished removing the safety catches on the Patterson reactor and shoved the control rods back in place.  Damn engineers always so fussy about the packaging.  The system came to life, and she ran for the bridge.  It was a long run, and she felt the engines rumble to life as she did so.  Lights turned on in the hallways, and the air ventilation system kicked in.

Once at the bridge she got a good look at the door she had welded shut earlier.  It was starting to glow.  Apparently the military had finally caught up and were trying to melt their way inside.  They were still too slow.

The Merc looked around the cockpit.  The cockpit for this aircraft couldn’t rightfully be called a cockpit.  It was too big.  There were six seats on the main bridge.  Three forward: one for the pilot, navigator, and weapons officer.  Three aft: one center and facing forward for the aircraft commander, and then two flanking that chair pointing off to port and starboard for radar and communications officers.  The Merc knew that those seats were necessary for the craft in standard conditions, but under her conditions she only needed the pilot’s chair.  She jumped into the forward chair and brought the main computer online.

The screen blinked to life and ran through the POST (Power-On Start Test) startup checks.  Then it came up with the standard aircraft HUD.  In the corner was a small box with Praetorian MK III Main System: Booting…  The Merc thought this message was a little odd in light of the system already being active but not worth thinking about, so she pushed the thought away and started up the main engine block.  She also, as per the instructions she had been given, started up the Patterson Drive Extensions.  The “fingers” along the trailing edge of the wing split down the horizontal line of their trapezoidal boxes and half angled up, while half angled.  The wing now had a series of “feathers” above and below.  Inside each opened box was revealed the PDE emitters which increased the thrust ratio of the craft nearly one hundred times that of the main engine block which is the sole reason a craft so immense could get airborne.  The pilot also knew that the same system could easily power the aircraft at FTL speeds while in space. 

The Merc accessed the remote air control system using the password she’d been given and accessed the turntable controls.  The tarmac on which the craft was situated began to rotate to the right towards another massive blast door.  According to the information she’d been given on taking this assignment, that door accessed the main flight ramp for the craft and was a one-way trip out of the mountain.  With the firewall locks off, she had no trouble opening the blast door on her end, and the blast door on the other end that lead outside.

“What the fuck?” the Captain said in a hoarse voice.  He was referring to the launch ramp doors activating. 

Nikki closed her eyes, “You ordered me to deactivate the firewall locks.  In doing so, the enemy unit was given access to the door controls.”  The Captain was surely going to call that insubordination and shoot her on the spot.  Why were commanding officers armed?

The Captain spun and stared at her a moment, and then sank to his knees.  It was over.  Due to Military Code in emergency situations, everything that he stated or ordered was recorded by the computer for playback later in case of review or court-martial.  The Captain was sure it was the latter, and it would lead straight to the firing squad.  He had indeed ordered the ensign to deactivate the security locks in order to get the Cavs from Hangar 3 quicker. 

Nikki felt a sudden wave of relief.  The Captain wasn’t going to shoot her!

 “Patterson Reactor at 95%.  Launch available,” the computer chimed in.  The Mercenary hit a button, and a side screen flipped alive showing the blast door behind her.  The door was actually beginning to melt away and she could see through it glimpsing the deep blue of the military Cavs huddled behind.  No more time to waste, time to punch it and get the hell gone.

The Merc placed her left hand on the yoke, and then began to throttle up.  The craft bucked a bit, but didn’t move.  The brakes were holding.  The information she had been given told her that the craft needed to spin up before taking the ramp.  The screen showed the throttle spiral meter showing 50% and rising.  Just a little more…

The blast door finally gave way in an explosion of sparks and flying metal slag.  The military cavs came pouring into the bay taking up defensive positions.  They wheeled towards the front trying to block the craft as they were under the strictest of orders to not damage the plane.  But it was too late, the Patterson Drive Extensions began to glow a deep purple, and then as the brakes on the craft released, they shot out a large purple spiral of energy that blew an unlucky Cav off of its feet and into the rear wall.  In a shower of purple light spiraling aft, The Praetorian MK III shot up the launch tube like a bullet from a gun and out into the morning sky leaving the military Cavs staring up after it.