Cavalier's Gambit -CH 22-

“Lord Hesh, I’ve got the other squad on the frequency. They’re on forty-two, C,” said “Three” from his group. They’d been designated by Wayne as their commo. He was constantly searching through frequencies as well as listening into the ones they were using on this mission.

Natalie was number Four.

“Great, thank you,” Wayne said, and then flipped over to the frequency. “This is Wayne Hesh, squad thirteen.”

“This is Britha Caldon,” growled a voice on the frequency. “Squad two. You’re our recon and scout?”

“Britha?” Wayne repeated. “Britha? Wait, do you know Horrace?”

“Huh… wha-oh. Oh! Wayne!” said the female voice on the other end of the line. Followed by a chuckle. “Good to see ya, Noober. Though I guess you’re not a Noober anymore, are ya?”

“Guess not. Glad you got off Faesin. Everyone alright? I haven’t gotten a response from Jenny since then,” Wayne asked.

“Yeah, everyone’s fine. We’ve just been busy. I think Jenny’s phone got crushed though. I kind of kicked an armor plate off a Walker and it landed on her bag,” Britha mumbled. “Anyway. Good to see ya, you ready?

“I need you to go pick up a few objectives visually for me. I’ve got a squad of six Dreadnoughts and we’re pretty damn slow and obvious. If those targets aren’t standing, it’d be better if I didn’t waste my time and expose us.”

“Not a problem. I’ve gotcha. I already had a vague idea of what you’d need from my handlers before the mission started,” Wayne answered. “They’re slightly off course from our own targets, but not anything that’d prevent us from getting the job done.

“What’s your comms situation? You able to receive at distance?”

“Yeah, we’re good. Just post to this frequency. You might not be able to hear us in return depending on your gear, but we’ll get your transmission.”

“Got it. Alright. Thirteen out,” Wayne stated and fell off the frequency.

“How dare she be so rude to you, Lord Hesh,” hissed Natalie.

“I mean, she knew me before I was a Cavalier. It’s not like I introduced myself as that either,” countered Wayne with a warm laugh. “It’s fine, Nat. It’s fine. I’d prefer people treated me normally anyway.

“Alright. One, Two. I want you to take on point A-One and A-Two. The coordinates are in your mission computer if you don’t have displays for it. Three, stay with Four and myself.

“One, you’re acting as the lead for your sub-mission.”

“Yes, Lord Hesh,” said the man immediately.

The two separated from the group as they continued to move toward their first target.

Wayne watched the two leave for a moment through his cockpit before focusing on his own task.

As he started to turn his eyes away, he caught something that made him turn back toward the two.

Both pilots were running Walkers that weren’t owned by them.

One was owned by the ground forces of the MDF.

The other was owned by the TCI.

Ah… that’s why they were hand-picked.

They wanted to make sure at least one of their own people was on the mission.

Turning his Walker to the side, Wayne got a partial view of Three.

Their Walker was actually owned by them.

Okay. So… just one each.

That’s not horrible. I think I’d want one of my own people on a mission like this.

“Keep scanning as we go. Don’t get lazy. This has been so quiet that I’m just getting wound up from it,” muttered Wayne.

He was constantly running his eyes along the horizon, then every now and then doing a full rotation.

Just to make sure no white boxes happened to pop up for him.

Time slid by.

Wayne and his squad kept moving.

During that trip he made sure to check the systems for his weapons.

Yuna was active and loaded with armor-piercing rounds. Tink had attached a medium-sized laser cannon on the left arm, as well as a small short-range missile launcher.

It was all enough for short to medium distance fights, which was ideal.

She’d also included a Combat Walker’s short sword for him. Which honestly was probably a waste of tonnage, but it might work to save ammo for some objectives.

For a Scout Walker, like Patchwork, it was more akin to a full-sized combat sword.

Eventually, One reported in as to the first recon target and relayed that the targets, a series of space-based carrier ships, were on the ground. Along with all the defenses that protected them, of course.

Wayne was somewhat glad that it was a target he wasn’t responsible for.

In fact, their first target was about as soft a target as one could wish for.

A hotel of all things.

Why the Confed and MDF wanted a hotel flattened he had no idea. That was the target though.

The hotel, a convention center in the middle of the small town, and all attached facilities.

All of which, for some reason, was in the middle of nowhere.

The only thing there other than the hotel and the convention center was what had been called the “estate” and an airport. Though that was a mile or so away from their primary objective.

There was nothing else in the area.

Both of which were to be left standing, if possible, but were valid targets if the enemy garrisoned them.

Off to the left, Wayne spotted several white squares show up. They all read that they were devices belonging to a township and were cellular relay towers.

We’re close enough to be spotted if we’re not careful, but enough of a distance away that it’d be hard to really pick us up with the eye.

“Lord Hesh I’ve got… ah—” came the voice of Three. They sounded concerned.

“Report,” ordered Wayne.

“Getting some really strange comms. Really strange comms. I’ve got entire bands filled with enemy chatter. It’s all in a foreign language and I don’t speak a lick of it, but it’s there,” reported Three.

“Really?” Wayne muttered and then thought on that as they continued on. “Any chance you’re getting enough of it to get a triangulation on the signal strength using our antennas?

“Could you dial into One and Two to use theirs too?”

“I don’t think so,” answered Three.

Wayne flipped over to the frequency for Britha.

“Thirteen to Two,” he said.

“Two, go,” Britha replied.

“Got a whole lot of chatter over here we’re picking up. You got anything that can hit a signal and triangulate it? I’ve got my position, my forward scout’s checking your next objective, and you,” offered up Wayne.

He knew fuck-all about triangulation, other than it took three points like a “triangle” to do it.

“Yeah. Pass me the frequency band,” Britha asked.

Wayne was about to ask Three for it when he heard the man respond, rattling it off to her.

“Got it. One second,” asked Britha.

Wayne kept his team moving toward their objective. There was no reason to do otherwise yet.

“Alright. I’ve got a general direction for you,” Britha reported. “Best I can do given the distance. You’re looking due south-east from your current position with that signal.

“I agree with you by the way. That’s a lot of chatter. None of my people speak Dashi.”

“Yeah, no one here either. Alright. Great, thanks,” Wayne said and cleared the frequency.

He’d already looked at his compass as soon as Britha relayed it to him.

It was generally the direction they were going, but to the side.

Looking at his display, then to the positions of his people, and where they should be on the maps, he had the signal pinpointed as coming from the airport.

Maybe… we’ve got special people coming in or going out?

Hm.

It’s not part of the original objective, but it wouldn’t hurt anything to enter the area from the same side as the airport. Make our approach from that side.

It’d waste a few minutes, but that’s it.

The end result actually wouldn’t change at all. Just the approach.

It’s worth checking if only to see if it’s a target we want.

“Shift it. I want to hit the airport first, then push out to the objective after,” Wayne said and began rotating his Walker to change course. “Three, I need you to get me a fucking line to whatever fucking god is up in the sky. Can you do that?”

“I don’t think so. I’ll try,” Three promised.

“Understood, Lord Hesh,” Natalie stated with fervor.

“One, Two, we’re altering our trajectory. Be prepared to shift as well,” ordered Wayne then realized he could ask for something here. “If either of you can get me a line to god, I’ll take it. I don’t care how you do it and I’ll forget how you did it.”

He meant it, too. There was the distinct possibility that One or Two had the ability to reach out to Miriam or Wendy. That they could and likely would send up reports, if possible, to the intelligence officer that put them there.

“Roger,” said One in a nervous tone.

***

Given the barren landscape, Wayne had been nervous about their approach on the airfield.

At least he had been, until they got there.

A massive forest surrounded it and there were also several rather decent-sized hills.

As stupid as it was, Wayne had everyone get down in a crawl, and crept up to the airport. Like that, moving through trees and tall grass.

Laying there, against a hill, in a Walker, Wayne felt ridiculous.

Ridiculous, but his squad had managed to get into position.

“Lord Hesh, I’ve got… I’ve got that connection you wanted,” Two stated nervously.

“Two, you’re on my present list. Who’ve I got?” Wayne asked.

“Hello, Major,” Captain Chilton said in a voice that spoke volumes to him. Polite, prim, proper, and without a hint of her usual personality she displayed.

“Hello Witty and Attractive Captain Wendy. Good to hear your voice. I didn’t get to flirt you up before I left. Next time we should make time for a goodbye,” Wayne muttered. “Now… I need that pretty head of yours. Can you give me two minutes?”

There was a choked breath, followed by a long sigh.

“Yes… Wayne. I’m happy to help. Happy to be here. I’ll… you said you’ll forget how I’m here, too. I’m appreciative of that.

“And just so it’s clear, I’m also disappointed we didn’t get to chat. I was… socializing so we can make better accommodation in the future. There were officers from other branches that showed up that we can leverage later,” Wendy drawled, her voice taking on her more normal cadence.

“Yeah, I’ll forget. Don’t you worry. On top of that, I don’t even blame you. I’d have done the same. Anyway. I got a god damned full on horny teen group chat thirsty and looking for single moms in their area.

“You got anyone who speaks horrible waste of a human person? I mean, Dashi?”

“Dashi, yes. I speak it. Or at least, well enough, given my need case to learn it,” Wendy confirmed, he could hear the grin in her tone.

Ha, in other words, well enough to interview prisoners.

Got it.

That makes almost too much sense, considering she’s an intelligence agent after all.

Should start calling her our PsyOps girlfriend number two.

“Well damn, you’re always a surprise, though I suppose it shouldn’t be. Alright, my witty and attractive Wendy. Let’s get you patched into this and see what they’re saying,” Wayne ordered.

There was a pause and then Three put the frequency into the one he was on with Wendy.

Wayne got an earful of Dashi talking that made no sense to him at all. A rambling and stuttering tongue that he didn’t enjoy listening to.

“It’s… they have a bunch of VIPs. They’re all coming back from a meeting that was held at the presidential estate,” Wendy explained hesitantly. “A lot of VIPs. That’s a shame. They’ll be taking off momentarily once a ship arrives for them. It’s just a lot of coordination going on to discuss… prizes. Prizes and gifts.

“And it’s a shame because I don’t have any assets nearby that could take this. Nor does Miriam. I know without asking, as we both reviewed what we had available together before the mission started.”

Wayne thought about that, then looked at the airport.

Not far off he could see the runway, as well as where most of the VIPs probably were. A terminal building with a great many cars parked out in front of it.

“Hold on one second, Miss Witty and Attractive,” Wayne mumbled, and then flipped his comms over to Britha’s.

“Thirteen to Two. You there? You busy?” he asked.

“Huh? Eh. We’re about to level this fucking tarmac. Why?” Britha asked.

“I’ve got a fucking runway filled with VIPs. They’re all clustered up in one area right now like a barrel of fish waiting for a shotgun. You got any heavy ass artillery pieces that you big Walker pilots keep pretending are rifles over there?” he asked.

If she was rolling Dreadnoughts, there was the distinct possibility he was right.

Massive “kinetic rifles” that were more similar to artillery pieces that could fire rounds for a considerable distance.

“I mean, yeah. But I don’t have coords to try and drop a shell that far.

“Even if I did, I don’t have a firing computer to make that happen. It’d be blind!” Britha answered with a rough tone. “By the time we dialed that in with you walking it to them, they’d be gone or in cover. That and give away what we’re about to do.”

Wayne hesitated in that moment, realizing that if he did this, he’d probably give people more to question about him. More to poke around into his life about.

Maybe discover that he’s been throwing down AIs faster than a toddler could stuff their face with candy.

“Well, you’re in luck. I’m pretty sure I can get you to plant a shell right on top of this terminal if you do what I tell you. I’ve got some onboard VI programs that should give me a good window on this, and I’ll correct it manually.

“What’s your grid position?”

“Lord Hesh, Captain Chilton wants to know what you’re doing,” Three reported.

“The one firing is at Six hundred and five point two, and negative one hundred and ninety-five point nine,” relayed Britha. “Exactly.”

Wayne mentally pushed at the AI in his implant.

“Type of kinetic weapon?” he asked, knowing that the AI would need that info. “If you have the serial number, that’s even better.”

“It’s an LT Number six. Serial is four-three-X-Five-Two,” Britha answered.

Immediately a firing plot appeared with a red blip on top of the terminal.

A list of instructions for the weapon was displayed for Wayne on how to make such a shot, given the weapon.

He assumed it was likely his original AI was feeding information to the second. It seemed to be tied into databases with weapons information.

It’d likely have the testing information for that weapon.

“Wayne?” Wendy asked. “What’re you doing?”

“Hold on, Witty and Attractive Captain. I’m gonna drop a shell on these VIPs,” Wayne advised. “Ok, Britha. I need whoever’s taking the shot to elevate the barrel to forty-nine degrees. Then they need to get their heading to exactly… one hundred and twenty-three. Have them plug all that in manually to the controls to get it right.”

“Alright,” Britha murmured. “Done.”

“Any change in their position?”

“No, they corrected to make sure it was the same. Barrel is exactly at that coordinate.”

“Then fire,” Wayne said. “Reload immediately, correct to one hundred and twenty-four and fire again. Feel free to fire as much as you like on that.”

“Rounds away,” Britha warned. “Moving on our objective.”

“I didn’t authorize this,” Wendy said with increasing anxiety.

“Captain Chilton, I don’t need your authorization. I was given mission discretion for myself. Just as Britha was,” Wayne said firmly. “This was an unknown variable and I’m working to strike a target of opportunity.”

“Yes… you’re right but… this feels different,” Wendy complained.

“I appreciate that. I’m taking responsibility. We found VIPs, we’re going to smoke some—”

There was a boom, and the terminal went up in an explosion.

A few seconds later, the next shot struck where the terminal turned into a hangar. Blowing that up in just as spectacular a way.

Several more rounds struck the terminal and hangar. Demolishing it and spraying things out in every direction.

“Holy fucking hell. It’s vaporized,” One whispered.

A second later and the comms chatter from the Dashi blew out as everyone began screaming and talking. Wayne quickly dialed it out.

“Three, Wendy, handle those comms. Tell me if there’s anything I need to know. Britha, thanks for the artillery support. Those were dead on,” Wayne advised.

“Got it. Moving on our objective. Good hunting,” she offered.

“Good hunting to you to—”

Wayne’s voice died and the words got stuck in his teeth.

Soldiers boiled out of the terminal in every direction. Then a number of Scout Walkers and Combat Walkers came out. There were at least four of them, though one was missing an arm.

Then a Dreadnought shambled out of the Hangar. It was bare of weapons and only had a minimum amount of armor on it.

His AI told him it was a Dreadnought, but it was also obvious. It was easily two to three times the size of Patchwork.

As if it’d been in active maintenance when the attack came.

“Really kicked the beehive, Lord Hesh,” Natalie advised.

Several warning systems in Wayne’s Walker lit up and began flashing. Then buzzing loudly.

“I’ve got a firm lock-on!” warned One.

A second after the warning was given, missiles flew away from one of the Walkers.

“Up!” Wayne declared. “Up, return fire. That Dreadnought isn’t armed yet! Focus on the Scouts and Combat Walkers!”

Wayne, Natalie, and One, all got up.

His FCS system pinged the closest Combat Walker, Wayne leveled Yuna, and fired.

Well shit. Not exactly what I wanted to happen but here we are.