"Whatever it takes, whatever it costs me, no matter what, I'll do what I must for you."
"But you might get killed."
"I know." - Dambree Limberton, Year Zero, First Invasion of Hesstla, from "Bloody Ears" documentary
Dambree opened her eyes and realized she had somehow gotten to her feet, her brush blade in her hand, wobbling slightly as she held the blade in guard position and her hand was on her magac pistol, trying to tug it free despite the fact that safety was engaged on the locking holster.
"Yer a pistol," the Devil said. She was leaning against the door, a cigarette in her mouth, completely naked.
"Where are we?" Dambree slurred, still trying to remember how and why she was in a hexagonal chamber. A brown skinned woman was raising her head from where she was sitting on the floor, knees in front of her face, arms around her legs. Beads and superconductor wiring clicked as she shook her head.
"That was unpleasant," Menhit said as she slowly got up. She moved over and checked on the careworn male Terran who looked exhausted even in his sleep. "Petey's still out."
"He'll be fine," the Devil said. She looked at Dambree. "That's hard to explain. We're in mat-trans station Alpha-Sigma. We're less than a mile from our goal. It's dark out, the fusion generators above us in fuel reclamation mode."
Dambree nodded, then went down on one knee, her hands around the hilt of the brush blade as she began reciting a short prayer for strength and courage.
"I don't remember it hurting that bad," the male Terran, Pete AKA Marco, said softly. He looked around. "Auxiliary mat-trans Alpha-Sigma. It's only supposed to be used for emergency services."
The Devil nodded, smiling. "Because of that, it has an emergency access port, which is how Howdy-Doody and Tweedle-Dee managed to get in to it the first time. Howdy-Doody's probably every cybersecurity specialists worst nightmare but a South Korean would run roughshod over him in about ninety seconds in an are-tee-ess then mock him with repeating kek."
Pete nodded, wiping the blood from under his nose. "I understood everything but the last part."
The Devil shrugged. "I'm old, so my references are old. Remind me to tell you about the time back in Dickety-Two me and some friends tied some onions to our belt, not the white ones, you couldn't get those because of the war, so we tied yellow ones on our belt to chase the Kaiser because he stole the word twenty so we had to say dickety," she said the last part with a mocking grin.
"If you say so," Pete said. He stood up then leaned against the wall.
"I hate you all so much," the Devil said, the grin never leaving her face.
Dambree finished her prayer and stood up, ignoring the complaints of pain filled muscles and joints. She was wearing her 'work clothes' with a suit of firm-shell armor underneath that Enraged Phillip, the First Biological Apostle, had given her himself.
She had taken three days, beneath the watchful eyes of Mother Joan, inscribing runes of penance and wrath into the armor with a knife.
The Devil looked them all over. "I'd rather wait till I was sure all of you were recovered, but despite the time distortions we don't have that much time," she said. She tapped the door next to her with one bare heel. "We go through this door, we make straight for Emergency Aux-Con," she looked at Peter. "I get you there, I'm not sure how long we'll have."
"What's the dilation compared to where Sam-UL is?" Pete asked.
Pulling up her hood, Dambree took her mask off her belt and put it on, feeling it seal to the edge of the hood. The mask flickered and came back on and the world looked right again.
A terrible signing emptiness filled her again as she hefted the carefully sharpened brush blade.
"Sixty to one. It's six to one where Team One is at between Sam and them and ten to one between us and Team One. The other teams have their own issues, so I'm doing in dilation order," the Devil said. She turned and faced the door. "Cams say the room's empty, but let's find out," The Devil exhaled smoke and turned the handle on the door.
The door clacked and the room filled with mist. Dambree's mask struggled, trying to filter it out the same way it filtered out fog and snow.
"It's clear," Dambree heard the Devil say.
The mist flowed out of the chamber and into the room beyond. Dambree walked silently after the Devil, following in her footsteps. She glanced around, taking everything in.
The computer consoles looked impossibly old to Dambree's untrained eyes. Big, bulky, with LCD monitors that you usually only saw in educational tri-vee shows. The consoles were heavily armored on the sides facing the hexagonal chamber that was in the middle of the room and would provide excellent cover for any attacker who exited the chamber.
Dambree nodded, looking around. The temperature was only slightly above freezing and she could see no plumes of breath, meaning either nobody was there or they were armored or otherwise had breath control.
"Follow," the Devil said.
Dambree was silent as they moved through the facility. It was abandoned, it felt to Dambree like some of the older cabins around the lake. Not the ones from the camping resort, but old ones that had been abandoned and half collapsed.
She could remember hiding in one for several days while the nanite medical injection did its work to heal up the spear wound through her stomach. The way the rain pattered on the rotted wood, the way the moss smelled, the way she could see the edge of the lake and the way the water sparkled.
She also remembered how, after she had healed up from the miraculous Terran medical injection, she had gone on to kill two dozen Red Tips who thought that she was no longer guarding her young siblings.
They stopped long enough for the Devil and Pete to get protective suits. Dambree watched the hallway, alert for any danger.
"I thought you said Sam-UL was pushing at the mat trans system," Peter said when they existed the facility to see robots standing around.
"There's just over two thousand on them on this layers alone," the Devil said. "He had to pick and choose, but there's a reason he didn't go for this one."
"Why?" Menhit asked, looking around.
"Be silent and listen," The Devil snapped.
Dambree cocked her head, closing her eyes.
She could hear wind, the faint buzzing of power transmission lines, odd sounds she had no name or reference to, the sounds of industry far in the distance and...
Screams. Screaming. Enraged bellowing.
"Screaming Ones," Menhit said.
The Devil nodded. "And ghosts," she shrugged. "Not that they bother me. Someone told me they can cause physical harm to people though and I have no reason to disbelieve them."
"We need to make haste," Menhit said, looking around.
"I thought you can handle phasic shades," the Devil said, walking at a brisk clip.
"I can," Menhit said.
"Good, that's why I brought you," the Devil said. "That fails, I got Psycho Bunny Killer here for up close and personal," the Devil looked at Dambree. "You worry about Peter and only Peter. You protect him even if Menhit and I are getting our guts ripped out."
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"I know," Dambree said, her voice empty.
The Devil made a tossing motion and a blue line suddenly appeared in Dambree's vision.
"There's the route. It'll update automatically," the Devil said. "You get him there, you guard him. That's all you do."
"I know," Dambree said.
"Good," the Devil turned away and Dambree moved closer to Pete, putting him on her left so that he wouldn't be in the way if she had to start swinging the brush blade.
Dambree cocked her head when sounds reached her. Flat banging sounds. Projectile weapons from the sound of it, but not like any Dambree had ever heard.
"Damn," the Devil said. "Sam pushed some Screaming Ones in between us and our destination," the Devil pointed at a building. "We'll cut through there while momma's boys draw them off."
"Who?" Menhit asked. "You said nothing about momma's boys."
"You didn't ask," the Devil shot back. She put her hand on the security pad and the door beeped and opened. "Get in."
Dambree stepped in front of Pete, moving first into the door.
"Who are momma's boys?" Mehnit asked.
"Call them Calgon," the Devil smiled.
"I do not understand," Menhit said.
Dambree knew that nobody was supposed to. The Devil spoke in riddles, half truths, and while she never outright lied she lied through omission of details.
"Not my problem," the Devil said, leading the small group into the darkness.
The group stopped next to a set of armaglass doors that overlooked a parking lot.
Dambree stared at the scene beyond the doors.
Flickering white shapes screamed and attacked each other, attacked vehicles, beat their heads on the pavement. Two female Terrans were screaming and slamming their faces against the armaglass, blood running from their nose, eyes, mouth, and the pressure cuts on their foreheads.
"There are phasic shades beyond this door," Menhit said.
"Yeah. They can't really hurt me," the Devil shrugged. She looked at Menhit. "This is why I brought you."
Menhit nodded and closed her eyes. She pressed her hands together took a deep breath...
and began to sing.
"We have always walked this path," Menhit sang. A glow started to emit from her.
Dambree put her body in between the glow and Pete.
"It's all right," Pete said, putting his hand on Dambree's shoulder. "It's why she's called 'the Singer', little one."
Dambree felt doubtful as Menhit kept singing, the glow getting stronger.
"From out birth we knew the light," Menhit sang.
"Good enough to protect you three," the Devil said, pressing the handplate next to the door. It flashed red twice, then beeped and went green.
The doors opened.
The two flickering white semi-opaque Terran females lunged up, passed through the Devil without paused, and hit the strong gold glow.
They dissolved.
"I was raised knowing I'd balance faith and light," Menhit kept singing as she moved forward.
Dambree closed her eyes, recognizing the song as one that was sung as a choir hymn at the orphanage.
That shivering cold emptiness inside of her warmed slightly.
A large Terran scrambled out from behind one of the cars, screaming, reaching for the Devil.
Dambree did not leave Pete's side, taking his arm with her left hand even as she kept him moving forward.
The Devil gave a strange sweeping kick that hit the side of the large Terran male with a sound that reminded Dambree of her little brother breaking a handful of dry sticks to make tinder. The scream cut off as the man bent wrong at the side and flew away from the Devil.
"Don't touch me," the Devil snarled, spitting on the ground.
A woman lunged out from a doorway at one point, her hands reaching for Pete, stumbling through the puddle of golden light that did not illuminate the surroundings.
Dambree swung the brush blade, the heavy blade slamming into the female's forehead with enough power that the woman's skull shattered. Dambree gave a practiced twist, freeing the blade as she pulled Pete out of the way and took a half step skip forward.
The body hit the 'ground' as Dambree kept pulling Pete forward.
The sound of gunfire was getting more intense and twice Dambree heard explosions, both times coming from what kept feeling was 'north', along with the faint sounds of screaming in rage.
The Devil touched between her eyes. "We're almost there, pop your wires, get out of there. You'll reassemble at Point Charlie," she said to nobody that Dambree could detect.
The next door was a heavy security door that the Devil stopped at. She waved Pete forward and Dambree moved up to stand in front of the door as the Devil put her hand on Pete's arm.
"Your codes are loaded. I had to wait till the last second, I don't want Howdy-Doody to see your codes logging on," the Devil said.
Pete nodded, putting his hand on the plate. A keypad popped out and Pete quickly punched in a code, whispering to himself quickly.
Dambree could hear the words, they rhymed, but made no real sense.
The door slid open and Dambree tensed.
The lights came on, revealing a hallway. A blue line swept through the hallway, turning at a side corridor halfway down.
"You're on your own, I have to get Team Three moving," the Devil said. She smiled and dissolved away, her smile being the last thing to vanish.
Menhit stepped inside, still singing, as Dambree led the way into the facility.
Finally they reached the goal. Dambree stood in front of the door as Pete opened it.
Inside was a small room. A suit clad dessicated corpse was on the floor. Two more were in chairs in front of monitors and consoles. A robot with a shattered head and brain casing sat in one of the chairs, a standard magac pistol behind the chair on the floor.
Dambree moved up, grabbed the corpses, and pulled them out of the chairs. The robot frame was heavy, but she was still able to drag it away.
Pete sat down, putting his palm on one of the scanners. The screens flickered, runic script that Dambree couldn't understand flowing by as Pete stared at it. He picked up a flexible wire of memory cable, unspooling it.
Dambree saw a port open up on the side of Pete's head, revealing four jack sockets.
She ignored that, stalking through the room even as Menhit closed the main door, stopped singing, and moved over to a chair. Dambree wedged chairs under the door handles of three doors and pushed a desk/work station in front of the last.
Menhit lit her pipe, leaning back and looking at Pete, who was busy typing.
"I'm in," Pete said as Dambree moved over to lean against the wall. Dambree watched as the telltales on his temple lit up. "Uploading the patch now."
"Our mission is not yet done. Sam-UL may try to attack us to prevent us from stopping his plans further on," Menhit said, looking at Dambree and puffing at her pipe.
Dambree just nodded. "I know."
-------------
Vuxten ducked and rolled, the high-vee rounds screaming over his head even as he managed to get a heavy planter between the enemy and himself. He could hear the high-vee AM rounds smacking into the stone of the planter.
--two o clock-- 471 said.
Vuxten looked in time to see a squad of androids break cover, sprinting for the dubious cover of a burning tank. Vuxten tapped the trigger, leading them slightly, and watched as the heavy SMG rounds blew craters in their armor and the android flesh beneath.
Six made a break for it.
Six ended up sprawled on the ground.
--popping smoke-- 471 warned right before the clamshell opened slightly and a pea-sized smoke grenade dropped out, hissing and spewing out thick white smoke.
Vuxten waited, ducked down, as he checked his ammo level. He still had 80% of his ammo and the regenerating ammunition hopper was only at 22% heat and 9% slush.
"Vux, fifteen seconds, break according to guidelines," Trucker's voice sounded in his ears.
"Roger," Vuxten said.
The fight had been raging nearly two hours. The first hour Peel and Trucker were synching up with the combat pods, gathering up data, and launching drones, with Daxin, Vuten, and Casey holding off the android forces.
Twice Casey had fired the big gun and hit buildings with megaton level blasts that made the ground ring like a gong.
The countdown reached zero and Vuxten broke cover from the smoke, sprinting across the tarmac. He could see Daxin on his left, laying down heavy fire from the stubber directly into where Vuxten was running, but Vuxten didn't slow down.
He'd seen in the last hour that Daxin matched Vuxten's memories of the big Terran.
The stubber in Daxin's hand went silent for half a second as Daxin traversed fire across the same area Vuxten was running across. The smartlink and Daxin's reflexes combined to ensure there was no lead downrange near Vuxten closer than a meter.
Once the Telkan was past, Daxin resumed firing even as he walked to the right. Part of his ached to rush forward, take the fight to the androids up close and personal. He knew from experience they didn't do too well in close quarters combat.
It felt like he was playing their game.
But Daxin was a professional. He knew that strategically, Trucker was right, even if Daxin himself would have ordered different tactics.
Vuxten reached the next cover just in time to get a fire order. Tabbing up a piece of stimgum he watched the countdown as he positioned himself just right. When it hit zero he lifted up, his head and shoulders above the burning armored personnel carrier.
His rocket launcher and grenade launcher ripple fired their full payloads and he ducked back down before the first one hit, before the return fire could hit his armor.
--hits-- 471 one said. There was a rumble that made the ground shiver. --oooh looks like that one hurt--
Vuxten just nodded as another order came in.
Part of him wished he had more autonomy, but he also knew from school and experience that as long as things were at the point he was basically a weapon delivery system that things were going well.
When it all came down to snap decisions made by each soldier is when the fecal matter impacted the rotary oscillator.
His onboard nanoforge reloaded the magazines for the rocket launcher and variable payload grenades began to load the launchers magazine.
Vuxten chewed his gum and waited for the next suggestion, keeping an eye at the corner of the street intersection he could see, his finger on the trigger of the stubber.
He wasn't in a hurry.
Plans always went to shit.
That's why they were called the enemy.
---------
Kalki opened his face shield, grimacing at the taste in his mouth, even as his hand fumbled at the pouch at his waist. His beloved nanny goat was struggling to her feet, bleating in complaint.
"You guys are tough, I'll give you that," The Detainee said.
"Curse you, witch," Kalki managed to growl. He got the lemon out of his waist pouch, twisted in half, and handed half to his goat as he took a bite himself to get the awful taste out of his mouth.
"We don't have long," the Detainee admonished Kalki, the Dying Joan, and Herod. She looked at Herod, who looked exhausted. "Polarize your face shield."
Herod nodded, the face shield going black.
"You know your part, fuzz face?" the Detainee asked.
"Doki!" the heavily armored Neko-Marine said, giving a short, choppy nod.
"All right, let's go cause some havoc," the Detainee smiled.