“No.” Alexei’s flat refusal of his plan irked Donovan.
After all, they both agreed that the Knight Protector had to be dealt with. Killing her would just speed things up. They were far away from the watchful eye of the Council.
“Listen well, Chief. Killing Mistress von Eisstahl is not something we can sweep under the rug, so to speak. It has to be an accident and I doubt she would just walk in the forge on her own.” The Commodore’s whizzing voice grated on Donovan’s nerves.
It was the same argument over and over again. Neverok would not allow him to act against Helix and now he was tying his hands in dealing with the Council’s dog. Perhaps, it would be better if the Commodore was the first one to suffer a fatal accident. Donovan entertained the thought for a moment, before pushing back from where it had formed. He needed an ally, not another enemy.
“Do tell, what is your great plan then?” The Chief could not hide the sarcasm from his voice.
“We wait and bide our time.” Alexei stopped and looked at him. “Do you honestly think, Oliver is going to be paraded before a court?”
“Well…” Neverok cut him off before he could answer.
“Please, Donovan. You are smarter than this. The man has near every member of the Council in his pocket. The only reason they would have him dragged back to Katovar is that they needed to shut the Knight Protector up and to remind dear old Tharks that he should pretend they are the ones in charge, for the sake of the masses.”
The Commodore continued his walk towards his quarters, ignoring the burning glare Donovan was giving him. But the Chief had to admit, the old man did have a good point. Oliver was many things, but most of all he was a political mastermind. He would have made arrangements for something like this happening. And if Donovan had not allowed his emotions to bind him, he would have realised it sooner.
“Your big plan is to just sit and wait for someone else to sort our mess?” The Chief sighed and shook his head. “How long do you think that will take, Alexei? The trip alone is over six months and by the time a mock trial is arranged and concluded, it will be what? A year? Two?”
“You need to keep your humour in check for only six months.” The old Commodore turned to smile at him. “But we will not be idle till then. No, my friend. We will sort out the herd.”
“What do you mean?” Donovan could not help but eye the man with suspicion.
“Although this man Helix and Alexandra von Eisstahl are out of our reach, for the time being, their supporters are not.” Donovan knew he had the same twisted smile on his face as the one he saw on Alexei, as soon as the words registered in his mind.
“The question now, Chief Rex, is which one of them is the most disposable.”
“Second Officer Kurtz.” Finally, Donovan could get some of the revenge he so desperately craved.
----------------------------------------
“Remember, no witnesses,” Virgil spoke over the feed as their shuttle entered its designated landing bay.
“I have to say, hunting our own kind feels a bit strange.” Dorian chuckled and checked his rifle was loaded.
“I’ll pretend I have not heard you say that, Discharge.” Puppeteer gave the offender a long glare. “You all should remember where we are and mind your bloody manners, is that clear?”
Lucas waited for his turn to give the confirmation signal. Although he would never voice it, he had to agree with Dorian. Gen 2 and Gen 3 might be of different stock, but they were Demons nonetheless. The two squads were supposed to work together, just like the Shayatin and Daeva were composed of three squads, they too had to be a total of three. But there was the defect to account for, that had changed everything. That was why they had to dispose of the Gen 2s.
“Don’t worry, little brother, I’ll watch your back.” Carthage placed her hand on his shoulder from the adjacent seat.
“What the hell are talking about Nia?” He looked at her, knowing that there was a broad smile behind her helmet from the way she had cocked her head to one side. “You are four seconds older than me and what is with that brother stuff?”
“She’s been watching the entertainment feed in her free time.” Athena leaned from the seat across, checking the valve on her siege flamer. “Her fascination will pass in a day or two.”
“Are you three finished?” Virgil walked between them and gave Helix a small datapad. “I need your opinion on this.”
Lucas scanned the information on the display, making sense of the different and conflicting data readings. There was no mistaking it, the area they were heading for was flooded with a number of toxins. Their physiology should be able to cope with what would pass thought the filtration units in their helmets and he had enough supplies to counter most of the negative effects, however, he still advised caution as he gave the pad back to his commander.
“Helmets on and switch to internal circulation. It will be a chore to fix them afterwards, but better requisition spare ones, than to have to replace your lungs after a month.” Helix pronounced over the squad feed.
“You trying to avoid your duty, Lucas?” Rage’s voice sounded in his ear.
“What the hell is your problem John?” Ezekiel jumped from his seat from the back of the raw.
“He always says stuff like that! We were designed with the idea of being wounded. There are a dozen replacements for each of our organs back at Osiris. Instead of accepting it, this coward is shackling us with caution.” That earned Rage a glare from every other squad member.
Lucas took a deep breath, reminding himself that John was unstable. The priests had shared their plans to have the man returned to the vat and re-constructed. Someone had messed up when arranging the neuro-paths in John’s brain and Helix vowed that person would pay dearly for this mistake, once they returned back home for evaluation.
“You can’t be seriously thinking that Rage.” Preacher was not ready to let the insult go. “It will take two, maybe three, hours at best to fix the filtration system. And it will take twenty hours for him to cut you open, scoop out the mush you’ve made of your insides and replace them with the new ones.”
“That’s enough!” Virgil yelled. “Rage, you will keep radio silence until the end of the mission. That’s a direct order.” Puppeteer then turned to their comms operator. “And you Ezekiel, do not engage him, understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Both Rage and Preacher saluted before returning to their seats.
As first deployments went, they were off to a poor start. Lucas understood they were all on edge and were, for the most part, just letting out some steam. In the end, they were not going to face some heretical rebels or tainted aliens, they were going against people who were trained and made the same way as them. And to make matters worse, they were going to fight inside the damned Imperial Place on Terra itself, while escorting the first concubine, Marion Nettle.
The cursed psi-which would serve both as their guide and handler, so that mobile assault team Demon did not wonder into places where it was not supposed to. And the honour of playing babysitter fell to Helix and Carthage. He issued a squad wide bio-check to be displayed on the screen integrated on the inside of his helmet.
< DEMON 01 PUPPETEER – H: 167; BP: 145/102; BCM: 75% >
< DEMON 02 PREACHER – H: 163; BP: 147/105; BCM: 74% >
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
< DEMON 03 LUCIFER – H: 120; BP: 133/87; BCM 40% >
< DEMON 04 CARTHAGE – H: 169; BP: 150/109; BCM 78% >
< DEMON 05 DISCHARGE – H: 164; BP: 145/104; BCM: 75% >
< DEMON 06 RAGE – H: 175; BP: 155/113; BCM: 80% >
< DEMON 07 HORNET – H: 165; BP: 145/103; BCM: 76% >
< DEMON 08 HELIX – H: 188**; BP: 166/120**; BCM: 95%** >
< KURTZ, ZOË – H: 45**; BP: 188/98**; BCM: 0%** >
“Athena, you are yet to enter pre-combat state. Is there a problem?” He spoke over the direct feed with the woman seating in front of him.
“What? No. I’m just offering a prayer of forgiveness to His Holiness since we are about to intrude in this sacred place.” Lucifer answered and finished adjusting the settings of her flamer.
“Make sure you make it a short one. Once the door opens, I will have to report you.” It was all the time he could give her for that strange obsession of hers.
“Thank you, Lucas.” She nodded at him and leaned back in her seat.
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Helix saw Nia push the psi-witch out of the door just as the slugs turned the frame into splinters. One of the projectiles hit her in the shoulder, most likely breaking her collarbone, and spun her around. Trusting his instincts, Lucas let out a burst of suppressive fire through the opening, hoping that the Gen 2 inside would seek cover.
“I thought you could sense them, witch!” He barked and the wide-eyed woman crouched next to the wall.
Quickly he pulled Carthage to the side of the door, before a new volley of shots detonated where she had fallen. She gave him a nod and released the mag-lock of the TR3 cluster-grenade pistol attached to her hip. With an injured arm, she could not wield the chain-gun, making her plan obvious. Nia would force the enemy to abandon his position, while Lucas stormed the room, just like they had trained.
Without looking, Carthage released the deadly payload of her pistol through the doorway. When he heard the first boom of the two-kilogram explosive fracturing, Helix jumped into the room. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, but it was enough to see the figure of his opponent hurl itself away from the improvised barricade. A second later, the pile of furniture and wall-plates was consumed by the conflagration of the incendiary micro bombs. He wanted to curse Nia for failing to mention that she had switched her ammunition, but there were more pressing issues.
Aiming was out of the question, so Helix opted for firing in the general direction of the Gen 2 Demon. He was rewarded by a short scream of pain as the plasma rounds from his rifle hit his target. Lucas crashed into the burning barricade, the flames inflicting first degree burns to his skin through his armour. The pain was a simple irritation, which he bit through as he walked through the fire, his rifle pressed against his shoulder and aimed at the downed enemy.
Under the yellow glow, Helix had his first glimpse of the thing that was the Gen 2. It was a hideous warning to what could await him, should no cure be found. Its face was grotesque, scales covered its cheeks and two dark fang-like protrusions jutted from its chin. The skin was pale and covered by black veins and what was left from its hair had turned grey. But the worst part were its eyes. They had begun to split, where each orb once stood, now in its place were two additional irises.
But the mutation was not limited to only the thing’s face. Its ribcage had grown, pushing against the boron-nitride plating at its chest. The Gen 2’s left leg had its knee inverted and the shin had split in the middle, revealing bright red strings of flesh, which connected the newly formed bone. The right one could have been similarly deformed; however, Lucas’s shot had melted the limb at the middle of the thigh. There was no mistake, the few extra Xith genes were forcing the rapid mutation of the former Demon. The wound was a bad one, but it shouldn’t be enough to prevent the thing from continuing the fight.
No. Its stomach was a gaping hole. One of his shots from a moment ago had hit the Gen 2 in the gut. If Lucas had waited a couple of minutes, the mutant would have expired. However, they both knew, Demons could not wait or leave anything to chance. Perhaps it was because of this the creature pointed at the emblem painted on its armour plate; two crossed axes with a skull underneath them. The same mark Rage had on his chest.
Lucas had to admit it felt nice to have downed John’s counterpart from the Gen 2s. And despite recognising why the thing had pointed to its emblem, he was not about to help it. Helix had his orders. He shifted his aim towards the abomination’s heart, the least he could do was salvage its cortex implant so that it could be resurrected back at Osiris. Carthage’s pistol boomed before he could pull the trigger and an incendiary bomb was lodged inside its skull. A moment later there was nothing left for Helix to recover.
“What the hell, Nia?!” Lucas snapped at the woman standing in the doorframe.
“I know what you were thinking Lu.” She shook her head. “Remember, man, this is Annihilation Protocol. Nothing must remain.”
“That’s wrong and you know it! They are our kin! The only one we have!” He knew he was holding the gun, but he could not aim it at Carthage.
“They are a mistake!” She snapped at him and pointed at the burning remains. “You’d be the first to put any of us out of our misery should we start to turn!”
They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, but was just short then a minute in reality, before Nia spoke again.
“Besides, I would prefer an untainted back-up than to have the memory of what I’ve become inserted in me when I am resurrected…”
“You don’t know!” Lucas almost dropped his rifle from the shock of the realisation. “Virgil never told you, did he?”
“Tell us what, Lu?” He felt the anger in her voice.
“There is no back-up for Gen 2. Once exorcised, that’s it.” He saw the heavy-weapon specialist tremble.
If Helix had to guess, this had to be why Virgil had not told the others. They all might have been conditioned to obey, but they also shared a bond, absent from normal humans. To condemn their kind to eternal doom was something they would have had a problem with.
“It can’t be true.” Nia whispered. “You can’t know!”
“Nia, I am the guy who has to know. Because at the end of the day, I am the one to keep you all going and the one to prevent this from happening to you.” He pointed at the smouldering remains of the dead Demon. “I’m the one who has to extract the cortex from your head when you die.”
“How can you be so calm about it?” Carthage walked next to him, her helmet facing the dead body.
‘Because I don’t get the option to be resurrected as you do. My cortex is not re-usable. The moment I die, a new me will be created by the priests back home. Because I’ve been shaped in the image of the demon Helix.” Lucas could not look at her right now, for this reason, he walked out of the room.
How ironic it was, that he would one day follow the same fate as the wretched creature he was named after. But that was the point, wasn’t it? Their creators had made them this way so that they could control them, should they ever try to rebel. This was why the Gen 2s lacked that trait, he understood that now. This mutation was not an accident. It was just an experiment, a sick test because there could never be too many Demons.
He looked with disdain at the woman still curled in a ball next to the wall. Miss Nettle was supposed to have detected the dormant psionic energies within the second generation, but she had failed to do so. Or was it just a convenient lie.
No! He was wrong! The girl had collapsed. She was suffering a complete cardiac arrest and total implant failure. Lucas never kept track of her biotic signs. Quickly he pulled them on the screen.
< KURTZ, ZOË – H: 20**; BP: 90/30**; BCM: 0%** >
He had to do something or she would expire…
----------------------------------------
Lucas snapped his eyes open to see the same message flashing in dark red before his eyes. While he was out, he must have pulled the information from the girl's implant. Quickly he jumped to his feet and saw both the security girl and the psi-witch collapsed next to each other.
“Shit!” He cursed as he sprinted the ten meters separating them and slid next to Zoë.
She was pale and had stopped breathing. He had to act fast, but there was little he could do. The energy release from Alexandra von Eisstahl had sped the deterioration of the girl’s already fragile state. At least she had managed to subdue the Knight Protector. Damn her, Zoë had earned his trust. She could have walked away once he was knocked out, but instead, she had stuck with him. There was no way, Lucas would let her just die.
He emptied the contents of his supply bag on the floor and picked up two vials, hoping they would be enough to keep her stable, until he could get her to a proper medical unit. With a steady hand, he injected the first one in her heart and the second inside the port behind her ear.
“Zeti!” Helix contacted the AI through the feed. “Can you lock training simulator 1B?”
“I will need to take control of the relevant sub-…”
“Yes or no!” He barked at the bloody thing.
“Yes. I detect high levels of stress. Is everything all right, Helix.” He could give a damn about the concern in the AI’s voice.
“Miss Kurtz requires immediate medical attention.” Lucas answered after taking a deep breath. “Plot me a route to the nearest active operating theatre. Inform Dr Saiko, he is to report there on the double. Lock the simulator 1B as soon as possible.”
“What of the psi-witch?” Zeti inquired as a map flashed on the display of his helmet.
“Incapacitated. Administrating a second dose of sedative as we speak. As soon as I have moved Miss Kurtz to safety, I will come back for the witch and have her placed inside the active vault.” He took several deep breaths, forcing his implants to keep pumping the combat chem mix in his system.
Dextrously Lucas removed the lung-inflator tool from his belt and pierced Zoë’s diaphragm with his knife. Once the tube-like device was in place, through the incision he had made, it would keep her lungs working for the next twenty minutes. He was running out of time. Quickly he unzipped her jacket and made a secondary incision at the side of her ribs.
This part had to be performed gently and with care to avoid any damage to the patient. At least that was what all his training told him. Well, there was a difference between theory and the reality of actual combat triage. Lucas placed an electro-bandage on the thumb and middle finger of his left hand and slid it under Zoë. With some force, he shoved his wrist through the cut until he could reach her heart. His right one moved under her knees and he lift the unconscious girl in his arm. After a last deep breath, he started in a sprint through the empty corridors of the station.