Now
A potential solution was presented a day later when Salamander and Adahn approached Cal in his small prefab office. The two power armor-clad Threnosh barely had room to stand side-by-side in front of Cal’s tiny desk. Salamander dwarfed Adahn. The latter’s power armor was slim and sleek compared to former.
“I have some concerns and questions.” Cal brought up the proposal with a gesture. He had highlighted the sections that had caught his eye. “Why can’t we turn them on wirelessly once we get the power back on?”
“After complete shutdown automated defense systems require initialization from the central command console,” Adahn said.
“And from the information PC3 handed over concerning the night that Orchestral Meridian fell, as little as there was, we know that the defensive systems did not reengage after the spire’s appearance temporarily shutdown every system in the city. Very suspicious,” Cal said.
“That is the reason why I am concerned that the codes we have will not work after we turn the energy generators back on,” Salamander said. “It is fortuitous that Adahn believes they will be able to bypass the systems.”
“My trueskin has the ability to interface with systems and will allow me to manipulate them. Given time.”
“That’s why you’re on this task. I figured your technopathic-adjacent abilities would be good for hacking.”
“I do not understand your words, Designation: Honor,” Adahn said stiffly.
“Basically, I’m talking about your ability to mess with technology and such.”
“You will come to understand Honor in time,” Salamander said.
“Acknowledged.”
Cal stifled a laugh.
“We have the location of the auxiliary energy source to the section of the city that our initial incursion site is located within. Along with the automated defense subsystem core,” Salamander said. “I believe Adahn is capable of initializing both systems.”
“Use the city’s own defenses to help us reclaim it one section at a time?” Cal mused. “I like it. Except I have one concern… how do we know that the defenses are still functional after all this time?”
“Probability supports the defensive system still being operational. Since it was the only system that did not reinitialize as is standard automatic procedure with the rest of the city’s systems, this suggests that there was direct action to keep it down. This purpose was achieved, therefore it is unlikely that further action to damage the defenses was necessary.” Adahn said.
“I think I get what you’re saying. Shut down the defenses, objective achieved. No reason to mess with it anymore. This, of course, raises another troubling concern,” Cal said. “You’re suggesting that there was a level of intelligence to the city’s fall than simply being overrun by monsters.”
“With the nature of those monsters now revealed the probability of that has risen.” Salamander didn’t miss a beat.
“It certainly does. We can’t approach this task just like clearing spawn points. We have to start planning as though we are up against intelligent opponents. The odd behavior of the Corrupted Threnosh was just the tip of the iceberg. Which means that if we’ve identified the automated defense system as a potential asset. Then so have our potential enemies.”
“We have an advantage in that we know exactly where the key systems we need to access are located,” Adahn said.
There was a brief flicker of displeasure on Salamander’s face.
“True, but so does the enemy. Which means…” Cal nodded at Adahn to urge them to continue.
“Ambush. I apologize for my mistake.”
“Not necessary. Learn for the future.” Cal waved it away. “I know you’ve already got a plan, Salamander.”
“Correct,” Salamander said with an almost imperceptible tilt of their head. “Honor, you will clear the path to the target site and hold the location. The team, including Adahn, will follow in your wake. Adahn will then reinitialize the system. We take the energy source first. We will hold it with the majority of the team combined with our automated turrets and combat drones, while you take Adahn and the remainder of the team to perform the same task with the automated defense system.”
“Are we sure that the city’s defenses will be enough to help us take and hold the section?”
“According to current projections utilizing data from our encounter with the corrupted,” Salamander said.
They weren’t comfortable with referring to the monsters as Threnosh. Cal made a note to amend how he referred to them in future conversations.
“Well… Orchestral Meridian had nearly a million inhabitants when it fell. Only a few thousand escaped. Even if tens of thousands died we might still be looking at several hundred thousand corrupted.”
“We do not know yet if the corrupted are the Threnosh of Orchestral Meridian,” Salamander said.
“Hopefully we’ll get that answer soon, once the Greater Archives gets back to us on the genetic signature from the one I captured.”
“If we get the fabrication facility near our incursion point operational then we will be able to replenish ammunition and create more automated turrets and drones,” Adahn said.
“It’s still a pretty risky play. We’re counting on the systems being functional. Then we are counting on being able to control the defensive systems so that they don’t turn on us.”
“I am confident that I will be able to make sure that it only targets our enemies,” Adahn said.
“Good, cause everything hinges on you.” Cal liked the confidence Adahn was radiating. “I’ll leave planning the specifics of the operation to you,” he locked eyes at Salamander. “If this works we’ll need to move quickly on the rest of the city’s sections. Don’t give our enemies a chance to counter, if we truly are facing something intelligent. To that end, I want you to work Subcommander Blue’s soldiers into the op. We need the extra firepower.”
“They will be reluctant to work directly with… us,” Salamander said.
“I’ll speak with them directly. I have this sense that we need to move fast,” Cal said. “It’s just a gut feeling, but I think we’re working against the clock on this Quest… er Task, for you guys.”
“Your inner organs have proved correct on many past occasions,” Salamander said. “I will make haste.”
----------------------------------------
Communicator Dreylox 7193 oversaw the command console at the temporary base camp. Holographic projections from the viewpoint of every individual on the operation were displayed in an orderly fashion in front of them. Under standard procedure this would’ve meant that they had total information control, which they would’ve filtered to the subcommanders in the field. Honor didn’t operate along established guidelines.
For one, the outworlder took an active role in tasks even though he held overall command. And secondly, a lowly communicator was never left to oversee an entire operation’s complement without command level individuals directing them.
The communicator was outwardly stoic, but inside they were hoping that they wouldn’t actually have to do anything beyond relaying messages in the event that direct communication in the field was disrupted. The entire situation was not in line with the Threnosh ways.
They watched in silence and trepidation, again, something that was unfamiliar, as Honor walked slowly through a narrow street. A glance at the overhead tactical projection showed the red dots that represented the corrupted were moving away from the white dot that represented Honor.
“Honor. Be advised, hostiles are moving away from your position.” Salamander’s voice was crisp and clear over the entire team channel.
“Figured something like that might happen,” Honor said. “Let me try something.”
Honor’s projection showed him suddenly stop in the middle of the street.
Several seconds passed, then a minute.
The red dots abruptly reversed their directions. They were headed directly for Honor.
Communicator Dreylox 7193 was about to blurt out a warning when Honor burst into action.
The view in his projection was a blur. It was impossible to follow. The only hint to what happened were the sounds of violence. Heavy thuds and wet, squelching sounds accompanied by breathing, snarling, yelping, then finally silence.
“Alright. That should get me their aggro,” Honor said.
“Acknowledged. Multiple hostiles now converging on your location,” Salamander said. “We are proceeding according to plan.”
Communicator Dreylox 7193 checked the overhead. The red dots of the corrupted that they had tagged in the section were indeed moving with frightening speed towards Honor. The outworlder had increased his own pace. He was running just fast enough to stay within sight of the corrupted.
The communicator was stunned. Things had happened so fast. Was combat like this all the time?
Combat was indeed fast and violent, at least that was what Cal endeavored to inflict on the monsters. He had learned that long, drawn out fights usually meant he was in serious jeopardy of dying. He could count the incidents on one hand and as far as he was concerned that was too many. His goal was to avoid repeating the mistakes of the past.
The Corrupted Threnosh were fast. They would’ve run down the fastest human sprinters back on Earth. Cal deliberately kept his pace just a little bit faster. At the same time he reached out with his telepathy to send out a general ‘come get me’ impulse in a wide area around him.
The narrow street broadened into a wide intersection. From what Cal remembered the cross street was something of a major artery that led to the main residential area of the particular district. A right turn led to said area, while a left turn led to the location of the energy station, which was his destination.
He cut a tight turn and was met by a mass of corrupted. It caught him off guard, which was doubly troublesome. He didn’t pick them up with his telepathy, neither did the surveillance drones flying overhead.
No time to worry about it. He only had a split-second to react.
He sent out a wave of telekinetic force that spanned across the entire street. It plowed into the corrupted like a train.
Cal’s path was clear and he ran right through without slowing, leaving scores of dead and dying corrupted. It was a drop in the bucket. There were plenty more of them chasing after him and converging from what seemed like all directions.
He hoped that they were all chasing him. That there weren’t any large groups mysteriously unaccounted for, like the one he just turned into road pizza. Otherwise his T-Men might have some trouble.
“Where did that group come from?” Salamander barked into the comms. “I saw nothing on my display. Command, is there an equipment malfunction.”
“Apologies subleader, there was no indication of their presence on any of our instruments. Diagnostic query is not indicating any problems. All drones, cameras and scanners are indicating operational status.” Communicator Dreylox 7193’s voice was agitated.
“Reassess our route to the energy station. Then do the same for the route to the security station.”
“Acknowledged.”
Salamander switched the channel to a private setting. “Honor, do you receive?”
“Yup. Don’t know what to tell you, but that group surprised me too. I had no idea they were there and… that is not a good thing.”
“Do we abort?”
“I’ll let you make that call.”
“We proceed.” Salamander didn’t hesitate.
“I figured you’d say that. I’m about ready to start thinning out the herd. It’ll slow me down, so estimate I’ll reach the target site in around fifteen minutes.”
“Acknowledged. We will proceed shortly.” Salamander switched back to the open channel. “Command, status on route reassessment?”
“Data indicates the routes are currently clear,” Communicator Dreylox 7193 said.
Salamander led the formation. The rest of their team came next. The more vulnerable members in the center, surrounded by the more durable. A handful of automated turrets on tracked wheels followed them, while a mixed squad of standard soldiers came next. PJ15 brought up the rear. Air cover was provided by a few combat drones directly controlled by the drone operators at the temporary base camp.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Salamander moved the column at a quick pace. They wanted to get to the first target site and secure it as soon as possible. Smoke drifted from their draconic helmet’s maw. They had the flame ready to spew at a moment’s notice. Recent, unexplained developments had them on edge.
There was an itch in their throat that they associated with their fiery breath. This didn’t make sense to the analytical part of their mind. The flames came from their helmet. There was no direct connection to their actual mouth even if the helmet mimicked their physical movements. Fortunately, Salamander had no problem disregarding such an impossibility.
The column followed in Honor’s wake, which was full of bloody and broken bodies.
Salamander directed Brightstrike to eliminate the ones that still lived. Their hard light weapons wasted no ammunition.
Despite Salamander’s apprehension they didn’t encounter any live corrupted and the tracking continuously showed that they were clear. Until it didn’t.
As they neared the same intersection that held a surprise for Cal. A large number of red dots suddenly appeared on the overhead tactical map back at base camp.
“Alert, large contingent of hostiles approaching from your right.” Communicator Dreylox 7193’s voice chimed in Salamander’s ear.
“I am not seeing any thing on my end.” Salamander’s frown was hidden by their helmet. “I want a visual. Get a drone there.”
One of the drones soared up over the corner building on the whine of its anti-gravity generator.
The visual it returned had Salamander running for the intersection.
“Continue to the target site. PJ15 take the lead. Maul with me.”
Salamander’s voice was steady. Devoid of emotion. It was time for them to release their flame.
They came around the corner and breathed a gout of flame across the street. They swept from one end to the other and engulfed the front ranks of charging corrupted in a torrent of flesh-melting fire. Skin blackened and charred, while eyes burst and liquefied. The very air in the monster’s lungs were consumed to fuel the flames that scorched them inside and out.
The intensity of the flame forced Salamander to stop. The drain on their power armor’s energy and ignitable fuel was immense. They needed a moment to recharge.
Maul provided that moment.
Their heavy power armor bristled with weaponry. Projectiles, explosive rounds and micro grenades tore into the next rank of corrupted. None made it past the charred remains of the first rank.
Nearly a hundred dead in seconds, yet there were more coming down the street.
“Honor, we have engaged the enemy. Numbers are higher than anticipated.” Salamander switched to a private channel. They were a redoubtable fighter. They weren’t prideful like Primal, nor were they reckless like Shira. “Please advise?”
----------------------------------------
The entrance to the facility that contained the energy source for the city section was within view, just a few hundred meters down the street. It was so close, yet the team couldn’t reach it.
There were over a hundred corrupted in the way. They had appeared as if out of nowhere shortly after Honor had flown off to aid Salamander and Maul push through to the second objective.
The corrupted had streamed out of the adjacent buildings. They weren’t detected by the multiple surveillance measures that the team had focused intensely on their surrounding area. Honor had failed to detect them with the unknown method that he utilized to somehow track hostiles out of his natural sensory organs’ range.
“Squad forward. Commence fire,” Subcommander Tioga Blue 635’s voice was flat. “T-Men will wait to engage until hostiles close to fifty meters.”
Projectile fire from the mixed squad of eight baseline infantry soldiers and four heavy soldiers, plus the subcommander, filled the air in between the opposing forces.
“Team, you may fire at will,” Telatrine said as they hefted their minigun to add to the barrage. Unlike the heavy power armors their power armor granted them sufficient strength to wield it in their hands. They didn’t need a special full-body frame and shoulder mount.
Telatrine felt a measure of annoyance at the subcommander. Each member of the team carried a standard projectile weapon of Threnosh make as back up to the specialized abilities of their unique power armors. It was tactically unsound in this situation to sideline them out of some misguided effort to maintain segregation between the normal Threnosh and the so-called defectives.
The subcommander didn’t remark or react to the team stepping up to join the firing line.
“Fifty meter mark in five seconds,” Subcommander Tioga Blue 635 said without looking at Telatrine.
“PJ15, Brightstrike, with me.” Telatrine’s minigun landed on the street with a loud clang, audible over the sound of projectile fire. They pulled their chainsword from the metal scabbard at their side. The teeth spun to life with roar. “Unseen, if you see an opening I want you to get into the facility and scout. We need forewarning of any further ambushes. Myriad, provide shielding for the rest. The rest of you, pick your shots and don’t hit us in the back.”
The subcommander’s countdown hit zero and the trio of Threnosh charged into the oncoming corrupted. They heard the whistling of projectiles as zipped by them.
PJ15 was the tip of the spear. Grey tendrils lashed out from their back and swept aside corrupted like stalks of wheat. Each hand transformed into a long tentacle with a spade-like tip that clubbed and crushed with each powerful swing. Toothed suction cup’s on the underside of the tentacles rasped flesh at the merest touch.
Brightstrike held two hard light weapons that shined with a radiant, yellow light. One in each hand. A long spear that pierced corrupted flesh like a plasma cutter through a gelatinous nutrient cube and a long-handled ax that had an impossibly large double-bladed head, which sheared through corrupted as if they were grass. They were quick. They waded into battle without fear as they always did. Corrupted claws that made it past their blades were rebuffed by the strategically located automatic barrier projectors all over the surface of their power armor. Bright light flashed where claws struck the reactive barriers and kept the blows from landing.
Telatrine had a rougher go of it. They were the picture of brute force. Their chainsaw carved through flesh, while their thick armor plating absorbed attacks. They had the unique distinction of wearing two sets of armor. Their unique power armor beneath a set of unpowered armor similar to what Honor wore. Threnosh science was unable to explain how their power armor physically grew with them. Honor’s regiment of lifting heavy objects repeatedly, running, jumping and climbing over the past year had seen tremendous physical gains, as the outworlder had called them. Both Telatrine’s body and power armor had grown more muscular, stronger. The latter to a level higher than the standard heavy soldier.
This strength level gave Telatrine a noticeable edge over the individual corrupted. Unfortunately, there was a lot.
They swarmed Telatrine. The corrupted were slowly, but surely tearing through the unpowered armor. Telatrine was uncertain at how well their power armor would fare.
“Myriad, I need you to target my location.” Telatrine grit their teeth as they bisected one corrupted with their chainsword, while barely holding off another with a grip around its throat.
“I shall clear the hostiles with a ball of fire.”
Telatrine didn’t like the eagerness in Winding Myriad’s voice.
“Belay that. Use your lighting. I am insulated.” At least they should’ve been. They were uncertain with the damage they had already taken.
There was a second of silence on the comms before Winding Myriad spoke. “Acknowledged.”
Did Telatrine detect a hint of disappointment? They believed so.
Winding Myriad dropped the translucent force wall and pointed their staff directly at Telatrine. A bolt of startlingly bright lighting arced across the distance and struck a corrupted that had latched onto Telatrine’s back.
The electrical attack spread out to the corrupted surrounding Telatrine. Their cries of pain were cut off as their bodies were fried.
Telatrine smelled the unpleasant odor of charred flesh. Which was a good sign that their insulation had indeed been intact.
They had wanted some space and now they had plenty.
As one, the corrupted broke away from the battle and fled in multiple directions.
“Secure the entrance. Rodinian set up traps. Subcommander, I leave the disposition of the automated turrets to your discretion,” Telatrine said.
The subcommander returned a curt nod.
A single word message appeared on Telatrine’s face-plate. It was from Unseen and it simply read, Clear.
“PJ15, Brightstrike, Adahn, with me. Unseen has scouted our route to the target. Myriad and Drega, remain here to bolster the defense.”
The chainsword in Telatrine’s hand hummed and vibrated. As if it was eager for more. It mirrored their own thoughts. Fortunately, the corrupted were proving to be numerous and compliant opponents.
----------------------------------------
Then
Cal left his family while they went to the spire to find out what sort of super powers Veronica possessed. He was ninety-nine percent sure that they were going to be something magnetic along with overall enhanced physical attributes. Just like Remy and Tessa.
He was struck by an idea while he was bored out of his mind standing in a dark intersection facing off with gangbangers the previous night. To pursue it further he needed to go to the Watch headquarters, which was a set of trailers erected in the parking lot of the community center.
He was leery of heading there because he didn’t doubt that the city council would immediately catch wind of his presence and take the opportunity to pester him for all sorts of things.
Perhaps if used his telepathy just a little to cloud their minds. Make his presence there unremarkable, not worth nothing. The moral implications of that were certainly on the negative side. He couldn’t rationalize them away. He’d simply have to ignore them like usual.
The various people he encountered on the walk to the community center didn’t fail to note his passing. There was a general familiarity that everyone in their community had toward him. There were wary looks, mingled with awed ones. He exchanged pleasantries with the ones that he had interacted with on prior occasions. The only common thread was the sense of distance that he couldn’t help but pick up on.
He rued the fact that for all intents and purposes he had become something similar to a local celebrity. Oddly enough, it was for this reason that he actually didn’t mind the brusque and borderline rude nature of his interactions with the Watch leadership.
The patrolling members greeted him with curt nods as he walked directly to the main trailer of their headquarters. While the leadership certainly made no secret of their animosity. None dared to get in his way or try to pull petty power trips. He had long ago disabused them of the notion.
“What do you want Cruces?”
“Good to see you to, Demi.”
The Police Captain and operational leader of the Watch frowned at Cal as she barged out of her office door.
Cal was slightly impressed. She didn’t even give him the chance to ask the receptionist a question.
“I was just wondering where you’ve got Count Chocula hidden away these days.”
Demi frowned down at Cal. She resembled an angry bird of prey with how her tightly pulled back hair emphasized the sharpness of her features. Almost model-like. Although the piercing stare was all eagle.
“What do you want with him?”
Cal could sense the concern that replaced the annoyance she had felt when she had heard his voice.
“Had a thought that he might be able to help with the mauler issue.”
Demi grit her teeth for a moment. “My office. Now.”
Cal raised a brow. He counted to ten before he followed. He shut the door and pulled up a chair across from Demi’s desk without waiting for the invitation. Rudeness went both ways and he was cool with that. One of the unexpected side effects of super powers was that he had stopped caring about how others treated him. Once, he wouldn’t have stood for blatant displays of dominance or disrespect. Now that he had power he simply didn’t care. He recognized the contradiction.
“Explain.”
Demi really wanted to limit her interactions with him. It was like she deliberately minimized the number of words she had to exchanged with him.
“There was a pretty bad scene at an apartment complex. Bodies everywhere. A lot of guts and blood,” Cal said.
“Detective Ordonez is sure that it’s the mauler’s work?”
Cal nodded.
Demi scowled. “We’ve got him set up here.” She scribbled something with sharp strokes of pen on a piece of paper and threw it across her desk toward Cal. “He won’t agree.”
“I’m just asking him to track. No fighting, minimal danger.”
“Doesn’t matter those powers are wasted on that man. If one of my fighters had them…”
“Oh I don’t know. I think we’re lucky that he turned out to be a conflict averse pacifist. I mean, look at the mauler.”
“You think the mauler is similar?”
“Not likely. Too much blood left at the scenes. The mauler is more of a flesh eater than a blood drinker.” Cal blinked. “I hate that those words came out of my mouth.”
“You need to stop this killer. We can’t risk it making its way across the bridge. If—”
A commotion in reception area had Demi jumping out of her chair and drawing her Glock in one motion. That was smooth and fast even to Cal’s enhanced perceptions. A skill?
Cal stood from his chair and went to the door. He was careful to give Demi a clean firing lane. Not that a bullet would do more than sting a bit. He just didn’t want them wasted. Every round their community had was hand crafted by old man Del Campo. He had to respect that.
Cal pushed the door open and was greeted by the receptionist pointing a pistol at a heavily breathing young man. A pair of Watch members burst through the door to the outside a moment later.
“What’s going on?!” Demi’s voice cut through the confusion.
“Sorry, ma’am, he ran right by us. So fast, we didn’t realize what had happened until he was already through the door.”
“Explain yourself.”
“I have a message.” The young man got his breathing under control in a manner that suggested a skill or magic. “For Cal Cruces.”
Demi shot a dark glare at Cal, as if this was all his fault.
“Okay,” Cal said. “What’s the message?”
“From Detective Ordonez. The mauler attacked again last night.” The young man reached into his pocket. “He—”
“Don’t move!” Every member of the watch in the room shouted and leveled their weapons at the young man.
“Christ!” Cal readied his telekinesis to save the young man if any of the trigger fingers got itchy. “Clearly, I’m in no danger. And frankly I’m surprised you care,” he grinned at Demi. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
The young man’s hands were up above his head. His eyes were as wide as saucers.
“Give me the note,” Cal said.
He took the note from the young man’s shaking hands. It contained a few terse words about the attack and an address.
“Well that solves one gang problem,” Cal muttered. “I notice there isn’t a time on here. Does the detective expect me to drop everything and head on over now?”
“I’m supposed to bring you with me.”
Cal shook his head. He telekinetically floated a pen from the receptionist’s desk and proceeded to scribble on the back side of Detective Ordonez’s note. All without lifting a finger. Was he showing off? Absolutely.
“I can’t come with you right now. I’ve got plans. Tell Detective Ordonez that I’ll be at the location say, an hour after dark.”
“She’ll be… upset.”
Cal shrugged. “Tell her I’ve got an idea that might get us on the mauler’s trail. Also I have a lunch date to keep.”
“Also she told me not to return without you or ‘it’d be my ass’… her exact words.”
“Tough choice. I guess you could wait around here for a while. Just tell her I made you do it. Can she really argue with that?”
The young man’s shoulder slumped. “I guess so.”
Cal glanced at Demi.
“Fine… he can wait here. No wandering around.”
“Great! I like it when things are resolved in a manner that works out for everyone. Plus no one got shot!”
Cal walked out of the trailer without looking back. He had a few hours to kill before lunch, so he decided to look in on the sword training class in the community center. Maybe even participate. He had been so busy that in over the year since the Swordswoman had started teaching the class, he had only taken a handful of classes. Barely enough to get the footwork basics and a couple of basic strikes.