Against the backdrop of a black sky, waves crashed onto the white sandy shores of the Salvo Archipelago. The trio of islands bustled with activity. Navigation lights from dozens of aircraft could be seen in the night. Despite this, the southern coast of Azure Island remained quiet. Coastal guns silently watched over the endless ocean that stretched before them. Beneath the island, the Pit was as active as the rest of the island.
The subterranean prison complex was not on high alert; rather, the readiness condition had been raised in preparation for a high-risk prisoner transfer. In the sterile, white-painted concrete halls, Periscope, head of research and development, oversaw the transfer of Queen Persephone from her cell.
The intimidating AI observed, his robotic form rigid, yet meticulously scanning every detail around him. Two black-clad guards flanked the cell door, with two more stationed at either end of the cellblock. A team of heavily armed assault troopers stood nearby as a strange machine rolled into the cell. It moved on a set of caterpillar tracks, using articulating arms to carry an upright gurney. A large pneumatic rod was mounted just behind where the prisoner’s head would rest. Several techs and frames accompanied the device.
A human researcher stood next to Periscope. "I question the wisdom of this experiment," she said.
"Your concern is noted," Periscope responded dismissively.
A flicker of frustration crossed the researcher’s face. "Vampires are most powerful at night."
"That is the point of this experiment," the AI replied once more.
"What if she escapes?"
"I calculate a 1.1% chance of a successful escape. Well worth the risk for the data we stand to acquire."
The researcher crossed her arms. "What if she damages Helsing? A vampire has never been directly exposed to the light before."
"An unfounded concern. All prior data suggests she will not survive the experiment." He said coldly.
When the auto-gurney exited the room, the vampire queen was tightly restrained. Metal clamps secured her neck, arms, legs, and waist. A muzzle covered her mouth, and a blindfold was placed over her eyes. If she attempted to break free while in transit, the silver metallic rod would pierce her skull and kill her.
"Load her onto the transport," Periscope ordered. The retinue of guards and techs escorted their prisoner to the surface.
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Azure Island
The prisoner convoy moved along Azure’s main highway. The armored transport was a veritable vault on wheels, a steel box several inches thick riding on the back of a flatbed truck with an equally armored cab. It was completely automated, having no driver. Sentry machine guns watched from mounts fore and aft. Inside, two guards, Periscope and the researcher rode with the prisoner. Leading the convoy was an eight-wheeled armored fighting vehicle, with three armored 4x4s and a personnel carrier bringing up the rear.
"Verify experiment parameters," Periscope told his subordinate. He stood at the back of the cell, opposite the vampire, staring directly at her.
The researcher consulted her datapad. "The subject will be exposed to the Helsing portal. At first with protection, then with progressively fewer layers. The goal is to examine how vampire physiology reacts to heavenly light. Practical: The sun is a chemical reaction. It doesn’t weaken vampires, but its absence strengthens them for reasons unknown. Theoretical: The Helsing portal will have profound weakening effects on vampire physiology."
Periscope nodded. The AI could never be said to be in a good mood, but the pursuit of research seemed to inspire a flicker of excitement in his cold lines of code.
The AFV commander's voice came over the speaker. "Rerouting. Central reports bridge collapse between Azure and Sal—correction—bridge has collapsed between Stingray and Salvo." The tanker sounded unsure.
Periscope acknowledged apprehensively
"Correction. Both bridges between Salvo, Azure, and Stingray are down. Request orders," the commander asked.
Periscope noticed the barest hint of a smile curling onto Persephone’s face.
"Stop the convoy," he said urgently. The line of vehicles came to a grinding halt. "Confirm cause of bridge collapse," he asked him.
The commander's voice was now tense. "Central confirms an explosion at the Stingray causeway. Both spans are in the water. Command has ordered a halt to all traffic. DEFCON has been raised to 1."
From within the armored carrier, they could hear the island’s emergency sirens begin to blare a shrill tone. Every radio came to life with an urgent but clear voice as an emergency broadcast was sent out. "To arms! To arms! We are under attack. This is not a drill. Set DEFCON 1 conditions at all stations. Friendly forces are engaged at Stingray. Enemy numbers unknown. Set DEFCON 1 at all stations. To arms! To arms!"
"Turn us around!" Persicope ordered with urgency.
An explosion erupted to the rear of the convoy.
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Stingray Causeway
Milo barely had time to react. A massive explosion rocked the bridge, causing the concrete to visibly flex beneath their truck. There were shouts from the vehicles surrounding them.
"What in God's name was that!" Schaft exclaimed.
Milo looked in the rearview to see smoke rising from beneath the bridge. Then he saw the concrete flattop start curling downward as supports gave way. Chunks of concrete fell first, followed by trucks and equipment falling into the water below. "Hold on!" he said while putting the vehicle in gear. He honked the horn and accelerated into the oncoming lanes.
Several other members of the traffic jam did the same. A disorganized mix of trucks and transports fled into the oncoming lanes, racing against eachother to escape the falling bridge. Some Rifle's simply abandoned their vehicles and ran. Behind them, large sections of bridge collapsed into the water, sending up large waves.
The driver of a prime mover, loaded with a main battle tank on a flatbed, fought valiantly to save his rig. The 8x8 wheels spun furiously, but the sheer weight was too much to overcome the slippery surface. Panic etched on his face, he wrestled with the steering wheel, desperately seeking traction, but it was a losing battle. Just as he leapt from the cab, the vehicle slipped into the Pacific.
A full two sections out of the eight that made up the bridge that crossed from the island to Stingray had collapsed. They were the two directly in the middle. Once it was clear, they were not falling, Milo stopped, the air-brakes hissed venomously. Alpha didn't need prompting. They all got out to examine the damage. Tetsu was the only one not present on the bridge, as he was ordered ahead with the other frames to help load cargo onto the Havoc. There were other soldiers who came as well to examine the scene and offer help if necessary. They shined flashlights into the water below.
The edge of the fallen section had broken off cleanly, leaving only a sheer drop. The water here was shallow, but still deep enough to swallow entire vehicles. Some piles of rubble and more massive machines broached the surface. Wounded Rifles tread water or clung to what little debris they could to stay afloat.
Milo turn to Kurt, "Get some rope out of the truck! We gotta get these guys out!" Kurt nodded and rushed back to their vehicle with haste. Several other Rifles on the bridge had the same idea. The crew of a tow truck threw their chains over the side, dangling them from the rig. The spotlight on top of their tow lift was of great help.
"What the hell could have caused that?" Milo wondered aloud. Tora offered an answer, "I am no, ah, architect. But it does not look like a structural failure."
Kurt returned with rope tied to the hitch of their truck. They threw it over the side towards the nearest swimmer, a woman in mechanic coveralls. "Grab on!" Kurt called to her. She was wounded and struggled to swim over. Just as she reached out to grab the length, she went under.
"Shit!" Milo began shedding his shirt, intent on jumping in. Tora held out an arm to stop him. "Look!" he said.
Another man swimming for his life suddenly disappeared beneath the waves. He had obviously been pulled under by something. Then another. "Sharks?" Kurt said in disbelief.
"There ain't no sharks on Salvo." Milo answered, concern and confusion mixing.
"There!" Somebody called out. They shined a light on the opposite expanse. Several figures were crawling up the pillar, skeletal clawed hands dug into the concrete. They carried obsidian black blades. More of them kept emerging from the water, like ants assaulting a wayward foot.
Milo looked down. There were more on their side. Fear crept up Milo's spine. "Contact! Contact! Hostiles in the water!" There was a commotion as Rifles scrambled for their gear.
None of them were in armor or had their weapons and equipment ready. Alpha drew their sidearms and aimed over the side. They began onloading into the oncoming skeletons. Several others did the same, including non-combatant logistics personnel who weren't supposed to ever see combat. A shooting frenzy, akin to a no-rules range day, seized everyone with a gun on the bridge. Skeletons took rounds, some falling back down into water with heads or limbs shot off. But the swarm kept coming. They were barnacle covered with seaweed and bio-fouling covering their ghoulish frames.
Chief Rifle Laramie, Alpha's platoon sergeant, ran up behind them to take control of the chaos. He shouted at the top of his lungs, "Everyone fall back! Get off the bridge!"
As much as Milo would have liked to stay, he realized their position was untenable. There could be more bombs on the other pillars or worse, other skeletons climbing up. As other Rifles remanned their vehicles and evacuated the bridge, Milo chose to be their rear guard.
"Alpha, stand and fight!" He ordered. Kurt and Tora acknowledged by continuing to pop off shots, laser focused on causing as many enemy casualties as possible. Someone handed them HR-15s. The bigger rifle, with explosive rounds, blew bones to bits. Alpha inched backwards, steadily giving up ground. Eventually the skeletons reached the top of the bridge, where they began to run at the Rifles with swords raised. At that point, Milo ordered a withdrawal. There were still some abandoned vehicles, but they were the only living souls left. They got back in their truck and sped off across the intact expanse. Skeletons by the dozen swarmed in their wake.
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Azure Island
A massive mushroom cloud lit up the sky as the trailing armored 4x4 was thrown skyward, coming down on its roof. The charred wreck unrecognizable. "Contact rear!"
"Contact front!" came two simultaneous reports. The commander of the AFV watched lanky individuals emerge from the shrubbery on either side of the road. They were quickly identified as inhuman. They wore suicide vests heavily laden with explosives. For security reasons, a distance of 50 yards was cleared on either side of the road. "Activate anti-swarming measures!"
Forty Millimeter grenade canisters popped from launchers on the four corners of the hull. Instead of smoke or flares, they shot a screen of burning thermite around the vehicle. Bone melted and vests detonated prematurely. Explosions rocked the armored vehicle. The crew quickly followed up the defensive measure by firing bee-hive rounds into the treeline. Tungsten balls cut down swaths of trees and undergrowth.
The rear 4x4s opened up with their roof mounted machineguns as more hostiles appeared around them.
"This is not possible." Periscope calculated. For hostiles to have infiltrated this far inland, they would have to have gotten past acoustics sensors on the seabed around Salvo; tripwires, sentries and optics on the beach and then somehow avoided the guard patrols that constantly patrolled the entire island. The implications of an enemy so stealthy were deeply troubling. Several processes ran at once within his labyrinthine mainframe. For now, he shelved the ones where he was passively designing new sensors with the excess processing power in favor of handling the current situation.
He told the commander of the AFV leading the convoy, "Stay on the highway. Loop around the Northern edge. Do not stop." He did not receive a reply. The convoy remained at a standstill. Periscope then attempted to raise the trailing APC and 4x4s to only receive the same chilling silence.
Like the frames of his own design, Periscope did not have any in-built wireless capability in order to harden himself against hacking attempts. But he could close a mechanical switch inside of him that allowed him to activate a tight-beam connection to nearby Rifles. None of the prison guards wore cameras as a security measure. So instead he rewrote code on the fly, which was easy because he had developed the unique language that all Vanguard gear was coded in in the first place, and accessed the prison transports sensors.
The AFV sat idling with its guns silent. Wisps of smoke rose menacingly from the scorched Earth around it. Its hatches had been torn open from the outside. He panned around to the trailing APC and 4x4s.
The AI surveyed his surroundings with cold precision, his expansive processors scanned the scene with an eerie calm. The crews of the vehicles were lifeless, their bodies slumped grotesquely in their seats. Turret gunners hung limply from their hatches. Periscope’s sensors detected the stillness, each corpse frozen in the posture of sudden death. His attention shifted to the APC nearby. It had been carrying combat frames, but his attempts to activate them were met with silence. The frames were destroyed, useless hulks of metal. The fact that they were neutralized so swiftly and without warning only deepened the mystery.
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There was no sign of more skeletons or any visible force that could have overwhelmed such a heavily armed convoy. Yet, the carnage was complete, calculated.
The prison transport rocked violently as something slammed into the rear door with a force that rattled the entire vehicle. The guards stiffened, weapons drawn, their eyes flicking between Periscope and the door. The AI regarded them with the same icy indifference as he did everything else, but there was a faint glint of anticipation in his motionlessness form. Servos tightened.
The researcher, standing near Persephone, nervously gripped the switch for the instant kill device.
Periscope and the guards waited.
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Stingray Facility
Sky-Captain Victoria Kilmer nursed a cup of coffee as the long night dragged on. She had just finished an exchange with the Leader-Commander, in which she promised she'd be over Los Angeles within 12 hours with a full load of Rifles and her airwing. From the enclosed bridge wing, she could see out over the drydock basin and her ship. There was a flurry of activity below, illuminated by spotlights, as elevators were loaded with equipment and then raised up to the ship. She was quite thankful for the yard workers who worked tirelessly and efficiently to get her underway, as only hours earlier Cry Havoc's hull had been crisscrossed with scaffolding and temporary support systems. That all had been cleared, and her crew was making preparations to get airborne. Havoc's bow still sported an unsightly scar where she had been repaired after being struck by a Russian ASM. The unpainted section stuck out from the rest of her immaculately maintained hull.
Foxhounds came in low and dropped off cargo directly onto her top deck. This wasn't an ideal way to take on stores, especially ammunition, but the situation necessitated it. Eighteen-inch shells were loaded directly into the turrets and then down an ordnance elevator into her magazines.
Just as she was about to take a sip from her mug, there was a commotion from the edge of the basin. Equipment that had been waiting on the bridge came spilling frantically into the loading area. Teams of Rifles rushed to and fro.
Then, she saw them—the horde of undead in their wake, running along the bridge toward Havoc's berth. Kilmer walked urgently, but regally, back into the main bridge space. Her OOD, a haggard junior officer who had been up longer than she had, didn't acknowledge the captain as he should have. Instead, he slammed his hand down on the transmission button for the ship-wide announcing circuit. She didn't mind, as she had trained her officers and airmen that practicality outweighed ceremony.
"All hands, prepare to repel boarders. This is not a drill. Stingray is under attack by numerous hostile infantry of unknown origin. Repel boarders," he said urgently.
None of the crew waited for the announcement to finish. They knew the appropriate actions by heart due to their intense drilling. All external hatches were immediately shut, PDS mounts were brought online and loaded. Small arms were distributed and guards took station anywhere that a hostile invader might be able to board the ship.
Kilmer prompted her OOD, "Status of underway, Lieutenant." she ordered him to report as she took her station by her bridge chair. She set the coffee mug in a holder and checked that her own sidearm was in condition 1 with a round in the chamber.
"Ma'am, we're halfway through reactor startup procedure. Reactors 1 is in a full-power lineup, reactor 2 is at 50% criticality and will be at full steam in 4 hours, reactor 3 is still cold. We can belay the normal reactor startup and do a crash start of reactor 3 and be ready to fly in 2 hours."
She acknowledged, "Understood. Redirect what power reactor 1 is providing to main turbines and begin spooling." That would slow down other preparations, but Havoc's engines were power hungry and she needed to prioritize getting off the ground.
"Yes, ma'am."
"And load as much of the foot sloggers on as you can. We must reinforce the Iron Heart."
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With the exception of a few vehicles, the bridge cleared out quickly, and a defensive line was set up at a bottleneck at the end. Barrels and industrial equipment made a hastily erected barricade across the four-lane expanse. Rifles of the 1st and 4th manned it with machine guns and grenade launchers, forming ad hoc squads to create a thick wall of guns. Stingray's own defenses, from their high towers, angled in on the tide of bone and blade that flowed down the bridge towards them.
Chief Scrimps organized the chaos and ensured there were no gaps in the line. Alpha squad stood at the center. Their retreat down the bridge had given them time to prepare and put their full RAT suits on. They were dwarfed by the assault troopers of the 4th Armored on either side of them. The hulking soldiers wore layered composite armor plating and carried machine guns fed by backpacks. Some had aluminum alloy riot shields that they interlocked and stuck the barrels of automatic shotguns through the gaps.
They could all feel the vibration as the tidal wave of terror ran down the bridge in eerie silence. The skeletons made no battle cry. There was only the rattling of bones and a palpable murderous intent.
Chief Scrimps called out their engagement ranges: "Two-five-zero yards for grenades, no closer! Two-zero-zero yards for machine guns! Fifty yards for shotguns! Strafe right to left! Stand by to engage!"
Just as the horde crossed the invisible 250-yard line, the grenade launchers coughed 40mm high-explosive packages. The herd was immediately thinned, with bones shattering under the concussive blasts. Entire skeletons were thrown over the side into the sea. But they showed no fear nor hesitation and kept coming at a run. At 200 yards, the grenade launchers were joined by the rabid staccato of multiple machine guns.
Milo, Schaft, and Tora didn't flinch at the oncoming tidal wave. Their fingers hovered above the triggers of their HR-15s, ready to pour disciplined fire onto the enemy.
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Kilmer watched through the camera on one of Havoc's point-defense mounts as the skeletons attempted to assail the formation defending Stingray. The ad hoc fighting unit and their hastily cobbled together wall were making good of themselves as the opposing force of calcium and horror was prevented from getting any closer to the facility through sheer force of violence. Not only was Cry Havoc in jeopardy, but so was Coup de Grace sitting in the opposite basin. She had no hope of getting airborne as her hull was torn open to repair damage from firing her infinite rail.
Kilmer had taken control of Stingray's defenses and was waiting for the perfect moment to give them the signal to open up. It did not do well for one to blow every resource they had against the enemies initial advance. She waited until the Rifle's at the chokepoint started to falter. Just when the enemy reached the 50 yard line, she ordered the point-defense cannons to open up. They spun their 20mm rotary cannons and spewed destruction from on high. The BRRRRTTT was deafening. They had a heavy impact. Entire waves were torn apart as the dispersion pattern, meant for anti-aircraft or missiles, was perfect for clearing out the closely spaced, sword-wielding, groups of skeletons.
From on high, she felt like a god, reigning destruction on a pitiful enemy. That's when a thought struck her. This couldn't be a serious attack. Salvo Control, the main watch station for the entire archipelago, had only reported one other similar group that had blown the Salvo-Azure bridge. And that group had been small enough for the military police and reserve units to handle. There had been no other contacts across the entire island. Which was suspicious. No sane enemy would attack in such a useless manner. The engineers could have the bridges repaired within days. Stingray was heavily defended and highly defensive in itself. Any enemy with the capability to infiltrate the island's off-shore sensor networks would have to be aware of that. It was illogical to assume otherwise. This was a diversion.
"Officer of the deck, has Control reported any other hostile intrusions?" She asked her junior.
"No, ma'am." he said, then added, "Something doesn't sit right about this. Why would they attack with such insufficient force right at a bottleneck? They had to know our defensive layout to get as far as they have."
"I was thinking the same thing. They must have an ulterior objective."
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Azure Island
Periscope was puzzled by what he saw. Whatever was outside was not registering on thermal or nigh vision sensors. On optics it was nearly invisible against the backdrop of night. Whatever it was, it was big and moved fluidly like a shadow, skirting the blindspots of the transports sentry guns with expert precision; As if it knew exactly the specifications and limitations of the machines.
It threw itself against the rear door once again. This time it clung to the metal structure. The occupants could hear the metal groan.
Persephone spoke, "You cannot stop it. You cannot stop us." she said eerily.
Periscope lowered his gaze and cocked his expressionless sensor pod, giving the impression of a disgusted sneer. He was tempted to activate the kill device then and there. Even if he did not survive the encounter, this lower lifeform would not. It was a secret, deeply guarded within the AI's databanks, that he disdained the limitations of human decision-making and the detriment of emotion. That was why he had counseled the Leader-Commander that their position was untenable and the Black Sun was an insurmountable phenomenon, and that the Vanguard would not likely win the war that he had chosen to wage. But what Periscope disdained even more so, to the point that he himself admitted that he had developed the emotion of hatred, was the vampire. The Leader-Commander and most of the Terra Vanguard itself was strong-willed and principled. The vampires possessed no such virtues. They allowed the weakness of fear and pride to control them and warp them into contemptable undead. He regarded them as less than human, and far inferior to his machine perfection. Even if all of his efforts and the efforts of humanity were futile in the vastness of this galaxy, he would not suffer the presence of such creatures.
He activated his personal weapons systems. His left hand rotated and split apart at the palm, revealing the muzzles of a twin-barrel high-caliber pistol. He held his other hand out, signaling the researcher to stand by the execution switch.
The door groaned and buckled. Individual bolts and welds could be heard braking as the heavy door began to bulge outward, pulled away by whatever impossibly strong creature assailed it. The guards stood ready.
The armored door finally broke free. Jungle air flooded into the compartment as the wreckage was ripped off and thrown aside as if an explosion had caused it to tear free. A writhing pitch-black mass of tentacles greeted the Rifles and AI. It washed over them like a shadow. They opened fire, letting off a single round. The dark mass moved so fast that Periscope's optics couldn't track it. One second it was in front of them; the next, it wasn't. They scanned around, seeing nothing. Everyone tensed, waiting for it to reappear.
There was the metallic clicking of restraints coming open. "Finally," Persephone said with a shrill, malicious laugh.
Periscope looked back. His circuitry ran cold. The shadowy mass clung to the researcher, enveloping her upper body. Tentacles slithered along her head and formed veiny clusters on her temples. Her eyes were rolled back into her head as the creature flayed her mind. Against her will, her motor functions were taken over. Her hand had been removed from the kill switch and was now gripping the restraint release switch.
Periscope raised his weapon but wasn't fast enough. Persephone was upon him and the guards faster than her emaciated form should have allowed. Wicked claws sprang out, cutting Periscope down the center of his torso, leaving gashes in his metal and polymer structure. The guard beside him was less lucky. His throat was cut to the bone and blood spatter coated the side of Periscope's sensor pod.
The other guard tried to bash her with his weapon, but a human could not stand up to a vampire at close quarters. She bore her fangs to full length tore a chunk out of his neck. Periscope tried to intervene put was brushed aside by the vampiric queen. She delivered a kick to his abdomen and he was sent flying out of the back of the cell. He landed roughly on the pavement.
Error messages were quickly generated and logged, indicating power core damage. He struggled to move from his prone position. Unlike Kilo-class frames, Periscope did not run on solid-state batteries. He ran on a single miniaturized Plutonium-238 Thermoelectric generator that generated power from the decay of the isotope. It posed no serious threat to those around him, but a power core breach would result in a full loss of power to his robotic body. His processors fuzzed from the release of radiation.
Persephone stretched, enjoying her freedom after being kept in isolation for so long. The shadowy mass released the poor researcher. Her body fell to the floor unceremoniously. It writhed next to Persephone like a puppy dog seeking attention.
"Not now, pet," she told it. Despite her glee at her freedom, she sounded tired and ragged. "Mommy has not had anything to drink for some time. Just disposing of these insects has really taken it out of me." She descended on the dead guards to feed on their blood. The macabre display sickened Periscope. As her fangs sucked them dry, her body rejuvenated. Her skin remained pale but no longer had its sickly yellow hue, and her muscles no longer appeared atrophied.
A figure emerged from the jungle. "Sister," Persephone acknowledged them warmly.
"Sister," Selene said in return.
"So, you did as I asked?"
"Of course—"
"That would be a first," Persephone chided her.
Selene's brow furrowed. "All to free you from these," she said, speaking of the Rifles.
"Yes, and I understand you liquidated the Red Wind clan to do so. Quite a callous use of our brethren."
"Perhaps if you had an executor, that would not be necessary," Selene defended herself.
Persephone shook her head. "I did have one. She lies dead in Peru. And unlike you, I do not associate with fools."
"Because a primitive tribeswoman is so useful," Selene accused.
"I did not need her to be useful. They were uncontacted, unblemished by the machinations of modern humanity."
"And useless for furthering—"
The entire prison transport exploded outward in a massive fireball, illuminating the night and consuming the two arguing vampires and the mindflayer in the blast. Periscope's chassis was thrown several dozen more feet down the road by the blast wave. A Foxhound emerged from the darkness above, missing a single missile from its rails. It came in fast and landed next to Periscope's crumpled form.
A large man jumped out. He was huge, with bulging muscles visible beneath his Freikorps armor. His helmet's ballistic faceplate glowed a menacing red. Two black crossed Cossack swords were emblazoned on his massive frontal armor plate—the mark of the Striker-Commander himself, Ivan Federov; the chief of all special forces. He was flanked by two assault troopers, who had the same insignia emblazoned on their helmets. He dwarfed them, but they were equally intimidating in their heavy armor. Their kit was highly nonstandard. They carried HR-15s with unique modifications, lasers, and optics. A single kilo-class frame trailed behind them.
The big man walked over to Periscope. "You are quite foolish for a computer," he said in a jovial Caucasus Slavic accent. "And lucky too." He picked up the robot and set him on his feet. Periscope's stabilizers struggled to keep him upright. Federov brushed dirt off of the AI with few quick pats.
"Moving a high-value prisoner in secrecy in the middle of the night? What were you thinking?"
"OPSEC," Periscope replied coldly.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk," Federov ridiculed him. "You are lucky I was monitoring you. Indeed, ISR discovered enemy plan. Some poor Rifle nearly got his soul sucked out, but he figured out they were using Los Angeles as decoy to allow them to strike here and free that thing—Oh look, they are still moving."
Away from the fiery wreck of the prison transport, Persephone and Selene were recovering.
"We should have burned that one like I suggested. Well, ilyen az élet." He then gestured to the frame. "For you."
Periscope regarded the inferior machine coldly. He did not want to transfer to the less-capable platform, but he didn't have much of a choice. "Epsilon Protocol," he told it. The Kilo-class frame went rigid. Its chest opened up to reveal its drives. Periscope connected to it with his finger, using a fiber-optic plug. He transferred his processes to the new frame. It was less capable, and he was forced to leave most of his collected data onboard his old, shattered body. It wasn't terribly consequential, as they could be retrieved later. He'd also build himself a newer, better body after this.
Once complete, the Kilo frame flashed green and returned to normal, losing its rigidity but adopting a more human demeanor than any other frame. Periscope's old body entered a proper shutdown and fell by the wayside.
Persephone and Selene were on their feet again. The assault troopers raised their weapons, but Federov held out his hand. "Take skinny prisoner one on the left. I take the pale cyka in dress."
He broke into a sprint towards Selene. She lashed out with her claws, but he was faster. He ducked under her swing and drove his shoulder into the vampire's gut. While she reeled from the powerful strike, he delivered an uppercut to her jaw. She howled through her teeth and grabbed his arm with her claws, attempting to twist the sharp points into his flesh. He didn't notice. Federov placed a huge hand over her face and gripped her head. He ripped her away from him and picked the vampiric queen up like a ragdoll. With precision, he pivoted on the heel of his foot like an Olympic shot-putter and threw her into the side of a tree.
"Come now, I thought vampire's were tougher than that. Do not tell me I took pre-workout for nothing." He charged at her again.
The assault troopers were having less success.