“Lucas.” He could feel Tess gently rock his shoulder. “You got to wake up.”
“I know,” he smiled without opening his eyes. Moments like this were rare and needed to be cherished.
“You know Virgil is going to be mad if you’re late for the briefing.” He felt her snuggling next to him under the sterile covers. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who wanted this moment to last a little longer.
“Is that so?” Lucas wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, enjoying the sensation of her warm skin against his own. “We are three hours away from the transition point to real space. Until then, we are officially under Free Rein directive.”
“I am pretty sure you are abusing that one.” Tess purred in his ear before biting it playfully with her teeth.
“Besides, you are still under observation, doctor’s orders.” This time he opened one eye to see her mischievous smile.
“I do remember him telling me I was supposed to rest in my bed for a few days….” She pinched his lower lip with her teeth. “But I don’t recall you being included in the treatment.”
Lucas just lay in the bed, enjoying the comfort of the pillow and the soft sheet covering him. Well, Tess’s company was more than welcome. But if he was honest, he would have liked to spend the last few hours of not running around a battlefield, getting some rest.
“Hey, do you think it is the same in the other units?” She asked in a soft voice. “I mean, we are the only mixed one, so I was just wondering….”
It was an innocent question. After all, she was the newest member of the Demons, only a month since she came off the transport from Osiris. On top of that, she was the first Gen 6 in their ranks. It would take some time to get her up to speed and get used to the fact that she was now Discharge instead of Cortez. Technically, Thessia had all of her predecessor’s essential memories in her cortex and some of those leaked into her personality. The fact that this time around, Discharge was also female didn’t help either. Alas, the ordained scientists who were responsible for the creation of the Demons couldn’t secure a host of the same sex for every generation. Still, Lucas was a little surprised that he didn’t mind this change as much as he thought he would. Actually, he had to admit that being a female this time around suited Discharge far better.
“Fraternisation is strongly encouraged within battalion Daeva. And because even the crew on their dedicated transports is also entirely female, they’re quite eager to mix with other units whenever they have the chance. The Shayatin, on the other hand, are very private about it and allow only some Daeva squads aboard their carriers during Free Rein.” He answered as he traced the edges of the new cybernetic arm he had installed on her a few days ago.
“That would explain why Hector and Thor were so excited that we would share a transport ship with the harpies.” He could feel the smile in her voice and a hint of jealousy. “Might see what all the fuss is about when I get a chance. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against Athena or Nia, but those two are very greedy when it comes to sex.”
Lucas chuckled, seeing a hint of red enter her cheeks. “That’s common knowledge. They are the manifestation of Greed and Wrath, after all.”
“Right, I keep forgetting that you old guys take that stuff a bit too seriously.” There was a hint of disappointment in her voice, which he chose to ignore. “Tell me, oh wise one, which sin am I then?”
“That’s easy.” Lucas laughed, aware that she was only teasing him. “You, Discharge, are Lust.”
Tess flicked his nose with her finger as her face turned into a pout.
“You’re only saying that because I let you into my bed!” Her playful tone was quite endearing.
“I don’t mean it literally,” Lucas ran his fingers through her hair, “although I can’t argue with what I’ve observed so far.”
She flicked his nose again, but this time used her cybernetic arm. “I’m feeling lust, all right. The lust to strangle you, doc.”
“Be careful with that. You’re still not used to how much force you use with it. But I’m being serious; Discharge has always been Lust.” He grabbed her wrist before she could attack him again. “I’m not talking about carnal desires. You have to think of it more broadly. It’s the same with the others.”
“Fine. You win this time.” She gently bit his shoulder so that he would let go.
“Although you’re slightly wrong about Hector and Thor. They were in a hurry because half of the Daeva are Gen 6, just like you. Us old guys are very interested to see what they have changed in your generation.” He gave her a playful smile. “Still, Athena and Nia, at the same time. I’m surprised. Those two don’t like to share their toys.”
“Ass.” Tess poked him in the ribs with her elbow. “So? What’s the verdict?”
“I must admit, you have quite a lot of stamina. And you’re quite flexible,” Lucas smiled again, “but you lack the cold fury of the Demons.”
“Seriously? I think you should have your eyes checked, doc. Have you seen Carthage?” She lifted herself on her elbow and stared at him.
“That’s because Nia is Passion.” He swiped her hand and forced her back on the pillow next to him.
“What do you mean? Didn’t you just say she was Wrath?”
“I forget that your generation lacks the complete indoctrination we had.” He sighed and continued before she could interrupt him again. “Do you remember the scripture of Condemnation?”
“Not really. Though, I’m sure Athena gave me a good lecture on it when I asked why you Gen 3s are so obsessed with the teachings of the Church of the Third Hell when you hate the very concept.”
“Righteous wroth befell the Blessed Saint of Hell once He had seen the unclean pollute His realm.
He asked the faithful and virtuous, and they did respond to His call and marched to meet the beasts.
Many martyred souls fell before the unclean, and with each, His heart wept for their sacrifice.
The Blessed Saint, in His anger, stood from His throne and promised cruel death to the unclean.
He who ruled the Holy Garden of Hell and had made it into a Paradise had locked many monsters away.
First, He unleashed the ancient golems Shayatin, chained to His throne - promising them freedom.
With the fire of anger burning within their cybernetic hearts, they charged forth through the Gates of Hell.
He then turned His gaze to the scorned daughters of Saint Lilith and promised them forgiveness.
The Daeva spread their wings and screamed and shrieked their cries of war as their fury consumed His foes.
But those horrors were not enough, for the Blessed Saint of Hell wanted to erase the unclean.
He went to the deepest depths of the Holy Garden and unshackled the Demons of old.
Once men and women, they had allowed both virtue and sin to corrupt them into monstrous things.
To them, He promised war, yet they refused Him, for war, they knew war was eternal.
He then promised them carnage, but it was not carnage they craved.
For freedom, they asked.
The Blessed Saint refused them, for setting Demons free would be a torment upon the faithful.
They asked His forgiveness, but He would not allow their corrupted mouths to worship Him.
Finally, they asked to be mortal in the hour of their death and for The Blessed Saint to grant them this one mercy.
Alas, that was a mercy He could not grant, for Demons do not die.
In His desperation, the Blessed Saint proclaimed that they could sin as much as their black hearts desired while they served Him.
For as long as they remained bound to Him, their sins were going to be His sins.
Binding them with an unbreakable chain, He let the Demons loose into the galaxy.
The Blessed Saint watched as the Demons’ tainted fingers spread corruption through the unclean and beast alike, driving them into madness.
He watched as those foul beings, trapped for so long in the depths of the Holy Garden, descend on His enemies with malice and violence unmatched.
And He who rules the Holy Garden of Hell kept His promise and delivered a death most cruel to those who dared to prey on the faithful.”
“You know, Athena was right. You would make a good chaplain.” Tess was serious about it; he could hear it in her voice.
“I suppose.” Lucas shrugged. “Though I’m not much of a believer in that theological crap.”
“Could have fooled me! Is that why you can quote the scripture?” She giggled next to him.
“No, it is because the ordained scientist of the Church of the Third Hell decided it was not important to give Gen 4s and later the same motivation as us Gen 3s. Because it worked too damned well. Unlike us, you at least have some shred of humanity in you. You understand morality and ethics, but those are abstract concepts to us. And we will always be envious of that.”
He couldn’t hide his anger, despite knowing it was not her fault. Usually, Virgil and Athena would be with him for this, but there was no helping it. Besides, it was up to him to assess how far the Church of the Third Hell had gone with the indoctrination process.
Lucas felt her push away from him and sat on the edge of the bed.
“I’m sorry, Tess. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. But you have to understand. Virgil, Athena, Nia and I were indoctrinated to believe this. At the same time, we are forbidden from accepting the faith. We had to question it to know the truth. It was supposed to make us better weapons, and in a way, it did.”
He looked into her eyes, seeing only resentment this time, and he couldn’t blame her. Lucas was making it sound as if she wasn’t one of them. But instead of apologising, he doubled down because this was important, and Thessia had the right to know the truth.
“You’re a Demon, Tess, not one of the faithful. It doesn’t matter how much dogma the High Priests have put in your head; you will become like us. And Discharge, you have to understand this, we four are the last Gen 3s. We were a temporary solution to a problem meant to pave the way for Gen 4.”
He traced her spine with his fingers. “There are no more Demons. We’re the only ones left. All the others were recycled. That’s why we look after each other and have the same convictions. That’s why we’ll fix you like we did with the others.”
“Demons are cunning, wicked and uncaring monsters. Not even the pleas of their own kind can make their twisted black hearts feel remorse.” She quoted at him. “I guess they really did a number on you guys.”
Lucas buried his head into the pillow, unwilling to submit to the guilt he felt. The silence between them stretched for a minute before Thessia broke it.
“I wanted to ask you something last night,” she turned to face him, her amber eyes staring into him. “The other day, when you were patching me up, Virgil said it reminded him of the mission on Terra. I checked; the Demons were never deployed to the Holy Garden.”
“And that’s how it’s supposed to stay.” He gave out a sigh but knew he had to answer her question. After all, she was one of them now. “Back when we Gen 3s left the vats, we were ordered back to the Imperial Palace. We had to dispose of the Gen 2s because they had started showing signs of degradation and rampant mutation. The defects were not fixed until Gen 4 rolled out.”
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“I was wondering why you administered the pink stuff only to the other Gen 3s.” She said, realisation plastered on her face. After he gave her an annoyed glare, she added. “Sorry, please continue.”
“As I was saying, back then, Dorian was Discharge. He charged at a turret emplacement and, just like you, lost his right arm. On our first deployment at that, again, just like you.” He threw the pillow at her before she could make another silly comment.
“What was Terra like?” Tess asked and returned the pillow to him with a direct hit to his face.
“It was beautiful.” Lucas closed his eyes, remembering the first image he had seen of the Holy Garden of Hell. “The green storm clouds outlined on the bright blue sky.” He felt Discharge snuggle back next to him.
“The blooming stone trees and fresh violet grass, outlined by the blasted mountains and radioactive black sands of the great desert. The ash wind blowing at the ancient basalt stones of the walls of the Palace proper, coating them in layers of volcanic dust. The vast habitats surrounding the Palace Minor and the white, pale corpse light of the sun reflecting from their crystal domes. All of it bathed in the red of the burning sea in the valley below… It was beautiful, glorious and frightening.” He finished as the image danced in his mind’s eye.
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Donovan slammed his fist against the wall, regretting the decision as soon as it bounced off the thick titanium alloy metal sheet. He was made to look like a complete fool. One person had turned his entire command onto a joke. It didn’t matter how incompetent his people were; he was also to blame. For far too long, Donovan couldn’t be bothered to enforce any sort of standard, and now he was left with the fruits of his indifference. But it was too late to whip Security back into shape. No, that ship had sailed, and there was no turning back. To make matters worse, Donovan was currently standing on a land mine because of that bloody bastard Helix.
Refuse, and he would be dead. Accept the madman’s offer, and Neverok will kill him. And on top of that, the fucking Knight Protector von Eisstahl would be docking with Lost Hope in less than forty hours. Sure, then everything will be that bitch’s problem, but Donovan harboured no illusions about who would be blamed for it. If only he could guess what Helix’s goal was for coming to the mining complex, then perhaps he could gain some leverage…
“Might as well wish for a bloody carrier battle group while I’m at it!” Donovan hissed through clenched teeth, punching the wall again. There was simply nothing he could do, and feeling impotent was something he didn’t appreciate in the least. Throughout his entire life, Donovan Rex had firm control over his life. He knew when to hide, just as he knew when to take risks. Overconfidence, however, was his one flaw, something that was never an issue before coming to this damned mining complex. Still, he tackled all his problems head-on; even now, he was doing his best. The only difference was that this time, Donovan understood that he was in an impossible situation. Yes, that was it. But accepting it wouldn’t do a thing to help him dig himself out of an early grave.
Realising that his thoughts were going in circles, Donovan stood still and took several deep breaths. The smell of blood assaulted his nostrils, and he looked at the mangled corpses of the Mo-Saa. If only Gad had done her job, this would be all over, and he wouldn’t be in this mess.
“You just had to walk into a fucking trap, didn’t you? You fucking whore!”
He kicked the closest body, which made him feel a little better. However, Donovan knew that he couldn’t blame the sadistic woman for getting herself killed, which dampened his mood just as quickly. No, this was all the fault of the Control AI Helix installed on the mainframe. Suddenly the gears turned inside the Chief’s head. That was what the bastard was doing here. Whoever was backing him was the one behind the artificial intelligence. They wanted to test their abominable creation, and Last Hope was the perfect place to do it. Isolated, unprotected and sophisticated enough, the mining complex checked all the boxes. Donovan was willing to bet his savings that the station was disconnected from the no-void relay, meaning that even if anyone wanted to call for help, there would be no way to send a distress signal.
Yes, he was on to something. He could feel it. All that was needed was that he remain calm and think rationally. Donovan pressed his head against the cold metal wall in the hope that it would cool his head, both literary and metaphorically. Everything was finally falling into place. Of course, the organisation or foreign agency pulling the strings would send only a single skilled infiltrator for this kind of mission. Stay out of sight, keep a low profile and strike only when the time is right. He pulled the shift schedule on his cornea implant, feeling stupid that he had missed something this obvious. The first incident occurred around when the day and night shifts changed. As a result, section 01 was fairly empty, and the lockdown that followed had everyone scrambling. Apart from Kodiak’s Team 9, there was no one station anywhere near HQ. From there, it would be easy for anyone with the proper training to gain control of the command centre, especially if they had someone on the inside like Kurz and King.
“Okay, that explains how,” Donovan exhaled slowly. “He’s not some spook as skilled as an entire bloody kill squad.”
That was the easy part. Hell, even the Chief could do it if he had enough time and motivation to train for this kind of mission. The next step was to upload the AI, and things started to get difficult from there. Gathering viable data. For that, the occupants of Lost Hope would have to be unaware of the construct. However, Helix had torpedoed that possibility, either because of a mistake or because he was running out of time. What mattered was that now he needed Donovan’s help; that’s why the bitch Kurtz said that things wouldn’t change.
“Turn this place into a tomb, my ass,” Donovan rumbled as he paced franticly up and down the corridor. “Though,” he rubbed his neck where the knife had left a slight mark, “if something were to happen to me, Kurtz would be the one running the place as Chief of Security.”
As much as he didn’t like it, Zoë was smarter than all the other Second Officers combined. And with enough muscle to back her up, the others wouldn’t object all that much to her taking the post until the Academy assigned an official replacement. They’d make her life difficult, but they wouldn’t object. This meant that although the threat to kill everyone on Lost Hope was idle, the one against Donovan’s life wasn’t. He would need to tread carefully for a little while longer. Besides, what was one more collar around his neck? Very soon, there would be none because he wouldn’t allow this opportunity to slip through his finger.
Finally, he was using his head as he should have been from the very start. First, the Chief would have to earn Helix’s trust. Let the Demon think that he was in control. Have him do what Donovan never could – dispose of the Commodore and his cronies. Even if he failed, it would end as a win-win situation. And when the dust settles, all the Chief would have to do was blame everything on the one who survives. Sure, that would mean that he would have to admit certain crimes, but he would be on a transport to a penal facility, laughing his ass off while von Eisstahl dealt with the Control AI. Spending a few years in prison was preferable to being dead, and with some luck, Donovan would have some time during all the chaos to move more cargo to compensate for the pension he would lose.
“Dead men don’t need money,” he smiled and marched towards the reinforced blast door.
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An electric shock jolted Lucas out of his dream-like state. He grabbed the connection cable and yanked it out of the port behind his ear in complete disregard of all safety protocols. Carefully he examined the area with the tip of his finger and forced his cortex implant to run a full diagnostic. The chances that it was damaged were slim, but there was always the possibility that the shock might have caused faulty memory segments. Those were potentially very dangerous as they could lead to the implant’s internal data-store becoming corrupt, triggering an emergency shutdown. And without access to the proper equipment to fix it, this would be fatal for Lucas. He let out a sigh of relief as the report showed that the cortex was fine, save for the maintenance port, which was fried. It was yet another problem he had to deal with later.
“Imprint failed at ninety-three percent.” The AI’s flat statement only further soured his mood.
“How long was I out?”
“Eighteen minutes and forty-six seconds. Helix, Donovan Rex is waiting for you. Should I let him in?”
That was faster than Lucas expected. If anything, he was left with the impression that the Chief would choose a violent ending to the negotiations. Instead, the stocky man waiting on the other side of the door had a wide grin on his square face and madness in his eyes. The medic’s first impression of Officer Rex was that he was talking with a Blue Bible Group volunteer. Not too bright, a bit hot-headed, and fanatically loyal to the cause, but overall, a pragmatic human being. Now, however, the man appeared to be the same over-exaggerated caricature of a crime boss that he had seen in the recreational feeds Nia was so fond of watching. The change in personality that had occurred in the Chief, and in such a short time, didn’t bode well.
“Open the door,” Lucas sighed reluctantly before assuming the usual stance when talking with those outside of the Demons.
“Before I agree to anything, I have a few demands,” Chief Rex spoke animatedly before he even stepped inside the room.
“I am listening,” the medic forced his facial expression to remain neutral, feeling his ire rise.
“No one outside of this room gets to know about our little arrangement. I hear so much as a whisper, and… well, the complex is a big place, and you can’t be everywhere at the same time.”
Lucas nodded, worried that if he spoke, he would end up killing the idiot who dared speak to him in such a way. Although he understood the reasoning behind this demand, he honestly didn’t care who knew what as long as they followed his orders and stayed out of his way.
“As far as I’m concerned, everyone here is a traitor or a plant. I don’t want them anywhere near HQ.” This caused a commotion from the group of techs at the far end.
However, they were quickly silenced by the distinct sound of the defence platforms charging. Their reaction wasn’t unexpected, considering the accusation. The Chief’s, however, was far more interesting to Lukas. Eyes fixed somewhere above the medic’s head, the man spoke in a voice that, although full of the same level of self-importance, carried with it a hint of uncertainty.
“And as much as I would like to do exactly that, I know it can’t happen,” Donovan continued as if nothing had happened, “without people asking too many questions. Things have to appear as normal as possible. As such, I don’t want that abomination you’ve brought to the mainframe to speak or make itself known. All it does has to appear as if it’s the work of King and the techs.”
Lucas was certain now that the Chief didn’t have a list of demands. He was making it all on the spot to test how far he could push. There was one thing the stocky officer hadn’t considered, and that was that the Demon would put a slug through his head the moment he overstepped. These people weren’t of the faithful, they were no different to heretics, and there was nothing stopping him from doing what he did best. Sure, it would force Lucas to adjust his plans again, but convenient or not, there was a limit to how far he was going to take this charade.
“Same goes for you and your pet over there,” Donovan pointed at Zoë without looking, his face turning red. “I don’t want either of you anywhere near my people.”
“Chief Rex….”
“Save your threats,” the Head of Security interrupted. “You’re not going to do a thing because you need my help. If you didn’t, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
The medic could barely restrain himself. Who did this bug think he was? He was nothing. A suicidal madman. Nothing more than a mere human… Lucas took hold of the thought as soon as it formed and squished it. He was on the brink of losing control. Actually, he was already skirting the edge of his limits before Donovan entered the room. The failure of the imprint and the memory that was triggered because of the procedure had taken a far greater toll than he realised. As a Demon, he knew exactly what he was capable of, and in his current weakened state, it wasn’t all that much. That’s why he had chosen this approach in the first place. It wasn’t easy, but Lucas managed to stop himself from doing something rash and extremely stupid. There would be a time to dispose of the Chief later. For now, he had to endure.
“I’ll provide a suitable cover story to keep everyone out of your way,” Donovan spoke with a smug smile on his face, thinking he had Lucas cornered, no doubt. “In turn, you turn a blind eye to my operation in docking station 02-14C.”
“Chief Rex, I honestly do not care what it is you do as long as it doesn’t become my problem.”
Lucas flashed the man a faint smile, the type that had the ordained scientists looking uncomfortably over their shoulders for a week. He had learned very early that sometimes subtle facial expressions were far more efficient than actual threats.
“You’re taking one too many liberties with my patience. The station is mine, and your consent is but a formality. Please, do not presume you can bar me from this room. Or any other for that matter.” This had the effect Helix had aimed for.
“Fine,” Donovan took a step back, visibly shaken. “In that case, I want something more tangible, and swear you’ll have my complete cooperation.”
So, that was his goal from the start. Lucas should have seen it coming. All this unreasonable bravado was a ploy which was meant to make the actual demand sound like a compromise. That was rather curious; he had slightly underestimated Donovan Rex. Helix crossed his arms over his chest, indicating that he was listening.
“I want Commodore Neverok gone. I don’t care how you do it. I want him and his cronies out of the picture. You have three days, or the deal is off.”
“That’s very interesting, Chief Rex. As it happens, I’m very curious to meet this… Neverok.”
“Right… Three days. Don’t forget.” With that, Donovan stepped out of the Control room in a hurry. “I’ll send King the info for the cover story. If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to tell my people to stand down.”
“Three days!” The Chief of Security shouted as the blast door closed.
The medic couldn’t believe it. This had gone better than he dared to imagine. Either he was missing something, or the people here were idiots. He shook his head. That wasn’t right; they were just opportunistic low-lives who didn’t know the meaning of the word loyalty. And apparently, Chief Rex was their king.
“Helix.”
“What is it now?” This time Lucas couldn’t hide his frustration.
“I have examined the information contained within the mainframe, and I know why Blood and Faith protocol did not trigger properly.” He didn’t like the hesitation in the mechanical voice as the thing paused. “Station Sigma 37-H has experienced a no-void collision event before its reactors could go critical.”
The medic blinked several times, trying to process what he had just heard. “Stations are not equipped with a no-void core.”
“The researchers in section 03 weren’t testing radioactive materials, were they?” Lucas rubbed his forehead after the AI remained silent for nearly a minute. “They had a prototype core in there that no one was supposed to know about. Not even us.”
“According to the logs in the data-stores of the mainframe, Research Station Sigma 37-H has, for the lack of a better word, collided with Automated Mining Complex Sigma 37-H….” The short burst of static was most likely the AI’s attempt to imitate a sigh. “The repair drones must have fixed the connection between the two entities, mistaking the station as a new module to be added to the mining facility due to the similar signature. Of the original Research Station remain, only section 01, in its entirety. Section 02, subsections 1 through 25B. Section 05, Reactors, Training Environmental Simulators 1 and 2, and Armouries. All other sections were most likely lost during the no-void collision event.”
All Lucas could think of was if it was possible to fix one of the cryo-pods and install it in the nearest shuttle. He had to get out of this place as soon as possible. To claim what the AI had just said to be insane was an understatement. That statement defied the laws of physics and common sense. Then again, no-void collisions were rare in the extreme and remained somewhat of a mystery. The few recorded cases suggested that all objects involved would disintegrate. Although a few recovered fragments were perfectly fused into one another, there was nothing to support the theory that this was a survivable accident. There had to be a mistake.
“We should’ve been told about it,” Lucas half-spoke, half-whispered.
“MASS Demon was tasked with protecting Project Ascension. Information regarding the prototype was determined to be of no strategic value to your mission.”
“No strategic value!” The medic grunted through clenched teeth. “It changes our entire approach on securing the station….”
He had the sudden urge to empty his entire arsenal at the servers lining the walls of the Control Room. As satisfying as that would feel, it would achieve nothing.
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