Writing Prompt: “The shrieks were ceaseless and unending”
Abbess Abigail eyed Knight Irene across the desk. “Knight Jeanne trusts you, but I don’t. You’re young, and young Knights often make mistakes. I don’t like Knights that make mistakes.” she rasped from her mechanical throat. Abigail’s hand reached up and touched the device that allowed her to speak. “Like I did.”
“Knight Jeanne has been training me well.” Irene replied. “I do my best to avoid mistakes.” She stopped and lowered her eyes to the Abbess’ desktop for a long moment. “Though I think some mistakes are unavoidable.”
Abigail sighed and moved her papers to the side and set her elbows on the polished stone desk and folded her hands under her nose. “This last mission proved you are not yet ready for plasma ordinance. People were hurt, and expensive machinery was destroyed. Jeanne attempted to assume responsibility for the mission, but you refused. Why?”
Irene shook her head. “My mistakes are my own. It’s true that Knight Jeanne puts a tremendous amount of faith in me as her subordinate, but I’m not doing anything on my own. It’s always-”
Abagail said nothing while Irene struggled with trying to find the right words. Finally, Irene choked them out.
“I want a solo accomplishment. Something I’ve done by myself.”
Abigail nodded at that. “A reasonable request.” She turned to one of her screens. “One of the gene-gineer farms has gone dark.”
She tapped at a lit square on her screen and a three-dimensional holo-projection of the known sections of the Hive appeared.
At the very base were heat sinks that sank deep into the ground, leeching heat from the magma that flowed just beneath. That heat was drawn up into power generators that branched out to the rest of the Hive, providing power to habitation blocks, manufactories, the agri-plants, up and up and up and up at the top was the Cathedral of the Lunar Princess and the Noble Spires.
Abigail spun the Spire with a flick of her finger and zoomed in on one section which displayed as an empty section.
“A year ago it was a gene vat that spawned the pig and cow meat that’s eaten in the Spires.”
“A year ago?” Irene asked, confused.
“Things are fuzzy. Power utilization spiked, and then it went off-grid. No one’s ever checked up on it. There’s no security footage worth mentioning, and the nobility simply don’t care where their meat comes from, just as long as it arrives on time. There are plenty of gene-gineer plants, after all.”
Abigail waved her hand, dismissing the holo. “It’s negligence like that that will bring this Hive to its knees, mark my words.”
She tapped her finger on the desk. “You want a solo job? Go check it out. See what you can do about getting the power back on.”
She set a data chip on the desk. “This is a dataset for a short-range ordinance package. It’s stupid that you Terminatrixes are reduced to using wrist blades for close-quarters combat. I’m also placing an administrative lock on your plasma ordinance until you get more field experience.” She paused for a moment.
“The lock will be released if you encounter any of the rogue Knights, but only then. I can’t leave you stripped naked in a fight where they have plasma and you don’t.”
Irene nodded.
“Don’t disappoint, Knight Irene.”
Irene saluted and left, trotting lightly through the massive edifice of the Cathedral. Jeanne was the type of Knight that would ride her Smirtka through the Cathedral, but Irene left Hellena in the War Hangar.
When she reached the hangar, she shucked her robes and slipped into the contact suit that was necessary for Hellena to interface with her. Specialized contacts in the lithe, skin-tight suit pressed icy-cold against her skin, ready to transmit neural input to Hellena.
She frowned up at Hellena as she approached. Jeanne’s Smirtka Evelína seemed to have a personality all of her own. Hellena simply responded to instruction and provided support, no different than any of the other battlesuits.
However, all Smirtka had a Personality Helix, so shouldn’t Hellena have displayed some sort of behavior-
She shook her head. Evelína was not a model for Smirtka personality. She was ...”quirky”, “eccentric”, and every behavior she manifested in the presence of others was simply... Irene shook her head.
“Open up, Hellena, and prepare to receive a new dataset.” Irene called.
Hellena opened up, and a tendril reached out towards Irene, who put the chip on the tendril, which retracted quickly. Irene climbed into the Smirtka, and Irene took a moment to review the systems as they came online, exactly the same as she had done a thousand times over when she was a neophyte in a training suit.
“All systems online. Dataset assimilation complete. New weapons available.”
Part of the Smirtka weapons availability depended on actual hardware installed in the metal, mechanical portion of the suit, the other part relied on the nearly incomprehensible abilities of the Seed, which could create things as long as it was given the programming that explained how the things were built.
“Mission chip, mission chip-” Irene mused and then froze. She’d left the chip with the mission parameters in her robe.
“Hellena, do you mind?” She asked, not expecting an answer, but a long tendril slithered out, picked up her robe, rummaged through it, and drew back. The holo that the Abbess had used to point out the missing gene-gineer facility appeared on one of her sub screens.
“Plot us a course and let’s head out.” Irene ordered, and Hellena complied, plotting the best possible course that would take them through the supermassive structure of the Hive, while Irene strode to the edge of the flight deck and triggered the jump jets to launch herself off.
The Hive was layered with complex and dense networks of cabling, ductwork, pipes, and miles and miles of wiring, each with localized network hubs filled with all sorts of comm chatter that Irene used as beacons to orient herself as she traversed the myriad districts, heading to her destination.
“You don’t sing much, do you?” Irene muttered, and Hellena responded by linking up with the Hive’s main radio beacon, a system that broadcast Lunar hymns across the hive and even out across the Waste, a beacon that people could use to guide themselves to Al-Omeg.
There were hundreds, if not thousands of different radio stations that broadcast all manner of music, news reports, statistics and entertainment programming throughout the Hive, but the one station that was universally accessible from any point in the Hive City was the primary radio beacon.
Irene once again found herself comparing herself with her mentor, and Hellena with Evelína. Jeanne was tall and strong and fierce, where Irene was slim and small and clumsy. Evelína was bubbly, effervescent and ... well, eccentric, where Hellena didn’t seem to demonstrate any sort of personality at all.
Irene contemplated these things as she avoided the hab-blocks and the webwork of civilian streets, since the sight of a so-called ‘Terminatrix’ would send them scattering in a hysteric panic.
She triggered Hellena’s stealth package and rested on a civilian launching platform while she considered her route into the bowels of the Hive City.
The city was massive, housing millions of people, and under the streets of the cities and factories was a strange wasteland of forgotten places, places that hadn’t seen the light of human civilization since the Plant that grew the Hive created them. There were whole areas that were unknown, unmapped, and effectively lost. Shortly after her experience with Jeanne in Low Earth Orbit, they had spent some time trying to figure out why an entire city block had simply disappeared. Ultimately it had been discovered that a massive elevator with its workings buried underground had simply decided, for some reason beyond the understanding of those that investigated, to lower the city block down a thousand feet into the shadowy depths of the Hive.
“According to this map, there’s a length of tunnel here that should take us to just near the gene-gineer plant.” She muttered to herself. There was no explanation for the tunnel’s presence or of its function, however.
She tapped the map. “There.”
She triggered her jets and leapt off the launch pad, already thinking ahead to her next jump, which would take her down to a series of civilian transit tunnels, where she should be able to access that mysterious tunnel.
The tunnel was massive and dimly lit by reddish bulbs coated in dust. The floor was railed; apparently it had been at some point a train tunnel.
“Full sensors. Defensive weaponry.” She called to Hellena, who obliged, showing the Custodian-class anti-personnel weaponry being deployed. As the sensor package came online, Irene was surprised to see camps of people living in the tunnel. Hunched around campfires, living in crudely-assembled shacks and tents.
“This part of the Hive was abandoned, right?” Irene asked, not expecting an answer.
“This part of the Hive should be restricted to authorized personnel. Identifying targets.”
A series of crosshairs flew across the screen, targeting the indigent population.
“No!” Irene shouted. “They’re civilians!”
“This is a clear violation of the anti-trespassing ordinance.” Hellena replied coolly.
“I don’t care!” Irene shouted. “They’re unarmed!”
One of Hellena’s screens went into a test pattern as she cogitated.
“I do not understand.” Hellena finally stated.
Stolen novel; please report.
“...I came from a place like this.” Irene finally mumbled. “I was born in a place like this. There’s no place for them up there, in the light. They’ve been abandoned by the city that created them!” She whispered, tears tracking down her face. “Killing them will only force them into deeper and darker places. This is a place where hope goes to die, Hellena, why can’t you see that?”
“Contradiction.” Hellena replied coolly.
“...go on.” Irene offered.
“You say that they have been abandoned by the city that created them.” Hellena pointed out.
“Yes, that’s right. There are no jobs for them. No hospitals, no doctors, no homes-”
“You came from a similar place.” Hellena cut her off.
“That’s right.” Irene agreed, and waited for Hellena to point out the contradiction.
A minute went by. Irene racked her brain, but couldn’t figure out what Hellena meant with what she said.
“A little help with this contradiction?” Irene offered sheepishly.
“You are an example that not all hope has died for these people.” Hellena replied.
Irene went through a number of facial expressions, finally settling on irritation. “Fine! Not all hope is lost! But that doesn’t mean we have to kill them! Let’s just proceed on mission!” she shouted.
The crosshairs disappeared from the heads-up display.
“Activate vox.” Irene commanded.
A light flicked on, indicating the external vox was active; she could now speak to them.
“This is Holy Knight Irene, Block Seven. This camp is considered trespassing in accordance with the anti-trespassing ordinance. You have been warned.”
She activated the mapping protocol and began moving down the tunnel.
“Now, now, love, that Terminatrix’ll get what’s comin’ when the Shrieks do for her.” a voice muttered; Hellena zoomed in on a tired woman’s face, cradling an equally tired-looking infant to her chest.
“...Shriek?” Irene mused, then refocused her attention forward. “Map this tunnel thoroughly.” She ordered. “If the Abbess’ map is the most accurate map we have, then this area is completely unmapped. We need accurate data.”
The tunnel was massive, reminiscent of the airlock that led outside Al-Omeg to the Wastes beyond.
“If this was for a train, where is it?” Irene mused curiously. “If there is a train, prepare to vacate the tracks immediately if it starts heading our way.” She added.
“It is likely that the train is no longer in service.” Hellena pointed out, and a picture of the homeless camp was displayed briefly. Irene nodded. You couldn’t have a homeless city so well-established if the train was active.
They discovered why the train was no longer operational an hour later; the lead car was wrecked on the tracks, blocking off the tunnel completely.
“Well, that explains that.” Irene muttered.
“Corrosion indicates this train ceased function at least twenty years ago.” Hellena reported crisply.
“How do we get around it?” Irene asked.
Hellena presented a map where she could easily bypass the wreck by rising up through a maintenance hatch, proceeding through a smaller maintenance tunnel, and then dropping back down through another hatch.
“Let’s do it.”
The hatch was covered, over and over again with layers of welded steel plates, bits of metal, seemingly anything that could be used to prevent the hatch being used as an entryway.
“Who did this?” Irene wondered, and deployed Hellena’s wrist knives. The blades were stronger than steel and could carve through the metal like butter.
She climbed through the maintenance hatch and Hellena immediately picked up long smears of old, dried blood that liberally daubed the walls, floor, and ceiling. A jolt of adrenaline lanced through Irene’s heart and she clenched her fists reflexively.
“Tactical mode. Active sensor profile. Deploy...” She examined the weapons she’d been issued with the new dataset package. “...Tsunami Helix. Standard ammunition.”
The weapon she selected was a gun with six rotating barrels, a weapon designed to sweep a battlefield with a wave of devastating solid-state weapons fire.
“If only this was available in plasma.” Irene muttered as she traversed the maintenance tunnel, Hellena’s display showing the path she needed to take, as well as the expected cone of interdiction from her weapon.
The amount of dried blood and viscera Hellena plowed through was horrific; hundreds must have died here.
“Humans?” She asked idly.
“Detecting human skeletal remains and unknown skeletal remains.” Hellena replied.
“Send a data packet to Abigail.” Irene shot back.
“No communication node available to connect to.” Hellena reported back coolly.
“Keep collecting data, then.” Irene shot back testily, “and check to see if there are other access points to this tunnel besides the one we obliterated.”
The only accessible point of entry to the maintenance corridor they traversed was the hatch they headed for; the tunnel was collapsed beyond that point.
“Ugh. This place isn’t in the best condition.” Irene muttered, and eyed the hatch they had to drop down through to get behind the wreck of the train.
“Ugh.” She muttered, and dropped down, her weapon scanning the ruined train tunnel, her death’s-head helm panning back and forth as she looked for any sort of threat.
“Nothing on thermals. Motion trackers... negligible.” Hellena reported, providing a three-dimensional map of everything in a detectable range.
“Any idea what that was back there?” Irene asked Hellena.
“A one-sided battle between humans and a number of unidentified creatures, based on the number of bodies.” Hellena reported, and then displayed the hypothetical forensic scenario. A number of people had attempted to fight off a number of unknown creatures and had, at some point, discharged mining explosives. The humans had been overwhelmed.
“How long until we reach the gene-gineer lab?” Irene asked.
“At this pace, an hour.”
“I don’t like being here. Let’s pick it up. You can slide along the ground like Evelína, right? Let’s do that.” Irene encouraged.
There was a quick, subtle noise that Irene wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been listening for Hellena’s response. A quick, disappointed sigh.
“Deploying jetpacks.” Hellena’s voice was much less animated.
They slid through the train tunnel, Hellena pointing out other splashes of blood, sites where it looked like a massive fight had taken place.
“Movement.” Hellena’s voice carried a nervous urgency behind her dispassionate crispness. “Multiple targets.”
“Human?” Irene mused.
“Unknown.” A sub screen showed a number of blobs filling the tunnel, heading straight towards them.
“Thermals?” Irene asked, but Hellena refused. “Too far.”
“Combat posture. I am the fire. I rush in where angels fear to tread. I am the rock against which the tide breaks. I don't hold the line, I don't draw the line, I am the line.” Irene recited.
“I’m certain Knight Jeanne would love to hear you say things like that.” Hellena replied.
“Ha ha, very funny. All weapons hot and free.”
“Recommendation: antitank rounds would rapidly deplete available breathable atmo in the area. It would not be in our best interest to deploy this ammunition.”
“We might have to. They breathe too, right?” Irene replied, and there it was again, a tiny, disappointed sigh.
“Create an extra atmo bottle. You learned how to do that on that derelict, right?” Irene urged, and then checked the advancing horde.
“Nothing seems to indicate if they’re human or not. Let me know when they come in range of thermals.” She paused. “And give me the searchlights.”
“Thermals do not indicate a human profile.” Hellena reported. “Searchlights online.”
The tunnel was suddenly and brilliantly illuminated by the shoulder-mounted lights that had been deployed.
What they faced was a slavering horde of skinless creatures with narrow, ratlike heads and fleshy bodies. Their limbs were elongated and tapered to bony claws that dug into the concrete of the tunnel, leaving long furrows in the stone.
“Don’t wait for targeting solutions, kill them all!” Irene yelled, and the Tsunami Helix growled to life, unleashing a wave of death that washed over the creatures.
For a moment the creatures hesitated, and then they threw themselves forward in a frantic charge towards her, shrieking with bloodlust.
“Grenades!” Irene yelled, and several soundless thumps on Irene’s back let her know that the launchers had fired. Each anti-personnel grenade exploded, sending hundreds of spinning fragments of hot metal into the horde, shattering bone, tearing flesh, shredding vital organs.
The shrieks were ceaseless and unending as they came at her in wave after wave, mindlessly throwing their bodies at her in delirious hate.
The long-range interdiction cannon fired over and over again, each heavy round blowing apart knots of the creatures while the Tsunami chattered its growling chant of death.
“We will be overrun. More are coming.” Hellena reported.
“Hellfire rounds for the Tsunami!” Irene cried as she leaned on the firing stud. There was a metallic click, and suddenly the growling hate that was spat from the Tsunami went lower as the searing-hot rounds torched dead bodies; sent searing waves of flame through the living ones.
Still the horde advanced, growing ever closer.
“I am the line!” Irene screamed, triggering the antitank rounds. “Switch to flechettes for the Tsunami!”
“There is a potentially fatal buildup of heat in the Tsunami.” Hellena reported calmly.
“Switch to the Ithaca, then!” Irene yelled.
“We will be overrun.” Hellena warned.
“Give me a plasma lance!” Irene demanded.
“There is an administrative lockout.”
“Break the encryption on the lockout!” She yelled as the horde surged closer.
“I’m afraid I cannot do that. Your actions have been recorded as potentially seditious.” Hellena replied.
“If they get past us, they will reach the civilian camp!” Irene yelled at Hellena.
“If you had handled the situation as ordered, this would not be a concern.” Hellena replied indifferently.
“Damn you! Jeanne would be able to do something!” Irene sobbed.
“You are not Jeanne.” Hellena replied.
*****
Irene’s Smirtka touched down on the Cathedral’s launchpad, dripping with gore. Hellena opened up and Irene fell out, catching herself at the last moment so that she didn’t fracture her skull. Her eyes were blank, shadowed, and lifeless. She stumbled listlessly through the Cathedral until she made her way to the Abbess’ office.
“It’s been some time.” Abigail began, observing Irene’s posture and her blank expression. “Your Smirtka reported everything once you were back in range of comms. I’ve had time to look over everything, but what do you have to say about it?” She asked.
“I failed.” Irene replied through numb lips.
Abigail wanted to say so much. She’d seen everything the Smirtka had seen, both inside and outside the suit. She’d heard everything that had been said. The battle Irene had fought had been one of attrition, of retreats backwards through the tunnels. The camps Irene had wanted to protect had been overrun, the civilians slaughtered.
Abigail had been there, in Irene’s shoes. Not just through the recordings, but also in her own struggles in the past.
Things like that could break a person.
Abigail herself had broken.
“You’re relieved of duty.” Abigail replied, frustrated that the mechanical vox at her throat couldn’t express her compassion. “Get some sleep.”