Writing Prompt: “Cruelty has a human heart”
One of the harsher facts of life that Paladin Grace had learned during her term of service was that cruelty had a human heart. That the worst horrors only existed because people made them.
As a Paladin, a Knight that had completed her term of service and been allowed to retire from active duty, the aged woman had the luxury of having a life that didn’t exclusively revolve around the Cathedral. She wasn’t required to dedicate her time to a Lunar Princess, or be obedient to a cause she only had an elementary understanding of.
Yet, as she read the report of civilians being slaughtered by genetic abominations, she found within herself a mix of anger and disappointment. Anger that innocent people had died and disappointment that something like this would happen again.
A young and inexperienced knight had been tasked with a mission. One that no one had a reason to assume would be dangerous, yet one that had resulted in death. Grace audibly sighed as she read the name, “Irene.”
Grace had only bumped into Irene a few times at ceremonies; yet, unbeknownst to the knight in question, Grace pitied her. Simply put, the young and naive knight reminded Grace of her younger self.
Eager to prove to the world that she and her partner could handle anything that the Hive could throw at them.
Nothing was prepared to take down a Smirtka. Yet in this instance, this report she was reviewing, something nearly overwhelmed one, and likely would again. Sometimes, blood was the best teacher one could ask for; yet it was always the cruelest.
Grace sighed as she turned off her tablet. Beside her, an aged man prodded her, “A penny for your thoughts?”, her husband, John, playfully and tenderly said.
Grace gave him a weak smile, “Seriously, what’s a penny?”
John shrugged, “An older currency. I don’t think you’ve realized how interesting history can be.”
Grace shook her head at him and prodded him with her cybernetic arm, “The only interesting thing I found in the archives was you.”
John smiled back, “Well, I don’t want to argue with that. Though, you’ve been in the bedroom sulking for over an hour. Everything ok?”
Grace gave him a sour look. She passed him the dataslate that detailed Knight Irene’s last solo mission.
John grimaced at reading the details, “Oh… poor people.”
Grace nodded, “Poor person.” She corrected. “They focused more on Irene’s performance than the people that got slaughtered. They didn’t even give an estimate.”
John nodded, “Yes, but…”, he sat beside his wife. Her cybernetic arm audibly strained, anger demanding an outlet. John picked his next words carefully, “Leadership fucked up.”
Grace nodded, “Of course they did. They had free knights, it didn’t have to be a solo mission.”
John leaned back as he read through the details again, “What do you think is going to happen?”
Grace turned her head away, “Same thing that happened last time. They’re going to give Irene time off, then throw her back into it.” She paused. “The trespassers are only remembered by their friends and family. Meanwhile, they expect me and Claudia to show up to every damn ceremony and talk about how great the leaders at Cathedral are. Fuck that, praise is earned and they have earned disdain.”
John said, “Speaking of Claudia, she started talking to Mary.”
Grace looked alarmed as her eyes grew wide, “What?”
John nodded, “Mary went to go bring some tools to Richard in the hanger and she started talking to Mary.”
Grace anxiously asked, “What did they talk about?”
John shrugged, “Apparently Claudia asked about the weather and said some puns?” He was just as confused as his wife.
Grace’s anxiety calmed down, “That’s all?”
John nodded, “According to our son, daughter, and Claudia, yes. Don’t worry, they didn’t talk about being a Knight.”
Grace put her head down, “Why couldn’t have Mary taken after you?”
John put his hand on her shoulder, “I might be biased, but I don’t think our daughter taking after her mother is something all that bad.”
Grace shook her head, “No, I won’t have it. She is my daughter and I don’t care what the Cathedral says. Mary isn’t becoming a knight.”
John kept his hand on her shoulder, “I don’t want her becoming one either… but she wants to be one and I think it would be a lot better if you would support her and watch over her when or if the time comes.”
Grace sighed, her cybernetic fist coming undone, “I… know. I know that, but… shit happens.”
John leaned back in his chair, “It does… so we better make sure she is prepared for when that shit happens.”
*****
Abbess Abigail eyed the blinking light on her display that indicated a Smirtka on approach to the Cathedral. After the frustrating and exasperating betrayal by the last Abbess to the Cult of the Worm, they’d switched their comms and IFF codes.
They’d had to. The Personality Helixes of the Smirtkas were hard-coded to never engage in combat with each other. By changing those codes, they were able to defend themselves from the traitors.
And yet, here came an older battlesuit, broadcasting an older IFF.
Suit Claudia, Paladin Grace. Abigail rubbed her forehead. Grace was weirdly stubborn about things, and more, she refused the request to come back to the Cathedral for active service. There weren’t many Knights, and the neophytes were too raw and untested to be given Smirtka. All of the Paladins were needed to keep Al-Omeg safe.
Part of that was an excuse to justify the lack of matured Seeds. They didn’t grow easily, which was why she encouraged Nike to try to ... do her thing with Jeanne’s Smirtka, Evelína.
She turned in her chair to eye Nike, who stood attentively against the wall, within arm’s reach of Abigail, then changed her mind and swung back to her desk. She tapped a comm stud.
“Knight Jeanne, we’ve got a guest arriving. Prepare to intercept. If she’s hostile, engage her.”
She thumbed the comm off and sighed. She was getting too old for active duty.
*****
Grace lined up her approach to the landing pad and let Claudia handle course corrections. The jetpack units weren’t enough for controlled flights.
Hardly anyone recognized her thanks to her rather scarce presence at the Cathedral since her promotion to a Paladin. To make things even more awkward, Claudia began asking her questions, “May I ask your reasoning for using manual control?”
Grace sighed, “I just prefer it that way. Besides, I only use manual control for the small and personal stuff. You still have the big guns?”
Claudia’s annoyance did not go away, “I fail to understand the advantage. I’ve aged gracefully.”
Grace nodded, “That isn’t the issue. Something about controlling the easy stuff makes it click. This isn’t anything new, why is it suddenly bothering you?”
Claudia was silent for a few seconds, “I… understand this is how we have always done it. Yet, I can’t help but feel that recent events should demand more of a… traditional approach in our dynamic.”
Grace shot that idea down, “Your concerns are heard, but-”
Claudia's voice suddenly took a mechanical tone as she said, “Unidentified Smirtka has a… weapons lock?” Her tone shifted to confusion.
Grace’s confusion grew as well, “Sensor package malfunction?”
Claudia simply responded, “No, ran diagnosis three times and no issues found.” Her tone shifted into one of concentration. “Responding to logical paradox, current estimate is- paradox resolved.”
Grace felt justified in using manual control, both because it would mean that she retained control over movement and perhaps the extra processing power helped deal with the paradox.
Knight Jeanne slid out onto the main landing pad of the Cathedral, plasma lances already cycling to full charge.
“IFF?” She asked Evelína.
Evelína stopped humming in Jeanne’s ear. “Paladin ... Grace.” She replied. “Old signal.”
“Probably why the Abbess ordered weapons hot.” Jeanne replied.
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“Deploying Logical Paradox #57.” Evelína sang, eliciting a grimace from Jeanne as she triggered her vox and hailed the Paladin.
“This is controlled airspace. Identify yourself.” She demanded over the vox, and let the weapons lock drift over and land on Grace’s Smirtka.
Grace identified herself, “Paladin Grace”, over vox.
“What brings you to the Cathedral unannounced, Paladin?” Jeanne challenged.
“Preparing Cogitator virus.” Evelína began, but Jeanne shifted to internal comms. “Not yet.” and then toggled back to the vox.
Claudia, in less of a mechanical tone, said, “I want one.”
Grace, ignoring her Smirtka, responded on vox, “I am here to request a certain mission.” Then, to Claudia, she said, “What do you want?”
Claudia simply responded, “Another logical paradox.”
“A mission?” Jeanne mused to herself. She toggled her vox again. “Disarm and disembark.” she replied. “I’ll escort you to the Abbess. Be aware that you will be monitored.”
Grace gave a nod and, over vox, said, “Understood.”
Meanwhile, Claudia had apparently been making a demand and not a request. Soon, Grace heard, “Responding to logical paradox, current estimate is fifteen seconds.”
Jeanne noticed the increase in comm traffic between Evelína and Smirtka Claudia. “Try not to bully her too much.” She advised before ejecting and attaching a respirator.
“Air quality index has improved, Knight Jeanne. You should be able to breathe unassisted for fifteen minutes.” Evelína advised.
“Swell.” Jeanne replied, and gestured to the other battlesuit.
Grace sighed and, on vox, said, “I have to wait twenty seconds as she solves the logical paradox.” Surely enough, after twenty seconds, Grace ejected and put on her own respirator, “You should be able to breathe for fifteen minutes. Oh, also, the other Smirtka says her name is Evelína and the knight’s name is Jeanne.”
Grace shook her head, “Please don’t overdo it.”
Claudia teasingly said, “I do what I want… and what my programming allows, which is this.”
Abbess Abigail stood up as Grace entered her office. Her own Smirtka, Nike, was no doubt scrutinizing Grace and keeping an eye on her fellow paladin.
“You’ve been conspicuously absent from the Cathedral during these... troubles.” Abigail complained. “I wonder where your loyalties lie.” her voice was harsh and grating, the result of having to use a cybernetic voicebox. “Why are you here now?” She demanded.
Grace sighed, already annoyed at the suspicion that she was being put under. Though she expected this, her reputation among the leadership was a mixed one, especially since she became less and less involved with the Cathedral. Though, Claudia put it in words that only Grace could hear, “Bitch.” Grace sent a quick message to Claudia, “See if you can make nice with her Smirtka.”
Grace’s response was simple, “I know that many find it unbecoming of a Paladin to… neglect any extra responsibilities and to do the bare minimum like I have. However, I’ve come for a few reasons. One, I heard about the botched mission with that Knight- Irene, was it?” she added, making it a question. “I saw the report in the files.” She then continued, “I also know of the… traitor problem. I figured that now was perhaps the best time for those of able body to come forward and help with what they can.”
Abigail frowned. “The call was made to the Paladin Council months ago.” She grated. “All the Paladins- except you are already here.” She pointed out. “You’re late.” she accused.
The questioning annoyed Grace, but she kept her cool, “Unfortunately, I made a hasty judgment and assumed that it was not as… dire as it was. As you can see, I’m trying to fix my mistake.”
Abigail fumed silently for a moment, then tapped a few buttons on her desk, which obediently spit out a chip.
“Unless you’ve broken your retirement lockout on your ordinance, you’ll have problems in that hellhole.” She griped. “Your first mission is to finish what Irene started. Clean out that sector of those... things. Get that gene-vat back online, or at least clear it out so the gene-gineers can get it back to work.”
She passed the chip to Grace.
The path that Irene had taken was marked in the file, including through the strange and abandoned train tunnel. One element that Grace had over Irene was that Claudia had a record of the train tunnel that was listed as a large cargo shuttle that moved much larger volumes of cargo from one part of the hive to another.
The tunnel that had been occupied by the homeless was now swathed in moldering gore and offal, piles of corpses, both monstrous and human. Claudia crunched and squelched through the piles of viscera indifferently as they moved towards the gene-vats that had gone dark.
“Claudia, activate stealth.” Claudia chimed back, “Stealth online… gene-gineers, I should have thought of that one” Soon, Grace was silent and cloaked, which was more than enough to sneak past any monsters.
As Grace made her way to the gene-vat in question, she observed some of the monsters. They looked like naked mole rats from one of her husband’s chips, except human sized with a dash of genetic abomination thrown in there. Luckily, their intelligence was lacking. Grace quickly discovered throwing a can, bone, or rock at a metal wall quickly made them rush over to the noise. Unfortunately, it did not completely eliminate the risk as scent was one thing Grace could not conceal. Though, she made her way to the gene-vat unharmed and undetected.
The gene-vat was… horrid. Scum dripped from the ceiling, oozed down the walls, burbled in the vats themselves. Grace bit back her vomit at the slimy waste, and the muck that splattered out of the vats.
Somehow, it smelled worse than the rotting corpses outside and, for a brief second, Grace had wondered why she took this mission. Unfortunately, the room was full of monsters, freshly born ones screaming and thrashing as they were brought into this world by an uncaring machine; the only thing they knew was hunger and rage.
Claudia forced Grace to stop as she cogitated, the spinning pattern that indicated she was thinking on one of the sub-screens. “This gene-gineer facility looks to have been contaminated.” Claudia reported. “An optimally-functioning facility produces beef, pig, or poultry. Analysis in progress.”
Grace snapped back, “No shit it has been contaminated, I can hear these fucking things being born. Contaminated by what?”
“Analysis in progress.” Claudia repeated. “Please stand by.”
Grace sighed, “You can be an ass.”
One of those disgusting rat-things dropped from the ceiling and struck Grace’s Smirtka, slithering down the front of her stealthed suit with a squeal.
Grace nearly gagged as these things somehow smelled even worse right out the vat. “Claudia, hurry the fuck up and see if you can find the control console.”
“Analysis in progress, please wait.” Claudia replied, and then projected a map of the facility. “Power controls should be located...” She paused as a path was helpfully added to the map.
Grace went down to the path, carefully avoiding any monsters. The only saving grace was that the noise and commotion from human sized rats being born overpowered any noise Grace made along with distracting the shrieks.
“Analysis completed. Theory: A rat- or a number of them- contaminated the gene vats, eventually giving birth to what we see here.” Claudia reported.
Grace approached the console and said, “Ok, Claudia, connect to it and see what you can do without kicking the hornet’s nest.”
“Restoring power.” Claudia chimed as all the lights in the facility kicked on at once.
The vats burbled, thick bubbles rising through the liquids as some unknown machinery sloshed and churned. The Shrieks lived up to their name, screeching loudly as the industrial lighting flared to life.
The vats immediately kicked in, and more of them birthed themselves from the vats in rapidly increasing numbers.
“Claudia, what the fuck are you doing?!”, Grace yelled in panic.
Claudia simply replied, “Fixing the problem.”
Grace simply said, “Shut it down and get weapons ready!”
Claudia, in an annoyed tone, said, “Wait five fucking seconds! Emergency purge in progress. I am trying to drown them.”
Suddenly, a shriek jumped behind Grace and took a deep breath, ready to announce the discovery of prey. Grace, in response, deployed a blade into its throat in an attempt to silence it. Blood fountained in a gush, drenching Claudia.
“Stealth inoperative.” Claudia reported. “Weapons free and hot, plasma ordinance coming online.”
Grace rejected that, “No to plasma!” Claudia countermanded.
“Switching to Custodian-class weaponry.” Claudia agreed.
“Negative on that as well.” Grace replied.
Claudia seemed surprised, “... Why?”
Grace simply said, “We need this building intact. Give me everything that spits fire.” More monsters could be heard rushing to Grace.
Claudia, ever the master of bad timing said, “Incendiary rounds?”
Grace simply yelled, “NO!”
Claudia followed Grace’s instructions and flame throwers were activated and Grace braced herself for the monsters to reach and attack her. As giant rat teeth greeted Grace, she returned in kind with steel and fire. She stabbed, sliced, burned, and crushed roughly twenty shrieks before she had a chance to catch her breath. Luckily, Claudia’s stunt had seemingly bought her a break in the wave as she made her way to the gene-vat.
“The vat liquid appears to be nutrient-rich.” Claudia idly reported as her flamethrowers sterilized the gene-gineer facility. “You could drink it, if you were inclined.”
Grace frowned, “Imma make you watch one of John’s documentaries when we get home.”
Claudia did not like this idea, “No, please!”
Grace seemed adamant on this punishment, “Nope, he has one he has been dying to show me on rivet manufacturing techniques. I think you would like it.” Claudia continued to protest in vain while Grace went forward.
Strangely enough, the path seemed to be light on shrieks; there were only a handful when there had been tens. Grace said, “I thought there were more along this path.
“Thermal bloom located half a kilometer along our exit path.” Claudia suddenly reported, ignoring the threat. “Profile suggests fellow Smirtka.”
Grace grew anxious, “Check the ID, make sure it isn’t a traitor.”
“Negative ID; possible stealth package obscuring IFF signal.” Claudia reported.
Grace sighed, “Reactivate stealth and be prepared for a fight.” Grace went dark and inched forward slowly, prepared to potentially deal with a traitor. Though, a part of her would be glad to dispatch what she considered the worst type of person.
Grace made her way outside the facility and found roasted shrieks. “Claudia, are you sure they aren’t around?”
Clauida simply returned a dry response, “I am sure the signal is gone, they could have simply deployed stealth like we did.”
Grace nodded, “Understood, can we contact the Cathedral?”
Claudia went silent as she tried to hail the Cathedral, but said, “Nope out of range.”
Grace looked around, “Odds of it being a traitor.”
Claudia sighed, “Not zero. However, it seems they were disposing of the Shrieks who attempted to flee.”
Grace asked, “Which means?”
Claudia simply replied, “They didn’t want them getting out. Either to protect the Hive or maybe in an attempt to cover up their tracks.”
Grace shook her head, “Doesn’t seem likely.”
Claudia, in a bit of a sassy tone, said, “Like I said, odds aren’t zero.”
Grace waited around for a few minutes, seeing if the signal would return as she tapped her foot, “Fine, we will finish up here discreetly, quickly, then report back.” With that, Grace hunted down any remaining shrieks and secured the facility.
Grace returned to Abigail's office with a mission report in tow; Jeanne was ahead of her, handing off a mission chip. Jeanne gave Grace a nod as she left the Abbess’ office.
Grace highlighted the mysterious Smirtka in her direct report to Abigail, who nodded thoughtfully.
“There’ll be plenty more missions for you soon enough. Get your Smirtka hosed down with disinfectants and stand by.”