The Codex
Codex Entry No. 11, “Martian Combat Armor”
Martian combat armor has three broad classifications: heavy, plated, and tactical. Tactical armor is a throw-back to the combat gear used by soldiers through the prior century of war. They include bump helmets, body armor, and trauma kits. Generally there is little difference between the Martian versions of this gear and any other, at least during the early part of my career.
Plated armor was my preferred type. It didn’t have any advanced exoskeleton enhancements and was the standard for extravehicular activities (EVA) in a wide variety of environments. Plated armors consisted of a metal plate placed over a specially designed gel designed to absorb and dissipate force. The plating on later models were designed to disperse energy weapon shots. The armor plated would be sealed onto an armored body glove and would traditionally carry a variety of equipment on the belt of the armor and across a variety of pouches across the armor.
Heavy armor was easily the most famous kind of armor in the Martian arsenal. It consisted of many heavier plates as I described above placed over an exo-skeleton. Users of this armor could left trucks like a liter of milk and run at speeds of forty kilometers a second for up to ten minutes. Of course, these armors required consistent maintenance and were a bear to keep in good order in certain field conditions. Generally, such armors were custom pieces and were only used by elite groups of Martian military personnel.
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Chapter 12, “Reunion”
“It’s been said that fact is stranger than fiction. I can think of no life that applies to more than we survivors of Titan,” Riku Ito at his inauguration speech as Commandant of Mars.
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I had only a millisecond to take stock of my situation before I had to move. I counted four enemy combatants, three in standard Earth combat gear with rifles, and one with special cybernetic augmentations and a side-arm. To my right and left were thick stone columns that lined the whole of the entry hall, and I elected to dive behind the one on my left for cover. I just barely had time to pull my foot back before a hail of suppressing fire from a rifle drummed the column enough that I suspected the soft stone would only hold for a minute or so.
The tips of my ears tingled briefly as footfalls reached them through the sound of suppressing fire, a sign that the three of the combatants were positioning themselves to surround me.
I’m not the trained military professional here, but I think a retreat may be in order, Zeus advised.
I had no objections, and looked to the window in front of me. Only a few cracked panes of glass remained in the tall, wrought iron frame, and the gaps were more than enough for me to slip out. As I leapt from my hiding spot to the gap, I learned one of the features the Frankenstein-woman had been upgraded with.
With a third of my body out of the window and my face traveling towards the hedge outside, I felt something jerk at me heel and I was forced back in, my body jerking with the sudden opposite force and my shoulder banging on the wrought iron window pane as I traveled. Thankfully I was armored, but it was still uncomfortable enough to make me grunt.
I twisted in midair and managed to land on my feet, pulling a grenade free from my belt and dropping it at my feet as smoke started gushing out, obscuring me. Activating thermal vision from my eyes I drew my own sidearm and fired off eight shots. The three regulars dropped quickly, my shots hitting them in their unarmored necks or eyes. Normally I wouldn’t have tried for such shots, but thanks to Zeus’ aid with my coordination and reflexes it was easy.
My last two shots, the ones aimed at the Frankenstein-woman, bounced off her skin and revealed a silvery substance underneath.
Sub-dermal armor, Zeus determined, strong stuff too. You’ll need to cut her airway, or gas her. We likely don’t have anything that can punch through all of that armor, Zeus admitted, as time slowed and the woman started to take her first step in a mad dash towards me.
Why is she trying to close the distance? The sensible thing would be to reload, I thought as I noted the spare magazines on her vest.
My inquiries would have to wait as the woman was on me faster than she should’ve been. Forced to backpedal and dodge, I found myself engaging the first level of my overclocking program to keep up, my own weapon useless against her armor and her movements too fast to get the same easy shots at her soft spots as I’d done earlier.
Seeing an opening as I neared another column, I ducked a wild punch from the woman’s natural arm, put my sidearm into the woman’s armpit and pulled the trigger with all I had in me. Hot pain shot through my arm, and drawing away as the pain dulled by Zeus’ tampering, I looked down to see a large chunk of my hand was missing, though the bones of metal remained even as the flesh started to regenerate.
Estimated regeneration time: four minutes. You will need to eat heavily after this, Zeus reminded me as I considered my options.
Now, some people like to use words like “honor” and “bravery” when they talk about things they did on the battlefield. Most of those people are full of crap. I knew I could regenerate and I still was on the verge of shitting myself as I pivoted on my heel and exercised the better part of valor.
I only made it three steps before I heard a pained cry and I found myself tumbling to the floor as my feet were pulled out from under me. Looking down, I saw that the center of the woman’s tentacle arm had some kind of line-launcher in it. At my ankle was a claw like device that the line was attached to.
I kicked the claw off with a grunt and rolled to keep the woman’s knee from landing on my skull. Trinium or not, I didn’t want to find out how much force it would take to give me a concussion. Pushing up to my feet, I reached down to my hip and found my side arm missing. Instead of looking around for it, I kept my eyes focused on my opponent and drew a combat knife from my belt.
Zeus, what are the odds they armored her eyes or her ears? I asked as I sprinted, the world slowing to a crawl around me as charged the rampaging woman.
Not high. Those areas are difficult to reinforce, Zeus confirmed.
That was all I needed to hear, and as I bounded up to the woman I struck upwards with an open palm inside of her guard. Her head jerked left and exposed her ear which I rammed my knife into and was rewarded with a scream like that of an animal.
I was so caught up in that moment that I barely noticed the flailing tentacles swing towards me, forcing me to drop to the floor.
The woman stumbled around, like a drunk around a bar, in a circle before collapsing to the ground. Slowly walking over, I confirmed by putting my fingers to her neck and checking for a pulse, “Dead”.
Now that you have that handled, I think you should proceed with more caution, Zeus advised.
I am. Running into that woman was an extraordinary coincidence. I don’t think that was an accident. I expected, I noted, walking over to my pistol and putting it back into my holster.
I’m sure more cautious people would’ve turned around and headed back to the Vault, but I had good reason for not doing so. First was that whoever was expecting me could’ve planted some sort of tracking device on me, and the second- Well, there is no better way to deal with a trap than to choose how you spring it.
Walking around the entry hall, I browsed several of the screens and terminals to see they were all broken and their data-transfer cables had been ripped out of the wall.
Someone is trying to deny me access to the local network, I determined, continuing to browse for additional clues as to what to expect. My eyes came to rest upon the cyborg woman in the center of the room.
She’s someone I dealt with easily before and has advanced cybernetics which made her much more formidable. She didn’t behave like a soldier though. She behaves more like-
I stopped and turned the corpse over. Sure enough on the back of her was a familiar control device, the same kind I’d seen on Riku in orbit.
The Good Doctor may have some hand in this, Zeus mused, and here I had hoped we were done with her games.
Even if the doctor from the ship did something like this, I don’t think she has the foresight to rip out all the data cables I can easily get my hands on, I argued, she had help.
Hannah and the Doctor then? Zeus tried.
Very likely, I agreed, I’ve pissed both of them off badly enough, and putting people out front like this… It wasn’t supposed to kill me. I’m either being tested, in which case I think the Doctor is leading, or I’m being worn down by Hannah.
Worn down? You’ve barely broken a sweat, Zeus noted.
I’m down a combat knife, one magazine of ammunition for my suppressed weapon, and all of the weapons dropped by the people I just took down are loud by any standard, I noted.
I see your point… These aren’t typical Earth arms from what we’ve seen so far, Zeus agreed, then asking, do you really want to walk into a trap? That seems… Unwise.
When you know you are walking into a trap you gain a key advantage. You look for things you normally wouldn’t and have a kind of heightened awareness. Sometimes when you are in a bad situation, just knowing you are in a bad situation makes everything better, I explained.
Zeus clearly didn’t get it, but some human concepts do pass by Synthetics as strange. I don’t fault him for it.
Advancing deeper into the academic building I couldn’t help but internally chuckle as I passed by the remains of a painting.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
If you had asked any faculty member of the Academy what the painting was, they would’ve proudly claimed it was a piece by some great painter bought and donated to the Academy by the Maine family. That was only somewhat true though.
In reality it was a fake painting my family had bought. Well, one particular Maine. Me.
At the age of 14 I was just about to leave Mars when I’d come up with an idea to assure my success at the Academy. Using some borrowed passwords and money from pawning various household items that nobody would miss I bought the painting, an ugly thing in my opinion, and quickly sent word to the academy as my aunt that I wanted to donate it.
They were delighted, of course, and made the arrangements for it to be specially carried.
If I didn’t know better I’d say this whole damned experience is the universe getting back at me for the things I’ve done wrong, I thought with a grimace as I looked away from the ruined fake.
Seven months before I was due to depart Mars for Titan, I grew anxious.
What if I’m really as pathetic as my family tells me? What if I can’t make my way? What if…
Plagued by doubt, I promised myself that one way or another I would make it. I looked into the mirror and told myself that I would do whatever it took to break away from the
Maine family. I knew doing so wasn’t easy, as what I needed was a rank and position that would keep me away from my family’s primary spheres of influence and enough
resources to be sure that their Units wouldn’t hold any power over me.
Mars had three major paths to move up in society in my younger days.. You could be a great researcher or inventor, you could found a construction firm and get lucrative contracts, or you could become an officer in a military or security branch. Aware of my own status and background, I chose the path of least resistance and opted for the last of those. Still, being a Maine wasn’t something I was in a hurry to trade on, and so I knew I needed more on Titan. I needed an edge of some sort, something that once I made my way into the competitive environment on TItan would help me day-in and day-out. It didn’t take me long to come up with a plan.
My family had a number of expensive items around our properties, among them being several pieces of art from a pre-war artist that were worth a fortune. Riku’s dad, Ibasa Ito, had long wanted a particular piece called “Midnight Rain” that my aunt kept stashed away and refused to trade him for the sole reason that she didn’t consider him “worthy” of the piece. Since Riku and I were good friends, Ibasa was very open to the idea of having the piece in a clandestine fashion.
My aunt had Midnight Rain taken down every time she hosted an event at our family building, so it was a small matter for me to take it and sell it to Ibasa. With that money I bought another piece, the disgusting one which I passed on Titan, and donated a fake version of it. That fake was actually a disguised set of plans for several of the more important buildings in the academy which I'd created specially in case I needed to get somewhere without being seen. It had been my secret to success for years, and now it was in tatters.
A trap isn’t as useful when the prey is aware of it, I informed Zues, I take it tactics were not a specialty of yours on Earth?
They may have been, Zeus answered, part of my agreement with the other A.I. was to expunge certain suites of programming and destroy areas of my memory. Military command and tactical advise, at the moment, is beyond me. Now, I have sorted through some memories of yours, but I have tried not to pry to deeply in that manner. It’s considered impolite between A.I. and their partnered organics… Why is it that you speak with such experience at your age?
With a grimace I honestly replied, Earth breeds monsters, and one such example is the Maine family.
Zeus’ confusion was plainly felt through ourt link, and I internally chuckled before asking, Why so surprised?
The Maines I knew were paragons of military tradition’s best parts, Zeus said, what did they do to you?
They put me through what they went through. I wasn’t as strong as they were, but thank God I’ve laways healed faster. It’s the only Maine trait I have, well, had, I corrected as I thought on my new gifts.
Children trained into soldiers for the sake of tradition… I suppose there is a cold logic to that. Still, your hatred of your family seems unnatural, Zeus said.
I was the weakest Maine, I admitted, my body was just that of a regular Martian save for the fact that I healed a lot faster than the others. I healed breaks faster than even a full blooded Maine.
That is likely why my subroutines flagged you as the best candidate then, Zeus guessed, that healing is likely why you survived the alterations done to you as well as you did. The level of reconstruction which was done to you… It should’ve been a month before you woke up. I was surprised it took only a few days.
I was very familiar with the administration building. My first week on Titan I’d been summoned here to meet with the President in honor of my family name. At the end of the first week I was called back after showing up three combat instructors in spars, the last of which had his arm broken in two places when he pressed our spar too far. By the end of my first month on Titan I’d been in this building at least twelve times.
It was on the final occasion during that first month that the President and the Dean of the School of Intelligence met with me and informed me that I would be removed from the standard training program and put into a more tailored version which would see me spend all six years of my education in the School of Intelligence.
Once a month I would be tutored by my school’s Dean in “softer subjects” as she called them. Politics, economics, classic literature, and cinema were all favorites of hers to lecture me on or introduce me to. She was- She was a great woman. I miss her to this day. Her office was in the part of the building that had been totally ruined though so I couldn’t even stop by for sentiment’s sake.
The all clear beacon was controlled from a panel in the President’s office, and so as I headed up the stairs I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and a chill go through my spine. At the very top of the stairs I saw something that let the cold spread through my blood.
So many bodies, I thoguht, looking at the corpses laid along the side of the halls in plastic bags.
The bags were vacuum sealed, so I couldn’t see who was in them, but I had no doubt that Iknew many of them. The dried blood stains and bullet holes on the walls made my jaw clench and my teeth grind as I decided, Whoever thought to trap me is going to be in for a rude sort of surprise.
With each step I took my steps seemed to grow louder in my ears. My boots grew heavier on my feet, as though they were the weighted sort I’d worn in training. At last I came to a stop.
What’s wrong, Thomas? Zeus asked.
I loved this place, I replied, I loved the people here. I felt like I had found myself here and now- now it’s ruins and a pile of corpses. These people- These people were taken from me… I can’t have them back. I can’t have the place I love back, can I?
Sittin on the desk flanked by two Mandroids on either side was Hannah. She wore no armor and instead one of our school uniforms.
Her eyes flashed gold when I walked in, and a grin spread across her face as I froze in the doorway, my hand hovering over my side-arm.
“I take it that’s you, Thomas,” Hannah said with a superior smile, “I recognize those movements.”
Keep calm and figure out how to escape, Zeus advised, I’ve shut off all wireless devices on the armor so we don’t have to worry about any interference from her.
“Bold of you not to come armored,” I began my eyes darting around the room, “are you thinking I”m not going to put up a fight?”
“I’m hoping not,” Hannah admitted to which Zeus and I thought in perfect tandem, What?
“...We are both clear that you are an A.I. bearing traitor who just made me march past a hall full of corpses, right?” I asked as my eyes landed on a metal panel on the desk she was sitting on, one off to the left which I knew to have a large number of switches on it.
“Thomas, you don’t understand,” Hannah began, “I’m doing this for the public good! I’m helping free Mars from families built on wealth older than any of the nation states on Earth.”
With a snort I focused my eyes on the Mandroids and asked Zeus to see what he could figure out about them as I engaged with Hannah, “Liberation is rarely the true intent of any war. Containment and eradication are often window-dressed with that term while regular people suffer. That’s the lesson of any history book worth the paper it’s printed on.”
Hannah frowned, cocked her head, and asked, “Then why do you think I’m doing this?”
“Position, power, wealth, misplaced faith, and a naive heart,” I judged, finishing my slander with a shrug before I offered, “take your pick.”
Those aren’t any kind of Mandroids I’m familiar with, Thomas. If I had to guess though, based on what I’m seeing they are
Sitting atop the desk in a lounge position was Hannah. She wore no armor, and bore no weapons. Instead she was clohted in our academy uniform, and wore her hair up in a tight bun as was the standard for cadets. She didn’t have mandroids with her this time, but something about her posture and smirk suggested that drawing my weapon would be a poor choice, despite my urges to do so.
“Thomas,” she greeted, “You’ve come at last.”
Zeus, do you have anything? I asked. The A.I. was quiet, an reaching back into my mind I found he was blocked from me, as though someone had put up a glass wall between us within my mind.
My frustration must’ve shown in my body language because Hannah advised, “You won’t be able to contact your A.I. right now. I can’t speak with mine either. It’s just us, Tom.”
With a sigh, I shook my head, pulled off my helmet, and looked at her so that our eyes locked before the question I’d most wanted to ask for so long bubbled from my lips with hiss.
“Why did you do this?”
Hannah grimaced and with a sigh said, “I tried to spare you some of the pain of this when I realized you were alive. Had I known you already had an A.I. though I would’ve tried a different route… I’ve done this for myself. For you. For history.”
Rolling my eyes I said, “That’s great, Shakespeare, but we both know I don’t have the patience for double-talk. Speak concretely or I’ll reconsider blowing you away.”
Hannah laughed, throwing her head back and then as she calmed down shrugged as she gave me a mischievous look and bid, “Try it.”
I hesitated and Hannah urged, “C’mon! Shoot me! I know you-” Four high powered shots found a home in her chest, ripping through her and sending her over the edge of the desk. I’d drawn, fired, and I realized from the thunder of my heartbeat that I’d activated the first level of overclocking without Zeus’ help.
It took only a second before Hannah stood back up though, and I noted that her chest didn’t have blossoms of red, but blue. My eyes widened as she laughed and asked,
“Thomas, what do you think you are going to do with that thing? Put it away.”
Gritting my teeth and keeping my weapon levelled at her I asked, “What the Hell are you?”
“The same thing as you,” She replied happily, defining, “Altered. I’m a Martian who underwent changes via an experimental nano-augmentation process. The trick is that I underwent those changes roughly eight months ago on a practice operation.”
She chuckled and said, “But that’s not what’s important right now. I tended to our dead, as you saw, and I’ve kept Earth from finding the Vault. I’ve even shut off the “all-clear” beacon and destroyed all equipment which could’ve recorded our meeting.”
She brushed some unseen filth off her uniform, straightened it and then said, “I’ve helped you a good deal today, Thomas. Remember that when we see each other next.”
With that she nsapped and a spike of pure pain ran though my head. My eyes screwed up in pain as I let out a scream that ran my throat raw. After a few moments though it stopped and Hannah was gone. AS I stood up, Zeus spoke, It would seem there is more to that girl than we suspected. Interesting…
Are you alright? I asked the A.I. as I moved around the desk and checked the panel there.
Fine. I could hear and see everything, but I couldn’t talk to you, Zeus noted, I will need to investigate a way to curtail that in the future. It would seem she wasn’t lying about the beacon though.
The beacon, based on what the read-out said, was off. Well, disabled would be a better way to put it.
It looks like someone already sabotaged the beacon. The read here says it was a power failure… That wouldv’e been what I would’ve done had I not been able to shut the beacon down from here, I noted.
You have an opponent who knows you. She’s playing with us, Zeus sourly reminded me.
There wasn’t any point of sticking around, so I quickly turned around and began making my way back to the vault.
If the all-clear beacon is off then all we have to do is hold out until Martian forces get here, I thought with some relief, that should be doable.
In the elevator to the vault I noticed an odd rattling that wasn’t there the last time I went down, and frowned when the car slowed much faster than it should have, throwing me to the floor.
“Dammit, what now?” I muttered as I rose. Looking around I didn’t see an emergency panel to call anyone, but I did hear a clattering outside the car, one like many tiny feet
dancing around. Drawing my pistol, I pulled up my thermal vision and noticed several long, insectoid heat signatures outside the car.
It would appear we have some fresh pit of Hell that we’ve walked into, Zeus said with an internal sigh.
The section of metal above me started to hiss and a clear liquid dripped down in front of me and started eating away at the floor.
No, no, no! I thought, panicking as I raised my weapon and began firing into the hole above my head where one of the insectoid creatures was sitting above me.