“Why do you think we were made?”
Number three only laughed.
Alfred jumped in first, helpful as ever.
“Do you want the documentation?”
“No, thank you. I appreciate the sentiment though. I know we were commissioned as weapons to kill God-Emperor Xex.”
Alfred’s other half was silent, brooding. On the mission at hand and the question simultaneously.
“If you want my honest opinion, Peaches? It’s because a genius had an ego, and the gods had an impossible goal to help feed that ego. Hubris and hatred mixed up into a beautiful cocktail, eh?”
X-3 was as boisterous and loudmouthed as ever.
“Three, there is also the possibility of Shifter’s changing motivations throughout the various renditions of the project.”
The retort came as quickly as expected.
“That right there is exactly it though, Al! When you have powers, sciences, and technologies the very gods can only dream of, why continue working towards a contract that should have expired the moment the Guardians betrayed him by putting a bounty on his head?”
“Mad scientists are more than a trope…”
Alfred was interrupted by his partner.
“We don’t have time for this. We rift in less than fifteen minutes.”
The younger of the two. The weapon’s flesh and metal body. Checking and rechecking wrist blades and plasma weapons. The Jackhammer’s spinning barrels. Various equipment and systems. Microscopic machines moved in waves of grey across the undersuit – shaping dark red and grey hematic armor plates into different configurations.
Three adjusted his enormous hammer, allowing the head to clunk to the floor. Then they leaned forwards on the handle. The heavily graffitied faceplate of their suit was almost leering.
“Some of us have more time than others.”
The bald angel, rail thin, lifted their head, sky blue eyes catching the corner of the weapon’s cybernetic prosthetic.
“What does that mean?”
Peaches didn’t know. Innocent. Ignorant. Naive. Poor little X-4.
“Three was created when The Doctor tried to break into another universe. Luckily enough, at least for every other reality layered on top of this one, he failed. Instead, Shifter ended up crushing the entirety of that universe into Three. He expensed Three as the final iteration of the Xex project under The G.O.D. as Shifter, and then went into hiding with all of his knowledge and research when the gods were demonstrably pissed that he almost ended existence.”
Peaches’ jawline dropped.
Three sighed and leaned back again, pushing the hammer’s long handle back and forth.
“Side effect of being a kajillion dead people? I leave the suit’s safe zone and I’ll start to fizzle out of existence. Shifter told me once that if it happened completely before I could get back in the suit or stabilized somehow? I might accidentally Big Bang. Hopefully back into the universe I’m made of and not this one.”
“I’m sorry, Three…”
The angel showed genuine remorse and empathy. A gentle soul.
“It’s okay Peaches. I got over it a long time ago.”
“So why would you work for Shifter now? Is it just to save Venomous?”
The loudspeaker and comms clicked on. Captain Ross began chattering about preparations being made – preparing the battlecruiser for a rift alongside the two escort frigates.
“We’re out of time. We need to finish suiting up and get ready to drop.”
“I’m ready.”
“Me too.”
A silent affirmation in their shared consciousness from Alfred.
“Then let’s save the soul-searching for when we’re dead, and go save our sister, eh? To the hangar!”
Three was clearly itching for a fight.
The whole scenario was less than ideal, as it usually was.
A single battlecruiser and two escorts against The Black Armada’s unknown quantity. The only certainties? A mining rig. A location out in the Neutral Territories. Hyko Ories being involved somehow. Adopted son of Emperor Xex himself of course. The God of Rage.
The trio walked down the corridors towards the hangar – where a wing of Agatha Transports was waiting alongside two squads of Blue Flame. The goal was a tactical insertion as covertly as possible down into the mining rig, stationed as it was inside the asteroid belt.
From there? A rescue of Venomous wherever she had ended up.
Or… At least as a backup, coordinates or hostages to hopefully tell them wherever else she might have been taken.
Somewhere in this mess, Shifter had slipped up. He had sent Venomous into danger with only her shapeshifting to keep her safe. Yet no matter how many bone-blades X-5 could shape or eject, she was only as immortal as the rest of them – as hearty as any other god in Central.
Had Shifter sent her to kill The God of Rage? Capture him? Spy on him?
With the head of The Xex Project, one hardly ever knew. So willing as Shifter was to throw people away – always towards greater ends and means. Always eager for a new project, a new angle, a new technology, a new knowledge. Even new people, whether he created them or not.
Venomous was vulnerable. But Hyko Ories or not, even gods could most certainly be killed. They often committed suicide, even, to avoid capture and interrogation. A gruesome prospect when one considered that it was much easier to hurt those who healed quickly and proved resilient to damage.
Venomous was even more-so. Master of her own flesh and bone, she contorted, mimicked, and shapestole with ease. A pile of flesh and bone to an angry grizzly bear in the span of seconds.
Or worse.
When one is only limited by imagination as to their form, even Ultimate, the terrifying beast known as X-2, paled in comparison to the horrors Venomous could produce.
Yet she had still been captured.
What gruesome wounds and psychological tortures had she endured in the mere week it took to organize this rescue? Both X-1 and Alfred knew the grim truths of Armada capture.
To hold fast against the lengths The Black Armada was famed for going to?
Alfred nudged their thinking away from the possibilities, and back towards the now.
“So, how do these Blue Flame jarheads stack up? I’ve fought Guardians and Armada, but I’ve never got into a beef with your Resistance Army, One.”
Alfred took point for the duo.
“They are people devoted to the cause of freedom. Freedom from all the immortals who claim superiority over the rest of us here in Central. So I’m sure a rescue mission against the hated Black Armada will only embolden them further towards heroism. I want everyone to come home safe, as much as I know the probabilities for such a feat.”
Three grinned.
“Well, not sure how somebody with slightly better gear and armor than your average G.O.D. grunt-Shocktrooper can stack up against Harlequins and Dread Knights.”
Peaches placed a warm hand on Three’s cold armor. Couldn’t help but fill notches and cracks in armor and bolster flesh and spirit with their healing even whilst being unaware of doing so.
“Hands to hold a weapon against tyranny are the weapon we need the most in Central.”
The distorted voice within the joint suit/prison let out a disdainful huff and walked faster, clearly tired of the Resistance rhetoric.
“Simmer down, Starchild! Save it for Ories.”
The weapon’s voice echoed down the corridor as the heavy thumping of boots on the floor clomped further and further ahead towards the hangar.
“Don’t mind him, Peaches. He still holds several grudges that taint his thinking.”
The angel ruffled their wings and rolled their shoulders, taking the time to run fingers through the feathers of a wing in a sort of preening.
“I feel bad for them.”
“Don’t. You don’t know their kill count.”
A line of seething tiny machines, gunmetal grey, oozed out to undo the hardening of flesh Peaches’ mere presence had generated. Returning the weapon’s organic and machine form towards factory defaults.
The trio finished the journey just as the rift engines were firing up, with the reverberations rumbling heartily across the length of the ship. The well-lit hangar was stocked with the standard equipment, ranging from the Resistance’s tried and true exoskeleton suits to zero-atmosphere modified Harbingers in the heavier armor department. In addition to the ever-fashionable Agatha, standardized with few variations across the factions, there were a smattering of Sophies and Tabethas, as well as a wide variety of retrofitted, yet aging SW-80 Protectors.
Five Agathas had been spared for the mission, along with two Harbingers and two Protectors as escorts. The Harbingers’ pilots had already suited up and clamped their enormous mechanical limbs onto heavy rails above the side-sliding doors. Lethal high-ordinance weaponry hung in the metal vice-grip opposite.
The Blue Flame was ready, doors waiting to be closed and sealed against vacuum.
All that was left was to board and rift.
Captain Ross would rift Jubilant Mirth – the battlecruiser they prepped inside, into place on the far side of the asteroid belt, dropping off the small strike force subtly and then drawing as many Armada as they could up along the debris fields of the belt. From there, the frigates Ghost Prism and Charlemagne’s Reinterpretation would split off and scatter the Armada forces as much as possible before all three escort craft would rift out of the system.
Pickup was set for five hours after the initial dropoff point.
There would likely only be one shot at the strike force’s extraction.
Ideally, they’d catch neither hide nor hair of Hyko Ories – making it cleanly in and out of the rig before the Armada could even react. That way they could flee along the orbit of the asteroid belt back the opposite direction and be picked up before being killed or captured.
It was a risky plan, with three X Project siblings in attendance to rescue a single other. The combined cost in Guardian or Armada credits for such an endeavour if they failed completely would be several large fleets combined, and that would just be accounting for the siblings, not the ships or equipment they drug down to hell with them.
Yet.
What was sacrifice without family?
Especially when you had no choice in the traumas you and your siblings had faced together?
Weapons or not. It needed to be done.
Shifter be damned.
They split themselves amongst two Agathas, with Alfred and his onboard partner in one and Peaches and Three riding in another. The rumbling of the rift generator persisted, as the nine war machines hissed to life with a crescendo of fusion reactors and lifted gently off the hangar floor.
They perched there, held aloft in the artificial gravity well Jubilant Mirth projected downwards beneath them. Watched as the white crackling energy of the rift passed by outside the permeable energy barriers protecting the hangar from the cold void of space.
Time to go.
The moment the rift had passed by the hangar, the Agathas launched outwards, armor hissing as they passed through the blue barrier and into the abyss. No sooner had they arranged themselves carefully in a line along the underside of the battlecruiser, than Captain Ross came over the encrypted battlenet.
“We’re seeing the belt on our port, Sir. Moving to coast us gently in formation along the outside of the debris field. Once we confirm enemy contact or catch sight of the rig, drop into the asteroid field and make your insertion. We’ll make as much noise as we can and give them one hell of a flyby.”
“Thanks, Ross.”
The line of pilots perched upside down – the only visible realm being through the cockpit windshield. Minutes passed silently.
“Two Tyrants, patrolling the belt.”
“Yep, FoFs tagged each other. Moving to engage.”
Rumbles as the ship beneath the magnetic clamps shifted and the engines pushed harder. A sudden shuddering as the railgun on the bow alongside missiles and anti-ship batteries opened up. Red square FoF Tags had appeared on helmets and visors across the five transports.
Tiny and distant squares, beyond the hulk of the battlecruiser they were adhered to like remoras.
“Tyrant one down, Tyrant two is retreating. We’ve definitely stirred the hornet’s nest Sir. Orders?”
“Follow it back, Jubilant.”
“Yes Sir. Seeing gun batteries. Sparse, but definitely more fighters and equipment moving to intercept. Change of plans? Not seeing any heavy air support.”
More red squares popping into sight.
“Green light to engage, Captain.”
Jubilant Mirth listed to the side, as the three Resistance starships launched fighters, armor, equipment, and salvoes of missiles and battery fire in unison against the sparse Black Armada forces. The battlenet was quickly filled with chatter alongside green triangles denoting allied units.
“Fourth wing moving to intercept.”
“Second wing is down.”
“Bank! Bank!”
A sea of voices echoed as Alfred filtered each new communication in and out through the duo’s head. From the HUD embedded in their artificial eye, triangles and squares interlaced, popping in and out of existence beyond the bulk of the battlecruiser as equipment was marked or destroyed.
“Sir, new contact. Specialized armor. Could be Ories. Leading a counterattack from the rig.”
“We’ve lost batteries twelve, twenty four, and twenty seven.”
“Engage, engage!”
“On my tail, I can-”
The cacophony was overwhelming.
“RAILGUN!”
The battlecruiser shuddered, as a streak of light from somewhere within the asteroid field arced out and connected with the Jubilant Mirth. The oval plasma shielding rippled outwards from the impact point like those in a still pond.
A glancing blow, but clearly a warning against any prolonged engagement.
“Incoming!”
Another shudder, and a wing of Tyrant fighters raced by the line of Agathas, hidden as they were along the underside of the ship. They banked, moving to make another pass – this time at the transports perched beneath.
Alfred had already plotted trajectories, there was no doubt as to their target.
“We need to go. Pilots, get us into the debris!”
The Agathas released from the hull with a nigh simultaneous clunking of magnetic clamps.
“Ross, give them all you’ve got! Cover our approach.”
The two Protectors had already spun to engage, as heavy guns from the two Harbingers on the rearmost Aggie began chattering backwards as best they could.
“We’re made, Ross. I’m gonna need some extra escorts, here!”
“Clear hangar five, get everything airborne! Defend the commander’s Agatha transport at all costs.”
The daisy chain of Aggies was at full speed, thrusters maxed to try and flee into the precariously orbiting fields of rock and metal off to the port side. Other Armada armor was beginning to converge, sensing some sort of trick with this sudden appearance.
Only the furious efforts of the air support from the three starships and their equipment prevented an outright rout.
“Commander, this is Peregrine – Tyrants down, moving to the flank.”
The two Protectors rejoined on either side of the Agatha formation, as the first transport ducked into the spaces between floating rock. The rattling of the Harbinger’s chainguns continued, muted against the outer hull and rails.
“Get us to the rig, pilot. Slow and steady. Could be anything hiding in here.”
Movement became stilted as the pilots ducked into the asteroid belt, slowly picking their way one at a time through the hazards. It was slow going, waiting for collisions and blockades to clear every so often.
“Ories is coming straight for us, Captain! We need support!”
“He’s going for the engines! All fighters, defensive positions!”
Someone tried to speak, only to be drowned out by the sound of an explosion before the feed cut out.
“Charlemagne’s Reinterpretation is dead in the water, move to intercept!”
“This is Silver Wing, that railgun clipped her engines, Captain. She’s got no thrust. We’ve got her.”
The FoF tags were fluctuating wildly, with the larger green triangle behind them denoting the frigate emblazoned with a new orange exclamation mark. Engines and rift generators were always a prime target in ship to ship combat.
“Ross, we’ll handle the railgun – mop up as much as you can.”
Three’s voice over the comms. Alfred was already on it.
“Three, we need to stay on-mission.”
“I’ll take it out. Peaches, keep my armor safe.”
Alfred opened up a camera feed from the other Aggie’s cargo bay across the bottom left of the HUD. A shimmering golden light in the shape of a human form was emerging from the back of Three’s graffiti-laden suit of armor. Radiation levels spiked briefly, before it promptly vanished through several Blue Flame Troopers and the Agatha’s side-door and out somewhere into the vacuum.
“I can’t tag him.”
“Fuck.”
They continued, listening to the sounds of battle over the battlenet as they anxiously awaited news of X-3’s success or failure.
Five tense minutes passed, with the Reinterpretation getting hammered the whole while. It didn’t look good for the small escort frigate. Unlike the larger battlecruiser Jubilant Mirth, neither of the frigates had plasma shielding.
That’s when Three emerged back through the side of the other Agatha and settled back into his suit.
“Railgun’s dealt with.”
“What happened?”
Three was stretching and adjusting himself inside the suit of armor. One knew from prior experience that it was painful for them to be outside the armor in this reality.
“Had it set up from the rig itself. They might know we’re coming from the turrets and armor I blew up with particle beams. Tapped myself out though. Knocked out a support strut to push it out of alignment. They can’t do much but fire it out into empty space now.”
The weapon could feel Alfred’s relief.
“Captain Wu? What’s happening?”
Silence, and then moments later a shockwave of force that pushed both asteroids and Agathas deeper towards the center of the asteroid belt.
“Commander, we lost Charlemagne’s Reinterpretation. Looks like Hyko’s work via whatever that new red machine or suit is.”
“We’re almost at the rig, Captain. Prep your rift generator. Three dealt with the railgun, but we can’t risk our last two ships against that new armor. You need to get out of here.”
“Yes sir.”
Ross began recalling the various wings of aircraft and armor to the remaining two ships, rescuing as many survivors and pieces of equipment as possible. Whatever the new prototype of Hyko’s was, a single pilot craft being capable of almost single-handedly scuttling and destroying frigates was terrifying.
“Ross, focus your efforts on taking down Hyko. Either he retreats or we’ll fucking kill him.”
“Yes sir.”
One listened to Ross rattle off a series of orders, even as the captain prepared to rift out of the system. Silver, Red, and Green Wings would remain behind to provide hit and run air support for the operation itself, along with the Harbingers of Hurley Squad.
A handful of Protectors, Tabethas, and Harbingers to keep the Black Armada distracted from the strike that was about to hit the mining rig itself.
“Ay, careful, they have ZQs and turrets at the entrance. I only cleared out one or two when I scrapped the railgun.”
“Blue Flame, check your seals! Depressurization in Ten… Nine…”
X-1 put on a helmet, trusting Alfred’s command over the nanobots to ensure the body suit was sealed across the rest of their body. The double HUD was jarring at first, until Alfred cleared the helmet’s overlays completely.
“Three… Two… One…”
The sound of air being pulled into the vents to bring the pressure to absolute zero started, even as the first signs of the rig peeked around the nearest floating monolith.
“Doors in five!”
The Harbingers detached from the outside rails and engaged first, with the two SW-80 Protectors weaving around the far side of the nearest two rocks to open up their nose-guns at the assembled defenses. The distraction was enough to pull most of the heavier arms fire, with one of the Protectors exploding violently as a stream of armor piercing rounds speckled across the engines and fuselage. The quadrupedal A.I.-piloted ZQ responsible for the kill turned, only to be battered backwards by the first Harbinger to land on the metal landing platform outside the main hangar. Heavy chain gun rounds began denting and smashing armor plating and electronics alike.
“Doors! Now!”
The pilots did as they were ordered, with the sliding doors on either side of the Agathas silently pulling backwards against the body of the transports. A moment later they clunked against the metal platform, shocks compressing to the max as Blue Flame Troopers absconded out into the fray.
“Here we go!”
A silent gunfight ensued, with the Armada’s fanatical defenders pouring outwards from the energy barrier leading into the hangar. The remaining pieces of armor were bolstered by those pieces of equipment returning that had clued into the Resistance’s feint.
“Tyrants, left side!”
The harbinger closest to the Aggies spun, chaingun still firing, and the second Tyrant in a two-fighter formation slammed into its wingman as the trail of tracer rounds connected with the nose cone. Both fighters exploded violently, spraying the metal platform with fire and shrapnel.
“Push to the hangar! We’re gonna get pinned otherwise!”
Peaches – wreathed in soft golden power to shield him from the danger of space, was already tending to the wounded, closing up armor breaches and sewing together flesh and bone. Three was in a full-on charge towards the oscillating blue field that protected the hangar from the absence of atmosphere.
The partners cringed as the enormous hammer came down first on the head of an Armada Soldier, sending ribbons of flesh and bone in all directions as the liquid insides of her helmet boiled out from within. Her corpse stuck to the metal beneath her, cohesive force pulling her carcass down against the steel alongside her magnetic boot clamps.
Three continued the momentum, bringing the hammer down and then back up into the chest of another soldier, sending them careening helplessly up into the asteroids around the rig with the failure of their boots. The pull of the mining rig’s gravity generator was getting stronger the closer they got to the enormous blue barrier.
“I think I can get the barrier down for a second or two, hold tight.”
Alfred was doing his best to juggle a hundred smaller tasks both within and without their body. One could feel him as he spread across the datanet, subtly aware of the edges of the digital spaces and bigger picture all around them. Fighter controls, targeting systems, FoF tagging. Hacking the barrier controls was just another day for the Class 7 A.I.
The most powerful A.I. in existence. The only Class Seven in existence.
“Everyone get down, the hangar is about to vent!”
Alfred’s voice over comms came simultaneously with the voice in their head. A sudden whoosh of air blasted outwards as the barrier deactivated and the atmosphere within was pulled out into the vacuum. Armada personnel, armor, and equipment all came flying outwards, many pulled helplessly by the drastically changing pressure.
They watched as a Tyrant came soaring outwards as might a ragdoll, spinning several times and connecting with one Blue Flame trooper unlucky enough to be standing up straight. There was no trace of survival as the Tyrant continued the janky flailing and rolled off the platform and began drifting freely in a wild spin.
A fierce firefight had been quickly converted into a mad scramble against the pull of the vacuum, even as more Armada forces returned to the rig to defend the entrance to the facility. Blue Flame all around them were rallying behind Three, who took the lead in charging those Armada forces now in complete disarray within the hangar itself.
“We’re bugging out, sir, going to hide ourselves in the rubble. Call us when you need a pickup.”
The five Agathas lifted back into the third dimension, unaware of the two missiles arcing towards them from a Harbinger that had finally returned to base.
“Pull up, Jericho!”
The formation scattered, thrusters juking the five transports into the void above the metal landing platform. Much too late, as the two missiles sailed into the starboard side of the closest Aggie. The pilot had no chance to scream as the aircraft exploded violently, sending shrapnel and debris in all directions. One of the sliding doors spiralled end over end across the platform similar to the empty Tyrant before vanishing into the space beyond.
The remaining four Aggies banked down below the edge of the platform, vanishing from sight. The final SW-80 Protector and one of the two Harbingers on the metal platform staved off the Armada machinery from pursuing.
“Get inside the hangar! Chavez, Kain, go with the Aggies to back them up!”
The Protector spun, darting after the remaining transports in a flaring of thrusters. Half the Harbinger contingent also absconded, taking a running jump off the platform before the fusion engines kicked in. It slowly chased after its’ allies, slower and bulkier than the slim star fighter that had just gone.
The Resistance forces mopped up the remaining defenders, making use of heavier ordinance to brick the last few active pieces of equipment in the hangar. Three Harbingers and two Tyrants remained – locked to the floor or far wall inside pre-launch restraints.
Alfred marked them with a yellow FoF for later, in the event they needed a rapid getaway and the Agathas were indisposed. Then the barrier kicked back on and the ventilation systems began pumping fresh Earth atmosphere into the large space.
“Squads one and two, you stay with Stone and keep this hangar secure. Shoot down anything that tries to land. Get some of that Armada equipment up and running to provide heavy fire support. Squads Three and Four, breach and clear the top habitation levels. Us Siblings and Squad Five will start at the mining shaft and work down from there.
The remaining Harbinger took up a defensive position, facing outwards towards the maw of space with an enormous two handed chaingun at the ready. From there, the Troopers scattered, scavenging weapons, clearing lines of fire, and setting up barricades and cover as best they could.
“You ready?”
Three was already at the entrance to the stairwell, ready to hop the railing and drop the majority of the several hundred feet to the bottom.
“Ready.”
Before the squad had even finished reloading and bunching up at the entrance to the stairwell, Three side-saddled over the edge, using his hammer to catch every third or fourth railing to slow the drop. Each loud crash of hammer against railing echoed up and down the space.
“They’re going to know we’re coming.”
Peaches unfurled their wings, and gently stepped up and over, gently descending as might a skydiver with a parachute.
“Follow us down, clear as much as you can behind us. Don’t worry about reinforcing us until we call for you.”
The orders were clear, and with a flare of thrusters, designed more for acceleration of speed than flight, X-1 and Alfred cleared the railing with a single step and began the process of dropping down the central gap, catching themselves every few stories to slow the descent.
They heard the sounds of battle from below before they reached it, seeing the flashes of gunfire from a good three hundred feet down, lighting up the rough stone-hewn floor of the gently sloping mining shaft.
“We’ve got Harlequins down here!”
Peaches’ voice, both rattling over the comms and echoing up from below at the same time.
Harlequin Knights were horrific mechanical and cybernetic monstrosities. Berserkers pulled from the Armada’s hordes, augmented to be more machine than person. Almost as tough as Dread Knights, the elites of the Black Armada. Horrifying monstrosities of war.
They touched down and the plasma shielding flared to life just as Three brought their hammer upwards in an arc, crunching a set of false metal jaws upwards into the skull of an unfortunate Harlequin and sending it flopping backwards. Numerous plasma holes and bullet punctures were visible in the suit, and golden energy was jetting outwards like small acetylene torches. Peaches was doing their best from cover to patch up the holes, making sweeping hand gestures as Three attacked more and more ferociously.
Bullets and plasma bolts ricocheted and rippled against the duo’s blue shielding, driving the pair into cover behind a mining cart. They returned fire from the hazard gear’s double barrels on either side of their wrist blades, blue plasma flashing wildly in a dark space where most of the lighting was off in ambush.
The shootout persisted, with Three and Peaches playing the role of tank and healer, respectively. Three swapped back and forth between the heavy one-handed shotgun at the hip and the enormous hammer, thrusters at the back of the hammer’s head providing more than ample force to crush metal and bludgeon flesh.
Harlequins and Armada soldiers collapsed left and right beneath the onslaught, until the sound of metal on stone echoed up the ramped mine shaft.
“ZQ coming in boys, take cover!”
Three was forced to duck back behind a broken piece of catwalk as a series of plasma bolts spewed up the incline. A heavy quadrupedal machine with bladed scything jaws and cruelly hooked bladed claws emerged up the darkened shaft, floodlights blasting out from each shoulder where a pair of micro-seeker missile launchers started locking on to various targets.
“I don’t have much range. One, Alfred, can you get this one?”
It was a big deal for Three to ask for help.
They moved, their blue plasma shielding flickering and softly illuminating the path as they darted back and forth between pieces of cover. The ZQ blocked the approach as best it could with the heavy repeating plasma gun.
The covers flipped open on both shoulder-mounted seeker missile launchers.
A hammer came flying out of the darkness, illuminated by one of the floodlights as it connected with one of the launchers, sending a frenzy of tiny explosives in all directions after an initial connection.
“Go!”
Wrist blades extended from holsters on both hazard gear attachments, igniting with a bright blue, almost whitish flickering as the bladed cores were wreathed in plasma. The ZQ was clearly A.I. controlled, as it flailed – trying to fix the floodlights on a target even as the plasma gun continued to spew in a random pattern down the shaft.
“Go for the joints between the plates. The A.I.’s processor is usually in the body underneath the spine.”
Alfred projected helpful orange exclamation target markers on the ZQ within the red FoF square, and with a final sprint and a thruster-infused leap, the weapon caught the edge of the neck with a blade. They pulled around with angled force in a spin as the blade torched where it connected. The duo used the momentum to spin beneath the scything jaws of the war machine and scrambled between its four legs and swiping bladed claws in any direction it could.
“Watch the left.”
Alfred’s awareness of the physics of the space was enough to prompt a jerking of their torso to the left, as one of the sharp hooked claws swept through the space they had occupied only a moment prior. They drug a wrist blade through the hydraulic pistons of a rear leg, torching across it with a groaning of metal and a spray of igniting hydraulic fluid.
The quadruped bucked to the side as the leg gave out,with the ZQ taking friendly fire from those few soldiers and Harlequins trying to bring down the biological weapon at the cost of a friendly.
Hydraulic oil, flaming bright orange around the edges of the blue plasma flared.
“Right there. Thrust up, and then cut to the right.”
The orange indicator was much easier to see from beneath. They thrust a blade up into the small gap between two armor plates as marked, and pulled with all their might, torching outwards as the machine sparked and roiled.
“Got you!”
The machine bucked and kicked like an animal, before shuddering and collapsing to the side.
“Good work, you two!”
Three had already taken advantage of the confusion to charge the remaining few enemies. An Armada soldier bucked backwards as the heavy shotgun was fired point blank into the gut. The body sailed into the middle of the shaft, collapsing to the floor as mangled intestines flopped onto the rocky pathway. Several shotgun blasts later, and the final Harlequin also fell prone, as Three wrenched a long dagger up into the neck from beneath, draining blood and oil in equal parts.
“The fact that they had equipment and Harlequins down here tells me we’re on the right track.”
Three tossed Peaches a flashlight from one of the fallen Armada soldiers, as the weapon and Alfred took point, pulling the heavy Jackhammer from magnetic clamps on the back.
“Sir, Sergeant Reeves, Fourth Squad – we’re encountering some resistance in the upper levels. We’ve cleared the barracks and armory, but the common area is hot.”
“Do your best, Reeves. We cleared some Harlequins and a ZQ in the central mine shaft, and we’re pressing further in. Follow us once you’ve secured the upper levels.”
“Yes Sir.”
The three siblings listened to the chattering of gunfire echoing distantly from up the shaft. The Blue Flame was hardy, many having been Guardian Shocktroopers at some point. But unlike the G.R.A. the Black Armada wasn’t afraid to forgo humanity for power and lethality.
“Sir?”
The sound of gunfire was audible behind Stone’s voice.
“Go ahead, Stone.”
A pause.
“Captain Ross is bugging out, sir. One frigate is down, but the Armada seem to have caught on to the attack on the mining rig. We’re keeping them at bay for now, but that red prototype is on the way.”
“Find some cover, and keep me posted. We need the hangar clear to exfil. Might lose contact down here with all the rock and metal, so you’re in charge up there, Stone.”
The harbinger pilot vanished from the top left of the HUD as they descended and lost comms.
Onwards into the great dark beyond.
Three threw Peaches a plasma rifle, before clipping their shotgun to their belt and finding one for themselves. Then they descended down the sloping shaft into darkness.
“How will we find Venomous down here?”
“I expect they’ll have her locked up somewhere airtight, secured to prevent her from shapeshifting her way out.”
The shaft expanded into an enormous hollowed out chamber, with various pieces of heavy mining equipment and machinery scattered amidst piles of mining waste.
“Movement.”
“Berserkers. It’s an ambush.”
“Oh yeah? What if we get the drop on them first?”
Three ignited the thrusters on the back of the hammer, and charged before the other two could stop them. Shouts echoed as berserkers swarmed out to meet them. The bloodbath was grim as Three swept the enormous head of the hammer through the crowds in swaths.
“Let’s go, Peaches.”
X-1 moved ahead, blocking shots for Peaches as best they could with the bubble of plasma shielding. Three made it about halfway through the space before a lucky knife to the side of the armor forced a gasp and a sudden eruption of golden energy in a gout.
Emerging from the armor, Three flickered in and out of existence, a nigh-spectral form that swept blinding beams of particles and energy across the assembled masses from above. The suit was left harmless on the ground as the figure swept across the space in a matter of moments. Soon enough it was cold and still, with the few overhead lights illuminating blackened, irradiated bodies strewn across the floor.
“Get back in your armor, Three. I’ll fix it up.”
Peaches moved through the gore and stench of burning corpses to the suit, conjuring threads of power to weave the armor back into being whole. Once the repairs were done, Three settled back into it, the suit’s systems lighting back up upon re-entry.
“Careful, Three. If Peaches weren’t here, who knows what might happen to you.”
“I can hide out in electrical systems, just give me a damn mech to pilot or something and it’s fine. I’m definitely outta juice now though.”
So much for a self-preservation instinct.
The trio did another round of scavenging amidst the carcasses, and checked the empty waypoint station before moving further on down the mineshaft. It was strange that the further they pressed, the less intense the defenses were.
“Alfred, have you cracked the schematics yet?”
“Yes, but only the habitation levels and the first portion of the shaft were included. Past that waypoint station there’s nothing else recorded down here.”
They pressed on, with the path forking here and there as the mine followed the largest veins of precious metals.
“I can’t get through all this rock and metal to the squads topside.”
All alone then. Not abnormal for the various siblings.
A good hour of walking, with the odd exploration down odd forks and branches brought them to a thick set of steel doors, sealed from the inside and labelled with all manner of hazard and caution signs.
“This isn’t mining grade. Looks like a facility of some sort hidden down here.”
“Alfred, can you-”
“I need you to plug me into the door controls.”
The weapon moved up to the heavy blast doors, pulling a cable from the hazard gear on a forearm and linking it into the door’s access port below the biometric hand scanner.
“This encryption is intense. I’ve only seen security this heavy when…”
The weapon didn’t acknowledge it, but they both knew.
“Give me fifteen.”
Three levelled a rifle at the door, as Peaches sat facing the path they had come.
A garbled transmission came in. Unintelligible even with Alfred splitting focus to try and clean it up.
“If they’re trying to get a hold of us, it can’t be good. Alfred?”
“Hang on,”
Thirty minutes passed as Alfred slowly cracked through the network.
“Okay, I’m in. You won’t believe the data I’m pulling. This is definitely a research facility. Seeing everything from Beasts to biological warfare in here. Several Sol Treaty breaches for sure.”
Peaches sighed.
“Of course. The Black Armada truly has no idea about ethics, morals, or boundaries, as per usual…”
Alfred interrupted them.
“You two, get ready.”
The doors opened with a hiss, leading to an airlocked corridor.
The three carefully moved in, as the doors sealed behind them and the chamber repressurized and decontaminated the air.
“Let’s pray we don’t pull any lethal virus out with us, eh?”
“Shut up, Three.”
The other side opened up with the same hiss, and the trio emerged into a large laboratory, full of glass chambers and tubes as well as various machines and testing equipment. A Beast floated in one of the central tubes near the center, deceased. On closer inspection, it looked closer to Ultimate in the various mutations and gene splicing than a normal beast.
“This was one of the asexually produced offspring Ultimate creates by implanting fertilized eggs into host tissue. But it looks to have been heavily experimented on and modified. Perhaps an attempt to reverse engineer X-2 as originally designed?”
“Over here!”
Peaches was inspecting a series of small containment cubes built into the far wall. Within three of them were whirling clouds of what looked to be spores or pollen.
“Fascinating. Bacterial colonies injected with viral DNA and connected to host controllers via direct battlenet link. Looks like Xex wants to be able to infect and control targets even from a distance.”
“How do we kill it?”
“One second.”
All the cubes erupted in flame as Alfred activated sterilization protocols. The three floating swarms of bacteria screeched and writhed together as single entities, slamming against the glass of the cubes as if trying to escape. The sounds of them shrieking while being incinerated were horrifying.
“Where’s Venomous? We need to find X-5 and get her out of here.”
“Looks like there are containment cells behind the lab.”
The weapon moved to the back as Three and Peaches continued to investigate. Another airlock led the pair into a series of sealed cells. Beasts lurked in most of them as the lights clicked on, screaming and clawing at the doors as the light stirred them to frenzied predation.
“The horrors of mankind.”
“Manufactured weapons, just like us.”
The last door on the right remained dark, even as the proximity sensors kicked on for the rest of the cells and hallway. A dark force could be felt as they approached.
Familiar and pulsing.
“Venomous?”
A form reared out from the back of the cell, as a thorned sucker-filled mouth impacted the viewport at face-height. Tentacles, fangs, and claws erupted in rows, grinding against the transparent material to no effect.
“Venomous, it’s us. We’re here to get you out.”
A slow realization, as the sucker mouth pulled back into the darkness and the mass within shifted and twisted.
“One, is that you?”
A young woman with bright purple hair moved to the viewport, muffled by the heavy cell door.
“It’s me. We need to get you out. We’ve already burned a few hours, we only have one or two left to get the hell out of here.”
“How did you get past Hyko?”
“We lost a frigate distracting him.”
A look of relief passed over her face as Alfred worked on opening the door. It took almost twice as long as the lab’s main entrance.
“One, security footage in the lab is showing we have movement down the shaft.”
As much as the duo hoped it would be Blue Flame, the sinking feeling in their gut told them otherwise.
“Come on Alfred. Come on…”
“I’m working as fast as I can. This encryption is hellish even for me. You can tell The Black Armada didn’t want anything getting in or out of here.”
Venomous placed a hand against the viewport. One matched it with hers, twice the size.
“Well get you out Ven, I promise.”
“FUCK ME.”
“What’s going on out there?”
“Hyko. Dread Knights. It’s not looking good.”
Alfred’s voice was hesitant.
“I locked down the panel, though.”
“Annnnd… They’re already torching through the doors.”
“Got it!”
The door slid open and Venomous fell into their arms.
She was trembling.
“Alright, we have Venomous, we need to get out of here.”
The two figures slowly returned to the lab – where Three watched four Dread Knights continue torching the outer air lock via an overhead security feed. Hyko Ories himself in combat pilot’s attire stood behind them, arms crossed.
Watching, impatiently.
His long, brightly dyed red hair was spiked up into a variety of sharp points, the coat of angry tattoos across his knuckles and neck screaming danger with every snake, skull, and weapon slathered across his body..
“Any other way out, Al?”
“One way in, one way out. We’re going to have to go through them.”
Venomous was having trouble holding her form, as fingers and bones grew and shrunk haphazardly. She couldn’t stop trembling, clearly traumatized by her time here on this mining rig.
The other three would have to count her out in the ensuing shootout.
“Everybody get ready, we’re going to wait until they torch through the second airlock door, and then it’s a fight.”
Wrist blades were extended and energized, as Three shouldered the enormous hammer and Peaches hid behind the floating beast’s tube in the center of the lab. Venomous did her best to steel herself, taking on the form of a trembling Ultimate.
Crested head, smooth tan carapace, vicious needle fangs protruded from a hanging jaw. Even the long, segmented tail with a dangerous looking blade at the tip was there, complete with a syringe-like needle point for injecting internally fertilized eggs.
It was clearly a form of evil she knew well.
Not as potent as the original, but vicious enough in a pinch. The yellow slitted eyes – moving independently, narrowed and flashed as the second door lit up with the flare of a torch.
The Jackhammer was unslung and at the ready, with Peaches and Three taking up firing positions with their stolen rifles behind whatever cover they could find.
“We’ve used this formation before. I’ll keep the heat on us with my plasma shielding and the Jackhammer – you three go for precision.”
Muffled voices and comms chatter babbled from behind the door. Hyko was screaming incoherently at the four Knights.
“Here we go, they’re almost through!”
Four X Project Siblings against The God of Rage and Four Dread Knights..
It almost didn’t seem fair at first glance, powers or not.
The door erupted inwards with a resounding clang as the lead Dread Knight broke the final stringy threads of molten steel and the door began falling inwards from the top of the cut line.
“Go!”
The Jackhammer’s barrels began spinning up, and before the door hit the floor of the lab, molten white-hot plasma was erupting outwards in a hailstorm, oscillating the inside bubbling of the plasma shielding as Alfred adjusted energy levels and ensured the shielding would be outwardly permeable briefly for each outbound bolt in frequent staccato.
A weapon so powerful that only the partners could truly use it to maximum effect.
Three and Peaches joined the fray with their scavenged weapons, creating angry orange-yellow welts on the outer surface of the Dread Knight’s armor with each hit that connected. The Jackhammer never slowed until the first Dread Knight was a sagging mass of molten blast metal and bright red ceramic plates. The inner body was charred and unrecognizable, as the remaining three monstrosities ducked behind back into the mine shaft for cover.
And then an eruption of force billowed the compressed air outwards as the torched door rose up and scythed through the air towards One as if it were merely made of paper.
Alfred was the only thing that saved them as the shield breached and slowed the steel slab. A manual override of the parasympathetic nervous system allowed the leg servos and artificial muscle fibers to relax – dropping the body to the floor and crumpling at the knees as the door continued along a path of bisection and clipped the Jackhammer out of their hands to slide across the floor into the corner.
“ONE, DUCK!”
Peaches was already a second too late as the piece of torched door split through the central test tube and erupted the contents against the back portion of the laboratory behind them.
Mutated hunks of beast, shattered glass, and tube fluid coated the angel’s feathers.
“Close one. Thanks Al.”
“Anytime, partner.”
Three and Peaches continued firing long enough to let the duo scamper behind a console and let the shielding recharge.
“We need to get out of here.”
Three was right.
“Three, we need to get close. Gods are tougher at range!”
“I fucking know that! I’ve killed plenty!”
They pulled the hammer off their back and charged before One could say anything.
“Time to go, Ven! Shake it off!”
Peaches reached over and tapped the faux-Ultimate on the carapace, coating the smooth tan exoskeleton in a soft golden glow.
Three sailed backwards through the air, hammer in hand. The suit of armor skidded along the concrete floor, shooting sparks in various directions.
“Oh fuck.”
Hyko Ories walked into the lab, a look of absolute fury on his face.
“YOU’RE DEAD, YOU FREAKSHOW PIECES OF SHIT!””
He raised both hands, as the remaining Dread Knights filed in and started shooting a mixture of live kinetic rounds and plasma into the open space.
That’s when Venomous’ right arm shattered and exploded into a hundred fragments of false tan carapace and yellowish green innards with an angry clenching of The God of Rage’s fist.
Anger incarnate.
The only god in Central whose powers got stronger under duress as his hatred grew.
Son of the Emperor.
“Get fucked, mate.”
Three’s hammer raced back towards Hyko, thrusters on the rear in full ignition, helping him leap and bound back across the lab and slug the head of it towards Hyko Ories’ face.
It never connected.
Three hung there in the air, exerting as much force as his body of cosmic dust, machinery, and energy could. Hyko, hanging mere inches away, snarled and roared as his body trembled with the force of power required to hold back the attacking Project Sibling.
“Alfred, get ready. I’ll need your reaction time.”
One charged into the fray as the outside of Three’s armor began to crumple and crush inwards, plunging a blue-hot plasma-wreathed wrist blade towards Hyko’s neck.
Hyko merely roared and released Three, twisting and using the force of his powers to collide his first attacker into the blade while simultaneously twisting his body away. Three’s armor sheared like paper against the blade, requiring a soft golden glow from Peaches to patch the venting wound.
The Dread Knights moved in, one hacking a cruel scimitar with tack-welded spikes on it towards the entangled siblings. A second wrist blade from the other arm’s hazard gear came up to block it, heating the metal almost immediately and slowly torching away at the cutting edge.
“Three, let’s Balderdash!”
Three immediately pulled the hammer into a golf swing, engines at full thrust. The helmet of the Knight spattered shrapnel, blood, and brain matter up into the air in a fountain of gore.
“Balderdash, really One?”
“Alfred, you know he likes it.”
One swept both hazard gear attachments on each forearm towards the remaining two Dread Knights, peppering them with orange welts from the dual barreled plasma guns jutting from either side of the ignited wrist blades.
An old strategy, but a good one – attack in frenzied bursts to give your friendlies an opportunity at a killing blow.
As the Dread Knights turned, shielding themselves with both arms and weapons to point fresher patches of armor at the incoming plasma fire – Three swept his hammer in wide arcs, forcing them back even further in defensive dodges.
“Balderdash!”
One ignited their thrusters, clearing the gap of the hammer’s reach and plunging both ignited wrist blades into the vulnerable shoulder joint of the Dread Knight’s armor.
A roar of pain and a jagged twisting of the two curved blades, and the Knight slumped to the floor with the smell of charring flesh.
“Cheeky fucks.”
Hyko’s face was cold fury as he pulled a small handle from his belt and ignited a long white energy blade, oscillating and waving there in the air above the handle.
Three ducked backwards as Hyko sent the lit blade hurtling and spinning through the air, sweeping it in aggressive arcs with his powers as it danced and bobbed without a hand to guide it. The X Project Sibling was nimble enough to duck the first two or three swings, but the fourth hacked across the bicep of their left arm and erupted in another spraying of golden stardust.
One dashed forwards, using one wrist blade to block the seething hot blade of the sword and the other to slice through the handle, deactivating it in midair.
Hyko merely rushed them, seeming not to care about the two curved blades jutting from the hazard gear on either forearm. The two sparred, with even Alfred struggling to poke and prod their circuits and nervous system quickly enough to keep up with a barrage of savagely empowered blows. Each hit was juiced with kinetic energy, amplifying a fairly scrawny young man with the might of a charging Rhino. Each time they connected, servos whined and synthetic muscle fibers went taut.
One was very slowly losing the exchange.
The final Dread Knight crumpled five meters distant, as Three’s hammer crushed the chest cavity inwards in a vice against the wall to kill the monster inside with shuddering breaths.
“You bastard!”
Venomous had quickly regrown her arm, and plunged the syringe-tipped bladed tail of her doppleganger Ultimate form the full three foot length through Hyko’s back, the tip of the needle erupting out of his gut towards One.
“That’s for torturing and experimenting on me!”
Hyko turned and rapidly flexed his fingers outwards, slamming Venomous across the room with power. Her tan carapace cracked and shattered. Then he turned to One and did the same, the Hematic Plates across their bodysuit also smashing and shattering in sprays of yellow sparks.
The partners sailed across the lab back towards the mineshaft and slammed hip-first into the torched opening.
One lost consciousness as they hit the rocky incline, with Alfred scrambling to wake them up.
“Go, go!”
Peaches, from somewhere within.
Tense moments passed.
Then a tearing sound, and a scream.
Three slid through the torched opening, cradling Peaches. They were bleeding profusely from the back where the left angel wing had been torn out at the joint. The graffiti of Three’s suit was slick with dark crimson blood.
“You’re next, abomination!”
The God of Rage, from within.
Venomous scrambled around the corner, a large portion of her tan carapace ripped and torn from her musculature underneath.
Three moved to cover the door as One regained consciousness with a shock from Alfred.
“GO!”
The siblings turned and ran together, scrambling up the slope towards freedom, pursued by a screaming Hyko Ories heaving whatever he could catapult with his powers. Peaches healed them as they went, repairing tissue and closing armor.
The stairwell eventually loomed. The corpses at the bottom, of Blue Flame soldiers who had died holding the line and buying time – lay scattered and eviscerated across the concrete.
“Go, go go.”
The sounds of gunfire from somewhere above.
The group scrambled up the stairs, exchanging pot shots with the God of Rage several stories below who had collected one of the heavy and brutish kinetic rifles of a fallen Harlequin or Dread Knight.
They stopped only briefly enough to rescue the last remaining seven of their initial number, The Blue Flame surprised from behind by Armada troopers in the Armory as Hyko and his Knights had continued the pursuit below. Three slowed to the back, blowing out large portions of the stairwell to both rain concrete down at the God below and slow his pursuing ascent.
“We just need to get to the Aggies, and we can get the fuck out of here and hide in the asteroid belt until pickup!”
Alfred was right.
“Peregrine, tell me you’re out there still.”
“Down to three Aggies, but yes Sir.”
They emerged into the hangar to corpses and a scattering of Black Armada soldiers, including more Harlequin Knights and Dread Knights. Hyko’s red prototype stood on the floor, a bipedal machine armed to the teeth and slathered with spray-painted artwork..
“Landing platform looks hot, Sir.”
“We’ll clear it for you, stand by Peregrine.”
The firefight was vicious, especially with Hyko slowly ascending the damaged staircase behind them. But one more Blue Flame life later, the hangar was clear and the landing platform was mostly open. One made sure to set charges on the prototype and detonate them the moment they were across the hangar floor.
“Tyrants and Harbingers on approach, Sir. We’re touching down in ten.”
Peaches ensured all would be safe against vacuum, and they began the hobbled escape through the blue energy barrier. They could hear Hyko Ories, The God of Rage, screaming from behind them as they slid through into the silence of outer space.
The Agathas swung up and over the edge of the platform before they reached the edge, landing just past the broken husk of what had once been their Harbinger and Protector Escorts.
They had barely closed the loading bay doors and lifted up into the vacuum when a Harbinger cleared the nearest support strut of the rig and opened fire with a massive chaingun.
“We’re hit, thrusters do-”
The rearmost Agatha erupted as a smattering of chain gun rounds brought it down from behind, the two soldiers and the pilot within dying instantly in a suddenly depressurizing fireball of metal.
But the Harbinger was slow, and as the last two Aggies peeled through the rocks and debris of the asteroid belt, it was crushed between two massive colliding obstacles as they ducked and weaved to freedom.
“Holy shit.”
Venomous, back to her purple-haired human form.
Still trembling ever so softly.
“I agree with her.”
Alfred’s open comms broadcast brought a sad smile from the remnants.
The Resistance had seldom lost so many lives like this.
But at least the Black Armada had lost a test subject, alongside Hyko Ories’ prototype weapon.
They raced halfway across the system, hiding amongst the orbiting rubble of the asteroid belt as the remaining Armada forces hunted them like hungry predators. Killing the engines and hiding lasted until the rift signatures of their escape vessels registered near one of the rendezvous points.
Escape at last.
Venomous hugged the partners when they had safely rifted, back aboard the Jubilant Mirth moving towards Petronova.
“Thank you. I know your resistance lost a lot of people for me today.”
One smiled, matching a grim nod.
“I don’t need to know what Shifter had you doing, Ven.”
Alfred’s amusement blossomed in their mind.
“I actually don’t want to know. But… Can you deliver a message for us?”
Venomous nodded, sliding her long purple hair behind an ear. She was one of the few siblings without as deeply strained a relationship to Shifter as the others.
“Tell Shifter that he owes The Resistance a debt.”
One paused, Alfred soothing his sense of loss in the back of their shared consciousness.
“And we’re going to collect on it soon enough.”
