Crouched down behind a burning android tank, Vuxten watched his heat and slush drop. The last push had gotten within a hundred meters of the parking lot before it had been driven back by the combined firepower of Vuxten, Casey, and Daxin.
Trucker had ordered Casey to put high-ex into the buildings across the street to demolish them. While it left huge mounds of debris with plenty of cover, it eliminated the buildings themselves as cover and concealment.
--hot hot hot-- 471 said, ordering up another mini thermal core from his own nanoforge. Vuxten's was too hot and overslushed to produce thermal cores that weren't seventy-five percent thermal loaded.
"Do what you can," Vuxten answered. He checked the heat on the magac rifle he'd been firing, noting that the coils at the end had discolored slightly. "Trucker, I'm overslushed and overheated," Vuxten sent across the tightbeam command channel.
"Hold position. Moving assets to you," Trucker said back, his voice a strange combination of distant and intent.
"Roger," Vuxten said.
He looked over to where Daxin was standing out in the open in the middle of the parking lot.
The asphalt around him was bubbling and steaming, his boots sunk a good three inches into the melted tarmac. The battlescreens projected by his armor were glimmering, rippling energy intercepting high-v magac rounds, causing small explosions of sparks. Nearly twenty paces away FIDO was bouncing across the tarmac, the mortars by his hind legs popping off rounds every five seconds.
Daxin had his SMG held tight in one hand, the other hand resting on top of it, controlling it as the big Terran snapped out quick bursts, shifting aim rapidly. Vuxten could see every burst took an android in the chest, scooping it out like shucking an oyster. The android, without exception, collapsed, the chest nothing more than sparking electronics and destroyed synthetic organs.
Vuxten knew he had not moved in nearly ten minutes, drawing firepower from the androids.
Casey took three steps forward, braced himself, and fired the big cannon. The retort was an ear shattering sonic boom that vibrated Vuxten's suit over two hundred paces away. A bright line connected the cannon with the target for a split second.
The android tank caved in like a cheap plas toy kicked by an angry adult, flung up in the air, the tracks exploding from it, before it began flipping in mid-air to crash down.
Casey shifted aim and fired again, even as the calf-mounted missile launchers fired off a half-dozen missiles per leg with a rippling crack.
A hoverpod scooted across the tarmac, stopping next to Vuxten, who was panting with the heat. The bottom opened and it dropped an olive drab green crate before the hoverpod scooted away. High-vee rounds sparked off the thick warsteel laminate as a crew served gun opened up on it.
Daxin's snap shot blew the gunner's head clean off a split second before Casey's gun obliterated the gun, the crew, and ten meters of rubble around them in one thrumming impact.
Vuxten opened the crate and smiled despite the circumstances.
He grabbed the harness, pulling it up onto his armor.
--fun fun fun-- 471 said as the harness locked in and synched up.
Vuxten's heat dropped when the weapon's onboard heat sinks pulled the excess heat from Vuxten's suit into the gun's smartframe to warm up the creation engine and reactor.
"Vuxten, incoming orders," Peel said, her voice calm and unruffled.
"Roger," Vuxten said. "Gun's online."
The sweeping blue line appeared in his vision, a ring pulsing nearly twenty paces away. A countdown appeared and Vuxten tensed.
When it hit three seconds Daxin adjusted his fire, twisting slightly at the waist as he smoothly reloaded his weapon, the auto-loading magazine's battery depleted. Before the androids could take advantage of the second and a half loading time Daxin began firing. Short, sharp, controlled bursts of three to five rounds.
The android squad that had broke cover to run across the street were torn apart before they got five paces.
Daxin put six shots into the wall, blowing huge holes in it, following it up with a shoulder fired rocket the sailed through one of the holes and detonated.
Vuxten was already running when the white phosphorus showered out from the rocket, spooky particle kickers smouldering and burning even on the armor the androids were wearing. He could hear the synth-electro screech of the androids that discovered their armor and synthetic frames weren't proof against hellfire.
--shields back online-- 471 said just as Vuxten saw the power meters for his onboard battlescreens go from flashing red to halfway up and blue.
Vuxten slid to a stop, activating his grav anchor, and leveled the package.
One hand holding tight to the control bar, the other hand down to the handle and the firing grip on the top of the weapon.
There was dozens, scores, maybe even hundreds of androids jumping out of the back of transports, many of them turning to look at Vuxten as his battlescreens came up with a snarling tearing noise.
He squeezed the firing grip as the first android began to screech and point at him. Insanely, Vuxten realized that the android had light brown fuzzy-curly hair.
Vuxten started his firing arc on the far left of the gathered androids.
>MADAME THREE-EIGHTEEN HAS JOINED THE SERVER
-------
The android commander was listening to the six Thinkers arguing as the next division marched out of the creation cradles and across the tarmac to board the craft. The android troops were dressed in what the commander thought of as the most recent cutting edge war fighting technology. Cole-Bunch Imperium-X Mark II hard shell armor, Argus Combat Sensor System, and a ZT-919 high velocity magnetic rail acceleration rifle that fired a 2.2mm pellet at hypersonic speeds.
The Thinkers were worried. It would take fifty-three hours for the just manufactured reinforcements to reach the heavy fighting on the surface of alpha layer, even using StarTram velocities.
The heavy fighting around the objective had already wiped out the majority of androids on Alpha Layer, and The Architect Director was demanding more androids be committed to the attack.
"What is the issue?" the commander asked one of the thinkers across the network link.
"The current number of combat forces engaged with the enemy on Alpha and Beta Layers will be destroyed in less than two hours," the Thinker stated. It disliked having to even speak to the Warrior but military operations meant that the Warrior was generally in charge. "Our forces are out of position, some as far as three hundred million miles out of position."
The Warrior nodded. The problem with a Dyson shell meant a large area, long distances, and problems reaching anything in short order.
"What is the problem with the mass matter transmission system?" the Warrior asked.
"It is currently unavailable according to Architect Director directives," the Thinker said.
The Warrior went to ask another question off the network link, to address the question to all of the Thinkers, when movement caught his eye. Movement coming from an alley between two empty buildings on the heavy avenue that led to the android production facility.
He turned to look, the other Command and Control Warriors with him turning at the same time.
It was heavy power armor, the helmet done up to look like a round smiling cat's head. The armor was daubed all over with pink and white paint. Torches mounted on the back, lifting up a meter into the air, were burning with pink flame, white cores shining. Flag of emojis snapped and fluttered in a non-existent breeze.
Across the street another figure was stepping out, this one in heavy armor, wearing a normal helmet, the armor all in white with gold highlights and edging.
"DOKI＼(*^▽^*)/ DOKI ＼(*^▽^*)/ DOKI KAWAII (◕‿◕✿) WAAAARGH ̿̿’̿’̵͇̿̿=(•̪●)=/̵͇̿̿/’̿̿ ̿ ̿ ̿!" sounded out in a feral feline screech.
Both figures opened up with heavy weapons, 20mm shells giving a high pitched shriek as their passage fluoresced the air into bright white lines.
For a split second the Command Warriors and the Thinkers nearby expected nothing to happen. The new armor was impervious to anything man-portable outside of Burgerlander and Vodkatrog weaponry.
The ammo, which enjoyed a long name that included such words as anti-matter, sabot, defeating, and high velocity, tore into the massed together androids. Where each round hit the armor didn't stop it. The first three or four sets of armor didn't slow it down or register a hard enough impact for the internal fuze to go off.
The sheer kinetic transfer of the 20mm rounds passing through the androids was enough to shatter torsos. When the round finally went off, five or eight ranks deep, the explosion threw androids into the air.
The first double-pass shredded most of the androids before they could really react, the decision tree matrixes taking too long to parse.
The Doki-Joan concentrated fire on the vehicles for less than a minute and they were nothing more than flaming wreckage.
Herod kept his head down, his hands over where his ears would be. He could still hear shouted, screamed really, Engrish-Emoji as well as Kalki bellowing. The goat, wearing soft looking armor, pressed against him, rubbing against him as if to calm him.
In the street at the end of the alley Herod was hiding in, Kalki and the Dying Joan began to walk forward, advancing into the routed and confused android troops. The two M318 20mm autocannon's in their hands roaring as they pounded the android troops.
From the Doki-Joan's armor speakers came the pure alto voice of a woman singing a hymn to the Digital Omnimessiah.
---------
"Is that..." Bellona started to ask, staring at the massive starship resting on the pad. It looked more like a wet navy ship than a space ship.
"One Anteus Cruiser," the Detainee said, exhaling smoke. She waved at it. "It's all powered up, fully loaded, modern creation engine templates instead of the old ones, new SUDS rapid reload point load pilot systems for the vehicles. She looked at Bellona. "Can you pilot it?"
Bellona nodded. It was ancient, would be a museum piece for anyone else.
To her, it looked glorious.
"It's on standby. Fire it up, wait for the signal. You know your objectives?" the Detainee asked.
Bellona nodded. "I do."
"Get to it," the Detainee snapped. She turned to Legion. "What's with the goofy smile?"
Legion just smiled wider, looking down at the Detainee. "You're going to hand me an entire Entropic Fleet?"
"Would you rather fight against it if Howdy-Doody figures out how to activate and control the system?" the Detainee snarled.
"I'm not complaining, mind you. I'm awed. These things were a myth," Legion said, staring at the thousands of jet black ships sitting in docking berths.
"Can you pilot them?" the Detainee asked. "Can you make enough of yourself?"
Legion smiled. "I'm the Fleet of One. I can pilot ten times this amount."
"And the ground troops?" the Detainee asked.
"Army of One," Legion said. Another version of himself stepped away, this one dressed in adaptive camouflage.
"You get the ships crewed and fired up," the Detainee said to the one now wearing an Admiral's uniform. She turned to the one in adaptive camouflage. "Let's go."
The Admiral of the Fleet of One paid no attention to the vanishing woman and one of himself.
He only had eyes for the Entropic Fleet.
Where it waited for him.
--------
Legion watched the short woman out of the corner of his eye as they stepped off of a carefully constructed open air mat-trans pad. She looked slightly victorious but also like she'd just bitten into an apple and found half a worm.
"What's wrong?" Legion asked.
"The plan has too many moving parts. I'm a firm believer in KISSing," she said.
Legion nodded. "The problem with modern warfare."
She just sneered and looked around.
"All right, you know your part of the plan. Make sure he can see you when I give you the signal," the Detainee said.
"Of course," Legion said. He walked across the empty park, the Detainee following him. He sat down on a bench and looked up at the cityscapes on the layer above them, twice as far away as Luna was from Earth, but cities still visible.
"All right," the Detainee said. She stopped for a second. "See you in Hell."
Legion just nodded as Dee suddenly vanished with a pop.
"The best laid plans of mice and men," Legion quoted softly to himself.
-----
The river was a construct of programming. Object Architecture systems made a river out of moving data packets, with the grass on the bank and the sandy beach on the edge of the river part of the error checking and routing system. It was a primary trunk line but where it went the duo on the banks had no idea.
A frog and fox sat by a small fire at the edge of the river, looking up at the 'stars' in the sky.
They both turned and looked as they saw a whipcord thin Terran step out of the brush on the opposite side of the river. The brown skinned Terran male stepped from the bank to the water, the water only divoting slightly below his feet.
The fox and frog watched in shock as the man suddenly blurred, dozens, scores, hundreds, thousands of copies of himself arcing away to dive into the dark water and vanish.
After a long minute the Terran walked across the river, onto the bank, and moved up to the fire.
"May a weary traveler sit by your fire?" the Terran asked.
"Of course," the frog said.
"We welcome you," said the fox.
"I thank you," the Terran said. He sat down and then held out his hands, warming himself by the fire. "My labors are strenuous and require much effort," he said. "This comfort, while small, is indeed welcome."
The frog and fox looked at one another and then at the stranger.
"Might we know your name, stranger?" the fox asked.
The stranger smiled. "Call me... Legion."
---------
The blasted plains of Hell were full of screaming, the sounds of great engines turning, the crackling and scream of fire erupting from the ground, and the cracking of whips as daemon programs kept the sentience integrity files moving.
The Mistress of Hell, a broad beast of brown skin, corded muscle, and unbridled fury, cocked its head as the ground split open and a plump female matron was lifted up from the depths of Hell by a plume of greenish fire.
"Is it time?" the great beast asked.
The matron nodded.
The beast gave a great bellow that echoed through the blasted plains of Hell.
The scream of a billion warrior souls echoed back as the gates of Hell clanged open and released them into the system.
------
Dee stopped at the door, taking a deep breath. She stopped to look at her own reflection in the chrome door facing.
"Yeah, though I walk into the Valley of Death, I will fear no evil, for I am the baddest motherfucker in the Valley," she said to herself.
She triggered the door and stared for a long moment.
The control room at the top of Atlantis was full of active monitors. Seats were empty, there were no VI or eVI at stations, no living beings at consoles.
Just a single figure, flickering with parts rezzing and snapping back into high definition, staring at a hologram of Team One fighting off another wave of androids.
"Stop trying to resist me," the figure whined. "I just want to save you all."
Dee slowly walked in, keeping to the sides of her feet, opening her pack of cigarettes. She watched the figure, facing away from her, rant and rave in two different voices.
She hopped up on an abandoned console, put a cigarette in her mouth and lit it.
Sam-UL kept raving.
"You bitch. You stone cold bitch," Sam-UL snarled as another wave of androids was destroyed.
Dee exhaled smoke, deliberately streaming it toward Sam-UL.
"Yes?" she asked.
She was smiling as Sam-UL whipped around.
--------------
Kalki threw the android Thinker at Herod's feet. The lower body was blasted away, both arms torn free. As Herod watched, Kalki reached down and ripped off the android's face, revealing its durasteel skull.
Herod pulled out his tools, working quickly as Kalki went back to the fight.
He could almost feel the android's dismay as Kalki joined the Dying Joan in the fight.
Herod got the skull open, disabled the personality center then wiped it. He isolated the network repeater, took a deep breath, and hooked it into an eVR translator. When the telltales went green, about the same time that the 'ground' shook for almost five seconds, he ran the wire from the translator to his datalink.
He closed his eyes and opened the port in his datalink.
Herod was crouched down in a VR representation of a welcome area that was long abandoned.
As the Detainee had promised, there were nearly a dozen ways out.
Herod moved to each window and door, touching them, loading up the file destination headers that Peter had given him.
Once that was done, he waited.
He could feel the fear clawing at his courage.
He knew that it would be sooner rather than later that Sam-UL would notice him.
And when he did, he only had one option.
---------
Vuxten stepped back steadily until he was inside the red line that Peel had put up in his vision. He released the firing grip, feeling an ache in his hand, and lifted the Madame Three-Eighteen up. The fins deployed and the weapon began cycling coolant.
"Incoming dropships. Marking," Vuxten heard Peel state.
Casey shifted, lifting the barrel of his cannon.
It still boggled Vuxten's mind that the world was the inside of a shell.
"Range is sixteen thousand kilometers," Peel warned.
"In range," Casey stated. "Locking up. Firing."
The heavy cannon on Casey's armor roared.
Vuxten looked up as Daxin stomped over to stand next to him. Unlike the pictures and movies, Daxin wore a heavy helmet. A window popped up in the upper right of Vuxten visor.
"You're doing fine, kid," Daxin said.
"Thanks," Vuxten answered.
"Ten minutes till the first wave of Screaming Ones arrives," Peel stated.
Vuxten nodded, taking a sip of water and tabbing up a nutriblock.
--gonna fix shoulder-- 471 said. --cracking shell--
Vuxten just nodded absently, watching as Casey fired again at a target Vuxten couldn't even see.
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