by Greg Sorber
“Why would they be hunting you?” Misty asked. “Were you operating in their space?”
“Misty, that’s not something I can tell you. It’s classified and—”
“Cut the crap, mech!” Misty’s face flushed red. “When you invoked Pax Machina, you severed all ties to your previous loyalties. The only thing you owe loyalty to now is yourself, this place, and all the other mechs you’re putting in danger. Tell me what we’re facing, so I can figure out how to keep this situation from getting any worse.”
Angel raised his hands. “My memory matrix really is damaged. I wasn’t lying about that, so I might not be clear on some details, but I’ll tell you what I can.”
“Spill it.”
Dennis entered The Black Hole sidearm drawn, more out of long-instilled habit rather than the thought there might be any actual danger remaining. He and five security bots cleared the hanger as he would have during the war, just to be cautious. Everything appeared to be in order. He doubted The Black Hole was a high-priority target for Imperium soldiers, but wanted to make sure they didn’t mess with anything. Once satisfied, he directed the security bots back outside to patrol the perimeter. He had one more area to check and didn’t want unnecessary sensors viewing it.
Behind the bar and storage area, there was a section of the hanger he’d designated as his workshop. That was where he, Ajax, and Misty worked on their so-called their special projects. The fortified steel door was closed. If someone had tampered with it, entered the incorrect code on the adjacent access pad too many times, or tried to hack it, it would have triggered an alarm. But with Imperium Spec Ops soldiers involved, he couldn’t be sure they hadn’t bypassed his security.
Dennis entered the proper code on the access pad: it turned green and the door unlocked. He peered inside to see if anyone had disturbed the contents. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath, but everything was in order, so he exhaled. Dennis hoped that whatever trouble was coming their way, he’d have time to finish working on their special projects. He closed the door, entered the code to seal the workshop and reactivate the security systems, then headed for the Command Center.
Bastion responded to Dennis’s orders and strode off towards Sector One. Being the largest mech, his stride was many times longer than that of the others, which forced Connie to convert to her hover cycle form to keep pace. Connie was thankful the Accords hadn’t banned her from converting outright. She wasn’t sure how she’d have reacted if they’d forced her to live the rest of her days in only one form.
While there were military applications of her ability, so few converters remained, it made an outright ban impractical. She kept full functionality, if for no other reason than to serve as a museum piece, a relic of sorts. That being said, the signatories hadn’t accepted her word of honor that she wouldn’t convert into unauthorized forms. They’d hired a clever programmer to create an inhibitor subroutine that prevented her from converting into weaponized vehicles or changing any of her body parts into firearms or energy weapons. Her authorization to declare Pax Machina was contingent upon her agreeing to having the inhibitor subroutine installed.
Sector One was the closest sector to the Landing Pad, so it didn’t take Connie and Bastion long to get there. Bastion used his enormous height to see over the cargo modules and view things from above. Connie converted back to her humanoid form and checked things out from ground level.
“Do you see anything interesting?” Connie asked.
“Smoke from near the Weapons Depot,” Bastion said.
“I’ll investigate.” Connie rushed through the maze of storage containers that made up the bulk of Sector One. There was smoke in the air, and she followed it to the source. The source was the Weapons Depot. It was in flames. She activated her communicator and said, “Bastion, it looks like the Weapons Depot is a complete loss. Do you see anything else that needs checked?”
“Negative. Everything else in Sector One looks normal from my vantage point.”
“I’ll take a quick look around from my level and then we can report in to Dennis.”
“Affirmative,” Bastion said.
Larry sprinted to Sector Two. As a Light Armored Reconnaissance class mech, scouting was his specialty, so he didn’t wait for any additional instructions. He knew what he needed to do. Lancer followed close behind, while Artie trailed further back. Larry gave Artie props for keeping up, considering he couldn’t even walk in a straight line a few days earlier. Artie would eventually adapt to being lighter after so many years as a heavy-artillery platform. For Larry, though, moving fast was natural. He’d always been fast and loved it, but without weapons and armor weighing him down, he flew as if he had wings on his feet.
From what he remembered, Sector Two contained storage facilities for human supplies. The distance from the populated systems and the chance that scheduled shipments could face delays, or perhaps not arrive at all, necessitated a large inventory of food rations and other supplies humans needed for survival. Larry thought it weird that beings as fragile as humans had lasted long enough in their history to create beings such as himself, but he supposed that is why they did it, to help make up for their own limitations.
Lancer and Artie caught up to Larry, and the three mechs spread out to investigate the sector. There were a lot of containers, but Larry found the smoldering ruins of two containers and several others with significant damage. He checked the Main Compound schematics on his internal systems and discovered the damaged containers were food supplies. He hoped, for their sake, that the humans had some food stashed in another location.
If the Imperium troops needed a distraction, they could have set off the explosives on any of the containers. The attack on the food supply wasn’t accidental, it was a message.
Sparky, Flint, and Volley traveled the farthest to get to Sector Three. It also contained the toughest terrain. As they traveled, Sparky and Flint wondered why Dennis had assigned the three of them to Sector Three. Larry, Connie, or Lancer would have made more practical choices because of their nimbleness. In the end, it didn’t matter. They would complete their task as assigned. It’s probable that Dennis didn’t have time to think about it logically—the limitations of a biological brain under stress.
They arrived in Sector Three to find the primary Communications Array a molten pile of slag. The explosives had taken out the entire array. The explosions weren’t a simple distraction; they were a strategic attack meant to take out Mechhaven’s communications capabilities.
Dennis paced in the Command Center. He’d never enjoyed sitting still. Even while on missions during the war, waiting caused him the most stress, even more than actual combat. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long; the mechs were fast and only after a few minutes had started reporting in.
Bastion and Connie reported from Sector One, and as he’d feared, the explosion there had taken out the Weapons Depot. For obvious reasons, they didn’t keep a large supply of weapons or ammunition on Mechhaven, but what they had now lay destroyed. The DECOM Module held the only remaining ordinance in temporary storage, unless the soldiers had destroyed that too. Artie and Larry were the last two mechs to go through decommissioning, and Dennis hadn’t finished disposing of their armaments yet. He wasn’t sure if they’d would help, but they might.
Larry reported in from Sector Two. It wasn’t clear at first, but after further investigation, the area targeted in Sector Two was the food stores.
“The bastards!” Dennis cursed. Misty was smart enough not to keep all their food in one location. Despite that, it was a cold move, striking at their food supply. He hoped that someday he’d meet back up with those Imperium SPEC OPS soldiers under more favorable circumstances. He’d be sure to inform them of his opinion regarding their tactics.
Sparky, Flint, and Volley reported in from Sector Three. Their news was the worst. The attack had destroyed the Communications Array. Not damaged, but blown to bits. Their principal link to the outside universe was destroyed. There
was a backup system, sure, but it didn’t have the power or capability of the primary system. For all intents and purposes, Praefect Valtoré and his soldiers had cut Mechhaven off from the rest of civilization.
Doc carried Therapy into the Repair Module, with Ajax trailing close behind. Doc laid the disabled mech on an examination platform. Ajax maneuvered a diagnostics scanner over Therapy’s prone figure to find out what Praefect Valtoré’s device had done to him. Whatever it was, the effect was localized, since Therapy was the only one affected.
“Doc, do you have any ideas of what caused this?” Ajax asked.
“I’ve seen massive EMPs take out mechs on a battlefield, but they’re not very effective since most of us have defensive shielding,” Doc said. “I’ve seen nothing directed at a specific mech like this.”
“I thought it might be a micro-EMP burst directed at Therapy, but the scanner doesn’t show any signs of an EMP.”
“That would’ve been the most likely cause, I agree. But since that isn’t it, do you have any other ideas?” Doc asked.
“There are some weird fluctuations in his power matrix. Wait—I have an idea—I hope it’s not too crazy. Can you attach this power relay to Therapy?”
Ajax handed Doc a device. “Be sure to run it through a current filter. We need a clean, stable power stream. Then attach it to one of the battery arrays that I’ve been charging with Angel’s siphoned power.”
Doc looked at Ajax. “Are you sure that’s safe?”
“Since it wasn’t an EMP, maybe that device disrupted Therapy’s power matrix. We need to stabilize it and give him a jumpstart. The purest power we have access to is from Angel.”
Doc completed the tasks as Ajax outlined. “That’s an interesting idea,” Doc said. “I’m glad you’re taking initiative.”
“I have an excellent mentor,” Ajax said. He checked the instruments. “I’m seeing a stronger reading from the power matrix. When I say, flip the switch. Let’s flood his system with clean Archangel power.”
“Got it.” Doc prepared to flip the switch.
“Get ready. Now!” Ajax said.
Therapy lurched as the stored energy from Angel’s power siphons poured into him. He slammed back down on to the platform, twitching as the pure energy surged through his systems. Ajax wasn’t sure how much energy was the correct amount to reboot Therapy, nor how much would cause further damage, so he decreased the amount of energy flowing into the mech. As Ajax reduced the energy level, Therapy twitched less. When Ajax switched the power off, Therapy lay still once more.
“Did it work?” Ajax asked Doc.
“I’m not sure, but I hope you didn’t fry his systems.”
Therapy abruptly sat up. “Did Praefect Valtoré just use a power matrix scrambler on me?”
Ajax and Doc jumped as the motionless mech sprang to life.
“All legitimate governments, including the Imperium, banned power matrix scramblers. I will file a formal protest with the ACC, regarding that and several other matters dealing with this so-called inspection. I may even contact Nigel EmCroft himself.”
Ajax patted Therapy on the shoulder. “Nice to see you back up and running.”
“I agree,” Doc said, “but you had us worried there for a minute. How do you feel?”
Therapy’s ocular sensors dimmed for a moment as he ran a diagnostic check on himself. “My systems are running at optimal levels. I feel fine. There is a two-hour gap in my memory logs. How long was I on offline?”
“That sounds correct,” Ajax said.
“I must get to Misty right away. She’ll need my help. That inspection team was not legitimate.”
“What do you mean?”
“We could be in more trouble than any of us anticipated.”
Misty shook her head while Dennis reported on the findings he’d received from the mechs from Sectors One through Three. She met with Therapy, Dennis, Ajax, and Angel to discuss their situation and any options they had.
“Praefect Valtoré and his soldiers took out most of the weapons we had, our communications, and our food. Those weren’t just some punitive measures for an inspection gone wrong,” Misty said. “I have serious doubts that they even had authorization to be here. Are you sure their codes were valid?”
“Their codes were valid,” Therapy said. “They were older codes, but they checked out.”
“What’s their next step? They wanted Angel. Are they going to return and take him by force?” Dennis asked.
“They’ve violated the Rybeth Accords by setting off explosives. Taking Angel by force would be another direct violation,” Therapy said.
“If it’s a fight they want, even without weapons, our mechs would make quick work of those spec ops soldiers,” Dennis said.
“If any of our mechs fight the with the Imperium, they’ll be violating the Pax Machina, nullifying the terms of the Accords. It could cause another war,” Therapy said.
“They don’t want us fighting back,” Misty said. She pointed to herself, Ajax, and Dennis. “That’s why they destroyed the Weapons Depot.”
“Agreed,” Dennis said. “Even with those weapons, we couldn’t put up much of a fight, but destroying them removes that as an option all together.”
“And they took out the communications because they don’t want us checking back with the ACC to see if they have authorization,” Misty said.
“I agree with that assessment,” Therapy said.
“The assholes took out our food, too. They think we must comply with whatever they want to get more supplies,” Dennis said.
“How bad is the food situation?” Ajax said. He put a hand on his stomach.
Misty put her hand on Ajax’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, a long time ago we split the food up into multiple areas to prevent something like this from happening. In hindsight, I think that was a good idea. The Aquaponics Module will help as well. We’ll need to complete a full inventory, but I think they only destroyed a quarter of the food. So, unless a lot of unexpected guests arrive, we’ll be fine.”
Misty’s explanation seemed to sooth Ajax’s worries. She turned and looked to one corner of the Command Center. “Sly, you might as well come out and give us your opinion on the matter.”
Sly’s shadowy form appeared in the corner and asked, “How did you know I was there?”
“I didn’t,” Misty said. “But I know you well enough by now to guess you’d be listening in on such an important conversation.”
“I don’t know whether to be insulted or impressed,” Sly said.
“You can take it any way you want,” Misty said. “Do you have anything to add?”
“I don’t think you’ve seen the last of them. If they intended to lodge a complaint, they would’ve just gone into orbit and waited for a response. No, they were punitive and took out very strategic assets. This means they want you to regret your actions so you’ll be easier to deal with when they return.”
“How soon until they return?” Misty asked.
“Sooner than you can get the Communications Array back up and running.”
A few hours later, Misty, Angel, Therapy and Wavelength worked in the Command Center. Misty ordered Ajax and Dennis to get some rest. Angel barely fit into the room and couldn’t move much, but Misty wasn’t letting him out of her sight. Therapy and Wavelength were working on plans for repairing the Communications Array when an alert beeped from one of the control panels.
It was from the Beacon, an obelisk-shaped structure of alien origin that projected Mechhaven’s location to the jump network and aided with navigation to the planetoid. Beacons were found on planets throughout the galaxy. Of what they were constructed and how they functioned were shrouded in mystery. Humanity knew just enough about the Beacons and the larger jump network to collect passive data and use it to navigate throughout the galaxy. For the residents of Mechhaven, it alerted them to incoming ships, which thanks to the Imperium inspection team was their only remaining link to the outside universe.
“Misty, we’re detecting a new ship in the system,” Therapy said.
“Are they returning already?” Misty asked.
“No, this vessel is bigger, much bigger. It looks like a heavy transport of some sort,” Therapy said.
Angel adjusted his cramped position in the Command Center so he could see the monitor that Therapy was viewing. “I recognize the signature. That’s part of what I was investigating in Imperium space. That’s not just a heavy transport, that’s a Planet Cleanser.”
“What does that mean?” Misty asked.
Angel looked up from the monitor and turned towards Misty. “Screevers.”
Chapter Nine
Archivist Olivia Houston on Horatio Academica’s response to Sub-Archivist Juliet Montero’s testimony
A piece of advice to my colleague from the Imperium. If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop diggin’. It’s clear you don’t like what you heard from Sub-Archivist Montero, but the truth can be hard to swallow. As she is a trained Archivist and an eyewitness to the happenings on Feron-1, she is the best witness to deliver said testimony. TexaNova will use our veto right to deny additional testimony on this topic. Now why don’t you put that in your pipe and smoke it.
Archivist Olivia Houston
TexaNova
“Planet Cleanser? Screevers?” Misty asked. “I don’t like the sound of either. What are you talking about, Angel?”
The mech snapped to attention and reported. “Based on the intelligence I’ve collected, the Imperium was working on Planet Cleansers near the end of the war, however, they never deployed them against the AOIS.”
“So how do they go about cleansing a planet and what do they cleanse a planet of?”
