by Greg Sorber
Misty asked Gladius to place the remaining weapons nearby, so that any of the mechs armed with weapons from Chuck could retreat and rearm themselves with a melee weapon when they inevitably ran out of ammunition. She called Therapy and Lancer over to review any updates made to the battle plans with Gladius and Brutus. Gladius agreed with most of the updates and made several suggestions of his own.
Gladius looked at Lancer. “The plan calls for you and yours to have our back this day,” he said. “Can we trust you won’t desert us at the most inopportune time?”
It was a dig at the fact the Arcturan Monarchies had broken its alliance with the Imperium during the war. Misty thought humans had long memories, but mechs never forgot—that is, unless they’d been damaged like Angel. She hoped Angel’s memory gaps didn’t come back to haunt them.
Lancer bowed to Gladius. “No doubt my king had his reasons. My role was not to question, but to follow his orders. Fear not, for on this day thou will see how a warrior of the kingdom conducts himself. Would thou care to wager which of us has the higher body count by day’s end?”
Gladius nodded. “I will take that wager.”
“And what shall we wager, as I own nothing on this planet?” Lancer said and opened his arms wide.
“Just the knowledge that I bested you shall be enough,” Gladius said.
“And if I prevail?” Lancer asked.
Gladius held up his personal sword, his gladius. “If you win, you can take my sword, for I will not be worthy of it.”
“A worthy wager indeed,” Lancer said.
“Here, take this,” Gladius said. He turned and grabbed a weapon from the hover cart. He tossed a long metal spear to Lancer.
Lancer caught the spear and tested its weight and balance. He performed a standard form in the Arcturan martial style. “Why such a gift?” Lancer asked.
Gladius laughed. “Our contest needs to be fair.”
Lancer bowed. “My thanks. However, thou may have just sealed thy defeat. This is a suitable weapon, but in my capable hands it will devastate the enemy.”
“We shall see,” Gladius said.
Misty turned to see Dennis approaching. “What was that all about?” he asked.
“Old rivalries die hard,” she said.
“It’s time. We need to get prepped.”
“Let’s hope our suits work.”
“They’ll work,” Dennis said. “How much they’ll help, we’ll find out.”
“Ajax is coming, too. He’s working on coating the last few mechs. He’ll meet us at the workshop in a few minutes.”
They hopped in a hovercraft and zoomed from the defensive line, past the far end of the Landing Pad to The Black Hole on the opposite side. Dennis didn’t mess around and accelerated the vehicle to its maximum speed. When they arrived, they hurried to the workshop in the back. Dennis keyed in the code and a large rolling door opened, revealing three powered mech suits. Unlike the humanoid-sized powered armor suits Sigrid and Chuck wore, these were the size of mechs. They’d designed the suits to give Misty, Dennis, or Ajax a fighting chance if they ever had to go toe-to-toe with a rogue mech. In their present circumstances, the mech suits gave them a fighting chance against the screevers. Unlike the disarmed mechs, the mech suits had full payloads of ammunition that they’d covertly stashed away in strategic locations around the Main Compound.
“I wish we had time to practice in these,” Misty said. “It’s asking a lot for us to go into combat with no training.”
“You’ve completed the training sims, right?” Dennis asked.
“Yes. All six of them, just like you asked,” Misty said.
“Good. Training sims are fine. But with these, on-the-job training is the best form of experience there is,” Dennis said.
“You told that to me on my first day, a long time ago,” Misty said.
“Yes, I remember.”
“Well, I thought it was bullshit then, and I still think it’s bullshit now.”
The two laughed.
Connie zoomed up in hovercraft mode with Ajax in the passenger seat. When he’d exited the vehicle, she converted from hovercraft form to her humanoid form and marveled at the mech suits. “Oh! So that’s what you’ve been working on? Very nice! So, you’ll join us in the fight?”
“You didn’t think we would?” Misty asked.
“It’s nice to confirm. It will be a morale boost for everyone to see you out there at our sides, willing to put your lives on the line for ours,” Connie said.
“It’s the least we could do,” Misty said. “Ajax, suit up. We have a battle to fight!”
Chapter Fourteen
Head-Archivist Dante Singh’s response to Archivist Nicobulus Licinius’s request for an adjournment of the Conclave
The sudden passing of Archivist Horatio Academica is disturbing. He was a trusted colleague and a close friend. In his honor, we will not delay the Conclave any further. Archivist Licinius, your request for adjournment is denied. However, to prove that I am not heartless, I will shift the subject to something a little more recent that we should all be up to date with: the establishment of Pax Machina and the founding of Mechhaven. I will also take this opportunity to remind all Archivists and Sub-Archivists that we are an independent body, not bound to the loyalties of our systems of origin. Our duty is to find and record the truth for posterity. I admonish all of you to reframe your arguments as independent agents, not representatives of your home governments.
Head-Archivist Dante Singh
Alliance of Independent Systems (AOIS)
Angel followed Sly’s every move as they delved deeper into the labyrinth of the Planet Cleanser. Sometimes they paused and waited for security bots to pass, other times they backtracked to avoid patrols. Every so often they came upon access points to the manufacturing sections of the transport. Each time Angel wanted to destroy the screevers in their various stages of manufacture. If he took them out then and there, they couldn’t harm his friends. Each time he stopped himself, either of his own volition or because of a sidelong glance from Sly. Angel hated sneaking around. But if he took premature action, then he’d ruin the entire plan. If he overloaded the core, it might destroy all the screevers at one time, but with the first wave ready, he wasn’t sure how much time they had.
While weaving his way through the corridors, Angel constantly monitored his systems statuses. Although he wasn’t at one-hundred percent, his systems continued to improve, stabilize, and repair damage he hadn’t even realized he’d suffered. Angel believed he was strong enough to handle any threat at that point. What he wasn’t sure of was the nagging feeling that he’d walked through those same passageways before. Humans might call the feeling déjà vu. He didn’t know if mechs could have that feeling as well. Memory matrices allowed for near immediate access and recall. Some memories took longer than others to access, but the difference in time was miniscule. He wondered if these feelings were because his memory matrix was damaged.
Sly stopped and peered around a corner. She waved for Angel to approach. Angel moved as silent as a mech his size could manage and kneeled down to facilitate communication between Sly and himself.
“The next room contains the power core. I will enter and disable it—”
“You mean overload and destroy it. Why you and not me?” Angel asked.
“You know what I mean,” Sly said, “I’m more familiar with Imperium power cores, so I can overload it more efficiently than you. I need you to stand guard and make sure I’m not interrupted.”
“Fine. But I’m watching you, Sly. No tricks. Overload the power core.”
“Just be ready to run. Once the system reaches critical levels, we’ll have to exit fast.”
“When I see you run, I’ll run.”
Sly disappeared into the power core while Angel waited. He hated waiting and had to do way too much of it during his mission behind enemy lines. Archangels were mechs of action. It was part of their design. He waited for what seemed like an eternit
y, but when he checked his internal chronometer, only a minute had passed. Resigned to an eternity of waiting, several more minutes had passed when he detected sounds of security bots approaching. He peered into the power core to check on Sly’s progress.
“What’s taking you so long?” Angel asked.
“The Imperium has changed their security protocols,” Sly said, “it’s taking me longer to hack into the control system than I expected.”
“There are security bots on the way,” Angel said.
Sly activated her camouflage and disappeared. “Then I suggest you find somewhere to hide,” she said.
Angel followed Sly’s suggestion. He activated his stealth mode. However, instead of exiting the same door he’d entered from, he left through a side door. Memories flooded into him as he followed the corridor. He had been there before. He knew it. During his time behind Imperium lines, he’d searched for the existence of the Planet Cleanser. He found traces of it. He’d even found the planets where they’d tested it.
After he’d received confirmation that the war was over and was on his way out of Imperium space, he detected a coded signal. His decryption subroutines cracked the encryption and allowed him to follow the signal in full stealth mode. The search ended when he found the Planet Cleanser docked with a supply ship and he infiltrated the docked ships. As his mission parameters dictated, he gathered evidence proving the Planet Cleanser’s existence. He’d wanted to destroy it. He knew he should have, but that might have restarted the war. It was a hard decision to make, but only he was in the position to make it.
Angel could have overloaded the power core on the vessel and erased all traces of it—and himself. But no, his orders were to report back on its existence, not destroy it. He would give the alliance the evidence it needed to gain reparations from the Imperium, and perhaps force them, once and for all, to admit their role in starting the war.
What had happened? What had gone wrong? He still had gaps in his memories. Something wasn’t right. He kept following the corridor, oblivious to whether or not there were security bots. With each step, he recalled more of that day. There were many puzzles left to unravel, but the one thing that bothered him the most was the size of corridors. He was above average size for a mech and had no trouble passing through the corridors, yet small bots maintained the Planet Cleanser and only produced small screevers. The size of the corridors made no sense.
Angel’s thoughts were interrupted when the ship began to shake. The Planet Cleanser came to life. Buzzing and whirring sounds echoed throughout the ship. It had collected enough resources. The manufacturing process had kicked into full production mode, and the first wave of screevers were ready for deployment. What was taking Sly so long?
He’d traveled deeper into the ship than he intended. It would be best to find his way back to Sly. It would be difficult for her to signal him if he wasn’t within range. He retraced his steps. He had been there before. Every second of time, every step he took, reinforced that feeling. No, not a feeling, a certainty. It had happened right before he’d escaped to Mechhaven.
Angel froze.
Something.
Wait. Correction. Someone was watching him.
This! This happened before.
Angel shifted his arm into its plasma cannon mode. It wasn’t a silent transformation, but amid the cacophony of the Planet Cleanser operating at full capacity, it didn’t give away his position. If it had, it wouldn’t have mattered. Someone was already tracking him.
He entered the power core containment room. Using the sensors he’d calibrated while following Sly, Angel detected her still working to overload the power core.
“Sly, the entire ship is coming alive. They’re almost ready to deploy!”
“I know. I’m trying. Their security protocols are more robust than I thought. There were changes even I didn't expect.”
Then he heard—no, he felt—the steps. Something big was heading in their direction. A deep voice mechanical voice said, “So nice of you to return, Archangel. Now I can finish you myself.”
Larry took position atop a hill overlooking the crater created by the impact of the Planet Cleanser. It offered little cover, but he stayed out of sight as best he could. He didn’t enjoy waiting, but it was a part of the job that he was used to. Hide and wait until something worth reporting happened, report back his findings in real-time, if possible, then run like hell to get away before being spotted.
Pleased to have his equipment back, Larry inspected his gear. The familiar heft of his sniper rifle and his back-up sidearms were comforting. His own specialized ocular sensors, designed for scouting, provided sufficient detail that he didn’t have to use a scope. But this time, since he was preparing for battle, he didn’t want to miss anything. Larry lifted the sniper rifle to his shoulder and viewed the scene using the powerful magnification the scope provided.
Bots of various designs zipped and zoomed around the impact site. Using their hover jets and thrusters, they scoured the surrounding area for resources, and when found, harvested them. When filled to capacity, they returned to the Planet Cleanser to deposit their find. The resources would be processed and used to create more screevers. It was a shame he couldn’t take some of them out from the hilltop, but he couldn’t risk a shot. The harvester bots were non-combatants, and any action he took at this point would alert the enemy of his presence.
He did his best to stay hidden from the bots’ sensors. His pixelated blue and gray camouflaged paint scheme served him well, allowing him to blend in with the rocky gray landscape. While the harvester bots weren’t sentient, they had the ability to raise an alarm if they detected anything suspicious.
There were also security bots on patrol. These weren’t the smartest of bots, but would raise an alarm if they spotted something unusual. Even worse, the security bots had weapons. The chances of him being hit by one of them at that distance were slim, but it wasn’t the time to take chances. Because of his need for speed, his armor was lighter than most other mechs. Speed and maneuverability were his allies, but he wouldn’t last long in a knock-down, drag-out fight like a legionnaire could.
Larry wasn’t sure whether he heard it or felt it first, but either way, sounds came from the Planet Cleanser and the ground vibrated. Something was happening. Security bots retreated into the massive spacecraft turned factory. Maybe the bots had discovered Angel and Sly. Their job to overload the ship’s power core was in jeopardy. If successful, they could end the fight before it began. If not, he would have to alert the others once the onslaught began.
After a few minutes had passed, the ramp on the front of the Planet Cleanser lowered. As it descended, he raised his rifle scope once more. Thousands of screevers of all types were ready to deploy.
“Listen up, folks,” Larry said. He connected with the others on the designated communications channel. “The ramp is down and the screevers are in deployment position. Be ready.”
“Roger that,” Therapy said, “but be careful.”
“Any sign of Angel or Sly?” Misty asked.
“No, ma’am. I don’t think they were successful.”
A high-pitched screeching sound penetrated to Larry’s core. More confirmation that Angel and Sly had failed. The screevers activated. Their sound was infuriating and distracting. The sound was designed to disrupt communications, instill fear, and sow confusion among their enemies.
It worked.
Larry saw movement and ran.
The screevers were unleashed and were headed his way.
Angel ducked, avoiding the enormous metallic fist that flew towards him from out of the darkness. A whoosh of air passed over him, confirming how close it had come to connecting. The fist slammed into the wall, resulting in a loud thud that triggered a flood of images to resurface in his memory matrix. The last time he was here, he wasn’t as lucky. That time, the punch had connected and damaged him and his memory matrix. He must avoid being hit like that again.
The screeching sound o
f screevers activating filled the air and staggered him. He enabled advanced filters on his aural sensors. The filters blunted the impact of the worst of the sound, but not all. The other mechs wouldn’t be so lucky, and would have to endure the sound throughout the coming battle.
Angel spun and bolted into a corridor. Something with a fist that large shouldn’t be able to fit down the smaller passageway. He needed to draw it away from Sly to buy the infiltrator time to finish overloading the power core. He ran headlong into a team of security bots. This time, instead of hiding, he acted.
The security bots were as surprised to see him as he was to see them. He had a split-second advantage and took it. His fists flashed outwards and struck down two bots in an instant. A kick took out a third and fourth. The fifth one turned and ran in the other direction. Angel shifted his right hand, and it became a plasma cannon. He fired and destroyed the escaping bot.
He’d never acted so decisively. It was great, but the feeling was short-lived. He turned to see the hulking form of the other mech working its way down the corridor. Its bulk made it difficult for it to move and slowed it down. Angel shifted both hands to plasma cannons and aimed down the corridor.
“Let’s finish this right now!” Angel shouted as he fired two focused blasts down the corridor, both of which hit the frightening mech.
His pursuer laughed then said, “It will take more than plasma blasts to defeat me, Archangel!”
Angel’s blasts were designed to take out Imperium legionnaires. The mech he just blasted acted like nothing had happened. This wasn’t going to be easy.
“You don’t remember our previous fight, do you? No matter, I will refresh your memory as I pull your limbs from your body.”
“What are you?” Angel asked. He continued down the corridor, not waiting for the answer.
