Pax Machina (Mechhaven Book 1)

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Pax Machina (Mechhaven Book 1) Page 24

by Greg Sorber


  “This should help,” Dennis said as he sprayed the areas most damaged by the acid, “but you can’t take much more of this.”

  Ajax joined Dennis and assessed the damage to Bastion’s knee. “He won’t be able to stand on that.”

  “Then we’ll make our stand here,” Dennis said. Misty and others joined them.

  “Watch out!” Bastion roared. He swept his damaged leg into Ajax, Dennis, and Misty, knocking them out of the way just before Zeta IX slammed into where they’d been gathered. Zeta IX severed Bastion’s damaged leg at the knee and it slammed into the humans, pinning them. Bastion roared again.

  “The Beast of Belacor refuses to die?” Zeta IX asked. “Never fear, I will finish you as soon as I take care of the humans.”

  Zeta IX turned and aimed his cannons at Dennis, Ajax, and Misty, who were trying to free themselves from Bastion’s severed lower leg. Before he could fire, Bastion reached out with an enormous hand, grabbed the mech and squeezed as tight as he could. He lifted the mech into the air and stared directly into his bright orange ocular sensors.

  “You want to see the Beast?” Bastion growled. “Then I will show you the Beast!” He head-butted Zeta IX, then smashed the Reaper into the ground. He picked him back up and smashed him again and again.

  Working together, Dennis, Ajax, and Misty pushed Bastion’s severed leg off them. Their mech suits absorbed most of the damage, leaving them shaken and battered. More screevers arrived in the area, their movements again erratic as Zeta IX was busy being pummeled by Bastion.

  Bastion was in an awkward position. He was propped up as far as he could be on his severed leg, his good leg bent at the knee, but he couldn’t stand or he’d be off balance. He continued to pound Zeta IX into the ground, over and over. Screevers poured in around him, attacking where they could. The damage he suffered was tremendous. His movements slowed. Bastion paused and looked at the form of Zeta IX in his hand.

  Zeta IX looked none the worse for wear and he laughed—his haunting, maniacal laugh. The mech glowed a soft yellow at first, then he grew brighter, shifting to orange, and then red.

  “Bastion, get rid of him,” Dennis yelled. “Everyone, run!”

  Zeta IX turned from a soft red to an angry crimson, the color of blood, and then released his energy. Bastion’s arm vanished in the explosion as it threw him backwards. His chest, shoulders, and other arm all suffered severe damage. Zeta IX dropped to the ground and waved for more screevers to join him. Stunned by the blast, Bastion didn’t move. Zeta IX walked to Bastion’s head and fired point blank.

  Dennis stood in disbelief.

  Connie screamed in the distance.

  Zeta IX fired into Bastion’s body. This time, he was making sure the Beast of Belacor did not rise again. Dennis fired his machine gun, trying anything to distract the mech from attacking Bastion. Connie was there, too. She sliced at Zeta IX with her one functional arm. Given time and concentration, she’d be able to reform her injured arm to repair it. Both time and concentration were in short supply. Whether she could use both arms or just one, she wouldn’t last long alone against Zeta IX. Gladius, Brutus, and Lancer joined her. Together, they attacked the Reaper from all sides.

  In the fight against Zeta IX, Dennis was under no illusions that he or the other humans could do anything other than get in the way, so he, Misty, and Ajax rendezvoused with Therapy, Juno, Luna, to take out as many screevers as they could.

  A blast knocked Connie backwards. Zeta IX was strong and absorbed damage like nothing Dennis had ever seen. One thing he’d observed was that it took Zeta IX time to recharge between powerful attacks. His attacks after the big damaging ones were less intense. He wasn’t sure if that could help them, but maybe it was something.

  Just when it felt like Gladius, Brutus, Lancer and Connie were gaining the upper hand and keeping Zeta IX off balance, he rocketed straight up into the air. He landed in the distance and sent a fresh wave of screevers toward them. As many hits as Connie, Lancer, Gladius, and Brutus had scored on him, Zeta IX looked none the worse for wear. But by fleeing the fight as he did, were they finally discovering his limits?

  The defenders couldn’t keep fighting for much longer, either. They’d soon make a mistake, as if they hadn’t made plenty already. With the mechs, the longer they operated at this level, the more likely they’d experience catastrophic system failures or run out of power, either of which would leave them vulnerable to screevers or worse, Zeta IX.

  Besides Angel, Bastion had been their best chance to do significant damage to the Reaper. So far everything the other mechs had thrown at him he’d brushed off as if it were nothing. There had to be something they could do to hurt him.

  What does Lightbringer mean? Sly’s words echoed in Angel’s thoughts. Lightbringer. The Lightbringer Protocols. That’s what had made him who he was. He remembered now. He was Archangel-00013, given the name Angel by Misty Durham of Mechhaven.

  His core programming included all the Archangel Protocols. His purpose was to bring hope to those in need, and to even the odds that the Alliance of Independent Systems and their allies, TexaNova, faced against the combined forces of Imperium and the Arcturan Monarchies. He knew these things. But there was more. They gave him the Lightbringer Protocols and the technology to implement them. These were the latest, most advanced directives and subroutines available. They tasked him with a near impossible mission. Infiltrate Imperium space and discover what secret weapons they were developing for use against the Alliance.

  The only reason the Imperium entered peace talks was because their ally, High King Servier of the Arcturan Monarchies, had grown tired of war, and dismayed at the massacres conducted at the hands of the Imperium. Nobody trusted the Imperium would stop developing weapons of planetary destruction. Angel found traces of such weapons, aftereffects, but he couldn’t find actual proof. When he received word that the war ended, he was deep behind enemy lines, and so close to finding the truth.

  He’d discovered two planets that had been wiped to nothing—cleansed. Surely some evidence existed, but he’d found nothing. But then, when at his lowest point, when he despaired about ever completing his mission, he detected a signal. It was a faint engine signature. He traced it to an asteroid field. He found the ship he was looking for and boarded it. There, he found the evidence he’d searched for. He downloaded schematics of the Planet Cleansers, the screevers. It was all there.

  There was something else he found. Something as frightening as the Planet Cleanser. A new class of mech, the Reaper. It was so powerful, it was frightening. It acted as a control to the screevers, so they wouldn’t destroy more than necessary, unless ordered. Yet it had an equally important but more devious ultimate directive—one that it was perilously close to completing. They tasked it with finding and wiping out all Archangel class mechs. They called it Zeta IX.

  Angel now remembered what the Lightbringer Protocols were for. His creators were aware of the existence of Zeta IX, and they’d designed Angel to take him out.

  “I will destroy Zeta IX,” Angel said.

  “I hope you will be more useful than—” Sly said. She stopped mid-sentence as Angel launched into the air. “Well, that’s new.”

  A crack echoed across the plains as Angel broke the sound barrier. He spotted Zeta IX and descended, picking up speed, and became a projectile as he homed in on his target. Angel scanned the battlefield. Too many mechs limped along, damaged, or worse lay destroyed, scrap for the screevers to feast upon. Bastion was down, and the surviving defenders gathered about him, preparing to make their last stand. He had to make all of their sacrifices worth it. It wasn’t for them to give their lives, not this time. This was his task, his goal, his mission. He had to live up to what they expected of him. He had the technology. He had the knowledge.

  This time, it was up to him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Archivist Nicobulus Licinius’s announcement regarding The Battle of Mechhaven

  It appears the discussion
s on Pax Machina and Mechhaven may have been premature. I just received a report on a battle that took place there. The fact that the words battle, Pax Machina, and Mechhaven fall in the same sentence suggests the experiment was a failure.

  Archivist Nicobulus Licinius

  The Imperium

  Angel slammed into Zeta IX with as much speed and force as he could muster. The impact sent a plume of dirt and debris into the air and generated a crater into which he drove the malicious mech straight to the bottom. Zeta IX didn’t move. It felt good to dish out some punishment for a change.

  He scanned the surrounding area. His friends scrambled about Bastion’s wreckage, defending his body from the marauding screevers. Something caught his eye. He detected movement at the bottom of the crater. He couldn’t give Zeta IX any quarter. Shifting both arms into plasma cannons, he fired into the crater. He lost count of how many times he fired, but he estimated it was enough to destroy a light cruiser. When he stopped, he chanced a look into the crater. Zeta IX had disappeared.

  No, not disappeared—Angel’s gaze traveled from the bottom of the crater up its steep slopes to the opposite edge. A defiant Zeta IX stared at Angel with ocular sensors the color of a raging fire. To Angel’s dismay, the Reaper appeared undamaged.

  Zeta IX said, “The Archangel has finally shown up to the fight!” His arm flashed out and fired a bolt of energy at Angel. Unfazed by Zeta IX’s taunting, he dodged out of the way of the attack. Zeta IX fired several more times, but Angel avoided each of the bolts. He preferred fighting with his systems running at optimal levels. This was more like it.

  Zeta IX launched himself across the crater and tried to pummel Angel into the ground. Angel slipped by the devastating fists and counterattacked with a roundhouse kick. His kick connected, but instead of knocking the bigger mech off balance, it stopped in place. The Reaper grabbed at his extended leg, but Angel retracted it just in time. The larger mech followed up with a series of punches and kicks, though Angel blocked or parried each of them. One thing was certain. Zeta IX was much bigger and stronger than he was. Angel wouldn’t be able to beat him in hand-to-hand combat.

  Angel shifted his arms into plasma cannons again and directed a powerful double-barreled blast at the oncoming mech. He used the blast to attack his enemy, but also propelled himself backwards. This bought him more time to fire at his enemy. He switched to shooting focused beams of energy at Zeta IX from a safer distance. Zeta IX dodged some attacks, but others were direct hits. The Reaper staggered several times, but each time he shrugged off the damage. Then the realization hit him that Zeta IX was using energy transference technology similar to his own.

  Searching his restored memories, he recalled reports of Imperium spies stealing advanced technologies from the Alliance of Independent Systems dating back to before the war started. However, there was one report at the beginning of the war of an advanced manufacturing facility being bombed. Alliance intelligence suggested the bombing was to cover up the technological theft that had occurred.

  “As you may have guessed, I have killed Archangels before,” Zeta IX said. His voice calm and matter of fact. “I presume you are the last, sent to destroy me for destroying your brothers and sisters? Fear not, I will finish the job when I rip your head from your shoulders!”

  “Never!” Angel shouted back. He should have had a better retort ready, but witty repartee wasn’t part of his standard subroutines.

  His Archangel Protocols were active, but for every attack he unleashed, Zeta IX matched them with his own countermeasures. He tried to access the Lightbringer Protocols, but nothing happened. Each time he received an insufficient power message which prevented him from accessing the sub-menu. He was functioning at near-full power. How much more power did he need? Angel didn’t take his next shot at Zeta IX. He needed to see if that would enable him to reach one-hundred percent and engage the Lightbringer Protocols. It was unsuccessful. He would have to go beyond the hundred percent threshold. Was that even possible?

  Zeta IX took advantage of the delay and fired several focused shots of his own. They connected and knocked Angel back, but his energy transferring skin absorbed the damage. His power levels spiked when Zeta IX’s shots connected. He still couldn’t access the Lightbringer Protocols, but he thought he noticed the menu option activate for a moment. He would have to take more hits to get more power. That seemed like a poor strategic choice, but it was his best chance.

  The Imperium had used stolen technology to create the Reapers. If they’d been deployed, they’d have changed the course of the war. Once the AOIS received intelligence regarding the location of the factory that produced them, they launched a ferocious attack to wipe that place from existence. The AOIS believed they’d destroyed all the Reapers in production. What they didn’t know was that there was already one Reaper produced, and it delighted in hunting down and killing Archangels.

  The Alliance kept quiet about their mounting Archangel losses. When Archangels were not as visible on the front lines, they were said to be on covert missions, and that Alliance forces were capable of fighting battles on their own. When there were only a handful of Archangels left, Angel, the final Archangel, was created and sent deep into enemy territory to search for the Planet Cleanser, the screevers, and the Reaper.

  Both Angel and Zeta IX were the culmination of competing technologies developed during the war. Zeta IX to defeat Angel and his kind, and Angel to defeat Zeta IX and his kind. It was unfortunate that their last battle must be in this place where mechs were supposed to live out their lives in peace.

  Angel vowed that if he lived through the day, he would spend the rest of his existence making up for it and protecting those who’d shed blood because he hadn’t completed his original mission. He would complete his mission now. No matter what, he would defeat Zeta IX.

  With a renewed sense of urgency, Angel fired repeated shots at Zeta IX, striking him over and over. The mech didn’t avoid his attacks. Zeta IX relished in the energy he absorbed with each blow, charging up to unleash a powerful attack. Angel hoped Zeta IX didn’t realize that he’d intended to provoke the mech’s fury. If he timed it just right, he could absorb the energy he needed to activate the Lightbringer Protocols.

  Angel continued firing at Zeta IX, careful to not get within melee range. He couldn’t afford to give the bigger mech a chance to attack him physically. Angel increased the intervals between his attacks. He left intentional openings for Zeta IX to lash out, but he had to be careful to set random increases in the times between the attacks to make it look as if he were tiring. If he were too obvious about it, Zeta IX might figure out what he was doing and ruin his plan.

  Once he reached the threshold of power absorption, as Angel had hoped, Zeta IX unleashed a powerful torrent of energy. Angel had less than a second to raise a shield. He braced himself and created an energy shield that was part of his regular Archangel Protocols. Zeta IX’s attack washed over him. He stood, shield raised, and absorbed every particle of energy his body could process.

  “No!” Ajax shouted as Bastion toppled to the ground. He felt the force of a mountain of metal slamming into the ground. The crunching and tearing sounds of metal collapsing were heartbreaking. He’d amputated Artie’s legs, watched as Doc was torn apart right in front of his eyes, and now Bastion was down. What else could happen? No—he didn’t want to know. He had to make it through the battle and save as many mechs as he could.

  Connie cried out in agony. She defended Bastion’s damaged body from the screevers that threatened it. Her efforts were futile. There were far too many for her to fight alone. Ajax felt her loss as well. Too many mechs had died, or were dying. Out of respect for his friends and their unique relationship, he had to help her.

  He ran as hard as he could to join Connie. Out of ammunition, he now wielded a mace, as Doc had, and he was growing to like it. A spear may have had greater reach, but the mace made a satisfying crunch every time he smashed a screever. That’s how he’d honor Doc’s memor
y, by smashing every single screever he could manage.

  When he neared Connie, Ajax realized that she wasn’t crying out in mourning at Bastion’s death. Through the collective cacophony of the screevers, she was calling his name. Why would she be calling his name?

  “Ajax!” Connie said. She rushed up to him. “Ajax? Can you hear me?”

  “Yes, I can hear you, Connie.” Ajax said. He bowed his head. “I’m so sorry.”

  “There’s no time for that,” she said. “There may still be a way to save Bastion.”

  “What? How?” Ajax asked.

  “I’m receiving a signal from his memory core. I don’t know what it means, but if his memories are still functioning in there somehow, we have to save him.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Ajax asked.

  “I need you to extract his memory core,” Connie said.

  “Extract his memory core? I’ve never done that before. Is that even possible?”

  “You’ve never amputated a mech’s legs before today either, but you did it. You need to figure it out. It’s the only way to save him. What would Doc do?”

  She had to mention Doc, didn’t she? Not too long ago, Doc had told him he would have to do things he never knew he was capable of. If he wanted to live up to what his friend and mentor had expected of him, then he’d have to figure it out.

  “Okay. I’ll try!” Ajax said. “But you and the others have to cover me. I’m going to need my full concentration for this.”

  “I knew you could do it!” Connie patted her hand on his shoulder. In an instant, she withdrew her hand, converted it into a spike, and skewered a screever. “Now get to work.”

 

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