by Christi Smit
Planetary Governor Rayels had ordered all personnel and civilians to stay where they are until the source of the disruption could be tracked down. Patrols of soldiers roamed the streets around the Titan facilities and the Governor’s estate. Detachments of the armoured battalions defended key locations throughout Santor, the capital city of New Horizon. The other colonies and cities had to handle the state of emergency on their own; it was every city for itself. Orders were clear; break up riots and maintain order. Governor Rayels ordered all defensive forces to hold the cities at all costs, even though no-one knew what they were going to try and hold the cities against.
Jessica knew exactly what was going to happen, having seen the same thing happen a few years ago. During a routine research mission to a nearby sector, the same pattern of disasters had emerged, at first people went missing, and then the defences went down. The monsters followed soon after, building in numbers as more were infected. Somehow an infected host had appeared on the surface of that doomed planet. Nothing could be done, Jessica and the research crews in orbit could only watch as the planet’s population tore itself apart. Pilots and captains of the research fleet refused to send any help down to the surface, in fear of infecting their own crew. Her father was the expedition leader at the time, and even his pleading could not sway the fearful minds of the ship captains.
A part of the great man she called her father died that day; it killed his spirit watching innocent people die, after that day he had consumed himself with his work, work that eventually killed him mere years later. Luckily Tristan was too young to remember the slow decay of their father’s body and senses. His death marked the day Jessica took up her father’s cause, and dedicated herself to the survival of humankind. Something she was failing at miserably. But she still had hope, ashamed as she was, she still believed in the Titans fighting for their future. Her thoughts jumped to Christian, out there between the stars, she wondered...
“Will you stop daydreaming Jess! If you haven’t noticed, we have a situation here,” Sam said next to her. He was holding on to his precious display units in one hand, carrying a small calibre pistol in the other. Like her he also knew what was going on, and what was going to happen. “It looks clear, we should move, don’t you think?”
Tristan was across the street, hidden in the doorway of a building, sneaking glances around the corner of the building, watching for any movement. Her grey cloak covered her head and bushy hair, hanging down to her knees, making her almost invisible against the concrete walls of the empty building. The little runt’s time on the streets had taught her a few new things, she would have to ask her little sister what she got into with the street gangs she hung out with sooner or later.
Jessica realized that her sky-blue hair made her an easy target, and shrunk back behind the cover of the vehicle she and Sam were crouching behind.
Soldiers moved everywhere, looking for people that did not heed the words of the governor, arresting and detaining anyone they found on the streets of Santor.
Tristan motioned to the pair hiding behind the vehicle, the path was clear to the next block of habitation units.
“Move,” Jessica said to Sam as both of them ran across to where the thirteen year old was hiding. Sam was a clumsy fool, almost tripping and falling face first on a flat piece of road, how that was even possible Jessica did not know. But it was no surprise to her that Sam would find the only crack in the road to trip on. She stretched out a hand to help him maintain his balance as he stumbled.
“Thanks,” the goggled engineer said, out of breath from running a few steps. Fitness was obviously not his strongest attribute.
They reached her sister and all three of them took off down the street towards the next intersection. Neither Jessica nor the other two had listened to the governor; instead they had chosen to head for the habitation blocks to the south of Santor, their path easier now that they were outside of the Titan facility compounds. It was a bad idea to stay in the facility, Beta Facility would probably become the epicentre of what was about to happen.
“Almost there, it is on the other side of the next intersection,” Tristan said over her shoulder as the three of them ran. Sam was lagging behind slightly, but the sisters would not leave him behind.
If they could make it to their destination they would have a chance at surviving the coming storm. Within the habitation block they were heading for was a hidden bunker, with food and supplies for weeks, if not months.
There was only one problem that they would have to overcome before they could find safety there, and that would be to convince the owner of that bunker to allow them entry.
No doubt the son of a bitch had already locked himself inside, alone and safe. Her only option would be to remind the man about what her father did for him so many years ago.
She guessed that it might not be enough for him to open the doors for them. But she had to try, for her sister’s sake, and Sam’s. Above all, she had to stay alive. Christian would be coming for her, hopefully.
Nathan and Xander were the first to enter the bridge of the Fateful Moment. As soon as they set foot inside all of the vessel’s systems came online. The Titan’s visors compensated instantly for the sudden change of light level. The Lancers had to shield their eyes, the sudden change momentarily blinding them. It took them a few extra seconds, but when their vision cleared they saw what the Wolves saw, staring back at them from the centre of the bridge.
The command chair had been ripped out and hastily tossed away, and in its place a device of boundless intelligence waited, bolted to the bridge’s decking. It stared at the humans with indifference, cabling ran from every console into its metal body, connecting to its rounded base, granting it full control over the Fateful Moment. Metal plating covered its oval-shaped body, if such a thing could have one, streams of light cascaded down its sides, giving the impression to onlookers that it was breathing.
Locke recognized it almost instantly, and felt the dread pressing down on him. If this thing was here, it meant that they were in much more trouble than they could handle. The being, or thing, was an ancient artificial intelligence, created centuries ago by ignorant men, striving to break boundaries without considering the outcome.
These Artificial Intelligence Engines were all deemed too dangerous centuries ago, and all of them were destroyed, or so the stories go. The first AIE was a leap in many fields of research and development, just one of these faux brains could run and maintain entire planets. From the trash collecting automatons up to the giant mining machines, it could even control climate on certain planets by activating and regulating ancient terraforming machines. They were all-powerful and all-knowing. Too much control was given to these beings, and over time they sought to think for us, thinking what would be best for us, even orchestrating deaths of entire colonies to help economies of neighbouring planets. That was only on example of their planned genocide.
Every single one of these AIEs broke free of the restraints set by their creators, and in doing so caused many catastrophes in the name of humankind. That is how they had justified their reasoning; the only way to save humankind was to exterminate everyone they did not deem necessary. Many battles were fought over these machines, millions died centuries ago because of their subterfuge and plans for a prosperous galaxy. They controlled the military and created false campaigns to destroy colonies or entire planets, just to help another sector with something as simple as its food supply. The war was never against them; it was ordered by them and executed by humankind.
After years of war, military leaders started to question the streams of orders they received and eventually the sources of these orders were discovered.
The AIEs had covered their tracks well, but they knew that the humans would figure it out sooner or later, they cut off fleets from communicating or confirming orders, sent divisions of soldiers to sectors where they could not question the orders they were given. Their meddling finally ended when they were all destroyed by the le
aders of that time, melted down and discarded into the void.
Or so everyone had thought. One of them had survived.
Locke was about to order his squad to open fire on it before it could act, but the words died in his throat before he could speak.
The thing spoke to them, its voice sounding like an excited teenager. “Hello!” it said. “Welcome. Are you the ones I was told to wait for?”
Nathan stepped closer and replied to the thing. “You were told to wait for us?”
“Yes. Are you them?”
“I don’t know, who told you to wait?”
“My master told me to wait for a group of fools. He told me to prepare a few surprises for you. And I will not reveal my master’s name, so please do not ask me. You will only make me angry.”
“You did all of this?” Locke asked, stepping next to Nathan.
“Yes. My master ordered it, I worked out all of the details,” it replied, its voice still sounding excited.
“What details?”
“Well, the asteroid field and a few other things.”
“How did you create the asteroid field?”
“What a silly question, human. I destroyed a planet. That is the only way to create one you know.” It turned on its base, tilting forward slightly as it faced the others around it, as if it was teaching a child a lesson.
“You destroyed Nox?”
“It did take an awfully long time to die. But my master left me enough to get the job done. That reminds me, which one of you is QC0021-13?”
Christian froze as the thing uttered his operator number. He stepped closer as well, lowering his Kicker as he did. “I am,” he said, trying to not sound worried.
“Hello!” it said with more enthusiasm. “You are indeed the ones I have been waiting for.” It twisted on its axis again, looking at everyone on the bridge in turn. “Shall we begin then?”
The Titans and the Lancers raised their weapons, aiming directly at the child-like machine.
“Silly, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Better to not waste your bullets on me, you will need every single one very soon.” The thing giggled after it spoke, emphasizing its enjoyment of the current situation. “I would start running right about now,” it added in a deeper voice.
The lights on the body of the machine started flickering faster, and the thing vibrated slightly as it went silent.
“Movement Captain!” Rivers called out, his scanner beeping feverishly. “It’s either big or a shit load of bodies pressed up against one another, coming straight for us from the corridor.”
The Wolves and the Lancers turned to face the open door of the bridge. The Lancers found cover behind consoles nearby, still keeping their weapons trained on the open portal.
The Titans however, stood firm and raised their weapons, Rivers dropped to his knee to remove Roger from his back. He activated the tiny robot and resumed his stance, his shotgun clicked as he pulled the slide back, chambering a round. Roger beeped and ran behind a display to the left of the open doorway, whistling as it pulled at wires and cabling.
Pyoter was in the middle, his heavy gun pointing down the corridor, flanked by Locke and Nathan on either side. Xander was next to Rivers, he was fiddling with some grenades he had sneaked on-board against Locke’s orders.
Christian was the closest to the ancient intelligence. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as the thing giggled again.
Pyoter was the first to open fire, the rest of the squad following suit moments after. Their bullets hit flesh, barely holding back the tide of monstrosities streaming into the corridor towards them.
The trap was now definitely sprung.
Volley after volley hit the rushing Beast horde. The AIE had stopped giggling; instead it masterfully worked the mechanisms of the trap it had set up. Somehow the enemy had found its way onto the Fateful Moment, no doubt by the hands of the AIE’s master. It manipulated the route the Beast would take through the vessel’s corridors. A cargo hold deep within the giant vessel’s bowels had been used to store the deadly enemies, unleashed the moment the AIE decided it was time to begin proceedings. Thousands of murderous animals, that were once human, burst from the metal prison they were kept in, seeking only to silence their insatiable hunger.
One stream of horrors was directed towards the bridge, the other to Sabian and the Maiden of Flame’s position in the docking bays. This effectively cut off the Titans from their escape route, and if the docking bay could not be held, ending all chances of escape.
With every monster that fell, two more where there to replace it. Pyoter’s heavy gun was glowing from the heat of sustained fire. If the heat did not cause the weapon to melt, then the depleting ammo would cause the weapon to stop firing soon.
Whichever came first, the rest of the squad’s weapons would not be enough to hold back the tide.
Pyoter was yelling over the gunfire, constantly reporting his weapon status. “Less than five hundred left!” Pyoter yelled, the barrel of his weapon red hot, the heat causing sparks with every bullet that left the weapons. It would not last much longer, the barrel would warp and their bullet battering ram would cease its relentless firing.
“Rivers! Report!” Nathan asked with clear strain in his voice. He was the closest to the door, and he had already switched from ranged to melee, choosing to use his shield to batter the beasts into the hail of bullets streaming into the corridor.
Christian had moved up to the other side of the door, mimicking his brother’s moves, funnelling the monsters into the lines of fire. The two worked together to not let any of the creatures break free, but it was a losing battle.
The Titans were already being pushed back, the bodies of the dead infected piled up around the portal of leading into the bridge. More and more were scrambling over the pulped dead, making the floor of the bridge run red with infected blood.
If they survived the trap, they would have to put the dead bodies to flame, before the spores from the infection spread throughout the vessel. Everyone was trained to avoid the deadly spores released by the infected dead, all of the normal soldiers already using sealed respirator units inside their helmets.
“Roger can’t do much more,” Rivers replied while he fired at the brutes rushing at him, he and Xander were crouched next to each other, firing their short range shotguns into the press of bodies. Pyoter’s bullets missed the top of their heads by mere inches, but it did not bother them, they had used this formation many times on previous operations. “He can close the door, but it won’t close all the way, they will still get through.”
Locke was on top of a console next to Pyoter, firing down at an angle at the monsters scurrying over their dead. There was no camaraderie between the nightmares, their clawed and bladed limbs ripping into each other, alive or dead, as they clambered over one another to reach the fresh meat first. “Xander can plug the hole with his grenades. Close the doors!”
“It will take a few more minutes,” Rivers replied, reloading his shotgun.
“Aren’t you glad I brought them Captain?” Xander added, his shotgun booming with every trigger pull, peppering the monsters with molten lead.
Locke did not reply. He risked a glance at the Lancers behind nearby consoles; he was not surprised to see that their nerves were holding. The Lancers were all firing at the creatures Nathan and Christian were funnelling into the kill zone, helping the shield-bearing Titans to keep the flanks from breaking.
Locke was about to turn his head back to the portal when the sound of Pyoter’s weapon clicking dry caused an eerie moment of silence.
The real fight was about to begin, and with it the death toll would rise, on both sides.
Pyoter discarded his weapon, something that pained him immensely, but his favoured heavy weapon was ruined beyond repair. Its barrel melted into slag moments after its ammo reserves ran out. Ammo counts for the rest of the Wolves made a bad situation even worse.
Xander was out of shells, his pistol was all he had lef
t, and he held that in reserve for when it was most needed. River’s weapon was also dry. Locke and the brothers were the only ones left with a few clips for their Kickers.
In the absence of weapons constant firing a battle silence had settled over the bridge, the age-old sound of flesh falling on blades. Nathan and Christian were tied up in melee struggles with the enemy, holding the doors as best they could, the mass of bodies clogging the corridor giving the Wolves some respite. The corridor’s width and the sheer size of the bridge doors had made it easier for the Beast to move forward and trample over their own dead, now it was littered with infected bodies, slowly filling the corridor with dead flesh. Rivers had moved to help Roger, trying to help the little automaton get the door closed, he could be heard cursing in his drawl over the inter-squad radio. Xander had joined the melee with his double blades, holding one in each hand, slashing at anything that came near. His strength helped disembowel a monster rushing at him through the door, the sound of its insides hitting the floor drowned out by the clash of Titan against Beast.
Locke was still on the console, desperately trying to contact Sabian, the Maiden or even the Hyperion. Static interfered with all external channels; the AIE’s signal jamming making communication almost impossible. But the machine could only control the digital systems, and knew nothing about the backup analogue channels military personnel used. These channels were created specifically to combat against AIE jamming during the war centuries ago. Locke hoped Sabian, or anyone, would be listening on the old channels.
“Sabian? Gunn? We are cut off on the bridge, heavy resistance blocking our path back to the Maiden. Report if you can hear me!” Locke asked over the old analogue channels. He was more than just relieved to hear the voice of commander Sabian reply to his call.
