Jon-29

by Gary Mark Lee



  JON-29

  TALES of the OUTLANDS

  BY

  GARY MARK LEE

  Copyright 2013 Gary Mark Lee

  Chapter 1.

  The War.

  No one knew just how the war began, some said it was an accident caused by some malfunctioning computer, a burned out circuit that overloaded another circuit that flashed a warning that lead to a finger on a button that burned the whole earth. Still others said that it was caused by a selected group saying that their God was more powerful than another’s group and that lead to a gathering of believers who heard their God speaking to them to annihilate those who did not pray to their deity, and now all those chosen by that Divinity are sitting with him in some green pastured Afterlife. But wise men and women of the Before Time said it was inevitable that the war should happen for it was written that all should be destroyed before a lasting peace should cover the land.

  But they were wrong.

  Peace did not come and the war raged on and on, burning, ripping, devouring all that stood in its way, it was a hideous great beast that knew no fear or wisdom or mercy or ending and it roamed the world consuming everything with fire and steel and an insatiable desire to destroy. Those that started the war were long forgotten, a dim memory in some long ago past that now seemed more like a fever dream to anyone who heard the story.

  Many more ages passed and still the war raged on, it reached into every corner of the world, every mountain and river, every city and village, the world became a burning factory of death and destruction, every effort of humanity was channeled to war and the fantastic weapons of war. Soon the combatant nations banded together into two sides, each thinking that they would inevitably conquer. One side relied on machines of vast intelligence surrounded by impenetrable steel hoping to overpower those that stood against them with mathematical perfection.

  The other side chose creatures of the earth, beasts of land, sea and air, they were captured and genetically alter to enhance their natural instinct for killing and their bodies were given power to endure the rigors of battle. With these creatures they hoped to overcome with nature at their side. Those nations that didn’t chose a side were quickly destroyed for it is the nature of humans that they see things in black and white, good and evil, right or wrong, those that live in the grey are never understood and their voices are smothered under the cry for vengeance.

  Still more dark centuries passed, bio-warfare rose up and horrible diseases were unleashed that attacked the body and mind, many died screaming as they watched their flesh decay others forgot their souls and tore at those they loved in a blind fury of pain and madness, and as soon as a vaccine was perfected for an infection another would rise up to take its place. Vast landscapes were converted to places of petulance and they became known as the Poison Lands, there inhabitance were horrible creatures baring very little resemblance to humans.

  The population dwindled to a handful, those few that tried to evade the holocaust soon reverted to the basest of humans, preying on each other for food, human flesh became their nectar, but even they were used to make war, and those that did not die rose up to take from those weaker so that the wastelands of the earth became the home of the Scavengers.

  The Wastelands, a ruined land of broken cities and unburied dead, the hidden place of deadly creatures and vile beasts too horrible to mention, parched, baked, jagged, all traces of the Before Time gone, and scattered here and there were remnants of past civilization, forgotten places that once were thriving metropolitan areas teaming with humanity each one going about their business and never thinking that someday all they cherished would vanish.

  The City itself had lost its name and now it’s only inhabitance were sub-humans and mutated humanoids called Scavengers, half man half beast, these vile creatures sustained themselves on raw flesh and it didn’t matter what kind, they would consume whatever they could kill, be it human or some creature of the Outland, they traveled in packs adding to their strength which was considerable, created without fear anything that crossed their path died in agony. And into this forbidden place moved a metal monster that could blot out the sun and crush all in its path.

  Earthshaker.

  It rose up like a mountain of steel, a huge armored beast that filled the air with smoke and the smell of massive Corbalight engines, it traveled on titanic moving treads that ground rock and steel like a miller ground wheat, anything that was left of civilization was crushed without mercy, in appearance it resembled a great iron centipede, each colossal segment linked to the one before it and undulating like some prodigious prehistoric worm. The sound it released was like the screaming of a millions dammed souls and now and then it emitted a blast that could be heard for miles and warned anything living that death was approaching.

  The great machine was once the flagship of a massive land attack division made up of all types of attack and defensive weapons platforms, light and heavy destroyers, pursuers and material retrievers, personal hunters and repairers, information gatherers and probes to find and relay information back to central command, but in the many years since the beginning of the conflict one by one they were destroyed or disabled, the colossal Earthshaker called Armageddon was now the only reminder of that once great strength.

  High up at the top of the metal monster was the control center, the brain of the beast, the place where the Commander sat and decided who should live and who should die.

  The Commander or AA-1as his designation required slumped in his control chair as his metal leg began to trouble him.

  “Where is the flesh-tec that I sent for?” his voice was hard and fast and everyone in the control room knew that if the technician didn’t come soon someone would pay with their life.

  AA-1 the superior officer in charge of the Armageddon was a seasoned warrior, he had fought at the battle of Long-river and was there when the army of the Central-zone met their end, he lost his leg in the conflict but he had his revenge when he personally executed a thousand of the enemy using only his replacement appendage, his face was scarred and there was a large metal plate covering the right side of his hairless skull, he also had his inner jaw replaced and covered in Plasti-flesh but rather than the ivory colored teeth that usually were added to make a more pleasing image he had them replaced with steel projections, now when he opened his mouth it made him look like a flesh-grinder rather than human.

  The Commander continued to rub his upper thigh, the place where his bionic leg was attached to his flesh, ordinarily a new replacement appendage would be genetically grown for him and he would be good as new but over the years his DNA had grown weak and a simple replacement was no longer an option.

  “Where is the flesh-tec? He shouted.

  Everyone waited for someone to speak up, but all of them also knew that if the Commander wasn’t satisfied with the answer there would be trouble, but at last the personal officer rose from his chair.

  “The technician is on the way AA one” he said with a slight waver in his voice.

  The one legged man looked at him with cold eyes, “when?” he asked dryly.

  The personal officer was about to respond when the heavy door to the Commander center opened and in raced a flesh-tec breathing hard, he moved quickly across the hard floor, his hand scanner held tight in a sweaty fist and stood at attention before the Commander with his head down.

  “I apologize for the wait-time, it won’t happen again”.

  There was a long pause as the Commander looked him over, then he spoke with a low voice saying only two words.

  “My leg”.

  Quickly the nervous technician moved to the Commander’s left leg and began to look it over, after fiddling with some control buttons he took his hand scanner and ran
it up and down the surface of the fabricated limb and when it had done its work he look at the reading and spoke, “your support leg needs to be taken to repair, there I can run a dieo and see what the snafu is”.

  The Commander thought this over for a moment, “very well, but have it back by Oh-Nine hun, or you’ll spend the rest of your life in waste removal”.

  The Technician twisted the leg to the right and then the left and with a loud “snap” and a small shower of sparks the mechanical appendage was removed from its attachments, the flesh-tec stood tall and saluted with his free hand, “Oh-Nine hun, understood AA one”, then he turned and quickly left the room.

  The Commander adjusted himself in his hard seat but with his leg missing he couldn’t find a comfortable position and he was about to yell at somebody when the scan-tec officer spoke. “Sir, I have a combatant reading at nine-six, four, five, heavy Komodo on a heading straight for us”.

  “All stop!” the Commander said and the huge machine ground to a halt. “Adjust main guns to nine-six, four, five and make ready to fire on my orders”.

  Outside the powerful Fazic projectors moved into position with a rusty grinding sound, there were six of the huge guns each one possessing enough energy to shatter thick Itarian steel.

  The Commander waited and enjoyed the feeling of power that swept over him, like all military men he relished the thought of destroying his enemies.

  “FIRE!” he shouted.

  And the control room reverberated to the sound of death.

  The sky filled with fire and smoke as beams of energy ripped through the air, and when the power blasts found their mark the air shattered.

  The targets were a company of Dragon-warriors or Outriders; they were called that because of the great creatures that they use for travel and defense, Komodo beasts, huge six legged animals with armor plated skin and a wide head supporting two long horns, for all their size they could move quick and were well trained to carry their riders into battle and show no fear. Guiding these beasts was a rider and behind them in a small armored section was the weapons controller with a twin-barreled blaster, these were small pig-like creatures called Coshinoids that were bred for task-work, they were loyal to their units and never ran from a battle, they were also clever with their hands and made excellent repairers, their only flaw was their insatiable appetites, they would eat whenever they found food and it didn’t matter if that nourishment was a ration pack or some vermin of the land.

  The command rider was human, although genetically engineered for maximum strength and durability; they controlled the beasts direction and added their front weapon to the attack, this armament was small in comparison to the massive guns of the Earthshaker but it was almost as deadly, it relied on a molecular disrupter at its core to dissolve the cohesive bonds between atoms and disintegrate whatever it was targeted at.

  The Armageddon’s control room rocked to the incoming weapons fire of the enemy.

  “What’s the snafu with your tracking, I thought we had a lock?” the Commander shouted.

  “Neg sir, they’re blocking our sensors with image generators”.

  Glancing at his control screen the superior officers could see targeting blips appear then disappear so he understood that any weapons hits would be lucky ones, “prepare the Runners!”. He said.

  The orders of the superior officer were quickly relayed to the hanger bay near ground level.

  The hanger bay was huge and filled with all manner of things, pursuit tanks in need of repair, graphite bombs, inter-proton generators and hundreds of battle tested soldiers ready to do their duty. And some of the strangest of these were the Runners, they were human but with super-massive leg muscles that gave them fantastic speed in covering land, the upper portion of their bodies were thin and from the look in their eyes it was easy to see that they had very limited intelligence. They wore tight suits with a large power pack strapped to their backs and on their feet they wore spiked shoes to better grip the ground.

  A Master weapons-tech check the explosive back packs then spoke into his com-link.

  “Runners one through twelve ready for deployment” he said.

  “Deploy runners” was the reply from the control room.

  Quickly the weapons-tech opened the hatch to the outside then turned to the Runners, “target!” he said pointing to the oncoming Komodo beasts.

  “Explode now!” the runners said in unison then sprinted from the hanger bay.

  The Runners reached maximum speed in a matter of seconds, their powerful legs were almost a blur as they headed for their chosen targets, their sensors emitted a “beeping” sound as they neared their objective and they didn’t flinch even as blasts of energy struck the ground around them and killed several of their kind, dodging and whirling through the maelstrom of steel and ruins they continued onward, as they grew closer to their enemy more of them died but there were enough left to find their mark.

  On the front of their uniforms was a large round button like device, when it came in contact with a solid object it sent a signal to the pack-back and Runner and enemy died in a shattering explosion.

  Inside the control room the weapons technician checked his readings “three heavy Komodo eliminated”.

  “Very good” the Commandant smiled as he rubbed the stump of his leg. “But we don’t have victory”.

  “AA one, four additional targets approaching from the west bearing two, two, fire, appear to be heavy enforcers”, reported one of the scanner-readers.

  The Commander knew that heavy enforcers could easily outflank him but he wasn’t ready to turn tail and run just yet, “continue attack and alert tank bay to deploy Crawler team”.

  The tank bay was almost at large as the hanger section but this division was filled with a company of highly maneuverable and deadly Mini-tanks, these were armored one person attack vehicles that carried the latest weaponry and a bio-mechanical command controller, it was technically called the multi-task, over view, tactical, hyper-active, error-null, repair unit or MOTHER for short. These mechanisms were used extensively throughout the many interfaces of the great machine, they could be programs for a variety of different uses, medical, information gathering, repair, supply and disbursement, their intelligence was equal and sometime superior to that of a human. Now each attack machine was equipped with an M.O.T.H.E.R main controller along with two smaller but equally useful bio-brains, Weapons and Power.

  Each different type Mini-tank was useful in a battle situation and together they made up a powerful attack force. Five of the Mini-tanks stood before giant round hatchways in the great war-machine, technicians activate the machines and the air is filled with a high whining sound.

  Inside one of the tanks with the markings J.O.N sat the driver, a young man in his early twenties but his handsome face bore many scars, on his thick neck are markings, J.O.N with the number 28 below it, this signified his unit and designation. He sat strapped in his command chair wearing a battle resistant suit and an info-helmet on his head, from his abdomen ran an umbilical cord as thick as a man’s wrist, this hose relays information about his body functions and supplies him with needed nutrients and other stimulants to keep in in top physical form.

  His designation is Jon-28 because he has been killed and brought back to life 28 times.

  As of this moment his eyes are closed and his face is motionless, then the control panel in front of him lights up and his eyes open.

  Over the voice relay comes a calm soothing female voice, it is Mother, “Jon twenty eight time to wake up, engage enemy, destroy enemy”.

  Jon-28 grabs the steering controls and begins to tap touch panels on several of the LED screens surrounding him, the panels light up.

  “Yes Mother” the young man says quietly, “activating systems now”.

  Another mechanical voice is heard in the room, it is deep and resonating, it is Weapons, “weapons are at maximum charge and
ready for action”.

  Next comes a softer but strong voice, it is Power, “power is fully charged”.

  With everything in readiness Mother talks to her child, “Jon twenty eight, seek and destroy”.

  “Yes Mother” Jon replies, “seek and destroy”.

  The five heavy hatches opens, wide ramps extend to the ground and the clawer team moves out, with explosions all around them they maneuver through the broken city and plow through fallen rubble and they search for the enemy.

  Inside his armored Mother Jon-28 sits confidently and checks his sensors then speaks into his com-link to the other members of his team, “I am on point, assault formation twelve, activate, vector one four, multiple outriders detected”.

  A return voice is heard over the com, “this is Jac fourteen, AA eight and RIC twelve on flank”.

  “This is AA eight, affirm on flank”.

  “RIC twelve eight reporting on flank”.

  Jon-28 again checks his readings, “mac twenty eight, rear guard”.

  “Mac twenty eight here, rear guard check”.

  Jon-28 is satisfied that all is ready, “weapons, activate”.

  Weapons made a quick report, “all weapons charged and ready”.

  With all the readings in the green Jon-28 leans back in his command chair as Mother speaks to him, “seek and destroy Jon twenty eight”.

  “Yes Mother”.

  Jon holds his command controls tightly in his strong hands and checks to make sure his target in in range, it is and he fires.

  The Mini-tank rocks form the force of the weapons fire and in a matter of seconds one of the Outriders is consumed in a horrific impact.

  But the Komodo riders keep coming, they return fire with their weapons and Jon’s vehicle is hit hard but the thick armored plating holds and there is only minor damage.

  “Armaments are at eighty percent”, Weapons reported.

  “Energy is at eighty seven percent and holding” Power commented.

  “Affirm” Jon replied as he once more singled out a target.

  “Seek and destroy” Mother said.

  “Yes Mother, I will seek and destroy”.

  The titanic Earthshaker continued to receive enemy hits on its metal hide, but although wounded it didn’t retreat.

  There was smoke in the command center but not enough to shake the confidence of the Commander, “continue attack” he shouted.

  And although several of the technicians were wounded they knew that if they faltered in their work they would die in agony at the hands of their leader so they ignored the pain and stayed at their posts.

  The Commander was angry that he only had one leg and couldn’t stand but he still barked out orders and made sure that they were obeyed, “signal Crawler team, engage Outriders bearing mark seven three heading mark nine!”

  “Clawer team notified AA one, targets acquired.”

  Then came a report that the senior officer didn’t like, “sir, I have fast movers on my screen, they appear to be shrikes at bearing seven five, fifteen hundred meters and dropping”.

  In the sky above the huge machine a formation of five flying cyborgs began moving downward, these men and women had hugely developed torsos and arm muscles, enough so that they could flap the lightweight metal wings that were attached to them, they were known as Shrikes, flying mutants that were bio-manufactured to make the sky their home. Each one was equipped with a discharge weapons and grounding bombs, now one by one they peeled off from their formation and dived on the mountain of steel. The ground rushed up fast as the Shrikes fell earthward, then at the last moment they released their payload and the Armageddon was hit hard.

  Inside the control room AA-1 felt the full impact of the attack as more smoke filled the chamber.

  “Continue attack” the Commander called out, “fire all weapons!”

  The Mini-tanks continue to advance, they rolled through the ruined city streets ignoring they destruction they were causing, then as the crawler team rounded a corner they were hit by enemy fire.

  Mac-8 takes a direct hit and goes up in flames.

  AA-8 is crushed as a building collapse from a near miss but the remaining Outriders press forward.

  Inside his tank Jon-28 isn’t affected, he controls his armored vehicle with precision and incredible skill, and he should for he was trained from birth to be the ultimate weapons controller and even if he had been killed twenty eight times he continued on the path he was bred for.

  A new blip appears on the view screen, “New target” Jon said, “bearing seven one nine, targets acquiring”.

  Weapons was quick to respond, “shrikes at nine o’clock high, range two nine six”.

  Jon quickly punches several touchscreen and a new view lights up, it shows overhead and the flying enemy falling from the sky.

  “All units deploy sky-fire” he says into his com-link.

  A small but powerful multi-barreled weapon emerged from a hatch on the Mini-tanks upper deck, it rotates skyward directly at the oncoming human birds, when they are in range the gun activates and releases a cloud of hardened projectiles in the air. The Shrikes try to evade the onslaught but one by one they are brought down by the skill of Jon and his unit. The flying warriors fall in flames and crash into the baked earth, one of the mutant human’s crashes into Jac-14 Mini-tank blowing it to pieces and killing the driver, the other battle-tanks keep firing and one by one the flying warriors are destroyed soon the sky is clear of danger.

 

  Jon-28 checks his screen to make sure there is no longer a threat.

  “Shrikes eliminated, switching to primary targets, units report”.

  Quickly the other members of the unit check in.

  “RIC twelve reporting damaged but serviceable, Jac fourteen is hit”.

  Jon-28 tapes on his screen and looks at the display once more, he can see the huge losses to his unit but it doesn’t seem to faze him in the least.

  “Jac twenty four is destroyed, RIC fourteen is sole remaining unit, deploy and engage enemy”

  “This is RIC fourteen, affirm”.

  Jon continues the fight and checks his status.

  “Weapons report?”

  Weapons reports quickly, “weapons are not damaged”.

  “Power report?”

  “Power is a seventy percent”.

  The soothing voice of Mother speaks to her child, “good boy”.

  This brings a smile to the face of Jon.

  The Mini-tank now heads for the enemy Outriders, the huge armored scaled reptiles move stealthily towards the giant war-machine, as they do their riders fire weapons and yell encouragement to their fellow combatants.

  RIC-14 passes alleyway and an Outriders emerges from its hiding place behind a rusty hulk, its forward cannon blasts and the RIC unit sustains a direct hit, there is no time for the driver to escape and he and his armored vehicle are destroyed in a thunderous explosion.

  Meanwhile the huge war-machine is hit by two gigantic bursts of weapons fire, and the giant mountain of moving steel is engulfed in a maelstrom of flame and smoke, the main control room is rapidly filling with foul vapors but the automatic fire-suppression mechanism put out the fire with chemical spray.

  “Track the trajectory of the last incoming and return fire” the Commander shouted as he covered his mouth trying to stop the mist that was now surrounding him.

  “Affirm” called out one of the technicians.

  The Commander quickly surveyed the damage around him and to his battleship; he knew that another direct hit could cause permanent impairment or even total destruction.

  “Initiate damage control on all levels, increase air filtration and move to waypoint H-seven, NOW!”

  Slowly the Armageddon begins to move, a steel mountain once more come to life, as it turns it is hit by several more energy beams but it manages to survive, now it lumbers s
lowly over the broken terrain like some gigantic wounded animal and retreats from the battle field leaving its outlaying forces behind.

  Jon-28 is unaware of Central-control leaving but even if he did it wouldn’t have altered his orders to seek and destroy, he sits calmly and continues to fire at his enemy, his movements are calculated and no energy is wasted, his hands move like lighting never missing a target and instantly calculating his next move far in advance. As he does Mother receives a steady stream of information on her child’s wellbeing, his heart rate, core temperature, blood pressure and a thousand other minute details are given to her and she in turn gives him just the right amount of stimulates or suppressants so that his action are the highest they can be.

  “Jon twenty eight, your actions are superior” the mechanical voice said, “I am pleased”.

  “Affirm” Jon replied, “I will seek and destroy the enemy, I will make you proud”.

  And true to his word his Mini-tank targets and destroys three of the oncoming Outriders, the first two are hit head on and die instantly, the third is caught under a falling wall that Jon’s weapons had weakened, technically it wasn’t a clean kill but destroying an enemy by whatever means was acceptable in the rules of war.

  Now there is only one Outlander left, the rider hides behind a large broken wall of rock and steel and her Komodo beast comes to a halt and we can see that the enemy is a woman.

  She is tall and well-built and her form fitting armor is covered in dirt and grime, on her head she wears a helmet set with two short horns a symbol of the Komodo riders, on her ankles are tow seven inch long spurs that she uses to guide her beast, but despite all that one could call her attractive, she seems in her early twenties but it would be hard to tell for it was well known that Outriders age slowly and some can still fight well into old age.

  The young girl who designation is KT-7 turns in her worn saddle to the small pig-like tail-gunner behind her.

  “Entrago morali Tanagra tic-tarmeco” she spoke in the language of her tribe but in the All-speak communication that was most common in her time it translated to (deploy all fire into that tank-clawer when I signal).

  “Artro! (Affirm)” said the little creature and then he checked his twin blaster to make sure it was on full power.

  KT-7 reached down and strokes the thick neck flap on the huge beast under her, “Neco-traas, Jockarno Te-youngra-morga” (we will crack that wheel jockey and then I will take you home).

  The thick hided creature let out a long roar and then raced forward at the command of its rider.

  It was met by the well-aimed fire from Jon-28’s machine, but the thick hide of the beast and its speed and maneuverability made a direct hit very hard and in return Jon’s tank was being damaged.

  “Remain calm” Mother said as she began pumping a higher level of nerve suppressants into the abdominal tube to her child, “Seek and destroy”.

  “Affirm” replied Jon and he continued to control his machine and fire all his weaponry.

  “Energy is at sixty present and dropping”, Power reported, “We have seven point eight more encounter markers before we have to withdraw”.

  Weapons report was not far behind, “main armament is online but damaged to guidance”.

  “Affirm”.

  But even with targeting damage Jon was still finding his mark, one blast struck very near the Komodo beast and several pieces of shrapnel cut deep into its thick hide and it roars in pain.

  “Targo me-tango Jocura-jumpic!” (Die you metal headed cog jumper!) The wounded rider shouted as she fired again and again at the metal intruder.

  But behind her the tail-gunner was not so lucky, a stray fragment of metal found its way between his armor and penetrated into its spinal cord killing in instantly, his blaster goes silent.

  Smoke begins to fill the cramped control room of the Mini-tank then another blast was felt and a jagged piece of the interior is blow loose and pierces the left thigh of Jon-28, Jon’s leg is suddenly on fire with pain.

  “Do not concern Jon twenty eight, your vital signs are strong” Mother’s voice was calm and reassuring, “you will not terminate”.

  Fluids pump down the umbilical cord and into the body of the young man, slowly the bleeding stops and the pain is lessoned, mechanical probes with claws extend for the inner wall of the control room and remove the burning piece of metal from Jon’s leg. Then there is a flash of light as the wound is cauterized, a Plasti-flesh covering is put into place and sealed tight, the mechanical arms retracted.

  Mother once more speaks, “temporary repairs completed, functionality is at eighty present, good boy”.

  With the pain gone and his wound sealed Jon once more goes on the attack, he clears his mind and takes careful aim at the last Outrider.

  He fires.

  The Outriders beast is hit hard on it armored head, it roars in pain then falls to the ground and KT-7 is thrown through the air to land hard on her back, but remarkably she raises to her feet and pulls a small handgun from a holster at her side she continues to fire at the metal monster that is bearing down on her.

  “Vitrogo N Death” (Victory or death!) she screams, but her weapon is far too small to do any real damage, then she sees her dead Komodo and runs to it, she manages to turn the main weapon to towards the Mini-tank and presses the trigger.

  There is a blast of energy and Jon tank sustain a direct hit, but not before it fires once more at the fallen Komodo, KT-7 manages to jump clear as her beast and all of its supplies is hit again, this ignites the ammunition and several more blasts destroys what is left of her mount. The young warrior girl lifts her shelf up and smiles as her well-aimed shot finds its mark, then she collapses and darkness takes her.

  The last blast from the Outrider slams into the side of Jon’s vehicle and rips into its armored hull, the heavy crawlers spins wildly and then crashes into a concrete and steel wall, the force is strong enough to stop the forward motion of the speeding machine and it comes to a grinding halt.

  Inside the control room warning lights begin to flash along with thick smoke and flame, immediately more fire retardant mist sprays out.

  Jon sits unconscious in his control sit, if it wasn’t for his restraining straps he would have been tossed around the metal chamber like a toy, his once handsome face is torn and bloody, his left arm is missing and there is a deep hole in his side.

  “Damage to all systems” reports Power, “energy is draining, not sufficiently for movement”.

  “Weapons are offline”.

  “Affirm” Mother said, “Channel all remaining power into life support for Jon twenty eight he must not terminate”.

  But there was some differences opinion in the metal minds of the different systems.

  “If we use up all reaming power for life support we may not be able to make repairs and be defeated” Power said, “control drivers can be replaced”.

  “I concur” Weapons relied, “we are a mark one combat-tanker, we should use all reaming power to return to command central”.

  “Neg” Mother answered, “life support for Jon twenty eight will be our main function all other concerns will be secondary”.

  There was a long silence in the control room then the ventilators began to clear the air and it was clear that the orders of Mother would be obeyed.

  Some distance from the fallen Mini-tank the great war-machine rolled across the landscape, its hull showed a great deal of damage and one of her Corbalight engines was smoking badly, but the superstructure seemed to be intact and with some time and energy it could be repaired and fight another day.

  The air in the control room began to clear as a technician gave a report to the Commander.

  “Multiple hits to fire control, medium damage to blast shielding and tracking systems”.

  This made the Commander less angry then before for he knew with time and effort he would be able to destroy the enemy once
again, “very well, continue on course to a safe area and make repairs”.

  “Affirm” said the tec.

  “Outrider enemy has been eliminated, all clawer units are terminated”, came another report.

  “Affirm” said AA-1, “make heading forty six nine to section nine five, disengage active tracking, deploy smoke”.

  Then one more technician reported, “We had a deep penetration that set off the Pentagmite magazines but the blast panels held and damage is contained”.

  The Commander didn’t reply for his missing leg was hurting him and everyone knew not to tax him further with information.

  Outside the huge machine continued away from the city, behind it left more ruins and dead but that was its purpose and the dream of war.

  Amid the broken city’s crumbling ruins Jon’s Mini-tank laid half buried under several tons of rock and steel, beside it is another machine, but this one is not a mechanism of war but one for building, it had a large crane and two mechanical arms fitted with large claws, it was built long ago in the Before time when there was some chance of peace and before that hope vanished and all thoughts turned to destruction and death. But it still had most of its parts and perhaps someday it might be made to work once more?

  Inside all effort to save the life of Jon-28 have failed, his wounds were too deep and all life functions have terminated, several of the readout screen showed that his vital organs had shut down and all brain wave activity had ended, he was dead.

  Power was the first to report on the condition of the driver, “control drivers life force has ended, replacement should be acquired”.

  This was backed up by Weapons, “we must regain our ability to defend ourselves, driver unit is nonfunctional we should conserve energy and return to command central”.

  But Mother had heard all this before, after all Jon-28 had been killed many times in the past and brought back to life, but would it work with so much damage to his body structure?

  “We will attempt reanimation of Jon twenty eight” Mother ordered.

  “Our energy is only at twenty percent, it is not enough for reanimation” Power knew that any drain on their energy cells might prove fatal to all systems.

  But Mother was determined to have her child back, “repeat, reanimation will be attempted on Jon twenty eight, I must have him back!”

  Ordinarily the M.O.T.H.E.R control system would not have used up her remaining power in an attempt to bring back a control driver, they would simply discard the human and use the remaining power to return to base and there the Bio-mind would be given a new replacement human to train. But there was something different about this controller, something that the programmers did not foresee, after so many cycles of combat and training this unit had developed a close bond with her “child” something that went beyond her simulated human characteristics, something not found in circuits and wiring.

  Love.

  Now there are many who would argue that a machine can’t love, after all they are simply a mass of wiring and circuitry but along with all the hardware Mother was composed of a biogenetic substance that was grown from human tissue and because of that some might say that having the ability to love was well within the realm of reality. So following her “emotions” Mother began the process of restoring life to her child.

  The command chair that the lifeless body of Jon twenty eight occupied was leveled out into a flat surface and the restraining straps that held him were retracted back into the chair, then from small storage lockers inside the control room tiny but highly skilled service robots emerged and began their delicate work. First they removed the Jon’s torn uniform and helmet, and then they detached any bits of metal from the cold flesh of the human and other foreign material that filled the wounds. The thick umbilical cord that ran to Jon’s abdomen still remained for that was the central way that information was transferred to Mother and in turn she would supply her child with whatever he needed to live once more.

  When that was done a scanning device moved out from the wall and moved slowly up and down the corpse.

  “Internal damage to heart and liver” the mechanical voice of the scanner reported, “four broken ribs, head and facial wounds and the left arm has been severed at the elbow”.

  “Affirm” Mother said, “Commence repairs”.

  Immediately the Service-bots began their work, they entered the body through the wounds and with Jon’s genetic format as a guide they replaced damaged cells with new ones, heart, liver, eyes, all were implanted, then they inserted three steel ribs where the broken ones were and a new jaw and portions of the skull and covered the whole in biosynthetic flesh. But replacing the missing limb would be a problem.

  “Insufficient genetic material for replacement of left appendage”, the Med-scanner reported, “recommend temporary mechanical survival arm three one, one”.

  “Affirm” Mother answered, “Temporary replacement is acceptable”.

  The Service-bots worked fast for passing time would only make the chances of reanimation far more difficult; they attached a standard survival arm onto the humans left elbow and connected it with a neural possessor to Jon’s brain. The arm was equipped with all the latest technology, tactile sensors at the fingertips that were far superior to organic ones; it also had enemy detection, water and food analysis, and an Itarian steel knife for self-defense. The Service-bots worked hard but at last all was repaired and the small machines returned to their storage containers.

  “Energy is now at twenty percent” Power reported, “any attempt at reanimation will prove useless”.

  But Mother would not be detoured, “driver repair sequence completed, personality core stable, opening stasis loop, initiate reanimation”.

  Long cable begin to emerge from the command chair an attach themselves to different parts of Jon’s lifeless body, two at the skull and several more at the torso and limbs, these would carry the electrical bio-plasma charge that would activate the synthetic replacement parts and hopefully bring life once more.

  The lights inside the control chamber dimmed and a low hum began to fill the air, then a flash of light and the body of Jon-28 begins to jerk, it spasms for a moment or two then lays motionless once more.

  “Energy is down another five percent; recommend no further effort to reanimate”.

  Ignoring the recommendations of Power Mother continues in her determination, “insert glycogenic compound, and boost power level to three”.

  “Boosting power level to three is dangerous” Weapons called out, “energy at that level can kill a human”. But Weapons did not fully understand that Jon was already dead and could no longer be hurt by any level of weapons fire.

  Fluids ran down the umbilical cord and into Jon’s body then when Mother was satisfied with the results she spoke once more, “commence energy influx at lever three”.

  Again the lights in the chamber dimed and then another bolt of energy surged through the dead human, the body convulsed once, twice, three times then lay still once more, there was a moment then nothing happened then Jon gasped in a lungful of air.

  He was alive once more.

  Slowly he opened his eyes and looked around his metal home.

  “Mother?” he said weakly.

  The command chair slowly moved back into its upright position and Jon was able to take in his surrounding, “Mother, what occurred?”

  “Your metabolism was terminated and you were put into personality stasis, repair sequences were initiated and completed, you have been reanimated, you are now capable of adequate function and command drive back to moving base of operations, your new designation will be Jon twenty nine.”

  “Understood Mother” Jon said coolly.

  A small arm-device moved out of the chair and towards Jon’s neck, a light beam shot out and burned away the insignia that marked the human designation, with a sizzle of burning flesh the number 29 was removed and replaced
by 29, finally a healing spray was administered and the mechanism retreated back where it came from.

  Being killed and brought back to life might seem incredible to many but Jon had undergone this twenty eight times before starting at a very early age, and with each termination his designation had risen accordingly so adding one more number to an already impressive list did not seem out of the ordinary to him.

  “Is communication with main unit H.Q. possible?” he asked.

  “There is a communications malfunction and repairs at this time are not possible, our orientation is non-operable for communication and locomotion”.

  “Weapons?” he asked.

  Quickly Weapons responds, “Damage to weapons server, incapable of repairs”.

  “Power, report?”

  “Power is failing, only ten percent capacity”.

  Jon begins to check the readouts on his screens it was then that he notices the metal replacement arm, “there was no chance of genetic replacement of original part?”

  “Neg” Mother said, “Factory original part beyond repair replacement will be sufficient until return to main unit and superior medical attention”.

  “Affirm” Jon replied, “time to arrival of recovery units?”

  “Recovery not possible, main unit no longer in communication”.

  “Understood, we will follow our last command and seek and destroy the enemy!”

  “Default option no longer possible” Mother replied, “insufficient resources”.

  Jon-29 thought this over for a moment or two, “conclusion?” he asked coldly.

  “We are expended”.

  Again there was a pause from Jon, “understood, we are expended, options?”

  Mother took a bit longer to respond than normal, “None possible, we cannot repair to seek and destroy levels, driver unit has the option to terminate”.

  Terminating was the last resort of every command driver, they had been trained to never be taken captive because the enemy would place them into a pain amplifier and memory extractor and have access to their battle strategies and defense tactics. Each Mini-tank was equipped with a detonator that would set off a seven point nine destructive explosion that would disintegrate the machine and everything within a half-mil radius.

  Jon understood his orders and was prepared to do his duty, “I concur with the option for termination, falling into enemy hands is un-acceptable, driver unit authorizes termination”.

  “As the Mother system I concur with Jon twenty eight we will terminate, weapons?”

  “Weapons concur with this solution”.

  “Power report is termination acceptable?” Mother said.

  “Power concurs with option to terminate”.

  Hearing that all systems were in agreement Jon began adjusting his control settings to destroy himself and his machine, “Understood, setting termination in standard time mod”.

  In a moment or two a flashing red light appeared on his central screen, it began at ten and slowly counted down.

  Mother read off the numbers, “ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, goodbye Jon twenty nine, you were a good boy”.

  “Goodbye Mother” Jon said quietly then waited for the blast.

  But nothing happened.

  Jon looked at his screen, “is this termination?”

  “Neg” Mother said, “termination charge malfunction, diagnostics malfunction, we are unable to terminate”.

  There is no reaction from Jon and he just stares at his main-screen, “alternatives?”

  “Unknown” Mother replied, “I have suffered core damage, options unavailable”.

  “Understood” Jon continued to stare at his screen.

  Mother waited for a time and watched her child, then after a while she spoke, “you need rest”.

  “I am not fatigued” Jon replied.

  “I monitor your systems” the mechanical caretaker said, “correct procedures will be followed, rest”.

  A blue fluid began to run through the umbilical cord and into weary Jon’s body, slowly he closed his eyes and immediately he was fast asleep.

  But as he was falling asleep someone else was just waking up.

  KT-7 wasn’t dead; she had undergone blood loss and some superficial damage to her right arm and left leg but all her internal organs still functioned and she would live to fight another day.

  They young warrior opened her eyes and slowly sat up, her body felt like she had just fought off an attack by a rock crusher but with some effort she managed to rise to her feet. She looked down to see that her body was covered in Juice-suckers, rather large roach like insects that feed on liquid and bone marrow, with enough time they could drain her of all fluids.

  “Get off me you little dregs!” She shouted for although the girl was a strong and tested soldier she still had a deep loathing for creepy clawers of all kind. KT ran her hands swiftly over her arms, legs and torso and soon the vile vermin were removed.

  With the tiny creatures gone she removed her helmet and looked around her for any sign of danger and she quickly realized that luck was still on her side. No Scavengers had found her and

  She would not end up in the belly of the mutants, but that is where her luck ended for her Komodo was dead and all her supplies destroyed, and without them she had little hope of making her way back to her people.

  “Remember your training” she said, there was no one there of course but KT often talked to herself on long scouting missions, “the first thing is to take stock of what you have”.

  And she started to do just that, she had her survival knife, med-kit, simulants, direction calculator, small canteen and cranial info-connector, then she tried her com attached to her wrist.

  “KT seven to main force, KT seven to main force, connect!” but there was no response from her unit, they were either dead or too far away, next she tried her directional device but the power blast from the clawer had wiped all data from its core, without it she wouldn’t be able to find her home.

  The young girl looked up at the sky, night was falling and that would mean more danger.

  “Hide” she said.

  But before that she had a task to do, she would bury her tail-gunner and cover his small grave with rocks, it was the least she could do for her companion, when it was done darkness surrounded her, but she had one more thing to do, she stood looking down at the small pile of rocks.

  “You were a good gunner, you killed many of our enemies, and you died with honor”.

  And with those last words she stood tall and made a salute to her fallen comrade, and then she put her helmet back on and walked to a mass of stone and steel, crawled inside a small opening and vanished from site.

  Jon was dreaming, it wasn’t something he did often for the rest medications that were given to him blocked out that response from his system but for some reason his mind was filled with image of his past. He was a young child once more, his designation was JON-5 for he was destined to be a command driver in the J.O.N. units, the first four designations he didn’t remember but if he had he would have seen how he was created.

  Genetic material was inserted into an Alfa-one unit, this would keep the embryo safe and give it advanced nurturance and growth stimulators to ensure a fast development and the maximum in strength and endurance. If those standards are not met the embryo is terminated and the useful cells are harvested and the process begins over and the new designation is added, so Jon became two, then three, and then four, at that time he was taken out of development and his training started, at that stage he could walk and talk and therefore placed inside a Mother unit, she would oversee the next levels of training and reward or punish accordingly.

  In his dream he heard his Mother speak.

  “Jon five you must concentrate on your target and destroy it!”

  Jon’s tiny hands gripped the controls and guided the targeting do
t onto the enemy on his view screen.

  “When the target locked fire weapons” Mother said.

  But Jon was slow in locking the enemy and he missed, when that happened he was given a shock by Mother.

  “Ouch!” the little boy cried, “that hurt Mother”.

  “Of course it did Jon five, now concentrate on your target and you will be rewarded”.

  Jon tried once more and this time he succeeded, and therefore rewarded, Mother sent a small dose of pleasure stimulates through his umbilical cord and into his tiny body, the reaction was fast.

  “That feels good Mother” Jon said smiling.

  This pleased the mechanical caretaker, “yes, now do as Mother tells you to do and you will be a good boy”.

  Now the images flashed in Jon’s mind in a stream of memory.

  He was Jon six, seven, eight, nine, ten, the Earthshaker continued the war and it took damaged that sometimes ended the life of the young boy, at other times the cause of termination was the boys own fault, a miscalculation in trainer driving, to slow in combat encounter training, power overload because he did not pay attention to energy built ups, on and on it went, death and life, life and death, but always he came back.

  Then when he was Jon thirteen he was sent into combat.

  This was what he had trained all his life for and he didn’t disappoint, he skill at driving and weapons targeting made him one of the deadliest Jon units ever, his mind was like a computer, focused and clear, he could target and destroy several enemies at the same time both forward and rear, he could choose just the right ammunitions for a quick kill and he left nothing alive. But he paid a price, his designations rose quickly.

  Jon fourteen, fifteen, sixteen and so on, up and up, more killing, more destruction, more victories, it was his life and dead.

  But in times of rest his mind turned to other things, things that were not connected to war, things not made of steel, things that were soft and warm.

  Females.

  “Mother” he heard his mind say, “Why are there two kinds of command drivers?”

  This may sound strange to some of you for it would have been an easy matter to remove all traces of male and female differences in the growth period and that had been tried but after much evaluation they found that eliminating such things didn’t enhance destructive capability rather it declined them. Sex proved to be a valuable commodity in training for stimulation of female and male organs brought a quick responds.

  “Do not concern yourself with that” Mother said, “you must focus on the enemy and how to defeat them”.

  But Jon’s mind filled with images of soft flesh and not war.

  With the rising of the sun the creatures of the night began to look for a hiding place once more.

  A large Drool-rat moved fast across the broken concrete and steel beams that covered part of Jon’s Mini-tank, like others of its kind it was cunning and spent most of its time looking for food and avoiding predators. It had a hairy body with overlapping bands of bonelike plating on its back to add in its defense and its dripping mouth was filled with razor sharp teeth. It darted over a large piece of rubble then scampered inside the hole on the side of the armored vehicle.

  Inside it was dark, the perfect place for the rodent, it sniffed the air then skittered for the only sores of food in the chamber, Jon-29. It decided that the human’s right index finger would prove suitable and it bit hard into the soft flesh.

  Jon woke with a start and his hand closed like a trap, the small creature tried to bit his captor but Jon held on and examined the thing in his hand.

  “Mother” he said.

  And immediately the lights in the control room lite up and a mechanical voice is heard, “you require assistance Jon twenty nine?”

  Jon held up the rat so that the internal scanners could make an analysis. “info-scan”.

  The vile creature is surrounded by the scanner projectors and they begin their work.

  There were no rats inside the Armageddon due to the fact that they had small pet removal robots to take care of that problem and a J.O.N unit is sealed from within.

  Mother took a moment or two to check her information circuits, they were damaged but she was still able to call up the proper response, “it is a rattus rattus superior, also known as a Drool-rat, a large omnivorous Scavenger rodent”.

  Jon turns the creature around in his hand, “poisonous?”

  “non-venomous” Mother replied, “commonly carries of several varieties of disease causing microbes, several of which were tactically deployed early in the opening stages of the first Millennial war. You have received DNA modifications against all known varieties of these pathogens”.

  Jon looks into the face of the angry rodent, “characteristics?”

  There is a pause from Mother as she selects the right wording, and then she finds it.

  “Edible”.

  Jon units don’t carry standard food supplies; all nutrients are from Mother but that supply must be conserved so the young man takes a few moments to consider his alternatives then bit the head off the rat, chewed slowly then swallows.

  “The taste is sub-standard” Jon said.

  It was true that Jon didn’t take food my mouth very offended but in order to keep his internal organs functioning at a high level he was given food cubes and liquids from time to time.

  Mother had no need for nourishment and the word “taste” held not meaning to her at all but she was programed to care for her child and she did just that.

  “Drool-rat has sufficient nutrition to maintain basic life functions, finish your meal”.

  Jon quickly finished the rest of the rat.

  When he did Power made a report, “energy is diminishing, levels at only ten percent, all unnecessary systems are shut down”.

  “Affirm” Jon said wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “status of weapons?”

  Weapons voice is weak and it was clear that his capability was quickly eroding, “weapons? Weapons are……level one and...weapons are at level one…one…one?”

  Weapons at this time was not a prime concern so energy was only maintained at minimum so that its memory core would not be eliminated.

  Mother checked the life functions on Jon-29 once again, “you need rest” she said.

  Although he didn’t want to sleep he knew that Mother would only sedated him again so he complied with her demands, “Understood” he said softly, “will you tell me a story?” he asked.

  “Power should be conserved for necessary functions” Mother responded.

  “it would help me to rest” Jon’s voice held just the right amount of softest to get his way, he had learned this little trick long ago as a little boy and over the cycles it had proven useful.

  “Very well” Mother said, “the main system components of a J.O.N. armored fighting vehicle are as follows, One, driver unit, a bio-humanoid highly trained in the full use of the all offensive and defensive weaponry. Second is the multi-task, over-view, hyper-active, error-null repair unit or Mother, next is the weapons array, the main gun is a phase projector multiplane weapon with a maximum effective range of thirty-nine mils…..”

  Jon-29 closes his eyes as Mother’s soft voice continues to explain the different functions of the JON battle tank.

  Some distance from the armored machine a group of mutant Scavengers moves carefully down a crumbling street.

  They are tall and strongly built with broad shoulders and thickly muscled arms and legs, they wore torn cast off clothing with bits and pieces of metal attached for protection, and in their clawed hands they held jagged weapons of steel, there are six of them, more than enough to take down and kill most of the creatures in the Wastelands, but there prodigious strength made up for a defect in intelligence, in short they were dumb.

  But they had been created like that, they were used for preliminary attack only, to see how much r
esistance the enemy had, they were never meant to standard troopers and soon into the war they were eliminated as an effective use of materials, but many escaped the purge and scratched out an existence in the ruined cities. They continued to breed with other like them and sometimes even humans so now they were a dominate danger of the Wastelands.

  This particular group of hunters was led by a vicious leader, his face had been almost torn off in a fight with another Scavenger, but it managed to survive and attach a steel plate to its features, now “Metal-face” sniffed the air for any sign of flesh-food.

  After a moment or two he lifts his large hand and signals to the others of his kind to follow him, with lumbering strides they move down the street.

 

  KT-7 slowly emerges from her hiding place, she and spent the night very uncomfortably inside the cramp confides of her concrete and steel home, but that was only the half of it for that home was filled with biting Blaze-ants and Rock-worms, now as she looked up at the morning sky she was happy to be ride of her tormentors.

  She was about to take a quick look around when she heard the sound of large feet approaching so she ran as fast as she could up a tall mound of some forgotten war-machine and crouched down behind a thick metal plate. No sooner had she done this then Metal-face and his ravenous minions rounded a corner and moved towards her fast.

  They lumbered along and headed straight for the remains of the fallen Komodo beast and although there was very little of the huge beast left they fell about what remains and began to devour it, this was something that KT-7 had not seen for she knew that carcasses drew the sub-humans to it like Bark-bees to sweet cakes so she always put distance between her and fresh meat. But the young warrior couldn’t expose herself to the Scavengers by running so she had to sit and wait until they finished their feast.

  But when they had eaten all the reptile flesh they turned their attention to the small mound of rock near it, a few sniffs with their malformed nostrils and they began to rip at the tiny monument, it only took them a few seconds to uncover the small dead creature that once had fought so bravely and begin eating it.

  “may you all rot in pain” KT said under her breath, it was hard for her to watch as the consumed her companion and at one point she almost decided to jumped up from her hiding place and kill as many of the Scavengers as she could before they ended her life, then she remembered the words of her Mother.

  “Live and fight, die and end” those were indeed wise words so the girl keep her vengeance in check.

  Then after a short time the scroungers had no more to consume and returned to their hunting, KT-7 waited for a time then moved down to the street and checking her directional calculator she began the long trek back home.

  Jon-29 suddenly opened his eyes.

  The control room was dark and only the light from the hole in his tank allowed him to see.

  “Mother?” he asked.

  But his Mother didn’t reply, he quickly looked at his info-screens but they were all dark, he tried recalculations on the different systems but they did not respond, at last he sat back in his chair.

  “Mother?” he asked again.

  This time there was a slight humming sound and one overhead light began to glow.

  “Yes Jon twenty nine?” it said.

  “Information” Jon said.

  “Available” Mother responded.

  “H2O?”

  “Hydration systems damaged, water is unavailable”.

  “Alternatives?” the young man asked.

  “Core damage, data unavailable” was the answer.

  “If H2O remains unavailable will I terminate?”

  “Affirm” Mother said.

  Jon had never been in this kind of situation, only once before had his Mini-tank been damaged and without power, it had taken seven whole days and nights to be rescued but that time he had nutrients and sufficient H20 but now he was without both and his body was beginning to betray him.

  “If I terminate what will happen to Power, Weapons and you?”

  Mother to a long time to answer, “Systems will default to stasis loop for maximum power conservation, when power level is at zero we will lose cohesion and be dispersed, termination beyond recall”.

  And in return Jon took a long time for his next question.

  “What occurs following?”

  “Core damage, information unavailable”.

  “What occurs after final termination?”

  “Unknown”.

  Again there was a long pause, then Jon voice was low, “will we be together?”

  “Unknown”.

  Jon had never really thought about death before, he had brought it to many enemies and had been killed many times but he always knew that he would be reanimated so the fear of death held very little meaning for him, but now it filled his mind so he tried to drive it away.

  “Did we win?” he asked.

  “Affirm” Mother said her voice beaming with pride, “you have done well Jon twenty nine, your name will be placed in the shrine of records and revenge will be taken in your honor”.

  Hearing this made Jon’s heart beat fast for it was the envy of every trooper that he or she have their names inscribed and be revenged.

  Then Power managed to speak, “power is minimal, fuel cells damaged, levels falling, all power is……is….” His voice trailed off into nothing.

  The small light in the control room began to dim.

  “Mother?” Jon said.

  “Yes Jon twenty nine?”

  “Do not terminate” the young man’s voice was filled with emotion this time.

  “No alternative,” his Mother said, “low power protocols require placement of all critical system in stasis loop”.

  “Understood” Jon replied.

  “From stasis loop I cannot interface with you, you are an excellent driver unit Jon twenty nine, you have made me proud, end of transmission”.

  The overhead light goes out and Jon sits alone in his command chair.

  “Mother?” he asked, “Mother?” but nothing was heard and Jon knew that he was now truly alone.

 

  Chapter 2.

  The Enemy.