Once the cloud of dust blew away, the monitors displayed the airship sitting precariously at the far end of the plateau, the landing having nearly failed. An errant gust of wind valiantly tried one last time to tip the airship over the edge before it could escape its grasp, but evidently the airship was heavily laden and just barely managed to shrug off the cloying grasp. The plateau serving as the emergency runway was regularly swept clean of rocks and debris, but it had until now never been needed.
Slowly, under the full power of its engines struggling to push it along, the airship approached the outer airlock door. A tunnel several miles long bored through the outermost rock layer of Mt Olympus separated the pair of airlock doors. At one point, the StormCrows intended for the tunnel to house anti-grav supply trains in the mountain itself, hidden from prying government eyes as they waited to be unloaded in the auxiliary hangar, but the plateau had been too high for that idea to be feasible and other solutions were found. At the time, the size of the tunnel had been built to accommodate the double decker trains and the automated unloading equipment that serviced them. The dimensions of the equipment and trains required the construction of an enormous structure, one just large enough to allow the airship entry in the mountain.
As the outer airlock prepared to open, an alarm in the hangar sounded, announcing the possible loss of air pressure. Once the airship passed through and became engulfed by the mountain, the engines cut out to avoid a cave in. The exterior lock closed while several tugs attached themselves and pulled the airship at an agonizingly slow pace towards the interior gate, triggering another alarm until the pressure inside the airlock equalized with that inside the hangar, allowing the inside door to slide open.
With their first view of the airship dominating the liberal amount of space for a tunnel, the assembled crowd nervously began displaying their excitement, the ricocheting echoes of their fervor drowning out all ambient noise in the hangar as the tugs pulled the airship to a stop. Having exclusive access to one of the largest geological features in the solar system, the StormCrows carved out the auxiliary hangar with a bright future in mind, creating a cavernous space that could house thousands if so desired. By comparison, the interplanetary airship occupied over half of the space, the bays occupied by Mech armor seeming to be mere toys by contrast of size. Logistics personnel worked booms and cranes along with the tugs, turning the airship so that its cargo bay opened deep into the mountain while its nose faced outward towards the airlock.
Through everything, Commander Ultor stood silently on top of the unloaders platform, taking everything in, not missing a single detail, all while allowing his competent staff to run things, standing by just in case they missed anything and serving as a figurehead for everyone to look to. Once the airship completed its turn, the human sized door just behind the cockpit section was level with the unloaders control platform as if the Commander knew all along that it would be. Drogdyn remotely worked his wizardry and the unloader platform rumbled into position, aligning itself with the door, serving as a gangplank for the crew to exit from and come face-to-face with the rebel decision makers. Additional teams of security personnel set up around the unloader, weapons trained on the doorway while others took defensive positions, all with vantage points where they could protect their commander.
The crowd shifted and morphed, constantly growing in size as it moved to surround the unloader. Commander Ultor pressed his hand over his ear, for which Mikkhael could only guess either Drogdyn or the head of internal security was giving him information about the personnel on the airship, his reply was drowned out by the crowd, but the door behind the cockpit broke its seal with the hiss of hydraulics. Mikkhael’s face went white and he felt himself go deathly cold as a silhouette appeared in the doorway, pausing briefly before forming into a white pilot suit with the helmet still attached, unable to hide the curves that defined her sex. The figure remained in the doorway, quickly scanning its surroundings, taking everything in, especially the platform where she would step out onto, and then the visor of the helmet looked up at Commander Ultor and stopped, locking its gaze on Mikkhael.
Mikkhael did not need the woman to remove her helmet to know who she was; or the other three figures that exited the airship behind her. Time slowed to a crawl for him as he felt himself sink into a waking nightmare that he had no way of waking up from and finding out that it never happened. His stomach churned wildly, the turmoil leaving a bitter taste in his mouth as he looked from one visor to the next in fearful panic.
He felt the reality he grounded himself into shift and sway under him as somehow all the faces in the hanger recognized that the visitors had something to do with him, turning his way with eager anticipation that quickly turned into confusion. The taller of the two female figures that exited the airship moved her hands slowly to remove her helmet, the rest of her team keeping their hands in plain view away from their bodies for the anxious security personnel to see they were not armed or a threat. The shock of seeing her face as her helmet was unbuckled caused his knees to buckle. He would have collapsed against the railing when a hand steadied him. Eve was there, holding him up, looking up at him askingly; the expression of concern on her face almost seemed comical in the light of the moment. He wished for her sake that he could spare her the pain of her innocence remaining un-shattered, but knew it was not to be so. Deep in him, he cursed the fate that drew all of this pain to him, unable to comprehend how everything could go so wrong so quickly.
He knew the woman said something to him based on the reactions of those around him, but he could not bring himself to focus on her words. She tried again, but her words were unable to reach him as the world continued to shift and spin. He badly wanted to throw up, his stomach dry-heaving in protest. He fought the urge, but the acid was winning. Unable to cope, he closed his eyes, breathing rapidly, gripping the rails of the unloaders platform tightly in denial of what was happening.
He was muttering incoherently, about to lose control of his stomach, when a hand gently touched his shoulder, warmth radiating through the touch. The accompanying voice made the pain vanish as if it had never appeared. “Dream any dream but that one. Everything is going to be ok now,” the voice whispered softly, intimately, into his ear so that only he could hear.
Mikkhael turned to face her, opening his eyes, tears falling unchecked and unnoticed down his cheeks. The white suited female stood directly in front of him, concern for him clearly evident in her expression, flanked by the other three members of her crew, each wearing different colored pilot suits. As everyone in the hangar watched raptly, the other three slowly removed their helmets. Even though he already knew who was inside each of the suits and exactly what to expect, the shock of seeing each new face elicited a physical reaction with him.
Everyone in the hanger was staring at him with absolutely no idea what was happening, waiting for an explanation, but his world narrowed to the point where he could only see the four faces directly in front of him. “Alyona, all of you, how … why?” Inspiration struck as he stuttered, turning to the airship, searching it with his eyes as if he could see the contents inside, realizing what their cargo was all the same. “No. No! No! You can’t! This is all wrong!” He screamed, panic overtaking him.
The rest of the room flinched back, unprepared for the depths of rage and fear in his voice. As one, the collective prepared for a fight, taking Mikkhael’s side without hesitation and willing to do whatever was needed to help their hero, entirely unaware of what was happening. For their part, Alyona and the others resolutely stood their ground, knowing beforehand that he would resist their appearance on Mars.
Eve looked from him, to the airship, the strange new pilots, and then back to him, giving voice to the question on everyone’s mind. “Mikkhael, who are these people and what’s happening?”
The largest of the pilots, a bear of a man bedecked in a muted dark green pilot’s suit stepped forward; he stood a head taller than even the Martians who were taller than their
brethren back on Earth due to living so long in low gravity. He flashed a bright, disarming smile, completely unconcerned by the number of weapon and guidance lasers pointed straight at him. He pointed to each person as he spoke, addressing the crowd, Commander Ultor, and Mikkhael all at the same time. “We are his family, and we have just traveled from Earth in order to join your fight in the same way that Mikkhael did not so long ago. My name is Kiryl, I am an engineer, and a pilot. The small one next to me is Kurtis; a talented information technician and also a pilot. Vera is our medical officer, and a pilot. Alyona is our lead pilot, serving as our leader when Mikkhael left us, and we are all at your service.” The huge man bowed low at the waist, the tiny helmet lost in the bulk of the massive arm that cradled it against his chest. The moment was nearly comic, except that no one laughed. They were petrified in fear by the size of the man who so easily claimed to be their savior.
A trigger switched in Mikkhael’s head. His anger took control, racing through the veins of his body with a surge of power that had been absent for the last two months. His back straightened as his shoulders and neck squared into place, no longer slouching in bitter dejection and defeat; the rest of his body loosened, instantly preparing for a fight as adrenaline flooded his system. The pupils of his eyes narrowed to tiny pin-pricks as his heart rate climbed furiously, fists clenching and unclenching absently at his side.
Sensing the change, Eve stepped backwards, unsure what his next move would be.
Mikkhael was about to make a move, his jaw set in a manner that forewarned violence, when Kiryl acted first. The big man was astonishingly fast for his size, a green blur of motion, ending the fight as quickly as it began. Shifting effortlessly from the bow into hand-to-hand combat as if he had spent his entire lifetime in reduced gravity, he stepped in front of Alyona; easily pushing her to the side as he effortlessly glided past her, dropping his helmet as he did so. He firmly planted his right foot directly in between him and Mikkhael, bringing his left forward, snaking it inside of and then behind Mikkhael’s right before pulling it back to himself, knocking Mikkhael off balance. Simultaneously, his arms were a blur of green; the left casually knocking aside Mikkhael’s punch, his right grabbing Mikkhael at the collar, bodily lifting him up, bringing them face-to-face with barely an inch in between them.
With pity in his expression and tone, the bear of a man spoke quietly so that only Commander Ultor, Eve, and the other new arrivals could overhear. “You have gotten weak brother. You said it yourself before you left, who has more right to fight than those you see before you? You are not going to lecture us about why we shouldn’t have come, or how we’re not needed; the fact remains that we are here and that is not going to change no matter how much you wish it otherwise. You called for us, and we came. We will share your burdens, your pain, and in the end your victory the same way we always have, and the way we should have planned too from the start. Our mistake was in letting you come alone and for that we are sorry, it is a mistake we have come to fix.”
Defeated and broken, Mikkhael hung limply in the air, proving just how truly lost he’d become, unable to put up any kind of meaningful fight. He knew from experience of growing up with Kiryl that even when he was in absolutely peak physical condition he could almost never win a physical sparring match against his friend and that once the big man set his stance, he was immovable. What hurt more than anything though, was that he recognized the truth in his friend’s words. Anger laced his voice, anger at his own failings, forcing him to lash out any way he could. “You said I called for you. That’s not true.”
Vera placed a hand on Kiryl’s shoulder, ever the diplomatic peacemaker. Kiryl set Mikkhael down gently, waiting the extra second for him to gain his balance before releasing his grip and backing away, allowing Vera to take his place in front of Mikkhael. For his part, Mikkhael would have rather still been in the grip of Kiryl than left feeling helpless from the piercing gaze that Vera leveled at him.
She spoke softly, sorrow and regret lacing her words, effortlessly piercing through his emotional walls deeply enough that he could no longer avoid his own pain. “We all felt the death of Starkindler. The fact that you weren’t another casualty that day was entirely up to fate, an experience wished on no one even once let alone twice. But just because you were yet again spared when you should have died does not change the fact that Lady Fate will soon fix her mistake if we didn’t come to save you. And this,” She sighed in pity as she looked at him, waving her hand in reference to his current physical condition, “This isn’t living Mikkhael. As far as anyone’s concerned, you did die that day if this is the best you can do. I’m sorry for failing you when you needed us the most, all of us are. We knew that coming here would be hard for you, but your soul is fading, and with it your will to fight. You’ve lost your way, and your purpose; it will not be long in this condition that we will lose you entirely.”
Alyona pointed to the airship they arrived in, taking her cue to give him some hope to lean on after Kiryl and Vera tore open his emotional scars. “Inside is a highly customized Mech armor for each of us, built on Starkindler’s platform. We were researching modular layouts to equip Starkindler with when individually we came to the same decision; we belonged here, standing shoulder to shoulder with you. From that moment on we devoted all our efforts to creating our own Mech armor that would complement your combat style and abilities.
She continued, “Each of our unit’s is unique in its abilities and roles, designed to complement our personal style of combat. For quite a while we stuck to the plan we agreed on before you left, intending to bring the resupply and repair materials needed en masse for Starkindler and join you here on Mars as supporting personnel. That was until your last battle when we were forced to watch you fight so desperately from another planet, and there was absolutely no way we could avoid the obvious decision any longer. We are your family Mikkhael, and we have been through things together that no one should ever have to deal with. From now on, we go where you go and we will always stay together.”
Kurtis took his turn to explain, keeping the punches rolling, pointing to the airship as he referenced its contents. “There are enough materials with us to begin building another Starkindler, as well as service and repair the Mech armor we brought with us. Even more materials and equipment will follow in a few days’ time on automated anti-grav trains we rented. The amount of material we have brought with us from Earth proved to be … significant.”
Mikkhael clenched his fists, knuckles turning white from blood loss; fury dancing dangerously behind his eyes. “You were supposed to remain on Earth and support me from there; that was the agreement. With you here, that changes everything. It upsets the balance too much!”
Kurtis shook his head sadly; the look of remorse on his face was genuine. “The balance has already been broken. It wasn’t supposed to have been a surprise that we were heading this way; we notified Aurora’s shell of our plans. It’s obvious that she didn’t inform you, I’ll look into her programming as soon as I can. I fear a great deal of corruption seems to have occurred. As for the PDF, we have proof they are already introducing a broad range of upgraded Mech armor with greatly enhanced combat capabilities. Also; Mars Industries has been hiring professional mercenary companies from Earth, some of which have already arrived; and more are on their way every day. Everything is in motion Mikkhael, and the rate is only accelerating.”
Mikkhael turned away from his friends who left their home and everything they cared about in order to travel to another planet to help him when he needed it most. Shame left him unable to meet their gazes. “Ever since Starkindler was destroyed, I haven’t been able to bring myself to speak with Aurora’s shells.”
He paused, for a moment at a brief loss of what he could say; they gave him the time he needed. The realizations that struck him one after another shocked him. Again, he could not tell how he knew, just that he understood. “You were attacked weren’t you? The base in Alice Springs has been destroyed.
Originally, you were supposed to wait, so you wouldn’t have broken your word and come here if you could have remained on Earth. You built that airship to send me replacement equipment for Starkindler as per the arrangement; that’s why it couldn’t hold the Mech armor you brought as well as the extra resupply equipment.
Their faces reflected the truth of his words, encouraging him to continue. “And it’s true that you each brought your own Mech Armor to pilot, but you wouldn’t have jeopardized this location just to meet up with me. We could do that at any time and place with Auroras help. In fact, it makes more strategic sense that you not operate from the same location as us in order to keep the PDF offbeat. So that means…” His voice trailed off as he looked at the airships cargo bay, his eyes were distant as they seemed to look through its thin walls, scanning its contents.
He shuddered, stepping away from the railing, gasping a bit. “You brought something else with you too. Something that shouldn’t exist and is too dangerous to let fall into anyone else’s hands. I can feel it. That kind of malice can’t be hidden.” He looked at his friends searching their faces for an explanation. It was their turn to have trouble meeting his gaze, not expecting the tables to turn on them so suddenly. His voice was almost a whisper, laced with dread at the obvious answers. “What is the thing that you brought with you? It’s evil.”
Kurtis was the last to speak; responsibility for answering lay with him. Still, he shuffled nervously before replying, his hesitation a testament of regret at bringing whatever it was with them. “We need to speak with you in private.” He muttered quietly.
“No! Whatever you have to say you can say it right here and right now!” Mikkhael shouted, his voice cracking with emotion as he fought himself for control.
Nemesis (The MechaVerse Trilogy Book 2) Page 7
