Founding of the Federation 3: The First AI War

by Chris Hechtl

  His HUD fuzzed instantly, code jangled around the edges of everything in his vision. It looked like snow, the clarity his enhanced senses had once had was gone. He started to get a throbbing headache to go with the terror of the situation.

  He felt the loss of control of his left arm immediately as the virus got into the sub processors there and took them over. He instantly brought his right arm around to fire into the robot's neck at the collar bone and then under the chin, then turned his own weapon on his arm as the arm fired a plasma bolt in the direction of the mess hall.

  He swore again as his left hand fired into his bicep, tearing at his plastic flesh as he tried to use his right forearm to also shove the dead weight of the sparking and twitching robot off of him.

  It took the remainder of his clip to breach his left arm and cut something vital to get the plasma weapon to stop. Tendrils of virus tried to make their way through him. “Athena!” he screamed, back arching as he fought the thing off.

  “I'm here,” Athena said in his mind, fighting the thing off. “It's a spider not the real virus so count your blessings,” she said as his good hand tore into his prosthetic bicep to disable its power. Something broke and he felt a tingle and pain before the arm fell like so much dead weight.

  “I inoculated you before you landed but this thing is persistent,” Athena observed.

  He had to fend off his own cybernetics as his body tried to writhe and tear himself apart. “Hang on, almost there. I've cut power … got it,” Athena said. He felt a spasm of relief as his body relaxed almost explosively.

  That lead to some fear when his chest didn't rise and fall easily, nor did he have the usual icons on his HUD. He could feel pain in his chest.

  “Medics have been summoned, but they are busy,” Athena stated. “I am cleaning out your cerebral implants. You are lucky we're testing this new Wi-Fi setup,” she said.

  “Yes,” he rasped as someone came over him. They looked down, saw the bodies and most likely assumed he was dead. The private took off elsewhere.

  “Hey,” he said weakly. “Damn.”

  “Hang in there, Tyron, you've been through one hell of a beating inside and out,” Athena told him.

  “Feels that way,” Roman replied, licking salt from his lips. His left arm was too weak to reach his mouth he realized. He laid there, trying to relax.

  He realized anyone else who came down definitely had to have a closed system. The burst transmissions of his Wi-Fi link … he felt fear as Athena grew quiet. Too quiet. “Athena?” He coughed. “Hello?!?”

  He could hear distant weapons fire. It sounded like someone was mounting a counterattack. He needed to get back into the game.

  “Hang on. I'm resetting the firmware one chip at a time. I just finished with your internal organs,” she said as the icons for his heart, liver, and pancreas appeared on his HUD. “This will take a bit of time to finish,” she said.

  “I'm in no hurry apparently,” he said, letting his head rest back into the mud. He felt something oozing in his ears and winced. “SITREP?”

  “Not good. It was a raid. The craft that dropped them was a stealth number. Most likely a V-222G model. There is no hot wash yet obviously, but I wouldn't be too surprised if they find that the thing flew in low from a direction no one was expecting, possibly even spoofing the IFF of a friendly unit to get in close.”

  “On the ground?” he rasped. He felt something twitch in his left leg, then his right.

  “Losses are mixed. The robots had surprise on their side of course, but that has ended. They only had low numbers and limited ammunition, which was also fortunate. However, they seem to be scavenging for weapons, ammunition, and power quite handily.”

  “Damn,” Roman muttered. “Gotta figure out where they came from and hit back,” he said, closing his eyes. He felt dirt hit him in the face. His eyes opened. He noted the pair of people talking nearby and coughed. When they didn't react, he coughed again, louder, then cleared his throat. That got them to stop and look around.

  “Yo, a little help here?” he called out. That got them moving. He could have sworn he heard Athena chuckle as they jumped into the drainage trench to help him out.

  No, he had to have imagined it.

  <>V<>

  “You certainly had a scare,” Jack said gruffly when Roman was linked to the communications six hours later. He sat up in his hospital bed as a nurse wiped at his face with a towelet. They'd tried to bypass the triage protocols to get him sorted out. He wouldn't have it. He'd insisted he'd been okay, so the surviving medical staff had focused on those who had been more seriously hurt.

  Sometimes he regretted his magmonious off the cuff reaction. That usually ended when he saw the carnage the damn robots had inflicted. They'd definitely given them a lesson on how to run a raid. It had been very effective since the robots hadn't expected to survive the experience.

  “I'm fine. A bit worn, probably screwed up all my factory warranties, but hey, I'm alive.”

  “Funny,” Athena interjected.

  “Well, you are being medivaced with the wounded as soon as possible,” Jack said gruffly.

  “Jack …”

  “I mean it. We need you here damn it. We can't lose you.”

  “Jack, I'm an officer too—a general. We know the risks. I've been in security … Christ,” he leaned back, seeing the nurse purse her lips in annoyance. She ducked her head away. “Sorry,” he muttered. “But it's been a long time,” he said, “over a century.”

  “I know,” Jack replied. “Get your ass back up here when you can. Fighting this hand-to-hand isn't how to win it.”

  “Well, it's not the way I'd prefer at any rate,” Roman replied dryly. “We need to work on the cybernetic problem. Either plug the jacks or disable them somehow. I thought shutting off the Wi-Fi was enough but obviously not.”

  “Right,” Jack grunted. “I'll let you think about the ways and means while you rest,” he said.

  “Lucky me,” Roman replied, laying back to relax as the girl finished getting leaves out of his hair. “I need a shower.”

  “You need rest. You've got some broken ribs. Your spine has taken damage as well.”

  “Funny, I didn't feel it,” he said.

  “That's because your cybernetics spasmed and snapped the spine,” Athena told him. “I managed to block your pain receptors.”

  “Oh. So I am fracked up,” he said, looking down at his toes. He wiggled them. “They work though,” he said.

  “Yup. Piggies still there,” Athena quipped. He snorted. “I'll tell Trevor you didn't end up like him after all, but close. You need to relax.”

  “Right. Relax. After that,” he said gruffly.

  “I could ask the doctor for a sedative,” the nurse offered helpfully.

  “Pass. I'll … do paperwork or something to pass the time until they fix what's broken.”

  “You are being evaced to orbit. Spinal damage is beyond a field hospital, General,” the nurse stated.

  “Oh. Shit,” Roman sighed.

  “The good news is, you survived. Now use what you've learned,” Athena stated.

  “Athena?”

  “Yes?”

  “Not helping. Much. Thanks though for saving my ass though,” Roman said softly as the nurse went to the next patient. He looked over to see a chimp moaning softly as he cradled the stump of his arm. He closed his eyes to block out the pain, wishing he could do the same with his ears.

  “You're welcome,” Athena said softly as his respiration slowed.

  <>V<>

  “Roman is okay?” Jack asked Athena. “He's not sparing me details?” he asked as he watched the lights below. They had pinpointed where the attack had originated. Tumagar's intel had been accurate, just not acted on in a timely manner. That was now changing as orbital weapon platforms fired KEW strikes onto the Yucatan peninsula. They were certainly adding plenty more craters to go with the remnants of the one that had killed the dinosaurs sixty-five million years ago.
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  He turned away from the flashes to look at Athena's holographic head.

  Athena seemed to shrug. “As okay as he can be in a MASH unit. His spine is broken, two broken ribs, the arm, cybernetic damage …”

  “So much for the inoculation,” Jack muttered darkly.

  Athena let out a raspberry sound over the speaker, startling him. He looked up. “You of all people should know no system is perfect Jack. And a vaccine is one of those things. The virus adapted. It was also different than the previous versions.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. It didn't go and try to hack him with the usual port opening tools it has in its inventory. Of course, it was already inside his defenses by accessing him directly. I believe Skynet is evolving. It is learning just as we are. It has most likely learned that its previous toolbox of tricks have been found out and we've taken steps to block them, so it created new ones.”

  “Yeah. I feel for anyone who had to go through that. And the zombies we heard about …,” Jack shuddered.

  “I know. Fortunately for Roman the antivirus protocols and software suite I created for him slowed the virus down. That is why he wasn't instantly killed.”

  “No, just a lingering death if you hadn't interjected yourself. Thanks for that, in case he forgot and double from me.”

  “You're welcome. He's welcome, and yes, he thanked me. It was risky. He is lucky I was monitoring the situation from the communications array, and that the robots hadn't taken it out.”

  “And we are all lucky they didn't set off a backpack nuke or something. I'm wondering if they are out or something.” He scowled blackly. Caesar's forces had outrun their anti-air units again, which was why the damn stealth jobs had gotten in so easily. They'd only had a couple backpack laser defense systems set up along the perimeter and some shoulder-fired SAMS. Hopefully they learned from the damn experience and kept it from happening again.

  “Doubtful. They can make dirty bombs just from the remnants of the nuclear facilities on the ground. And the waste storage centers are still there,” Athena stated. “They've already done so to contaminate certain areas and to strike at the troops in Russia, China, and in the U.S., Jack.”

  Jack winced. The Thundercats had been exposed to a dirty bomb; that had made the news due to their high popularity. He'd considered having Doctor Glass make clones of them just to slot them into place to keep morale up. It wouldn't work though, and the idea of clones being used as disposable troops would backfire badly, which was why he'd refrained. “You would remind me of that.” There was a long silence. He finally heaved a sigh. “So...”

  “So, projecting your next question, I believe you will ask how this attack effects the war effort. In this case it is in a negative. It was also one attack among many.” She projected a map to show the thrust of the attack along that front and then others elsewhere.

  “Shit,” Jack muttered.

  “My sentiments exactly. It has definitely stalled the next attack for a week or more while the Marines regroup and rearm. They'll also have to bring troops forward and get them up to speed, which will slow them even further. They will also be wary of another attack.”

  “While the veterans will be itching to get even,” Jack mused.

  “Exactly. They will definitely be motivated for payback.”

  “Good for them.”

  “Even more so when news of the border gets to them. We haven't suppressed it but we haven't made it public either.”

  “Why the hell would people risk the crossing,” Jack shook his head. “Those that had done so before I can understand. But now?”

  “Six years, Jack. Six long years of being hunted, living hand to mouth,” Athena retorted. He nodded. For an A.I. to have to remind him of that was a bit humbling. He nodded in agreement.

  “You mentioned the nukes a moment ago. I believe they are being held in reserve still,” she said. “I've put a request through to intel and the spec ops teams to find them. We've got satellite coverage; we can find them, even though Ares is now taking pot shots at the satellites.”

  “I didn't know that,” Jack said.

  “It's not like we don't have plenty spares. It is annoying, and it gives him a window of opportunity to move something until we get coverage back. And of course each time he uses a missile or PDC, we pinpoint where it came from.”

  “So you can counter-fire?”

  “Yes. When General Murtough is ready. He's been assembling for a big push to break the deadlock in North America.”

  “And this spoiler raid didn't help that effort.”

  “No.”

  Jack frowned as a thought struck him. “Tell them …,” he frowned as he tried to get the idea his subconsciousness had into full words. “Tell them to watch for nukes near or on top of our supply chain. One nuke in a logistics dump or on a spaceport would ruin our day,” he said darkly.

  “Now there is a scary thought,” Athena said quietly. “I'll let them know. Fortunately a nuclear weapon can be detected in orbit if it isn't properly shielded.”

  “Wanna bet Ares knows that and will take steps?” Jack asked. “What gets me is why he hasn't switched some of the robot army to RWGs. I know they aren't very powerful, but if he threw in better thermal conversion, he might have something viable.”

  “I don't know why either. I can ask our engineers to look into it. Sim something out and see what is viable,” Athena said.

  Jack nodded. “Do that. We need to stay ahead of the game. Simulate what they could do range wise, speed, and how best to knock them out.”

  “Email sent. They'll need a budget though,” she warned.

  He grimaced. “That's a little trickier,” he sighed.

  Chapter 48

  Baloo and Major Khan had been assigned to the India front for their troubles. The long stalemate on the front seemed to wear on the tiger as much as anyone else it seemed. Baloo was in the thick of it, fighting with the men and women, but the tiger held himself aloof, issuing orders and then growing frustrated when the A.I. countered. Twice Baloo had led them on a desperate charge to get out of a trap the tiger had fallen for.

  The orbital bombardments usually got their tail out of a wringer too. If they were forced to retreat, the tiger would call down the rain to cover them. The A.I. in charge of their front had learned not to press its advantage. Unfortunately, such tactics didn't allow them to gain any ground, just breathing space. Many times they'd had to abandon equipment and goods in their haste to evacuate an area.

  They were spread too thin, Khan knew it. He had no reserve to speak of. They were behind in receiving logistics support let alone replacements for losses. A few of the wounded who had been evacuated or pulled back to the MASH units to recover from light wounds would occasionally return to combat. But few, all too few to really make much of a difference. Certainly not enough for a major counterattack like the tiger dreamed of. If he was to get his flag rank, he would need that. Need to break the robots.

  Unfortunately too many of his people were also breaking. The aching days of combat without relief were taking their toll on even the most seasoned of veterans. The constant threat of an ambush, of artillery, it got to everyone.

  Baloo took his helmet off, wiped at his brow, and then huffed as he looked longingly at a folding chair. It was far too small to fit his rump and weight however; he'd found out that the hard way.

  “You stink, Baloo,” the Major said, not looking at him. His fists were clenched behind his back, uniform immaculate.

  “Well, dem's da breaks I'm afraid. Price of doing business, Khanny baby,” Baloo said, waving away some of the pesky bugs. He sniffed the air. “My, something does smell nice,” he said, smacking his jaw and licking his chops.

  “What's left of my dinner I'm afraid,” Khan replied with the British accent he'd cultivated in order to get into General Martell's good graces, not that it had helped him much.

  He was past the point of rolling his eyes or scolding the bear for insubordination. He'd lost
count of the number of times he'd written the bear up for it; it was like water off a duck. He didn't seem to care. Other forms of punishment were unwise; he needed the bear's proven leadership skills.

  He had faced it long ago; he had to put up with the uncouth behemoth. He'd even squashed two of the bear's attempts to get a transfer to flight school. Baloo was needed right where he was for the time being.

  “It's beginning,” Khan said after checking his internal clock.

  “It is?” Baloo said, coming over to the vid screen. They watched as the rolling curtain barrage of orbital strikes began, just ahead of their lines. Unfortunately, it stopped short of where it truly needed to be to be effective. Khan and Baloo watched as the enemy dug themselves out of hiding spots and then move back in to engage as their own troops were on the move to try to secure the territory ahead of them. Snipers and heavy weapon teams lashed out to cut the robots off, but they didn't do much. Counter units on the other side however proved more effective for their exposed troops. Many of their own people were slaughtered before the tiger ordered them to go to ground or retreat.

  “Damn. I shoulda been out there,” Baloo said in disgust.

  “Indeed,” the tiger drawled, looking over his shoulder briefly.

  He checked the status board once the firing dropped to sporadic fits. Based on the last orbital pass and the comparison with the current one, they had gained a measly four meters of ground for a company's worth of losses. Based on the opinions of the amateur historians who hovered in the mess, it wasn't quite as bad as progress during World War I, but close enough.

  “Well, I've gotten out of worse scrapes by the skin of my teeth and the fur on my rump,” Baloo said. “You wanted to see me?”

  The tiger was momentarily distracted by the incoming data on the injured and killed. It scrolled across the screen like a ticker, updating itself as each unit reported in.

  “Do you have any ideas on how we can move forward?” the tiger asked.