The Seryys Chronicles: Steel Alliance

by Joseph Nicholson

  “Acknowledged,” a tinny voice come over the speaker. “Channel open.”

  Prefect Chuumdar’s aged countenance filled the empty space of the room via the holoprojector.

  “My Prefect,” Braac said, dropping to one knee with a low bow.

  “Prefect Chuumdar,” Puar said with bow of his own. “Thank you for meeting with—”

  “Spare me the pleasantries, Prime Minister, I’ve no patience for it at this point.”

  This is already off to a great start! Puar thought ruefully. “As you wish. I’m assuming at this point you’ve been apprised of the situation.”

  “Indeed I am,” Chuumdar growled. “I will not waste your time, Prime Minister, so I will be as forthcoming as possible. I’ve seen the destructive power of this fleet of F’Rosians. It would seem the bulk of their might lies with this weapon that destroys stars. As I am sure you are aware,” Chuumdar stabbed, “the Vyysarri have no suns to destroy. That, in conjunction with the fact that you kept vital information hidden from me, we have chosen to secede from our alliance.”

  “But Prefect—”

  “I am not finished,” the imposing Vyysarri cut him off. “Though we are pulling out of this alliance, we, as an act of good faith, will adhere to the treaty that Commander Sibrex and General Khail have bled for. Also, Ambassador Braac has apprised me of your current lack of defenses, so we will not attack. Believe it or not, we still do desire peace between us, but perhaps, for now, isolation will be the best way to maintain that peace until you have proven that we can trust you again.”

  “So you condemn us to death by doing nothing! How honorable. Our defense grid will be up in three days, we may only have one day, or a week, there’s no telling when they will get here. So far, they’ve been tracking our spysats’ transmissions to the next, despite our best encryption. I have recalled every single ship back to Seryys to defend us, but it won’t be enough.”

  “Perhaps General Khail will be successful and bring your ships home. It is possible that had we known about this weapons cache, we could have worked together to procure it for the betterment of both our peoples.”

  “As I told my babysitter here,” Puar countered angrily, “I couldn’t risk telling you and having any leaks in your administration tip off the resistance! Then there would’ve been all-out war between two very resourceful, very violent factions and countless innocents would’ve been killed. I was doing this to save lives!”

  “You were doing it to protect yourselves from us!” Chuumdar boomed. “You didn’t trust us!”

  “It had nothing to do with trust! You want to hear about my trust in you? Try this on for size! I’m sure you’re aware that a Vyysarri was responsible for letting loose the Reapers that are now deconstructing my city! Did I immediately accuse you of it? No! Why, do you ask? Because I couldn’t fathom why you would want to do something so heinous and destroy something that we were working to create: peace between our people. I immediately blamed Stiprox because I knew you weren’t capable of—or at the very least, not willing to commit—such an act!”

  Chuumdar was silent for long time. Obviously, that struck a nerve. But it made no difference.

  “My Decision remains firm. I will be withdrawing all Vyysarri ships to the capital including all emissaries and ambassadors.”

  “You must do what you feel is right for your people. I will do everything in my power to make sure that the F’Rosians don’t get any information regarding your location in Vyysarri Space, you have my word. Puar, out.”

  With that, the channel was cut. “I will have security escort you to your ship,” he said, turning to Braac.

  “I do not believe that will be necessary, Prime Minister.”

  “I’m afraid I must insist,” Puar said, tapping a button on his desk. Immediately, four security officers entered the office. “Please escort Ambassador Braac to his ship. Do not lay a finger on him unless he makes a move. Is that clear?”

  “Crystal, sir.”

  “Good,” he extended a hand to Braac. “Safe travels home.”

  Braac didn’t reciprocate, simply turned his back and followed the security detail out.

  Shit.

  He came to roughly an hour later. The ship was dark; the acrid smell of singed wires filled his nostrils. The occasional spark arced across the cockpit causing him to flinch. The ship was pitched at a sixty degree angle, leaning down to the port side. He released his crash restraints, slid out of his seat and clamored to the rear of the ship where he gear was stowed. He donned the Mark IV Invisi-suit, his sidearm, his assault rifle, and whatever provisions he could carry.

  He flipped the lever on the emergency hatch and crawled out into the broken bowels of the building into which he had crashed. Once he got to a level floor, he surveyed his surroundings. The ship had crashed diagonally through the side of the building and down six or seven floors before it finally came to a rest on the eleventh floor. He was currently surrounded by partially scorched papers flitting about, office chairs and desks.

  He needed to find a way to higher ground. From there, he’d be able to get his bearings, he reckoned. He made his way through the maze of cubicles until he found the access point to a stairwell. Cautiously, he pushed the door open, his sidearm, a Seryys Combat 23-90, 11-1 Assault Pistol—a newer model of Khai’s favored gun—at the ready. This section of the stairwell was clear so he cautiously moved in, the Invisi-suit was doing its job; not a single footfall echoed in the all-crete stairwell.

  Quickly moving up, he reached the twentieth floor and access to the roof. He used his prosthetic arm to bust the door open and made it out to the roof. From there, he could see his immediate surroundings. Mostly high-rises of the Residential Sector closer to Upper Seryys, though four blocks to his east was Cascade Park, ten thousand acres of grass and trees. At its center was a reservoir with a gigantic fountain that cascaded down several tiers to the lake.

  Beyond that was a high-rise with wording painted in red on the side of the building. It read, “Survivors inside. Please help!” That was his best bet to get out of there and regroup. Looking down, there were hundreds of Reapers wandering about; eating anything they found living, including each other.

  That was going to be quite a stretch. Running through the park with the Reapers romping about, and those grotesque people could be hiding in the bushes or just roaming about. These Roamers were a mystery to him. Why didn’t the Reapers eat them? How, in their current state of decay, were they still walking about? Where did they come from? How did they get that way? All these questions ran through his head, but in the end, it didn’t matter. He had a mission to complete and a great escape to perform. He’d make it, he always did. Plus, he already had a new a plan on how to catch his prize.

  He considered his options for getting down—he could repel down the side of the building, he could just take the stairwell down, too. There was always the possibility of a stray Reaper in the stairwell, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to go toe-to-toe with one just yet. That being said, he set up his repelling rigging and started working his way down. About half way down, he paused to scan his landing zone. There were some Roamers limping about, blank expressions on their faces, and there were no Reapers in the immediate area.

  The Roamers were slow and clumsy; he wasn’t worried about them. But those giant Reapers truly scared him. He had no misgivings about his chances of survival, but he knew that he had his work cut out for him, especially if he was going to complete his mission. His feet hit the ground and a slow, mostly-decomposed Roamer meandered by. His heart pounded in his chest but the Roamer just walked on by. The Invisi-suit! He had forgotten he was wearing it. These things can’t even see me. This is going to be easy! He leisurely strolled for Cascade Park. So long as he avoided water, he should be fine. He had no intensions of going for a swim while he was there, though he had enjoyed the cool waters before, during the hot summers.

  Before going for his evac, he needed to catch a Reaper and a Roamer. A Roamer would fetc
h him a hefty price, he reckoned. Once he found a Spec Ops team, he would have them contact the good Prime Minister and raise his fee, oh, and let him know that the dead walked the streets of Seryys City. Taking advantage of the safety of his stealthy suit, he set to work preparing a trap to ensnare one of those mutated beasts and one of those Roamer fellas.

  It was time to implement his new plan. He started weaving an intricate web of trip wires from tree to tree over an area of roughly a hundred square yards. Any Reaper or Roamer would drag its foot across it and spring traps laid equally spaced for maximum coverage. The whole process took the better half of a day, but when it was done, it would be worth five hundred grand, he reckoned. Now he just needed some bait. He got a tiny grin on his face and he worked his way to the center.

  If you want something done right, do it yourself, I reckon.

  Once at the center, he deactivated the suit. Suddenly, he could hear his own breathing and the grass crumpling beneath his feet. He drew in a deep breath.

  “Come and get your lunch, you uglies!” he shouted, his voiced echoing off the trees.

  It wasn’t long at all before he heard rustling of leaves up in the trees. Suddenly, he realized that he’d made a grave mistake, one that might cost him his life. There was no telling what type of Reaper he would attract. The Reaper that he attracted was enormous! It stood just below the tree line. Wide-eyed, he subtly reached for the wristband that controlled the suit. He taped a couple of buttons on the touch screen and he vanished. The Reaper roared and thundered forward kicking through the tripwires. Huge logs swung down battering the thing as it lumbered for the center where Brawl was sitting.

  Nets and spikes dropped down on it trying to the stop the large monster. Eventually, a spiked log swung down low from a tree and caught the creature square in the shins. The monster’s legs buckled and it crashed to the ground sliding several feet before coming to a halt ten feet from Brawl. His heart pounded with adrenaline.

  Well, he had just bagged himself a twenty-foot-tall Reaper. Flipping the switch on his assault rifle, he pointed it at the ground and fired. A spike drove deep into the ground. Then he aimed up and shot another spike over the monster. The spike hit the ground and deployed small arms that kept if from coming out of the ground. A thin, ultra-strong, fiber weave string ran between the two. On his side, the cap of the spike spun clockwise and wound the string until it was tight. He repeated this process four times to make sure the Reaper would stay put.

  All the commotion began to draw the attention of other Reapers and a couple Roamers. As they entered the area, they spotted the downed Reaper. Oh shit! Brawl seethed. All his work was about to go down the drain and there was nothing, nothing he could do about it. By twos and threes and fours, the Reapers come in to feast. They tore into the huge Reaper. They tore into it with claws and teeth, rending the meat in giant cleaves or mouthfuls. The Roamers got in on the action, crawling on their hands and knees and sinking their teeth into the monster. Within minutes, the giant monster was dead and there were hundreds of hostiles in his immediate area. He remained still as a statue.

  So far the suit had rendered him invisible to them. He started slowly walking backwards in an attempt to make a discrete exit. He had taken nearly ten steps when he spotted a small Reaper stop and angle its nostrils in the air as if sniffing something on the wind. It nostrils flared with each sniff. Brawl froze. He knew the things couldn’t smell him with the suit on, but even irrational fears could get the best of people. The monster dipped its head back down into the hole it was eating into the side of the giant Reaper’s chest. He started backing up again. This time, much quicker than before, the monster stopped eating again and turned its head in his direction. Nostril flaps flaring again. It cocked it head to the left as if intrigued by something. It took a step closer toward Brawl as he backed up a little faster.

  The faster he backed up, the more Reapers seemed to notice him. Shit-shit-shit-shit! They made him, somehow, they made him. He wasn’t sure how they were able to see him, and frankly, didn’t care. He drew his assault rifle and opened fire. Remembering from the video footage, he aimed for the head. Three well-placed shots dropped the first one that took notice of him. The other Reapers pounced on it, ripping it limb from limb. Brawl thought quickly and dropped to his belly and remained still. Three Reapers who were breaking off from the pack, walked right by him without taking notice.

  Interesting, he thought.

  He lay still, waiting until the Reapers and Roamers finished their meal. Full and lethargic, they staggered off into the forested area of Cascade Park. Once he was convinced that the Reapers were gone, he got up and started moving to the edge of the park. As he emerged from the park, he was staring up at the red help sign. He wondered if there would be a Spec Ops team in there, holed up, waiting for evac. He wondered about how many civilians were in there, too. If they were in there, then HQ had to know about how bad the situation was down there.

  Stepping out of the park into the street, he was met with a scene of complete madness. Cars were overturned, lampposts were torn down, and windows of shop fronts were broken in, their contents stolen or destroyed. Dead bodies lay about, some horribly mangled or dismembered. He hadn’t seen something so horrible in a long time, and despite his war-hardened psyche, he was forced to look away… just in time to see a Reaper sneaking up on him. Just as he caught a glimpse of the monster, it leapt at him, snarling and drooling. He fell to his back as the beast sailed over.

  He continued to roll backward to his feet and spun to the face the Reaper. For a moment the beast hesitated, as if tracking him, its head bobbing up and down like a bird of prey. That’s when he realized that he was standing still and the thing couldn’t see him. He slowly brought up his gun and lined up the shot. He squeezed off three rounds that passed through the Reaper’s head, killing it instantly. The echo of gunshots drew more Reapers and Roamers in. Damn it, he thought ruefully.

  He was stuck with nowhere to go. The Reapers were closing in. The dead Reaper was drawing them in even closer. Two Reapers nearly grazed him as they came in with the promise of fresh meat. It wasn’t long before the Roamers shuffled in, too. Suddenly, they came out of the woodwork. Hundreds of Roamers shambled out of nearby buildings and the park, like a school of sharks emerging from a reef. They were heading straight for him, or perhaps, past him to the dead Reaper. Food was obviously a rare commodity in the big city if every creature in the city was coming for a little chow, he reckoned. He tried slowly shuffling out of the way of the Roamers, the instant he moved, several Reapers took notice, again.

  This time, they came running for him. He growled in frustration and started running for the crowd of Roamers. He was hoping that maybe that many bodies would slow the Reapers down enough for him to take down as many as he could before retreating back into the park and possibly up a tree or into a storm drain. One of the Reapers, a bigger one with slightly-redder-than-pink skin, lunged the distance and crashed down on several Roamers. It clamored over the Roamers for Brawl, who was drawing up his rifle to put several bullets in it.

  The Reaper cleaved one of the Roamers in half with its oversized claws. It stopped for an instant to smell the Roamer, after several sniffs, it made what Brawl thought was a disgusted huffing snort with its nose and continued after Brawl. The Reaper used one of the Roamers as a platform and leapt off of it, landing hard on top of Brawl. Using his prosthetic arm, he reached out and grabbed the Reaper by the throat. Drool-covered, needle-like fangs snapped at his face. With his other hand, he reached for his sidearm and worked it up to the side of the Reaper’s head. He pulled the trigger several times putting several bullets in the thing’s brain. After a short struggle, it went limp and fell dead. Instantly, several Roamers fell on it, biting and clawing at it.

  Brawl backpedaled to his feet. He couldn’t help but notice that he could see his feet. He took a quick inventory of himself and found that the Invisi-suit was damaged by the Reaper that had just attacked him. Great, he scoff
ed. Dozens of Roamers’ eyes met his. Only hunger existed behind them. Several of them lunged for him, falling on their faces as others simply crawled over them. One got a hold of his vest and pulled itself in for a bite. It chomped down on Brawl’s arm, and broke its teeth on the metal surface. Brawl quickly backhanded the Roamer, snapping its head back and breaking its neck. It fell to the ground motionless.

  He scrambled to his feet, firing wildly behind him. A Reaper jumped in front of him and backhanded him into the air. He landed in a heap several yards away, his head spinning. The Reaper was on him in an instant, and more were coming from every side. With the Reaper over him, he wound up with his strong arm and rammed his fist straight through the monster’s body. Thick purple fluid ran down his arm and gathered on the sleeve of the shirt. The monster writhed and shrieked in pain.

  As the monster flopped about, others jumped on it and started tearing it apart. Brawl worked his way back to his gun but before he could pick it up, another Reaper tackled him and dragged him to the ground. He was inches from his gun but it was still well out of reach. He pulled a grenade from his vest and punched it into the monster’s abdomen. Once it was in there, he pulled the pin and kicked the monster off.

  As it shrieked and howled, the others pounced and started digging in with teeth and talons. Brawl scrambled to his feet, grabbed his dropped gun and started sprinting. That grenade was no ordinary frag grenade; it was a fusion grenade that could flash-boil one thousand gallons of water in under a second with a blast radius of fifty yards. Just as he found a boulder to hide behind, the grenade went off. He crouched down, but could still feel heat from the blast. Once the fire was gone, he risked a look over the boulder. Part of the boulder had melted from the heat and there was a crater where the grenade went off.

  The street was quiet. He breathed a sigh of relief and walked out into the street, a victorious grin on his face. No wild beast was going to get the best of him! He shouldered his assault rifle and ventured into the building. The first floor was vacant. It used to be a restaurant, but had been long stripped of anything food related. The Reapers and Roamers had made a mess of things in there.