Voidstalker

THE TRAP

Whoever the observatory’s architects might have been, they had clearly been immune to motion sickness. So was the squad, thanks to their physical enhancements; but even though the gravitic tunnel network shaved an hour off their journey, Gabriel couldn’t help but think that most people would rather walk.

After the insane, high-speed journey through the bowels of the observatory, one by one the squad dropped down through the ceiling into one of the many sub-chambers. Several of the Enthralled saw the squad drop in and were shot dead before they could raise the alarm. Once they had secured the room and made sure there were no enemies hiding there, the squad took stock of their surroundings.

Having abandoned the original facility, the research staff had also abandoned all the labs they had been using before becoming enthralled. But they had taken with them as much equipment as they could move into their temple, and this particular sub-chamber had been converted into a substitute lab. The walls were lined with all sorts of machinery, including surgery tables equipped with robotic medical suites, and fluid-filled growth tanks; some with live subjects and others lying empty.

Upon closer examination, the term ‘live subject’ seemed like a polite exaggeration. The subjects were mutilated and deformed, their skin turned pale by exsanguination or darkened by injuries, the victims of revolting experiments to enhance their bodies and minds. Some had had their chest cavities opened, and half-finished cybernetic components were visible inside them, while others sported cybernetic limbs or other implants.

Life signs were still visible on some of the monitoring screens, but even if the test subjects weren’t dead, they might as well be.

“What were they doing in this place…?” Cato said with disgust, inadvertently talking through his helmet speakers.

“This chamber is one of several which were requisitioned for experimentation by the Enthralled.” the observer explained, having overheard his question, “All surviving test subjects have since been ‘elevated’. The rest were abandoned.”

At the far end of the chamber was another fluid-filled growth tank, much larger than the others; in fact the top reached all the way up to the chamber’s ceiling. It was also the centrepiece of the lab, with a constellation of computers and other equipment connected to it, still churning out the result of constant scanning.

The specimen inside the tank wasn’t Human.

“What about this tank?” Gabriel asked.

“A leftover from the experiments your kind were conducting prior to falling under the influence of the Swarm,” the observer replied, “It appears that they were attempting to create a clone using DNA extracted from fossilised remains discovered within the observatory.”

The squad looked up in a mixture of fascination and disgust at the strange creature housed inside the tank. It had shrunken, stunted-looking limbs and claws like a lizard as well as an elongated tail. Its skin was egg-white pale, and its eyes were glossy black; it looked like an alien embryo grown to adult size.

“This thing looks like a half-grown mutant.” Bale observed with disgust.

“The DNA sample had already degraded to a fraction of the number of original base pairs.” The observer explained, “The experiment ultimately failed.”

“You said the DNA they used was based on fossilised remains,” Cato pointed out, “was this alien part of the original crew?”

“The observatory does not require an organic crew.” The observer replied perfunctorily.

“Well if there was no crew needed, then what was this thing doing onboard?” Viker demanded, “What kind of ‘observatory’ was this place?”

“‘Observatory’ is an imperfect translation.” The observer replied. “The term might be better translated as ‘observational facility’.”

Gabriel activated his gravity belt. Seeing his action, the squad did the same.

“You have activated your…untranslatable…devices,” the observer noted, “Yet the observer does not detect any nearby…untranslatable…threats.”

“We call them ‘gravity belts’,” Gabriel replied, “And before I explain why, how quickly would it take the Swarm to reach the central chamber?”

“From its current location, approximately ten minutes.”

“Viker, get behind me.” Gabriel ordered, turning his back, “I need your help.”

Viker paused for a second, then stowed his weapon and stood behind Gabriel.

“There’s a slot on the underside of the command module,” Gabriel said, “open it.”

Viker did as instructed, and the slot opened, revealing a turnkey with a small keyhole in the middle. The light around the key was glowing a dangerous red.

“Turn the key 180 degrees counter-clockwise,” Gabriel continued, “and be prepared to catch the module when it detaches.”

“I hope you’re not about to blow us all up, colonel.” Viker quipped wryly.

“Do exactly as I say,” Gabriel replied with deadly seriousness, “and we might just survive this suicide mission after all.”

Viker turned the key. The complicated set of mechanical latches holding the device in place unlocked simultaneously, and the ‘command module’ detached cleanly from Gabriel’s armour, dropping into Viker’s hands.

As soon as the bomb detached, a timer appeared in the corner of everyone’s HUDs.

‘30:00:00’, ’29:59:03’, ’29:58:08’.

“Now, attach it to the back of my belt.” Gabriel instructed Viker.

Viker duly pressed the bomb against the back of Gabriel waist, and the magnetic clamps on Gabriel’s belt latched onto the deadly payload, fastening it securely behind him.

“I have a theory.” Gabriel said aloud to the observer. “You were built in order to study how the Swarm influences organics, which is why you don’t need an organic crew.”

The observer was silent.

“The original alien from which this thing was cloned,” Gabriel continued, confident in his conclusions, “and probably hundreds of others, were used as lab rats for you to observe while the Swarm enthralled them one by one. And when you lost control of the experiment, you deliberately crashed into this moon and waited for the test subjects to die.”

“Come to think of it,” Cato added, expanding on Gabriel’s accusation, “you probably weakened the containment shield on purpose in order to let the Swarm corrupt the researchers and watch what happened. Except this time the Swarm was smart enough to figure out how to disable the shield indefinitely, until we restored it for you.”

Another round of silence.

“The observer has greatly underestimated your species’ deductive capabilities.” The observer noted backhandedly, “And it seems you do not trust the observer’s intentions.”

“Of course we don’t trust your intentions.” Gabriel answered, “Aside from the fact that you split us up against our will and hid the true nature of this place, you’re an alien artificial intelligence, and our primary mandate is to protect our species from alien threats.”

“So you wish to guard against any ulterior motive that the observer might possess by triggering the antimatter device’s countdown? That is logical.” The observer responded, “However, the Swarm does not know your current location, and the time estimate is based on the assumption that it heads immediately for the central chamber.”

“Well then I suggest you get its attention, and quickly.” Gabriel replied, “Because one way or another, this bomb will go off. Whether you’re destroyed along with the Swarm depends on getting it into the containment field along with the bomb.”

“If we fail, you will also obliterated.” The observer pointed out, “Does the voidstalker truly possess no sense of self-preservation?”

“I have five…technically six reasons to leave this place alive,” Gabriel answered, “but if I have to die to make sure they can live, so be it.”

* * *

The doorbell sounded and the intercom lit up with a video image of the caller. Roused from her anxiousness and self-pity, Aster walked over to the intercom and saw an Asgard Civil Security officer on the other side, flanked by two support androids. The intercom’s holographic display identified him as Detective Timothy Bell.

“This is Detective Bell from Asgard Civil–” the ACS officer began.

“I can see who you are,” Aster replied impatiently, “what can I do for you?”

“Is Aster Thorn available?” he enquired, ignoring her impertinent tone.

“You’re speaking to her now.”

“Open the door.” The detective ordered, “I need to speak to you, urgently.”

“Why can’t you just talk through the intercom?”

“Refusing to cooperate with the authorities is a criminal offence.” The detective warned her, “Open the door and I’ll tell you exactly why we need to talk.”

The maganiel android was still standing guard in the hallway, and Aster gestured for it to come over. Then, reluctantly, she opened the front door.

The ACS detective was dressed in a regular uniform with light body armour, whereas the two armed support androids accompanying him were equipped with submachine guns; a fact which put the maganiel android on alert.

“Do you know a Dr Felix Kessler?” Detective Bell asked.

“Yes,” Aster replied suspiciously, “I work with him at Jupiter Engineering Co.”

Aster was sick to her back teeth of being interrogated by authority figures, uniformed or not; but she knew better than to be overly rude to him.

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“This morning, at the labs.” Aster replied.

“Yes, you were suspended this morning pending an internal investigation into a security breach there,” Detective Bell noted, consulting his wrist-top computer, “is that correct?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss the details.” Aster said legalistically.

“Neither were your employers,” the detective noted, “After you were suspended, did you come straight home or did you go anywhere first?”

“I came straight home.” Aster responded, “What happened with Felix?”

“You haven’t seen the news?” the detective raised an eyebrow.

“No.” Aster answered, her stomach tightening.

Detective Bell pulled up a set of images on his wrist-top computer’s holographic display and flipped the display around for her to see. Aster looked at the screen, and the colour and feeling drained from her face.

It was a slideshow of a set of crime scene photos, showing Felix lying dead in some kind of private room. He was slumped on his side with a gunshot wound through the side of his head. She could tell it was him from his dyed black and gold hair, and from his steel grey eyes, now blank and lifeless.

“He was found dead about an hour ago.” The detective explained, “Bruising on his arms and legs indicates that he was physically restrained by someone, or something, much stronger than himself. Something like the maganiel android you have there.”

Aster was in complete shock, too much shock to register the veiled accusation.

“Has your maganiel android left the house at all?” the detective asked.

“…No…” Aster replied falteringly, “no it hasn’t.”

“This unit has not departed the house since it was reactivated approximately twelve hours ago.” The maganiel android volunteered helpfully.

“We’ll need to confirm that by accessing your maganiel’s logs.” The detective replied, “And I’ll need you to come in for further questioning as well.”

“You heard what it said,” Aster said defensively, regaining her resolve, “the maganiel hasn’t left the house since I activated it.”

“And how do I know you didn’t tell your maganiel’s to say that after ordering it to kill Felix Kessler?” Detective Bell asked.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Aster demanded angrily, “I’ve known Felix for years, you seriously think that I killed him?”

“Dr Kessler went missing in the wake of a suspicious power failure at your place of work, a power failure that you were suspected of causing.” The detective pointed out, “Then you were suspended from work and claim to have come straight home afterwards. Somewhere in that sequence of events, Dr Kessler was murdered; so if you know what’s good for you, I suggest you come with me immediately.”

“Unless you have an arrest warrant, you can fuck off.” Aster said defiantly.

“Verbal harassment of an ACS officer or obstruction of justice, which would you prefer to be arrested on?” the detective asked.

“Again, if you don’t have a warrant, then have a nice day.” Aster said before attempting to shut the door in the detective’s face.

The detective stuck his foot in the door, preventing it from shutting, then tried to force his way inside the apartment. With reactions faster than any Human could match, the maganiel drew its sidearm and stuck the barrel in the detective’s face, pushing him back with the gun. The officer backpedalled immediately as the two ACS support androids in turn raised their weapons, taking aim at the maganiel.

“This unit has been authorised to employ lethal force in defence of the residents of this home.” The maganiel politely informed the detective.

“Oh, you’re definitely my prime suspect now.” the detective said menacingly, reaching for his comm. device, “this is Detective Bell requesting armed backup at my location. One hostile suspect and one armed android present.”

“Would you like to explain to your backup how you tried to force your way into my home?” Aster said gloweringly, taking cover behind the maganiel.

“If you had nothing do with Dr Kessler’s murder, then why don’t you just come in and explain everything?” the detective challenged her.

“Because I’m sick to death of being interrogated over things that I’m not fucking guilty of!” Aster raged, her composure dissolving, “and after being suspended from my job, you come to my door to tell me one of my friends was murdered and that I’m your suspect!”

“Well, sorry for your loss,” the detective replied without sounding too sorry, “but unless you have any information that can point us in the right direction, at best you’re a person of interest, and at worst you are the prime suspect.”

“You needed backup?” said another voice from the corridor.

Everyone turned to see another uniformed individual approaching, also accompanied by his own team of armed support androids. But the newcomer’s uniform was plain and dark, without any insignias, let alone ACS markings.

“Who the frick are you?” the detective demanded.

“Scan me.” The unidentified person replied.

With a glare of suspicion on his face, the detective approached the newcomer and flash-scanned his eyes. His suspicion evaporated when he saw the ID and organisational affiliation.

“That’s right,” said the newcomer, “The acronym for authority here is ‘DNI’.”

“This woman is a person of interest in a murder investigation.” The detective protested.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here,” the DNI agent replied, “we know for a fact that she’s not your culprit. We have the evidence to prove it and I’ll be accompanying you back to your HQ so we can clear all this up.”

The detective’s suspicious glare returned, but he duly turned away and reached for his comm. device, presumably to contact his superiors.

“Dr Thorn,” said the DNI agent to Aster, “we received your communication.”

“It was Jezebel who killed him,” Aster asserted in a hushed tone, “I know it.”

“That may or may not be the case,” the agent replied, “I couldn’t possibly comment.”

“Who else could it be?” Aster insisted, “She took my children home with her from the medical centre, which has to be a massive security breach, and then she tried to–”

The DNI agent raised a finger to silence her, his expression turning serious.

“Never talk about confidential matters out in the open.” He said sternly.

“Well, you saw what I sent, didn’t you?” Aster demanded.

“That’s not for me to say,” The DNI agent answered, “I came down here because the ACS officer was going to arrest the wrong person.”

“Ok, but…Felix was a close friend of mine,” Aster explained, her voice shaking a little, “can you at least promise me that you’ll get whoever killed him?”

“It’s all being sorted out,” The agent promised.

* * *

From a gentle glow, the containment shield had brightened into a translucent ball of light, bright enough to illuminate the entire cavernous central chamber. Standing on the raised dais at the edge of the scaffolding platform stood the self-styled leader of the Faithful, facing the containment shield with his hands raised as if in prayer.

Some distance behind him, eight figures were crouched down in a semi-circle around the prophet like a gathering of bodyguards or attending priests. They were the same type of surgically mutilated scarecrows that the squad had encountered earlier – the remains of their J.E. Co. security uniforms still visible on their monstrously deformed bodies.

A squad of enthralled foot soldiers stood further back at the edge of the platform, watching the prophet as he presumably listened to the Voice in his head. They were meant to be guarding the entrance to the central chamber, but were standing in visible awe of the spectacle before them.

Derelict in their sentry duty as they were, none of them noticed as the four remaining commandoes appeared from one of the sub-chambers and executed them from behind. Their comparatively weak shielding failed to deflect, or even stop, the commandoes’ bullets, and they crumpled to the floor, their faces blown out by the exit wounds.

The gunfire alerted the honour guard of scarecrows. They turned around and stared at the squad, their cybernetic eyes glowing electric blue, highlighting the congealed blood stains on their cheeks. Without any signal from the prophet, they howled like rabid attack dogs and charged, pouncing forward on limbs enhanced with synthetic muscle tissue.

The squad switched to concussive shots and fired at the charging scarecrows. The creatures’ surgically implanted shield emitters rippled and flashed as most of the pellets were deflected. Some made it through the scarecrows’ shields, punching through their cybernetically enhanced flesh but barely slowing them down.

Bale tossed a frazzler grenade into the path of the charging scarecrows. Detonating in mid-air, the device emitted a powerful repulsive field similar to the shielding of its targets. The resulting interaction of discordant energy fields produced a violent and instantaneous feedback loop. The pack of scarecrows was sent flying like a collection of ragdolls in a windstorm, their shields frazzled out by the explosion.

The squad switched back to automatic fire and executed the scarecrows with precision bursts before they could get up again, aiming for their torsos and heads. The creatures screamed in fury – they probably couldn’t feel pain – as the hail of bullets riddled their bodies, punching through vital organs, or fracturing as they penetrated bionic components.

Coloured liquid leaked from the scarecrows’ wounds – a mixture of red blood and clear mechanical fluid – and their muscles twitched and spasmed as they died. It was a nastier way to go than the other four, but no one doubted that they were better off dead.

“Your blasphemous schemes are transparent to me, even without the Voice’s guidance.” the prophet’s voice boomed through a vocal enhancer.

The prophet turned around to face the squad. He was still dressed in his makeshift priestly robes made out of a hazmat overcoat covered in bloody symbols and glyphs. The micro-emitters in his skin glowed faintly, ready to swat aside any incoming projectiles, but the look of zealous superiority on his face was crinkled with frustration.

“So what do you think our plans are, then?” Gabriel asked, hoping to keep the prophet talking until the Swarm arrived.

“You have successfully reactivated the prison in which the Swarm was held.” The prophet replied, “No doubt with the assistance of the entity which inhabits the Temple, seeking to prevent others from partaking of the knowledge that the Voice of the Swarm imparts.”

“Entity?” Gabriel opted to feign ignorance, “what entity?”

“The lying voice that speaks from within the walls of the Temple, enticing you to reactivate the containment field in order to re-entrap the Swarm and its anointed host!” The prophet bellowed with righteous anger, “The entity which has attempted to thwart the Faithful by erecting barriers and tossing machinery to and fro like toys! You have ignorantly chosen to whore yourselves out to its blasphemous schemes!”

“If we noticed, I guess they would too.” Bale mused.

“It is an evil spirit making craven and desperate attempts to thwart the re-ascendance of a power far greater than itself!” the prophet thundered away, “The Swarm is a power which it can merely observe, but not confine; one which has granted unto me, and unto my Faithful, secrets unfathomable to the narrow minds of the greedy and wretched corporates or the evil, fricking government!”

“You’re out-n-out brain-fricked.” Viker retorted in Undercity dialect.

“Am I?” the prophet asked rhetorically, “or is it really your superiors at the Directorate of Naval Intelligence who have been deluding you all this time, sending you into the carnivore’s den to protect Humanity from the supposed threat of xenotech research whilst secretly pilfering the fruits of that research for themselves?”

The squad collectively blinked.

“Do you believe that to be mere supposition?” the prophet asked.

“No, we think it’s a bollocks conspiracy theory.” Bale retorted.

“Of course you do.” The prophet sneered, “Why would slaves be curious about their masters’ plans? I certainly wasn’t, harvesting all the data that Dani could gather and sending it back to my false masters.”

The squad blinked again.

“Has it dawned on you at all?” the prophet continued, “how could the DNI possibly be so ignorant of the existence of such a vast and illegal research facility a few hours spaceflight journey away from a major hub world for so many years?”

The squad blinked a third time as the pieces of the puzzle assembled in their minds.

“Jupiter Engineering thought they had pulled the wool over the eyes of the DNI.” The prophet continued, “Hah! The DNI sees and hears everything that happens within Human space, and far beyond it too! They let it happen so long as they could steal for themselves whatever discoveries J.E. Co. made. That was my assignment.”

There was a fourth collective blink of disbelief.

“Lawrence Kane?” Gabriel asked incredulously.

“The one and only!” The Prophet Lawrence Kane declared.

“But you’re dead!”

“Do I look dead to you?”

“But we found the body in the medical bay!” Viker exclaimed.

“You found a body,” Kane pointed out, “no doubt with the ID tag still attached to the corpse. If the DNI’s dogs are this easy to throw off the scent, perhaps I needn’t have worried.”

The squad blinked again, but this time at their own sloppiness. It had never occurred to them to scan the corpse’s DNA and make sure it really was Lawrence Kane.

Their motion trackers flashed red.

“I would tell you more,” the prophet said with a grin, “but it seems you are out of time.”

The prophet’s eyes and head rolled back as he entered some kind of trance, and the squad turned their guns around to face the threat.

In fact, the threat was all around; they were pouring in from every entrance, and spreading across the walls of the enormous spherical chamber. Enthralled foot soldiers were joined by jumpers with their jetpacks and shotguns, and scattered amongst them were more black widows in their lithe, black body armour. All of the Faithful’s remaining manpower had converged on the central chamber for the final showdown.

“One way or another,” Gabriel said to everyone, scanning the assembled horde for the Swarm-possessed Ogilvy, “this bomb will go off.”

“Yeah, we don’t need to be Masterminds to remember that, colonel,” Viker replied sarcastically, tracking targets in his HUD, “We can all see the countdown.”

“That's not what I mean,” Gabriel said grimly, “I mean that my death will kill us all.”

* * *

The penthouse never felt as homely as it did when coming back from doing one’s own dirty work. Madam Jezebel entered the palatial living room and settled into a couch, heaving a sigh of partial relief at being home. The two androids who had accompanied her stood to attention, waiting for further instructions.

“Self-destruct.” Madam Jezebel ordered the two androids as she pulled the red chip out of her pocket, “No recovery of data or recycling of components.”

“All logs and information stored on these units will be permanently lost.” The androids informed her in their digitised voices, “are you sure you wish to initiate self-destruct?”

“Yes.” Jezebel replied, “Do it.”

The two androids nodded and departed the room. In a side room of the penthouse, there was a special disposal chute for robotics and electronics leading down to an incineration unit far below. Nothing would be left of them to recover.

Jezebel pulled out a tablet computer, wafer-thin and flexible with intricate nanocircuitry visible through the translucent body. Laying it on the small table in front of her, she made sure to disable the tablet’s wireless capabilities first. Even though her penthouse was equipped with counter-surveillance technology – ‘garblers’ as some people liked to call them – it was always possible that someone had found a countermeasure.

She placed the data chip on the reading slot, micro-magnets holding the chip in place as the tablet established a connection. Once the connection had been established, Jezebel accessed the chip’s contents and furrowed her brow in confusion: there were no data files of any kind on the chip, at least none that she could see.

She disabled protected file concealment. Nothing. She performed a deep probe of the data chip’s memory. Still nothing. She double-checked that the chip connection was actually functional. It was. That meant that either the data chip had been completely wiped…

…Or there was nothing on the chip to begin with.

Jezebel ground her teeth in fury. The simplest explanation had to be incompetence or sloppiness: a stressed and frightened Kessler might have just grabbed the first data chip he found and hoped it had something useful on it. But he’d always been a reliable source, it was hard to believe that he could slip up at this point.

Had he double-crossed her? Possibly. Kessler had never been happy about working as a mole in the first place, maybe he’d been looking for a way out this whole time. But if that was the case, he wouldn’t dare do such a thing if he didn’t think he could get away with it. He would have needed outside help.

Jezebel snatched the tablet off the table with the data chip still attached. If her hunch was correct and Kessler had betrayed her, the chip could very well contain spyware or some other means of tracking her location; a paranoid leap of logic, to be sure, but better to be paranoid and free than naive and in prison.

With the tablet in hand, Jezebel rushed into one of the side rooms where the androids had obediently leapt to their destruction. The disposal chute was still open and Jezebel tossed the tablet in, sealing the chute after doing so. Now that all the evidence had been destroyed, she needed to skip town.

The security alarm sounded, a harsh beeping klaxon alerting her to intruders. Whoever they were, they had somehow forced their way through the front door. Jezebel threw open a storage closet and rummaged around, pulling a handgun out of a hidden compartment. Then she returned to the living room to confront the intruders.

As Jezebel aimed her gun in the direction of the main hallway, an entire squad of figures clad in night black body armour entered the living room with far more firepower at their disposal than she had. One member of the assault team, apparently the squad leader, lowered his weapon and stepped forward, activating his helmet speakers.

“Madam Jezebel Thorn,” said the squad leader, “put the gun down.”

“You’ve broken into my home and are pointing guns at me.” Jezebel pointed out, still pointing the gun squarely at him, “why should I put mine down?”

“We have orders to bring you in,” the squad leader replied coolly, “whether we bring you in dead or alive makes no particular difference.”

“So I’m guessing you’re not Civil Security?” Jezebel asked.

“Of course not.” The squad leader replied, “Now are you going to surrender, or do we have to shock you or kneecap you first?”

Jezebel was ruthless, but not reckless. She activated the safety and tossed the gun across the floor, placing her hands on top of her head. But she wouldn’t get down on her knees, not for them or anyone else, even as members of the armed squad approached to detain her.

“Who did you say you were with again?” she asked as her wrists were bound.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Replied the squad leader as Jezebel was led away.

* * *

The squad opened fire and the Faithful fired back. Viker activated his wrist-shield, protecting the squad as best he could from the incoming fire. But they were exposed and the storm of bullets was raining down on them from all around; if they wanted to survive, they had to get out of the open and right into the thick of it.

Jumpers swooped down on them like mythical harpies, and Cato and Bale turned their guns skyward, shooting off concussive shots at their fast moving opponents. The jumpers were wearing cuirasses made from bulletproof nanotube plating in lieu of shielding, but the bullets struck with enough force to pulp their targets’ innards, causing some to tumble from the air.

Those jumpers who evaded the incoming shots landed cleanly on their feet and opened fire with their shotguns. The squad’s shields were strong enough to slap the spray of pellets away, but at point blank range some made it through with reduced energy, clattering against their armour like a shower of tiny pebbles.

Cato and Bale returned fire with more concussive shots. Again, the pellets failed to penetrate the jumpers’ armour, but struck with enough force to send them flying back across the floor. They switched to automatic mode and fired at the jumpers whilst they were down; this time the bullets penetrated their targets’ armour, punching clean holes through their organs.

While Viker covered him with the wrist-shield, Gabriel provided sniper cover as best he could. The Enthralled foot soldiers stayed put behind barricades, taking turns to shoot. One of them fired a projectile from his weapon which bounced off the floor at an awkward angle, exploding at head height and splattering burning plasma in all directions.

Dodging the explosion from the poorly aimed grenade, Gabriel picked off the enemy who had fired it with a high velocity shot. The bullet screamed through the air, punching straight through the target’s skull, and continuing out the other side.

Another grenade detonated nearby. The squad’s shields absorbed the impact of the shrapnel, but it was enough of a distraction for another jumper to dive in with sword drawn. The blade missed Viker’s head as the jumper landed and took another swing at Gabriel, the tip of the blade narrowly missing his stomach. Viker deactivated his wrist-shield and fired a burst into the jumper’s chest, cracking the jumper’s ribcage with the force of the impact.

An empty crate came sailing through the air, striking Cato and knocking him off his feet. A black widow appeared, using her gravity gloves to bounce from surface to surface and drawing an electric baton in mid-pounce. She landed on top of Cato, pinning him to the ground and bringing the deadly spike down on his head.

The slanted angle of Cato’s faceplate deflected the spike to one side, saving his life; and Bale fired a burst of bullets at the black widow’s head to defend him. The material used to manufacture the black widow’s helmet was strong enough to stop the bullets, but they were fired at point blank range, too close for her shields to deflect them. The force knocked her head violently sideways, breaking her neck.

As Cato got back on his feet, a sinister, buzzing cloud appeared in one of the doorways. The Swarm-possessed Ogilvy entered the chamber with a commanding saunter, looking around the chamber with an evil stare from eyes as black as smouldering coals. The Enthralled standing nearby backed away out of reverence and fear.

“There’s our boss fight!” Gabriel shouted as he gunned down another target.

The Swarm-possessed Ogilvy raised a fist and let out a piercing scream that no Human vocal chords could mimic, causing the remaining Enthralled to freeze up as if in a trance. The possessed Ogilvy pointed at the squad, and the Faithful charged, howling with fanatical fury as they rushed forward to tear the squad limb from limb.

This was an altogether different enemy. The Faithful screamed hysterical oaths as they attacked, all sense of self-preservation erased by whatever the Swarm had done to their minds. Some of them kept their weapons in hand, firing madly in the general direction of the squad. Others dropped their weapons in a mad rush to bring their bare hands to bear.

The squad sprayed bullets on full automatic, mowing down as many as they could. The front ranks of fanatics crumpled and fell, but the ranks behind simply charged on forwards, literally tripping over one another to get their hands on the squad and tackle them to the ground. Gabriel’s weapon was knocked out of his hands as a dozen enthralled fighters pounced on him, dragging him down to the floor and trying to beat him to death.

Being assaulted by a fanatical swarm pounding away at nigh-invulnerable armour was a bizarre experience. Gabriel flailed ferociously, swinging his fists and kicking violently at his attackers. He felt his foot connect with someone’s gut, and the combat claws on his left gauntlet punctured someone else’s neck. But this was hardly standard combat; it was a frenzied brawl, with his assailants’ knuckles turning red as they beat their fists bloody against his armour.

A rifle butt connected with Gabriel’s helmet and he swung his arm around in retaliation, swatting the weapon out of his attacker’s hands and upper cutting him with his armoured fist. His helmet protected him, but amidst the pounding and brawling the next weapon could be one of the jumpers’ xenotech swords, and he wouldn’t survive a wound from a weapon like that.

“SHIELD, OVERPULSE, NOW!” Gabriel enunciated into his helmet’s mic.

His armoured suit’s onboard computer registered the voice command and triggered the over-pulse mechanism. Instead of merely halting or redirecting incoming projectiles away from the armour, the shield emitters could also emit a one off repulsive field, forcibly pushing nearby matter away in all directions as a defensive last resort.

The over-pulse violently threw the attacking mob skywards in a spectacular cloud of flying and flailing bodies. Because Gabriel was on his back, the over-pulse pushed against the floor beneath him, launching him straight up into the air along with his attackers as if he had been bounced into the sky by an enormous trampoline.

A warning flashed in Gabriel’s HUD – the over-pulse had temporarily shorted out his shield emitters – but he was more concerned about falling back to the ground. As he ran out of momentum, he felt inertia tug his innards the other way as gravity pulled him back down again. Gabriel grabbed a flying body in mid-air and twisted around, hoping to break his fall with the body of the flailing foot soldier.

It worked.

The Enthralled’s body hit the hard floor of the platform, breaking Gabriel’s fall and the Enthralled’s back with a sickeningly audible crack. As Gabriel rolled away, he rose to his feet in the same motion and drew the xenotech sword from his back. He flicked the switch to activate the energy field, and looked around for the Swarm-possessed Ogilvy.

Another black widow appeared to confront him, and Gabriel swung the blade at her. She ducked and swung her baton around to strike the back of his knee before jabbing the electrified tip into his shoulder. The million volt jolt shorted out the motors in Gabriel’s suit again, triggering more warnings in his HUD as his armour suddenly felt ten times heavier.

Gabriel swung his sword around in a defensive arc as he crumpled to the floor, slicing clean through the black widow’s body in mid-pounce and instantly cauterising her flesh. Part of her chest and shoulder fell to the ground and her upper half twitched for a few seconds before the trauma of being bisected killed off her mind.

Still holding the sword, Gabriel rose to his feet with great effort whilst the exoskeletal motors in his armour recovered. He was strong enough to move without assistance, but the entire suit weighed more than 50kg, making it difficult to move with speed or agility. That fact almost proved fatal as yet another jumper came at him with a sword of his own, aiming for his head. Gabriel raised his own sword to block the attack just in time.

When the two energised blades connected, they rebounded from one another in a spectacular flash, releasing a metallic keening sound. Gabriel stumbled backwards from the clash just as the motors in his suit rebooted, whilst the preternaturally agile jumper performed a backward roll before righting himself again and charging at Gabriel a second time.

Swordsmanship wasn’t taught in the military, but with his exoskeletal motors restored, Gabriel could make up for lack of technique by moving at least as fast as his opponent and swinging with much more force. Using the swords’ rebounding effect to his advantage, Gabriel deliberately swung at the jumper’s own sword, forcing him onto the defensive before closing in and driving the tip of his sword through the jumper’s faceplate.

As his opponent keeled over dead, Gabriel looked around and saw that the over-pulse had scattered the Faithful all over the chamber, with many of them falling to their deaths. Their broken bodies lay scattered across the platform, some stirring with agonising effort, hardly able to move due to their injuries, but mostly immobile and lifeless.

His squad members’ bio-readings were all still visible in his HUD and green, but they had been thrown clear by the over-pulse. Besides, with an antimatter bomb behind his waist and a possessed former squad member to kill, he couldn’t worry about them now.

Gabriel turned around and saw one of the Enthralled who had survived the over-pulse pointing a gun at him. In fact, it was his gun: the LMG knocked out of his hands during the brawl, now being pointed at him by an enemy grinning triumphantly even as he strained to hold the enormous weapon aloft. Gabriel didn’t try to take cover or even move as the enthralled foot soldier took aim at him and pulled the trigger.

Without Gabriel’s DNA, or the array of biometric transmitters in his gauntlet to relay that information, the gun wouldn’t fire. Instead, a set of microneedles, each as thin as a Human hair, punctured the target’s skin, injecting a cocktail of specially-designed nanobots into his hand which began rapidly killing off nearby cells, before retracting again.

Gabriel deactivated his sword’s energy field, replacing it on its magnetic sheath before approaching his foolish enemy. The enthralled foot solider could do nothing but stand there with a look of horror and agony frozen on his face as his blood vessels slowly turned black from the nanotechnological venom flowing through them.

Gabriel carefully detached the man’s rigid fingers from the handle of the gun and took back his service weapon. By that point, the deadly serum of nanobots had completely paralysed the man’s muscles, leaving him as still as a statue. Gabriel didn’t deign to put the man down, multiple organ failure would do that for him.

Gabriel turned around and was immediately struck in the chest by an armoured forearm. He caught a glimpse of a whirring cloud of particles around the armoured figure of Ogilvy as he went tumbling head over heels back across the floor. Even with a bionic exoskeleton, there was no way Ogilvy should have been strong enough to bring that much force to bear.

Gabriel’s armour protected him from being winded, let alone actual injury, but it was pretty clear he wouldn’t stand much of chance in a hand-to-hand fight. He scrambled back to his feet and prepared a high-powered shot, taking aim at the gravity belt around Ogilvy’s waist and squeezing the trigger.

He should have known better from their first encounter. The bullet travelled towards its target at atmospheric escape velocity, but the Swarm’s shielding slapped it back at him like a rubber ball hitting a wall. The bullet lost momentum from being deflected, and lost even more as it was slowed by Gabriel’s partially recovered shields, but struck him in the chest plate.

Multiple layers of carefully forged metallic alloy and nanotube plating interwoven with shock absorbent materials prevented the deflected bullet from penetrating Gabriel’s armour – saving his life – but it still struck him with enough force to knock him off his feet, and to knock the air out of his lungs.

Gabriel tried to get up, but the possessed Ogilvy got to him first, wrapping his fingers around Gabriel’s neck. The gorget armour protected Gabriel’s throat from behind crushed, but he found himself hoisted into the air, dangling like a puppet. He struggled to prise the fingers away from his throat, but the grip was unfathomably strong, too strong to undo.

The demonic Ogilvy stared at him with his burning coals for eyes as he tried to choke the life out of his former squad leader. Gabriel could see that the capillaries in his eyes had been darkened by whatever the swarm of alien particles had done to his body. Gabriel couldn’t help such attention to detail, even though it didn’t really help him.

In the corner of his HUD, Gabriel noticed his squad member’s position markers approaching. A figure came up behind the Swarm-possessed Ogilvy and jabbed a black rod into his back. The electric jolt shorted out the motors in Ogilvy’s armour, causing the possessed Ogilvy to stumble forward, dropping Gabriel in the process.

The enraged Ogilvy whirled round and swung his fist at Bale, getting up to confront him as Bale used the black widow’s baton as a club to fight back. As they fought, someone came up behind Gabriel and unlocked the clamps securing the bomb to his waist. With Bale distracting the possessed Ogilvy, Viker took the bomb and rushed up behind him, diving forwards and planting the bomb behind Ogilvy’s waist.

The clamps on the back of Ogilvy’s armour automatically snapped around the bomb, locking it in place. The Swarm-possessed Ogilvy wheeled round again in fury, smacking Viker in the side of the head. His helmet and neck armour protected him from having his neck broken, but he was knocked unconscious by the blow.

As Viker collapsed, Ogilvy turned back to Bale who tried to stab him with the spike end of the black widow’s baton. Ogilvy caught the baton and twisted it around to stab Bale through the weak point in his shoulder armour, impaling him. Bale’s bio-readings turned orange as the possessed Ogilvy took the baton by both ends and used it as a handle to lift Bale up, swing him around, and toss him into the air like a ragdoll.

Losing two squad members in as many seconds turned Gabriel’s vision red. Before Bale hit the ground, and before his opponent could react, Gabriel charged forwards and shoulder tackled Ogilvy around the thigh, leaping into the air in the same motion. Gabriel’s own genetically enhanced strength was superhuman, and combined with the strength provided by his armour, he was able to toss Ogilvy skyward the same way Bale had been thrown.

The possessed monster roared in fury as he went sailing through the air. Yet somehow he twisted in mid-air, landing on his feet with preternatural agility that no Human could achieve. Gabriel didn’t give him a chance to recover, drawing the sword and flicking the energy field switch as he charged forwards. The possessed Ogilvy snarled like a feral beast as Gabriel swung the blade at him, attempting to force him backwards off the edge of the dais.

The Swarm’s energy shielding didn’t merely block projectiles, it could also guard against the deadly energy field around Gabriel’s sword. Every time the blade came close, it was slapped back again with a flash of energy, protecting the host from being sliced apart. But it had the desired effect; Ogilvy was forced on to the back foot, backing away from the relentless attacks all the way back to the edge of the dais.

However, the Swarm had no intention of being forced back into the containment shield, and without warning, Ogilvy grabbed the xenotech blade between his palms. The Swarm-generated shielding protected his hands from being cut to pieces, and also generated a violent feedback loop, causing a sputtering whining sound as the two energy fields clashed.

Gabriel strained against his opponent’s superior strength, but the possessed Ogilvy was literally pushing the blade back at him. Then with a ferocious scream, Ogilvy snapped the blade with his armoured gauntlets, scattering the shards in all directions. Before Gabriel could react, Ogilvy had shoved him back down the steps of the dais and landed on top of him, unsheathing his combat claws before bringing them down towards Gabriel’s neck.

Gabriel put his hands out at the last second. With his left fist clenched, his remaining combat claws locked with Ogilvy’s claws whilst he grabbed Ogilvy’s other fist with his clawless right gauntlet. Gabriel was pinned on his back, locked in a two-handed grapple as a much stronger opponent bore down on him.

Gabriel lashed out with a kick to Ogilvy’s gut, hitting the button on his gravity belt and deactivating it. Ogilvy hardly flinched, instead pushing down even harder, trying to force his combat claws through the weak points under Gabriel’s gorget armour. The swarm of alien particles began to whirl even faster, forming a screaming, silver maelstrom that seemed to reflect the aggression of its host.

Even with the assistance of his strength-enhancing exoskeleton, Gabriel was straining to keep the deadly claws away from his throat, and without much success. His armour was an added layer of protection; but with enough force applied to the weak points it could be pierced. Gabriel’s strength was starting to fail. It felt like trying to bench press an armoured vehicle with a deadly incentive to lift closing in on his throat.

Was this how he was going to die?

11:09:73

The timer was ticking down towards zero, and they would both be annihilated when it did. So why not bring everything to a close right now? Just let the claws slide through armour’s weak points and into his neck? Once his jugular and carotid were severed, it would take about a minute for him to lose consciousness from blood loss, and a few more minutes for his heart to stop. Once his pulse ceased, the bomb’s timer would skip to t-minus 00:00:01.

They would die together.

Through the swirling silver cloud of particles, Gabriel could see the ghostly pale face of his former squad member, his eyes turned black by the Swarm’s possession, and his mouth slowly twisting into a sickly, triumphant grin. Gabriel could hardly make out the face of his soon-to-be killer, but he could vaguely make out the grin.

It reminded him a little of Rose’s grin.

For some reason, that memory was what flashed through his mind whilst staring his own death in the face: his daughter’s mischievous smile when she’d poked him in the nose on his way out the door. If he died, would she understand why he wasn’t coming home? Would Orion or Violet or Leo understand?

Of course they wouldn’t.

The pain in Gabriel’s muscles was subsumed by a much more biting pang of emotion: the vision of four pairs of bright green eyes, identical to his own, brimming with tears at being told that daddy was never coming home. Aster would be grief-stricken, but at least she would understand; the children wouldn’t.

In fact, it would be worse than that. When the antimatter bomb detonated, the energy released by the explosion would annihilate all matter within a cubic kilometre or more. There would be nothing left of him to bury, no remains to be collected, not even a piece of his armour over which Aster and the children could mourn. All trace of him would be obliterated, with nothing but an empty casket at his funeral.

Ogilvy’s combat claws made contact with Gabriel’s armour, pressing against the weak points in his neck armour. If he was going to survive, he had to fight back now. His muscles were on fire from the effort of pushing back, and he had very little strength left to resist.

But he did have one last trick left to play.

“Override: Lieutenant Ogilvy, root access.” Gabriel said through gritted teeth, straining to pronounce the words into his mic, “Victory. Sovereign. One. Seven. Zero. Seven.”

The pain in Gabriel’s muscles made it a challenge just to enunciate clearly enough to be acknowledged. But it worked; a command link was established remotely from the computer in his suit to the computer in Ogilvy’s suit.

“Override: shield…over-pulse…” Gabriel could barely get the syllables to leave his mouth clearly, and he felt Ogilvy’s combat claws find the weak points in his armour and the cold sting of the claws starting to pierce his flesh.

“NOW!” he screamed.

Gabriel’s voice command remotely triggered the over-pulse mechanism in Ogilvy’s armour, violently repelling all matter around him. Gabriel was already on the floor, and was knocked flat again, but the Swarm-possessed Ogilvy was catapulted straight into the air.

Ogilvy’s flailing body travelled straight upwards in a steep parabolic arc over the dais, crying out with a keening scream of thwarted rage all the way up and all the way down again until he fell through the top of the containment shield.

The timer jumped to: 00:00:10.