First Contact

First Contact - Chapter [CLASSIFIED] - Council's End

Never forget that before your op is someone else's op, that while you're doing your run someone else is making their run, and after your run there is another beginning or doing their run. - Street Solo advice, Fighting Man's Magazine, Resource War Era, TerraSol.

Speaks blew the android's head off with his SMG, grabbing the body and yanking it out even as he leveled the SMG at the creation engine's computer system and pulled the trigger. The SMG had a whistling noise and Speaks knew the barrel was almost shot out.

The light SMG, firing 2.2mm rounds, was supposed to only see a few bursts worth the work, maybe one or two mags.

Speaks had burned through almost a dozen mags and the memory-plas was badly worn.

The android crashed to the ground and Speaks patted him down. He was carrying a heavy battle rifle, high caliber, loaded with heavy mass reactive gyrojet rounds, with an underslung 20mm variable munition grenade launcher. Speaks stripped grenades off the android's harness, checking them over and tucking them into his own gear.

A quick glance outside the conex showed that nobody was close and he scurried across and down a narrow gap between conex stacks. Lights stabbed down, searching through the conex containers and the equipment of the shipping yard. Speaks looked up and saw hovercraft in the air, some marked with LawSec and others marked with news stations.

"No, you idiots," Speaks swore, running for the fence.

That instinct raised up again and Speaks threw himself to the side, rolling, and a loud KARAK! sounded out right before a crater was blown out of the ferrocrete right where he would have been.

Speaks dropped a grenade as he rolled, coming up on his three feet and running for the conexes. The sniper was on the upper level highway access.

The sniper round blew through his shield and came so close that the air displacement ripped the end of his left antenna off. Speaks staggered, slapping his camo and putting on a burst of speed.

In the sky two of the LawSec HRT and one of the news hovercraft exploded. The unarmored news hovercraft fell to the ground, a burning hulk erupting in flames, the two HRT craft falling from the sky and slamming into the ground, the high-G impact killing the crews.

Speaks put on a burst of speed, running across a major twelve lane highway, not bothering to dodge and hoping autodrive's auto-brake systems saved him.

One of the vehicles whipped by, so close the wind of its passage spun him around. He was buffeted by a set of cargo lifters, just trailers with running lights and four conexes on it, and managed to sprint across the last bit, using his bladearms to quickly slice through the fence, dart through, and tumble down the ferrocrete.

He splashed down in water, abdomen deep, and hurried as fast as he could across the massive culvert. Speaks scrambled up the angled far side, reaching the top, and looked back.

The androids at the far side of the highway were opening up on the incoming vehicles. Some exploded, others veered off and crashed as the driver was killed and the smart-dash was destroyed. Still others smashed into other ones as the autodrive feature failed.

A platoon of androids jogged across the highway.

Speaks leveled the battle rifle and dumped the entire mag in one long ripping figure-eight burst.

A half dozen of the androids dropped. One had both arms blown off. The one behind it shot it in the back of the head and stepped over the bubbling dissolving body.

I know something I really shouldn't, Speaks thought to himself as he turned and ripped through the fencing with his bladearms before racing for the used vehicle sales lot on the other side. Tracers whipped around him and his personal protective device failed with a bright flash.

He ducked down behind a used limo, breathing heavy, and swapped magazine in the heavy battle rifle. He took a moment to look it over.

Ares Arms HK32A2 was on the side. 7.62mm was underneath.

Ares Arms? They've been out of business since the Glassing,Speaks thought. He looked at it again. HK32 model? The same kind used in the Extinction Agenda Wars. I recognize it from video games.

He looked it over. Standard high impact aluminum alloy, brushed steel bolt, rounded handgrips, forward folding firing handle, gear rails, smartlink.

It was a relic.

Still kills like a motherfucker, though, Speaks grinned. Gotta love the primates and their 'fuck your evolutionary arms race' attitude.

His PPD (Personal Protective Device) beeped and he thumbed it. The shield was low power, but the prismatic camouflage was what he needed.

He glanced around, saw the first of the androids crest the top of the huge culvert, and scuttled away, keeping low.

-----

"Madame Diplomat, you need to see this," Dreams' Tukna'rn guard suddenly said.

Dreams looked up from the treaty that she had finally gotten signed that would allow Confed ships to go into a thirty system cluster and find out why the computer systems were on the glitch and not allowing any loading or unloading of cargo vessels.

The Tukna'rn turned on the holotank and the local news channel popped on.

FIGHTING IN THE CAPITOL! was the main chyron was scrolling.

LAWSEC REQUESTS MILITARY ASSISTANCE was another.

On the viewscreen she saw tracers snapping out, reaching up, and raking a LawSec HRT grav striker, pinpoint accuracy not only disabling the engines but blowing in the windows and chopping the pilot and copilot to rags. The camera bobbled and got a view of nearly two dozen bipedal figures kneeling down, engaged in a heavy firefight with heavily armed LawSec.

LAWSEC URGES EVERYONE TO ENTER SHELTERS! scrolled by.

One of the attackers went down and the camera zoomed in even as the chyron changed.

ARE HUMANS BACK AND ATTACKING? EXPERTS SAY: I'M SORRY BUT I'M LATE FOR VACATION IN ANOTHER GALACTIC ARM!

She saw the bluish skin, the angular features. The helmet the figure was wearing rolled off and she saw that the biped's head was blocky, with no hair, and a shining disk of durachrome on the temple.

Android! she thought, staring. Who is bringing in androids?

The camera shifted to show a blurred figure, tiny compared to the blue skinned bipeds, running through the conexes of the shipping yard, a dozen of the androids chasing it. She saw the blurred figure drop a prism grenade and jink down another line, the camera losing view on it.

BLUE HUMANS CHASE BLURRY THING! ARE YOUR CHILDREN IN DANGER? EXPERTS SAY: OH GOD, HIDE THE KIDS!

One of the androids looked up, saw the camera, raised their rifle.

There was a flash and the view changed.

COUNCIL CITY SPACEPORT UNDER ASSAULT! the chyron said as the view showed nearly a hundred of the blue skinned figures firing and manuevering toward the spaceport.

Dreams looked up at the Tukna'rn.

"Get a hold of the Marines, tell them weapons free on my authority. Protect the spaceport," she ordered.

The Tukna'rn nodded.

She looked at the mosizlak and 117. "Do any of you know where that brat Speaks is?"

-----

Speaks kicked in the back door of the diner, limping into the dark back room. He moved into the kitchen, checking his corners, and started to move toward the serving counter when he stopped.

BOBCO GOODY YUM YUM NUTRIFORGE glowed in the front of the device next to the huge griddles.

Speaks moved over to it, bringing up the holographic context menu and quickly moving through it. He got to the upgrade menu and tapped his datasoft slots, rotating out what he could access. He punched in the upgrade registration serial number.

The nutriforge beeped and new context menus come up.

Gimme ten minutes and this will be a new fight, he thought as he started rapidly punching in codes.

-----

Casey jogged through the wreckage, ignoring the radiation warnings on his HUD, his cannon held close as he jumped onto a mound of debris that had been an office building only a few minutes before. He quickly navigated up the mound of debris, ignoring the way it shuddered under the heavy tread of Lozen's feet.

The command channel icon blinked and Casey brought it up.

Instead of Peel, Daxin, or Dee it was a bearded man, his pale face old and wrinkled, his eyes burning blue, his hair white.

Senior Prophet Breathnach.

"Your mission. Is a one of sin, young Cathal," the Senior Prophet said.

"Do not attempt to speak to me as if you are the Senior Prophet speaking from beyond the grave," Casey said, his voice steady as he jumped down off a section of rubble, dropping sixty feet and landing easily. He twitched a muscle and sent Peel a copy of the conversation.

The picture rippled, showing a gray faced man with spectacles, bald, and wide smile that reminded Casey of a crazy man who'd once gone at him. "We can reward you. Greatly reward you, Chief Warrant Officer Casey," the mannequin said.

"There is no reward you can offer me to turn me from my task," Casey said.

"Casey, I'm detecting two Novastar armors powering up," Lozen said.

"We can bring back. Your entire world. Bring your people. Back to life," the face promised, making a big smile.

"Each person has but one life under the Gods. What you offer is not salvation but blasphemy," Casey said.

"Range, one mile. They're heading toward us," Lozen said. Her voice paused. "They've got the same headers and ID as we do. Detecting two more coming online from behind us, they've got us boxed in."

"Yet we can. Restore their. Lives," the smiling face said.

"Flesh without the divinity of the soul is merely a homunculus created by Man's overweening pride and arrogance," Casey quoted.

"Religion? The soul was. Proven. Not to exist thousands. Of years ago," the voice said.

"I choose to believe otherwise," Casey answered, checking his map for a clear open area. He altered course, heading for a large ornate park.

"Superstition has been. Washed. From mankind. By our hand," the voice said.

"The Digital Omnimessiah gives lie to that," Casey said.

"Rogue code. A malfunctioning. AI," the voice stated.

"Yet others believe in his divinity," Casey said.

"Weak minded sheep. Bleeting. As they mill about. Looking for meaning for their. Lives. Meaning. That we can. Give," the voice said.

"Insulting religion will surely turn me to your side," Casey said. "Insulting my beliefs will undoutably win me over."

"See the truth. Warrant Officer Casey. Your religion. Your religious leaders. Merely used your belief. In superstition. To get you to do. What they wanted," the voice stated. "Your holy books state. To abide by the word of. Authority. To render unto kings what. Is the king's. To do what is. Right. In the mortal world."

"First you deride my beliefs, then you attempt to use them to sway my opinion?" Casey asked, crossing the parking lot to the park. He slowed to a walk. "Try to use an argument you find primitive and superstitious to attempt to get me to do what you want reeks of hypocrisy."

"Then turn away. From the mission you seek. Whatever it may be. And. Join us. Join the winning team. Chief Warrant. Officer. Casey," the smiling said. "WE are the Confederacy. The real Confederacy. We would not. Have let your homeworld. Die. We can bring it back. Join us. And. Wealth. Power. Prestige. Fame. All of this. Can be yours."

"What gain does a man stand to accomplish should he set aside honor and the duty to the Gods?" Casey quoted.

The smiling face seemed to snarl. "Then die. And know. You could have been. On the winning side."

"And how, agent of Ragnarok, wouldst thou have planned to kill one such as I?" Casey asked, closing his one eye for a moment even as he jogged forward.

"You may be. Powerful. Wrapped in that. Armor. But you cannot prevail. Against four. Of yourself," the smiling face laughed.

The channel went out.

"Lozen, reactivate the command channel, override the signal, link me to the four others," Casey said.

"If you're sure, beloved," Lozen said. She paused a moment. "We're in. They have to hear you now, my love," she purred.

Casey slowed to a stop in the middle of an open field, statues behind him, a fountain ahead. The stones around him were laced with gold, thin tendrils of gold that sparkled in the light of the artificial star overhead.

"Brothers, stay thy hands," Casey said over the channel. "Parlay in the name of our liege Tyr. Come unto me and let us speak."

There was a slight pause and the affirmative light blinked four different times.

"Casey, we can't take four of ourself," Lozen said.

"Trust me," Casey said softly. "Main gun in storage and movement mode, close the covers on everything else."

The heavy 66mm cannon raised up and locked into storage position. The shields closed over the missile launchers. Irises shut over flare and mortar ejectors and lighter infinite repeaters.

Less than two minutes later all four of the Novastar power armors exited from various points. They all came to a stop.

Casey slowly moved in a circle.

"Chief Warrant Officer Three Casey, raise your hand," he said.

They all raised their hands, then dropped them, turning to look at one another, then back at Casey.

"How is this possible?" one of the newcomers asked.

"The enemy cloned us. Took our medical records and cloned us somehow," Casey answered.

"Blasphemy," one of him said.

Casey could tell they were younger, centuries younger than he was.

"Which is the original?" one asked.

"There would be no way to tell," another said.

"Those who are not are nothing more than soulless copies," another added.

"One of us will be the original, the one with a soul, but how do we tell?" the last asked.

Casey pointed at one. "Tell me the name of your armor," he said. "No, wait, let her tell me her name."

There was silence.

"She is not awakened," one said.

The others agreed.

"I am Lozen," Casey's armor said. "And all who stand before my beloved and I are naught but dogmeat for the jackals."

Casey heard a low, pained groan from one of them.

"Ranks?" Casey asked.

All of them stated Chief Warrant Officer Three, Ringbreaker Team One.

"Lance Corporal Casey, Telkan Marine Division, Confederate Armed Services," Casey said.

More low, pained groans.

Casey activated his image, let the other four see his face.

"I alone know how my eye was taken from me," he said. "A missing eye, cleaved from my very skull in combat, would not be in our DNA. Reparing it, replacing it, would be blasphemy."

They all nodded, their pictures appearing.

Casey could see they were all young, from during the Ringwars.

"They copied all of you from ancient records," Casey said. He held up his hand, opening his fingers so that the sunlight glittered off the razor sharp fingers of the armor.

Pink sparkles flared.

"Your armor is not consecrated, brothers," Casey said. "As mine is."

All of the others groaned.

"But none are beyond redemption," Casey stated.

They all looked at him.

"You did not do this of your own volition," Casey stated. "Redemption can be found under fire."

The others all nodded.

"I go to stop this madness. Stop the War in Heaven and the Blood War in Hell," Casey said. He held his hand out. "Join me, brothers, and we shall forge thee souls from the fires of war, shape them on the anvil of combat, and cleave to one another as blood brothers."

The others nodded.

"Lets go," Casey said. He took a deep breath and began moving forward.

"Let us serve the Mistress of Hell before the serpents coiled upon mankind's bosom," Casey said.

The other four hesitated a moment, then followed.

-----

Speaks rolled out from behind the car, firing the battle rifle one handed, using his bladearm to steady it. High-Vee rounds punched through the other car before he got cover behind the engine block. He could hear the POK POK POK of rounds hitting the engine block and knew he didn't have much time.

He checked his ammo.

The battle rifle was out. He had two sticks for his pistol. Eight sticks for the other weapon still contained in the cylinder. He was out of grenades, his PPD was overloaded and overheated.

He glanced at the diner, checking his HUD clock.

The cake should be done, Speaks thought to himself. He reached out, opened the door of the car in front of him, and scurried into the seat, climbing to the door and opening it.

The windows shattered as high-vee rounds punched through the macroplas.

He scurried out the door, sprinting on three feet into the back of the diner.

High-vee rounds whistled through the walls as the android gunners tried to find him.

In front of the BobCo nutriforge was a pile of gear, the abdominal plating still steaming.

Speaks breathed a sigh of relief, hurrying to the pile of gear, staying low.

It only took a few minutes to strap on and Speaks grinned as he used the last of the battle rifle ammo to rip open a hole in the wall between the cooking area and the serving area. He dropped the battle rifle and hefted his newly printed Confederate infantry magac rifle, then scuttled through the hole, ducking low, and moved into the dining area.

The glass was shattered by the high-vee rounds which had finally stopped ripping through the building. Speaks ran and jumped out the window, rolling, coming up and running across the parking lot.

A large heavy black hoversedan slewed off the highway, smashing through the ceramacrete barrier and slewing to a stop right next to Speaks. The door flew open and Speaks stared at the large black Lanaktallan in the driver's seat who looked down at the black mantid.

"Do you need assistance?" Ru'udamo'o asked.

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