The Martyr General sat in the dim light of his study, his face bathed in the glow of the multiple monitors in front of him. His hand waved a motion over his lap and a keyboard projected under his fingers. He began to type, and the monitors responded in kind, flipping through different images, feeds, and statistics. Information from all around the world was at his fingertips. Brokering deals with every country had its rewards, and Christian had access to every mainframe's network.
"Things don't always fall in line with plans, do they?" Christian mumbled to himself, looking over at the war in the northern reaches of the Enian Federation. "Where are the peons?" The man drummed his fingers on his knee impatiently, disrupting the projected keyboard. The plan was not entirely ruined, and was still well within his ability to resurrect, but the delays he had experienced, the unforeseen changes in behaviour, were certainly an annoyance. Were it possible to unravel such an intricate web with only some minor cuts, Christian would have never gone to such extents to begin with.
"Sir, your ship has landed." The black-clad soldier approached the Emperor's chair with caution, very much aware of the Emperor's penchant for sudden mood swings when interrupted. "It can depart as you need."
There was nothing but silence from Christian, his fingers waving over the light as the screens continued to shift. The soldier took another step forward, eternally wary of his master. "Did you know that for each country, each religion, each belief, they all have one thing in common?"
The soldier went stiff and stood straight to attention. Whenever the Emperor asked a question there were only two possible results: nothing, or swift execution. Something must have either fouled his mood or pleased him greatly and whichever way it had gone would control the soldier's future. "They all believe in a higher power?"
Christian laughed, the sound bouncing around the room and surrounding the terrified soldier. "Higher powers? They don't know if a higher power even exists. No matter where you go or who you talk to, no matter what situation you thrust a human in to, there will always be a common bond, regardless of what church they pray in." The Emperor spun around in his seat, his cackle continuing as the screens flickered. "It is a fear of death." The soldier stumbled backwards, his terror overtaking him. Such an answer could only mean this was the end of this pawn's life. "See, the fear of death is strong within you too." Christian placed his hand on the man's shoulder, steadying him and reducing the man's trembling. "It is natural, normal. All of human behaviour is guided only by our fear of death. It has stymied our world, held it back from true progress. But marvel at them." The Emperor pointed back at the monitors, images of the Jahari flashing by. "No fear, no pain, no emotions. They charge into battle without blinking, without stopping to think. They are the answer, the future. If we can harness such power over humans, we can reach a perfect state, a world without a fear of death."
Christian passed by the soldier and the man's legs gave out from under him, turning to jelly from the stress. The door hissed open, letting light pour in around the Emperor's body, turning his body into nothing more but a black silhouette. "But first, we have to clean the slate of all these pathetic creatures." Christian smiled, letting the door seal shut behind him, leaving the soldier alone in the room.
More troops immediately surrounded the Emperor, draping him in his cape and cleaning any dirt off his body. "How may we assist you sir?"
"Do you need anything?"
"Are you hungry sir?"
"Can I grab something for you sir?"
Christian dismissed them all, brushing them aside. He didn't need them anymore. What had once been useful, beneficial, was now just a nuisance. All he really needed were his Enigma soldiers, the perfect weapons to use on the Jahari. But with Sigma rogue and Allyson stolen from his lab, he had only Syn to rely upon, and he was a wildcard at best. But, then again, Syn was really all he would need.
The Emperor stepped into the shuttle prepared for him. It was a small vessel, Enian in design. Another servant quickly dashed up to him and carefully placed the Enian Federation crest on Christian's chest. Today he would be a member of the Enian Federation, tomorrow he might be a trader with the Eastern United States. Or perhaps the world would be recognizing him as the one true Emperor come tomorrow evening. It would all rest on how he played his cards now.
"The groundwork has been laid for so long, my faithful minions." Christian stood in the entrance to his ship, addressing anyone who was nearby. "Now is the time to finally take action and show ourselves to the world. You have all played your parts perfectly, and it is now time for the maestro to conduct his final orchestra. Farewell." The shuttle lifted into the air, the ceiling opening up and exposing the blue sky above. As the vessel flew away from the base, Christian watched plumes of orange and red begin to shoot off the building, the thunderous roar of the explosions catching up after as the ship sped up. "There is no place for those who fear death in my new world, not even those who I once called loyal followers."
* * * * *
Porter slid backwards to dodge a charging Bahari. It swiped its claw through the air, inches from where Porter's chest plate had been a second ago. He was beginning to notice differences in the individual Bahari, ranging from size to strange mutations. The one in front of him had one arm that ended in a vicious claw while the other arm had no hand at the end, instead tapering off to form a lance, and the monster thrust it forward to try and catch Porter as he back-stepped.
The White Storm's swords crossed in front of it, slicing apart the bio-lance. Porter hadn't felt his brain command his hands to do that; it had been entirely reflexes. The young pilot countered with a forward lunge, driving his twin blades into the creature's chest and then pulling them apart, splitting the beast in half horizontally.
Before he could move, two more Bahari had jumped onto Porter's back, smaller ones designed for sabotage and disruption. Their acidic tongues whipped around their faces, searching for new materials to dissolve and then consume. A burst of electricity wrapped around Porter's battlesuit, shocking the Bahari. Their biological muscles went through spasms while their electronic components short-circuited, causing the monsters to slide off the White Storm and collapse on the ground. Before they could recover, Porter had driven a sword into each core, moving on to the next foes.
Something smashed into the back of Porter's left shoulder, causing him to lose his focus for a moment. He had to quickly recover to turn aside a different Bahari, deflecting its strike and sending it spinning into a hail of bullets from a group of Artisan Goliaths. The White Storm began running a scan of its external armour, trying to gauge the damage it had suffered: nothing much, minimal penetration beyond the first layer of steel.
But whatever had impacted the youth was still there. The scan showed a large mass stuck to his back still, just under his shoulder. He had to awkwardly control his Goliath as he attempted to force his battlesuit to essentially scratch its back, something it was clearly not built for. He gripped the mystery object and pulled hard, the fingers of the White Storm squishing into something soft.
Finally, Porter managed to wrench the mass off his body and held it up in front of his Goliath's face. It appeared to be a slug, a living, writhing slug replete with a circular mouth and dozens of tiny teeth. A thin drip of Jahari acid slid out of its mouth and Porter quickly tossed it to the ground, partially so he could step on it and partially out of disgusting shock. It seemed that more than just the Jahari battlesuits were living; even their weapons were biological abominations.
The Enian pilot spun around, searching out whatever had managed to hit him with the slug. He quickly spotted the culprit: a hulking Bahari almost twice the size of its brethren. Its chest doubled the White Storm's, with thick arms it placed down on the ground, walking like a massive gorilla. Upon each shoulder was a huge cannon, with barrels that extended well past the monster's head. On its back, Porter could make out tiny Jahari scrambling around, priming the guns and using the creature as a massive tank.
Another shot fired out of one of the beast's shoulder cannons and a fat slug burst out the end, aimed to fire past Porter into a group of Enian battlesuits. The living bullet flew over the youth's head, arcing down into the middle of the Enians. It sat for a moment before quickly swelling and then exploding with tremendous force, knocking back the warmachines and spraying them with corrosive acid. Porter watched in horror as the liquid quickly burned through the outer armour of each Goliath, the pilots frantically trying to wipe it off. But their battlesuits, previously a protective shell, had become their tombs, death traps that cocooned the pilots within in a mess of acid and machinery.
Porter's jaw clenched, his face set with determination. He knew his next target now, and his new priority. The larger Bahari was surrounded by a guard of its smaller brethren, some of which had arms that fused into a rifle, firing tainted bullets coated in corrosive fluids. They would not be easy to bypass, but to save lives, Porter was prepared to face any foe.
* * * * *
Ardwen spun away from another Bahari, dodging its attack and retreating closer to Riya. Her Goliath was a mobile turret and focal point for the Enian army, rallying around her firepower and pushing back against the encroaching monsters. But Ardwen could see through it all: this was not a winning effort. The combined Artisan-Enian forces were being quickly battered down by the waves of Bahari, and the troops on the ground were not faring much better against the Jahari. If they couldn't get more generals onto the battlefield soon, they may not last beyond the end of the day.
Another Bahari took a swing at Ardwen, and he grabbed its claw out of the air, pulling it closer then driving his knee up into its face. He quickly adjusted the spheres floating around him, firing the small lasers they each had at the monster's heart. Its core ruptured, leaking the liquids within onto the ground before Ardwen let its body drop to the ground. "You think the top of Saint Maurius Academy doesn't know how to do well in hand-to-hand combat? Think again."
"I don't believe they can think, Ardwen," Riya replied, surprising the strategist as he had completely forgotten he had kept open the communication network between him and Riya.
"Yes, well, they underestimated me, that's all." Ardwen's face went flush from embarrassment. "Just don't tell Gretta about that ok?"
"Our secret." Riya winked in her cockpit before unloading another barrage of missiles at an oncoming Bahari wave. "I'm running out of ammunition though. I'll need to go back to the base for restocking soon, with your permission of course."
Ardwen sat back in his seat for a second, calculating the time he would have without Riya. Currently, her power was largely responsible for redirecting the flow of the approaching Bahari army, directing them around her position and funnelling them into choke points in the cliffs where they could be killed off. If she were to bow out, even for a couple hours, they would need to fall back from their positions...or charge ahead.
An alert went off on one of Ardwen's screens, indicating Porter's change in direction. Ardwen was keeping track of the rest of the CRU, trying to mark their courses and plan around it, knowing they would barely follow his orders this deep into combat. But Porter's sudden shift meant he was after something, and Ardwen followed along with his finger until he hovered over the artillery Bahari, one the military had already classified as a Mahari, or Mega Bahari. A few had been spotted among the horde and were quickly being targeted as major threats. They were almost always surrounded by a guard of Bahari, intent on preserving such a precious weapon, and only some of the highest ranking generals had been assigned to deal with them so far.
Ardwen recalculated his plans, taking into account Porter's potential removal of the Mahari. If he could create a hole that big in the enemy army, then a properly organized spearhead could bend the Bahari frontlines and possibly even break them, splitting the Bahari in two. If he followed up with a pincer movement, creating a trident...
"Yes Riya, you can return to restock. Make sure you get back as soon as possible though. We'll need you again."
"Roger." Riya fired off her last few rounds of missiles before darting back through the mountains towards the base. Ardwen leaned forward in his seat and held his forehead in his hand, feeling the sweat along it. This would be a time for tactical planning and flawless execution. This had been what his brother had done before he had vanished. This would be Ardwen's moment, his time to take command of so many more lives and direct them. He would take on the responsibility of keeping them alive and each soldier lost would be on his conscious.
It was time to push back and take a stand against the Bahari. Ardwen's finger shook as he pressed the button to open up mass communications to the surrounding pilots and generals. He coughed a little to clear his throat, feeling it tighten up again immediately. His stomach twisted around, jumping up into his chest in an effort to inhibit his speaking. But he broke through his nerves. "This is Ardwen of the Saint Maurius Academy Crisis Rescue Unit..."
A/N: A whole new class of Bahari have arrived, threatening to exterminate the human army with ease. Is Porter's strength enough to take one down?