Smoke filled the air, obscuring the blood and twisted metal born of war. Despite his exceptional senses, Scott couldn't smell anything but smoke. He had no choice but to let his hard light visor do all the work, the visibility readings fluctuated around forty percent. A trio of figures moved through the smoke, silhouettes identical in their feminine aspect. Their weapons fanned out as they advanced in a quick moving skirmish line. Pale Garden troopers.
Scott hid behind the remnants of an armored troop carrier, and let the squad move past his position. With a roar, he fired his pistol, hitting the enemy in the middle twice and grazing another. He charged them, his own roar joined by a second as he brought his plasmatic edge to bear. Their flexsteel armor was no match for the super heated arc of light played against them. In seconds, Scott alone stood victorious.
A buzzing noise passed overhead, disrupting the blanket of smoke and dust crawling across the ground. For a moment, Scott glimpsed the slate gray sky of the unnamed satellite moon and its massive parent planet dominating the space beyond. Then the buzzing drones made a second pass, chiseling away at the earth with volleys of medium-yield kinetic rounds. The bodies of the disabled troopers were shredded by the barrage, and Scott was taken off his feet. A normal soldier would have been torn to bits. His heavy combat gear ruined, the bullets bounced off of his armored skin. The R.Nano in his blood made him a war machine, but he still felt the assault like getting hit with a hundred baseballs in rapid succession.
"Hitman, where the Shkshk Hssai is my air support?" he shouted.
"I'm trying my best, but, until you get rid of that tower, I can only make short sweeps." Hitman's voice was a nasal trill over the comms.
"I'm getting hammered down here."
Flipping to his feet, Scott stared hard to the east, and his electric green visor did the rest. He locked onto the anti-air defense tower, the beam cannon on top fashioned to resemble a rose in bloom. The target was nearly a thousand feet away and he was still more than two hundred feet out of position. In the distance, he caught sight of Hitman's ship. The turret atop the tower rotated and fired a beam of light across the sky, missing by a hair's breadth.
"Shit! Take out that tower before it cuts me in half!"
"Quit crying," Scott growled. "I'm on it."
Sensitive ears registered the rumble of a nearby armored cycle. Scott smirked as he ran through the dense smoke, letting his ears lead the way until his visor zeroed in on the shape. A driver and passenger moving slowly. They couldn't see either. He closed the distance between them in silence. Scott's youth on Felarnia had been spent among extraordinary men and women born with senses of sight and hearing far beyond his own. At a young age he'd learned to move like The Ghost of Hssai. The gunner on the back of the cycle didn't notice Scott until it was already too late.
Scott leapt into the air, bringing his foot down in a sweep that tossed her from the back of the vehicle. The driver turned around, but he was already on her. In a blur of clawed strikes she was in the dirt bleeding from her shattered helmet and ruined throat. Scott pumped the throttle and gunned the engine in the direction of the tower. He could hear the drones sweeping the skies above and Hitman's guns trying their best to keep the airspace clear.
Spider: Shkshk Hssai? You're invoking Felarnia's dead gods now?
The words scrolled across his optical lenses.
"How do you know about the Shkshk?"
Spider: I asked. Renegade gave me a few books to read.
"Stay out of our business."
Spider: You know I love cat stuff.
"Stop it."
Spider: Massive cat gods? Who wouldn't find them fascinating?
"I hate you."
Spider: I can live with that. I'm in position. You hit the shield generator at the base and I'll level this tower.
"Make it count. This is my last rocket."
Spider: Copy that.
They'd taken out two of the facility's three defense turrets with the same tactic. One rocket to disrupt the flow of energy for their shields, and another to destroy the beam laser. The team had scouted the Pale Garden installation for weeks to be sure they weren't biting off more than they could chew. A small contingent of troopers, two dozen ground vehicles, and a drone factory. Patricia was sure they'd stumbled onto a weapons depot, Liam hoped they'd find more. He wanted data on The Garden's operations within Earth Conglomerate controlled space, and anything he could find on the elusive Lord Scorpion. Scott didn't care about any of that. He just wanted to destroy as much of Lady Belladonna's infrastructure as possible. Smash it all.
He broke free of the smoke cloud a few feet away from a group of troopers erecting a mobile pill box. He angled the cycle towards them, and put pressure on the accelerator. The cycle barreled towards the shield and gun combo. Scott jumped from the weaponized motorcycle just before it hit the power generator. The ensuing explosion singed the exposed hair on his face. A burning trooper stumbled away from the wreckage and Scott shot him in the chest.
He checked his visor: seven hundred and eighty feet from target. Close enough.
He unslung his rocket launcher, and loaded an armor-piercing warhead.
"Let's do it."
Spider: HUD display sync. Countdown, three seconds.
3
A large 3 appeared in the center of his hard light visor superimposed over the battlefield. Tall chain link fences surrounded the knot of buildings. Guard towers protected the corners and permanent gun enclosures created overlapping fields of fire. The installation sat on a hilltop, making the approach an uphill climb from every direction.
2
A 2 filled Scott's view of the green hued world. The drone factory atop the central complex spewed forth a dozen freshly manufactured combat machines. Their buzzing, audible over the sound of gunfire and explosions, followed them into the air above the Pale Garden base. Hitman's job would be to disable the factory once the air defenses were dealt with.
1
The number 1 took center stage as the tower's turret swiveled to fire upon Hitman's ship. He flew through the flock of drones, reducing a fourth of their number to slag in the collision. The pilot was trying his best to earn the price tag he put on his services. Scott had choice words for Spider about recruiting new guns untested.
0
Scott fired and a moment later a similar projectile launched from the wreck of a smoking enemy tank. Scott's projectile detonated a foot from the tower base, the explosion awakening the field of energy sheathing the defense. Spider's rocket hit the flower shaped laser turret dead center. The bloom erupted in flame and debris then crumpled in on the southwest guard tower.
Spider: You missed
"Horseshoes and hand grenades."
Spider: Good point. Looks like you've been looking into old Earth expressions. A veritable cultural exchange-
A third explosion slagged the distant damaged tank, Spider's hiding place.
"Liam!" Scott's pulse quickened.
Figures arose out of the ground surrounding the wreck, firing as they emerged. Scott's visor marked them as a mix of troopers and legionnaires, better trained and better equipped Pale Garden foot soldiers. Spider burst out of the slag like a charging bull, plowing into nearby enemies and firing on the others.
Spider: Codenames, Raven.
Scott's retort died on his tongue as the ground beneath his feet crumbled. He fell for a few seconds before landing heavily on a magnetic lift. Around him were a dozen troopers, his sudden appearance causing their fingers to hesitate over their triggers. Anger and excitement ran through him. A warzone was where Scoot Felinus thrived. A low growl rolled out of his throat. Sharp pain split his side, and he turned to find a spear jammed into his gut. A legionnaire had managed to slip the thin spearhead into the tiny space between the bands of R.Nano which encased his body and made him nearly indestructible.
"Blades!" the officer shouted. The troopers obeyed. As one they holstered their firearms and drew combat knives.
She jumped back as Scott made a sweeping kick at her legs, and the troopers fell upon him. Their blades glanced off his metallic exterior, none dense enough to penetrate his armored plating. The nanomachines coursing through his blood were the product of a Pale Garden experiment. Dozens of men and women died from the efforts of Project Spaceman, but he and Liam Marcus survived. The nano made them living weapons, and they dedicated their existence to dismantling everything The Pale Garden created. Scott could no longer feel the pain in his side. All he felt was his rage towards the people who had ruined his life.
He rose to his feet under the weight of their attacks as if they were small children, his felarnian strength augmented by the R.Nano made the humans insignificant. Bugs. He threw a trooper across the shaft to crumble against the wall and fall off the mag-lift. He drove his fist into the face of another, buckling her helmet and rendering her unconscious. The pain in his side returned as the legionnaire grabbed the haft of the spear. He snapped the shaft and drew his plasmatic edge, the intense heat and bestial roar of the blade welcomed sensations. For Scott, the green plasma represented home and tradition. For his enemies, it represented death.
Four troopers died in as many strokes, as the lift brought them to the surface. Two kinetic rounds killed the legionnaire as she rallied her troops. Spider advanced, the distance between them covered while Scott fought in the shaft. He fired into the remaining opponents and together they laid waste to the troopers still standing. Atop the hill Hitman strafed the drone factory causing billows of smoke to rise from its armored casing.
"You have something jutting out your side," Spider said. He loaded a fresh clip into his custom pistol with a chuckle.
Scott snarled, and yanked the spear free. Blood sprayed from the wound for only a second before silvery slime poured in and repaired the damage. All professional soldiers utilized military grade Soldier Nano, or S.Nano, but R.Nano operated on a different scope. If the Pale Garden was ever able to duplicate the success of Project Spaceman, the universe would be at the mercy of a nearly unstoppable army.
All along the hillside, teams of Pale Garden units rose out of the ground clad in black flexsteel, troopers bearing white pauldrons and legionnaires bearing magenta. Scott grinned and switched his own clip. As it had been for nearly five standard years, it was them against the seemingly endless arm of Lady Belladonna. The scenario was much like the tales of ancient felarnian warriors told to him by his father during his youth. The only difference was Scott wasn't accompanied by his mate but a human smartass.
Liam was six feet tall, shorter than the average felarnian female, and built like a high-contact sports player. Throw in his lack of fur and Scott found it hard to pretend they were the last survivors of a clan, fighting to reap revenge upon their mortal enemies. Liam or Spider, his old military callsign, had worked hard to build up a network of allies and staff to support their efforts. Paired with Scott's younger sister's ingenious technology, they were becoming a true thorn in the side of The Garden.
The drone factory exploded, and Hitman turned his guns upon the installation's ground forces.
"There's almost double the amount of troops we estimated," Scott remarked.
"I've noticed. What's wrong, you nervous?"
Scott laughed. "Just pointing out how bad your math is."
"You and your sister helped me devise this plan."
"And she said your numbers seemed off."
"She did, didn't she... She's a genius. What'd you expect?"
"I expect you to listen to her advice."
"I did. That's why we brought Hitman."
Scott shrugged. He still wasn't sold on the usefulness of the young pilot.
"We have about forty-five minutes of operation before we exceed Renegade's recommended limit. Let's finish this."
Liam stumbled back as a single shot rang across the battlefield. The pair instinctually fell back behind cover. The right side of Liam's face was a shredded mess, cheekbone exposed to the elements. Silver liquid poured into the gap and resealed his face in bands of armor plating while the nano rebuilt muscle and tissue.
"That had to be twenty-six yield or higher." Liam spat blood into the dirt and cracked his neck. "Hitman, they have snipers near the fencing. Focus your fire on them."
"Almost took your head off."
Scott picked up something small and white off the ground.
"Shit, that tooth won't grow back..."
"Sniper's down, Spider." Hitman's guns could be heard firing on the enemy position. "Heads up, trouble inbound!"
Scott looked to the sky, but danger came from the ground to the south. Spider swore, and moved to a nearby outcropping of rocks. He fired into the dust cloud behind them, and out of it marched a squad of war constructs. Five standard model series 4s lead by two giant series 5s. Humanoid in shape, the heavily armored forms were bulkier than their common counterparts. The fearlessness of a machine with a supercomputer for a brain and the reasoning of a high sentience species.
Felarnians had an innate hatred for combat robots. How could a creature that couldn't feel fear exhibit bravery? How could you fight alongside something that couldn't experience comradery?
Scott took cover as best he could and fired into the advancing enemy formation. The war constructs had armor plating of a grade equal to or higher than that given by Scott's R.Nano. The majority of his rounds would bounce right off. Liam focused his fire on the legs of the lead construct, taxing its armor and finally dropping it to the ground. Unfazed, the machine continued to fire from the ground.
"Fire in the hole!"
Scott ducked and a grenade detonated in the path of the enemy. He rose from cover to find the rest of the series 4s floundering about. Some had survived the explosive with only superficial damage, but all of their uncovered facial displays had been disabled. Those that were still fully combat capable couldn't see or hear.
The fifteen foot giant models were undaunted by the grenade. The first opened up, extending three all-terrain climbing legs and shielding its display with an armored helmet. The second merely charged, its massive rifle slagged by Spider's grenade. It crashed through Scott's cover in a shower of sparks and stone. He rolled away from the machine's kick, its dense metal alloy scraping across his shoulder plating. The construct laughed maniacally and drew out an axe twice Scott's height made of construction metals. Scott ignited his plasmatic edge. Their weapons clashed in a display of light. Scott's hands shook with the effort, but beside him rested the giant smoking axe head. The construct took a cautious step back.
"So you can feel fear," he growled. Low-yield kinetic rounds fired from the hillside struck harmlessly off his back. "Where's our air support!"
"The Mecha will never fear organics," the construct stated. Its display helmet rolled back to reveal a smirking blue low feature facial display or Low-Face.
Rushing footsteps caught Scott's attention and time seemed to slow down. The construct folded in on itself, becoming an armored cube. Scott raised his plasma blade to meet the oncoming attack, but hesitated as Liam tackled him off his feet. The crab-like second construct fired a strange weapon comprising its left arm.
The pair hit the ground, and a howling pulse of distorted light washed over them. Scott's senses reeled, his back aflame. He tried to roll over and the pain was excruciating, worse than anything he'd felt in years. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew his R.Nano should have been soothing the pain and repairing the damage, but those thoughts were being drowned out by the ringing in his ears. Liam pulled him to his feet, sending more pain lancing through his back, then put him over his shoulder. He half dragged, half carried Scott as he fired at the two constructs. Liam's higher yield rounds did a much better job against the armored machines.
"What was that?" Scott groaned.
He couldn't hear Liam's reply, and the edges of his vision were dimming. A mix of blood and silvery nano dripped down his arm. Once more his detached thoughts registered that something had gone wrong. Scott raised his arm. Hunks of his armored plating were gone, skin and fur hung in torn strips. He was dumbfounded. In the years since The Pale Garden had infected him with R.Nano, he'd taken rockets to the chest, and been ground zero in a grenade explosion, but never suffered damage that didn't heal itself in moments.
A shadow loomed overhead, and Liam stopped in his tracks. Scott looked up, expecting another massive war construct. Instead he found a BACK, refurbished and scantilly armored. Shaped like an armless Earth toad, the vehicle had shoulder-mounted ordinance and a front mounted gatling gun. On the walking tank's leg was the Eagle X insignia, paint still wet from when Ivory did touch-ups as they entered the moon's atmosphere. The front gun spun into action, chain fed ammo sliding into the firing chambers. Liam lowered Scott to the ground and fired on approaching trooper squads, their low-yield rounds bouncing off of his armor. An explosion marked the end of the multi-legged war construct as the high-yield BACK rounds made short work of its armor plating.
Spider: Raven is down. Switch to plan B. Ivory, you take care of that last war construct then help me get Raven in there with you. Hitman, clear that hill. Anything moves, you neutralize it.
"I can still fight!" Scott growled, reading the text scroll past his eyes because his hearing was shot.
"Good, Big Cat. Do it from up there," Liam said, pointing up at the BACK cockpit.
Ivory launched a salvo of rockets at the retreating war construct, and the ensuing explosion left behind nothing but slag. Scott pulled away and the pain surged through his shoulders and lower back. The darkness came swiftly and showed no mercy.