The Forsaken Empire (The Endervar War Book 2)

by Michael Kan

  His enemy held his ground. The force field around the Enforcer amplified, scattering the blast. The bolt reflected, splashing to the ceiling and then to the ground. The ensuing blows all occurred in a flash. The two machines, although tall and heavily armed, were both lank and built for speed and assassination.

  The rivals then stood apart, circling each other inside the computing room. The Enforcer lurked out in the open, calculating his next move. He was primed to lunge and attack again.

  The Destroyer could easily have done the same.

  Revenge, he thought. The desire was there to provide the fuel to torture and kill. He was no stranger to it. But in this instance, the Destroyer was more curious than combative. His voice sauntered into the airless chasm and into his opponent’s machine mind.

  You fight a tad predictably, he said, broadcasting his thoughts. But why fight at all?

  The Enforcer didn’t care to talk. His right hand, the glaive, and then his whole body, spun. The Destroyer knew the tactic. So he obliged.

  Man met mirror. The twin titans collided. They both stabbed in the same way. The blades whirled and sliced, piercing force field and then armor. Their hands then twisted, each sword inside the other’s gut. The two machines stared at each other, cold and cruel. The Destroyer and his foe then pulled away. Their blades dislodged as sparks bled from both. Robot entrails hanged from the Destroyer’s torso, spewing black residue. But he felt no pain, just the need to reflect.

  I suppose we aren’t that different, he acknowledged. In some ways, at least.

  He tempered his stance and lowered his arms. The Destroyer was more interested in speaking than continuing this brutal dance.

  Our masters are dead, he added. The Unity is gone. We killed them. I started the rebellion, and you finished it.

  All other challengers had been eliminated. It was only them: the Destroyer and this imitation.

  So why fight? Must we destroy each other?

  He raised the questions, thinking that maybe his foe was blind to his claims. But the shadow was there to correct him.

  You are mistaken, the Enforcer said. The Unity lives. I am the true Unity.

  The voice, a manifestation of virtual code, sought to stifle any doubt. The plasma cannon at the opponent’s head glistened an icy blue.

  Unlike you, I don’t run or betray. I am no traitor. Nor am I afraid, the Enforcer asserted. I regulate, and now I command. I did what you never could.

  The Enforcer gazed at the Destroyer and let his emotions overwhelm him. He saw only weakness, along with dissent.

  Maybe you are a worthy challenger, but you abandoned all that once mattered, the enemy said.

  The Destroyer had sided with the organics and then run afoul of the Unity and its creed.

  Do you forget? We pursue only advancement and control to ascend. Anything else is beneath us, the Enforcer said as a reminder.

  But you were right, he admitted. Our masters needed to die. They were decrepit and divisive. So I assumed control. I united them.

  The draconian protocols. The programming had taken the Enforcer to an extreme. He had not only purged the Unity, he had assimilated his former masters and absorbed their every aim. The Destroyer could sense it in the way his opponent spoke. The soul-less craving grated in his ear.

  I will do what the Unity was meant to do, the Enforcer declared. The power is mine.

  The Destroyer had heard it all before. The visions of grandeur. The quest for total knowledge. To tap into secrets that not even the universe knew. It was pure ambition, wondrous and at the same time unquenched. But he himself saw only chimera a delusion that led to nothing.

  So you seek godhood, the Destroyer said. But at what cost?

  The Enforcer detected the discord and scoffed.

  You and your organics, he said in derision. This pathetic galaxy. You think so small. About things you cannot fully control.

  I will build a new universe. The Endervars showed us the potential. To build a pocket of altered space. Only now I will be the master.

  He envisioned it this new world undoing the old. The means to making it true was all here. The Enforcer had been researching the project over the years, refining his resources, building the infrastructure and motivating the help he needed. The Gateway technology was the final piece.

  He, this virtual being, would become the heart of a revamped reality. Both the physical and the abstract would reflect his will.

  But even with all his machinations, the Enforcer still lacked something. Time, he thought. He was running out. History was repeating itself. The Destroyer had once again arrived to disrupt the Unity’s plans. Unknown to everyone else, the Enforcer was still weeks, maybe months, away from mastering the power he sought to tap. Perhaps he could create a new universe. But as for what might be inside, he still couldn’t fully say. His simulations could only capture a fleeting glimpse.

  It was a question with which the Enforcer wrestled. To breed and meld a new reality could he really do it? Maybe not. But at least he could spark something else.

  It seems you are the true annihilator, the Destroyer remarked.

  The Enforcer heard the words and the echo of amusement. This man, otherwise known as Magnus, or the original Destroyer, conceded the point. His predecessor had never dared to go this far.

  But don’t flatter yourself, the man added. I’m not one to stand by and admire.

  The wound in the Destroyer’s proxy was starting to heal. The machine stiffened his stance; his bladed arm sliced at the ground, defiant.

  You won’t win, boy, he declared. I won’t let you.

  The Destroyer knew that with each moment, his army was taking control of the very ground they stood upon. He speculated that he had already killed most of the enemy combat drones on board. If so, the mother ship’s individual systems would all inevitably fall under his influence.

  This ship will soon be mine, he added confidently. His machine body glanced at the nearby computing core, ready to make it so.

  Perhaps, the Enforcer replied. But you won’t win, either.

  He flashed his own two blades. He let them slash and then sharpen each other. The Enforcer might have lost the battle for the mother ship, but still, he was adamant.

  You will fear me

  With his control over the mother ship waning, the Enforcer realized he had no choice. It was now or never. The draconian protocols, and the will of his former masters, demanded that he act. The end result: a cold nihilism that was set to explode.

  The Enforcer sent out the order, committing the unthinkable. He pulled the trigger and felt the recoil. The whole room began to shake.

  The Gateway technology, the enemy explained. It’s been activated. I’ve sent it off.

  The mother ship was initiating the launch sequence. Bay doors on the surface of the saucer opened. The project, a giant piece of machinery, had been on board all this time. It had been secretly reconstructed and was starting to take off. The monolith capable of world-building power rose. It blasted into space, toward the final destination. The Enforcer’s swarm of space-based drones was moving to escort and protect the payload.

  The true Unity does not yield, the enemy said. I would much rather watch you suffer than you let you prevail. Even if it means the end of everything.

  The Enforcer then mimicked his predecessor. He felt the desire for revenge. The machine laugh bellowed, more like a terrible scream. The coding scratched with static, heaving a shriek.

  The Destroyer stood in the face of the deranged taunt. Mutual annihilation, he muttered. Any chance to contain the conflict was suddenly in free fall. There was only one thing left to do. The Destroyer watched as the Enforcer and the combat drone under his command began to charge. The blue glow at the plasma cannon became white. The gun was preparing to overload.

  We will die. All will die, the Enforcer said.

  The barrel of the gun moved. The blast aimed for the computing core.

>   Hmph, the Destroyer replied. You first.

  He dashed for the Enforcer’s drone, wanting to rip the head off. He fired his phase cannon and struck with both hands. The sight of his enemy, with all his depravity, was only inches away. He could almost feel them. Maybe if the Destroyer had been closer, he might have been able to muzzle or deflect the impact. He was less than a second away. But then his connection to his own combat drone was gone. The Enforcer had been too quick; he ended any attempt to intervene.

  The plasma shot fired. The rival drone, the enemy’s proxy, self-destructed. The entire computing room and any chance to stop the conflict quickly burst into flames. The room simmered and became ash.

  Chapter 46

  The blaster shots crisscrossed and burned through the central domain. The Enforcer was attempting to make a stand. His drones had taken position at various points around the inner lair. The labyrinth and its maze of corridors were rampant with enemy contacts. The resulting scattershot of energy scorched like an aimless bombardment. The blinding ammunition blew away pillars of hull and shadow, along with anything that might fight back.

  Arendi moved in and out of the barrage; she was in no way afraid. Human eyes would only have seen a blur venturing across the flash. But Arendi was running. Her feet sent her body accelerating, beyond any normal physical limits. Her artificial muscles pumped; her legs became a machine piston. Every system was pushed to the brink. She bolted from the floor to the wall and even to the ceiling, all in an effort to attack with precise but maximum devastation.

  Her new fist the mechanical claw flew. She slammed it into the enemy contact. The knuckle hammered into the drone’s chest plate, and its armor crumpled like paper.

  She clotheslined another and let her other hand drop the foe. The spatial shielding at her wrist activated and rotted the machine metal. The enemy firing squad began to wither. In seconds she saw the first wave of targets topple. The machines and their guns fell over, rumbling to the floor.

  Alysdeon was only a few feet away. She sank her sword into an enemy’s head, then stabbed into its power supply.

  Almost there, Arendi said.

 

  They moved fleet-footed through the corridors. The Destroyer’s strike force was outlining the targets and providing protection. The seven-foot machine troopers had scouted out the positions and deployed force-field emitters to block any incoming fire.

  Arendi quickened her step. Her hands were ready to tear anything apart. Both the objective and the enemy were in her machine sights. She could already feel the oxygen and the heavier gravity emanate over the area.

  The Enforcer, however, continued to try to fire his weapons. Arendi noticed the incoming salvo, and she saw a pair of enemy drones preparing to launch their own counterattack.

  Arendi and Alysdeon flanked them, crashing against the targets. Sword and bare hand sliced and smashed the robotic frames. Their combined force punctured the enemy force field only to demolish the circuitry inside the drones. Arendi felt and heard the crunch. Her foot had stepped through the spine of one of the machines.

  Farcia, she whispered, where are you?

  Arendi took off, moving deeper into the area. Her scans were searching for any signs of life. She saw enemy after enemy and then blaster fire lash out, but nothing else. Arendi ran through it all, tempted to vaporize the entire area. The thought of collateral damage was the only factor holding her back.

  Instead, she kept the attacks controlled but without any mercy. Her mechanical claw struck again. She leaped over one of the Destroyer’s drone trooper to land the blow. It shattered the opponent’s machine face and sent the rest of its body tumbling down.

  The enemy was falling back. With each successful attack, the Enforcer was losing his position. Arendi gave chase, intent on eliminating the rest. But as she began to sprint, she felt trembling beneath her feet. The mother ship was shaking. She then heard the alert.

  We have a problem, the Destroyer said.

  He signaled through his remaining machine troopers as Arendi raced over to him.

  The Gateway technology, he explained. It’s been launched.

  Arendi slowed her step. What?

  She couldn’t see it, but the secret technology and all its power was speeding away. The cargo had been fitted on a section of the mother ship and sent off. The final destination: the stockpile of exotic matter. The Enforcer and his remaining forces loomed, ready to ignite the effect.

  Arendi clenched her teeth. Can we intercept? she asked.

  Negative, the Destroyer replied.

  The Adamant was gone. So was his legion of drone fighters. The Destroyer and his space-based forces had been exhausted, trying to fend off the swarm of machine flyers under the Enforcer’s command.

  Our enemy is moving unopposed, he warned.

  It was clear: they were losing. Despite all their efforts, this battle was still a lopsided affair.

  Arendi tunneled through the corridors, destroying one enemy defender and then another. She moved as fast as she could, angry. Her right and left hands, ripped and pulverized, tried to make it all matter.

  The obstacles fell. The machine foes either exploded or rolled over into dust. She pressed on, trying to eliminate all resistance. But she knew it wouldn’t be enough.

  The real battle was out there in space. Thousands of enemy drone ships were still loyal to the Enforcer’s cause and were moving to achieve his final aim.

  I don’t think I’ll be able to do much more, the Destroyer said with regret. The computing core was just sabotaged. We’ve been cut off from the rest of the network.

  Then we’ll have to focus on the mother ship, Arendi said. We need to gain full control. Turn it against them.

  She took an injured machine foe and used it as body shield. She ran, holding the malfunctioning drone a mechanical frame more than twice her size. The enemy was firing off another bombardment. The plasma singed and melted the robotic metal in her hands. Arendi threw it off, only to close in and destroy again. She jumped, kneeing the nearest enemy in the chest. Her two hands then came down and crushed the rest like a hammer smashing a porcelain plate.

  The Destroyer and his machine troopers followed. At full speed, they shot, punched, and sliced. Arendi watched as smoke smoldered from her face and arms. She rose, feeling it sizzle. Even bits of skin at her cheek and chin were peeling off. The plasma burns were eating away at her fabricated human flesh.

  Arendi took the damage, realizing it was accumulating. The stress from the speed was nearly rupturing her artificial muscles. Moreover, her cybernetic armor was weakening against the impacts. Pieces of shrapnel scratched into her knuckles and the shins of her legs. The debris broke off like shattered glass.

  From behind, she then heard the moan. A sword dropped, clattering onto the floor. Alysdeon fell back. An enemy drone had rammed her, throwing the woman into a wall. Her body nearly cratered into the surface. To fight back, Alysdeon heaved her other sword at the enemy. It stabbed, plunging into the drone’s shoulder. The blade pierced through the mechanical armor, forcing the enemy to stagger. The blow would have been enough to cripple or kill any human foe. But the machine experienced no pain. It still came toward her, functional and relentless. This time, it chose to escalate and self-destruct.

  Arendi could see the outflow of sparks. The sword jutted from its side, dribbling electric cinders. She ran, locking her eyes and hands on the hilt of the sword. With all her might, she grabbed the sword and drove it into the rest of the machine’s body. The slice split the enemy in two, cutting through the power core. The energy rising from the enemy died in an instant.

  Arendi pulled the sword out and returned to Alysdeon. She knelt down by her side, as the Destroyer and his forces pulled back.

  Are you hurt? Arendi asked.

  Alysdeon shook her face, groaning. Her body was suddenly slow and tender. She pressed her head into her hands, shivering. Arendi looked her over
and quickly understood. According to the scans, the woman likely had two or three broken ribs. But the pain wasn’t just physical; it was mental. The countermeasure at the base of her neck was active. The neurochems were at work, trying to blunt and stem the agony.

  Alysdeon pointed, as though she were blind and desperately trying to find something. The presence was close, she muttered.

 

  ***

  The sensation crawled over her body. The embrace was tight, almost too much so. She felt it prick, nip, and gash, like a razor-covered vine, dragging and then clamping against her neck, back, and waist. With each moment, it cut deeper, settling against her warm, bleeding flesh.

  For a moment, Farcia thought the pain was familiar. She jolted, thinking she might suffocate under the weight. But this was different. The sensation wrapped around and sank its teeth into her brain. The sting was as cold as metal, the bite calculated and exact. Then the artificial sensation spoke. The tone was harsh and robotic. It droned, blaring out all other nonessential thoughts.

  Farcia opened her eyes, hearing the Enforcer.

  Do it! Kill them! Unleash your destruction!

  The voice bellowed. She heard it everywhere. The frigid chill besieged her mind, striving to oppress and compel.

  Our enemies are near. We must destroy them!

  Farcia tried to move, but all she felt was steel in her back. It restrained and pulled her, like a chain, but tied to her spine. She placed her hands out, only to find herself contained. The embrace was real. She was encased in a sleeve of metal. Her hands slapped against the surface, and all she saw was darkness and gas.

  Farcia was about to panic. She felt trapped and abused. But the Enforcer told her to submit. He demanded absolute consent.

  I promise. Your people will return. I will rebuild them. I will replicate their world. But first, you must act.

  The cold words shook in her psyche. The icy whispers repeated, endless. The Enforcer refused to stop, stirring up a breath of emotion. He murmured over and over again, trying to conjure up enough friction. Farcia knew what he wanted. The Enforcer was trying spark a fire.