Cyber Viking Box Set

by Marcus Sloss

  Morning sunlight showed a pitched battle behind my target. Ogra were getting the best of the surviving demonix.

  New troops arrived from both sides as the battle intensified. The enemy rose from ground, while small groups of Bastion troops flew in via sled.

  I sighted a distracted beast in melee with a female demonix. I unleashed a fully charged round.

  The blue orb was traced back to me by an unseen opponent. White rounds ejected dirt around me as I was targeted.

  My dive back into the remains of AH1 was just in time as my previous position was peppered with fire.

  A quick peek from around the edge of the airframe showed an ogra holding a ruined chest. A demonix stomped through incoming fire directly for me. Her anger firmly on me and not the battle that ensued around her.

  “You shot off my flecking hand!” She shouted, a round smacked into her shield giving her a sense of urgency to find shelter.

  She fled into our cover taking a shot to the calf. Her tumble forced her to crash into me. We flew into the wall and a mounamine squeaked under our weight.

  I glanced down to notice Sammie was bleeding from three large holes in her stomach that the virum were struggling to close. I adjusted to see black goop flee my body for hers. Nancy returned to applying pressure the second the demonix and I shifted off Sammie. I watched the mounamine’s eyes roll into her head as she lost the ability to stay awake.

  I wanted to snatch the demonix’s fully charged weapon but I was missing an arm. Instead I twirled around her to assess Longoria. Her left wing was missing and her lower jaw had melted off. Her eyes told me she was in tremendous amounts of pain but the virum were sealing her wounds and not fleeing the body. That meant both her and Sammie would probably make it. Assuming we did not get blown up.

  “Eric!” Torrez’s voice shouted into my earpiece.

  “Go for six,” I said, taking up a defensive position so I could be ready for the next ogra that wandered into my line of sight.

  “ETA ten minutes, nearby forces playing distract and disengage. What is your -” His voice faded as someone gave him an urgent update “status, over?”

  “Unknown dead, multiple wounded, aircraft down, and sporadic fighting outside. I see an Xgate. I could reach it but the wounded would get left behind,” I said with a muttering. Torrez knew I wouldn’t leave them.

  An ogra rounded to our side of the aircraft seeking cover from blue orbs. Someone had shown up because those rounds were from up high.

  A loud explosion was followed by a swooshing of air. The ogra cheered from in front of me.

  I didn't want to shoot my wad into his or her leg. So I did the rational thing and dove out from cover and into the open.

  The ogra was watching something with excitement, his distraction complete. He cheered as the damage his side was doing to mine. Payback is a bitch.

  I aimed for the head, without ever being noticed. Big Sploosha unleashed a growing angry orb of energy.

  The impact jarred the entire head when it slammed into the ear. The cartilage sizzled before evaporating.

  The round entered the brain and never exited. The ogra tilted my direction, not comprehending it was dead.

  A dashing leap into AH1’s cover with a tucked roll led to me avoiding being squashed.

  The ground quaked when the big beast died. I patiently waited to get my recharge back. The sound of the fighting outside intensified further with a secondary explosion rocking our mangled shelter.

  I heard the clack and snap of projectile weapons joining the fray. That must be the Salt Lake City defenders. They would get slaughtered with Old Earth weapons.

  I raced out of the cockpit to aid my fellow humans. When I neared the edge of the aircraft I was saddened by the sight.

  Red bodies were strewn between us and the location from where the ogra un-burrowed. The humans from Salt Lake had empowered armor but no fancy weapons. Their shielding held besides when they were in melee. They were dying in droves as the ogra were using their long plasma rifles as bats and clubs. Human bodies were being flung like toys and dolls. The sheer might of the ogra was far too much for six foot beings to handle.

  My vision was distracted when I saw five demonix locked in a melee combat with a pair of ogra. The fight was even and I knew I could change that.

  I sprinted across the distance with a full pumping of my legs. I noticed my nub had stopped bleeding, small miracles at least.

  The journey to close the distance lasted half a minute. In melee combat that was a long time. The demonix were stalling the fight with their agility and the bigger ogra saw me coming. I lined up my shot and fired a tiny orb to set the big guy off balance.

  The main fighter tucked into a diving somersault, only too late did he realize I fired something his shields could handle.

  His buddy never saw me. I unloaded a full orb at the other fighter.

  The first yelled to the second who turned in time to see her death.

  My orb splashed through her shield, across her metallic armor, and simmered into the female ogra’s torso.

  She fell to her knees, clutched her chest, and slammed into the dirt in death.

  Demonix piled onto the remaining survivor. Drop ships soared in from the east, the horizon crowded with their arrival. Gatling guns under the aircraft belched orbs from max distance.

  The enemy knew the tide was turning. Their fifty remaining warriors broke combat to retreat into their large tunnels.

  For many, it was simply too late to flee. The dropships moved over the speed of sound and were equipped with weapons far deadlier than I had seen before.

  The bodies of the ogra disintegrated under the withering sustained firepower. The massacre was so thorough those fleeing stopped and tossed arms into the air.

  The dozen or so drop ships turned into hundreds as more units arrived from the north. Even with the majority offering a surrender, a few fights finished to the death.

  If I had to guess the ogra leader was dead or missing because the remaining ogra slumped until they sat on the ground. A drop ship sped to AH1 and slammed into the grass with a rapid landing.

  Infantry spilled out in acrium and shielded power packs. There were no tanks or mech suits that unloaded. With the lull in the fighting I assessed the situation.

  A single ruined tank and the shredded remains of what had to be AH2 were littered across a field to the south.

  How I had missed seeing the destruction? This would explain the loud explosions I had heard while I had been fighting. I checked to see who was on that ship.

  That was Slister’s unit. When I went to check her status I saw her Gpad was flat lined. Fuck.

  My sprint to the wreckage was a wasted effort. The dead were scattered, intermingled with the strewn wreckage of the tank and animal hauler.

  The aircraft were not meant for sustained combat and I knew that. Today was supposed to fix that. Today they were supposed to be retired. Yet here both AH1 and AH2 were crumpled, dead from combat. I had relied on their shielding and been warned they were not birds of war. Yet, they were all I had, and this was never supposed to happen. This cause and effect was the exact nature of true combat. I sighed at the loss of life I was responsible for.

  I went to find Slister’s Gpad and saw it was on her mangled arm. A heavy section of TG99 covered her body.

  I bent down until I found her torso. I knew it was her from her hair. Nothing else was really recognizable from the results of the tank’s destruction.

  I checked the battle tally. Ninety six dead. A ninety-six became seven and back to six. I saw Sammie was flat lining. My sprint was brief as Torrez landed a proper dropship in front of me.

  “I need to get to Sammie,” I shouted, waving my weapon to get him to lift off.

  Torrez hopped out of a side hatch and pointed to the remains of AH1. “Look and calm my friend. Calm,” Torrez said, batting his hands down to soothe me.

  A white dropship with a red cross on its side was already lifting off. Th
e Gpad showed Sammie had stabilized and her Gpad was leaving my proximity. I let out a relieved breath. I knew there was nothing I could do at this point. My rational commander mind took over. There would be no crying, or screaming in angst. I had to move forward.

  Well, there was the issue of the ogra. I saw an octosuit approach and Mclain hopped out.

  “Here ya go, Cap. Have fun negotiating… Holy fuck! You lost your arm,” Mclain shouted, while trying to indicate my arm had suddenly vanished.

  “Again,” Torrez said. “Third time's a charm it seems.”

  “You know, it doesn’t hurt.” My shrugged comment was met by wincing from the both of them. “I am grabbing this unit,” I said hopping into the octosuit. “Get in another and meet me at the surrendered clump over there. Torrez ready the aircraft for extraction. I will be heading home soon.”

  Big Sploosha was secured to my back as I headed into the mechanized unit. When I got inside the door, I removed my gear. A powerful magnet sucked my weapon and shield generator to the wall. There was no seat in here, and I stepped to the middle of the unit with my legs shoulder width apart and my good arm facing forward.

  The interior shrunk around my form sealing me into the machine. My mind-melded into a simple interface. The controls were basic, and as if by magic, I could feel my lost arm. I stepped forward and my eight legs walked across the landscape. The pace felt natural but I knew I was slow.

  My walk carried me up a slight incline where the enemy was being corralled into a cluster. Their weapons were discarded into a pile, their armor placed on a sled, and the contracts were already being sent to me through a proxy. A thousand years, three meals a day, a place to sleep, and clean water. Work was fourteen point three hours a day.

  My study of the foe was disrupted when icrian by hundreds poured out of the ground. They were shielding their eyes with both hands at the bright morning light. I saw they carried meager possessions. A few brought out trunks but for the most part these were a nomadic species used to having very little.

  When they reached their defeated protectors they sought shade that the large ogra cast with their shadows.

  My mind was numb to the fact I had lost another family member. Slister had served for years with me… I… I was not happy.

  When I reached the group I waited. A stream of young ogra were joining the group of warriors now, same with the community caretakers.

  How the hell did the Salt Lake people not know there was an army under their feet? The fact not only boggled my mind but left me reeling from the implications. Were we set up? Did they know all along they were sending us into a pitched battle?

  They did however join the fight to some extent. Without proper weapons to boot. And they died trying to help. I sighed knowing it would not bring the dead back to life.

  “Which of you is in charge?” I asked and as one they pointed to me.

  Good, at least they knew that answer. I walked to a big warrior with a nasty scar running down his cheek.

  “What was the plan?” I asked scarred face.

  The ogra pointed to his large chest and aimed a weapon at him to confirm I wanted him to answer.

  “Tribe leader Krad was in charge. He died over there,” the ogra said pointing for AH1. Probably my ear victim, he was super focused on the battle instead of his immediate surroundings. “We arrived during the last blue portal, the icrian created a tunnel that led to a cavern. We escaped our former allies that were hounding us on our planet. We needed to wait for this golden portal time to reset and then we could conquer the weak humans above us.”

  “Ah, so happenstance,” I muttered but the octosuits projectors broadcast my words loudly.

  “Excuse me, my lord. I do not understand,” the ogra said and I ignored him.

  Time to call my allies. I dialed Daxstar and it went straight to a voicemail.

  “You have reached Daxstar the superb, genius of Earth, and savior of the meek. Please leave a mess -”

  There was no tone or anything. That asshat. If I wasn’t in such a shitty mood I would be laughing. An incoming call rang. Ah, I guess he saw my call.

  “I need you to come home. I have completed the regeneration chambers for humans. If you rush now I can regrow your arm in time for your wedding,” Daxstar said on voice only comms.

  “What should I do about -”

  “The ogra and the icrian? Nothing, they are not virum compatible but that doesn’t mean they can't live a great life here in servitude. That is a moral dilemma for you to solve. You will never free them as both have no home to go to. Only sell them to into servitude elsewhere or use them here,” Daxstar said. “Hey, I got to go. Sammie is five minutes out and I am tweaking a revival chamber to hopefully keep her alive.”

  “Hopefully?” I asked hesitantly.

  “I am a scientist, not a god. I need to go, bye.”

  And like that, the call was over. I gazed down upon the defeated foes. Mclain trooped over to me in a new octosuit.

  I waited until he was close to say, “Hey, I need a recon of the tunnels. I am not trusting anyone these days. I also probably should go grow a new arm, I guess. My cybernetic was awesome, not sure if I want a real one back.”

  “Uh… So you need me to clean out the underground and then what?” Mclain asked seeking orders instead of my ramblings.

  I was not sure what to reply with. My weapon went back to the ogra. “Should I sell you or force you to work until your contracts are over?”

  “Ogra do not work, we fight. The little ones work,” the ogra said and that solved my problem.

  I sent a note to Perci with the contracts for the ogra. Sell them and buy some virum species to replace our dead. “Mclain when you're done, load up the little mole people. They’re called icrian and do good mining work. Keep the ogra under guard until they are sucked into the Xgate Perci is managing.”

  “Sir, yes Sir.”

  I left him to carry out his work so I could fly home. Torrez even rotated the drop ship for me so I could walk right up the ramp with ease. I was going home as a despondent man. The night and early morning were a rollercoaster of emotion.

  When the aircraft left the ground with me firmly in the hangar bay; I closed my eyes to remember Slister’s face. Another in a long list of those I would try to never forget. If only life got easier. That would be marvelous indeed. I was looking forward to getting married and settling down.

  CHAPTER 10

  “Daxstar, you gotta be shitting me,” I said with contempt.

  The owl hooted at my displeasure and replied, “Don’t be a pussy. Wear the helmet and get in.”

  I seethed at his comments. He saw the violence in my eyes and vacated the room before I could do more than grumble.

  I was stuck standing there with a hard decision to make. There was a vat off to my right and a door to my left. You would think the choice was simple. Regrow a new arm or leave and plead for a cybernetic.

  The issue actually was about the process. Inside the regrowth vat, there was a red goop. So what I thought at first glance. Until a closer inspection revealed it was literally dead body parts with worm-like beings slithering inside it.

  Which led to me learning they were programmed biotics, a hybrid of sorts, and they would do exactly what I needed. They would mesh my arm back together layer by layer. The process was mundane and took hours. Hours of rebuilding while lying in mushed muscles, blood, and bone.

  There was no asking for some awesome futuristic device that would use a paste and regrow my arm. Or a machine that would use cool lasers in an odd alien way to graft a limb for me.

  That would take months to set up and why would I bother with the issue, we had priorities that went beyond fancy tech to replace gross situations. You could buy a regrowth vat for cheap and it was readily usable for just about every species. A finger could be handled by the virum, an arm was simply too much to steal from one spot to provide for another.

  Knowing what I had to do I grunted and donned the clear helmet.<
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  “Thank you, Eric,” Longoria said from a transmission box in a robotic voice. She was in a vat beside mine. Her helmet only went to her nose as her face and wings were being rebuilt. She typed me a note quickly. “They would want this. To have you whole again for your wedding.”

  “Part of me will miss the enhancement. In the end, I am human, not a cyborg so fuck it,” I said with a running leap to vault into the vat. Time froze.

  Wait, no it didn’t. Those little worms still slithered inside the gore. My body had magically slowed robbing me of the joy of splashing gore over this evil science lab. I settled slowly into the slimy warm nastiness. “Damnit Daxstar how did -”

  And my voice box turned off. I sank into the pit of bodily remains, my string of complaints going unheard.

  Worms traced my body, hungry to get to work. I felt my nub flare in pain forcing me to scream into the helmet as I tried to manage the torment. A few moments later there was a numbing effect.

  The process involving dead parts being used to convert my arm commenced without my input. There was only mild fascination from watching worms with centipede-like arms melting gore to my nub with tools. The tedious work became repetitive and after a few minutes before I grew bored.

  My Gpad had numerous alerts for requests. Now was the perfect time to deal with backburner issues. I wondered where that saying came from when I opened the first notice.

  Gary asked for a week off. His marriage was on the rocks from overworking and now… There was no work for him to do. That was a gut punch. We had been so desperate for housing for so long. Also, I bet more people who realized they had eternity together were going to get divorced as time progressed. Gary had been old with kids in college. He and his wife had been through a lot. Now they were young, vibrant, and had no need to be attached.

  I approved leave for everyone who requested it, contingent on the fact it was temporary. If we needed to fix an urgent need we would. I fired a note over to Perci, adding two days of leave going forward for all employees per month. Give everyone a bonus week to start. I felt it was the right thing to do.