by M. D. Cooper
Leslie didn’t reply right off.
The lift slowed to a stop at floor four-eighty-five, and the doors slid open to reveal an empty hall. Rika stepped out first and unslung her AC9CR.
Rika wondered about that statement. Though Leslie often portrayed a carefree exterior, and rarely spoke of her past, there was a deepness to the woman. Something borne of a past that Rika suspected was troubled long before the Nietzschean war broke out.
Neither spoke further as they traversed the level, heading toward the stairwell on the far side. Since the other staircase was a secondary access route, it was less likely that it would be patrolled by humans, and the ISF tech would allow the two women to slip past any automated sensors the Niets would have deployed.
Several of the rooms they passed contained Nietzschean officers and chiefs of varying rank clustered around holotanks and planning tables. Few were in the halls, and those were easily avoided.
Every one of them looked worried.
Good.
When Rika and Leslie reached the secondary staircase, Niki bid them halt while she deployed nanoprobes, checking for additional security.
Rika slipped in first. Though Leslie was the better scout, if they hit significant opposition, they were going to want a mech’s heavier guns at the fore.
The stairs were steel, and Rika stepped lightly to avoid any sound. Though the ISF’s stealth tech would dampen the noise, she didn’t want to take risks when they were this close to their prey.
After two minutes, they reached the four hundred and ninetieth floor, and Rika saw a bored looking guard standing next to the door. There didn’t appear to be any active scanning systems present, so Rika stepped right past him and moved onto the next flight.
The moment her right foot met the third step, she felt the slightest amount of give.
Behind her, the guard’s head snapped up, and he muttered a curse before unslinging his rifle and moving toward Rika’s position.
Leslie said, and a moment later, the man’s head twisted at an unnatural angle, a sickening crunch filling the stairwell.
Rika waited for Niki to give a green-light on the rest of the stairs, and then proceeded to climb them as quickly as possible. Chances were that even if Niki managed to hijack the dead guard’s Link before someone came to check the stairwell out, a visual inspection would still have been ordered.
At least it’d better. If I were running security here, and no one checked an alarm while the city was under attack, heads would roll.
She’d just climbed past the four hundred and ninety fifth floor when Niki signaled that she’d sent the all-clear. The message came a moment before the sound of a rifle firing from below.
Rika wanted to admonish Leslie further for her blasé attitude, but knew that the scout was just trying to help Rika stay focused on the objective: take out the Nietzschean leadership, and force the rest of the enemy to surrender and cease the slaughter of civilians.
There was no guarantee it would work, but even if it was only partially effective in getting some of the Nietzschean field commanders to stand down, it would be worthwhile.
With her objectives firmly in mind, Rika kept moving as quickly and as silently up the stairs as she could. When she rounded the landing below the five hundredth floor, she could see a security arch at the top of the next flight.
The sound of weapons fire came from below, and Rika shook her head.
Two guards were stationed on either side of the door that stood beyond the security arch. The stairwell ended at level five hundred—which meant access to the top floor was somewhere beyond the pair of Niets guarding the door.
To her surprise, the projectiles didn’t penetrate either guard’s faceshield. She toggled the GNR to fire an electron beam, getting a shot off at the guard on the right—burning a hole clear through his head—before the other Nietzschean had recovered and opened fire on her.
The machine began to wail as it detected her motion.
She came down next to the remaining enemy, and activated the lightwand built into her left wrist. The Nietzschean didn’t have time to react, and his head fell from his shoulders half a second later.
Rika kicked open the door and strode into the hallway beyond, firing her GNR at a pair of lightly armored Nietzscheans rushing toward her.
The weapon was still on its electron beam setting, and the shots burned holes clear through the torsos of the two lightly armored soldiers.
Rika barely spared them a second glance as she dashed down the corridor, angling toward the center of the level, where she suspected the stairs to the top floor would be.
All around her were the trappings of luxury. Some of it looked to have been there since before the Nietzscheans took up residence in the building, but other items—mostly the art and a few pieces of furniture—didn’t fit the overall décor, and Rika suspected they were the spoils of war and later corruption.
Behind her, the report of Leslie’s rifle sounded again, followed by the dull thud of her mines detonating.
Rounding a corner, she caught sight of a foyer with a broad staircase that swept up to the next floor, splitting at the halfway mark and curving to either side.
At the base of the stairs were two heavy mech frames, their four-meter-tall bulk almost more than could fit in the space. They were flanked by soldiers who were clustered around crew-served railguns, and protected by grav shields.
Rika’s stealth effecti
veness read at ninety-five percent, and she judged that as good enough to move into the open area at the staircase’s base.
All of the Niets—twenty-seven, counting the pair inside the mech frames—were on alert, heads swiveling as they watched the room and the approaches—including the one Rika was easing through. She knew this to be the point where they were most likely to detect her, and was almost clear, when one of the soldiers cocked his head, and then fired a round directly at her.
The bullet ricocheted off her body, causing no harm. But in the following moment, all hell broke loose.
Rika leapt into the air as rail-fired slugs streaked through the space where her body had been seconds before. Her left hand fired rail shots from her AC9CR rifle while she sprayed ballistic rounds from her GNR at the nearest Niets.
The moment her feet touched the floor, she ceased firing and flung herself to the right, narrowly avoiding a spray of slugs from one of the Goon-Mech’s chainguns.
As she sailed through the air, everything seemed to slow down, and a calm certainty came over her. There is nothing these Nietzscheans can do to stop me. I am their death.
It would be easy.
She lobbed a pair of smart grenades at the wall to the right of the stairs, angling them above the enemy’s grav shields. The small balls of death bounced off the wall and headed straight for the crew-served weapon. She didn’t watch to ensure they hit, trusting the ‘nades to detonate once they attached to the gun.
Her focus was on the two heavies. The one on the left was advancing, conveniently blocking the left-side crew-served weapon, while the one on the right contented itself with spraying more rounds into the open space.
Rika took a moment to wonder if there were other Niets working elsewhere on this level. As best she could tell, the weaponry being fired at her would chew clear through the building—and anyone in their path—in short order.
Good thing we’re near the top, she thought. Otherwise these idiots would bring the whole building down.
A moment later, the grenades went off, the grav shields containing the blast and flinging the nearby Niets about like rag dolls.
Rika used the moment of distraction to rush the right-hand heavy. Her DPU sabot rounds could penetrate the metal monsters, but there wasn’t enough range in the foyer to fire them, and she wanted to save the charges on her electron beam for whatever may come next.
I’ll do these bastards up close and personal.
The GM must have spotted her movement—likely from disturbances in the smoke that was starting to fill the room—because it jerked its chaingun toward her.
Rika would have thanked the mech’s operator if she’d had the chance. The weapon mount made for the perfect landing place, and she clamped on with both feet, bending three of the barrels and fouling the weapon.
At the same time, she dropped her AC9CR back onto the hook on her back and ignited her lightwand, driving it into the main body of the thing, sinking the blade down to the hilt.
With the hole torn into the operator’s pod, she disabled her lightwand and pulled her AC9CR free—briefly considering getting another set of arms—and fired on a pair of Nietzscheans rushing down the stairs, while her right foot pulled free of the gun mount and grabbed another grenade from the pouch at her waist, driving it into the hole that her lightwand had hewn.
She ran across the heavy as it scrabbled at itself, trying to knock the grenade free. She landed on the second GM, ducking behind its bulk as the grenade inside the first one detonated. Her GNR snapped three times, ballistic rounds firing into the greatly-widened opening on the first GM.
The second heavy spun around, attempting to fling her off, its movements making it impossible for the Niets operating the left-side crew-served weapon to fire on her, for fear of striking their comrade.
Rika grabbed another pair of smart grenades and set them to hit the Niets furthest from the shielded gun. The heavy swung an arm up at Rika, and she narrowly avoided getting a chaingun to the head.
The grenades detonated, and she kicked off the flailing beast to sail over the grav shield and land directly behind the crew-served railgun.
One slash with her lightwand, and the operator was dead. She locked one foot onto the gun’s floor mount, and then slammed the other foot into the Niet managing the ammo. She clamped her three claws around his neck and twisted, breaking the woman’s fragile bones before flinging her body at her comrades.
In the time it took to kill the two Nietzscheans, Niki had breached the simple biolock on the railgun, and Rika let out a primal scream as she fired it at the remaining heavy, tearing its limbs off before finally penetrating its armored body and killing the human inside.
A moment later, something struck her side, and she saw one of the Nietzscheans near the stairs firing a small-mass coilgun at her.
With a flick of her wrist, a smart grenade was sent sailing through the air to land on the soldier’s chest. A guttural cry escaped the Niet before the top of his body exploded in a bloody spray.
Two of the soldiers on the far side of the stairs had disentangled themselves from their comrades, and were running past the now-flickering grav shield toward one of the exits. Rika didn’t hesitate before gunning them down, not willing to risk the enemies regrouping with more of their scumbag friends and attacking anew.
On her right, two of the Nietzscheans who had witnessed her callous action opened fire—one with a heavy caliber slug thrower, and the other with a beam rifle.
Rika twisted to the side, spinning the crew-served railgun on its mount to point at the pair, firing the last of the rounds in its current string of ammo at the Niets, and tearing their bodies apart.
When the railgun’s whine died down, a stillness fell on the foyer. Rika stepped out, around the grav shield, watching for any signs of life in the twisted wreckage of human and machine before her, nodding in satisfaction.
Easy.
Her stealth effectiveness was down to fifty percent, her armor dented and scored from the rounds that had struck her. She deactivated it; from here out, she wanted the enemy to see her coming.
Rika laughed at the scout’s joke.
Rika chuckled to herself, checking her AC9CR’s charge and swapping its nearly spent rail-pellet magazine. Satisfied that the rifle was ready to rock, she checked her GNR for damage, ensuring that the firing modes were all functional.
Niki had already sent a passel of nanoprobes up the stairs, revealing a squad of Nietzscheans who had taken up positions in the hallway on the left-hand branch of the staircase. The top floor’s halls curved, so she knew that both paths would lead her to her quarry. She took the right-hand staircase, not feeling the least bit of guilt over hitting the enemy in the rear.
Striding up the stairs and into the corridor like she hadn’t a care in the world, she resisted whistling a tune.
Killing Nietzscheans was her business, and business was good.
LAST STAND
STELLAR DATE: 10.12.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Nietzschean System Command, Memphis, Kansas
REGION: Blue Ridge System, Old Genevia, Nietzschean Empire
Admiral Gideon tensed as the sound of weapons fire ceased. He glanced at the master sergeant next to the door.
“No one’s in the corridor yet, sir,” the man said, beads of sweat visible on his brow.
Gideon nodded silently, not blaming the sergeant for his nerves. They’d all watched the feeds from the base of the stair
case.
The enemy they faced had impressive stealth gear, but as the fight progressed—all thirty-nine seconds of it—it became clear that the destruction was caused by a single attacker.
One of the Genevian human-hybrid mechs.
“What was that?” Decoteau asked a moment later. “It didn’t look like a model I’ve seen before.”
“An SMI of some sort,” Sofia replied from her position behind a holotable, rifle held ready. “But different than any I’ve seen before. Faster, and that electron blade in her arm…”
“Just one…” a major on the far side of the room whispered. “What are we going to do?”
“Stow your shit,” Sofia growled. “She’s not invincible, and she took a lot of hits down there. Plus, we have our countermeasures ready. They should be sufficient.”
Gideon wasn’t convinced that Sofia’s plan would work, and was wondering if it was too late to make a break for the express elevator at the far end of the corridor. The small voice in the back of his head was driving home the regret he felt for not taking Sofia’s advice earlier. The bunker on the northern edge of the city was looking very inviting right then.
The staccato rhythm of kinetic rifles firing broke the silence outside the room, and was punctuated by a scream, then a shriek and some crying.
He doubted it was coming from the mech.
Seven long seconds later, a lightwand slashed through the door, cutting away the lock.
Gideon swallowed. Being the bait had seemed like the right call five minutes ago when Sofia proposed this plan. He’d felt strong and in control, an inspiration to those around him—he’d also been convinced that the attacker wouldn’t make it past the defenses on the stairs.