Nemesis (The MechaVerse Trilogy Book 2)

by Jeremy Cunkle

  A steady cacophony of explosions rolled across the plain with enough force that it announced to every human civilization and colonized world that the end of tyranny was nearing.

  On that plain of wanton destruction and wasted life, Death gloriously reaped its harvest. Both sides withered under the exchange of fire, cut down where they stood with nowhere to go.

  There was no retreat. There was no surrender. There was only the complete and total annihilation of those who opposed them.

  And all the while, the rebels chanted their new battle cry.

  “NEM-E-SIS!!”

  * * * * *

  “I am the sword." A Slayer exploded as Nemesis katana sliced through it.

  “I am the shield.” The giant katana swept out, slicing sharply to the left, bifurcating a Strident that had approached too close.

  Mikkhael was alternately speaking and screaming as he fought.

  "Feel my pain." Another died as he spoke softly, carefully enunciating each syllable of every word. The dichotomy present in each of the personalities he was exhibiting gave chills to friend and foe alike as his words were broadcast over every open frequency and the PA system. "I give it to you as a gift."

  The demon Mech's torso shifted, pivoting hard off the back heel as it shifted its massive weight onto the other leg; the giant katana whipsawing faster than the eye could see between three enemies that had closed in, destroying each in turn, never slowing down as it passed through each in turn. "Feel my rage. Take it from me-if you can."

  Explosions rang out in rapid succession as short-range rockets erupted from under Nemesis wings in a steady stream of chemical fire, obliterating a dozen nearby enemies. Nemesis stalked through the curtain of fire, emerging from the other side. Instead of the flames proving destructive or at even a hindrance to the ghastly Mech armor, it was if the flames had birthed the demon itself, loosing its ilk among mere mortals.

  “I am judgment.” Nemesis sprinted forward a dozen paces, faster than any other Mech armor possibly could have, rockets screaming as they activated. “I am death.” The capabilities of both man and machine alike challenged every preconceived capability of Mech armor. “I have come for you now to claim what is mine. Flee if you can.” The PDF were powerless against such unadulterated power, melting under the continuing onslaught, cut down as they fled. “I will protect them.”

  * * * * *

  Vera was appalled by the sight unfolding before her as she watched Nemesis effortlessly cleave through an armored PDF regiment. After destroying the armored personnel carriers, he continued cutting down everyone that turned to run, leaving none alive.

  Mikkhael had clearly snapped mentally. His reputation as a berserker in battle was well known, but now they were witnessing something else, something far more dangerous, to both himself and everyone around him. He seemed lost, set adrift in his world of pain and hatred, utterly consumed by his desire to save them at any cost.

  “Aurora what is happening? Why is he broadcasting on the open channels and acting that way?” Vera asked fearfully.

  Aurora’s reply was cryptic. She spoke haltingly, unsure of her answer. “I believe that “he” is a relative term at this point. Nemesis and Mikkhael are literally melding together, becoming one. It is hard to say that Mikkhael is even aware of his actions on a conscious level. He has fallen so far in himself that his primal instincts have entirely taken over, combining with Nemesis, the result of which is before you.”

  Behind Nemesis, the Omnos squad fought to hold the rest of the PDF at bay, putting their units and their bodies on the line as shields for the StormCrows who had taken to the plain, answering Alyona’s call to battle. Not all of the PDF had given up. Only those immediately around Nemesis turned and fled, no matter where he went. As if sensing the easier targets and desperate to unleash what destructive ability they had left, the PDF were pressing hard towards the horde of lightly armed StormCrows.

  In the background, the members of the Omnos squad kept track of Nemesis, worried about their friend who they loved like a brother. They watched as without any warning whatsoever, Nemesis engaged full thrusters and began racing across the plain. The solitary figure of Nemesis raced towards a regiment of PDF Mech armor, feet just barely above the ground, dust kicking up in an enormous cloud in its wake.

  Alyona shook off her confusion and concern for her friend, gritting her teeth as a missile slammed into DawnsLight from the side. Alarms blared in the cockpit, but the armor held, for now. New alarms showed that DawnsLight was beginning to suffer an increasing amount of damage. With no other choice, she continued fighting, meanwhile continuing to answer Vera’s question. “Mikkhael was never the ultimate weapon because of his incredibly fast reflexes, his innate skill as a warrior, his will to practice until perfection was second nature, or even the benefits of piloting advanced Mech armor.”

  She continued, “It’s true that he could not have become what he is without those things but there’s more to it than that. He is the ultimate weapon because no matter the challenge, or what he has to accomplish, he can adapt and then rise to meet whatever trial is in front of him, regardless of the personal cost. What we are seeing is the result of him doing exactly that, rising to meet the impossible task before him the only way possible. He can’t do it by himself though, so instead, he is giving himself over to Nemesis, trusting the possessed AI to help him.”

  Alyona stopped speaking for a moment as she stooped DawnsLight into a crouch, using the bulk of a fallen Salvatore as cover against an intense barrage that seemed more heavily focused on her unit than the others. She swept both arms over the top, raking the enemy lines with steady cannon, grenade, and sub-munition fire. She had long ago run out of rockets and missiles.

  Her efforts earned her a brief moment of reprieve to catch her breath. She glanced to the side of the HUD and immediately her AI Athena pulled up the vitals of the Omnos squad members, showing that although they were as heavily engaged as she was in pitched battles of their own, for now, they held the line. “Together, those two have no weakness. Each is the absolute pinnacle of what can be achieved. Mikkhael is the perfect warrior and Nemesis is the perfect complement to his abilities. Numbers are meaningless against them when they can anticipate the enemies’ moves far before they happen. However, the toll of that effort is warping his mind, bending it to the point of breaking, possibly permanently. He should be back in the medical ward right now, not saving these people. There is always a cost, and one thing is for certain, a hero always gets used up until they are completely spent and have nothing left to give.”

  * * * * *

  Eve watched in awe as Nemesis single handedly engaged the PDF armored formation on the farthest right, composed primarily of Mech armor. Out of the five PDF formations arrayed against them, the one on the right presented the immediate threat, attempting to flank the most capable defenders and overrun the StormCrows from behind. The three remaining formations were positioned in the shape of a triangle, ready to exploit gaps that appeared in the meager ranks of the defenders.

  Wherever Nemesis went, the PDF fled, broken before he even arrived. The demon Mech armor and its deadly katana hunted them down, executing them as they fled. Still, Mikkhael could not be everywhere at once, and the PDF used their numbers to their advantage, charging the horde of StormCrows now occupying the plain with the intention of taking as many of them with them as possible before the demon consumed them.

  Although the StormCrows expected to die in the process of answering Alyona’s call to action, they intended to make the PDF pay the highest price possible, in the blood of their own, before exiting the madness of this world. However, their spirit and numbers did not make up for their lack of weapons and armor. Increasing numbers of unarmored and lightly armed StormCrows were being slaughtered with each passing minute. Despite the valiant efforts of Eve and the other Omnos squad members to contain the damage, they were being pressed back, and each step back left more of their friends and allies vulnerable. Many of t
heir best weapons had long since been depleted, rendering their attempts increasingly desperate.

  Eve knew that the vastly outnumbered defenders were quickly reaching the breaking point, where the PDF had brought enough of their numbers to bear, thereby achieving the critical mass needed to overwhelm the few Salvatores, Furies, and Justices that were still standing. Even as she realized the direness of their situation, the last surviving pair of Furies that had so far defied the odds arrayed against them erupted in violent explosions barely two hundred meters to her left. The powerful explosions sent dozens of StormCrow infantry that had been standing at their feet flying through the air, many of them never to stand again.

  Just when all hope seemed truly lost, Commander Kjell and his army of Centurions arrived. Leading the charge, his nearly two hundred veteran pilots, and their customized, incredibly powerful Mech armor attacked the rear of the PDF formations, taking them by complete surprise.

  General Akari had not been able to warn his forces of the mercenaries’ impending treachery. The PDF had recognized the approach of the potent force of Centurions and believed that they were still allies, arriving as promised reinforcements. With their backs turned and utterly unprepared for the sudden betrayal, their lines simply disintegrated from the barrage of powerful Mech killer missiles that suddenly erupted in their midst.

  To their credit, the Centurions never slowed as they plowed through the wreckage and chaos of their ambush, pushing through the quickly falling ranks of the formations nearest them until they were able to engage the drones anchoring the center of the diamond. The mercenaries continued firing at a frenetic pace, vastly overwhelming the PDF. Each of the Centurion pilots had years of experience serving as mercenaries back on Earth, participating in one war after another. Their prowess as Mech killers was well known and well deserved. Under their onslaught, the PDF ranks bent, and then broke, incapable of holding back the dark tide of death. Dozens of Marine Steyrs and Special Forces HellCats reacted quickly, attempting to hold the line until more of their own could reinforce them, but their efforts were futile, the betrayal absolute.

  Seeing the wholesale slaughter of their allies, the last PDF formation turned and fled. With the retreat of their allies, the remaining PDF began throwing down their weapons in surrender.

  The last few PDF with the will to continue fighting were destroyed, and with their deaths, the battle for Mount Olympus ended. To call it a victory would have been a mistake. Over half of the StormCrows had died in the defense of their home, in the process suffering the total loss of their Furies and Justices. Hundreds of civilians and others who had left the safety of the mountain were dead, and hundreds more were wounded. Only five Salvatores remained, Captain Cartwright, the indomitable White Tiger among the ranks of survivors.

  Bloody and weary, the StormCrows returned to the smoking ruins of their home, unsure of what the future held for them.

  EPILOGUE

  Both your friends and your enemies believe you will never die – Irish Proverb

  DawnsLight stood awkwardly against the wall of the hangar, unable to fit into the maintenance bays of the primary hangar, dwarfing the structures built to accommodate the much smaller StormCrow MARS units that had all been destroyed during the extended fighting. Alyona climbed down from her Mech armor, nearly collapsing from exhaustion in the process. Next to her gathered the other members of the Omnos squad, including Eve. They appeared equally exhausted, their stares vacant, eyes unseeing, as their bodies moved of their own volition.

  Alyona knew it was her responsibility to rally them, but she was more tired than at any other point in her tumultuous life and could not bring herself to put forth the effort. Instead, she gazed around the primary hangar, taking in the sight of the few survivors that in no way filled the vast hangar.

  She clambered aboard a service cart, instantly curling into a ball, barely restraining sobs that were equal part relief at having lived and sorrow at the loss of so many lives.

  As she accepted the small comfort of the seat encompassing her, knowing that she was in the safety of Mount Olympus when so many had fallen outside of the walls, never to stand again, she considered the extent of the losses that surrounded her. Row upon row of empty maintenance bays spoke for themselves, testament to the brutality of their battle for survival. The simple fact that the Omnos squad Mech armor were forced to take refuge in the primary hangar instead of their own was simply another example of the level of carnage wrought. Their hangar had collapsed on itself, likely at some point during the nearly continuous bombardments.

  Commander Ultor stood at the far end of the hangar, appearing as if he had aged twenty years in the last two days. Next to him were the normally boisterous personas of Chief Engineer Sir Henry Thorsten and Dr. Hesken. The trio appeared as shell-shocked, world-weary, and sleep deprived as everyone else. Drogdyn and his few cyber technicians ran interference around the pair of division officers and the base commander, directing the survivors, answering what questions they could.

  Many of the survivors collapsed in place, asleep the second they touched the floor. Others walked, filled with nervous energy that required release. Some shuffled absently, responding to the light, guided touches of their peers, their minds unable to comprehend that it was over, that they had won a respite from the madness and death.

  Weary medical personnel and a few volunteers moved among the masses, passing out emergency packets, each containing a small bottle of oxygen and facemask, a nutrient bar, a small bottle of water, and a blanket that contained a small inflatable pillow at one end.

  Technicians and engineers who had never left for the safety of the Lazarus Faction as instructed operated the fleet of six wheeled service trucks, ferrying survivors from the plain back into the mountain and then collected wounded, transporting them to the medical ward.

  As Alyona absorbed the details of her surroundings, she realized with a start that the Omnos squad had gathered around her and that they had repeatedly attempted to garner her attention. She met their faces, seeing the exhaustion she felt mirrored in their expressions. “I’m sorry but what were you trying to say?” She asked, suddenly aware that her head was pounding and that her ears were ringing.

  Vera sat down next to her and then wrapped her arms around her, holding her tightly, shaking a bit as she did so. “We were trying to find out if you knew what happened to Mikkhael. Even Kurtis lost track of him during the fighting.”

  Eve overheard them, stepping forward hesitantly, suddenly unsure if she belonged with the Omnos squad now that the fighting had stopped. “I likely had the best vantage point from where I was. Last I saw Nemesis, it was headed farther out on the plain, pursuing the PDF formation that broke and fled.” Her voice trailed off in the end as she looked away, crossing her arms, rubbing her hands on the outside of her arms as if she were cold.

  Kiryl just chuckled by way of reply, an ominous and rumbling sound. “It’s good to have him back, but damn that sum-bitch can fight.” He said, obviously referencing Mikkhael. “Seeing him in person sure was something. It’ll be alright, he can handle himself. He’ll return to us once he’s made sure the PDF won’t be coming back, nothing we can do about it in the meantime. Our units are all busted up and out of munitions. The best course of action for us now is to try to get everything back up to snuff as quickly as possible.”

  Alyona nodded in assent, “Get some rest everyone. Commander Kjell and his mercenaries will keep watch. If they turn on us, there’s nothing we could do about it anyways, so there’s no use worrying about what we can’t control.”

  She turned from them to stare at the airlock hangar that led to the plain, “Hurry back to us Mikkhael, we need you now more than ever.”

  * * * * *

  Nemesis drifted through the ocean of swirling dust, a mindless beast seeking prey that had long since fled.

  There was no sense of time as Mikkhael drifted in and out of consciousness, losing himself to the madness of the AI whispering in his ear and th
e exhaustion etched into his very soul. The katana was long since forgotten, held in a single mechanical hand, trailing a line in the dust behind them as Nemesis aimlessly plodded onward.

  A black void descended on him, swallowing him whole, threatening to devour him forever. Mikkhael’s sub-consciousness fought desperately to hold the blackness at bay, aware of its dark permanence, but he was too spent and knew that it was only a matter of time before the madness overwhelmed him.

  Without explanation or input from him, Nemesis halted. Several moments passed before Mikkhael realized that something had changed and that the steady vibrations from walking had stopped. He blinked heavily, desperately attempting to shake off the fog and weariness clouding his mind. The consoles and the glow of the HUD drifted hazily in front of him. Alerts sounded, requiring his attention, but he was unable to focus on them and see them for what they were.

  Mikkhael reached for the feed on the IV, already reliant on the cognitive boosting drugs, before halting himself. His hands shook from the effort of denying himself, but the moment passed and his hands automatically found their way to the wrist enclosures containing the flight controls at the end of the armrests.

  The HUD slowly drifted into focus. Mikkhael could not even raise his head all the way; he so tired, ready for it all to end.

  A voice called out from the speakers set in the cockpit, repeating itself again, this time stronger, more confident of itself, the longer he did not reply. “Pilot, power down your unit. We are friendlies and we wish to talk.”

  With a rush of adrenaline, Mikkhael’s body answered the call to action for him.

  “Pilot, power down your unit. We are friendlies and wish to talk,” repeated the voice.

  Finally, his eyes focused on the HUD, and Mikkhael realized that he was surrounded by twenty Mech armor, all pitch black like his own. The sensor readouts were confused by what they saw, unable to get a clear picture of the surrounding units. Suddenly becoming more alert, Mikkhael realized that the units surrounding him were remarkably similar to the Salvatore and Omnos squad Mech armor, highly advanced models that only the rebels used. But he was not aware of another faction having access to such advanced designs.