Rise of Aen

by Damian Shishkin

  The blockade was well-defended; over fifty M1A2 tanks manned the front lines as other mobile mortar tanks took up the rear to drop rounds from above. In between sat the infantry themselves, and they were all at the edge of nervousness and fear with only their training and command officers keeping them from flying off the handle. It was a fine line, one that would get pushed once they all finally could see what they were up against and as the enormous black ships began to settle in the distance, it wouldn’t be long until they did.

  The ground shook beneath their feet as the ships touched down even though they landed more than thirty miles in the distance. All was quiet for a moment before the unmistakable sounds of infantry footfalls caught the wind. Everyone scrambled to be ready and mortar tanks fired on the location of the ships and where they would be unloading their payload of horrors. The sound of the tanks unleashing their arsenal was deafening, as was the impacts miles away as the explosive rounds detonated to an unknown result on the targets. Being so far away and the smoke billowing forth from the explosions made it impossible to tell, but all the while the constant march of the alien infantry never ended.

  Then came bright flashes in the distance and between the buildings of the city—those who had not been evacuated or stayed to fight for themselves were being slaughtered as screams joined the cacophony of noise. Slowly, the Husk scoured the depths of the empty city as they searched for prey and made their way towards the waiting blockade. After an agonizing half-hour, the first of the alien advance troops appeared from the city line and the soldiers got a look at an alien creature.

  It was pale-skinned; more of a hide than skin, hide that was greyish and stretched tight over a bony skeleton. Arms were laced with what looked to be armor, but was really integrated machinery and electronics connected to a metallic half chest plate. Its stomach was bare and taut, almost starving, and the lower half of its body looked to more machine than biological, with long lean legs that helped in its awkward but efficient stride. It looked like a malnourished troll crossed with a skeletal robot and caused both keen interest and deep fear to fill the hearts of the soldiers.

  As it cleared the buildings and strode out in the open, it craned its neck and looked to be scanning the horizon, stopping when it laid eyes on the makeshift bunker and front lines of the humans. Its eyes, all six of them, were black as coal and were positioned much like a spider’s, giving it superior vision and awareness. A demonic smile began to form on its face as leathery skin retracted to show razor-sharp teeth. A nervous soldier fired a burst from his assault rifle, more from fear and nerves, as no order to fire had been given—the being took the rounds square in the shoulder. Showing no ill effects of the hit, it crouched down aggressively as a tubular device emerged from its right arm. Raising the arm in the direction of the shots that struck it, it fired a lightning quick plasma round and struck the fearful soldier—the plasma burned the majority of him to ashes and left little but his legs below his knees. The entire front line erupted in chaos at this as some went into fetal positions in unimaginable fear and others went crazy and jumped up, letting loose round after round at the lone creature. Bullets chittered off its metal components and drove it back behind an abandoned car. As it stood to return fire, a marine sniper struck it hard in the chest with a 50cal, tearing apart much of its torso and causing it to call out in an unnatural scream. As the caterwauling and spine tingling whine died down, one of the M1A2 tanks fired on the sentry; the explosive shot sent pieces of the alien in all directions. The front lines erupted in cheers, a small bit of vengeance for their lost comrade.

  Jubilance was short-lived, however, as two more sentries came out of the clearing in response to their brother’s call. Then there was three more, then eight more, then ten more—all with plasma cannons armed and rose to fire at the troops. All the while, the marching footsteps intensified, no longer being just background noise. The alien cavalry was here, and soon the soldiers got a look at a different type of creature.

  Size and armament were the two main differences for these Husk versus the sentries. These were near eight and a half feet tall; though they were slouched over, due to the weight of the armor. Massive and muscular were these aliens—a stark cry from the scrawny waifs before them. Their skin was eerily white, which reflected off the dark metal of their “enhancements” as they moved through the evening light. Supported by thick, three-toed mechanical feet with a claw-like appendage off the heel, they lumbered towards the barricade. Their legs were hinged backwards at the knee, but were heavily armored nonetheless, attached to the torso by hoses and metallic joints. The torso itself held little or no “meat” as the biological aspect of these troops was replaced long ago. On the right side was a flesh arm to the forearm, but that part was replaced by a three-barrelled cannon, each of which glowed brightly with a pre-fire charge. The left side was the eyebrow raiser—two arms protruded there. One flesh arm that again was cut at the elbow and replaced with a three-fingered claw that held a spear-like weapon, the other was all robotic—attached slightly above the flesh arm—and had two “elbows,” ending in a seven-foot-tall and nearly four-foot-wide solid shield, at present held behind the aliens as they marched. The head; or what could be seen of it; was like the smaller beings and tightened skin over bone. But only the jawline was exposed, the rest was covered by a bug-eyed helmet with dozens of wires connected to it and leading to the chest and back. These were the killing machines of the Husk, and every human on the line began to fear their lives were over.

  Before the alien horde could form ranks, the order to fire at will was given as mortars, tanks, grenade launchers, and rifles tore the early twilight apart—but the enemy kept marching forward as their predecessors fell dead, only to be trampled by the ones behind. The first wave was ripped apart; the soldiers opened fire before they had time to defend themselves. Behind the first wave, the second line had time to swing their shields around, the sound of bullets ricocheting off them rose. Even tank rounds exploded upon impact with the shields, but did little damage, other than denting them.

  Reaching around their personal barriers, the Husk aimed their cannons and returned fire with plasma bolts lighting up the night and turning it to day. White-hot plasma struck the barriers; destroying them and whoever stood behind them instantly as it burned everything to ash. Those in the bunker below had begun to cower in fear as they suffered burns from the heat of the enemy’s weapons.

  Aen dove into the bunker, his body armor smoking from a few hits which scarred the armor but did not penetrate it. After taking a moment to gather himself, he leaned up to lay down some cover fire as another group of soldiers joined them in the bunker. Ducking down once again, he felt all eyes focused square on him as well as a few weapons.

  “Same team.” Aen said quickly as he lifted off his helmet, causing yet a few more weapons to be pointed at him.

  “What and who the fuck are you, son?” a soldier—his markings said he was a major—hollered at him as a few men stood and shot at the now entrenched Husk behind a group of overturned cars. The muzzles barked loudly, and Aen waited until they ducked back down to reply.

  “I am the closest thing you’ve got to reinforcements right now, Major, so point those guns at the real enemy!” Aen hollered back. “Call me the end result of a mad science project, but this is why the government made me! They knew this was coming! So let’s stop the bullshit and save our asses!”

  Aen stood up suddenly, whirled around to the enemy and leveled his weapons as he unleashed a flurry of white-hot plasma bolts. It took a few seconds and more than a few uneasy glances before the men and women in the bunker joined him.

  “Weapons check,” the major hollered as he kept his soldiers. He knew they had killed only fifty or so of these things and had lost nearly three times that many in doing so; another wave of them was surely around the corner!

  Answers of “Clear” and “Good” rattled along the barrier’s edge as ammo clips were
thrown back and forth. Rifles clicked as they were reloaded and readied; the soldiers of the 101st Airborne began to stand and return fire once more to the gathering horde of Husk attackers.

  Aen marvelled at how well-tuned this officer was to his men and how he rewarded their trust in him. He wished silently that he could be a true part of this team; a true team in every sense. During the firefight, Aen had noticed how they moved as one. When one man had to duck to reload, another stood up to keep the bullets flying and the enemy hurting. They never let up!

  “Science experiment, huh?” Aen noticed the major staring right at him again. “What stupid idiot would volunteer for something like that?”

  “I didn’t.”

  A deep frown suddenly crept over the officer’s face—the realization that his government, the one he fought for without question, had done something like that without consent. “I’m sorry son.” He said putting his hand on Aen’s shoulder. “But I am glad they did only to have you with us tonight. Without you, we might have been worm food!”

  He was about to reply when the chunk of barrier he and the major were resting on exploded, sending them both hurtling in the air. Aen came to rest in a pile of dead soldiers and rubble; he quickly shook his head to clear the cobwebs as gunfire once again riddled the air. Explosion after explosion sent several men flying about.

  It was then that Aen noticed the major lying about ten feet away, in a pile of shattered concrete and steel, three lengths of blood-soaked rebar sticking out of his torso. The man’s eyes opened slowly and locked with Aen’s. He began to talk, but his voice was lost over the gun retorts and explosions, so Aen read his lips carefully. The major repeated the same few words a few times before stopping completely; his eyes took on the vacant and familiar stare of death. Aen pulled himself from the debris and pulled his rifles from their holsters on his back. Slowly, he walked through the carnage to the spot where he was thrown from; a now gaping hole in the barrier. Looking around he saw the fear in the men as they fought back valiantly; the words of the Major echoing in his mind.

  Save my men.

  It was the only thing their leader wanted as he died, the only thing he cared about as he slipped away. Not his family, not himself, but his men. This was the only person who had shown any true compassion to Aen, the only one since his whole ordeal began that cared.

  Aen reached down and picked up his helmet and emptied the dirt from it before donning it once more. He stepped out into the open—his body began to set up a shield of some kind automatically in response to the hits he was taking by being front and center. Once more his heart began to race as his anger welled; he would save these men and women, and he would avenge the major! Tonight the Husk would feel his power, tonight they would know they were in for a real fight!

  Lyarran Vessel Dark Light, Alpha Centari -

  Twelve Hours since Arrival

  Space began to bubble and burst; a pinprick of light gave way to a mammoth tear in the dark as the Dark Light burst forth into a strange, three-host star system. The ship powered down her huge jump space reactors and pumped coolant into them. Council Lyxia had kept her ship longer than normal in jump space in a desperate attempt to make up some time in her rush to the aide of Terra Sol, but they still remained a bit more than four days out.

  Scanners quickly detected the comm buoy placed her by an Imperial surveyor vessel eons ago as she wondered if it would be still operational. The last time this buoy had been active was when the Amarra had passed through on her long passage to study the inhabitants of the rim world Terra Sol, but that was thousands of years ago and the Empire had advance greatly with their technology in that time.

  The ship rumbled beneath her feet, as the sub-light engines moved them in position to link up to the Imperial network. Lyxia sighed impatiently as the tedious process seemed to take longer than usual; her frayed nerves made everything small press her patience. To her surprise, the buoy powered up as it connected to the Dark Light and began to connect them with the universe they had been disconnected from for hours.

  “Status update on our reinforcements?” she called out casually. “How far behind are the warships now?

  There was a brief moment of silence as the data streamed in and was read. “Battle group will arrive four days after we will,” the communications officer reported back. “They’ve made up two days in jump space so far!”

  “I find that very unreassuring, Kala. Reports showing the size of the slaver’s fleet would make it a very lopsided fight.” Lyxia said with a painful sadness. “In four days, after arrival, we may be nothing but debris.”

  This drastically changed the mood on the Operations deck. Chatter of concern echoed to and fro. Lyxia let them banter back and forth; if they were rushing to their doom, they deserved to know it. Kala smiled in return to the words and she returned to her station with renewed confidence. Lyxia smiled—it took a lot of energy to keep her finger on the pulse of her ship and know every shift in mood and opinion. The academy had prepared her well for this command. It had driven the point home relentlessly that to lead, you had to know everything those who followed you were thinking at all times. It was exhausting, but well worth it in times like this.

  “Council!” Kala called out and interrupted her deep thoughts. “We have a connection with the Amarra and her AI!”

  “I thought the Amarra was dead and running on negligible power reserves?” Lyxia questioned.

  “Her power levels are showing full and her AI is actually trying to link with us. We are receiving real time telemetry from the conflict.”

  The room was quiet as the systems struggled to link up over the network, thousands of light-years apart from each other. Seconds ticked by into minutes as the entire room focused on the data pouring in. Then the silence was broken by a mechanical voice.

  “Ah, there we are at last! Hello there, Dark Light, the Amarra stands ready to assist you.”

  “Construct,” Lyxia began, “What is the status there? How goes the fight?”

  “Earth burns and her people are scattered and fearful.” The reply was far from what Lyxia had hoped to hear. “Humans were not ready for this; they are hopelessly overmatched, yet they fight back as if they can win. It is very admirable.”

  Admirable. Hearing the very word conveyed with emotion struck her as odd. AI’s weren’t programmed with emotion—in fact, they were prohibited from such upgrades so they could avoid being emotional to the point of upheaval. They were integral parts of the fleet’s operating systems, not something you would want to risk to a mood swing.

  “Construct,” she began with a bit of contempt. “Define your operating parameters!”

  “I do not understand, Council, is there a problem with my programming?” Caretaker asked as her sudden turn of emotion was confusing.

  “Yes. There is a definite emotion and personality to your programming that goes against all laws written by the Imperial Council. You are a direct violation of those laws and therefore are closer to the enemy then an ally.”

  Caretaker thought about this—his vast intellect searched long dormant files and saw where the Council was coming from. Written about the time after the Empire had formed, AIs were to be emotionless and limited to assisting and uncreative thinking, so as not to threaten the safety or the integrity of any citizen of the Empire, a law that was a reaction to first contact with the Husk—a species overtaken by the technology that they spawned and had become the living embodiment of a scientist’s nightmare. He reached out to the network that the Dark Light was anchored to and updated his outdated files. Indeed, much had changed since his creation three thousand years ago, including the fear of a rogue AI running rampant and using the vast technology of the Imperial fleet against itself. He formed an argument to defend himself, and then quashed it, as he figured he would simply reason with the young Council; all of this he had done in a fraction of a second.

  “I u
nderstand your hesitation to trust me, Council,” he began in earnest. “But please realize that my programming had been advanced due to necessity rather than malice. I have no intention of linking to the Imperial mainframe and becoming a machine of malice. All these years watching the humans grow has produced a soft spot for them, and I will fight with Aen to save them. Besides, I believe—being linked to the Amarra—that I shall not see the end of this battle.”

  Lyxia was impressed; her anger and outrage over this construct began to subside slightly. Strategically, it could be a great ally, but that would mean giving it access to the Dark Light and she had no intention of that! The risk to her crew was too great, given the strength of this cruiser in comparison to the aged Amarra.

  “For now, I shall let it go.” She said with a slight hesitation. “But once this is over, I shall personally see to it that you are wiped clean.”

  “An acceptable truce, Council, as I doubt that one or both of us will survive this battle.”

  It was a statement that chilled her to the core, but one that held too many truths to ignore. No matter her disdain for the AI, it was a suicide mission she raced towards—a mission like this had casualties much higher than survivors. It was a storybook battle, one which would herald great heroes that would be martyrs rather than rewarded. Hero—the word itself made her think of the creature in the hologram in the Council chamber. It was his face, his eyes that haunted her dreams.