Sam

Sam placed his cybernetic hand on the seat’s armrests. The motor muscles wind down as to conserve power. He leaned back into the cushioning, the cybernetic enhancements across his spine adjusting to his motion.

He reached for the maneuvering sticks, but his hand twitched the moment he grabbed it. Had the twitch returned? Was his body rejecting the augmentations again? He shoved the concern away, knowing it would not affect his mission and the mission was all that mattered. He grabbed the sticks, the implants in his hands and fingers providing him with superior tactile feeling against the sticks’ rubber surfaces. The consoles’ displays showed the list of flight patterns which were ready for use. The Final Sight glided through the final stretch of space to the asteroid they had chosen earlier. Leo’s piloting skills were missed, but as Captain, Sam had to make do with what he had.

“Doc, how does it look? Have we been spotted yet?” Sam asked.

The medical officer had been assigned to navigation. Running a ship with a crew of three instead of the intended twelve gave everyone a second, third and forth role.

“Space is looking empty, boss,” Diego said.

This deep into enemy territory, losing focus for a second meant death. The death that was meant for their enemies, for their punishment.

Sam steered the Final Sight slowly closer to the asteroid, until he was satisfied. “Anchor her down, Doc. I will see to my rig before I head out.”

“Good luck, boss,” Diego said with a stable tone. But Sam knew how Diego was terrified of him, and as Claire was. The whole world was. Which they rightfully should be. Because his savagery traded only in pain and death.

The motor muscles embedded inside his augmented body came online as he came to his feet, giving him that spring in his strides as he made his way through the ship’s corridors. Empty and quiet. He recalled the days when the corvette had been crewed properly and bustling with people, people with dedication and energy. A different life, a life with more meaning than war, but now the war was all that was left.

He strode passed the training room, glancing into it. The dark scorch marks from Blue’s lightning were still strewn across the bulkhead walls. He snapped away from it and leaned forward, into his strides and clenching his jaw.

The door to the workshop was ajar. The sounds of machinery and hardware work echoing through the air. He passed the racks of equipment and spare parts. A giant lightning rod laid out on one shelf, he stopped and placed a hand on its smooth metallic coils.

“They will feel the thunder of my fury.” Sam let go and walked to the end of Claire’s workshop.

Her hair was disheveled and her crew uniform dirtied with blackened oil stains. Claire guided the lift, which held the multiple barrelled laser cannon, pushed it into place and bolted it fast onto his rig’s left arm.

Sam grunted at her and nodded, placing a hand on the rig’s back panels. On his touch the back panels segmented and folded away, creating an opening big enough for him.

“Have the twitch returned?” Claire asked.

Sam grunted. “Shut up.”

It was always best to be firm. Cannot have missteps and weakness this close to the mission.

He stepped into his suit of armor, the back paneling closing and merging again. His arms came into place, his fingers reaching for the controls and triggers inside the gauntlets. The rig interfaced with his implants and motor muscles. Death was to be dealt.

“Are you suiting up?” Sam said through the rig’s speakers.

Claire looked down, avoiding his gaze and question. She was backing out. A second rig stood beside his, it was constructed for precision and speed where his was constructed for bluntness and power. The dashes of red and black color across its hull looked childish.

“I recognise that coldness in your eyes, Capt’n. You will go into that city and kill whoever is in your path. Soldiers and civilians alike,” Claire said. “After our last outing, I don’t… I don’t want to go in my rig again. I want to puke by the mere thought.”

Sam stared at her. “Dead is dead. To kill those that deserve killing, that is what we have left, Claire. There are no civilians when Saif is involved. I know where he hides that lab of his, where he creates the men and women for his vanguard. If we destroy it, it will put a wrench into his machinery of war. Yes, whoever is in my way, they will be cut down.”

“Please, Capt’n, you don’t have to be like this,” Claire said. “I am not following you down there. All that killing, it’s too much. The things you do, its more like murder than anything else.”

“Killing is killing, and those who deserve it, deserve it,” Sam said. All weapons gave green lights. “Fine, stay behind. I cannot have your cowardice and weakness slow me down.”

Claire nodded. “Besides I have an experiment I wanted to test with The Breach’s circuit boards. There is still juice left in some of them. He might still b...”

Sam stepped forward, putting the rig’s gauntlet on her head. “Dead is dead. You have tried your goddamn experiments. Don’t you give me hope.” He shoved her away and she stumbled to the floor. “Don’t you give me hope.”

“With all that fucking talk about killing you might as well blow yourself up and not come back!” Claire said, wiping the tears from her face.

Sam grunted. “Good idea. A nuke will do fine. If I trigger it inside the lab there will be no survivors. I could put it on a timer or detonate it remotely. Everyone dies. No goddamn scraps left for Saif. Claire, that was the best idea you have had since we escaped the city.”

“Please, Capt’n, I didn’t mean it like that. Think of the civilians. And the children!” Claire looked scared.

Sam turned away and strode out from the workshop. “Everyone is guilty and the only punishment dealt out is death.” With the rig’s gauntlets he grabbed one of the nukes that was lying on the racks, his rig connected with it, making it possible for him to detonate it with a trigger word. “Good plan.”

“I am sorry, Capt’n. I couldn’t save him or you. You are lost in the darkness of your rage, Capt’n, and the light will not come on,” Claire said. “I am sorry.”

Sam ignored her blabbering, heading for the airlock.

The airlock’s outer door closed behind him, and he held onto the ship’s hull with one of the rig’s gauntlets, with the other he held the nuke. Space was vast, dark and empty. But the Space City, Europe13 floated as a jewel before him.

“Keep my ship in one piece,” Sam said through the shared comm channel.

“Yes, sir,” Diego said.

“Mission is a go,” Sam said before cutting off the channel. It might be detected by the city’s powerful sensor arrays.

Sam bent his knees, the rig translating the movement. His timing needed to be precise and his launch not too strong, his intended trajectory was painted on his helmet’s display, or else he would drift into space or be smashed onto the city’s outer hull. He aligned himself and rearranged his fingers inside the gauntlets. He inhaled deeply and pushed away.

He floated across the gap in silence and cold, and slow but he was moving closer. He would not even be a blip on their scopes, neither thermal or laser. A killer in the dark closing in on its prey.

His trajectory looked fine, he followed it nicely as detailed on his display. Starships floated passed him in the distance, unaware of his presence and payload. If the nuke in his grip would have traveled the way it commonly did, burning rocket fuel, it would have lit up like a christmas light on their displays. But today, that was not the case.

He flipped and bent his knees, the motion translated seamlessly into the rig. With his slow approach he would be able to catch his descent against the outer hull of the city without breaking every bone in his body. The motor muscles would be stretched to their limits, but the risk was worth it. He held the nuke above his helmet, away from his landing site. If he dropped it he would be able to go after it again. The gauntlet’s grip was already locked around the grip he had chosen. He braced himself for impact.

The rig’s boots made contact with the outer hull and which compressed against his weight and velocity. Micro fractures shot out from where he landed. He bent his knees, the motor muscles whining in the silence of space. The nuke was still firm in his grip.

The airlocks around the outer hull would not have any passcodes to operate, but the usage of it would be noticed and surveillance kicked in. His passage through the lock was not scheduled. He would be detected, so he had to move fast. He found the airlock, its outer door slid open on his command and he went in, the city’s gravity core pulled him down to the floor. The outer door closed and pressurized, and as the inner door opened, he rushed inside.

His cybernetically enhanced body and his improved rig with its tailored interface, provided him with many new upgrades. Combat drugs were stored in small containers behind the thigh plates. With a single command, the drugs were injected through his thigh muscles and into his bloodstream directly. A warm sensation of power surged through him. He felt invincible. His reflexes quickened and his muscles grew stronger. The cocktail of drugs kept fatigue at bay, for a time, it was savagery made liquid. The triggering of the injection awoken all the embedded weaponry in his body.

He ignored the people, shoving anybody that didn’t move in time to the side. Screams followed him. They were nothing, only puppets standing in his way. He plowed forward.

He skidded around a corner with the nuke in tow. To reach his destination he needed to go through the railgun carts, or at least along them. He crashed into one of the cart stations, a single combat suit stood by the side, probably part of the security personnel.

“Metal face!” Sam yelled, leaping the distance between them. A combat suit could delay him, it was best to put them down quickly. Hit first and hit hard.

He swiped the nuke across the suit’s leg and the man buckled, its rig landing heavy on the floor. He pressed down a knee against the suit’s right arm and pressed the nuke on the left, pinning the security man down. With a finger on his laser cannon’s trigger, the multiple barrel setup started revving up. The seams between armor plates on combat suits were seemingly invisible, since the plates merged together, but they were still weak spots. He aligned the cannon’s muzzles at the suit’s neck and face plate, and pulled the trigger. The cannon spewed superheated laser beams, lighting up the place in red. It took a moment, but the merged plates failed nonetheless. The armor plating peeled open, exposing the man’s face before melting the skin and flesh of his skull. The screaming stopped. He got up and onto the railgun tube, sprinting along it.

As the section’s security viewed the footage of what transpired on the cart station, they would notice the nuke in his grip and go apeshit. The whole city would go into red alert and be put into lockdown, but it had not happened yet. He breathed in the rhythm of his strides, the path to his destination mapped out on his display. The combat drugs circulating inside him delayed his body’s lactic acid in saturating his muscles, and relaxed his lungs, giving him additional energy to work with. He was not powered, but he was improved.

He arrived at the cart station and the two guards in combat suits noticed him. He placed his finger on the cannon’s trigger again, making the barrels spin up. A guard who was used to his combat suit’s usual superiority would be hesitant when his weapons were disabled and his vision blurred.

“Stop there! What is that in your hand?” The first guard yelled.

“He is in a combat suit!” The second guard said. “Is that a nuke?”

Sam threw the nuke towards the second guard. “Hold this!” And jumped.

The beams from his cannon seared off the first guard’s laser cannon from its mounting and two acid rounds from his shotgun splashed across the man’s helmet. The corrosive ooze ate through the metal and outer layer of sensors, effectively blinding the guard, as another shell was loaded into the weapon.

Sam landed behind the first guard and committed two rounds of acid, which splashed across the back plating and started eating their way through. He extended an arm forward, and a hidden compartment opened in the gauntlet. A circular, spinning, saw blade shot out and dug into the weakened combat suit. The combat suit fell forward as motor muscles and balancing mechanisms went offline. The ejected saw blade had sliced both the main and redundant power lines outputting from the very core. A combat suit without juice was effectively a metal coffin.

Sam swung around, the second guard was still fumbling with the nuke, it looked like the man was even trying to remove the detonation unit. He extended a gauntlet forward and another saw blade shot out, aimed at the guard’s helmet. It was a diversion, but the guard didn’t understand that and the incoming, spinning and glimmering, saw blade caught all his attention, as Sam leaped forward.

The saw blade bounced off the helmet, inflicting only minor damages.

“Mine.” Sam grabbed the nuke and aligned his other gauntlet. A pipe extended from the inside. A thick paste was discharged from the pipe and landed on the guard’s knee. Upon contact with air, the paste became adhesive, then solidified and finally detonating. Metal as well as flesh was burnt and turned into slag. The guard fell forward. A combat suit which was missing a knee and leg, usually meant death to its pilot.

Sam aligned the acid shotgun. The corrosive ooze splashed across the guard’s neck and face plating. Another acid round was loaded into the shotgun. He discharged again. The merged plates liquefied by their seams and the ooze ate at the guard’s face.

Sam was already moving away from the scene, but the screaming stopped eventually, as it always did.

The corridor ended with a strange milky veil. The same he had seen through the camera in Milo’s crew uniform. He would not be able to pass through it without being disintegrated. Not a fun idea.

He put the nuke to the side and went down on a knee, with a finger on the cannon’s trigger the barrels spun up. “If you cannot open the door, blow the hinges.”

He squeezed the trigger and tracked the outside frame of the veil and the walls and ceiling. The superheated beams sliced through the material.

The rectangle was completed and the milky veil faded away, revealing a stretch of desert sand and the lab in the background.

He grabbed the nuke and strode across the sand dunes. With the weight of his rig and when he pushed into his strides, his boots sank a bit into the sand. He was slowed down, but not stopped. The white walls of Saif’s facility started where the field of sand ended.

A person with the skin of white marble stepped in front of him and extended a hand forward, there was a rock in the man’s hand. “Stop where you stand or I will hurt you.”

The powered man was young and his power was connected with rocks. Marble skin and rock in hand.

“No, I will not,” Sam said, stepping forward, but he was still ten strides away from the man. “You, goddamn, powered people. You think you are so strong and mighty, I will show you true might.”

The man stepped forward and the scar across the man’s scalp became visible, someone had hit him hard, but he had survived. “I will hurt you. Tupoy.”

“I will let you in on something. I, goddamn, hate Russians.” Sam placed a finger on the cannon’s trigger, the barrels spun up. “I once knew someone who could shatter boulders with her fists, but now it’s my time to crack your stone skin open.”

He squeezed the trigger, but his helmet cracked back and his rig landed in the sand. Damage reports were displayed, micro fractures all across his helmet and down the neckline, dangerously close to the merged seams. Something hard had struck his face. A green rock with black ridges was lying in the sand besides his face, the nuke was lying behind it. Had he thrown a rock at him?

“Tupoy!”

Sam rolled to the side and the marbled man’s elbow landed where he had just been. He aimed the shotgun and fired, the corrosive payload splashed across the marbled man’s neck and face. There was confusion and surprise in his face, but no signs of pain or any deterioration in the marble. Another acid shell was loaded into the weapon with that distinct click. Sam got up on his boots, planting them wide in the sand, and the knees low for optimal stability.

It had been just in time. Because a stream of pebbles impacted against his rig’s helmet, he tried shielding himself with a gauntlet, but it managed nothing. The pebbles slammed into him, pushing him backwards, his boots slid through the sand. Every stone that struck him made a thumping sound, like when a hail storm bombarded a metal roof.

People were screaming behind him. People in white lab coats. Personnel of the facility. Sam placed his finger on the cannon’s trigger, the barrels spun up, and he aimed the weapon towards them instead. He squeezed the trigger, the cannon’s usual sound when fired couldn’t be heard above the storm of pebbles striking him. The beams from the fast firing laser cannon sliced through human skin as easy as wet paper. His barrage left charred pieces of men and women, but there were more people in the building. The beams struck the building, which caught on fire.

His connection to the nuke was severed, he couldn’t detonate it from his rig.

The stream of pebbles ceased, and since the continued push against him vanished he fell forward, crashing face down into the sand. His enhanced reflexes kicked in and he came back onto his feet. New warnings rained across his display, the storm of pebbles had caused the microfractures to grow into real cracks in his armor plating.

A new warning popped up.

A fist made out of marble came at him, but at the last second he ducked under it.

“What have you done?!” The marbled man yelled. “You killed Jelena!”

The punch was followed up with an overhead smash. Sam tried leaning into the motion of the punch, but failed, and was struck awkwardly on his shoulder. A new warning, the armor plating had shattered. He fell forward, but rolled away from the screaming man.

“Why!” The marbled man yelled and came after him. “Tupoy!”

Sam turned and ejected all the spinning saw blades at once, five in total, which flew towards the Russian. It sure caught the man’s attention. From Sam’s other gauntlet, the paste pipe extended and as the Russian deflected the incoming saw blades, Sam sprayed the paste around the man’s left knee. Missing a knee usually meant defeat. The paste became adhesive before solidifying around the man’s knee and finally it detonated.

No damage. Not even a scratch. The Russian looked at his knee, but mostly looked annoyed, he looked up at Sam and growled.

Punch after punch with marbled fists were committed against him. As many that he managed to avoid and deflect with smartly angled gauntlets, as many struck his rig with full force. There was no sign of slowing down, no openings to return the favor, only the incoming storm of stone fists. The facility was fully ablaze, more people in lab coats ran out and around the building, he couldn’t count them or track them. The marbled man’s assault was too demanding, punch after punch. More warnings of damage were displayed, armor platings were wearing down and shattering at a worrying rate. He tried getting off shot with his laser cannon and the shotgun, but they only glanced off the man’s marble skin and who just shrugged them off, before cursing again. He needed to get away. To outsmart the man in marble. Or blow the nuke, trading his life for the death of the entire city, but his rig’s connection to it had been severed. The burning building provided an opportunity.

Another punch came towards his face and he stepped to the side, trying to avoid a direct hit, but his boot sunk deeper than expected into the sand and he fell instead. The punch cracked open his helmet and parts of his displays went offline. With the incoming assault of stone fists, he had missed that their fight had been moved closer to the burning facility. He threw himself backwards, crashing through the burning wall.

The sudden stop of punches gave him a chance to breathe and think, and go through the many warnings that were displayed. He crashed through another wall and kept moving, creating distance. His rig was trashed, hanging onto him in tatters and barely protected him against the licking flames, and actually slowing him down a bit. But the comm system worked and there was little reason to stay dark. He flipped them on while stepping through another wall inside this burning hell.

“Claire!” Sam yelled.

There was a static crackle across the encrypted channel.

“Claire!” Sam yelled, but something hit him and he fell forward. A marbled fist had struck the back plating.

He rolled around, the marble man’s fists slamming down, splintering the floor. But there was something wrong, the rig’s knees were not bending as they should. He placed both his thumbs on two different, but symmetrical buttons inside the gauntlets. The marble man’s fists came down at him again. He squeezed the buttons at the same moment.

A series of clicks ran along the rig, unanchoring it from him and the acid shotgun. The rig’s back panels cracked open and folded away. The rig launched forward and up towards the marbled man, with Sam still on the floor, and with all its motor muscles working in conjunction it grabbed the man and hugged him tightly.

Sam rolled and got up on his boots. The acid shotgun had been released from the rig and been anchored onto the embedded mounting on his arm, but it meant that he only had a single drum magazine loaded into the weapon. He ran as fast he had ever done before, his cybernetically enhanced body making it possible for him to push beyond all human limits.

He threw himself through the last crumbling and burning wall, landing in the sand. He came up to one knee and aligned the shotgun.

His rig detonated. The burning building’s roofs shattered and crashed down, burying the marbled man in its burning rubble.

“What?” Diego asked through the comm channel.

“About goddamn time!” Sam yelled, got up on his feet and went looking for the nuke. The city’s security personnel would come storming here any second. “We are on a mission and you don’t answer me. I understand that you are angry with me, but goddammit. This is mission critical.”

The field of sand was larger than he expected, but there it was, the nuke was lying half buried in the sand.

“You think little of me. The comm channel has difficulties penetrating the city’s layers of concrete, insulation and wiring,” Diego explained. “My console says that you blew your rig and your vitals are all over the place. What is happening over there?”

Sam grunted, making his way towards the nuke. “Blow the nuke.”

“You can’t be serious. It will kill both you and the entire city,” Diego said.

“Blow it!” Sam yelled.

“Alright, I actually pressed the right buttons, I am sure of it. I am not as tech savvy with these consoles as Leo, but I am sure I pressed the right buttons,” Diego said. “The nuke is not connected to the ship anymore.”

The Russian must have messed with the nuke’s comm link. No worries, it could still be detonated manually.

Sam struggled through the last stretch of sand, moving in it was a grind. He felt naked without his rig, if only their material science could have been more advanced, then he could have had multiple layers of his rig.

The nuke was in two pieces. The detonation unit had been disassembled from the nuke and crushed, the nuke’s comm link was shattered and hanging off its mounting. The marbled man. The goddamn Russian.

“Don’t worry, Diego, that goddamn man of stone has disabled the nuke,” Sam said. “He must have done it when he bombarded me with pebbles. Plan C. I need an evac.”

“I don’t know which flight pattern to run!” Diego said. “How should I fly past the city’s defenses?”

Sam checked over the shotgun attached to his arm, the drum magazine was fully loaded with twelve rounds of acid. “Figure it out. I am cutting the channel, I will need to try to avoid being tracked by the guards. See you at the rendezvous point.”

“I am not Leopold!” Diego yelled.

Sam grunted and severed the channel. He strode through the remains of the destroyed milky veil, with his shotgun aimed forward.