2

He dreamed an old dream. They were four facing a mob made of all the worst scum humanity can offer. The Turnage was a Smithfield Class maximum security orbital platform, one of a dozen scattered throughout the rings of Saturn. Prisoners were tasked with breaking down and mining asteroids for rare metals and minerals. Yutani Corp, which owned a major stake in the prison mining game, dispatched a covert team of scientists to the facility. They, with the unlimited resources of a company whose assets included whole planets and the freedom of an almost entirely unregulated medical research field, cooked up a super drug which, supposedly, was meant to make the prisoners more malleable. More open to suggestion, while also allowing them to surpass normal human limitations. Such as hunger, exhaustion, pain. Yutani wanted living robots, that much was clear. Jack would later reflect on how this would be a clever work-around for the regulations against actual robots in warfare. A soldier who will fight and follow orders absolutely, a unit whose morale doesn't matter and nor does the quality of life for the troops. Fire-and-forget human soldiers.

The four advanced down a long hallway. They were deep within the prison facility now, well past the mining operations portion of the rig. Shit had gone, predictably in Jack's opinion, south with Yutani's little cocktail. The drug had indeed produced a dozen successful results, with docile and quiet worker-drone people being the product. But as the experiment progressed, the last eight prisoners selected for the first wave study had reacted...strangely. Whatever those scientists had cooked up in whichever lab turned those men into monsters. Hulking, huge and twisted. Each man's muscles had swollen to grotesque proportions, eyes red and bulging from their sockets. Their skin had taken on a deep red blush which covered their entire bodies. In the short mission brief, Jack had been shown security recordings of the creatures tearing prisoners, doctors, and armed security forces apart with nothing more than their hands.

The hallway was long and narrow, lacking entirely any windows or doors; it served as an umbilical arm connecting a segregated laboratory to the rest of the facility. Power to the complex had been compromised sometime during the initial riot and the system had defaulted to it's emergency secondary generators. Lights in the ceiling burned amber in their recessed sockets, occasionally flickering. Jack occupied the central position in their tight formation, supporting an injured man by the name of Holmes with his left arm. To his right was Crowley, his wild orange hair held tight by the bandanna he wore. Crowley had his shotgun held ready, aiming at the door ahead. Loveless ran point, the flashlight at the end of his auto rifle danced around the far end of the corridor. They quickened their pace as they approached the door, Jack sat Holmes down so he rested with his back against the wall a few feet from the door, trying his best to be as gentle as he could. He tried to wipe away Holmes' blood from his gloves, but found his pants were stained too. The lights flickered. Jack tapped a command into his gauntlet and then waved his hand over Holmes' body. Medical data, injury summary reports, crawled across the display of Jack's helmet. He dug around in his belt, finding the pouch where he kept his stims and then another where he kept medical supplies. A banging startled him, breaking his focus. Loveless was now trying to pound on the door.

"Can it, Loveless. You want to let everything in this place know we're here?"

"Well I don't see what you want me to do then Jack, the power is fucked and that door is too thick to cut through."

"Pull security Loveless, watch the door we came through. I'm going to patch up Holmes. Crowley, run a bypass on that door. Use one of your spare power cells, don't even try to trust the power long enough to get it done."

He watched long enough to see Loveless take a few paces back down the corridor and returned his focus to Holmes. He knew Crowley would already be working on his own task. Jack finished retrieving the bio-injector from his belt. The worst of Holmes' wounds, externally at least, was a gaping gash on his right side. Holmes had removed the side plates from his armor prior to deployment, against Jack's advice. A slick inmate armed with a sharpened piece of corrugated steel had found a home for his improvised blade in that gap. Jack pushed back the thick coverall Holmes wore away from the wound and aimed the bio-injector. The device was shaped almost like an old spray cleaner bottle, but scaled down. When activated, it would dispense a foam that would help clean, and then clot and seal the wound. At least temporarily. Bio-foam was never a permanent solution. Holmes spasmed violently as the foam filled his torso.

"Shit! Can't even warn me Jack?" His voice was strained and hoarse.

"Heads up." Jack said flatly as he tossed away the bio-injector and took up the stimpack. He flicked off the safety cap and injected the contents into the meat of Holmes' thigh. Holmes' head rocked back slowly until it reacted on the wall and he inhaled slowly, but audibly, through his nose.

"Please tell me that one wasn't produced by Yutani Corp."

Jack laughed, lightly punched Holmes' shoulder. "Rest up, for a few. We're gonna get out of here."

At that moment his motion detector indicated movement to his rear. He rose spinning, bringing his rifle to bear.

"Jack!" Loveless called from ahead.

"I know! Crowley, hurry it up!"

He ran to support Loveless and he had just reached him when they heard a metallic scream. A screech of distressed metal. A faint sliver of darkness began to appear in the middle of the double doors at the end of the corridor.

"How in the fuck? Crowley sealed those himself! Safety locks and all!" He brought his rifle up on his shoulder, thumbing off the safety with a click.

"Hold!" Jack said sharply. "Crowley, what are we looking like?"

"I need sixty seconds!" He shouted back.

Something roared from the end of the corridor. Steel groaned as locking mechanisms within the door were brutally forced apart. A human face appeared in the gap, twisted with rage, eyes bloodshot, skin stretched grotesquely against the hard skull. This creature that had once been a man was working to force himself through the doors, succeeding in working one of his arms up to the shoulder and his head through the gap. He bellowed, spraying spittle and filling the corridor with a booming roar. The thing resumed its struggle, trying to force more of its body in through the gap between the doors. Jack again heard the groan and strain of the doors inner mechanisms failing, and could actually see the doors slide just a fraction of an inch apart. Deciding he'd seen enough, more than enough, he switched the safety off on his own rifle and squeezed the trigger.

His helmet was equipped with dampeners, which kept out the worst of the noise. His rifle barked, recoiled in his arms, and a red flower bloomed on the shoulder the creature had managed to force through the doorway. Claret poured from the wound, puddling on the floor between the doors and spattering the walls where the creature flailed. The lights flickered on and off with a nauseating frequency making the blood on the floors and walls appear almost black. The man beast let out another roar and wedged itself in the doorway so it's back was against one door. With both hands it now pushed the other door away from itself and with a shriek the doors finally parted.

The hulking beast which had once been a man stepped in through the now ruined double doors, stooping low to avoid hitting the top of his head. Blood ran from its injured shoulder down its arm to spatter on the floor. Jack was opening his mouth to speak, ready to tell Loveless to spray this motherfucker, when it charged them. Screaming an inarticulate cry of rage it ran toward them, shockingly fast for something its size. Jack barely had enough time to adjust his aim when it was on him. Almost lazily the thing swept aside the barrel of his rifle and, turning, it struck him in the abdomen with a backhanded blow that knocked Jack off his feet into the wall behind him. His head snapped back and struck the clinical white wall. Stars danced in front of his vision.

"Fuck! Jack, help!"

Jack felt like a man in a dream. His body wasn't responding quickly enough, his hands had forgotten their strength. He tried uselessly to pick up his rifle, but fumbled and dropped it. He tried to rise, but fell back again when the dizziness overtook him. The monster had Loveless pinned against the other wall, its fingers digging into the meat of Loveless' left arm. Jack watched dazed as the creature used both hands to lift Loveless off the ground.

"Motherfucker! Die!" Loveless screamed curses in the creature's face, beating at its arms in an attempt to free himself. Desperation showed on the younger man's face as the thing holding him tightened its grip, and Loveless screamed as one of the bones in his arm snapped from the pressure. Somehow though, Loveless managed to free his knife from his belt. Seven glittering inches of steel found a home in the soft meat of the creature's neck. Loveless ripped the knife free and plunged it back down. Blood spattered and flew as he stabbed over and over. With a roar, the monster pulled Loveless in close.

It looks like he's going to give him a hug. Jack thought deliriously. He was only now beginning to get back to his feet.

The creature slammed Loveless forward, back into the wall. Loveless' head rattled, his eyes rolled back from the impact. The creature drew him close, then slammed him back into the wall. The knife fell from Loveless' grip. The creature pulled him close, slammed him back. Pulled him close. Slammed him back.

Jack drew his side arm, using the wall at his back to support himself. He fired all twelve shots into the things back, it stopped, dropping Loveless' to the floor. When it turned to face him Jack's breath caught in his throat. Loveless' had carved the things neck and throat into ribbons, one eye had been stabbed and now dangled sickly from the socket. Jack was trying to reload his pistol, but his hands were still clumsy and slow to respond. A deafening boom filled the corridor, and then another, and then yet another. Craters appeared on the monster's torso, right shoulder, and finally half of its face was blown away. Jack turned to see Crowley, firing his shotgun from a kneeling position beside the now open door. Holmes was beside him, still seated, firing his own sidearm. Crowley moved to Jack, slinging his shotgun and helping Jack to his feet. Holmes was struggling to rise as well.

"Holmes, are you good to move? Let's get Loveless and finish this shit."

Crowley was the one to respond. "Uh yeah Jack, I don't think he's gonna be getting out of here." He motioned to Loveless.

Loveless' head was a ruin. He'd been slammed into the wall over and over with such force that his skull had been smashed into a bloody pulp. Without being aware he was doing so, Jack absently rubbed a hand against the back of his helmet.

That would be me right now if not for my helmet. Gotta stick with this manufacturer for sure.

He shook his head as if to shake off the thought. Jack retrieved his rifle, but tossed it aside with a grunt of frustration. Somehow the barrel had been noticeably bent. Jack reloaded his pistol, noting to himself that the smooth action of the slide failed to bring its usual satisfaction.

Well, given the circumstances.

Crowley had returned to the door, he fished a large data-pad out of the midnight blue duster he wore. He tapped rapidly on the screen and the door slid open. The transition from the hallway, with its flashing amber emergency lights and the klaxon alarm, into the sterile lab was jarring to say the least. The lab space had been designed as an octagonal room. Large didn't even begin to describe the size. Bright, sterile white walls gave backdrop to the stainless steel equipment, multi-level workstations were neatly set up across the majority of the space. They hustled, as best they could, inside the lab. Jack turned to Crowley.

"Get that door sealed back. No telling how long it'll take to find what we're after in this…" he gestured around himself, arms wide "but with all that noise something is sure to come snooping."

"And quickly if you don't mind." A new voice, female. From above, in the one the workstations.

Jack, Crowley, and Holmes each snapped their respective weaponry toward the direction of the speaker. A figure moved behind a bank of computer screens, stepping around to give them a clear view.

"I am Dr. Catherine Johnson. I believe I am what you are here to find." Her voice rang off the geometric walls. High and full of authority.

Regal almost. She has a…handsome voice for a woman. Jack thought as he kept an IR dot firmly on her forehead.

Crowley muttered something under his breath but began his work of sealing the electronic locks.

"Miss Johnson." Jack began.

"Doctor Johnson, if you don't mind.

"Doctor Johnson. My name is Jack Hudson, I'm part of the retrieval team sent by Yutani Corp. My men and I are tasked with bringing you, and whatever material you deem vial, back to a predetermined rendezvous point.

"Ah yes. I received a communique just prior to your departure from the…what was it." She glanced down at the data pad she held. "The Shangris. As I recall, it is a classified Prowler class cruiser."

She turned, leaving Jack to stare up at the back of her lab coat. He noted the neat bun in which she wore her hair.

Auburn hair looks like. Dark brown eyes to match. Careful Jack.

His helmet's facial recognition suite had activated the second he made visual contact with Doctor Johnson and when she'd turned her back he brought up the personnel photo his intrusion software package had returned.

"Athena." Her voice rang out from above. "Run Protocol: Red Ring. Authorization: Johnson Catherine Elizabeth ZERO-EIGHT-ONE-TWO-TWO DASH ZERO-FOUR-ONE-DELTA."

"Authorization accepted. Protocol recognized. Proceeding. Estimated time until purge completion: Eight minutes."

This new voice was deeper than the Doctor's own, female still for a certainty but deeper, more regal. Jack began to climb the series of narrow steps to Johnson's work station. This workstation, like so many he'd seen before, was typical brain space. Neat, orderly, personal reminders on cute note cards stickied here and there. On one arm of the Doctor's angled desk was a holo projector. A small woman, made entirely of light, stood wrapped in a simple toga. The woman, the light, the toga she wore, all were made of a pale orange light, various shades for her skin and hair and yet another orange all together for her long hair.

"That's an A.I." Jack said, not questioning. "But I've never seen an A.I., not like this anyway.

Doctor Johnson regarded him for a moment, her head slightly cocked.

Good luck reading anything but the exterior of my helmet, gal.

Jack's armor served a multitude of functions. Primarily protection from nearly any kind of foreseeable damage, though to varying degrees. For example, his armor was outstanding at deflecting blade based attacks, and quite good at standing up to traditional ballistics. He had spare plates for sections damaged on mission and could repair any section within ten minutes given proper tools and equipment. His helmet was custom top to bottom. It had started as a special operations close-quarter-combat advanced helmet system. He'd removed the armored guards around the forehead and cheeks leaving a large, rounded visor of silver reflective material. Over weeks he carved into that reflective visor and the end result was the face of a demon, a skull, some monster with empty round eyes and a mouth full of sharp teeth pulled back into what could only be a smile. Jack himself saw a grinning skull, and when he wore the helmet his eyes would be behind those empty sockets. Crowley had supplied the smiling demon. The rest had come in time. Fear, intimidation, those were also functions of his gear.

But Doctor Catherine Johnson stared straight into Jack's visor. Locking eyes with the demon.

"Yes." She finally spoke, her eyes never leaving Jack's eyes. He thought she would say no more, until she did.

"Athena is a fourth generation fully independent Artificial Intelligence suite. She was charged with helping me conduct our little…dark symphony, if you'll allow me that poetic indulgence. She helped me develop the overall criteria for testing viability within our…stock of candidates.

"Which reminds me, Apollo, you should be online by now."

A voice over the loudspeakers. Male, it's tone spiced with gruff Mediterranean style. "Yes mitéra. I've been listening since they made entry into the lab. Per my operating protocol I have already begun backing up and simultaneously compressing the data stored within the shared lab drives. Per your secondary directive I have begun the same process on the data on the servers within your personal workstation albeit encrypting the final compressed product, per the protocol." The Artificial Intelligence simulated a sigh over the speakers. Protocol 3 is underway as well. Host crystal receiving at rates we didn't quite anticipate. Estimated time until completion: twelve minutes."

Jack had heard enough. He didn't know exactly what he'd heard, but he knew he'd heard goddamned enough of it.

"Alright lady. I —"

"Doctor Catherine Johnson." She cut in.

"Okay, Doctor Cahtherine Johnson. I don't know how long you've been in here, I'm assuming the two whole weeks it took us to get here at least. Things are bad beyond those doors. It's a nightmare as a matter of fact."

"Candid talk from someone who chooses to wear a smiling skull for a face."

Jack didn't have time for this. He opened a private channel with Crowley and Holmes. His helmet would automatically disengage the external speakers. She wouldn't hear him, but it would be obvious he was speaking.

"Guys, We've got about ten minutes to get this place rigged to blow. Set the charges, give us twenty minutes. That should be plenty. Let's move!"

He turned back to the Doctor, and did the only thing he thought might truly catch her off guard. He removed his helmet. The seals hissed as he tapped the commands into his gauntlet, and then he slipped his head free. Cradling the helmet beneath his left arm he looked her in the eye.

"That helmet just saved my life a few minutes ago. There's a guy out in that hallway who didn't wear one, you'll see. I heard your bots say a couple of numbers, twelve minutes being the latest and that was a couple of minutes ago. My guys are setting up det-charges all around this place as we speak, those are the other half of our orders. Now, I suggest you go around and gather whatever it is you may need. Because as soon as those two A.I confirm your data is safe and ready to be moved, and those charges are placed we're out."

Doctor Johnson turned her back to him, her dark bun shifting slightly at the sharpness of the gesture.

"And, Doctor, one more thing if you don't mind."

She turned, an eyebrow cocked.

"Athena, Apollo. What's up with your A.I., fan of Greek mythology?"

"Mr. Hudson. If you manage to get me out alive through this…nightmare I will tell you about my Artificial Intelligence. And perhaps you will tell me why you chose a skull."