This was supposed to come out during October around Halloween, but between school and, must I say it... the Election, I quickly ran out of time and this was pushed way, way back. I'm not sure now I'll be able to finish this story before the end of the year, but I'm going to try. No promises though since I absolutely don't want to rush this thing.
Considering the immense amount of time that has passed since the last update, I've already gone around and responded to pretty much all of the reviews via PM, so I think I'll hold off and review responses here for now.
I will continue with the favorite and follow mentions however. Since last time we've picked up a few new people, thanks go out to Jjjaden, R3qu13m0f50ul5 for following, as well as to Avengewholocked, Chris c3po and Bocheiro for favoriting. Finally, big thanks go out to Fenrir Wylde Razgriz for the favorite and the follow.
Alright, lets jump back in.
"They're coming! Oh god I can hear them, scratching at the walls... that awful chittering. No, get back! NOO-"- Directorate Historical Recording From the Eastern Arbat Virus Bombing Offensive
Ancient KND Central Command Bunker: Primary Sub-Level Access
Schmitt and Nigel rode the lift down to the lower sub-levels in silence... well almost silence, Schmitt was still fuming about the security breach. He had his hands clasped behind his back and was starring intently at the wall, apparently lost in thought, while Nigel leaned against the side railing and quietly gave his S.C.A.M.P.P. a quick once over. "Have you made any progress yet", Schmitt suddenly yelled at the wall. The disembodied electronic voice of Ares answered him from the lift's loudspeaker, "progress is slow going, the AI has consolidated its control over the mainframe and is quickly adapting to my cyber attacks, wait hold on..."
While Ares paused to take in the new information, Nigel finished inspecting his weapon. Everything seemed to be in order, so he slung it over his shoulder and unsheathed the sword bayonet on his hip. Since he usually fought with his fists, he hadn't thought to grab a close quarters weapon back at Patton's base or even from the armory for that matter. After realizing this, Schmitt had tossed him the Legion issue bayonet he'd grabbed earlier. It hadn't mattered to him, he had the void blade now.
Nigel gently ran his thumb down the length of the blade, testing its edge. Shooting people was one thing, Nigel felt he could deal with that, but having to end someone's life while they were a foot from your very face was quite something else. I'm not sure I'm ready to go through that again, he thought back to the battle for the Arctic Base.
"I should have left you with the others", Schmitt said suddenly. Nigel shot him an irritable glance, "would you quit reading my thoughts! I'm prepared for it this time, I won't freeze up again, I promise." "That's not it", Schmitt passed a hand over his eyes, "this is something I should be doing alone." Nigel eyed him curiously, "why?" Schmitt adjusted his cap, "lets just say you're not the only one getting some form of closure out of this." That grabbed Nigel's attention, "you know someone from that squad?" Schmitt's only response was an irritated grunt, he didn't even turn to look at Nigel, "none of this is turning out like I'd hoped."
Nigel curiosity was piqued, "its that Spec-ops commander isn't it? He's ex-Directorate." Schmitt raised an eyebrow, "how'd you know that?" Nigel grinned, "I saw him in your memories, he was at the last battle for this facility wasn't he?" Schmitt muttered something unintelligent under his breath, out loud he said, "that's none of your concern." Nigel rolled his eyes, "fine, be that way, but you could at least fill me in on what this vault is, you've been mentioning it ever since we got here but I still don't have a clear idea of what its supposed to be."
Schmitt grumbled a little at that, "fair enough", he admitted, grudgingly, "the Vault is less of an actual safe and more of a codename. As you know, during the Great Revolution this base served as the primary R&D facility for the Directorate military, as a result, blueprints and research data on all the Directorate's projects since the first days of the war were stored here. In the final year of the war, when it became apparent that our defeat was inevitable, Directorate High Command instituted what would become known as the Apocalypse Protocol, a final set of standing orders designed to insure that the Directorate survived the war."
"Part of the protocol called for the retrieval or destruction of all traces of Directorate technology, in order to prevent any of it from falling into the hands of the adults." Schmitt gestured at the walls around them, "what weapons and technologies that were salvaged were consolidated here at Site 32, which is precisely why the adults laid siege to it for four months. To prevent the adults from gaining access to these technologies, the base defense forces moved all the stockpiles and information databases into the lower levels, which were subsequently fortified and cut off from the rest of the base. This makeshift underground fortress is what became known as the Vault."
"But what happened during the battle", pushed Nigel, "you said earlier that the base fell in the end, but the adults didn't get the technology, so what happened?" Schmitt sighed, "the adults finally managed to take the upper levels of the facility, and were were slowly pushing into the lower levels. So the base commander made an executive decision and detonated the self-destruct charges in all the upper levels of the facility. The resulting blast vaporized the invading adult forces and buried what remained of the base under hundreds of feet of dirt, sand and concrete."
He pointed upwards, "the defenders in the lower levels survived, but no one at the time knew that. The truth wasn't revealed until centuries later, when the KND Imperials excavated the base's remains and rebuilt them into their capital city." "So... what happened to the soldiers in the lower levels", Nigel asked hesitantly. Schmitt was about to respond when Ares suddenly interrupted him, "the external source has cut off its tap to the primary backup archive, I was unable to trace the origin before the connection was severed."
Schmitt slammed his fist against the wall, "DAMMIT! They must have got what they were after!" "Perhaps not entirely", remarked Ares, "while I may not have been able to sever the link myself, I was able to monitor its activity while it was in the system. The pattern of data copied and scanned as well as the abruptness of the cut off indicates that an external security measure or other form of interference terminated the connection before it could complete its work."
"That's hardly any consolation", snarled Schmitt, "continue your offensive, I want this foreign AI purged from the system before the tap can be re-established! Also I want you to go over the Legion data files, this base originally operated off a closed network, remote outside access should be impossible. If they made any modifications I want to know about it!" "At once my Autarch", intoned Ares, the loudspeaker went dead. Schmitt pulled out his sidearm and nonchalantly began conducting a brief inspection.
"I'm sure you've started to put the pieces together by this point", Schmitt said without looking up. Nigel nodded, "this whole operation is supposed to be a smash-and-grab, they storm in, deactivate the defenses and make-off with advanced Directorate tech from the Vault while no ones looking. Based on what you've shown us about the Directorate, the stuff down there makes everything their using look like peashooters." Schmitt finished his inspection and racked the slide on his snubby auto-pistol, "any Directorate knowledge the Confederates recover would be priceless beyond measure, if they manage to get it off world. But, if all they wanted was data, they wouldn't need to breach the vault at all, that means they're after something physical."
The elevator chimed and the doors finally opened onto the lower sub-levels. Schmitt and Nigel walked out into a hub of sorts, various side passages led off in this and that direction from the circular room, while a series of additional elevators were set into the wall around the hub. The dominating feature of the chamber was the set of heavy blast doors set into the far wall, much like the ones all the way back at the entrance to the bunker, except these were guarded by a quartet of automated sentry guns. The sentry guns lay silent in their cradles though and the doors were wide open, beyond which lay a dimly lit stretch of corridor that seemed to descend into utter blackness.
Nigel and Schmitt were greeted by a squad of ten Imperial soldiers as they exited the elevator. They were dressed in the Imperial fashion with subdued red and yellow uniforms and those steel roman-esque combat helmets. Each had a strange, blocky looking gauntlet on his left arm and was armed with a stubby auto-rifle and long bladed sword bayonet. Most surprisingly, two of them seemed to be carrying what appeared to be a bloodied Confederate soldier.
The squad leader saluted Schmitt in the Imperial fashion, "Air Commander 1B7, sir!" Schmitt returned the gesture with a half salute of his own, "who's this", he asked, gesturing to the Confederate prisoner. The squad leader glanced at the bloodied captive, "the Supreme Praetor ordered our forces to sweep the lower areas that had been breached before diverting to this location, this was the only intruder that we found that was still conscious." The squad leader shot an ugly look at the captive soldier, "he was waiting for us, damned near killed two of my men before we managed to subdue him."
"How many others", demanded Schmitt, "our sweep uncovered twenty five neutralized intruders", reported the squad leader, "though a second team was dispatched to their point of entry, additional prisoners are to be expected, but we have no solid numbers yet." Schmitt gestured to the sole Confederate, "bring him over here." The squad leader gestured to his two men, who roughly dragged the Confederate over to him. Schmitt looked down at the battered soldier, "I presume you know who I am?"
The soldier, a private, looked at Schmitt and spat in his face. Schmitt casually wiped the trail of spittle off his cheek, "I assume that means yes, Argus Litz." "Read that from my mind, did you", grunted the private. Schmitt's expression grew somber, "I don't need special powers to remember the names of the eight thousand boys and girls I sent to die on that plateau." "Sent us to die", spat the private, "more like left us to die! We held out for two days, TWO DAYS! But you ignored us and ran away, stranding us on that godforsaken rock!"
Schmitt looked puzzled, "We never received any distress calls, I assumed you all died in the attack-" "That's a load of bull", yelled the soldier, "you abandoned us, admit it!" "Take him upstairs and see that he gets his wounds treated", ordered Schmitt. The two guards saluted and then dragged Litz into the nearest elevator; Litz stared daggers at the admiral until the doors finally closed. Schmitt ran a hand through his hair, he looked more than a little disconcerted. He quickly regained his composure though and gestured to the remaining soldiers, "alright, we're going down there, lock, load and be ready for anything."
The troops saluted and began moving towards the entrance. Nigel glanced at Schmitt, he still looked a little put off, "something up?" Schmitt shook his head, "its... its nothing." Nigel raised an eyebrow at that, he'd never seen the admiral this unsettled before, it was unnerving and also a little bit gratifying at the same time. Schmitt ignored Nigel's pointed expression and began walking towards the vault entrance. The Imperial soldiers flicked on the under slung flashlights on their stubby auto-rifles and began to file into the passageway beyond. Schmitt and Nigel fell in with them, weapons drawn, as they descended into the darkness.
C.W.S. Mandate: Command Bridge
Arthurs sat alone on the command bridge, reviewing the data he had gathered. His ten minute window had run out much quicker than expected, and the supercomputer's security measures had severed his connection before the download could be completed. The data he had wasn't even close to the amount he'd hoped for, it wasn't even half that. Still, for what it was, it would do, besides, he thought, the most important piece of the puzzle has yet to be recovered any way.
Far below him, the Confederate assault force was still busy finishing off the remaining survivors of the adult defense force, while teams of combat engineers moved in to begin demolishing the base itself. Captain Landon was busy dealing with the mop-up operation, but he had alerted him to an interesting development. Apparently the motley fleet of teen ships that had been sighted before the attack leaving harbor had changed course and was now heading towards the shores of eastern Russia. Arthurs had scrambled a few scout squadrons to keep tabs on their movements, but had otherwise let them go.
The actions of a few scattered teen rebels were inconsequential at this point. Besides, when they finally made it to Russia, they'd encounter the Confederate forces that had landed there days earlier, and that would be the end of it. In the meantime, he had other business to attend to. Using the temporary connection between the Moonbase and Site 32 as a trail, his ship's logistical AI had managed to pinpoint the exact location of the ancient base. Arthurs put in a quick call to Occupation Zone #1. Colonel Roger's face popped up on the view screen, "Field Commander sir, this a surprise. I take it things are going well in Alaska?" Arthurs flashed him a self satisfied smirk, "of course, granted they put up a decent fight this time. We're busy mopping them up right now. That aside, I have new orders for you Colonel."
Roger snapped off a dutiful salute, "I stand ready Commander, your orders?" Arthurs tapped a few keys on his command console, forwarding the necessary reports over to Roger's terminal, "one of my operatives has pinpointed the location of Site 32, I am sending you the coordinates and relevant data now. You are to take the reserve forces at Occupation Zone #1 as well as the 2nd Support Battle Group and secure the base immediately. Afterwards I am transferring you to direct command of the 2nd Support Battle Group." "Direct command...", Roger hesitated, "sir, do you mean..." "Yes, its all processed and officiated, per your recommendation, Colonel Toland will be left in charge of Zone #1 following your transfer. Congratulations are in order, Sub-Commander, don't let me down."
Roger snapped off another, much more enthusiastic salute, "of course Commander, I won't fail you." Arthurs cut the communication and leaned back in his chair, that one certainly has ambition, he thought to himself, I suppose that's not surprising considering his origins. He still had one more call to make before all was said and done though. He keyed in the frequency for lunar command.
KND Moonbase: Central Mainframe
Bartie could feel the eyes of the Confederate sentries boring into his back as he leaned over the central access terminal. He'd only been back up here for a few hours and he was already having second thoughts about this deal. He'd been in here for two hours now, and this was the fourth time he'd logged the Field Commander back into the mainframe. He was beginning to wonder just what exactly Arthurs was after in their files.
Behind him one of the sentries suddenly pressed a finger to the side of his helmet, he seemed to be listening to something. He suddenly cut the connection and started forward, "new orders Stork, the Commander wants you back in your cell ASAP." "Is that it, did he get what he wanted?" The guard shrugged, "he didn't say, now start walking." One of them grabbed him by the shoulder and guided him towards the door.
He brushed the kid off and headed out of the room, the two sentries fell in directly behind him. The Confederates had cleaned the base up considerable since the 1st day of the invasion, they'd even started to move some of their own equipment in to replace the KND tech destroyed in the initial assault. He hadn't been up here since that fateful first day, the day he'd lost...
He screwed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, he'd cried enough about that after they'd first tossed him in his cell on the Mandate. In his dreams he could still hear the Confederate sergeant's shrill screech and the discharge of rifles as they... Don't think about it, don't think about it, he chided himself. "Keep moving", one of the guards shoved him from behind with his rifle, "no dawdling." "Ah whats the rush", the other admonished, "its not like we've got anything better to do."
"That's what pisses me off", snapped the other, "we could be down on the surface fighting adults right now. But no, we got stuck on this crap rear echelon detail instead. I was so looking forward to telling my sister what Earth looked like too." "We'll get down there eventually", the other casually swung his rifle over his shoulder, "haven't you heard, they've started pushing out of Mercia now. Arbats next on the Commander's list. Pretty soon it'll be..."
Bartie tuned out the guard's chit-chat and began analyzing his surroundings. He knew this base better than any of the soldiers on-board, if he could just get away from the guards there were zillions of places he could hide. He just had to pick the right place to make a break for it. There was a junction near the base's detention center, right down the hallway from that was a maintenance access chute. The guards hadn't cuffed his hands, but they'd be more than willing to put a round through his back if he gave them any trouble.
He glanced casually over his shoulder and saw they were still engaged in their conversation. He saw the turn coming up, he'd have one chance. They were twenty feet from the junction when he made his move. Bartie bolted down the corridor and towards the corner at break neck speed. He heard the guards swear and give chase, but he was already darting around the corner by the time they noticed his absence. He rounded the corner... and ran smack into another Confederate trooper.
The force of the blow knocked both of them to the deck, Bartie struggled to untangle his arms and legs from the dazed soldier. Suddenly he felt the cold touch of gun barrel against the back of his head, "nice try Stork." He was hauled roughly to his feet by one of the sentries while the other stooped to help the fallen trooper. "Sorry bought that lad", the sentry apologized, "little issue with the prisoner here." "No worries", responded the fallen trooper, strange, thought Bartie, that voice sounds familiar.
The other trooper picked something off the deck he'd dropped in the tumble, "would you mind if I have a go at him, little son of a gun scratched my armor." The two sentries looked at each other, "I don't see why not", chuckled the larger one, "great", exclaimed the trooper, grabbing Bartie roughly by the scruff of the neck, "hold this please." He tossed the larger of the two guards the item they'd dropped.
The guard stared at it, puzzled, "what the hell is this?" Bartie saw the object and his eyes widened. Instinctively, he screwed his eyes shut and shielded his face. The L.E.M.O.N.A.D.E. went off with a muffled bang, spraying concentrated lemon juice all over the hallway. The two sentries, who hadn't been wearing full faced helmets, caught the worst of it and immediately doubled over as the concentrated acidic juices met their unsuspecting eyes.
Bartie's unexpected savior was already hustling him down the corridor to the maintenance chute he'd been planning on using earlier. The trooper tore the flimsy access cover off and beckoned to him, "come on, more will be here soon!" Bartie hesitated for moment, "just who are you?!" The trooper removed their helmet and tossed it into the chute. Bartie gasped, "its you..." Without a second thought, he gripped the trooper's hand, and together they plunged feet first into the shaft.
Confederate Occupied Zone #1: Outer Perimeter Foothills
Beyond the fortified walls of Occupation zone #1 lay the open countryside of Virginia, what was left of it anyway. The Confederates had taken extra care to leave absolutely no cover that could be exploited by insurgent scouts and had systematically burned away the foliage and remaining natural formations with prolonged artillery bombardment and incendiary strikes. No one could approach the perimeter on foot with being spotted and gun downed by one of the numerous snipers, automated turrets or long range guns stationed on the perimeter.
Of course, that was only if someone was stupid enough to actually APPROACH the perimeter. Thankfully the KND had learned from that mistake after the first few days of the invasion. That was why today, like almost everyday since Numbah 60 had decided to help the Tolietnator run his little resistance operation, Numbah 149 was camped out on a C.L.O.U.D.C.O.V.E.R. far away from the perimeter with a grouchy adult copilot to keep him company.
"Damn this thing is tiny", the adult had been complaining non-stop since takeoff, "not even trainer planes are this small!" The Texan operative rolled his eyes behind his aviator's goggles, "this thing is meant for just one person, we're lucky it flies at all between me and that big butt of yours." The adult air force officer scowled, "I can't believe this jury rigged hunk of wood and duck tape even made it off the ground, and you expect me to believe that you kids can go orbital in these things? Feh!" Numbah 149 ignored him and continued sweeping the Occupied Zone with his scope. "Hey, there's a lot of movement down there today."
The adult officer momentarily forget their little squabble and whipped out his pair of binoculars, "looks like they're loading the transport ships, cargo shipment?" "Cargo shipments don't normally require that many armored vehicles", Numbah 149 indicated the ranks of assault mechs and heavy tanks being loaded onto the transports. Suddenly the sole light cruiser docked at the zone's airfield gunned its thrusters and began to ascend into the clouds above. A pair of frigates and several attack corvettes followed it up, with the transports slowly tailing behind. "They're mobilizing", realized Numbah 149, "you think we've been had?" The air force officer shook his head, "they wouldn't send this much just to put down a rebel cell, this looks like they're gearing up for another offensive."
Without warning the small formation of Confederate ships surged forwards in their direction. Numbah 149 and his unwelcome guest instinctively ducked their heads as the warships passed overhead, the massive pillars of steel roared by and even from here Numbah 149 could feel the backwash off their engines. He prayed to god, Numbah zero and whatever other great beings were listening that whatever sensors they had on board would miss their tiny little observation craft hidden in the sea of clouds. The ships above either didn't see them or didn't care, they rocketed by, heading far out towards the west.
"That many ships and transports would constitute nearly the entire defense garrison", remarked the adult officer, "which means-" "The zone is practically wide open", finished Numbah 149 with a grin. This was the opportunity they'd been waiting for, but they'd have to move fast if they wanted to put Numbah 60's plan into action. He grasped the controls and began to swing them back towards the location of their new camp.
They couldn't risk using phones or radio up here, as the Confederates had an annoying tendency to pick up and trace any errant signals that weren't theirs. Several other recon teams had unfortunately found this out the hard way, direct contact was the only way to securely deliver messages now. Numbah 149 gunned the engine's to max speed and the tiny craft sped off into the endless sea of clouds.
The Vault: Upper Levels
The corridor past the main entrance to the Vault went on for quite a ways, gently sloping down, deeper into the Earth. Nigel immediately noticed several key changes as they passed the threshold of the entrance. While the walls and floor of the bunker above were made entirely out of concrete and reinforced re-bar, the walls and ceiling of the vault were made entirely of some kind of reinforced metal plating, painted a dark grey color. The floor remained concrete, but there was something different about it, it had a darker color and looked more composite than the thick bland slabs of rock in the base above.
Then there was the air. The air in the bunker above was clean, a tad bit thin, but clean. The air down here wasn't thin at all, if anything the quality was like that on the surface. But the smell, the air down here was stale and musty, the kind of smell you'd get walking into an old abandoned house. While the base above had been lit by bright yellow lamps and overhead fixtures, the only light down here came from a series of dull red light strips set into walls that ran the length of the hallway.
Once they were past the threshold, Schmitt gave swift orders, "alright, we get in and get out fast. Watch your corners, stay together and above all else, tread lightly. There's plenty of things down here we don't want to disturb." "I thought you guys stockpiled weapons down here", questioned Nigel, "whats there to disturb?" "Not all those weapons were... lets say, just objects", admitted Schmitt, "this bunker is home to many monsters, both figuratively and literally." He didn't say anything after that and they kept on moving down the corridor.
In the distance, Nigel could see the end of the corridor, which terminated at another set of doubled doors, similar to the ones at the front entrance. As the group drew closer to the doors though, Nigel could see that something here was definitely wrong. One of the doors was missing completely, and as the legionaries flashlights played across the entrance, Nigel could see torn metal and burn marks in the walls. Something had blasted its way through the entrance. In front of the remaining door was a makeshift gun nest made out of some kind of prefab ceramic material, an abandoned heavy weapon sat idly inside.
As the flashlights continued to play across the walls and floor, Nigel began to notice details, spent shell casings littered the ground, the armored walls were covered with small pock marks and gouges and what looked very much like dried blood coated the barricade in various places. "I was afraid of this", Nigel heard Schmitt mutter under his breathe. Without warning he rushed forward, past the detritus at the entrance and into the chamber beyond.
Nigel and the others rushed after him, but what they saw as they entered the room beyond stopped them dead in their tracks. The room beyond was filled with bodies, dozens of them, splayed out across the floor, heaped against the walls and thrown over barricades. What was worse was that they weren't skeletons, or even rotting corpses, they were fresh, Nigel could even see blood still dripping from some of them. He felt his bile start to rise, and it was only with a great effort that he managed to force it back down.
The other legionaries looked similarly disconcerted as they wandered around the room inspecting the carnage. Nigel forced himself to look beyond the bodies and see the details in his surroundings. Shell casings and empty magazines littered the floor, and there were pock marks and gouges all over the walls like outside. Blood was everywhere, on the ground, on the walls, dripping from crates, there were even splash marks on the ceiling in some places. The room was fairly large, around the size of an indoor basketball court, but with a lower ceiling. Judging by the stacks of cargo and makeshift barricades made out of crates, this had been a loading dock at one point. Nigel saw several other smaller doors ringing the walls of the rectangular room, as well as a series of strange looking cylindrical devices set into the far left side wall.
He saw Schmitt kneeling beside one of the corpses near the entrance and began walking towards him. Suddenly something cracked under his foot, causing him to glance down. He'd stepped on the hand of the one the bodies splayed out across the floor. The man's torso had a gaping hole in it, his flesh was scorched and cauterized and his skin was pale white. The man's empty, dead eyes stared up at him from behind the smashed remains of a some kind of sealed combat helmet. Nigel felt his bile rise to critical levels and stepped back a few paces.
"Relax, its just a body", Nigel glanced up and saw Schmitt staring over at him. He stole a peek back down at the man's corpse, but quickly averted his eyes, "wha... what is this?" Schmitt gestured around the room, "the stasis fields freeze moments in time from the second they are activated. This whole bunker is a little pocket of forgotten history." Schmitt walked over to where Nigel was standing and glared down at the corpse, "one of the old enemy", he muttered darkly, "upstairs the Great War is ancient history, a thousand years dead and gone. But down here..."
Schmitt turned and surveyed the ranks of dead men, "down here the war is still fresh." Nigel took another look at the piles of bodies and began to see details forming. There were two sides on display here, one was obviously the kids of the Old Directorate. They were a mixture of kids and teens, dressed in stone grey uniforms and sporting form fitting suits of blocky black body armor. The other side were adults, like the one currently beneath Nigel's boot heel. They were all dressed in fatigues with some sort of tannish brown camouflage, they had minimal armor but all wore enclosed combat helmets and what appeared to be vacuum sealed suits for some reason. There were also at least twice as many of their corpses as there were Directorate bodies.
Some of the legionaries began picking through the dead, a few even went to grab some of the dead soldiers' discarded weapons. "LEAVE THEM", Schmitt barked and the legionaries backed off. The admiral stooped down to one of the dead Directorate soldiers and solemnly closed the boys eyes, "some things are better left where they lie." Nigel glanced at the dead adults, "I thought you said all the adult soldiers died when they blew up the base?" "I said I knew that the base defenders survived the blast", corrected Schmitt, "the Vault itself has been sealed since the end of the war, no one really knows what happened down here."
Nigel let him be and walked over to inspect the other doors on the far side of the room. One door in particular caught his attention, a trio of dead Directorate soldiers were slumped against its frame and the door itself was bulged outward, like someone had pried it open. "Over here", he called and Schmitt and the others came running. "Do you think the adults did this", asked Nigel, indicating the doorway. Schmitt ran a hand over the bent and twisted metal, "no, but this was definitely done by hand, looks relatively recent too."
"Then we're on the right track", Nigel grinned, and pushed on through, the rest of the squad began filing through the opening after him. Something else caught Schmitt's eye and he crouched down for a closer inspection. There were long scratches or grooves, cut into the face of the door... from the other side. The Admiral glared long and hard into the darkness ahead, before hesitantly following them inside. As they wove their way deeper into the complex they began passing many sealed storage rooms, barred with heavy doors and marked in some unreadable script. "Written Anhurian", Schmitt pointed out after they passed the first doorway, "the original language of the Directorate." "That's the language you and that AI were using", Nigel guessed, "right?"
Schmitt nodded his agreement, "English, the language you people use, was known as Mercian back then. It was the common language of the continent, but Anhurian was the formal tongue of the National Republic, so we adopted it as our primary language during the Revolution." Nigel noticed Schmitt seemed abnormally alert, his head was constantly checking every corner, every shadow and each time they came to an intersection his whole body seemed to tense up. Schmitt was probably just expecting the Confederates to set an ambush for them down here, Nigel reasoned. Even so, his behavior was making him more and more uneasy.
As they wove their way deeper into the facility, they found signs of battle damage everywhere. Discarded weapons, ammunition and dead bodies littered the floors in various places, and every so often they'd come across a caved in corridor, where the walls were covered with blast marks. "The adults fought hard", observed Nigel, "I'm surprised they managed to make it this far." "Hopefully they didn't make it any further", commented Schmitt, "this area comprises the outer defenses of the Vault, non-essential equipment was kept out here. The areas below this, the inner layer, is where..."
Schmitt halted mid sentence as the legionary on point suddenly stopped and raised his fist. The rest of the squad halted immediately and began intently scanning the darkness ahead, rifles raised. "What have you got", demanded Nigel, "I thought I heard something", the legionary reported, "it was faint, but it sounded like someone running off in that direction", he pointed down a dimly lit stretch of corridor on their right. Nigel raised an eyebrow, "could be the Confederates, keep your eyes peeled." The legionary nodded, he looked incredibly uneasy though. Nigel gave the boy a comforting pat on the shoulder before making his way back over to Schmitt.
Schmitt was crouched over one of the many corpses lying in the corridor, "said he heard footsteps off in that direction", reported Nigel, pointing, "I assume that means they've got an ambush set up down that way?" "Possibly", remarked Schmitt, "possibly not." He motioned for Nigel to come closer and suddenly pulled him down to eye level. In a hushed voice he whispered, "something isn't right here." "What is", Nigel whispered back, "look we need to keep moving or the Confederates-" Schmitt shook his head vigorously, he seemed genuinely concerned now, "I've been reaching out with my mind ever since we got down here, trying to get a read on where they are, but something is interfering with my senses. Something is blocking me."
That shut Nigel up, "how is that possible", he demanded quietly, "the Confederates-" "Its not the Confederates", insisted Schmitt. His eyes were frantically flitting from shadow to shadow, "...something else is following us." Schmitt looked him square in the eyes and it was then that Nigel saw something that made him freeze. He had seen the Admiral go toe to toe with battled hardened KND operatives, Confederate shock troopers and even Father himself without batting an eyelash; nothing ever fazed him, regardless of the enemy or the circumstances. But now, in the bowels of this ancient facility, surrounded by old corpses and the creeping darkness; for the first time, Nigel saw fear, true fear in the admiral's eyes, and that terrified him more than anything.
He laid a heavy hand on the Admiral's shoulder, "what else could be down here?" Schmitt kept glancing around nervously, "I don't know, there's any number of possibilities." "Such as", Nigel pressed, "trust me, you don't want to know", Schmitt insisted. That answer did little to ease Nigel's nerves, but he knew that if he pressed the point, he'd get nothing out of him. "We keep moving then", he decided, "the Confederates already have a lead on us, we can handle whatever's down here!" He signaled to the rest of the squad and they continued advancing down the hallway. Schmitt grabbed his shoulder, "just keep it quiet", he whispered, "and keep on your toes."
They continued their advance deeper into the base, here and there the corridor began branching off into what Nigel could tell were larger storage rooms. They passed by more sealed doorways, hazard marked containers and the detritus of battle. Finally, after maneuvering their way way through several more corridors, the group rounded a corner and found themselves face to face with a massive makeshift wall. The structure was a hodgepodge of prefab barricades, cargo crates and various other bits of equipment that seemed to have been thrown together at the last minute. It completely blocked the corridor, or it would have that is, if there wasn't a massive hole torn out of of its center.
The group approached the breach apprehensively, the legionaries stacked up on either side of the entrance and motioned for permission to storm the breach. Nigel readied his S.C.A.M.P.P. and gave the signal to advance, the legionaries rushed through the breach in quick order. A few moments passed as the legionaries assessed the space beyond, finally someone called out, "ALL CLEAR", and Nigel and Schmitt stepped through the barricade into the room beyond. The room was massive, easily the size and height of baseball stadium, numerous landing pads were set into the floor in neat rows across the room, though none were occupied. Set into the walls above were large spaces that appeared to be maintenance and repair bays for whatever aircraft this bay had once serviced. Large magnetic cranes were set into the walls in several places for moving material around, several cargo lifts sat in each corner of the room for access to the upper levels and set into the wall on the far side of the room was a massive blast door that spanned nearly the entire width and length of the chamber.
It was eerily quiet, the entire room was littered with bodies, kid and adult alike, many of which were piled near the makeshift barricade. Nigel noticed two other makeshift barricades, one at each entrance into the chamber, only one of the them was still standing, but each was heaped with bodies just like this one. The legionaries began to fan out across the cavernous space, sweeping through the field of corpses. Nigel walked over to Schmitt, who was surveying the area, "must have been a last stand", he remarked, "judging by the bodies I'd say the adult's advance stopped here."
"These men weren't fighting each other", Schmitt replied quietly, he gestured at the corpses on the barricade, "look at the way they've fallen, each of these soldiers was manning the barricade when they died and theres no sign of struggle between the corpses, not like the bodies at the entrance." Nigel inspected the bodies and as much as he wanted to deny it, Schmitt was right. Whatever had killed these men was neither kid nor adult, but it scared both to such an extent, that even as sworn enemies, they had died fighting side by side against it.
Nigel swept his gaze around the room, the lighting in here was even worse than in the corridors, most of the service bays were shrouded in shadows and the far corners of the room were equally darkened. Couple with the multiple entrances, this place was perfect for an ambush. "Can we reach the lower levels from here", Nigel asked quietly, Schmitt nodded, "this was a service bay for aircraft, that hatch behind us should lead into a larger access shaft that leads down into the lower levels." "Wheres the control booth", he demanded and Schmitt pointed to a small control station on the far side of the hanger. Nigel signaled the legionaries to form up around the control booth.
"Umm sir", one of them called out, "your going to want to take a look at this." Schmitt and Nigel hustled over, "oh shit", the entire control booth was blown to hell. The station was a mess of melted glass, burned wiring and slagged metal, "somebody hit this with a thermite grenade", noted Schmitt. Nigel noticed there were half melted piles of metal and something... squishy coating the floor of the station. The squishy stuff smelled awfully like burnt flesh.
Nigel quickly abandoned that train of thought, "can we still open the door", he demanded. "I'll have to run a bypass and open it manually", Schmitt tore off an access panel on the wall next to the control booth and began fiddling with the internals. He grimaced, "this could take time, go cover the-", "SIR", yelled one of the legionaries, "I'VE GOT A LIVE ONE OVER HERE!" Schmitt immediately abandoned the access panel and vaulted over the control station towards the shouting legionary.
The legionary was attempting to manhandle one of the bodies out of the pile and the "corpse" seemed to fighting him. Schmitt ran over to the guy and gave him a hand, together they pulled the struggling soldier out of the pile, but as soon as he was free he started thrashing around, trying to break their grasp. "HIDE! HAVE TO HIDE! WON'T GET ME, NOT ME!" the boy was wide eyed, frantic and completely covered in blood and grit. Schmitt and legionary pinned him to the wall, "he's just a regular", commented Schmitt, "must have come down with the Spec-ops team."
He slammed a gloved hand over the boy's mouth to silence his hysterical screaming, "where is the rest of your squad", he demanded. The boy refused to calm down, he kept struggling, his eyes darted around the room from shadow to shadow. Schmitt shook him vigorously, "what did you come down here for!" The boy bit him. Schmitt cursed and his grip slackened, the boy managed to wriggle out. He darted across the room towards one of the piles of bodies, but Nigel intercepted him. The boy was about his size and he was able to grab him in a bear hug, "where are the others you came down with", he yelled in his face.
The boy kept nervously glancing towards the control station, Nigel remembered the burnt piles of metal and meat, "oh god." He let him go and the soldier dove back into one of the piles of bodies and started burrowing his way in. He barely got a foot into the pile when Schmitt levitated him back across the room "We don't have time for this", he grimaced, "I'm just going to have to read his mind." Suddenly, a bone chilling screech split the air in the quiet room, echoing across the high walls and ceiling. The screech was soon followed by another, then another and another, Nigel realized they were coming from the passageways, all three of them.
Schmitt instantly froze, "I know those screams", he whispered. The Confederate soldier started panicking and babbling over and over, "back, they're coming back." Schmitt's concentration slackened and the boy dropped to the floor. He bolted across the room and before anyone could stop him, he had squeezed out of one of the barricades and darted down the nearest passageway. He hadn't been gone long before Nigel heard a series of bloodcurdling screams echo from down the corridor.
He turned to Schmitt, "what. The HELL. Was that?!" All Schmitt said was one word, filled with dread, "Skelvaken." He bolted across the room in the opposite direction, back towards the opened access panel, "we need to get out of here, NOW", he called over his shoulder. Nigel glanced at the three exits and gave terse orders to the legionaries, "squad, form up around the control station!" The legionaries, though heavily unsettled by the screeching, dutifully snapped to obey. The squad leader gave sharp orders and the Imperial soldiers formed up in a square around the small metal platform, with Nigel and Schmitt in the center.
The legionaries snapped their sword bayonets to their guns, and extended their gauntlet arms. Out of the gauntlets extended two pieces of flexible metal that locked together forming a rectangular, body sized shield. The legionaries gripped their rifles with both hands, left arm out, forming a shield wall around the control station. Schmitt was too fixated on the control panel to fight, so Nigel drew his own weapon, attached his bayonet and moved to cover him. From there, all they could do was wait.
Nigel could hear a faint scratching sound echoing around the room, but he couldn't tell which corridor it was coming from. His eyes darted from entrance to entrance; he could feel the adrenaline beginning to rush through his veins. The legionaries seemed equally nervous, but they held their ground and kept their shields locked tight. The scratching grew louder and louder, echoing ominously off the high walls of the hanger. It made it neigh impossible to tell which entrance it was coming from.
The squad leader suddenly struck up some old Imperial marching song, though the Latin phrases were lost on Nigel. The echo of his tune clashed heavily with the ominous sounds of the approaching enemy. "Almost got it", muttered Schmitt over his shoulder, "hurry the hell up", Nigel yelled back. Something flashed in the corner of his eye, he whirled around but saw nothing.
He squinted into the darkness, he could barely see a thing on the far side of the room. He saw a blur motion off to his right, something was skirting in between the piles of dead bodies. "Over there", he called and pointed his light at it. What he saw nearly made his heart stop. It was an abomination, like some kind of alien horror torn from the pages of one of those old sci-fi novels he used to read. It was vaguely humanoid in shape, but was extremely gangly and unnaturally thin. It had two, three toed feet, each toe of which tapered off into a hooked claw and four arms, each of which ended in a similarly clawed hand. All of its limbs were double jointed and, here was the kicker, it had no eyes. Its head was a pale fleshy dome with a mouth full of needle sharp teeth, from which dripped sticky tendrils of saliva.
The thing screeched hideously as the light fell across it and darted back into the shadows. It was lightening fast, every now and then it reverted to crawling on all six limbs for an extra burst of speed. "Kill it", screamed the squad leader, "fucking kill it!" A wall of tracer fire erupted from the legionary shield wall, lighting up the gloom in the hanger. From the illumination of the gunfire, Nigel could see more of the creatures, darting back and forth through the piles of dead towards their position.
He sighted on one of the things and let off a burst from his S.C.A.M.P.P. In circumstances like these, it paid to have a laser weapon. The thing was moving at high speed, but some of his bursts hit home, he saw two shots blow holes in the things thin belly, one shot actually blew off an arm. But the thing didn't even seem to care, it just kept coming, heedless of the blood that gushed from its open wounds.
The legionaries were having even less luck. They only had ballistic rifles, which did even less damage, and what was worse was the things were actually dodging their bullets. Nigel saw one of the creatures dart forward, zig-zaging back and forth through the hail of gunfire till it was at the shield wall. Its claws raked against the Imperial's shields, sending a flurry of sparks up. One of the legionaries darted forward and thrust his bayonet through the thing's skull before emptying the rest of his magazine into it.
The horrible creature finally dropped to the deck dead, but there were plenty more of them. They kept on screeching as they barreled towards the wall. Nigel was dropping them as fast as he could, but was quickly running low on charge, "HOW MUCH LONGER", he screamed at Schmitt. "GOT IT", Schmitt yelled triumphantly and the massive hanger door began to grind open. He whipped out his side arm and began adding his auto-pistol's fire to the mix, "I've set the door to automatically close after we enter, we can't let the Skelvaken into the lower sections of the base!"
Nigel signaled to the legionaries to begin moving the wall formation into a phalanx. Several of the creatures, the so called Skelvaken, took advantage of their movements to bound their way into the formation. One of the legionaries screamed as a Skelvaken deftly thrust it's claws around his shield and buried them in his chest. Another legionary moved to assist his fallen comrade and was suddenly speared through the back by four pairs of hooked claws. The Skelvaken hurled his body into the open past the shield line, where it was quickly dismembered by several of the waiting creatures.
The legionaries were beginning to panic, but the squad leader quickly whipped them back into line. Throughout it all he kept on singing that old marching tune, several of the other legionaries actually began to join in, the tune rose in volume and tempo. The creatures were all over the place now, Nigel was firing bursts left and right and he was vaguely aware of Schmitt off to his left doing the same with his auto-pistol. They were making progress though, they were almost at the doorway, the problem was they were now in the open, with no wall to their backs.
Several of the creatures ran off to the sides, obviously intent on flanking them, but Schmitt whipped out his free hand and sent several flying back towards the far wall. The legionaries started to square up, their rifles continued to rattle off burst after burst into the writing swarm of monstrosities. Several cries of "LOW AMMO" began to sound off from around the square, suddenly one of the creatures leapt over the shield wall with inhuman strength and dived, claws outstretched, towards the vulnerable center. Schmitt, without thinking, ripped the void blade off his hip and triggered the ancient weapon, cleaving the creature in two. The neatly bisected body fell into the center of formation, spilling guts and organs out everywhere. The front half thrashed about on the deck, its claws manically slashing left and right, until Schmitt finally crushed the thing's pale white head beneath his boot heel.
They finally made it to the edge of the door, the square locked to the edges of the wall and the soldiers on the inside began to file through, while the ones on the periphery maintained the perimeter. Nigel took a second to gasp at the size of the room they'd stepped into, it was an immense diagonal shaft, hundreds of feet wide and high, reaching down into the depths of the Earth. There was little to no light in here, save for the vague outlines of other massive doors farther up and down the shaft etched out in red safety lighting, some of them set into the walls, others set into the slant of the shaft. The shaft seemed to lead off forever into the darkness, like the maw of the Earth waiting to swallow them up.
The door opened onto a small landing, at which was docked a medium sized cargo lift that straddled the width of half the shaft, Nigel could see docking brackets on the other side for another similar lift that was missing. They were almost all aboard, only two remaining legionaries held the door, which was now slowly beginning to cycle shut. Schmitt was fiddling with the controls to the lift, "almost there, everyone hurry up and get on!" We're gonna make it, thought Nigel, relief coursing through his body. The last legionary at the door let off a final burst from his rifle into the small opening that remained. He smirked and deftly swiped a grenade off his belt, "a little going away present", he yelled, pulling the pin.
A Skelvaken claw suddenly thrust out of the small opening left in the doorway and speared the soldier through the face. The closing door squished the creatures arm to pulp, but the damage was already done. The soldier was dead before he hit the ground and the now live grenade slipped out of his cold grasp. "GRENADE", screamed the legionary next to him, diving onto the lift, but he was far too late to save anyone. The explosive went off with a spectacular bang that rocked the ancient lift and sent legionaries flying left and right. The blast lifted Nigel off his feet and over the side of the platform. He grasped desperately for the guard railing as he went over, his fingers stretching to their limit.
He missed, and into the blackness he tumbled.
Thats all for tonight, hope that was long enough for everyone considering the wait, I'll try to have the next out much sooner.