“Well, that’s a wrench in the gyrosprings, right there,” Dugan said, the 33C combat Buma ‘looking over’ Madigan’s shoulder as the two shared the same suit combat datastream from their new operative. “Think she’ll freak out, dealing with ‘herself’ already?”
“Doubtful,” Madigan mused from her seat, mind absently sifting through the telemetry Galatea’s suit was sending back to them. “If she does, that’s why Jones is there to clear up things, but I was looking through Crey’s experimental logs,” she said. “They’re worse than I thought. Attempts at lowering empathy response, reaction to authority boosted… they didn’t know how to manipulate the system as it was, so they just tried to implant a full personality manipulation overlay. Some parts, by accident, hooked into the right parts… she’s probably less caring about her fellow man than Stingray, for instance. But they still wanted loyal killbots without any proper work. I’m not surprised that random mental hooks compromised the cerebral functions of the rest of her line with the mess they made of it.”
Dugan made a sound almost like a snort. “So she gives about as much a damn about killing humans as I do now, huh?” If anything, Madigan could always count on Dugan to get to the point with the subtlety of an anti-tank round.
“Stingray was always relentless and driven, from the files the Chairman provided,” she replied. “This version just doesn’t care about what it takes to achieve her goals. If the original was more like her, she would’ve gone very far in GENOM. And while the suit has none of Crey’s hardware faults… it’s still designed more for stealth than battle. If she betrays us, we have the frequencies to neutralize her cloaking advantage.”
“You still didn’t answer my question about dealing with her batchmate,” Dugan noted.
“If my estimate is correct, I think this new Sylia Stingray is about the last person that Galatea wanted to deal with today,” Madigan replied. “But she won’t be adverse to some catharsis.”
***
The dark suited woman twisted to break Sylia’s blade lock as the visor glowed red beneath the optical camouflage. Sylia’s systems weren’t able to get a clear look at the suit itself even with the main cloak neutralized, but that was to be expected. She’d used similar ECM on Nene’s suit before to keep spy satellites from getting exact scans of their hardware.
Speaking of whom, Sylia wasn’t sure what to make of the fact she’d arrived just in time to defend this world’s version of her red-headed young friend from what was apparently a dark copy of herself...or at least her suit.
Kicking the other woman back, she ducked forward into a circular spin with her blades in the shadow’s direction. If she couldn’t get a direct lock on them, simply giving them no safe space to retreat to would do as well.
Frustratingly, the other armored woman had the same idea, as she darted back just enough to get out of range and then pressed the attack, lashing out with her left pair of hook claws, Sylia dancing back even as she saw the blades slow as they hit her own shields, deflecting them just enough for her to get out of range.
Aware of Nene trapped behind her, Sylia popped her wings and thrusters for half a second, boosting into range with the other woman, who fell back and clawed one of her gauntlets as she went past. There was a brief moment where Sylia could see her opponent tilt their head towards Nene before snapping her head back around to duck as Sylia threw a punch, bending back further as the wristblade slid out of its sheathe to extend the lunge.
Sylia ignited her boosters again, flipping over the woman’s spinning counter, but grimaced as she had to twist away in mid-air to avoid impaling herself on what looked like a blind strike that’d nonetheless headed right for where she was planning to land. Stopping herself just in melee range, Sylia stabbed up and to the right with her left arm. She missed the woman’s helm by an inch even as her right gauntlet deflected a clawing slash, and a dark idea began to filter into her mind as she observed her opponent’s movements. That isn’t possible… is it?
***
“Hmph. Stalemate,” Madigan noted. “Jones is still clearing the storage lockers? She made need his backup to get ahead of this fight.”
“Almost done. The longer she stalls him, the more we get for a first line,” Dugan said just behind her telepresence. The buma grunted. “Need to mix up her combat training after this. They’re too similar, and too smart.”
“Agreed,” Madigan said. “Galatea’s thinking ahead of what she’d do, and playing to counter that, but this Sylia is considering what she’d do in Galatea’s place and thinking ahead to counter her counter. If they’re left alone…”
“This’ll last long enough to involve other of their ‘heroes’,” Dugan finished.
Madigan nodded. “The minute we have what we need, we call her back. We’re on borrowed time as it is.”
“Right, boss.”
***
Sylia was increasingly sure she didn’t want to see the face behind that helm, and far more unsure of how Crey had managed to turn her so effectively, given how badly they’d done with her own attempted reprogramming. However, given what she’d done here… she glanced back over her shoulder as she deflected a kick. “Romanova, get up and run!”
Nene blinked at her from where she’d at least moved behind cover, before her expression told Sylia she was considering the fight in front of her… and what the opponent could likely do to change the flow of it. Getting up and wincing at a tender ankle, she proceeded to jog down the hallway.
One less hostage to worry about, Sylia thought, even as she ducked a slash. “Why are you doing this? Those people don’t care about you. If they’re offering to help you, you have to know it’s a lie.”
“Crey, perhaps,” the other woman said, though her voice was muffled by a speech distorter. “But I’ve found other assistance.”
“Other assistance?” Sylia said, frowning behind her visor. “Who would know anything about us here?”
“Who indeed. Meanwhile you’re just walking in the footsteps of someone else, because it’s all you know how to do,” the dark armored woman returned.
“At least it’s something I want to do,” Sylia shot back. “You’re just working as an armed robber.”
“Necessary materials, to find the one really behind this,” the dark Saber said. “But now that we’re done distracting each other, it’s time to end this,” she said.
Sylia blinked, boosting to the side even as a nearby wall erupted with a particle beam carving through it, and her eyes widened in shock as a familiar blue armored form broke through the wall, red eyes tracking her with unnervingly intelligent hostility.
This was Paragon City. GENOM didn’t exist here. But Sylia stared as a fully operational BU-33C combat boomer opened its mouth again, the particle beam in its jaws spooling up for another shot.
***
“Can’t let her use me as leverage,” Nene said. “But she’s getting nowhere like that. But I can’t DO anything to her with my bare hands like this,” she muttered to herself as she ran. She was appreciative of the save, but if no one helped that armored hero, she was going to wear down eventually. Nene knew the response times for Steel Canyon. It’d only be a couple more minutes before backup arrived.
Nene hoped her savior would actually last that long.
Still, something in Nene rankled at the image of just running from this. There had to be something she could do. Almost as if brought about by this line of thought, Nene winced at the sight of one of the station’s few power armor officers. Most of the armor was intact, save a bloody splash at the throat where the armor didn’t entirely cover the head of the officer.
Nene stopped, even as she forced herself to ignore the bloody remains and think. She’d run over the specs of these suits a hundred times. She couldn’t get the suit set up on her own, but…
Clambering at the arm of the suit, Nene began prying at one particular point, before the panel came loose and she pulled the emergency release, repeating the process on three more panels before the entire gauntlet slid off from the rest of the suit. Checking the ammunition feeds, Nene said a prayer of thanks to whatever engineer had decided to make these things mostly modular so that damaged segments could be swapped in and out.
With a grunt, she lifted the piece off and began jogging back. Now if only she wasn’t too slow hefting this entire thing.
***
Sylia whirled in mid air as her wing jets fired again, arresting her momentum as the buma deployed a combat claw and slashed through the wall she’d been standing by. Another burst pushed her back into a corner to dodge the attack from her armored shadow.
The two attackers split left and right as she did, clearly moving to box her in as she attempted to dodge again, a particle shot charging as Sylia forced herself to do just that to avoid it, stumbling as the beam clipped one of her wings, the metal shearing off to tumble into the other wreckage.
The dark Saber shot forward, visual cloak engaging as Sylia whirled to catch a claw aimed for her back. Ducking barely out of the way of the next particle beam, she smiled in slight satisfaction as she saw a flicker of her ambusher having to dodge the shot as well, having been moving to take her from behind. Whatever the case was here, they weren’t fully coordinating between each other, which gave her a slight bit of leeway.
Sylia darted in towards the BU-33C, a slice of her blades managing to scour the machine’s chest as she counted down to herself. At five seconds, she simply dropped down to her knees, rewarded as her shadow flickered into visibility backflipping out of range of the -33C’s swipe with its melee claw.
Springing upward, Sylia kicked off the buma to spring parallel after the other woman as she fell back, her blades slashing to hit the shadow’s chest and back, the cloak distorting moreso as she pierced it. While it still gave her a poor view of the fighter’s actual features, Sylia could more easily perceive where she was, which was an improvement as the 33C adapted to her ability to dodge its lasers by simply tearing a piece of rebar out of one of the damaged walls and hitting her with it like it was swinging at a wide foul ball. Sylia’s vision went starry at the impact and that disorientation further compounded when she hit a far wall with a resounding crunch.
If you don’t deal with these on their terms, you’re going to die, a voice said in the back of Sylia’s mind, though she couldn’t make out the source. It doesn’t matter who they are. They’re trying to kill you. Shaking the odd sensation out of her head, Sylia pushed herself back up in time to block an attack as she decided it was now or never.
She and her father had been working on some upgrades to her hardsuit over time, and one had taken advantage of a simple fact that her original self never would have had. She was a machine in a way, and thus her body was only programmed to stick to human limits.
The suit’s power cells thrummed in a deeper pitch than before that Sylia could feel in her bones and her muscles at the same time as she connected directly to the suit’s power. Time didn’t exactly slow down, but the dark Saber’s slash was blocked with one gauntlet as she came in close, stopping the downward swipe for a critical few seconds as Sylia laid in a pair of armored punches to her abdomen with lightning speed. Metal from both sides groaned at the abuse, but Sylia’s opponent managed to push herself out of range just as Sylia fired her bayonet, the wristblade scouring the armor as she flipped backward over another rebar swing from the -33C.
A pair of slices and she reduced its bludgeon to splinters, moving in closer as the larger machine couldn’t quite move back in time and slicing downward. The 33C growled in pain as Sylia’s blade severed its left arm at the elbow, before Sylia had to make a dive to the left as panels on its chest opened to reveal its heat cannon array, a wash of deadly light passing by her.
Bouncing to her feet, Sylia crossed her blades over her head to intercept the claws descending to puncture her helmet, stopping them dead before kicking backwards to hit her shadow, turning to burst jump towards her on Sylia’s remaining thrusters, slashes penetrating her opponent’s guard simply too fast to block them entirely as Sylia’s blades slashed at armor plating and starting to cause leaks of the suit’s internal fluids as she penetrated into some of the internals. After a few seconds, Sylia sprang back as the dark Saber made a stab aimed to hit her even if her shadow had to accept a blow in return to ensure it made contact. Instead, Sylia withdrew out of range.
She heard the 33C coming behind her, and turned in time to see blue metal tendrils ripping out of its maimed arm to grab a mechanized claw from one of the armories, fusing it into place as the 33C engaged its own thrusters to charge Sylia. She prepared to move out of the way, before her eyes widened as her thrusters failed to fire. A window opened in her HUD that told her in calm tones what she knew was likely to kill her shortly.
Power cells 90% depleted. Accelerator system cooling down. Shield systems temporarily depowered. Charging for reboot, 5 seconds.
The 33C roared as she didn’t move in time, crashing into Sylia with bone rattling force as they crashed into another wall. Sylia saw stars as she suddenly realized she was on the floor as the 33C raised the hydraulic claw fused to its arm and prepared to drive it down through her head.
There was a loud staccato of burst fire a second later as the 33C’s head erupted in a spray of metal, sparks, and biomechanical gore, bullets punching into the far wall as the buma’s cranium failed to contain their force.
Sylia blinked in surprise, but rolled to the side as the quarter ton machine toppled onto where she’d been sprawled. Pushing herself up, she looked at the broken wall to see Nene, having braced a PPD shell suit’s gauntlet on some rubble and the nearby wall, the small tri-barrel smoking from its recent fire. The red haired woman was panting with effort but flashed Sylia a thumbs up as Sylia got to her feet, walking into the wreckage of her previous battlefield...and staring around in surprise as the other combatant wasn’t present. “Did you see-?”
“No, and thermal on this thing’s sensor doesn’t show her either,” Nene said from where she had one data cable running from the gauntlet to her phone. “Cavalry’s ten seconds out. I think she bailed.”
“Probably trying to avoid being captur-” Sylia said, as a loud sound came from the other room, causing both women to look towards the trashed 33C. Smoke leaked from every joint as entire sections of its torso and limbs sagged inward. Sylia frowned. “Someone’s thorough. Scuttling charges to make sure anything in the body is recoverable besides the armor plate itself,” she said.
“Um… if you have half a clue what that was about, maybe you should stick around to talk with the chief?” Nene said. “Because not that I’m not grateful about the whole life saving, but if this is going to be a potential repeat performance, we need to know how to stop them.”
Sylia considered that for a moment, before nodding. “That’s a good idea.” Whatever artificial replacement her body had for adrenaline chose that moment to run out as she leaned back against a wall and closed her eyes.
“Also, how did you know my name?” Nene’s voice cut into the blissful silence of rest.
Damn.
***
“The suit’s in a damaged state, but repairable,” Sandov said, looking over the repair table. “And despite losses, she acquired all we’ll need to begin full production within the board’s timetable.”
“It’ll have to do. Begin looking for alternatives beyond a raid for those components,” Madigan said. “We can’t afford this kind of attention full time, even if we did disable a majority of their surveillance.”
“Of course,” Sandov said as Madigan nodded to him. Walking out, Madigan waited until she was out of earshot, before syncing up with her implants.
Status on Jones?
Still hasn’t resubstantiated, Dugan replied. There was jamming at the end there. It’s possible that without a hardline, he got scrambled and scattered. If he’s out there, he’s lost somewhere in their global network. Maybe he’ll get back, but I’m not optimistic.
You never are, Madigan said. And Galatea?
Frustrated. She doesn’t like failing. Though whether that’s losing Jones or losing the fight, I couldn’t tell you. You’re the people person, boss.
As long as she isn’t showing doubts, that’ll be sufficient for now, Madigan said. Replacing Jones’ chassis will be expensive. The materials are here, but the tools will take some creative repurposing. We’ll need to keep yours intact as best we can...and look at methods of physical backup just in case.
You getting soft on me, boss? I get a comfy cushion to land on if I fall on my ass, Dugan chuckled. Still, good point. This network hardware is shit for direct reuploads. Like squeezing a brain through a tube of toothpaste.
We deal with what we’re given, Madigan noted as she stepped into her office, calling up a schematic for one of the hardsuits. And take what we aren’t.
I hear that, boss.
***
Sandov watched Madigan go until she stepped through the door, before turning to walk into his own office. Shutting the door behind him, he pressed a few buttons underneath the lip of his desk and sat down, frowning.
“So the operation succeeded then?” a voice said from his earpiece.
“She lost one of those combat machines of hers to the attack, which should at least narrow down her ability to force issues with them,” Sandov said. “But her plan worked. We have the parts we need for mass production. You’ve started analyzing them?”
“Yes. We should be able to replicate the designs without having to actually steal the materials in the future.”
“Good. See if you can get the factories in Terafilter Dynamics retooled to produce these. I want a facility where she doesn’t have eyes,” he said.
“The board seems content with cooperating with her for now.”
“Yes, but the board doesn’t see the danger in relying on an outsider for our technical edge,” Sandov said. “We would’ve cracked the code eventually, but now if she pulls the plug on her expertise, we could be back to step one in an instant. Crey should have the upper hand in this negotiation, not some other dimension.”
“I suppose you have a point,” the voice said. “I’ll see about getting another secure lab ready.”
“If anyone asks, direct them to talk to Wolfram. He owes me a few favors for dissuading too much scrutiny,” Sandov said. “Once we have our own versions of these suits, we won’t need this Madigan and her toys any more.”
***
“..and that’s the gist of it, sir,” Sylia said, her hands on her helmet sitting in her lap. She was privately inordinately grateful at the fact that the number of people with non-standard biology meant that the PPD headquarters actually had a chair capable of holding the weight of herself and her suit at the same time. She wasn’t particularly keen on completely de-suiting right now, and it’d send the wrong message if she stood up until she literally fell over.
It also had helped her keep her composure for the most part when the PPD section chief of the area had been one Chief Todo, as if the coincidence of Nene being there hadn’t been large enough. The balding officer looked between her and Romanova, considering the situation. “And you think that the hardware stolen was intended to produce more suits like yours?”
“Going over what was taken, yes, sir,” Sylia said. “They must’ve been in a resource crunch, however. Those parts are available here with less effort than robbing a police station.”
Todo nodded. “I appreciate your discussing this with us. More than a few DDPs...sorry, jargon. Dimensionally displaced persons don’t tend to trust us as local authority with problems that follow them here,” he said. “...but I suspect from the way you’ve phrased things you intend to provide us information on this GENOM, but not the technical specifications of what we may be going up against,” he said.
Sylia frowned. “With respect sir, no. While they may have iterated it away from my original design, any design flaws you could exploit could equally be turned against me. And...with all due respect, I don’t know that I’d trust your security given the circumstances.”
Nene bristled beside her, about to say something before Todo raised a hand. “Calm down, Romanova. She’s got a point. If not for her, these villains would’ve gotten away clean and you’d be dead. However, I don’t care to just leave it at us working on this in our own separate ways,” he said, looking over at Sylia again.
“You have a proposal for a joint operation of some kind?” Sylia asked.
“Of a sort,” Todo said. “You don’t want to store data on this in our computers. That’s reasonable under the circumstances. But in case more of these armored attackers show up, we need someone who can analyze their equipment and potentially help us develop countermeasures. Trying to call you at random if it comes up is one way, but I’d prefer a direct liaison. Speaking of which, Romanova.”
“Yes, sir!” Nene said, abruptly stiffening to attention as Todo gestured to her.
“Romanova’s getting paid far below what her actual skill set should be worth, if you ask me,” Todo said. “She’s one of our tactical operators for PPD units in the field, but I also know she’s been certified in power armor operation, even if they haven’t gotten her a suit to use,” he said. “And on top of that, data warfare and security are one of her specialties.”
Sylia listened to the list, before absently wondering about the academic papers Ifrit had forwarded her once about some Portal Corp scientist publishing a paper about the number of coincidental dimensional parallels in his work, and his belief that the universe actively had a sense of humor in what dimensions it chose to put in contact with each other. Because she could see where Todo was going with this.
“Blue Steel’s established precedent that officers unconnected with other hero work can also be licensed super heroes for operating in the field,” Todo said. “As such, I’d propose that you and Romanova work together, possibly using one of your suits, so that she can be our direct contact on this matter, while supporting you with her talents in exchange. This will let us coordinate more effectively if this ‘GENOM’ continues to cause trouble here.”
Nene blinked, before looking over at Sylia with barely restrained excitement, as Sylia smiled faintly. “Well… I can’t fault your reasoning, Chief Todo,” she said. “If Officer Romanova’s willing to participate in this, I can see about us working together in the future.”
“Yes!” Nene said, bouncing to her feet. “Er...I mean… I’m certainly looking forward to partnering with you,” she added, rubbing the back of her head.
“Good. Now the little spitfire is your problem then,” Todo said with a faint smile that took some of the bite out of his words.
“Aw, chief….” Nene said with a pouting tone towards him, as Sylia let herself smile a little more genuinely.
Perhaps things didn’t have to be so different here.
“Doubtful,” Madigan mused from her seat, mind absently sifting through the telemetry Galatea’s suit was sending back to them. “If she does, that’s why Jones is there to clear up things, but I was looking through Crey’s experimental logs,” she said. “They’re worse than I thought. Attempts at lowering empathy response, reaction to authority boosted… they didn’t know how to manipulate the system as it was, so they just tried to implant a full personality manipulation overlay. Some parts, by accident, hooked into the right parts… she’s probably less caring about her fellow man than Stingray, for instance. But they still wanted loyal killbots without any proper work. I’m not surprised that random mental hooks compromised the cerebral functions of the rest of her line with the mess they made of it.”
Dugan made a sound almost like a snort. “So she gives about as much a damn about killing humans as I do now, huh?” If anything, Madigan could always count on Dugan to get to the point with the subtlety of an anti-tank round.
“Stingray was always relentless and driven, from the files the Chairman provided,” she replied. “This version just doesn’t care about what it takes to achieve her goals. If the original was more like her, she would’ve gone very far in GENOM. And while the suit has none of Crey’s hardware faults… it’s still designed more for stealth than battle. If she betrays us, we have the frequencies to neutralize her cloaking advantage.”
“You still didn’t answer my question about dealing with her batchmate,” Dugan noted.
“If my estimate is correct, I think this new Sylia Stingray is about the last person that Galatea wanted to deal with today,” Madigan replied. “But she won’t be adverse to some catharsis.”
***
The dark suited woman twisted to break Sylia’s blade lock as the visor glowed red beneath the optical camouflage. Sylia’s systems weren’t able to get a clear look at the suit itself even with the main cloak neutralized, but that was to be expected. She’d used similar ECM on Nene’s suit before to keep spy satellites from getting exact scans of their hardware.
Speaking of whom, Sylia wasn’t sure what to make of the fact she’d arrived just in time to defend this world’s version of her red-headed young friend from what was apparently a dark copy of herself...or at least her suit.
Kicking the other woman back, she ducked forward into a circular spin with her blades in the shadow’s direction. If she couldn’t get a direct lock on them, simply giving them no safe space to retreat to would do as well.
Frustratingly, the other armored woman had the same idea, as she darted back just enough to get out of range and then pressed the attack, lashing out with her left pair of hook claws, Sylia dancing back even as she saw the blades slow as they hit her own shields, deflecting them just enough for her to get out of range.
Aware of Nene trapped behind her, Sylia popped her wings and thrusters for half a second, boosting into range with the other woman, who fell back and clawed one of her gauntlets as she went past. There was a brief moment where Sylia could see her opponent tilt their head towards Nene before snapping her head back around to duck as Sylia threw a punch, bending back further as the wristblade slid out of its sheathe to extend the lunge.
Sylia ignited her boosters again, flipping over the woman’s spinning counter, but grimaced as she had to twist away in mid-air to avoid impaling herself on what looked like a blind strike that’d nonetheless headed right for where she was planning to land. Stopping herself just in melee range, Sylia stabbed up and to the right with her left arm. She missed the woman’s helm by an inch even as her right gauntlet deflected a clawing slash, and a dark idea began to filter into her mind as she observed her opponent’s movements. That isn’t possible… is it?
***
“Hmph. Stalemate,” Madigan noted. “Jones is still clearing the storage lockers? She made need his backup to get ahead of this fight.”
“Almost done. The longer she stalls him, the more we get for a first line,” Dugan said just behind her telepresence. The buma grunted. “Need to mix up her combat training after this. They’re too similar, and too smart.”
“Agreed,” Madigan said. “Galatea’s thinking ahead of what she’d do, and playing to counter that, but this Sylia is considering what she’d do in Galatea’s place and thinking ahead to counter her counter. If they’re left alone…”
“This’ll last long enough to involve other of their ‘heroes’,” Dugan finished.
Madigan nodded. “The minute we have what we need, we call her back. We’re on borrowed time as it is.”
“Right, boss.”
***
Sylia was increasingly sure she didn’t want to see the face behind that helm, and far more unsure of how Crey had managed to turn her so effectively, given how badly they’d done with her own attempted reprogramming. However, given what she’d done here… she glanced back over her shoulder as she deflected a kick. “Romanova, get up and run!”
Nene blinked at her from where she’d at least moved behind cover, before her expression told Sylia she was considering the fight in front of her… and what the opponent could likely do to change the flow of it. Getting up and wincing at a tender ankle, she proceeded to jog down the hallway.
One less hostage to worry about, Sylia thought, even as she ducked a slash. “Why are you doing this? Those people don’t care about you. If they’re offering to help you, you have to know it’s a lie.”
“Crey, perhaps,” the other woman said, though her voice was muffled by a speech distorter. “But I’ve found other assistance.”
“Other assistance?” Sylia said, frowning behind her visor. “Who would know anything about us here?”
“Who indeed. Meanwhile you’re just walking in the footsteps of someone else, because it’s all you know how to do,” the dark armored woman returned.
“At least it’s something I want to do,” Sylia shot back. “You’re just working as an armed robber.”
“Necessary materials, to find the one really behind this,” the dark Saber said. “But now that we’re done distracting each other, it’s time to end this,” she said.
Sylia blinked, boosting to the side even as a nearby wall erupted with a particle beam carving through it, and her eyes widened in shock as a familiar blue armored form broke through the wall, red eyes tracking her with unnervingly intelligent hostility.
This was Paragon City. GENOM didn’t exist here. But Sylia stared as a fully operational BU-33C combat boomer opened its mouth again, the particle beam in its jaws spooling up for another shot.
***
“Can’t let her use me as leverage,” Nene said. “But she’s getting nowhere like that. But I can’t DO anything to her with my bare hands like this,” she muttered to herself as she ran. She was appreciative of the save, but if no one helped that armored hero, she was going to wear down eventually. Nene knew the response times for Steel Canyon. It’d only be a couple more minutes before backup arrived.
Nene hoped her savior would actually last that long.
Still, something in Nene rankled at the image of just running from this. There had to be something she could do. Almost as if brought about by this line of thought, Nene winced at the sight of one of the station’s few power armor officers. Most of the armor was intact, save a bloody splash at the throat where the armor didn’t entirely cover the head of the officer.
Nene stopped, even as she forced herself to ignore the bloody remains and think. She’d run over the specs of these suits a hundred times. She couldn’t get the suit set up on her own, but…
Clambering at the arm of the suit, Nene began prying at one particular point, before the panel came loose and she pulled the emergency release, repeating the process on three more panels before the entire gauntlet slid off from the rest of the suit. Checking the ammunition feeds, Nene said a prayer of thanks to whatever engineer had decided to make these things mostly modular so that damaged segments could be swapped in and out.
With a grunt, she lifted the piece off and began jogging back. Now if only she wasn’t too slow hefting this entire thing.
***
Sylia whirled in mid air as her wing jets fired again, arresting her momentum as the buma deployed a combat claw and slashed through the wall she’d been standing by. Another burst pushed her back into a corner to dodge the attack from her armored shadow.
The two attackers split left and right as she did, clearly moving to box her in as she attempted to dodge again, a particle shot charging as Sylia forced herself to do just that to avoid it, stumbling as the beam clipped one of her wings, the metal shearing off to tumble into the other wreckage.
The dark Saber shot forward, visual cloak engaging as Sylia whirled to catch a claw aimed for her back. Ducking barely out of the way of the next particle beam, she smiled in slight satisfaction as she saw a flicker of her ambusher having to dodge the shot as well, having been moving to take her from behind. Whatever the case was here, they weren’t fully coordinating between each other, which gave her a slight bit of leeway.
Sylia darted in towards the BU-33C, a slice of her blades managing to scour the machine’s chest as she counted down to herself. At five seconds, she simply dropped down to her knees, rewarded as her shadow flickered into visibility backflipping out of range of the -33C’s swipe with its melee claw.
Springing upward, Sylia kicked off the buma to spring parallel after the other woman as she fell back, her blades slashing to hit the shadow’s chest and back, the cloak distorting moreso as she pierced it. While it still gave her a poor view of the fighter’s actual features, Sylia could more easily perceive where she was, which was an improvement as the 33C adapted to her ability to dodge its lasers by simply tearing a piece of rebar out of one of the damaged walls and hitting her with it like it was swinging at a wide foul ball. Sylia’s vision went starry at the impact and that disorientation further compounded when she hit a far wall with a resounding crunch.
If you don’t deal with these on their terms, you’re going to die, a voice said in the back of Sylia’s mind, though she couldn’t make out the source. It doesn’t matter who they are. They’re trying to kill you. Shaking the odd sensation out of her head, Sylia pushed herself back up in time to block an attack as she decided it was now or never.
She and her father had been working on some upgrades to her hardsuit over time, and one had taken advantage of a simple fact that her original self never would have had. She was a machine in a way, and thus her body was only programmed to stick to human limits.
The suit’s power cells thrummed in a deeper pitch than before that Sylia could feel in her bones and her muscles at the same time as she connected directly to the suit’s power. Time didn’t exactly slow down, but the dark Saber’s slash was blocked with one gauntlet as she came in close, stopping the downward swipe for a critical few seconds as Sylia laid in a pair of armored punches to her abdomen with lightning speed. Metal from both sides groaned at the abuse, but Sylia’s opponent managed to push herself out of range just as Sylia fired her bayonet, the wristblade scouring the armor as she flipped backward over another rebar swing from the -33C.
A pair of slices and she reduced its bludgeon to splinters, moving in closer as the larger machine couldn’t quite move back in time and slicing downward. The 33C growled in pain as Sylia’s blade severed its left arm at the elbow, before Sylia had to make a dive to the left as panels on its chest opened to reveal its heat cannon array, a wash of deadly light passing by her.
Bouncing to her feet, Sylia crossed her blades over her head to intercept the claws descending to puncture her helmet, stopping them dead before kicking backwards to hit her shadow, turning to burst jump towards her on Sylia’s remaining thrusters, slashes penetrating her opponent’s guard simply too fast to block them entirely as Sylia’s blades slashed at armor plating and starting to cause leaks of the suit’s internal fluids as she penetrated into some of the internals. After a few seconds, Sylia sprang back as the dark Saber made a stab aimed to hit her even if her shadow had to accept a blow in return to ensure it made contact. Instead, Sylia withdrew out of range.
She heard the 33C coming behind her, and turned in time to see blue metal tendrils ripping out of its maimed arm to grab a mechanized claw from one of the armories, fusing it into place as the 33C engaged its own thrusters to charge Sylia. She prepared to move out of the way, before her eyes widened as her thrusters failed to fire. A window opened in her HUD that told her in calm tones what she knew was likely to kill her shortly.
Power cells 90% depleted. Accelerator system cooling down. Shield systems temporarily depowered. Charging for reboot, 5 seconds.
The 33C roared as she didn’t move in time, crashing into Sylia with bone rattling force as they crashed into another wall. Sylia saw stars as she suddenly realized she was on the floor as the 33C raised the hydraulic claw fused to its arm and prepared to drive it down through her head.
There was a loud staccato of burst fire a second later as the 33C’s head erupted in a spray of metal, sparks, and biomechanical gore, bullets punching into the far wall as the buma’s cranium failed to contain their force.
Sylia blinked in surprise, but rolled to the side as the quarter ton machine toppled onto where she’d been sprawled. Pushing herself up, she looked at the broken wall to see Nene, having braced a PPD shell suit’s gauntlet on some rubble and the nearby wall, the small tri-barrel smoking from its recent fire. The red haired woman was panting with effort but flashed Sylia a thumbs up as Sylia got to her feet, walking into the wreckage of her previous battlefield...and staring around in surprise as the other combatant wasn’t present. “Did you see-?”
“No, and thermal on this thing’s sensor doesn’t show her either,” Nene said from where she had one data cable running from the gauntlet to her phone. “Cavalry’s ten seconds out. I think she bailed.”
“Probably trying to avoid being captur-” Sylia said, as a loud sound came from the other room, causing both women to look towards the trashed 33C. Smoke leaked from every joint as entire sections of its torso and limbs sagged inward. Sylia frowned. “Someone’s thorough. Scuttling charges to make sure anything in the body is recoverable besides the armor plate itself,” she said.
“Um… if you have half a clue what that was about, maybe you should stick around to talk with the chief?” Nene said. “Because not that I’m not grateful about the whole life saving, but if this is going to be a potential repeat performance, we need to know how to stop them.”
Sylia considered that for a moment, before nodding. “That’s a good idea.” Whatever artificial replacement her body had for adrenaline chose that moment to run out as she leaned back against a wall and closed her eyes.
“Also, how did you know my name?” Nene’s voice cut into the blissful silence of rest.
Damn.
***
“The suit’s in a damaged state, but repairable,” Sandov said, looking over the repair table. “And despite losses, she acquired all we’ll need to begin full production within the board’s timetable.”
“It’ll have to do. Begin looking for alternatives beyond a raid for those components,” Madigan said. “We can’t afford this kind of attention full time, even if we did disable a majority of their surveillance.”
“Of course,” Sandov said as Madigan nodded to him. Walking out, Madigan waited until she was out of earshot, before syncing up with her implants.
Status on Jones?
Still hasn’t resubstantiated, Dugan replied. There was jamming at the end there. It’s possible that without a hardline, he got scrambled and scattered. If he’s out there, he’s lost somewhere in their global network. Maybe he’ll get back, but I’m not optimistic.
You never are, Madigan said. And Galatea?
Frustrated. She doesn’t like failing. Though whether that’s losing Jones or losing the fight, I couldn’t tell you. You’re the people person, boss.
As long as she isn’t showing doubts, that’ll be sufficient for now, Madigan said. Replacing Jones’ chassis will be expensive. The materials are here, but the tools will take some creative repurposing. We’ll need to keep yours intact as best we can...and look at methods of physical backup just in case.
You getting soft on me, boss? I get a comfy cushion to land on if I fall on my ass, Dugan chuckled. Still, good point. This network hardware is shit for direct reuploads. Like squeezing a brain through a tube of toothpaste.
We deal with what we’re given, Madigan noted as she stepped into her office, calling up a schematic for one of the hardsuits. And take what we aren’t.
I hear that, boss.
***
Sandov watched Madigan go until she stepped through the door, before turning to walk into his own office. Shutting the door behind him, he pressed a few buttons underneath the lip of his desk and sat down, frowning.
“So the operation succeeded then?” a voice said from his earpiece.
“She lost one of those combat machines of hers to the attack, which should at least narrow down her ability to force issues with them,” Sandov said. “But her plan worked. We have the parts we need for mass production. You’ve started analyzing them?”
“Yes. We should be able to replicate the designs without having to actually steal the materials in the future.”
“Good. See if you can get the factories in Terafilter Dynamics retooled to produce these. I want a facility where she doesn’t have eyes,” he said.
“The board seems content with cooperating with her for now.”
“Yes, but the board doesn’t see the danger in relying on an outsider for our technical edge,” Sandov said. “We would’ve cracked the code eventually, but now if she pulls the plug on her expertise, we could be back to step one in an instant. Crey should have the upper hand in this negotiation, not some other dimension.”
“I suppose you have a point,” the voice said. “I’ll see about getting another secure lab ready.”
“If anyone asks, direct them to talk to Wolfram. He owes me a few favors for dissuading too much scrutiny,” Sandov said. “Once we have our own versions of these suits, we won’t need this Madigan and her toys any more.”
***
“..and that’s the gist of it, sir,” Sylia said, her hands on her helmet sitting in her lap. She was privately inordinately grateful at the fact that the number of people with non-standard biology meant that the PPD headquarters actually had a chair capable of holding the weight of herself and her suit at the same time. She wasn’t particularly keen on completely de-suiting right now, and it’d send the wrong message if she stood up until she literally fell over.
It also had helped her keep her composure for the most part when the PPD section chief of the area had been one Chief Todo, as if the coincidence of Nene being there hadn’t been large enough. The balding officer looked between her and Romanova, considering the situation. “And you think that the hardware stolen was intended to produce more suits like yours?”
“Going over what was taken, yes, sir,” Sylia said. “They must’ve been in a resource crunch, however. Those parts are available here with less effort than robbing a police station.”
Todo nodded. “I appreciate your discussing this with us. More than a few DDPs...sorry, jargon. Dimensionally displaced persons don’t tend to trust us as local authority with problems that follow them here,” he said. “...but I suspect from the way you’ve phrased things you intend to provide us information on this GENOM, but not the technical specifications of what we may be going up against,” he said.
Sylia frowned. “With respect sir, no. While they may have iterated it away from my original design, any design flaws you could exploit could equally be turned against me. And...with all due respect, I don’t know that I’d trust your security given the circumstances.”
Nene bristled beside her, about to say something before Todo raised a hand. “Calm down, Romanova. She’s got a point. If not for her, these villains would’ve gotten away clean and you’d be dead. However, I don’t care to just leave it at us working on this in our own separate ways,” he said, looking over at Sylia again.
“You have a proposal for a joint operation of some kind?” Sylia asked.
“Of a sort,” Todo said. “You don’t want to store data on this in our computers. That’s reasonable under the circumstances. But in case more of these armored attackers show up, we need someone who can analyze their equipment and potentially help us develop countermeasures. Trying to call you at random if it comes up is one way, but I’d prefer a direct liaison. Speaking of which, Romanova.”
“Yes, sir!” Nene said, abruptly stiffening to attention as Todo gestured to her.
“Romanova’s getting paid far below what her actual skill set should be worth, if you ask me,” Todo said. “She’s one of our tactical operators for PPD units in the field, but I also know she’s been certified in power armor operation, even if they haven’t gotten her a suit to use,” he said. “And on top of that, data warfare and security are one of her specialties.”
Sylia listened to the list, before absently wondering about the academic papers Ifrit had forwarded her once about some Portal Corp scientist publishing a paper about the number of coincidental dimensional parallels in his work, and his belief that the universe actively had a sense of humor in what dimensions it chose to put in contact with each other. Because she could see where Todo was going with this.
“Blue Steel’s established precedent that officers unconnected with other hero work can also be licensed super heroes for operating in the field,” Todo said. “As such, I’d propose that you and Romanova work together, possibly using one of your suits, so that she can be our direct contact on this matter, while supporting you with her talents in exchange. This will let us coordinate more effectively if this ‘GENOM’ continues to cause trouble here.”
Nene blinked, before looking over at Sylia with barely restrained excitement, as Sylia smiled faintly. “Well… I can’t fault your reasoning, Chief Todo,” she said. “If Officer Romanova’s willing to participate in this, I can see about us working together in the future.”
“Yes!” Nene said, bouncing to her feet. “Er...I mean… I’m certainly looking forward to partnering with you,” she added, rubbing the back of her head.
“Good. Now the little spitfire is your problem then,” Todo said with a faint smile that took some of the bite out of his words.
“Aw, chief….” Nene said with a pouting tone towards him, as Sylia let herself smile a little more genuinely.
Perhaps things didn’t have to be so different here.