"Free Will is Overrated" - Bait in the Trap, Part 2 of 3

Story Hub: [link] 

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            Sergeant Tyce and Private Char brought the rapidly fading Pinc back to the control room. The other soldiers were shocked at their comrade’s state. Reg immediately started going over their medication and treatment manuals to deduce what was wrong, while Lunk cleared off a table for them to lay the ill man down. Tripper took one look at the situation and didn’t like what he saw.

            “Sir, what the abyss happened to him?” Tripper asked as he watched Pinc’s skin go pale and break out into a sweat.

            “He said it was a cyangel,” Tyce said with a mix of concern and frustration.

            “I can confirm, Sir,” Reg looked up from his holopad, “before the camera feed cut out, I got one good look at his attacker, and a cyangel would be the best match.”

            “Why would a cyangel attack him? I thought they were just weirdo gynoids from the outer rim?” Char asked. “I had a cousin on Barstilin who said they could be incredibly annoying and pushy, but he never said anything about them being violent.”

            “That’s what I want to know,” Tyce replied as he checked Pinc’s vitals. Despite the sweat and pale skin, Pinc wasn’t burning up or growing cold. On the surface, everything seemed normal with the soldier, aside from the obvious symptoms. They’d need to give him a proper check-up in medical, but with an intruder still on the loose, there was no time to do that safely.

            “I’ve heard rumors,” Tripper stated, “that people who antagonize cyangels end up missing or dead under suspicious circumstances, but nothing was ever linked back to them. It was usually the incompetent or reclusive people that either no one would miss or no one would question their misfortunes.”

            “That’s all rumors, though. We need facts,” Reg argued. “And this is a fact, Pinc has been clearly poisoned, and he needs immediate medical attention. Unfortunately, even if we do get him to medical, there’s no record of cyangel poisons or much of anything for them regarding weapons. I can only hope it’s a common outer rim poison that we can reliably synthesize an antivenom for.”

            “Before we do anything, I want to know how many of those things are loose in the outpost. I’m not running us into an ambush while carrying injured,” Tyce declared.

            “Nope, just me,” S7 answered from above. All of those snapped their heads up to see the cyangel hanging out of one of the ceiling vents. “Or are there more?...Nope, just me, me, and me. Well, maybe not, nobody tells me anything, so there could be a dozen of me in here for all I knowy knowy know.”

            “Open fire!” The Sergeant declared as he leveled his high-powered laser rifle at the gynoid. He and all his men released a hail of laser fire at their target, but S7 just bounced through the air like a cartoon character, dodging most of them. Much like with Pinc’s shots, the few bolts that did graze the cyangel did little more than slow her down. However, when one of Tyce’s shots hit home, it actually knocked her off course and sent her tumbling to the ground.

            “Ow, that one actually hurt, hurt, hurt!” She looked at the laser burn on her side. While it was mostly cosmetic, it still stung a lot. A few of those shots at close range would actually injure her, and one to the head might be enough to knock her out.

            “Focus fire, men!” Tyce ordered, but S7 just rolled into cover, avoiding their shots. “Damn it, we need more firepower. Lunk, where’s your heavy laser?”

            “Um, armory, Sir,” Lunk answered, “but should I really shoot that indoors?”

            “Sir, permission to disable the all clear and contact command,” Reg asked.

            “Permission granted!” Tyce agreed, backup sounded really nice right now. And at the very least, the federation would know the cyangels are up to something. Reg rushed to the console controlling the outpost, but before he could log in, S7 emerged from a vent above him and kicked him away.

            “Thanky thanks for pointing this out, I’ve been looking for this thing,” S7 laughed as she ripped open the side of the console and crawled inside. The computer system began to bug out, then froze.

            “What the?” Reg tried to log into the system, but it was stuck in all-clear mode now. He had completely lost control of the console, he couldn’t even reboot it. “She’s taken complete control, I can’t even move the cursor.”

            “Can you move thisy this?” S7 emerged from inside the console, popping open the interface, and bit Reg’s finger. The corporal jumped back, afraid he’d lost a finger, but thankfully, she had only damaged the skin. “Bye the bye,” S7 scrambled away, towards the vent she appeared from. Tyce only managed to get one shot on her leg as she disappeared into the ventilation system with a pained squeal.

            “Corporal Reg, status on the control console?” Tyce asked, knowing he wouldn’t like the answer.

            “I’m locked out of everything, Sir,” Reg cradled his finger, which refused to stop stinging. “I can’t disable the all-clear, I can’t check cameras or contact command. Whatever she did, she’s in control of this outpost now.”

            “Then she’s the priority target,” the Sergeant resolved. “Private Lunk, grab Pinc, we’re all going to the armory.”

            “Yes, sir!” His men responded.

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            Pinc was completely delirious and unable to form coherent sentences. All he could do was a panicked laugh and repeat single words. As Sergeant Tyce and the rest of the soldiers reached the armory with him in tow, their view of his long-term survival had turned from dim to nonexistent. However, as long as he drew breath, Tyce wasn’t about to give up on one of his men. Lunk laid his babbling comrade down on a couch in the waiting room outside the armory as the rest moved deeper inside.

            “He’s definitely been poisoned, but I don’t know with what,” Tripper commented as he passed by Pinc. “I haven’t seen symptoms like that outside of movies.”

            “Mo…Move…Movey? Movie?” Pinc repeated in his stupor.

            “Good news, Sir,” Reg announced as he logged into the armory’s security console. “She may have taken over the control room, but she doesn’t control the entire security system. I can’t access many systems close to the control room, but everywhere else is fair game. If she’s out there, I can still track her through the cameras.”

            “Finally, some good news,” Tyce nodded as he picked up some spare ammo for his laser rifle and some ploders. “Find her, Reg. Lunk, arm your heavy laser. I don’t care about damaging the outpost. If we don’t use everything at our disposal, we won’t live to regret it.”

            “Yes, Sir,” Lunk agreed solemnly. He picked up the heavy laser from its storage rack. The weapon was massive even for a big guy like him. It was too huge to wield like a regular weapon, he had to carry it like an action movie star holding a minigun. Which makes sense because it was designed to destroy tanks and terrestrial ships. While it would definitely kill S7 in a single shot, it’d also punch a hole right through the outpost, which wasn’t designed to withstand anything so strong, especially from the inside.

            “The real problem is hitting her, Sarge,” Char said as he picked up an HF-knife, designed for cleaving through the toughest known armor. Tripper grabbed the other one while he searched for more ploders.

            “That’s what these are for, Private,” Tyce held up the ammo he was loading his rifle with. They were armor-piercing charge packs, specially overcharged to puncture enemy vehicles. “A couple hits of this, and she won’t be going anywhere fast.”

            “I hope you’re right, sir,” Reg stated as he primed a high-powered stun pistol. It wasn’t much, but it could protect him in a pinch. “Wait, who’s watching Pinc?” The corporal realized everyone was inside the armory now, and no one was in the waiting room watching Pinc. Worse yet, his crazed mutterings had gone silent.

            “Blast it,” Tyce cursed himself for his negligence. He loaded his laser rifle with the armor-piercing charge pack and stalked forward to check Pinc. He was barely through the door when S7 sprang through the entrance to attack him. Luckily for Tyce, he half expected the blatant sneak attack and caught her in mid-air and slammed her into the wall. “You’ll have to do better than that,” he pressed his rifle to her temple.

            “Ok, ok, okay!” S7 smiled in a way someone with a gun to their head would never. Unless they were either mad or knew something their assailant didn’t. For S7, both were true. Another identical cyangel sprang out from the ventilation system and jabbed Tyce in the neck with her stingers.

            “What in the Abys-?” Was all the Sergeant managed to say before he was electrocuted and dropped to the floor like a rag doll. Char, Reg, and Tripper opened fire on their commander officer’s killer, but the two cyangels held up Tyce’s body like a shield, forcing the soldiers to stem their fire lest they destroy his body. With time successfully bought, S7 and her twin bounced away and out of sight.

            “Sir!” Reg prepared to run to his sergeant’s side.

            “He’s dead, leave him!” Tripper held him back.

            “Have a heart, Tripper,” Char shook his head as he ran to Tyce’s body, but Tripper was right. Their sergeant was dead, and equally concerning, Pinc’s body was missing aside from a few scraps of his uniform and armor.

            “What do we do now?” Lunk asked.

            “We have to get out of the armory before they come back. If there’s a second one, there might be even more. We can’t afford to be trapped in here,” Tripper urged.

            “And then what? Run?” Char replied.

            “Yes,” Tripped snapped. “If we stay here, we’ll die for nothing. If we escape, we can at least warn someone.”

            “Well, according to regulation, in the event of a commanding officer’s death,” Reg started rattling off standard procedure.

            “What, you’ll take charge?” Tripped countered. “This isn’t the time for procedure, Reg, it’s time for survival. We either escape now, or like the Sergeant said, we won’t live to regret it.”

To Be Continued…

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A crisis situation is the surest test of your team's cohesion and capabilities. However, just because you're in a crisis, doesn't mean you can neglect basic duties or responsibilities. When it's uncertain who will be around to do what, then everything is everyone's responsibility.

Author's Note: Now things are getting bad, how will they get out of this crisis? Fair warning, the next part will veer harder into horror and related tropes. I'll have more to say then.

Until next time, Read, Comment and Enjoy.

"Free Will is Overrated" - Bait in the Trap, Part 1 of 3

Story Hub: [link] 

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            Border watch in the farthest reaches of the Cosmic Wall was perhaps the most boring and thankless job, but someone had to do it. If they didn’t who knows what strange alien forces would enter Themision Federation space undetected? But halfway through your first solar cycle[1] in one of those listening outposts, and you’ll be begging to be sent to the front lines of the latest galactic war, at least the scenery would be nicer.

            Unfortunately for the six residents of Federation Listening Outpost Theta-4, their cries for transfer had long fallen on deaf ears, and their scenery consisted of whatever floated past their pitiful little rock situated in what could be charitably described as an asteroid field. Supposedly, an unknown foe was making raids on Federation planets over the past few lunar cycles,[2] thus their dim hopes of getting off this rock were extinguished completely. After all, what if these raids were just a precursor to a greater invasion? They could be the first to alert the Federation to such a threat and be a deciding factor in a potential war. A highly unlikely scenario, but such flights of fancy help stave off the existential boredom of the tedious, lonely, and only barely necessary task that is border watch.

            “Private Char, status report on that meteor shower,” Sergeant Tyce entered the control room. He was an older, grizzled man with grey streaks in his hair and a clean-shaven face. The other soldiers stood at attention at his arrival, except for two, one of whom was Char.

            “Yep, it’s a meteor shower,” Char had his boots on the control console, barely glancing at the radar or the visual feed. He was much younger than Tyce, his hair was uncombed, his stubble unshaven, and his uniform wrinkled.

            “Private Char, I understand we’re a little lax here in the outer rim,” the Sergeant replied, “but I still expect you to follow the very basics of regulation and respect for the chain of command.”

            “Grh,” Char grumbled. “Sir, radar and visual feed indicate it’s a perfectly average meteor shower. Minimal to no damage expected, Sir.” While the private rolled his eyes, he did at least check the radar to make sure.

            “Better, but a little less attitude next time, Private,” Sergeant Tyce commented. “Private First Class Tripper, what’s the status on the maintenance of the exterior radar nodes?”

            “It was roughly 90% complete this morning, Sir,” Tripper answered. He was a thinner man, a little weaselly looking, but with a sharp look in his eyes. “Hopefully the meteor shower won’t set us back too much, but it’ll be done tomorrow morning at the latest.”

            “Good to hear, Private,” Tyce nodded, “Private Lunk, Corporal Reg, how goes the installation of the new Nitron Drum?”

            “Sir, we successfully installed it ahead of schedule, Sir.” Reg stood at full attention. He was a shorter man with well-combed hair, a clean-shaven face, and an excellent complexion. “All systems have operated at optimum capacity since then, no more random power issues, Sir.”

            “Um,” Lunk looked back and forth. He was a mountain of a man with long, tangled hair and unfocused eyes. “What he said, Sir.”

            “Great work as always, you two,” Tyce nodded, before turning to his last soldier with a sigh. “Private Pinc.” Pinc was the other soldier who refused to stand at attention. He was a little older than his fellow privates, yet he was even more unkempt than Char. His uniform was stained, his facial hair was ungroomed, and his workstation was a mess.

            “What can I help you with, Sarge?” Pinc didn’t even look up from his holopad, giving more attention to sports scores than the Sergeant’s gaze.

            “Based on your casual demeanor, Private, I take it you’ve completed your duties?” Tyce asked, already knowing the answer.

            “Sure thing, boss,” Pinc blew him off.

            “Private Pinc, I understand your checkered history with the Stellar Navy has left you with a difficult relationship to authority, but I still expect you to complete your work,” Tyce glared at him.

            “Or what? You’ll reassign me to some desolate backwater at the edge of space?” Pinc replied before looking around dramatically. “Oh, wait, command beat you to it.”

            “How about I take everyone down to the training room for a couple of hours?” the Sergeant threatened. “I’m sure they’ll thank you for the exercise.”

            “Please, everyone already hates my guts,” Pinc scoffed.

            “If that’s the case, how about you do them all a favor? That might improve your standing,” Tyce grinned. “You’re on waste disposal duty for the next three lunar cycles.”

            “Sure thing, boss,” Pinc turned his chair away.

            “Hear that, everyone? Make sure to drop off your trash at Pinc’s quarters from now on, he said he’ll handle it.”

            “Oh, you’ve got to be blastin’ me,” Pinc snapped as everyone else laughed at his expense.

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            As the “meteor shower” rained down on Theta-4’s asteroid, none of the soldiers noticed a very peculiar object hidden amongst the meteors, a solid metal pod. As the meteors impacted the surface, the pod slammed deep into the ground, its landing obscured by their debris. The pod opened with a mechanical hiss, revealing a small, winged, female humanoid with messy violet hair. She wore sleek, form-fitting armor that looked like a thin bodysuit at first glance, but a close examination revealed it was quite sturdy. Almost as if it was built into, and inside of, her body, as her wrist guards and boots seemed one size too small, even for her slender frame.

            “Amelia Unit S71N6. Activated,” its internal computer declared. The unit awoke with an artificial yawn as her optical sensors adjusted to the environment. She spotted the listening station immediately and stood up with a grin. “Target located, beginning mission,” she took one step forward before tripping over a rock and falling on her face. The cyborg not-so-elegantly rolled down the hill, all the way to the listening station, before hitting the structure with a metal thud.

            “Recalibrating equilibrium bolt,” the Amelia Unit mumbled to herself as she shook off her dizziness. “Now, how do I get in?” S7 scanned her surroundings for a moment before noticing an air vent on the side of the structure. “Entry point located,” she cheered, before quickly silencing herself. With a literal hop, skip, and a jump, she bounded over to the vent and ripped it open with her bare hands before crawling inside.

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            “Wha?” Private Char watched as the radar screen in front of him showed a brief blip. It had appeared for only a second, but it had been so long since he had seen much of anything on the radar that it shocked him out of his bored stupor. “Way to give me a scare,” the soldier shook his head.

            “Is there something on the radar, Private?” Sergeant Tyce asked.

            “Only the briefest blip, probably another meteor raet like it always is,” Char dismissed it.

            “Still, I’d rather not take any chances,” Tyce stated, “I want you to check it out, Private. Where was it detected and how big is it?”

            “On the far side of the station, in air recycling vent 32, and it’s small, whatever it is,” Char explained, “smaller than your average soldier. That’s why I think it’s just a fat meteor raet.”

            “Then there’d be no harm in checking it, Private,” Tyce insisted.

            “I’ll handle it, Sarge,” Private Pinc volunteered. “I need to stretch my legs anyway.”

            “Is that so?” The Sergeant didn’t buy his sudden desire for work. “Well, if you want to check it out, I want you there and back in ten cycles[3]. I don’t want you taking another of your twenty cycle fogger breaks.”

            “Fine, fine, I’ll be quick,” Pinc threw up his hand before he jumped to his feet, grabbed his laser rifle, and sauntered out.

            “Private Char, Corporal Reg, watch the security systems and make sure he actually investigates,” Tyce ordered.

            “Yes, sir,” they said in unison.

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            Pinc decided to take a drag on his fogger while he walked to save time. If the Sergeant was going to time him down to the microcycle, he had little time to waste. Besides, he needed the hit, and it’s not like he expected to find much of anything. Char was right to be skeptical, those random blips were always a meteor raet, and Pinc was tired of Tyce acting like it was an intergalactic emergency every time the security system pinged with another false positive.

            The Private turned a corner as he counted the numbered air vents, 28, 29, 30, 31, before finally reaching 32 near the end of a hallway. He popped open the vent with a standard issue utility tool (no soldier leaves home without it, although Pinc usually used it to crack open liquor canisters), before readying his rifle in case the raet tried to attack him like the incident with Lunk last week. In the worst case, Pinc had both his stunner and his ploder charges on him. Of course, the Sergeant would blow a gasket if he used one of those inside the outpost, but since he was already in trouble, Pinc didn’t care.

            However, instead of a fat, nasty rodent, Pinc found what looked like a young girl stuck upside down in the vent. He took a moment to make sure his eyes were, in fact, functioning properly before taking a few steps back and arming his laser rifle.

            “Well, this is embarrassing,” S7 laughed. “You wouldn’t be willing to help a girl out, would you? Would you, would you?”

            “…” Wordlessly, Pinc shook his head and leveled his rifle at the stuck cyborg.

            “You wouldn’t shoot a helpless opponent, would you? Would you, would you?” S7 exclaimed.

            ‘We’ve been desperate for excitement, but I ain’t stupid enough to take risks with someone crazy enough to climb through our vents,’ Pinc thought as he fired his rifle. But right as he pulled the trigger, S7 sucked in her gut and zipped back up the vent, as if propelled by an unseen hand. The laser bolt only struck the vent, leaving Pinc confused as he didn’t see what happened, just that she was suddenly gone. That’s when a vent above him burst open.

            “Hello, hello again,” S7 pounced on Pinc from above and started to grapple him. While she was smaller than he was, she was also annoyingly persistent, so it took him far longer than he expected to throw her off.

            “Eat this and die!” Pinc fired off a barrage of laser rounds, but only one hit home, striking S7 dead in the chest. The cyborg seemed hurt for a brief moment before laughing it off.

            “You’re not going to hurt me with that little, little peashooter,” S7 giggled. “That thing is for security guards protecting a drug store, not warring, warring warfare.”

            “I ain’t out of options,” Pinc reached for his ploder charges.

            “Wow, wow, wow, you could hurt someone with those,” S7 put up her hands.

            “You folded quick,” Pinc took a few steps back to build some distance. “What even are you?”

            “What, you’ve never seen a Cyangel before? Before this or before that?” S7 acted offended, but kept her hands up.

            “I’ve heard of you weirdos before, but I can’t say I’ve seen one until now,” Pinc rested his hand on the ploder charge. “But why are you here?”

            “Is that a tricky trick question?” S7 replied as she squeezed her fingers, causing a pair of ‘stingers’ to emerge from her wrist guards. The stingers were topped with a small node that emitted a surge of electricity, stunning Pinc and causing him to drop his rifle.

            ‘Feels like I’ve been electrocuted, or worse,’ Pinc went blind with pain. It was so bad that it took him several agonizing seconds to realize S7 had jumped onto his back again and was trying to choke him out.

            “Go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep,” S7 repeated as she squeezed him harder.

            “Get…get off,” Pinc muttered as he slammed her into the wall several times to no avail. ‘No…if the laser didn’t hurt her, then slamming her won’t be enough, but I wonder how much voltage she can take.’ The private spied a fuse box and tried to charge it.

            “Eekity Eek,” S7 leaped off him before he could fry them both. Pinc stumbled as she jumped away, but managed to right himself, albeit still shaky.

            “Lose your nerve, you little freak?” Pinc spat.

            “No, no, no, I got what I needed,” she held up her hands, revealing a grenade pin on both index fingers.

            “Shi-” Pinc’s heart dropped as the whole world went white.

\<~--~>/

            “Faster, Private!” Tyce shouted as he and Char raced to Pinc’s location. He thanked his lucky stars that his men had kept a close eye on Pinc through the cameras, or else they might not have realized there really was an intruder until it was far too late. Now they just had to cross their fingers and hope Pinc would be fine on his own until they got there. “Reg, do you still have eyes on the fight?” The Sergeant said into the communicator built into his wrist.

            “Camera feed is disrupted, sir!” Reg replied, “Something went off. It might have been a ploder charge.”

            “I didn’t hear a ploder charge,” Char commented, “we’d have all felt that.”

            “Then what the hell is happening?” Tyce wondered aloud as they neared Pinc’s location.

\<~--~>/

            ‘I’m…alive?’ Pinc’s ears were ringing while his vision slowly came back. “That sneak, she triggered my stunners, not the ploders…but what is her game?”

            “A fun, funny game,” S7 whispered in his ear from behind him as she jabbed him in the back of the neck with her stinger. Pinc almost didn’t feel it, he was still so disoriented, but the deepest part of his subconscious still sensed the tiny prick, and it made his skin crawl. Hearing Tyce and Char coming from around the corner, S7 retreated into the shadows and disappeared into another vent as Pinc failed to stay on his feet.

            “P….he….?” The Private heard through the haze.

            “Pin….you…w..h us?” The ringing began to fade as Pinc could perceive the world again.

            “Private Pinc, answer me!” Tyce pleaded. Pinc finally realized he had collapsed onto the floor, and Tyce and Char were standing over him, trying to rouse him.

            “F-fine, Sergeant,” Pinc managed to say, “just a little spooked and humiliated.” Pinc got back on his feet, but just as he felt stable, a wave of nausea and a sense of doom forced him back to his knees.

            “Fine, my ass. Char, help me move him,” the Sergeant ordered as the two picked up their debilitated comrade. “What happened?”

            “It...it...it was a freaking Cyangel, Sarge,” Pinc said as he tried to push down another wave of nausea. “I thought they were loons, but I couldn’t do a thing to her. Give me a sec to get over this stu...st...stunner, and I’ll go kick her ass.”

            “Forget about that, Private,” Tyce shook his head. “We’re heading back to the control room, and we’ll deal with this intruder as a unit.” Tyce and Char carried Pinc back to safety, oblivious to S7 watching them from the vents with a mischievous, yet malicious, grin.

To Be Continued…

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[1] A solar cycle is roughly equivalent to a year.

[2] A lunar cycle is roughly equivalent to a month.

[3] A cycle is roughly equivalent to a minute.

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No matter how tedious or boring a job, never lose focus and never slack off. You never know when you might learn the hard way why your job exists in the first place.

Author's Note: Apologies for this story being late, the next part should be ready to go next week. I just haven't had the time or the energy to write in the past several weeks, just a mixture of having to work, getting sick and other responsibilities eating up my time. I'm hopefully past the rough spot now.

As for the story itself, well I leave those details for when I post the last part, but consider this a follow up to the previous "Free Will is Overrated" (FWiO) story. I plan on making it more of anthology rather than following any one place or group, slowly following the Cyangel's effect on the galaxy. And yes I'm going to keep the wildly varying tone, expect thing to get freakier in the next two parts. 

Until next time, Read, Comment and Enjoy.