Chapter Text
The heat of the Lift-182 conducted even through the metal carapace of Morrison’s armor, and she could hear the troopers’ laser shots blitzing past her head and her leg armor may as well have been lead for all she could run at that point. Another shot whizzed past on her right, not an inch from her helmet, but was too much blood dripping into her eye to see it.
“Shit!” She meant to yell, but it left her throat a growl, the breath from her lungs beating the front of her helmet like a metronome. Around her, the air on Merak smelled only of smoke and sulfur.
The 182 emitted a blip, still cooling, still too hot. The space cadet, what was his name, Rees, yes, barely scrambled down the slope in front of the bunker, the area a foot above his helmet clouded with red bolts, before a devastator’s shotgun went off somewhere behind Morrison and she stumbled, pebbles underneath her feet sent scattering by shells. A second later, Rees popped his head over the lip of the ditch to set down his liberator, but dropped back down before he could do even that.
“SERGEANT!” He screamed, voice raw and ragged. “BEHIND YOU!”
“I fucking know!” She shouted back, before her shadow appeared running ahead of her, cast with a red gleam. Oh shit, she hardly had time to consciously think it, before she dove forward and warped, felt a sudden swell of nausea, the split-second contortion of her limbs, and liberty, why can’t I breathe, before her chest met the gravel in front of the bunker with a thud, punching the remaining air from her lungs.
The tank shot melted a hole in the bunker door the next instant.
Morrison tried to roll over and gasp, but ended up expelling it all in a scream instead as pain exploded in her chest, ribs splintered and spiderwebbed with fresh cracks. Already, her hands were fumbling at her AD-49, Epoch forgotten on the ground, but her fingers only hit the canisters. She tasted iron on her palette as she shrieked;
“I’M OUT OF STIMS!”
Rees spun to take in her prone form, trembling and screaming in the dirt without a visible injury. “But- how- you’re injured?”
“THIS FUCKING BACKPACK, AGH,” she groaned, “IT’S MY- democracy, shit- STIM ME!”
He fumbled at his belt, nearly dropping his liberator in the frenzy, “I- I only have one!”
“DAMMIT CADET!”
Finally, he tossed it, staggering back. It hit the dirt somewhere to her right, impossible to see through the stinging red curtain, and it is several agonizing seconds of scrabbling at gravel before her fingers close around the syringe. The needle sliding into her neck is, for one fleeting half-second, bliss.
It’s another second before she was back on her feet, swinging the Epoch back onto her shoulder. In that second, the space cadet was already halfway up the wall, firing indiscriminately into the horde enclosing them like a snare trap. Without warning, he dropped back down, his feet and empty magazine hitting the dirt at the same time.
“Can we hide in the bunker?” He said, voice fraying at the edges.
Morrison barked out a laugh. “If you want to wait for the door,” another tank bolt hit the bunker, raining shards of concrete against the broken glass of her visor. “I don’t.”
“This is my last mag,” he breathed, tears audible in the back of his throat. “Where’s the captain?”
“They fucking jammed us, that’s where. She has no idea we’re even here.”
In both of their helmets, the empty crackle of comms continued, inaudible over the suppressing gunfire. Their stratagem beacons hung limp on their belts, like dead fish on a line. Beside the beacons, Morrison’s fingers closed around an arc grenade, and she felt herself click the button as the top of the bunker was bathed again in red. Her hand was stabbed with pins and needles even through the gloves. The third tank shot melted a second hole beside the first, and Morrison tossed the grenade out where the shot came from, hefting the Epoch to a shoulder and leaping up.
Somewhere above the bunker came the first shout, “G̴R̵A̵N̶A̸T̴A̵!̸ ̴P̶A̵D̷A̶I̵!̸”
The first blast of the arc grenade was punctuated with garbled, inhuman shouts, troopers sent scrambling out of formation and out of the blast radius. The tank was left wide open. The arc blasted once, twice, and the humming Epoch on her shoulder began to vibrate painfully. She saw a commissar that dropped to the ground to avoid the grenade look at her for one long instant, the next, it raised its pistol. She releases the trigger just before it kills her and Rees both.
“K̶U̷R̸V̸A̸!̸” Something shouted, the commissar, she thinks, who turned back to watch when the Epoch hit the tank behind it in a flash of blue. Immediately, the tank erupted into a plume of orange fire, spraying twisted metal and shrapnel into the air.
She dropped back down on instinct, stumbling to a knee underneath the burst of laser fire. She kicked the Epoch’s spent cartridge out of the chamber with a curse, listening as the garbled chatter and percussive beat of the marching bots crept closer. Words cut in and out of the AD-26’s radio – T̵A̸N̴K̴ ̸U̶N̸I̷C̶H̴T̶O̶Z̴H̶E̷N̴A̷ – MIA – Ģ̶̂̀d̶͎̳̈́ẽ̸͙̄ ̴̺͈͋k̷̖͔̓͑ǫ̸͚̍͂n̷̜͔̍v̷̤̗̒͝ȯ̶̺̫͝y̸̮͚̔?̸̭̼̀͠!̸̗̂̎ – Eagle 1 – D̸̟̠̲̠̞̀̿͋̿͌͠͝I̷̢̛̠̲̾̒̀͐̚͝͝V̴̮̬̦̤̮̝̬̌̀̿͗͊́̍Ē̶̢̢̜̃̈́̋̌́̄͠R̵̗͈̜̤͍̽̒̏̐ ̶̨̲̮̬̝͖̦͐Ş̶̟͖̲̤͕̅͋̐̀V̴̹͕̞̩͖̽͂̑̐̀̈́͝O̷̭͍̤̯̎̿͑̊̚͘L̸͍̭͔̺̿ͅO̷̧͖͕̓C̶͖̯̟̔̆̊͂͋̚̚̚H̸̡͓͍̥͙̫̱̑̇ – like blinking lights.
“I think I pissed them off,” Morrison panted, looking back at Rees as she punched in the fresh cartridge.
“They’re just- they don’t feel anything. The Ministry of Truth-”
Morrison hefted the Epoch again, groaning, “they can go to hell.”
“The bots or…” Rees froze almost comically. “Are you- SERGEANT- “
The rest of his sudden shout was drowned out by the blast of a devastator’s shotgun. Morrison’s knees crumpled underneath her like wet tissue paper, and she already knew what happened even before the agony erupted in her chest, her neck, her shoulders. The last thing she registered was her back hitting the gravel.
Then there was a whirr and a mechanical pulse as the pumps on her chestpiece triggered, replacing the thrum of her heart with a mechanized beat. Her vision flicked back on, like a lightswitch, black and blurry in patches, and she fought a sudden upwell of nausea before her stomach and throat went numb. She could still feel the Epoch in her grip, her nerve endings flickered in and out of consciousness, and watched the gold sparks of Rees’ rounds skitter across the devastator’s armor, watched the shield and the arm attached to it hit the ground. She pulled back the Epoch’s trigger and released immediately, striking the devastator square in the chest, the explosion blasting them back against the wall the next split-second.
By the time she clawed herself back to her feet, stumbling to and fro like a sailboat in a choppy sea, the Automatons had surrounded them in force, lining the tops of the walls like crenellations and advancing down the ramp, led by a commissar, the same one, and she could see the black hole of his pistol’s barrel. Rees was still down, trapped by the red bolts above his head. Her lungs spasmed as she filled them, and her own shout sounded miles away.
“WE SURRENDER!”
Immediately, the commissar raised its blade beside its head, the red-hot metal warping the air, and barked, “P̴r̴e̸k̶r̷a̴t̷i̴t̸e̴ ̴o̶g̵o̷n̷!̵”
The bolts stopped. A ripple passed through their ranks, the force retreated a step, some weapons lowered, others raised. Directly above her, she could hear a berserker whirr its chainsaws, seemingly for show. The commissar hadn’t moved an inch, stock still, and its pistol was still trained at the spot right between her brows.
“We surrender.” She repeated, hand on the strap of her Epoch. It clattered onto the gravel, kicking up dust, a stray blue arc shooting between the rods. The motion made her lurch forwards, and the Automaton’s weapons bristled upwards in response, like porcupine quills.
“P̵o̵d̸n̵i̴m̶i̶t̴e̵ ̷r̷u̸k̵i̶.̴” The commissar said, its voice a dissonant drone. When she didn’t move, it flicked its gun up, and said, in a language she could understand; “Y̷o̸u̶r̸ ̶h̴a̵n̸d̷s̴,̵ ̵d̴i̶v̴e̵r̸.̴ ̴R̸a̴i̷s̵e̴ ̷t̶h̷e̸m̸.̴”
Obediently, she put her hands up, just above her head, swaying a little on her feet.
“T̶e̴l̴l̵ ̸h̴i̸m̶ ̵t̴o̵ ̸d̵o̵ ̶t̷h̸e̸ ̴s̴a̶m̵e̶.̴”
Rees seemed to snap out of a trance, and Morrison could imagine wide eyes underneath his visor as he turned to her, shakily getting to his feet. “How are you alive? What the hell are you doing?!”
“I’m not. Put your hands up, Rees.”
“What?!”
“That’s an order, cadet!”
“No. I won’t do it. You forfeited your ability to give orders,” his hands tightened on the grip of his liberator. “You’re a traitor! To Super Earth and to democracy! These monsters are just going to throw us into their bio-processors, you- ”
Above them, the sharp rev of a chainsaw made him flinch. “̸̨͍̩̙̖̆́͘͝Ÿ̴̗̖́̓̅̂̒͊O̷̧̻̝̖̔̽̒͜ͅ-̴̛͕̫͉̳̯ͅỴ̴̧̰̣͔̓̕O̷̖̱̓̋͒͋̓͐U̴͔̳͒̐͒͘̚͠ ̸̨͙̹͎͉͗͑͛͒W̵͙̥̑Ḁ̸̛̣̖̼̉N̶̥̙͉̻͕͑T̸̢͔̖̍̑̿̉̎͠ ̵̩̌̈T̶̞̺̕O̷̡̠̮̓͆ ̸͕̱̱̏̆͑D̸̮̻͇̥̲̳̓͐I̵͈͙̘̊̀E̵̛͓̪̖̥̭̿͊ͅ-̷͈͚͙͐̄͗͛Ḑ̷͉̼̲͙̓͌̑I̶͇̬̯̥̝̒͒E̵̼̬̳͕͕̐̽͐,̶̬̫̗̓͋ ̴̗̗̟̳͔̈́K̸̪̺̱͑̿͂͘͜Ȗ̴̞̺̻̩̣͈̑͐̒R̵̢͖͇͇̘͋́͑͗͗͛͜A̸̡̞̮̬͓̠̒͆̈́?̷̘̰̥̮̭͍̑̅͋̔”̶̧̻̊̎͒͂
“T̷o̸v̷a̶r̷i̸s̴h̴c̵h̷.̴” The commissar said, curtly. The berserker went quiet.
“Cadet.” Morrison warned.
“Liberty doesn’t surrender.” He said, as the stock of his liberator met his shoulder, finger on the trigger. Morrison reacted on instinct, right hand snapping down to the grip of her talon.
There is a flash of yellow, and the whipcrack of a laser weapon firing, followed by the heavy thump of an armored corpse dropping to the dirt. Space Cadet Rees lay motionless, surrounded by a sea of impassive red eyes, as the hot orange hole in his helmet cooled to black. Only after this did the sound of an AR-23 Liberator clicking empty register in Morrison’s head.
Why do they keep sending… Poor kid… Dulce et decorum… Pro patria… Ah, goddamn… Morrison stumbled back against the wall, unable to form even a single complete thought. Her synapses no longer fired in rhythm, the fluid in the Apollonian’s pumps exhausted. Her vision danced with dark spots. Her shoulders twitched into something like a shrug, and she tossed her talon to the gravel, or it flew from her grip, she isn’t sure, to skitter to the feet of an Automaton trooper.
She listed to the side, suddenly, towards the commissar, legs stumbling out of sync underneath her. The commissar shouted, “d̵i̶v̵e̴r̷!̵ ̷H̶a̴n̶d̶s̶ ̵u̴p̵!̷ ̸H̷E̸L̸L̷D̶I̷V̵E̷R̷!̶” but she could no longer hear.
She was dead before she even hit the ground, her body lying at his feet.