First Contact

The day outside the macroplas windows was a cloudy one, with rain pattering the window in quiet whisper that could barely be heard in the half-staffed control room. People in comfortable clothing sat at the control stations, sometimes moving to confer with one other, other times just moving to sit next to someone and lean against them.

At the master control terminal sat a tired looking man, with coarse gray hair, lines on his face, and tired, red-rimmed eyes. He was staring at the screens in front of him as he pecked with one hand at the keyboard.

Beside him sat a large man. Dark skin, shaved head, heavy lantern jaw, thick of bone and muscle, with his scarred face and scalp tattooed. Next to him sat a dog made entirely of warsteel, its synthetic tongue hanging out as it panted with happiness at being scratched between the ears. Next to him a lighter skinned brown man leaned against a console, picking at his fingernails with a datachip that looked like an ancient guitar pick.

"Still nearly a trillion people to process just to The Detainee, not to mention that backlog," the tired looking man said. He sighed and stretched, his shoulder popping with a loud crack that made the man wince and several people look up for a second before going back to their work. "The majority of the repairs are well underway."

"That's good," the heavy set man said, staring out the window. "Any closer to figuring out if she got away?"

"Why worry, Dax?" the lighter skinned man asked, not looking up from his fingernails. "Are you going to hunt her down and shoot her in the back of the head?"

Daxin chuckled and shook his head. "No, Dhruv. She didn't have to run. She's no worse than you or I."

The tired man shrugged. "Of course she ran. I could use her help, she's forgotten more about how the mat-trans system works than all of us here put together know."

Daxin scratched FIDO's petting nerve with one hand as he reached out and grabbed the narcobrew next to him with the other. "It just doesn't feel right that after everything she did here, she's on the run."

"So you don't think she's dead?" Dhruv/Legion asked.

Daxin shook his head. "She's a survivor, like us," he turned to the tired man. "She gave you the idea to sell off all of those assets, Pete. I know you didn't think of it on your own."

Peter frowned. "Why not?"

Daxin looked back out the window. "I'm not saying you aren't smart enough, what I'm saying is that the method you used, dumping everything on the stock market, marking them for liquidation, selling off the physical, monetary, and other assets, isn't the type of warfare or activities you're exactly known for."

Peter looked at the screen, tapped a few keys, then looked back. "She didn't exactly tell me to do it, now that I think about it," he sighed, looking back at the screen and tapping a few more keys. "Is it weird that I miss her? She was psychotic, cruel, and antagonistic, but I miss her."

Daxin chuckled. "Yeah. She was something else."

"Kept us on our toes," Legion said, smiling. "You could see the pistons firing behind her eyes no matter what she was looking at. Figuring the angles."

A woman got up and moved next to Pete. "Marco?"

"Yeah?" Peter/Marco said, looking up and smiling.

"We've got something weird on the Gestalt channels," she said.

"What?" Peter asked.

The woman leaned over his shoulder, tapping on the keyboard and twiddling her fingers to move the pointer to move through menus quickly. "The Gestalt channels were pretty hashed, but still performing their basic functions, but there's an odd set here."

Peter leaned forward, looking closely. "Huh. So that's how it works."

"What?" Legion asked, looking up and tucking the datachip in his pocket.

"The way we hear prayers. Dedicated Gestalt channel with context and circumstance bias weighting," Peter said. He scrolled through some data, opened a couple windows, scrolled through the contents, then looked up. "Anyone near an I/O port, or has a datalink, or is on a com channel, that says out names in a certain way with certain voice stress levels and pre-determined context and surrounding circumstances, we hear it," he frowned. "Looks like for the most part we've got a lot of later bolted on filters."

Daxin looked over at Dhruv. "You understand all that?"

Legion nodded. "Praying people have a checklist so we can hear them."

Daxin just grunted and looked at the window.

"That's not the issue," the woman said. She tapped on the keys a few more time, still twiddling her fingers. "There. That one. It opened recently and has had some process calls, but now it's got dozens of them."

"Did you check the linkage ID?" Peter asked.

The woman nodded. "Recent addition, same time as the channel was originally opened up," she tapped a few more keys. "See, in the log file, this was opened up about a day before you pulled us all out of the queue."

Daxin looked up. "Who's ID is it?"

Peter shrugged. "It's a system ID, self-modifying and automatically adjusting, but its core is the same."

"You should probably find out," Daxin said. He got up, twisting his torso to the right and left at the waist, making his spine crackle. He looked at Legion. "Can you still get us out of here?"

Legion nodded. "Yeah."

Daxin touched his implant. "Kalki, you awake?"

"Yes, brother," Kalki answered.

"Bellona near you?"

"Yes."

"Tell her to start praying, see if she can get our Digital Father's attention," Daxin said. He looked down at FIDO. "Warm up your warboi systems, boy."

FIDO barked happily.

Peter looked up. "I figured out who it is," he said. He looked down then back up. "That Vuxten kid and his green mantid buddy, their ID's are paired. They're into something, something bad."

"How many jumps?" Legion asked. He closed his eyes and was suddenly wrapped in purple mist that cleared away to reveal that Legion had gone from comfortable clothing to light unpowered infantry armor and adaptive camouflage.

"Dozens," Peter said. "He's started popping from world to world. Sometimes light decades apart."

"How many of him are there?" Daxin asked.

Peter looked at the screen then back. "Currently, sixty and rising, all engaged in heavy combat."

"His brain can't take that if he's running unfiltered," Legion said. "It messed us up hard for a few decades, hell, it killed Dee."

Daxin nodded and looked at Peter. "Lock him down on his next jump," he looked at Legion. "Me and Dhruv will try to help him, pull him out of it. If we can stabilize him, try to lock out the signals until our Digital Father can help him."

Peter nodded, tapping at the keys. "His primary manifestation avatar is making a jump," Peter made a tossing motion to Legion. "That work?"

Legion nodded. "Let's roll," he touched Daxin's shoulder. "I'll dress you on the jump."

Daxin nodded and the two men and the war hound vanished in a puff of purple smoke.

The woman looked down at Peter/Marco. "What did they do to you?" she asked softly, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"It's a long story," Peter said, tilting his head to rest it against the back of her hand. "A really long story."

-----

The taste of hot burning metal, blood, and electric strawberries were thick in Vuxten's mouth as his feet crashed into the ground. The ornate M318 was already warmed up, the firing lever in his hand, as Vuxten took in the scene in less than a second.

The planetary defense was being overwhelmed by the Atrekna, who were forcing their way into the city. Insects were fluttering through the air, smaller insects the size of a small car were swarming through the streets, and larger ones were slowly moving down the roads.

The red haze filled his vision, rang in his ears, filled his mind.

"NO MORE!" Vuxten bellowed out.

"INERTIA IS WITH YOU!" screeched over the speakers right afterwards.

Behind him the Planetary Defense stopped their route, turning and staring. Vuxten could see officers, or maybe just people who weren't panicked, start yelling orders and pushing the Planetary Defense troops into organized lines.

Vuxten turned the M318 on the onrushing swarm, bracing his feet, feeling the gravity spike corkscrew into the ground to keep him steady as he clenched his hand on the firing grip and the M318 went to rapid fire.

Vuxten panned the barrel back and forth, keeping it level, shattering rows of insects that kept swarming over their dead. For every one that Vuxten killed another dozen took their place, even as the grenade launcher and missile launcher began coughing out their loads.

Vuxten stood his ground, firing into the face of the enemy. Even if they ripped him apart, he had broken their lines for a moment, given the Planetary Defense time to rally.

Victory or Death.

Either was fine.

The insects were less than a dozen paces from him when it happened.

The sun seemed to flicker and go out. A cold wind blew across the battlefield as the second seemed to freeze.

The insects drew back, almost as if they were suddenly afraid.

There was the clanging of great iron doors above Vuxten but he paid it no mind as he kept directing his firepower into the now-stilled swarm.

"LET THIS WORLD QUAKE IN THE NAME OF LOST TERRASOL!" roared out over the battlefield. The sound of heavy iron chains clattering sounded out.

The heavily armored form that landed next to Vuxten was familiar, memorable enough that it cut through the haze of wrath and rage filling Vuxten's mind.

"Enraged Phillip is with you, brother," the massive human roared out, adding his own heavy cannon fire to Vuxten's.

Together the two advanced into the swarm even as the Planetary Guard stared in shock.

In less than ten minutes the Atrekna assault's main thrust was broken, the Atrekna themselves reeling away from the rage, the anger, the wrath pouring off of the duo. The Dwellerspawn swarm had broken up, fleeing with their masters.

Vuxten could hear it in his head.

be with me now

be with the children

help them

help her

help him

just a little help

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

"Brother," the voice rumbled. "Hold fast."

Vuxten swallowed, trying to push the voices away.

They only got louder. Individual ones gaining strength, gaining desperation, becoming clearer.

Vuxten felt everything pull in, suck into itself, felt himself buffeted, thrown, and pummeled as he moved through everywhere and nowhere at once.

He landed, on one knee, in dirt.

Next to a handful of tents and a campfire surrounded by logs.

The voices went silent.

Vuxten bowed his head, gritting his teeth.

"I couldn't... I can't... I needed..." he managed to get out through locked jaws.

"I know, brother," Daxin said, kneeling down next to him. "I remember how loud they were for me."

"I'm just... I'm just a janitor. I'm just a normal Telkan," Vuxten managed to get out. "I'm not... I'm not worthy, not able... not enough."

Daxin triggered the override and Vuxten's helmet folded up.

The hump on the back retracted and the little green mantid dropped to the ground, staggering away to lean against one of the fallen logs. FIDO moved over next to him and sat down and 471 shifted to lean against the big cybernetic hound.

"I too felt the same," Daxin said. "Daxin Freeborn, the Walking War Crime, an Apostle," he gave a self-mocking chuckle. "Then I could hear them calling out to me, and worse, I could answer."

Vuxten raised his head and looked at the stars. "They're gone. I can't hear the whispers," he looked at Daxin. "I thought I was going crazy. The doctors couldn't find anything wrong with me."

"No, you aren't mad, you really were hearing them," Daxin said. "Pop your shell, come sit with me."

The big human stood up, going into the odd pose humans used to put the armor at rest. There was a double chirp and the armor unfolded, revealing Daxin in a pilot's suit.

Vuxten stood up and cracked his armor, stepping out.

"Eh, fur's good enough," Daxin said. He went over to the tent and looked inside, then to the next one. He gave a grunt. "Should have known it would be in her tent," he raised up with a case of narcobrew in one hand.

Vuxten moved over and sat down on the log, reaching down to touch 471 for a moment. Daxin sat next to him, cracking open one of the bottles and handing it to the Telkan.

"It's quiet here," Vuxten said softly.

"It's a dead world and it's cut from the system," Daxin said softly. "The system can't reach you here for that part."

The brush rustled and Vuxten ignored that the panel in Daxin's thigh popped open and the pistol slid out and into the human's hand.

"It's just me," Legion said, stepping out of the brush. He looked at Vuxten. "You OK, kid?"

Vuxten shook his head. "I don't know. My head really hurts," he looked down and realized with some shock that blood was dripping from his nose. "I've got a bloody nose."

Legion snagged a beer from the crate and sat down. He took a drink them put his hand on the back of Vuxten's neck. "Yeah. Your brain is trying to put all the memories in the same place at once. It's not a stroke, just slight overpressure. It'll clear up in a couple minutes. Keep your head tilted forward so you don't get blood clots in your sinuses."

"I don't want this," Vuxten said softly, staring at the small drops of red in the dirt. "But how can I turn away? People need me. I can't walk away. Someone has to do it, right?"

Daxin nodded and looked at Legion. "He sounds like us."

Legion nodded. "Yeah, he does."

"What does it tell people if I walk away from this? That I think I'm too good for it? That I'm too weak? That the Telkan people can't shoulder such a mantle?" Vuxten asked, clasping his hands together.

Daxin patted Vuxten's leg then took a swig of the narcobrew. "Kid, you fought in Heaven next to the Devil at the side of the Apostles of the Digital Omnimessiah. You defended the Digital Omnimessiah himself and almost died doing it. None of us think you're weak," he took another swig. "I was on Telkan, remember? I've seen your people. They're good people, brave people."

"This isn't signing up at the recruiter, Vux," Legion said softly. "This is a terrible burden. A heavy burden," he gave a long sigh. "There were times that we were not up to the burden."

471 climbed up on the log and rested against Vuxten. Legion plucked a leaf from a bush and tipped the bottle slightly, dribbling a few drops on to the leaf. He handed it to 471, who took it and sipped at the drops.

"I spent thousands of years refusing to lift back up the mantle," Daxin said. He finished off the bottle and set it in the case, grabbing another one. "My flesh grew cold and I had surgeons cut it away until I was nothing more than a brain in a jar."

"I was simply Victor, humble worker at a genetic clinic," Legion said. "Do you know why the original Biological Apostles scattered?"

Vuxten shook his head slightly.

"We realized a horrible truth and it almost broke us," Daxin said. He looked up at the stars. "They're out there, right now, calling out our names, many of them desperate, but there's a truth to the universe that we had to accept."

Vuxten swallowed thickly. "What?"

"We can't save them all," Legion said softly. "Detainee's tits, kid, we can barely save ourselves half the time."

Vuxten looked up. "I want to help. I don't want to walk away," he looked back down. "But I just want to go home to my family. To my wife, my broodcarriers, my podlings."

Legion stared at the dark firepit for a long moment. "Pete's trying to figure something out."

Daxin nodded. "Pete's smart. Smarter than me, that's for sure."

"Smarter than me in some ways," Legion said. He chuckled. "Says the short-life menial labor clone."

That made Daxin chuckle.

Vuxten went to open his mouth when the fire roared up, scarlet and vermillion and indigo.

From the fire stepped a young woman clad only in swathes of diaphanous silk, her flesh bluish-white and coldly beautiful, blackish blood staining her neck and the top of the swells of her breasts. Her eyes burned with purple fire as she held one hand out.

"Rejoice! For he approaches, our Digital Father, the Digital Omnimessiah Reborn, the Code Made Flesh, the Intercessor of our Mother/Father the Malevolent Universe," the woman burbled. She took two steps forward. "Rejoice! For he is among you, not to judge, but to..."

"Bellona, it's us," Daxin rumbled, interrupting her.

The woman seemed to blink, going silent and still. She gave a slight shake of her head. "Oh. Sorry."

Legion tossed her a chilled bottle and she caught it, cracking it open in almost a habitual movement. She took a drink then moved over and sat down.

"He's on his way," she said, somewhat lamely.

"Would have never guessed," Daxin mumbled.

Bellona looked at Vuxten for a moment. "Oh," she said softly. "Your fate is nigh," she reached out and touched his knee. "Don't be afraid, Vuxten," she said. "Just be yourself, be honest. Nobody here is going to judge you."

That made Daxin give another low chuckle and made Legion smile.

The glittering form of the Digital Omnimessiah stepped from the bushes.

"I hear you have need of me, my son," he said to Vuxten.