Stormfall - Chapter 6

We spilled out the back of the museum into a narrow loading dock situated in a bay. Hard to miss the Rekon Arcology once I stopped checking for things trying to kill me. It was towering, ugly, and had lightning flashing ominously around it.

Black Dog snorted coldly and shook his head. “Looks right out of a cheesy slasher movie.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t follow the same plot. I really don’t want to be the final girl.” The lightning probably just loved tall things… probably.

”What was that, ma’am?” Velos asked from behind me.

“Nothing… just talking to myself.” I hopped off the loading bay down into the alley. Rancid water splashed up around my boots. Oh joy.

We snaked through the alley and exited out onto a torn apart street just before the Rekon Arcology. Craters pocketed the place, and entire sections of buildings were ruined. Transports were thrown on their side like something massive kicked the shit out of them just for fun. 

The arcology itself stood with massive gates ajar. They were half torn off their hinges and covered in marks like something massive had chewed its way into the complex without bothering to knock.

We shuffled into the gargantuan arcology. Our boots tapped over pitted stone covered in grime. The very air inside of the arcology felt different—sharper, almost. Maybe it was just me looking to deep into things, though.

Shattered furniture formed half-assed riot walls all over the place. Up above, a bullet-ridden banner hung sagged with a faded slogan. Your Future Is Here! Your future is Now! You Belong In Rekon!

Ugh—corporate slogans… they were just the worst. I had to deal with an unfortunate number of them in recent years. The worst one was always Your future is in your hands! Nothing stung like having your own lack of control thrown in your face.

“How did people live in places like this?” Morose broke the silence.

”Easily.” Fleff answered from her side. “These places are designed to never let their people go once they get in. They’re a consistent cow to be milked by whatever corporation owns them.”

”It’s not as bad as you make it out.” Johnson cut into their conversation. “They’re fine enough for living. Just a bit cramped.”

”Cut the chatter.” Velos interrupted the trio before they could say much more. Bummer. I was actually kinda interested in hearing about arcology life. 

We kept moving deeper into the arcology. The squad tightened their formation without needing to be told to. Rifles raised, and we moved across dark corridors with flashlights guiding our way. 

The deeper we went, the more the arcology changed. Broken furniture turned into proper barricades. Looted storefronts gave way to hastily welded gates and sandbags. Bullet holes lined the walls like someone had tried to hold out here.

We stumbled across a mound of scattered military crates. It was all old stuff, though. Taj Jamaal markers covered most of them. Fleff stopped at one and kicked at a dusty lid. “Think this was their HQ?”

“Maybe.” I looked around the place. Bullet holes lined the walls even here, yet there were no bodies. “Keep your eyes up. Something doesn’t feel right about this place.” 

One hall came pre-painted in ancient blood. It was fresher than most of the barricades, and recent enough to make my skin crawl. No bodies, though. Just drag marks, gouged tiles, and gouges far too deep to be caused by a human hand.

“We’re closing in.” Fleff finally had something useful to say. “Should be almost right on top of Saber-Three’s radioman.”

An atrium at the heart of the building opened up in front of us. It was a massive space that stretched dozens of stories up into the arcology. It was the center that Saber-Three’s final call for help came from before it was sharply cut off.

We moved forward slowly while panning over the entire space with flashlights that were far too dull to reach the other side. Dust hung like a heavy fog. It was stirred into a swirling haze that twisted everything halfway down my flashlight’s beam.

Velos made a series of gestures I actually understood. It was something like ‘split and search’. The squad split into chunks and circled the atrium wide. I took point with Fleff and Johnson just behind me and slid into the grand communal square.

The square itself was an overgrown garden of sorts. Trees and plants actually grew here safely away from the rain. They were held in stone planters and flanked by walking paths and broken lights. At some point, it would’ve been quite the beautiful garden. 

Now, it was a haunting sight of what once was and would never be again. It was a dead garden in a dead place. Heavy silence, the kind that didn’t want to be disturbed, settled across the entire place.

“I feel like I’m being watched,” I muttered under my breath. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck rising.

”You are.” Black Dog replied without a moment’s hesitation. “You're chaos with legs. Who knows what’ll happen if I look away.”

“I’m not that bad.” I scanned the balconies above—movement? No, no, just a banner flapping loosely from one of the floors. I dropped my rifle back into a loose sling. 

“You were saying?” Black Dog’s tail brushed the exposed skin of my arm. I flinched away, causing the dog to put on a slightly wounded expression for a beat. 

”Yup, well, this place is… unsettling.” I looked away. Although my voice was barely above a whisper, it carried loud in the empty atrium. The entire place sounded like an echo chamber.

A flash from the second floor balcony caught my eye—“Get down—!”

“Joy!” Black Dog slammed into me, cutting me off and knocking me to the ground. We rolled behind one of the stone planters.

Rat-tat-tat-tat!

Muzzles flashed through the disturbed dust like lightning captured in a bottle. A spray of debut and stone shard slammed into my helmet and exposed skin. Nothing could get through the low-grade dermal reinforcement, but I still felt the sting of cuts spreading across my body.

The squad around me splintered as soon as the first shot was fired. Everyone dove into cover with various levels of success. Fleff and Johnson were really the only two exposed soldiers since the rest of the squad moved around the atrium's outskirts. I rolled over and grabbed my rifle tightly. “Fleff! Johnson!” 

“I’m good!” Johnson called over the roar of gunshots. “Pinned down like a poster though!”

”Fleff!” I called out once more. He didn’t answer. I crawled behind the planter to get a better sightline, and spotted the man laying still on the ground just next to a planter. He wasn’t marked with any obvious injuries, but that wasn’t saying much.

”Weapons free!” Sergeant Velos called. The rounds slamming down around me instantly lessened as the rest of the squad suppressed the enemy.

”Black Dog.” I motioned toward Fleff. Black Dog was good—in close combat. His bulk and ability to control fire were strong, but once things spaced out he was better off for logistical stuff. “Drag him into cover.”

”Gotcha.” The massive hound took a breath and then darted out into the open space. He made it all of three sprints before taking a burst of rounds directly to the side. Sparks flared out from him and scattered across the space, though didn’t slow him down even a step.

Black Dog grabbed the strap of Flef’s armor and effortlessly dragged him to cover behind a planter. Then the large hound slumped against the side of the planter and dropped to the floor. His tail wagged in my direction as if to say I’m okay.

Rounds shattered the concrete of my cover. I dropped fully prone once more as return fire cracked over my head. Through the cracks in the stone, I stared up at our attackers. Shadowed forms on the second story were illuminated by the flashes of muzzles through the dust.

One of the shadows repositioned. His shadow flicked over another—another in Stormfall attire. Although the urban grays and blue blended in with the surroundings, the glimmer of a patch on their shoulder was unmistakable.

“HOLD YOUR FIRE!” I tried to shout over the clatter of combat. The fog of war was just as deafening as it was blinding. No one except Velos heard me, and by then it was too late. Our side shot back.

”Cease fire!” Velos dropped his rifle and dragged the closest merc back into cover before he could peak out and light up our attackers. A spray slammed into his chest, knocking the Sergeant to the ground. 

”Fuck!” I ducked behind the planter just as a torrent of bullets tore apart a pillar behind me. I slammed the transmit button on my helmet. The radio crackled to life with static. The jammer was still active, but my short-range should still get through. “Cease Fire! Iron-Four! We’re Stormfall!”

No response came immediately. A shout came from the balcony somewhere in between frantic and panicked. The sheer force of the shout broke over the sound of gunfire, and the exchange of rounds sputtered out.

”Hold your fire, damn it! Blue-on blue!” A voice rang through the rapidly quieting atrium. It was sharp and cutting.

”Weapons down!” I ordered in my most authoritative voice. The gunfire from both sides stuttered and then stopped altogether. 

That awful post-friendly fire silence filled the air. Although no one said it aloud, the horrible thought was clear. I hadn’t even fired a shout, and yet even my own breath came in sharp and stilted. Had I just shot my own guys?

I stayed in cover for another full ten seconds and counted each heartbeat carefully. Slowly, ready to throw myself back into the dirt at any moment, I peeked over the lip of the planter with my arms razed. No more shots came.

The shapes on the second floor pulled away from the balcony. A few stayed crouched with weapons ready, but not raised. A figure leaned out and waved. “Who the hell are you?!”

”Squire Joy, and—“ It suddenly hit me I still had no idea what squad I was rolling with. My eyes snapped back across them. Velos and Fleff were down for the count, so no one immediately stepped up to bat.

“Pike-Two!” Velmir finally shouted after several beats of silence. “Iron-Four?”

”Roger! You bastards nearly ventilated my whole damn team—“

”You shot first!“ Johnson shouted back.

“You ran into our AO with no IFF, radio, and you started crawling around like—!” The sharp man’s voice called once more, though cut off abruptly. After a moment, he came again with an entirely different pitch. “There’s stairs on the backside of the atrium. Move up here quick! We aren’t alone in this arcology.”

”Should’ve started with that,” I muttered under my breath and looked around the squad. Only three people were injured, and the medic was busy looking over them. Got off light, really.

No one immediately tried to take charge of the squad. Velos and Fleff were down. Morose was busy doing her actual job as a medic, and everyone else looked more soldier than leader. Said soldiers were starting to look twitchy. I’d been told plenty of times the best thing a grunt can have is orders—it keeps their minds off other things like nearly dying and inevitable death.

That just left me. Joy, the Squire, Psion, witch—I’d heard it all. That didn’t change the fact that I was the only person with actual authority still standing, nor that someone needed to step up. “How are we?”

”No KIA. Minor wounds, all things considered.” Morose’s voice came back detached and almost bored. “Could’ve been worse.”

”How are they?” I nodded my head to the injured. All three were gathered around Morose.

”Sarge is out. Knocked out by blunt force trauma.” Morose glanced up at my approach. “Fleff took a headshot, but his helmet kept it from being fatal. Finally, Kaya took a shot to the leg just below her thigh guards. Stable enough to move.”

My eyes snapped to Kaya. She was maybe two years older than me, and had the basic rifleman kit of Stormfall. Also built like a brick. I swear, Stormfall only hired those with ancient super-soldier DNA in them or something. 

Regardless, her injury didn’t look too severe. The bone was still sheathed in flesh at least. I’d definitely seen, and caused, way worse in the pit. She’d be fine rubbing some dirt in it so we could move.

I nodded sharply and motioned around for the rest of the squad. “Form up! Some of you come carry the injured! The rest, spread out and keep your eyes peeled!”

”Ma’am!” A chorus of replies echoed out and the squad splintered once more. Morose hastily filled the one with a leg wound up using some kind of foam that stopped the bleeding, and then she picked her up.

While the squad moved, I swapped my attention to Black Dog. He was still prone by the planter. His breaths came in short and fast, and his side constantly rose and fell. He looked up weakly toward me—

“Cut it out, mutt. I know you’re not seriously injured.” I stopped walking towards the dramatic hound.

The facade faded away entirely and Black Dog hopped to his paws. He staggered slightly, but he was still far above where he’d been acting. “Mutt, huh? Been a while since you called me that. Was it too soon?”

“Way too soon.” I shook my head and sighed at his antics. “I don’t have time right now.”

“I figured it’d be a relief to see your reliable companion completely fine.” He glanced toward me, and then looked away. “Guess not.”

”…” I dropped my rifle into its sling and crouched down beside him. “You are fine, yup?”

”I think my stomach has a new outlet.” He shifted, and white fire poured from the open bullet wounds instead of blood. “Nothing a couple hours basking in the Core won’t fix.”

Core… Speaking of, I checked my internal situation. The blazing white flame in my core was still sparking with life. My Psy levels were down to about seventy percent. More than enough unless something absolutely catastrophic happened, but what were the chances of that?

We moved around to the staircase Iron-Four mentioned. A few shock troopers met us and helped keep watch as we moved up to the nest that Iron-Four had made for themselves. It was an old arcade, with machines standing idle all around in chaotic rows and columns.

At a glance, there were only eight of them left. Seven were still able-bodied, but the last was in a splint and missing a leg. I counted the amount of lightning bolts gathered around his Stormfall patch. A lieutenant, then. Leader of one of the many platoons planet-side. He’d definitely seen better days.

A man stepped in front of the unconscious lieutenant with his rifle lowered, but still ready. His armor was marked with several scratches and a deep grove ran across his shoulder guard. His visor flicked across the group, and then settled on Black Dog. His finger twitched and tensed around the finger, though he managed to restrain himself.

“You lot have a Psion with you?” His voice came off with the usual mixture of guarded and untrusting. Psions like me were a volatile wildcard on the best of days. 

“That’d be me.” I stepped forward and let my rifle drop into my sling fully as a sign of solidarity. “Squire Joy, under Warden Windrunner.”

”Sergeant Locke.” He jerked his head back toward the downed officer. “Lieutenant Isley, Ingot Plattoon.”

“Pike-Two, Arma Platoon.” Now that I knew the name of the squad, it wasn’t hard to figure out where they belonged. “You look like you’ve seen better days.” 

“You don’t know half of it.” He also dropped his rifle, and a subtle tension throughout both squads loosened. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

The squads mixed together as well as they could. There was a faint divisor line still between the two if I knew where to look for it, but that could only be expected. Most of Pike-Two joined the perimeter security, and Morose got to treating the injured.

”Still got your medic, I see.” Sergeant Locke nodded to his squad. “Mind if she takes a look over my guys?”

“Morose.” I called out to the medic. “After—“

”I heard.” Morose cut me without even looking up. “In a minute.”

I nodded and shifted my attention to other matters. “You find Saber-Three?”

”Parts of them.” Locke pointed up toward another layer. “They held their ground as long as they could. We fell back down here after being attacked by the same thing that got them.”

I glanced around the war torn squad. ”You kill it?”

“No. Blasted it to kingdom come, but the bastard was cloaked and fast. Took out two in the first firefight.” Locked shrugged. “Whatever it was, it stopped attacking once we dropped back down here.”

I didn’t like that. Cloaked and fast was never a good combination. Really, no combination was a good one when it came to the enemy. The creature was definitely what he meant when he called we weren’t alone. ”Radios?”

“He and our medic were both caught. Whatever it was, it seemed to have learned after Saber-Three.” He laughed dryly. It wasn’t so much humor as much as just something to fill the silence. “Targeted them first.”

”Fuck.” A smart enemy was the scariest thing to run across. Especially one that knew to eliminate calls for backup first.

“Yeah…” The man’s visor inclined toward me. “What’s your call?”

I closed my eyes and tried to think up a viable plan. Fleff was down, but once he got up, he’d be able to come up with a better one. If he got back up. Until then, mine didn’t need to be anything too complicated.

“Um—we’ll stay bunkered here for a while until our radioman is up. Once he is, he’ll be able to find the interference.” I hoped. I really, really hoped Fleff’d be able to get all of that solved without an issue.

Sergeant Lock nodded slowly. “We’ll stay linked up. Strength in numbers. The interference was our target too.”

”Good. Then we’ll rest until then.” I patted Black Dog on the head lightly and then recalled him. A surge of white fire filled the space around him and he disappeared. A rush of warmth filled me, and the magma-line cracked stone appeared in my Core once more.  

”That—“Locke’s hand dropped to his gun, though he pulled back and shifted his focus away. His uneasy look pulled back behind a thin veil of professionalism. “I’ll go get a watch sorted out.”

I watched him go for a moment and then turned to my own responsibilities I had to take care of before I could take a nap. I moved around, gave orders, and tried to shore up morale. It was a long and tiring process, especially since I didn’t know any of these people.

By the time it was my turn to rest, I was more than ready to collapse. I moved to a secluded corner and laid my head against a busted arcade cabinet. It was still running, somehow. Pixelated fish looped over and over in a ten-second animation of scoring points. At least someone was winning.