The Call of the Hollow Men

The law only matters when its enforcers are watching. In the deep dark of space, humanity reverts back to a more brutal, tribe-centered style of conflict resolution. And this can be violent, yes, but it is also honest.

• Mauldove Fairtrade Unlimited on why one of their military escort vessels failed to use appropriate force when dealing with pirates. This statement was retracted eight minutes after publication.

Gerald slammed his first on the table, and his three lieutenants flinched back. He was too pissed to be satisfied, though any smile he gave would have just terrified them further. The scar ensured that much. “Send another wave of drones!”

“We’re running out,” Heli reported. His tone was nearly frantic as he swiped at the dataslad. “And they’re shooting them down as quickly as we can send them. I don’t know who the fuck they paid to go after us, but they don’t seem to care about losses or morale. The mortar rounds are nearly gone too.”

The room shook, and Gerald looked up. If the shield failed, it was over. Done. But the shaking stopped, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “Ferdenant, access Federation databases and get me some kind of idea on who I’m fighting.”

“Database accessed. No records found.” Ferdenant didn’t seem to realize how close it was to getting scrapped. Not that the fucking AI cared, not after what Gerald had to do to make it cooperate. “Would you like me to access restricted military records?”

“Yes!”

“Access denied. Please contact Colonel Witherbone to request temporary access to restricted files.”

Gerald shot the server core, which only barely made him feel better. Ferdenant would be fine. “Selka, go make sure our perimeter defenses are holding. And wake up that fucking piece of shit War Platform we have in storage.”

“We can’t control it properly,” Selka protested. Gerald almost shot her too, and she paled. “Right. Yes captain!”

By Toncon’s balls, it was impossible to get proper fucking help in this fucking universe. The raid had been glorious, the rewards almost unimaginable, but now he was wondering if it had been worth it. Especially since the Federation seemed to have sent a military regiment after them, clearly disguised as a mercenary company.

He didn’t know any ships with shields that strong, even if they kept to the legal limit of gun batteries. Even his surface-to-space platforms, his trump card, couldn't bring the vessel down. Two more weeks. Two more weeks and they’d have acquired enough credits to retire. But of course not. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

“They’re at the shield!” someone called. “They have war droids! And fighter planes!”

Definitely a Federation kill team. Gerald flexed his arms, feeling the so-recently acquired strength flowing through his limbs. There had been but a pittance of biomods in their grand theft, and they had no doctor to steal more from their prey, but there had been one full kit. Just the one.

The operation had nearly killed him, but Gerald hadn’t cared. He was a god compared to these wretches, and even Federation soldiers would fold in half under his blows. So he pulled his moleblade, double-checked his phase-shield, and barked at his people to get ready.

He was Gerald von Clairvaux, and he would show them that his family name still mattered.

Mat ducked left, and then finally, finally, they were past the shield. The pre-fab buildings rose not a dozen feet away, but this place clearly hadn’t been built with defense in mind. A ring of defenders opened fire, but it was scattered and panicked.

One of Nova’s war droids shielded him from a burst of more well-aimed energy blasts, and then Mat was near their barricade. Anchored slabs of what seemed to be plastic, hip high and clearly just installed. Sloppy. He slipped between the gaps, and blocked one blow while sliding past another.

Eight pirates close by, none particularly well armed. He only had a split-second of warning as his sword made contact, because the man he was fighting didn’t have a moleblade of his own. Mat carved through the normal metal and then through the pirate, nearly stunned into inaction.

Who the fuck fought without a moleblade?

Then someone else caught his eyes. A man, bigger and unafraid. His face was red, and from between two pre-fab buildings, their eyes locked. The stranger’s arms bulged with unnatural muscle, and he had a small group of more well-armed pirates with him. They wore military armor to the last, the Federation’s logo emblazoned on the chest.

The man sprinted towards him, and Mat half saw Tobi, Jason and Reg finally join him at the barricade. Bea was hanging back, and he didn’t have time to see why. The stranger picked up speed, and by some strange law of combat, a ring opened up for them to fight.

Thirty feet. Twenty, then ten. And when the well-kitted, massive man was not five feet away, Bea slipped around Mat’s body, jabbed her moleblade upwards, and stepped to the side. The stranger collapsed, a hole going through his throat and out of the top of his skull. Mat stared at the dead man’s face, and how Bea had punctured him at the start of an enormous scar. A second later she was butchering her way through the man’s squad.

Mat ducked, twisting aside to avoid a wide sweep, and he pushed down his incredulity. The stranger must have been freshly kitted to be so unused to his own abilities. It didn’t matter. He kicked out, catching a woman in the knee. Her leg shattered, and he took the head while her face contorted in pain. She’d screamed, no doubt.

Behind him, a tide of some eighty bladeslaves crossed the distance, and swallowed the fortification whole. Mat pushed further inwards and into an alleyway, blocking another blow, this time from an actual moleblade, and punched out. Having seen what just happened to the woman, the man flinched back, and Mat flicked his blade free. It pierced the skull before the man could recover.

Amateurs.

He could feel Nova absorbing the energy, but the AI was busy. Controlling the droids, coordinating between the ship and the army, trying to negate the jammer, and now collecting soul energy. Soon—

Mat flinched back as a small, round object landed at his feet, trying to kick at the grenade and coming up short. It detonated, and the now-familiar world of sound and light washed over him. The rush of force picked him up, slamming him against the wall of the pre-fab building. His phase-shield spluttered and failed, though some part of his mind noted that it wasn’t broken.

His consciousness stuttered, and when he came to, four shapes surrounded him. He threw himself aside, activating his speed mod at the last second. Three moleblades he managed to dodge, but the fourth sliced through armor and skin. He swiped his own blade in a wide arc, and the pirates jumped back.

Three more joined not a second later, spilling out of the nearby door, and opened fire without hesitation. His perception slowed, but it had been enough to get his bearings.

Mat kicked off, his foot nearly going through the wall, and energy blasts tore into his armor from all angles. But only for a second, and then he slammed into one of the pirates. The woman failed to keep her balance, and they went down in a tangle of limbs. Mat only managed to wrap one hand around her throat, but her neck broke just as easily.

He rolled away, and a hail of gunfire poured into the alleyway from the other direction. Mat felt them blip into, then out of his bubble of omniscience, and then bolts broke against the pirates’ shields. The group panicked, then ran. A moment later, Jason stepped up next to him.

“Stop running ahead, Matmat,” the man scolded. “This isn’t a duel. You four, clear this fucking alleyway!”

The squad that had just saved him rushed forward, streaming past them and into the base. Mat glanced backwards, and saw nothing but a tide of bodies. There had been nearly three times their own number of pirates manning the barricade. He only spotted two bladeslave corpses, though he knew there would be more.

With a sharp sting, his medibots finished knitting his stomach back together. At least the armor had saved him from his guts spilling out. Mat flicked his radio to active, giving a hard stomp for good measure. The vibration earned him the surprised look of three dozen people.

“We’re pushing forward,” he called. With one hand, he pointed deeper in with his blade. More pirates would be waiting, no doubt. “Paint this fucking asteroid red with their blood!”

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The group bellowed in approval, a sound that cut off as the radio adjusted. Not a moment later, Nova spoke, tone gleeful. “Got it!”

“Fucking finally,” Stef’s voice barked over the radio. “All group leaders, report your location and status.”

Mat snorted. He supposed that meant him, then. “I have a hundred fighters, and we’ve taken the south barricade. Pushing deeper inside now.”

“Good,” she replied. “Regroup at the following coordinates. Sending now.”

Four of Nova’s war droids joined him, and Jason shrugged. So Mat turned, and behind him, a rush of bladeslaves followed him deeper into the base. Past barracks and mess halls and what appeared to be office space. Any pirates they came across were alone or in small groups, and none tried to fight. Few got away.

It was an easy, smooth path to the center, where a larger square opened up. Above them loomed the enemy ship, massive and imposing, and the unorganized, overrun pirates seemed to be trying to flee into the thing.

A fool's errand if it hadn’t been for the blocky, grey, elephant-sized machine pouring an impossible amount of firepower onto any bladeslave that dared to clear the cover of the buildings. Six-legged, and with two main guns, he spotted a dozen smaller weapons before he had to duck away.

Fuck that.

Mat guided his group around, linking up with Stef’s main force a minute later. She looked at him, then at his bloodied and wounded group, and offered a nod. “Herald. Yon is purging the rest of the base with his company, but we have the real problem. An Armored Support War Platform. Stolen, no doubt. It’s not behaving as it should be. Regardless, we don’t have the firepower to get through its shielding, let alone the armor behind it.”

Had Yon been promoted to captain? He honestly couldn't recall right this second. But even as she said it, the War Platform skittered to the side, apparently uncaring how it crushed a trio of pirates while doing so. An engineer, one that Mat could barely see, was desperately typing into a dataslad, standing just inside of the enemy ship.

Nova, could you take control?

“If you give me physical access, yes.” The AI paused. “Mat, no. That’s a horrible idea.”

But I only have to bleed on it, right?

Nova sighed. It really was handy they could speak in private like this. “Sustained physical access. It might take a nanosecond, or it might take a full minute. Either way, you’d be stuck there, and that thing won’t like you being so close.”

“I’ll take care of the War Platform,” Mat said. Stef glanced at him, but didn’t protest. “Once it’s distracted, you need to take the ship. Maybe we could win another naval battle, or maybe not, but I don’t want to take the risk.”

Stef offered a curt nod. “Yon is looking for their shield generator, but so far, nothing. Even if it gets disabled, we’re too close for the Challenger to be of much use. And frankly, I don’t trust our pilots to hit it with their fighters.”

Mat hummed in agreement, looking up. The War Platform was still acting like a nervous drunk, but even as he watched, a bladeslave peeked too far out of cover. One of the smaller guns twitched, lightning quick, and shot her. Not a kill shot, he judged. Yet another soldier peered over the edge of one of the taller buildings, and was ignored.

An unusually strong ship AI, but one that didn’t counter attack. Drones by the thousands, but thrown at them like a child throwing sand. High-powered snipers wasted for a single kill. They had stolen this stuff, and didn’t know how to use it. No, more than that. It didn’t want to be used. Not by pirates and thieves.

He picked up a rock, stepped out of cover, and threw it at the War Platform. The stone snapped towards the machine at ludicrous speed, but before it could hit, one of the guns opened fire. The rock half melted, then fell to the floor, momentum gone. Mat picked up another.

This one he threw up, hopefully landing on the droid itself. Not even close, he knew that the second he let go. All the same, he tracked the thing. Up and up it went, then down again. Down, and down, finally landing maybe a hundred feet to the right of his target.

The War Platform opened fire, but only once it had gotten low enough. Maybe as low as the pre-fab buildings. Mat tilted his head. Malfunctioning or intentionally limiting itself. By the way the thing was moving, he’d go with the former. “Get ready. Nova, I’ll need a droid to help launch me.”

Nova grumbled, but complied. This was technically stupid. Foolish and risky and more. They had the numbers. They had firepower. Once the shield was taken down, they could pull back, and bomb it to hell.

But how many more of his people would die before that happened? How close would the pirates be from getting away? This had to end, and it had to end now. And to be perfectly honest with himself, the idea was intoxicating.

Mat jumped to the roof, accomplished with but a single flex of his legs. God, he was strong now. Nova’s War Droid followed, displaying the same kind of acrobatic impossibility. A shot skittered off his phase-shield, and Mat dropped to his stomach.

Crawling to the edge took only a moment, and he glanced at the War Platform. Still erratic, but mostly standing still. He had his Speed perk for emergencies, and his medibots to keep him alive. He could do this. He would do this.

Nova, without another complaint, seized him by the back of his armor, and then he was violently thrown upwards. He could have jumped, maybe. This was better. More certain and accurate. So across the landing platform he sailed, and for a single moment, he thought he’d gambled wrong. Some asshole had the bright idea to shoot him, too. They missed.

Thank fuck my Mag Boots work, or I’ll be sailing off into space.

The War Platform jerked aside, and the guns twitched back and forth. Mat watched, unable to do anything, as he reached the peak of his arc. Then he fell down again, rapidly picking up speed. Down, down, until the ground rushed towards him so fast he barely had time to think. He’d miss the War Platform, but it was close. Close enough—

The machine skittered back to its original place, and Mat activated his speed mod a moment before he crashed into the machine. Reality slowed, and he reached out to catch himself on one of the main guns. Two of the smaller weapons turned towards him, ready to open fire. He nearly twirled around the barrel, but managed to keep his grip.

Oh. It can shoot itself.

Local Omniscience let him scramble to the side, and there, exactly where it told him, was an access panel. His fingers reached for it just as his perk ran out, and he got shot four times in half as many seconds.

His phase shield took the brunt of the damage, and then he ripped the access panel open, tearing metal. Blood rushed from uncut skin, spreading into the machine without him having to do much of anything.

Mat pressed himself against the armor, and the War Platform went berserk, rapidly shaking itself side to side. Only one of the guns could hit him now, but it was doing so with enthusiasm, and after another two shots, his phase-shield spluttered out. The next hit him in the shoulder, as did the one after that.

Nova!

“Hold on!” the AI barked. The War Platform continued to thrash, and Mat nearly lost his grip as the thing jumped upwards. Pirates were shooting at him too, now, but none had the kind of aim needed to hit him. Even if they did, the machine was shielded, and he was under said shields. “Aaaalmost.”

The War Platform continued to open fire, and his armor finally failed. The next shot punctured clean through his shoulder, and Mat stifled a scream as he lost control over his fingers. The other hand was still pressed against the console, so he hooked his leg around the main gun. The War Platform dashed aside, and then had the brilliant idea to tip itself over entirely.

Mat could feel the movement through Local Omniscience, and closed his eyes. Yeah. This had been a stupid fucking idea. He let go of the console, scrambling up. The platform tipped, pushing off with three of its legs. He wouldn't be quick enough, not with only one arm.

“Got it!” Nova cried. The War Platform froze, slowly falling back down to stand on all six legs. Mat froze himself, not sure what to do. The pirates were still shooting at him, and this was the best cover for two hundred feet. “Oh, I’ll take care of them.”

The War Platform turned towards the still open loading ramp, and the main guns sailed inches from his face. Then they, and all its smaller guns, opened fire, and a dozen pirates died in less than a second. Mat stared, and the machine moved, frightfully quick. It didn’t show an ounce of its previous jerkiness.

Up the ramp they went, and then they were inside the ship itself. Nova tore through the pirates like so much chaff. Phase-shields, biomods, it didn’t matter. A dozen guns, firing in different directions or grouping up to tear through shields. The big guns shot straight through people, then dug into the wall.

Mat settled himself low on the machine's back, and pulled his moleknife. A glance told him Stef was sending hundreds of bladeslaves towards the ship, their main obstacle gone. Good. The War Platform was too big to fit through the hallways.

The pirates surrendered. More surprisingly, Nova didn’t continue to slaughter them to the last. Everywhere he looked, scared, tired and overwhelmed men and women threw down their weapons, looking at him with wide eyes.

They thought he’d done this because they didn’t know about Nova. Mat didn’t even care, grunting in pain as the medibots healed his shoulder. He risked a glance, and he could see straight through his own flesh. And— and a piece of his lower ear was gone, which sat half an inch from his skull. Mat shuddered. He was going to ignore that until the medibots were done.

Half a minute later, Stef was marching inside the loading hangar, and she stopped next to Nova’s War Platform. Mat took that as the time to jump off, and he landed lightly next to the woman. Cat’s Grace, once again saving him from faceplanting into the floor. “I took the War Platform.”

“So you did,” Stef agreed. The woman looked on as her people began taking pirates into custody. “You’re crazy, irresponsible, and probably suicidal, but I think I see it now.”

“See what?”

Stef snorted, then turned away. Mat thought he should probably say something, but nothing came to mind. Then Jason was there, and the man had a grin going from ear to ear. “I see you’re an on-top kind of guy.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Mat replied, too tired to put much feeling into the words. “Make yourself useful and go check if Tobi, Bea and Reg are still alive.”

Jason saluted, the gesture somehow both crisp and sloppy at the same time. “Aye-aye, Herald.”

Afterword

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