The Shape of Surrender

The battle was ending, the last bits of resistance burning low. With the barracks neutralized and the remaining guard towers in pieces, only small pockets of violence remained — mostly holdouts in the main building of the complex. Sporadic gunfire came from the large blocky building, as mercenaries holed up inside took potshots from the upper story windows.

Tor’laen, his squad following closely behind, jogged back toward the shuttles, looking to link up with Mikka again. He found the Lieutenant Commander near the lead shuttle, coordinating the remaining cleanup of the PMC forces.

“Tor’laen,” she called as they drew near. “Nice work man. Good shit.”

“Just doing my duty.”

“If your duty includes clearing out an entire fucking barracks, then keep it up.” Mikka gave him an affectionate punch on the thigh.

“What now, LT?” Oril asked from his side.

“We finish securing the compound, then move to breach the big fucker,” she replied, gesturing to the main building of the complex. “It shouldn’t be long now, we just need to…” her voice trailed off, and Tor’laen spun to see what she was looking at.

A sizable chunk of the remaining mercenary forces, nearly three full squads of the soldiers, had exited the main building and were making a mad dash across the open yard. The women were moving at full sprint, firing wildly, trying to keep the Armswomen under cover.

It wasn’t working.

Even as the Ydani watched, five of the mercenaries fell, picked off by the Citadel’s forces. However, it did nothing to slow their momentum, seemingly having the opposite effect, the combatants pushing themselves even harder.

“What in the Maker’s name are those idiots doing?” Mikka wondered aloud.

Even as she did so, Saia raised her rifle, taking a few shots at the dashing mercenaries, scoring a hit on one of their legs. The enemy soldier tumbled down into a heap, where she lay still, apparently deciding not to continue resisting, her hands on the top of her helmet.

The destination of the mercenaries was now clear — they were making for a smaller, freestanding building on the eastern side of the compound, one that had been effectively ignored up to that point. A small, square structure, with no windows or obvious tactical value. Some kind of storage unit, perhaps. Tor’laen watched as a few more of the mercenaries went down, leaving only a handful still moving. Of the original fifteen or so women who had started across the open yard, only four made it into the small building, disappearing inside.

“Well, they got to their little building, for all the good it’s going to do them,” Mikka muttered, crossing her arms.

“That large door on the front resembles something my people use to house vehicles,” Tor’laen offered, his gaze fixed on the entrance.

“The garage door? Yeah, could be a motorpool, I guess.” The Lieutenant Commander shrugged. “Not gonna help them. It ain’t big enough for a tank, and we’ll just fill anything smaller than that with tungsten and shrapnel.” She patted the barrel of her assault rifle, gesturing to the underslung grenade launcher beneath it.

A long, tense moment passed, the Citadel forces creeping closer to the small building, keeping sights trained on it.

“LT?” The voice came over the operations channel, Tor’laen recognizing the speaker as one of the shuttle pilots. “We finally got the frequency the enemy is using, and cracked their encryption.” The woman paused. “I think you’re gonna want to hear this.”

Immediately, Mikka touched the side of her helmet, tapping into the shuttle’s communications. Tor’laen did the same.

“—just fucking do it!” The voices coming over the channel were frantic.

“They said to only activate under direct orders!”

“You want to end up in front of a damn tribunal and then executed? We have no fucking choice!”

“Sarge, we don’t even know what—”

“Ladies, you have about ten seconds to come out of there unarmed with your hands visible,” Mikka cut in, broadcasting directly to their channel. “That’s the only way you’re not going to immediately end up in the fucking ground. Ten.”

There was silence for a breath, then the panicked voice cut back in.

“Do it! Fucking do it now!”

The channel went silent.

“Those fucking morons,” Mikka muttered, starting to move toward the small building. Before she had made it a dozen paces, the garage door started to rise. It opened fully, and two…things stepped out.

Tor’laen could only stare for a heartbeat. They were clearly mechanized, streamlined armor plating above skeletonized mechanical limbs, however their shape felt wrong to him. The things were quadrupedal, with digitigrade legs, each ending in metallic clawed stabilizers. The front of the mechanical creatures terminated in an oblong “head”, bristling with cameras and sensors. They were sizable, their shoulders easily coming up to Tor’laen’s chest.

The most alarming part was the deadly-looking guns mounted on their backs. Connected via a flexible gimbal, they were a pair of large-caliber weapons, belt-fed, with the ammo coming from large boxes stored beneath the “belly” of the machines. Smaller weapons were mounted on each of the machine’s shoulders as well.

“What the fuck are—” Mikka started.

The two robots’ heads snapped up, their camera arrays buzzing with an angry red light, and their guns immediately started firing.

Two Armswomen went down instantly, the large caliber weapons punching straight through their plating. Across the courtyard, the Citadel forces scrambled to find cover.

“MOVE!” Tor’laen roared, his squad and Mikka sprinting back towards the shuttles. They had just made it to cover when one of the robotic predators had turned its attention their way. Saia had been just a heartbeat slower than the rest and the mech’s slug caught her as she dove for cover, blasting her left arm off at the elbow, turning the woman’s hand and forearm into a shower of gore.

On the other side of the compound, another Armswoman was caught as she scrambled for cover, a slug disintegrating her leg below the knee. Before the drone could finish its work, two of the woman’s squadmates grabbed her and hauled her behind cover, a second round blasting apart the dirt where she had been a moment before.

“Tor’laen…my arm. I…I lost my arm. I gotta go and find it, Tor’laen,” Saia muttered staring down at where her left hand used to be, eyes wide through her visor. She started to stand, and the Ydani pulled her back down, keeping her behind the shuttle. His hand went to his rig, and he groped around for a moment before pulling out a tourniquet.

“Hold her still!” he snarled, and Tovik grabbed the injured woman, pushing her down. Immediately, he set the strap around Saia’s bicep, cutting off the flow of blood. Her eyes were wide, unmoving.

“Damnit!” he swore. “She’s going into shock.”

“Hit her with this, squad leader.” Oril handed him an injector, and he jabbed it into the injured woman’s neck without hesitation.

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Saia gave a sharp gasp as the stim hit her, her eyes focusing once more.

“Fuck!” she breathed. “By the Maker, what the fuck?!” She glanced down at her missing forearm, as if to confirm it had really been taken.

“Get her in the shuttle!” Tor’laen ordered, before returning his attention to the enemy.

“LIGHT THOSE FUCKERS UP!” Mikka yelled over the comms from her place next to them.

The compound came alive with return fire, the majority of the Armswomen now safely behind cover. Tor’laen joined in, firing over the top of the shuttle, as his squad mates leaned out from the sides.

His jaw tightened. The Citadel troops’ bullets were simply ricocheting off the armor of the two drones, barely even an inconvenience for the machines.

“We might as well be throwing the damn bullets at them,” Tovik growled.

“They’re hardened against small arms fire,” Tor’laen reported. “We’re not even scratching them!”

“Let’s see if they’re hardened against this!” Mikka snarled, leaning out and firing her underslung grenade launcher with a whump.

One of the shoulder mounted guns on the closest drone rotated, tracking the projectile, and simply shot it out of midair, the explosive detonating harmlessly.

“You’re fucking joking,” Mikka said grimly, her eyes wide. “Those fuckers have point defense.”

Across the compound, the other Armswomen were finding the same level of success, the armor plating and active defenses rendering their weapons useless. Tor’laen watched as an Armswoman popped out of cover to fire, only to take a slug straight through her chest, tumbling back down behind a wall.

The nearest drone seemed to have found Mikka’s efforts offensive, pausing, the array of cameras and sensors on its head twisting to focus on the shuttles. After what seemed almost like a moment of consideration, the thing started prowling toward the squad’s cover. Several shots from the drone bounced off the hull of the ship, forcing Tor’laen and his squad to keep their heads down.

“How the fuck do we stop this thing?” Oril’s voice was full of barely-restrained panic. Tovik pulled a grenade from her rig, priming it and throwing it over the shuttle, only to get the same result as Mikka did. The woman growled angrily.

The thing was nearly upon them now, the whirr of its servos audible even over the sounds of battle.

“Mikka!” Tor’laen said urgently, a feeling of desperation clawing at him. “I need a distraction! Even a second is fine.”

“Sure, you got it man.”

The Lieutenant Commander nodded as the Ydani drew his sidearm, and yanked a sizable pouch off of her rig. She paused, trying to feel for the timing. Just as the drone was rounding the corner, she hurled the pouch, causing it to land on the other side of the machine. The drone’s head snapped in that direction at the sudden motion.

It was the opening Tor’laen needed.

With both hands on his sidearm, he stepped from cover and blasted the drone’s “head”, firing three shots as quickly as he could, fighting the recoil of his weapon. The first two shots smashed into the camera array, the large-caliber slugs fired at nearly pointblank range blowing sizable chunks of the machinery out. The third shot took the thing’s “head” off completely. The machine swayed, acting almost confused, perhaps switching to some sort of backup optics. The Ydani didn’t give it the chance, moving even as the drone’s weapon systems turned toward him.

Almost within arms reach of the thing, he leveled his hand cannon and fired, emptying the magazine into the hole left by the drone’s missing head. The thing’s outsides were hardened against slugs, but not so much on the inside, the tungsten projectiles wreaking havoc on the drone’s interior. It took one last unstable step, then toppled over, its servos going still and silent.

“One down,” he said grimly, hitting the release and letting the empty magazine fall from his pistol.

“I’m done fucking around with this shit. The other one is far enough away from the shuttles and the buildings now,” Mikka growled, putting her fingers to her helmet’s side. “Wing leader, I’m gonna have a target painted for you. I want you to turn it to slag. Minimal collateral — we’ve got troops all over the compound. Watch your credentials scanner.”

“Understood, Commander.” The answer came back over the operations channel. “Receiving your targeting data. Preparing for my attack run.”

“We got a bird coming in hot!” Mikka ordered, peeking her weapon out from behind the shuttle and training it on the remaining drone. “Keep your heads down ladies, this is going to be real danger-fucking-close!”

A few breaths later and Tor’laen heard the roar of the incoming bomber’s engines. Just as Mikka was, he leaned slightly out of cover, weapon pointed at the drone, making sure he was adding to her targeting data. His visor painted a strip of the courtyard a vivid red. The kill zone.

The machine paused for a moment, its camera array tilting up toward the sky. Perhaps it could sense the approaching aircraft, but it didn’t matter. A heartbeat later and that angry buzz filled the air, the rotary cannon of the bomber causing the drone to vanish beneath a shower of dirt as the explosive rounds blasted the ground apart.

It was over in a breath, the craft screaming by overhead. Armswomen gave a ragged cheer from their places in cover around the compound. As the dust cleared, the result of the strike was obvious. The drone lay in scattered pieces, its armor and components chewed apart by the strafing run.

A measure of relief settled over the battlefield, Armswomen hurrying to render aid to their injured comrades.

“Come on, Tor’laen,” Mikka said, heaving herself to her feet. “We’re going to go find the fucks who turned those things on and string them up by their mindthreads.”

Silence reigned over the bridge of the Aegis.

“Autonomous weapons systems,” Nalyra said, her voice quiet, dangerous. “For your sake, High Lady Rastia, I very much hope you had nothing to do with this hidden military compound.”

She didn’t need to say more. Nearly all of the color had drained from Rastia’s face, and even Sivena seemed perturbed. Creating or deploying autonomous weapons was a grave crime against the Monarchy, and anyone making use of them was looking at almost certain execution.

The Crown Daughter fell silent once more, watching the feeds show Tor’laen and Mikka dragging several Zakkili mercenaries out of the small garage, treating them none too gently. Nalyra would have handled them even more roughly, had she been there herself. Those foolish women had activated forbidden technology and gotten some of her Armswomen killed, all in a desperate attempt to save their worthless skins.

Even with the obvious threat passed, Nalyra could still feel her pulse racing. Thankfully, the other two women had been so engrossed in the camera feeds during the firefight that they hadn’t noticed the Crown Daughter’s distress. Her heart had been in her throat the entire time — not only from watching her loyal soldiers perish, but from her fear for Tor’laen. This had felt like the first time her consort had been in actual danger, faced with something even the veteran Ydani couldn’t simply power through.

Yes, she would be looking into the origin of this technology very thoroughly.

For now, she let her gaze return to the feeds, watching her troops clean up the aftermath of the battle.

“What the actual fuck were these things?” Mikka scowled down at the “corpse” of the drone Tor’laen had beheaded.

“You do not know?” he asked, surprised.

“I don’t know how you guys handle this kind of shit in your society, but for the Monarchy, autonomous weapons are a big fucking no-no.” She sighed. “Weapons aren’t supposed to think for themselves.”

“Thankfully, my people won our war before we could develop autonomous weapons of this sort.” Tor’laen nudged it with his boot. “Since then, there has been no further research into it to my knowledge.”

“Well, now that you guys are in the Monarchy, it sure as shit is going to stay that way,” Mikka chuckled grimly. “But this…this is bad news.” She crouched down to take a closer look at the machine. “This was no simple drone, or makeshift automatic gun emplacement. I’ve never seen anything even close to this level of lethal effectiveness. If we didn’t have air support or your big fuck-off hand cannon, these things could have slaughtered their way through an entire damn battalion of Armswomen, and we wouldn’t have been able to do shit about it.”

“Do you think Meridian Operations is responsible for this?” Tor’laen asked.

“They had them and turned them on, that’s bad enough.” Mikka shook her head. “But no, I don’t think they designed or created them. You would need some serious R&D to get something like this working. Either way, once the High Fortress hears about this, I wouldn’t take any bets about Meridian’s continued existence.”

“Mikka, status report,” Vessa’s voice came through the command channel, relayed through the Q-comm network.

“Compound exterior secured, Admiral, but it’s a shitshow,” the Lieutenant Commander sighed. “Four of ours dead, Saia got her damn arm blown off, Neela lost half a leg, and Tia got a fucking hole punched through her stomach. Medics say she’ll pull through, but the sooner she gets to the infirmary, the better.”

“And the main complex?”

“My girls are setting up to breach as we speak, Vessa,” Mikka replied. “Tor’laen and I will be personally leading the teams that go in.”

“Understood. Be wary of any traps, and keep an eye out for hostages,” Vessa said, her voice grim. “I’d much prefer it if we could find these women alive.”

“You got it. Let the boss lady know that I’ll do everything I can to keep her consort safe.” Mikka grinned up at the Ydani.

“Acknowledged. Aegis out.”

“You heard the lady, Tor’laen.” Mikka stood and stretched, her spine creaking slightly. “Time to go kick in some more doors.”