The House of the Reaper has opened its arms to welcome:
Novices Baduf, Majid Harms, Ed Turlouw, aaron harvey, Adir Azran, and Joner.
Operative Sharinel.
Their contributions and dedication to our cause will be honored through the Net and through the Stars.
---
The following five weeks were unlike the previous days, full of relentless, almost fever-like, uninterrupted industrial progress driven solely by the goal of exposing the Strathari vault and accessing the continental maglev network. And though that was the primary goal, the city also saw itself transforming even further into a mechanized fortress for mankind.
The catalyst for this explosive growth originated from within Mark's laboratory. With his successful, hard-fought breakthrough in grasping a new level of harmonic resonance, he had managed to forge perfectly stabilized Helium-3. Marcos had recorded this new version of Helium-3 as Helium-3M in honor of Mark, and because of this achievement, the colony's current power constraints would soon vanish.
Mark and Aurelia worked tirelessly alongside Marcos's drone swarm, personally spearheading the assembly of three new 25-meter-radius mobile Nanoprinters, bringing their fabrication numbers to four 25-meter mobile printers, fifteen 8x8-meter mobile printers, and the original three 3x3-meter units.
Once the new printer network was successfully established and synced, the division of physical labor became much simpler. Engineering had already commandeered the fleet of fifteen 8x8-meter mobile printers, which helped them lay miles of maglev track and extend the colony's logistical supply lines all the way around to the side of the mountain.
On the other hand, the 25-meter mobile printers built larger, industrial-scale buildings. So, once they were ready, Marcos simply fed the scaled-up blueprints of the Shepherd's fusion reactor directly into their mainframes. The machines rolled themselves into position at the designated construction site and began their work.
The nanoprinters rapidly extruded and constructed a dedicated fusion power plant from the ground up. The power plant was built in a way that would allow an easy replacement of the reactor, for whenever Mark ended up creating a new version that would operate with the same level of perfection Mark had been able to achieve with the super-charged Helium-3 without destabilizing.
But for now, this heavily fortified, standalone power plant flooded the city's expanding electrical grid with virtually limitless clean energy. The wind turbines on the high ridges were officially relegated to secondary backup status, standing more like monuments of the colony's earlier struggles.
Now that they had secured a source of boundless electricity through the use of a reactor that was already highly efficient as it was, and even more so with the new Helium-3M, Marcos had decided to use the continuous influx of the ores pouring in from the strip mine that, due to the need to expand the maglev track, was now under the opperation of an expanded workforce that contained a mixture of civillians and Peacekeepers, to initiate a massive defensive overhaul of the entire perimeter.
The automated network of nanoprinters effortlessly churned out thick support beams to reinforce the perimeter walls against the possible impacts of stampeding native beasts. Along the parapets, the number of brand-new laser turrets increased even more. Now that they drew their immense firing power directly from the new fusion plant, they could fire longer or with more power, if necessary.
The laser turrets were also plated around every single external facility, securely locking down the industrial sectors, water treatment plants, and the new power plant itself. But that wasn't enough for Marcos, who had been given too much freedom and had them planted ever so often along the exposed maglev lines. Because they were easy to place, it required nothing more than a single loader mech and excavator to get those laser turrets up.
Marcos wasn't the only one in a frenzy, since Mark had also decided that adding alternative sources of firepower was the right call. He had Marcos draft up twin-linked 35mm autocannons, which the printers spat out by the dozens. They featured dual-feed mechanisms and thick water-cooling jackets to prevent barrel warping, and fired proximity-fused explosive rounds designed to shower soft targets in jagged shrapnel.
Mark had also begun learning some of the information Anahrin had left on shielding technology, along with the information the System provided him on it. Mark's growing understanding of shielding technology allowed the restrictions on Marcos' systems that prevented him from working with that technology to be lifted, though only partially.
Mark and Kenjiro had to focus on the slow testing phase of systematically bombarding the printed prototypes to determine which ceramic blends would work best without causing catastrophic failure in the shielding systems. Mark had essentially been given the keys to the kingdom while being locked inside a room.
But away from Mark and the city, completely hidden from the daily view of the colony on the northern ridge, where the excavators and loader mechs. The crews worked tirelessly for five straight weeks, operating the machinery in rotating shifts under the watchful guard of the mercenaries and Peacekeepers. They chewed through millions of tons of dirt, uprooted petrified trees, and crushed rocks if need be.
They dumped the ever-increasing volume of debris into a nearby valley to slowly expose the mountain face.
Finally, the towering, dark metallic gates of the ancient entrance to the Strathari facility stood completely exposed to the open air.
On the humid evening before the officially scheduled breaching operation, a palpable, vibrating electricity buzzed through the colony as people understood what the impending sunrise meant. They stood on the precipice of opening a vault that possessed the power to entirely change the trajectory of humanity forever.
However, the city-wide celebration in the central plaza that night had not been ordered by Mark to commemorate the excavation. That morning, Doctor Corven had officially confirmed blood work in the medbay, confirming that Sarah, the former ice miner, was pregnant.
This marked the first human pregnancy on the surface of Rubrion Prime. In the midst of alien jungles, ancient towering killing machines, and the isolated expanse of being in a completely unexplored part of the galaxy, human life had found a way to take root.
Recognizing the weight of this milestone, Mark had immediately ordered the festival to announce the news to the colony.
The atmosphere that night proved intoxicating in a chaotic, yet beautiful blend of relief and electric anticipation. Bright floodlights bathed the streets, projecting a display of their limitless new power as "Walking On A Dream" by Empire Of The Sun played. It was a song Mark had been glad to have gotten his hands on. He had listened to it many times in his previous life on Earth, and seeing that it was part of the music Marcos had downloaded brought a bitter, yet hopeful smile to his face. Aside from that, there were other songs from what Mark considered to have been Earth's golden era thumping loudly from the PA speakers mounted throughout the city.
The humid air hung thick with the mouth-watering scent of genetically modified crops. Dense, starchy tubers and leafy greens roasted over open, yet safely contained fires. The colony's cooks seasoned the food with synthesized spices that made the entire plaza smell like a festival. Laughter echoed off the S-Alloy walls, and the whole ordeal was the complete opposite of their first blood-soaked weeks surviving on Rubrion Prime.
Mark stood quietly on a slight incline near the edge of the packed plaza, a condensation-slicked glass of synthesized beer in his hand, watching his people thrive and celebrate the creation of life. Lyra darted happily through the dancing crowd nearby, playfully chasing the growing Snowball, who eagerly hunted for dropped scraps of roasted meat, his tail wagging as Lyra's bright giggles harmonized with the thumping bass of the music. Atlas watched from a safe distance, resting near the pen with a passive Ivory and a handful of other wolves that had slowly become more accepting of their new roommates. The patriarch ignored the loud music and kept a careful watch over the little girl and his pup.
Mark took a slow and satisfying sip of his drink as a familiar duo broke away from the dense edge of the dancing crowd and slowly approached his position. It was Mike and Sarah.
Mike had been Sarah's foreman during the initial mining phase, and they'd actually been the ones to discover the Strathary facility. They had already spent 2 months getting to know each other, but the whole ordeal with the mechs gave them a whole new outlook on life, and things just snowballed from there.
He was a burly man who had spent half his life cracking asteroids in the Belt, and as he approached Mark, he grinned from ear to ear. His weathered face lacked its usual hardened scowl, and he wrapped one of his heavily tattooed arms in a protective manner around Sarah's waist.
"Sir," Mike greeted warmly, coming to a halt and offering a respectful nod. His broad chest puffed out with a unique pride Mark had never previously seen in the hardened spacer, even if their interactions had been limited.
"Mike. Sarah," Mark smiled genuinely, lowering his drink and returning the nod. "How are the guests of honor holding up? Hell of a job these past few weeks at the site, Sarah. The whole colony owes you a drink tonight."
"I think I'll just take his portion," Sarah laughed softly, leaning her weight comfortably into Mike's side. "After all, I am strictly on water duty for the foreseeable future."
"We just wanted to say thanks, Sir," Mike said softly, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes briefly shining with unshed tears. "We didn't expect you to throw a massive festival and make a public announcement just for us."
"Are you kidding me?" Mark grinned, reaching out to firmly clasp Mike's hand, pulling the man into a brief, hard embrace before gently, warmly squeezing Sarah's shoulder. "That is the best damn news anyone has heard since we arrived on this planet. The people needed to know since it gives tomorrow a whole new meaning for all of us. Now there's an even bigger incentive to get into that facility since it'll be part of securing a safe future for your kid."
"And we will," Mike promised, his voice ringing with unshakable certainty.
They talked for a bit more before the happy couple turned and walked back into the celebrating crowd, showered with congratulations from passing colonists. Mark looked up past the perimeter walls at the three red dwarf suns that hung low on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of violet and deep gold. As his eyes panned to the laser and 35mm turrets actively tracking the sky and tree line, he listened intently to the laughter of his daughter and the other kids who had joined her, echoing joyfully over the music.
"Tomorrow morning will be quite the day," Mark whispered to himself as a soft breeze ruffled his mixed white and black hair. "I should probably trim my beard and get a haircut..."
---
The following morning buzzed with activity and nervous energy. For five weeks, a portion of the population had labored under the oppressive heat and the possible threat of the jungle. Not to mention, it was quite the exhausting job to move tons of earth to bore a kilometer-long tunnel straight into the mountainside.
Mark stood in the quiet, peaceful courtyard of his home, looking over Lystren's grave as the rising sun struck her tombstone at just the right angle to create a cascading effect of a rainbow over the growing grass. He stood dressed comfortably in his standard cargo pants and a simple, dark grey t-shirt. After a while, he woke Lyra up and had breakfast with her before dropping her off with Sister Elara.
He knelt down onto the dirt to look his daughter in the eye. Lyra had decided to leave Mr. Bear home for today and was currently clutching her alien plushie tightly to her chest, her small face framed by the soft morning light. Snowball sat lazily at her feet, basking in the attention as she occasionally scratched behind his ears, the pup fully content with his pampered city life. Atlas, as usual, was with his partner, who had yet to finish recovering since yet another surgery had to be done on her for better integration with the neural hardware that had allowed her to walk again.
"You be good for Elara today, okay, Bug?" Mark said in a soft voice. He reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I have to go to work on the other side of the mountain for a little while."
"Are you going to open the big door today, Papa?" Lyra asked, her bright blue eyes wide with innocent curiosity, though she was fully aware of the grand project happening out of sight.
"We're going to try," Mark said as he smiled warmly.
He stood up as Sister Elara stepped out onto the porch of the orphanage, casually wiping her hands on a cloth apron. Mark offered her an appreciative nod as he began to speak, "Keep her out of trouble today. If anything happens, Marcos has a way to contact me."
Elara rolled her eyes playfully, her demeanor relaxed as she stepped down into the ground and placed a gentle, familiar hand on Lyra's shoulder. "Relax, Mark. She's always a perfect angel for me. Honestly, it's you I'm worried about. Just focus on not waking up any more ancient killer machinery today, alright? We need you coming back in one piece."
Mark let out a genuine chuckle. "I'll do my best."
He offered a final, lingering smile to Lyra before turning away.
As he walked toward the perimeter, he reached up and touched the smooth, metallic pendant resting heavily against his chest beneath his shirt and mentally willed the item to activate. His attire shifted as he walked, and within seconds, his armor locked into place around his body with a series of vibrating mechanical thunks.
Finally, the nanites rushed upward, enveloping his head and snapping the sealed, polarized helmet into existence. The internal HUD immediately booted to life, washing Mark's vision in a crisp, tactical blue light. Biometrics, atmospheric pressure, targeting reticles, and the colony's defensive grid all populated in his peripheral vision in a matter of microseconds.
"Good morning, man," Marcos's voice echoed flawlessly inside the acoustic dampeners of the helmet. "All civilians have been completely evacuated from the tunnel after they finished welding the cables to the doors. The twelve loader mechs are in position and currently on standby. Everyone's just waiting for you to get there."
"I'm on my way," Mark replied.
He moved through the colony with thudding steps that gently shook the grated decking. The colonists, laborers, and engineers he passed instantly parted to give the heavily armored man space as he made his way to the Maglev station.
Ten minutes later, Mark stood on the primary industrial transport, riding deep into the end of a kilometer-long tunnel bored straight into the northern side of the mountain.
The subterranean corridor was wide enough to easily fit two maglev trains side-by-side, and to prevent the millions of tons of rock from collapsing and crushing them all, Aurelia had her crews meticulously line the entire length of the passage with curved S-Alloy ribs that spanned the walls every few meters, connecting to a dense lattice of carbon-nanotube netting and hydraulic shoring bolted directly into the ceiling. High-intensity lights mounted along the structural arches cast overlapping cones of white light down the tunnel to combat the darkness.
As the transport hissed to a halt at the staging area, Mark stepped out. The mercenaries, alongside some Peacekeepers, had already established a fortified perimeter. They were dug in behind spaced S-Alloy and barricades and manned autocannons that were aimed at the facility entrance, their rifles resting in their hands. They were taking zero chances this time around. If something decided to crawl out, it was going to receive a motherload of firepower.
But Mark ignored the mercenaries, and his gaze locked on the structure looming directly in front of him, fully exposed at the end of the massive borehole after hundreds of thousands of years of burial.
The doors were towering slabs of the same seamless, dark metallic-ceramic alloy that they had encountered by accident. However, these doors were a little different since they seemed to swallow the light of the halogen lamps rather than reflect it. The surface was covered in intricate interlocking alien glyphs.
Just standing before the doors made Mark feel like an insignificant insect staring up at the vault of a forgotten god.
Arrayed in a wide and highly disciplined tactical semicircle before the gates were Mark's seven Elites. They stood in their standard uniforms, but as Mark approached, they engaged their own armors, and their weapons were magnetized firmly to the hardpoints on their backs. They all looked up at the ancient architecture with a mixture of profound awe and disciplined focus.
Mark walked up to the line and swept his sight over them. He had asked for them to be here. Severus, Aurelia, Titus, Cassius, Valerius, Octavia, and Lucius were the absolute tip of the spear. If things went sideways inside this facility, these were the people Mark trusted to either help him out or pick up his mantle. Although he still didn't know if their lives were tied to his due to them being summons from the system.
"Alright, party people," Mark's voice echoed over the open squad comms. "We don't know what the internal conditions are like beyond those doors. We don't know what kind of passive hazards or biological contaminants might still be active once we break the seal. But we do know that this place is on life support. Only the genetic archive deep below has power. The rest of this facility is completely dead. I don't want anybody touching anything unless I give the order."
Mark pointed sharply at the rugged, heavily armored soldiers forming the right flank of his squad. "Titus, Cassius, Valerius, Lucius. You four are staying out here. I want you to coordinate directly with the Peacekeepers and Juan's mercenaries to lock down the mouth of this tunnel and secure the maglev staging area. Nobody, and I mean absolutely nobody, goes in or out of this passage without my direct, verbal authorization. If anything comes out of that door that isn't one of us, you put it down with extreme prejudice. Keep order, and keep the perimeter tight."
"Understood, Commander," Titus grunted over the comms. He slammed a fist over his chest plate in a sharp salute, the loud clack of metal ringing out in the chill air. Cassius, Valerius, and Lucius immediately echoed the gesture, turning in unison to march toward the barricades and lock down the perimeter with the mercenaries and the Peacekeepers.
Mark turned his helmet toward the remaining three. "Aurelia, Octavia, Severus. Check your environmental seals and have your weapons ready. You're coming inside with me."
Severus, standing just a fraction of an inch shorter than Mark, simply nodded. As the squad's primary tactician and combat medic, it made sense that he'd accompany Mark. Octavia was accompanying Mark for her firepower, since she, just like him, had a handheld railgun. As for Aurelia, well, she was their brilliant tactical engineer, so having her was a no-brainer.
"The mechs are synced to this single switch, Sir," Aurelia reported, her voice tight with anticipation.
She looked back over her shoulder, where twelve bipedal loader mechs stood arrayed in a wide, staggered formation behind them, repurposed for their pulling power. Thick, jet-black carbon-nanotube tow cables stretched from the mechanical winches mounted on the backs of the mechs, running taut all the way to the ugly welds that had been scarred into the center seam of the alien doors.
"Let's open it up," Mark said, taking a step back and planting his boots firmly into the packed dirt as Aurelia depressed the switch.
Instantly, the twelve loader mechs roared to life. Their heavy electric engines screamed, pitching into a high-pitched whine as they redlined and drew maximum power from their capacitor banks. The mechs leaned forward in unison, their internal hydraulics hissing as they drove their thick S-Alloy stabilizing spikes deep into the solid basalt bedrock to lock their legs in place.
The cables snapped taut, lifting off the dirt and vibrating. For five seconds, nothing happened. The mechs' electric engines strained against the alien vault, and the loader mechs' metal frames groaned in protest under the load. The bedrock beneath their spiked feet began to crack and splinter from the overwhelming pulling force on the cables.
Then, a deep and earth-shattering groan of unlubricated metal that had not moved in hundreds of thousands of years echoed through the tunnel. The ground beneath Mark's feet began to shake violently, vibrating his teeth inside his jaw and rattling his ribs against his chest plate.
Dust, petrified dirt, and ancient debris cascaded down the face of the massive doors like a dry waterfall, and with a metallic shriek that forced Mark to wince despite the acoustic dampeners in his helmet, the center seal of the Strathari gates finally broke.
The mechs were pushed to the brink of failure, but inch by excruciating inch, the doors began to slide apart on their dead mechanical tracks. The grinding and protesting screech of the unpowered interlocking gears echoed off the heavily braced tunnel walls, forcing the mercenaries and the Peacekeepers alike to cover their ears.
A sudden rush of stale air blasted out from the widening crack between the doors. It kicked up a blinding cloud of gray dust that completely swallowed everyone.
The mechs managed to pull the massive doors open exactly ten feet before the safety relays on their winches blew, locking the heavy machinery in place to prevent the motors from completely melting. The whine of the electric engines spun down into a low hum, leaving only the sound of settling dust.
Mark waved a hand in front of his visor as the dust slowly began to settle in the harsh glare of the halogen lights.
The ten-foot gap in the doors revealed a pitch-black abyss. There wasn't an ambient hum of any standby power or any emergency lighting. The darkness was so dense and photon-free that it felt like it was physically bleeding out into the tunnel, pushing back against the perimeter lights.
Severus immediately brought his rifle up to his shoulder, the weapon leveled squarely into the center of the void. Octavia tightened her grip on her heavy railgun, stepping up to Mark's right, her helmet sensors desperately trying to penetrate the gloom. Aurelia stood on his left, her armor's systems already pinging as they searched for atmospheric readings, radiation levels, and biological markers.
Mark summoned his railgun from his inventory space and, with a mental command, twin, high-lumen tactical lamps mounted flush against the sides of his helmet's visor snapped online. Beside him, Severus, Aurelia, and Octavia followed suit, their own visor-mounted lights flaring to life in unison.
Blinding pillars of pure white light sliced through the darkness, illuminating the grand concourse of the Strathari facility for the very first time in ages.
Their powerful intersecting beams swept across the darkness, cutting through the motes of ancient dust. The lights reflected off the dark surfaces of dormant alien machinery. They lit elevated metallic pathways that crisscrossed a cavernous abyss of industry, revealing the breathtaking, mind-bending scale of a dead automated foundry stretching far beyond the reach of their helmet lamps.
Octavia slowly lowered the barrel of her railgun. Inside her helmet, her jaw went completely slack. Her eyes widened in shock as she stared down the length of the intersecting lights. "Holy shit..."
---
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