Chapter 88: The Biomass Transit Experiment
Inside the Badlands bastion, Maine's crew was deep in their daily maintenance and training.
Rebecca was at the firing range, calibrating a new attachment. Pilar was at his workbench, tinkering with his gaudy chrome plating. Falco was checking their vehicle's sand-filters. Dorio was running strength-drills in the open lot. Kiwi was hunched over a terminal in the corner, monitoring the perimeter sensor-feeds. A seemingly relaxed, yet high-alert, atmosphere filled the bastion.
Just then, the servo-skull, Test Subject 1, suddenly broke the quiet, its monotone electronic voice sounding out: "All members of the 'Edgerunner' cohort. The Creator, Joric, summons you. Proceed to the main manufactorum immediately."
The sound cut off. The bastion went instantly silent. All activity stopped. Everyone's gaze snapped to Maine.
Rebecca was the first to jump up, her green cyber-eye flashing with excitement. "It's time! It's finally time! The Boss is gonna give us the upgrade!"
Pilar, just as excited, dropped his spray-gun, his slender augmetic arms waving. "Finally! I can finally retire this old-ass junk!"
Even the normally-stoic Falco pushed up his shades, a small, irrepressible smile playing on his lips. Dorio stopped her drills, sweat beading on her bronzed skin, and looked at Maine, her expression questioning.
Maine took a deep breath, his thick fingers clenching and unclenching. He looked at his crew's variously excited and nervous faces. "You heard him. Gear up. We move in five. And don't act like gonks in front of the Boss."
Kiwi silently rose from her terminal, pulling her red jacket collar higher, hiding her face. She was caught between anticipation and dread. Joric's power was unfathomable to her.
The crew walked in silence through the derelict town, toward the humming manufactorum. The air grew thicker with the scent of ozone and hot metal. The massive, reinforced blast door slid open soundlessly, revealing the vast, cold-lit space within.
Joric's tall, dark-red form stood before the central console. His crimson optical lenses swept over them as they entered. No greeting. Moiré stood in the shadows behind him like a silent sentinel, her presence almost blending with the environment.
"You have arrived," Joric's synthesized voice was flat, cutting straight to the point. "Based on the materiel you have recently tithed, and the requirements of future directives, the time for your full augmentation is at hand."
Rebecca almost cheered but managed to stifle it, clenching her fists. Pilar was rubbing his hands together, his eyes darting between Joric and the strange, arcane machinery.
Maine stepped forward, his posture respectful. "Boss, we've been waiting for your call. What's the mission?"
Joric tapped the console. A complex energy-schematic materialized in the air, showing a twisting, glowing fissure.
"The mission objective: to conduct a live-biomass, trans-dimensional transit experiment." Joric's voice was utterly flat, as if he were stating a routine maintenance task. "You will serve as the test-specimens. You will pass through a dimensional fissure, which I will stabilize, arrive in the destination reality, gather foundational environmental data, and await extraction at the designated coordinates."
The words hit them like a bucket of ice water on a hot engine. The crew's excitement instantly evaporated.
"L-live... trans-dimensional...?" Pilar's voice was dry. "Boss, you mean... you're sending us... to another world?"
Rebecca's excitement was gone, her cyber-eye wide. "What's on the other side? Is there air? We're not gonna just... materialize inside a star, are we?"
Dorio's brow furrowed, and she looked at Maine, her eyes dark with worry. This sounded far more dangerous and bizarre than they could have imagined.
Maine's own heart sank. He knew the mission would be hard, but he had never anticipated something that was outside his entire framework of reality. He forced himself to remain calm.
"Boss, what's the risk-assessment on this? Is the destination coordinate secure?"
"Risk is a quantifiable variable," Joric's reply was, as ever, direct. "Fissure-stability, coordinate-lock precision, and unknown environmental acclimatization are all factors. However, the necessary survival-protocols and safety-measures will be integrated into your augmentations. The destination coordinate, based on preliminary scans, possesses the foundational conditions to support carbon-based life."
(Joric did not, of course, reveal any information about the Warhammer universe. Telling them too much would serve no logical purpose.)
He paused, his crimson optics scanning each of them. "The choice is yours. Accept the augmentation and execute the mission, or remain in your current state. But know this: remaining in your current state means your operational value to me... will remain... stagnant."
The implication was clear. Refuse, and they would be abandoned, their protection revoked, their value to him nullified.
Maine barely hesitated.
He looked back at his crew, saw their shock, their fear, but also... a burning, unavoidable hunger for the power Moiré and Dorio now possessed.
He turned back to Joric and gave a single, heavy nod. "We accept, Boss. We knew what we were signing up for."
Joric seemed to have expected this.
"Good. The re-consecration will proceed according to your designated tactical roles." He listed them off as if reading an inventory sheet: "Maine: Cohort-Leader and Fire-Support. Dorio: Close-Assault and Vanguard. Moiré: High-Speed Assassin and Reconnaissance. Rebecca: Shock-Trooper. Pilar: Technical-Support and Area-Denial. Falco: Vehicle-Master and Logistics. Sasha, Kiwi: Electronic-Warfare and Communications."
"The augmentation rituals will be conducted in phases," he continued. "You will leave your current cybernetic data-files and usage-feedback logs with me. Then, return to your bastion and await my summons. I will determine the order and content of the augmentations."
No further explanation. No words of encouragement.
He turned back to his console, his attention already re-immersed in the flickering data-stream. The massive dimensional transporter hummed in response.
Maine's crew silently deposited their data and, under the 'guidance' of the servo-skull, left the manufactorum.
The walk back was heavy. Pilar was the first to break the silence. "Scrap... trans-dimensional-travel... this is some weird, weird shit."
Rebecca, however, had already bounced back, slapping the plasma pistol on her hip. "What's to be scared of? Boss said he'd 'integrate' safety-protocols! And after this, we'll be stronger than ever! Maybe even stronger than Moiré!"
Dorio looked at Maine. "Your thoughts?"
Maine's face was grim. "We have no other path. From the day we swore fealty, we were always going to end up in this kind of 'trouble.' And... think of the power he's offering. It's worth the gamble."
Falco sighed. "Yeah, it's worth the gamble. Just... didn't realize the stakes were this high."
Kiwi remained silent, but her hands were trembling—partly from fear of the unknown, but also from a burning, desperate anticipation for the level of electronic-warfare cybernetics she was about to receive.
They all knew. Once they stepped onto that augmentation slab, there was no going back. But the promise of that power, like a mirage in the desert, was too strong for a crew of street-level runners to resist.
(End of Chapter)