Point Zero (_.8)

Point Zero (_.8)

…

Commissioned by Ichypa 

Wordcount: 2000

…

There are many ways to defeat an individual who has succumbed to Infection.

Those who fall to the predations of the ancient bioweapon typically lose their sense of self, so that they become weapons of terror intended to destabilize an entire biosphere. Such creatures are powerful, but they work off instinct, and are barely capable of working with one another, let alone having any plan besides “attack”

Even the greatest of bioweapons, those who have mutated to the point where they would be revered as gods by prehistoric humanity, are only animals that lumber about to kill or be killed. Whether they can affect time itself, or call upon esoteric energies without names, they remain monsters that the military normally lead to one another, so one will kill the other, and the other could be picked off from afar with entrenched artillery, missile salvos, and/or orbital assets. 

In short, it is generally considered that if a bioweapon is unleashed upon a military troupe, no matter the specialty of that troupe, the bioweapon will lose. The Infection provides powers and abilities that require the mind to shine. No matter how strong the trait, ability, or power, in the face of a series of strategies with the right usage of assets, anything will fall

However, what if an Infected creature retained their mind and ability to strategize?

Some would meander about with the answer. Others would try to get obtain more information. A few would try to answer.

However, I know the answer, even if it is courtesy of a life led in the a city of rubble and detritus. 

At that point, it just becomes another fight between human beings.

Powers, technology, and skills are all just tools for the person to use to defeat someone else.

That’s all there is to it. 

…

After taking stock of the situation, and withstanding the increase in Infection within my system, I turned back to O’Hara.

“Have the Drones form a perimeter. Cordon off anything attempting to get in here that isn’t UN support.” As I spoke to her, my eyes swept through the auditorium. The security forces were being routed and broken apart by the attack, so the battle will be within the building, instead of in the streets. I fared well in either environment, but my foes were definitely going to be better off in the auditorium, where they had cover from air strikes. “Yefimova, assist her and maintain security in this area.”

“And, where will you go, Commander?”

“To the front.”

“Wait, just a bloody minute—

Cute. Without a doubt, my subordinate is very cute for caring so much, despite hearing all she had about my circumstances. She’s definitely due for a raise later, even if she’s speaking up when she shouldn’t. 

“No. Do what I’ve asked of you, O’Hara. Make sure reinforcements arrive.” Was a nod enough to not seem harsh? It didn’t feel like it was enough. After this, I need to attend classes on how to be a better leader. For now, though, what’s important is the mission. “I’ll be fine.”

O’Hara had more words for me, but with my abilities, it was easy enough to disappear down the service tunnel, and begin engaging the enemy.

Unfortunately, I forgot she was very good at accessing devices she shouldn’t.

“Idiot! Get your arse back here! I don’t care if your Template’s the Lord Almighty himself! You’re not facing a buncha commandos on your own!” O’Hara not only yelled into my ear, but also accessed the electronic lenses within my eye. How she managed to use a basic Communicator to hack into my systems, meant for controlling and coordinating Drones in my Sector, will need to be answered later… for a promotion to Electronic Warfare Specialist. I was truly fortunate to have found her. “The bastards you’re running after are running hot off of stolen, dangerous tech! Half of its illegal shit smuggled off-world! You’re not going to be dealing with them without help, Elliot!”

I truly appreciated having a subordinate that cared for my health and safety, but that’s no reason for me to coddle her by agreeing with her, and turning back at her request. Especially when I gained my position in the first place, because the United Nations wanted an asset that can solve any possible, combat-oriented problem possible in Point Zero. 

“E-excuse me?”

My purpose in Point Zero is to act as a living, breathing deterrent against all forms of foes. 

“Comrade Elliot is a hidden, strategic asset.” Yefimova chimed in, her face pressing against O’Hara’s. Her eyes were lit with a satisfied curiosity, as she spoke to me through the screen. “One that is only more potent once properly unveiled to the world, because it will have the UN’s foes wonder whether they have more of the Commander hidden away.”

I reached the end of the service tunnel, called upon my power, and lifted myself into the ceiling with a bound. Twisting and turning, I easily grew accustomed to running upon the rooftop, and bypassing the roving drones which trundled upon the carpeted floors of the Amphitheatre.

“Oi, even if that’s the case, Elliot’s facing off of a bunch of fucking killing machines meant to take people like her apart!” O’Hara spoke up, despite the Russian general’s vouching. Perhaps, it would also be wise to have her also be the first officer of my department? She’s skilled and caring. Two very important factors in a officer. “Fuck off with the politics, mate! It’s a whole load of horseshit, anyway. Get back her and stay fucking safe. Fuck, we can just leave, you know!?”

“O’Hara the reason your Commander is here is to fight. Elliot’s power must be showcased, presented, and be feared all across the world. Merely crushing criminals and destroying drug rings isn’t enough. The UN must put heart into the hearts of all its foes, otherwise they risk the lives of their people.”

“That’s a load of horsehit. They can manage to do that just fine without risking Elliot’s life!”

Who says they’re risking your life?

“Eh?”

The person in the least amount of danger in this city is you, after all.

…

The Pacific Union is a coalition of states with incredibly advanced technologies. Prior to the Event, they had the second-largest economy in the world, and were innovators in key fields in science. Though they lost much of their people in the ensuing calamity, they rebuilt themselves, grew from adversity, and became acknowledged by the Intrepid as one of the polities who can vie to rule over Earth, if they prove themselves in combat.

The design of their troops simple and meant for ease of transport. 

Their power-armored Bioweapon is an armored titan meant for mass-deployment as shock troops. Ablative armor is strapped onto an armored, motorized frame rife with sensors, so that even in death their corpses will serve as eyes and ears in the battlefield. Beneath the armor was nothing more than writhing, infected flesh kept in check through a cocktail of chemicals, which instantly became disrupted the moment the artificial lifeform is ordered to enter battle.

Their exoskeletal system is meant to endure withering fire from the enemy, and deliver a powerful, terrifying monster into enemy lines. 

Unfortunately, they picked a poor template. 

The Earthworm template poses many advantages. Their hyper-regeneration is among the finest in all Templates, due to the fact their cellular structure is somehow simplified, and their caloric requirements are vastly lowered. Soldiers with the template eat less and are nearly never wounded. Then, their offensive skill is their ability to Surge, and stretch their body at rapid speeds to bound forward and use their limbs as projectiles. Their bounds and thrusts can easily reach the same speed as subsonic ammunition. And, finally, their “esoteric” ability is the chance for them to multiply when wounded, with any piece of them potentially becoming another creature if not disposed of properly.

That is to say… without properly tearing out their nervous system and not letting another brain come into existence. 

As I did with the first squad I met, the second, and will do to the third.

If I do not manage to catch them.

“Run! Run! Get to the transports!” The Pacific Union Soldiers were screaming and running alongside their Bioweapons. They were “merely” human beings specialized in using powered armor, energy weapons, and squad-biased tactics in combat. The threat they posed to me was negligible, since I disable their weapons systems by perforating them before even engaging. They only had their knifes, armor, and auxiliaries as a means to attack me now. “Go, go, go—hrrk.” 

The man ran into one of my traps. A composition of hair and sinew fired by one of my “eyes” which functioned like a piano wire. Of course, normal piano wire wouldn’t be able to tear through the neck-plate of powered-armor, even that of the Pacific Union. I modelled the strand after an experimental, monofilament blade. It worked perfectly, cleanly removing the man’s helmed and protected head from his shoulders, and stopping the rest of the cadre.

I’ll have to send the results to my friend later, and thank him for his work.

Though I’ll most certainly have the censor the gore, given his weak stomach. 

“The leader is down… and there’s some sort of trap lining the walls! It’s blocking our way and cutting through our armor!” Another channel took up command, as I continued to stalk them from the Amphitheatre’s ceiling. They stopped instead of going further down the hallway. Did they figure out that I had more traps down there, or were they simply lucky? Hmmm, it’s best to assume to former. “Please, commander, tell us what to do—

Ah, I found them.

There were only four soldiers left and five Bioweapons.

The latter five located me quickly, their armor buckling as their mass increased, and they prepared to engage me in combat. Their faceless masks let loose roars, while their fists clenched, and their bodies started to become bound springs which would eat the distance between them and I in a heartbeat.

I took hold air within the hall, added it to what I’d gathered, and hit the Bioweapons a fifty-fold increase in atmospheric pressure.  

Simpler cells meant lesser density and damage resistance.

Thus, the creatures popped within their armored suits, leaving piles of armor dribbling with pinkish, formerly-living goop. 

I claimed as salvage, as I fell from the ceiling, and landed before the soldiers.

Though I was ready to read them their rights, they turned as one upon me, and charged with melee weapons. They must have each coordinated with one another through a closed channel, since I heard nothing, and they managed to coordinated perfectly. Four batons arcing with enough electricity to short-circuit a Combat Drone, or fry a human being, coursed toward me propelled by mechanized servos.

They never reached me, because I took the traps further back, and bound their limbs to the walls of the hall. 

They tore themselves apart in a squall of limbs, servos, armor, and blood, before their weapons could reach me.

“…Fuck.” O’Hara announced her unsanctioned intrusion into my communications channel, as I began to stem the bleeding of the soldiers. Medical foam stanched the bleeding rapidly, and it was airtight once set. After they were dealt with, I approached their commander’s helm and head, and marked him for priority retrieval after applying a medical foam that would provide oxygen to his brain, while also stanching his bleeding. “Elliot, what the hell are you doing in Point Zero, instead of fighting somewhere else?”

Yefimova was undoubtably listening, and had asked the same question, so I answered the question with both of them in mind. 

I’d spent enough time living in desolate wastelands surrounded by monsters and soldiers, so I went to Point Zero, where my skills are in high demand.

Then, the UN offered a high-paying position, with good benefits, and an upgrade to your housing upon your acceptance. 

It’s as simple as that.

There was silence on the line for a moment, before O’Hara spoke once again.

“Are you saying… you’re doing this because it’s a job that pays your bills?”

Huh?

Of course.

Who would be a Verdict Commander for a free?