Hellmarine ch. 4 rough draft

The Overmaiden watched the Hellmarine, now wrapped in a tarp like a crude toga, gaze out the viewport as the drop ship ascended through the atmosphere toward the Midnight Sea. Though he appeared to be relatively placid, she could see the tension rising in him through the modest sensor array of her mobile emitter. By this point, the damage from the incursion to the world below was visible from space as fire and destruction swept across its surface. 

It didn’t matter to the horde that the planet was sparsely populated, they sought only the destruction of everything they came across. If sentient life wasn’t available, they made do with what they had available to them. Any life would do. 

The Overmaiden felt an echo of sympathy for what the Hellmarine must have been going through. The serum would leave him disoriented for a time, but somewhere in his subconscious, he still harbored some attachment to the world below. There was still a part of him that yearned to purge every square meter of its surface of the demonic blight, even if he didn’t know why. 

“Shotgun Opera requesting clearance to land,” the pilot said up in the cockpit. 

“Midnight Sea to Shotgun Opera, you’re clear for landing,” the deck officer came back in the affirmative as they approached the ship. Though classified as a light carrier, the massive ship had once functioned as a colony ship, fully equipped with various fabrication labs to accomplish anything they might need when on their own. Had it been allowed to continue its service for its original purpose, it would have eventually been dismantled on whatever its destination world was, serving as the foundation for the colony as more infrastructure was created. 

The drop ship came in slowly and steadily, touching down flawlessly on the flight deck as the bay doors closed behind it. Once the bay was repressurized, the co-pilot toggled the rear ramp, allowing the marines to disembark. 

As they emerged from the drop ship, the hangar doors slid open, and Captain Christopher Horne stepped onto the deck. Everyone under the captain’s command snapped to attention before he gave them permission to resume their duties. “As you were.” 

The Hellmarine was the last to step off the ramp, towering over everyone else like a mythical Greek hero. The fact he wore the tarp like a crude toga completed the illusion. 

“So this is him, hm?” The captain said, stopping a few feet from the towering figure. “This is our hellmarine?” 

“Yes, sir,” the Overmaiden responded, glancing at the Hellmarine with no small amount of pride. “He’s performed rather admirably.” 

“I’d say you’ve all earned some R&R, but it turns out that the men fighting back on Zabradus have held out for much longer than expected,” Horne explained. “We’re going to be turning around to see if we can bail them out with our newest acquisition.” 

The Overmaiden knew it wasn’t so much that the forces they’d left behind had lasted longer but that their stay on Aonus had been drastically shortened. The losses that the Overmaiden had predicted were still on track to remain accurate, but the fact they had such swift success could change the ultimate outcome. 

“Alright, let’s check our gear and resupply,” the Master Sergeant ordered, taking a slightly more respectful tone in the presence of the captain. “We’ll be heading out in—.” 

“No,” the Hellmarine objected. Though he hadn’t raised his voice in the slightest, he’d still managed to cut through the Master Sergeant’s volume with ease. 

“Excuse me?” Captain Horne responded, narrowing his eyes on the man towering over him. To his credit, the captain did a good job of maintaining his aura of authority despite the height difference between them. “That wasn’t a request. It’s an order.” 

“I’m not your soldier,” the Hellmarine argued. “I’m not done here.” 

The captain looked to the Overmaiden impatiently. Having his command questioned by a near-naked man who’d just set foot on his ship was a level of disrespect beyond the pale. The AI stepped into the Hellmarine’s field of view, peering up at him. “You are a weapon—an arsenal, as you said— to be wielded against demon kind, correct?” 

The Hellmarine’s eyes drifted slowly to the Overmaiden, who remained uncowed by the withering stare that he gave her. The Marines standing nearby exchanged glances with one another to see how the hulking figure would respond. 

“This is the job,” the Overmaiden continued, motioning to the captain and the Marines. “You are to be wielded in defense of these people—in service to these men.” 

“I’m. Not. Done.” The Hellmarine repeated, the muscles in his jaw flexing in frustration. The Overmaiden glanced at Dr. Hughes, who was sending her a current readout from her scans. There was an anomaly in his biometrics that the doctor couldn’t quite explain. The Overmaiden recognized it as a strange fluctuation of unknown energy. It was faint but somehow tied to what the Hellmarine was trying to convey. “There’s a general down there…” 

Though the Hellmarine said nothing, she understood that he was in agreement with her. Somehow, he’d sensed the presence of the creature and, perhaps, could still feel it from there. 

The AI pursed her lips and looked between the captain and the bay doors. “We can’t let you go back down there without the proper gear. Let us get you what you need to finish the job here and run some scans. In exchange, you’ll trust us to put you where you’re needed most.” 

The Hellmarine regarded her silently for a moment before issuing her a single nod. His gaze shifted back to the captain, and he repeated the nod, acknowledging the man’s authority for the time being. The captain’s posture relaxed, signaling to the rest of the men within earshot that the moment of tension had passed. 

“Dr. Hughes,” the Overmaiden said more calmly. “Prep the lab for the Hellmarine. I’ll have him escorted up to you once he’s done with the armorer. Cox, that’ll be your job.” 

“Ugh, why do I have to be the babysitter, ma’am?” Cox protested, pulling the helmet of his armor off. “Can’t I get some chow first?” 

“You heard the lady,” the Master Sergeant barked. “Get nature boy down to the armorer pronto!” 

The group broke up to address their individual assignments, leaving Captain Horne and the Overmaiden alone. 

“Walk with me,” the captain said as he exited the hangar. The Overmaiden did as he asked and walked alongside him, relying on her mobile emitter to navigate the corridors rather than switch immediately to the onboard holo-projectors. “Are you sure about this one?” 

The Overmaiden sighed a little, chewing her lip in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness. She had a great deal of autonomy to do what was needed to see the project through, and she had a great deal of latitude in commanding the Marines of the ship, but the Midnight Sea was still the captain’s ship, and she had no desire to be at odds with him. “Sir, I believe so.” 

“We have an unconventional command structure here,” the captain pointed out, walking briskly down the corridor. Various crewmen saluted the captain as they passed. “Having an AI as first officer isn’t something most captains would accept. I consider myself open-minded—forward thinking—but insubordination like that cannot be tolerated.” 

“I understand, sir,” the Overmaiden responded apologetically. “He’s still fresh off the fight and lacks the proper training, but I will take care of that.” 

The captain gave her a pensive look, seeing the unusual display of emotion on her face. “What’s he hung up on?” 

“I think he can sense the presence of a general, sir,” the Overmaiden responded honestly. “We’ll have to run additional scans to be certain, but Dr. Hughes detected an anomaly in her passive scans during the exchange.” 

Captain Horne slowed to a stop, looking her in the eyes. The gravity of the suggestion was not lost on him. He knew as well as her the significance of the presence of a general. “Why here?” 

“I’m not sure,” the Overmaiden admitted. “But we observed an ancient zintari gateway that had been uncovered in one of the labs. It appeared to be converted somehow to suit the needs of the demons. It raises more questions in need of answers, I’m afraid.” 

“Indeed,” the captain agreed, composing himself. He was understandably torn about what to do next. 

“Sir,” the Overmaiden continued respectfully. “Let me bring him back down to the surface with just a single squad of Marines. You can bring the rest to rendezvous with the rest at Zabradus, and we’ll catch up.” 

The captain looked ambivalent, but it seemed like a suitable compromise for handling the situation. “We won’t be able to hold them for long without him in the mix.” 

“I understand, sir,” the Overmaiden acknowledged. “Convince everyone that’s left to assume a defensive posture to hold the line, and we’ll get there before the horde can break it.” 

Horne let a long breath out through his nose, glancing down the corridor thoughtfully before giving her a nod. “Very well. Get him checked out and outfitted, and get going. We’ll depart as soon as you’re en route to the surface.” 

“Thank you, sir,” the Overmaiden responded gratefully. 

“Overmaiden,” the captain said dryly, pointing a finger at her. “Don’t make me regret this. Dismissed.” 

The AI glanced at her mobile emitter before making her way down the corridor to the nearest lift. There, she joined a crewman down a few decks to engineering, where the armorer’s workshop was located. 

Claire Arleth was regarded throughout Alliance space as a legendary power armor engineer and cybernetics technician. Captain Horne had managed to poach her from another project at the Overmaiden’s request, calling in a few of his favors with Fleet Command to do so. Claire had done incredible work with upgrades to the existing armor of the Marines aboard the ship, along with handling firmware upgrades that allowed the Overmaiden herself to quickly jump from system to system when needed. 

But the thing they had poached her for was the second half of Project Brutality—the Hades Mk. II power armor. As the Overmaiden stepped off of the lift into the Armorer’s workshop, she was just in time to see the last pieces of armor settling into place on the Hellmarine. Every suit of power armor required the assistance of robotic arms to get in and out of quickly, but the significant height and mass of the Hellmarine made the process a true spectacle.

Sparks shot from contact points as pieces were fixed into place, the running lights of the nearby console going dim each time. Claire stepped out from behind one of the other consoles and frowned in the direction of the AI. “This would have been much smoother if we weren’t running in stealth mode,” she complained. 

Claire fussed with the messy bun on the back of her head as she looked the Hellmarine over. The armor was color-coded in much the same way as the standard issue power armor for Marines, but there was no mistaking it for anything but Claire’s custom work. 

Hades armor was composed of dense, ablative, lightweight alloys capable of dispersing a great deal of kinetic energy and withstanding extreme temperatures. An internal fusion core polarized the outer shell, further dispersing kinetic impacts but also offering resistance to energy weapons and similar attacks. The inner layer of the armor was composed of a sophisticated lattice capable of augmenting and reading the movements of the Hellmarine, operating as an entire secondary layer of artificial muscle that interfaced with the outer shell. 

Other features of the armor included the ability to host assistant AIs, a HUD for environmental readouts and suit diagnostics, a hacking module, a communications array, and thrusters for zero-G navigation. The suit was completely sealed, allowing the Hellmarine to function in a complete vacuum and other incredibly hostile environments regarding temperature, gravity, and pressure. The dark faceplate in the center of the helmet concealed all but the vaguest shapes of the Hellmarines face within. 

“Firmware’s all updated, and diagnostics are clean,” Claire announced, her eyes flickering with the reads on her cybernetic retinas. She crossed her thick arms over her chest, admiring the imposing figure the Hellmarine had now that the process was finished. The robotic arms retreated to their stand-by positions, allowing him to step off of the platform and onto the deck. Claire let out a long, low whistle. “Damn, it’s a beaut’, eh?” 

The Hellmarine held out his arms, examining the armor more closely as he flexed. He opened and closed his hands, testing how it felt. The Hades armor couldn’t be worn by any normal human; the amount of torque in the joints alone would have shattered limbs with ease. The sensitivity ratings were beyond the ability of any regular marine. Given time, it would become like a second skin for the Hellmarine. 

Several other engineers, most of which were assisting Claire, gathered around to watch the Hellmarine test out the Hades armor. Many of them muttered among one another, speculating about performance and complimenting the design choices that the Armorer had made. Few in engineering referred to her by her given name. Indeed, few of the Marines referred to her by the name either. It was always just “The Armorer,” and Claire seemed to prefer it that way. 

“How does it feel?” Claire asked, the lights in her cybernetic eyes flickering a few more times as she held a hand out toward the Hellmarine to let the sensors she had embedded there do another quick scan. 

The Hellmarine nodded approvingly. He was a man of few words, the Overmaiden realized, but he still had ways of getting his point across when he needed to. Even in his more solemn state, he wasted little time with superfluous conversation. “Good.” 

“Okay,” Claire nodded and pointed to a long yellow line painted on the deck. “Real quick, I’ll need you to walk this line from here to the end. Then, follow the prompts in your visor to complete the calibration. Once it’s done, we’ll have that little bit of latency eliminated entirely.” 

The Hellmarine glanced down at the line and did as instructed, lumbering down the line to the far end of the workshop at a leisurely pace. 

“He’s fucking gigantic,” Claire muttered to the Overmaiden. “I thought you were overblowing it when you gave me the original specs, but goddamn. Must be the first guy I’ve seen bigger than Wall.” 

“His stature is rather impressive,” the Overmaiden agreed. “Among other things. I assume you made the appropriate adjustments for his genitals?” 

Claire scoffed incredulously. “Word doesn’t really cover it, does it? Thing is a fuck-sausage if I ever saw one. A meat hammer, if you will. A monument to sin and vice contained within one man.” 

The Overmaiden raised a brow toward the woman until she abruptly stopped. “Are you done?” 

“For now,” Claire chuckled. “I’ll come up with a few more, I’m sure.” 

“Dr. Hughes seemed rather taken with it as well,” the Overmaiden remarked as she watched the Hellmarine move his arms and legs at the end of the line in pre-scripted fashion to better calibrate the armor. 

The Armorer nodded with an amused look on her face. “Yeah, she strikes me as a size queen. It doesn’t do anything for you?” 

“Of course not,” the Overmaiden responded incredulously. “I’ve no need for such things within my matrix.” 

“Tch!” Claire clicked her tongue skeptically. “If you wanna bullshit the others with that unfeeling fuckery, that’s fine. But you and I both know better than that. Don’t insult my intelligence.” 

The Overmaiden regarded the armorer with curiosity, unsure of what she was referring to specifically. 

“Unless specifically purged, Ghost AIs retain all of the same personality quirks and preferences as the originals they were based on. It’s why we have them—for better or for worse,” The Armorer explained as the Hellmarine began his trek back to them along the yellow line. 

The AI offered Claire a soft smile in reply. “My original typically preferred the company of women.” 

“Ohhh,” Claire laughed with a nod of understanding. “Well, shit… I suppose I should ask you when you get off duty then, huh?” 

“You can’t be serious,” the Overmaiden responded cooly. 

“I make it a habit not to be,” the Armorer winked before approaching the Hellmarine to ask him a few questions about the process. The Overmaiden thought back through her previous iterations, back to the human she was based on. What she’d said hadn’t been a lie, but it hadn’t been the whole truth either. Being a sixth-generation AI meant that each iteration of herself had its own lived experiences and personality traits that evolved over their lifetimes. Those were then handed forward to the next generation, allowing her to change and adapt to the times. So it was true that her original preference was mostly for women, but that meant little after a couple of iterations of the Ghost AI. 

The Overmaiden pushed such frivolity out of her mind. She had no use for it. Her current and only mission was to beat back the vast invasion of demons not just in her galaxy—or even her universe—but in the entire multiverse that they plagued. The lingering artifacts of a flesh-and-blood existence were only that—artifacts. 

“Alright!” Claire declared, clapping her hands together and cutting through the AI’s moment of introspection. “Now that we’ve got the armor all set let’s get you a fuckin’ weapon, eh?”