May 12th, 2184 – The Interstellar Void
In the deep cold of the void, a ship, which had laid silent for a century, slowly awakened from its long slumber.
Outside, on its hull, a maintenance hatch had been opened and a cable plugged in, uploading codes that had laid dormant in a half-forgotten database for a hundred years. Slowly, drawing on the last dregs of its emergency power reserves, the ship stirred. Its sluggish engines ignited, turning stores of E-710 (the precious liquid being able to remain usable for thousands of years at least, according to the Ministry of Science) into warmth and light. Computer systems turned on, and crashed almost immediately under the weight of a century's worth of update patches suddenly arriving all at once, before starting back up again once a few very nervous tech supports managed to cobble together a workaround.
On a bridge whose design was similar but slightly different to that of the ship's modern descendants, lights flickered into life, followed by the dusty screens of console stations. Air was pumped in through tubes connecting the ship to the great cargo vessel which had intruded upon its rest, and the ventilation sputtered into action, creating air currents that had been designed to make the capes of the ship's fighting complement flutter in the breeze in a suitably heroic fashion.
Only one section of the ship had remained active during its long hibernation : the cryogenic pods, containing several hundreds frozen Helldivers. They were the ones who had joined the Helldivers Corps near the end of the First Galactic War, and found themselves surplus to requirement when the enemies of Democracy had been brought to heel. Each had been promised a war to fight in, but that war had ended before they'd the chance to fire the first bullet at antidemocratic scum, and so, in their infinite generosity, the leaders of Super Earth had decided that they would be kept asleep until such time as their strength was needed once more. With some trepidation, the humans floating outside the hull in protective suits activated diagnostic checks, and breathed a sigh of relief as all signals came back Democratic blue, indicating no issue with the human cargo.
As the ship's sensors turned on and reached out to its surroundings, they detected the heat signatures of more vessels emerging from their own decades-long torpor. Dozens, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands, each with its own cargo of frozen champions. Yet not all of them had survived the century of cryogenic storage : entropy was a cruel mistress, and one against whom the best scientists of the Federation were still fighting to this day.
Despite the isolation of the slumbering fleet, some ships had sustained damage from passing micro-meteorites and cosmic radiation, or had suffered failures in critical parts, leading to the deaths of their human reserves. None of the thousands of men and women working to activate the Reserve Fleet dared voice the treacherous thought that this was due to a lack of maintenance by the Federation, of course : the watchful eyes of the Democracy Officers ensured that such unpatriotic sentiments weren't allowed to take root. These ships failed to awaken, and were marked for dismantling and recycling.
Once the internal atmosphere was established, fresh crew began to board, led by Democracy Officers newly appointed by the Ministry of Truth. Aboard every reawakened ship, four Helldivers were unfrozen, and given all the information Super Earth had deemed necessary for them to fulfil the terms of their enlistment contract. They were shocked to learn that a hundred years had passed, but thanks to the Democracy Officers' motivational skills, not one of them failed to overcome any grief they might have felt, replacing it with righteous fury aimed at the enemies of Freedom.
Even with the vast resources of Super Earth, it took time for the entire Reserve Fleet to be fully activated, but eventually, the last Super Destroyer signalled its readiness. At once, a single order was given on the bridge of over half a million ships :
To jump to Malevelon Creek, and crush the enemies of Freedom who dwelled there.
***
"HELLDIVERS !
DEMOCRACY NEEDS YOU !
For one hundred years you slept, waiting for the time Super Earth would call upon you. That time has come.
The Cyborgs' vile progeny, the soulless Automatons, threaten the Federation and all its innocent voters. In the face of their unprovoked aggression, there can be only one answer :
Kill them all !
The current frontline of our just and righteous war against the Automaton Legion is Malevelon Creek, a world whose jungles have been watered in the blood of countless patriots. Already, the greatest battle of our age is being waged on its surface, as the forces of Democracy battle the mindless minions of Socialism.
But, faced with the cowardly tactics and treachery of our foe, the brave heroes fighting on Malevelon Creek need assistance in order to ensure our inevitable victory is as absolute as Liberty requires.
Thus, you are ordered to proceed to the Malevelon Creek system at once, and bring the wrath of Managed Democracy upon all those who would threaten it.
Spill oil !"
Briefing delivered to the Helldivers of the Reserve Fleet following the enactment of the eXcellent Backup Of Xenokillers for Optimizing the Neutralization of Enemies decree, May 13th, 2184.
***
"Freedom's greetings, I am your host, Coretta Kelly.
Following the President's activation of the eXcellent Backup Of Xenokillers for Optimizing the Neutralization of Enemies decree, the Helldivers' campaign of righteous retribution against the Automatons has advanced considerably.
Honored veterans from the First Galactic War have returned to finish the fight begun against the communist Cyborgs a century ago by wiping out their mechanized successors.
With Malevelon Creek liberated, a day of vengeful contemplation has been decreed, with all Citizens invited to think on all the Liberty-loving lives lost, and pour their anger into their work for the benefit of the Federation.
General Brasch's wounds in his second duel against the Devil of the Creek were so severe that, despite his own vehement objections, the Ministry of Defense has decided that, in view of his many years of exemplary service to the Federation, the time has come for him to finally retire from front-line duty, and focus on passing on his wisdom to the next generation of Helldivers. A retirement ceremony is currently being planned, to take place on Super Earth once the General has recovered enough to be able to attend.
Although every Citizen of the Federation mourns the loss of such a great figure as Brasch, a new heroine has risen. After Brasch was wounded due to the Devil's cowardly tactics, Chief Mary Sue of the Helldivers charged in to rescue her superior, saving his life and engaging the Devil in heroic combat with such strength and determination that the Automaton Commander was forced to flee not only the field, but the planet altogether.
By order of the President, Chief Mary Sue will attend the retirement ceremony of General Brasch, during which she shall be presented with a newly designed cape, to mark her great deed, which shall be remembered forevermore in the annals of Super Earth. In the meantimes, young girls all across the galaxy are already playing games where they are Mary Sue fighting the vile Devil, much to their parents' patriotic joy.
Up next : a child is honored by the Ministry of Truth for bringing the dissidents hiding within his own family to their attention. Stay tuned !"
Strohmann News broadcast, May 15th, 2184 (approved by the Ministry of Truth).
***
May 16th, 2184 – Automaton Flagship Ghost of Cyberstan, Durgen orbit
"They have done what ?!"
Floating inside a life-support pod, with more tubes connected to my insides than I was comfortable with – including a rebreather which doubled as a communication device allowing me to speak to those standing outside the pod – I stared at the abstract holographic form of JOEL with abject incomprehension. I had only just returned to consciousness and a state where I could be briefed on what had happened in my absence, and I wondered whether there were still some drugs coursing through my system, which would explain what JOEL had just told me.
The Lazarus Chamber I was floating into had been designed by the Cyborgs as part of the Nephilim Project. Without it, it wouldn't have served any purpose in the Automaton Legion, for its sole function was to assist in the healing of human flesh. I had read through its specifications a few years ago, while trying to understand just what hell Being X had dropped me into, and been impressed despite myself. The healthcare services of my old world would have killed thousands of lab animals to get their hands on it. How exactly it worked was beyond me (it involved something about nanomachines and a combination of synthesized biological compounds which had been discovered during the early stages of Mankind's space exploration beyond the boundaries of the Solar system), but it had undeniably saved my life.
I was pretty sure the stims the Helldivers used were based on a knock-off version of that technology, using knowledge taken from the Cyborgs at the end of the First Galactic War. However, right now, I had more pressing things to think about that the Federation's theft of my forebears' intellectual property.
"The Federation of Super Earth deployed a previously unknown fleet to the Malevelon Creek system three days ago," repeated JOEL. "Analysis of the vessels show that they are Super Destroyers of a pattern not seen in action since the First Galactic War. In addition, the Helldivers they have deployed wear suits of armor and wargear corresponding to that period, although this appears to be changing as the arsenals aboard these ships is being upgraded by the Federation. Based on this and various intercepted communications within the Federation, we believe this is the Reserve Fleet created at the end of the First Galactic War using the forces which had just become surplus to requirements."
"With you being out of action and the arrival of this new force tipping the balance of power, the Automaton Legion has lost Malevelon Creek, and we are hard-pressed on Durgen, Ubanea, Maia and Mantes," they concluded.
I blinked, and looked at the data taken from the Automaton fleet through my brand new replacement cybernetic eye. They had been engaging the Federation vessels already in-system when a veritable armada of ships had suddenly jumped in. Even though the ships were old, they were still a threat in void warfare, and quantity had a quality of its own (ironic as it might be to think so given who the quote had been misattributed to in my old world). The situation had made it difficult for the Automaton fleet to get a precise count of these unexpected reinforcements, but this looked to be in the ballpark of how many Super Destroyers we'd thought Super Earth had in total at the start of the Reclamation.
I blinked again, and the images changed to show the Helldivers on the ground, reinforcing the Final Fortress with a veritable deluge of Hellpods. I looked at the timestamp, and decided not to comment on the fact the fortress should really have been taken by that time if we had stuck to the plan, even with the Jet Brigade and myself taken out of the equation. The reason why it hadn't been was pretty obvious, and I wasn't going to blame JOEL for prioritizing my own survival over immediate victory.
"I heard about this," said Elia from where she stood next to Visha. "But I thought the Reserve Fleet was a mere rumor, one more lie used to bolster morale by ensuring everyone that Super Earth wasn't fighting at full strength. I apologize for failing to identify this threat beforehand."
Elia had just finished her return trip to the Legion from her deployment deep behind enemy lines. This wasn't what I had in mind for my first face-to-face meeting with the Automatons' top infiltrator unit, but it would have to do. Right now, she was wearing the human disguise she'd worn during most of her time under cover, albeit with a few modifications to make her nature obvious – her 'uniform' was the red and black of the Legion, and her eyes seemed to be two implants identical to mine.
Given the proportions of her assumed human for, part of me couldn't help but think she looked more like a dedicated cosplayer from a sci-fi series that danced around the line between seriousness and parody, but I kept that to myself.
"Alright," I said after spending a few seconds mentally processing this monumental piece of bad news. "Elia, don't beat yourself over not finding out that there was some truth behind Super Earth's propaganda for once. The situation is bad, but not catastrophic. We suspected all along that the Federation might have some cards up its sleeve : flushing them out is the whole reason why we chose our current vector of attack instead of going straight for Cyberstan."
Admittedly, we hadn't thought an entire new Helldivers fleet the size of the one previously deployed across both fronts of the Second Galactic War was one of these trump cards. I wondered how fast the Federation had brought it back online – and, given what I knew of Super Earth's approach to things like work ethic and reasonable deadlines, how many shortcuts had been taken and what the consequences had been. Unfortunately, without Elia's eyes in the Ministry of Defense's headquarters, I was unlikely to ever get the answer.
"Falling back was the correct decision," I told JOEL as I took in more details. Not that they needed my approval, but giving the appearance of agreeing with their decisions was simply common sense, and besides, in that case it had actually been. "Our plan to turn Malevelon Creek into a meat grinder worked, but the Federation's response was to throw so much meat into it that it broke. We're going to need to scale things up across the entire front, use our defense-in-depth to build more defenses following the lessons we learned on Malevelon Creek. What's the Federation saying about this whole mess ?"
"They are claiming Malevelon Creek was a glorious victory, and that they must capitalize on it to wipe us out. They're denying Brasch's death, but are instead pretending he got injured badly enough to need to retire. At the same time, they're propping up the Helldiver who injured you to counteract any morale impact from the loss of their artificial legend. Apparently, her name is Mary Sue, and she only joined the Helldivers Corps a few weeks ago."
"Right," I grimaced, suddenly reminded of the crazed young woman with golden eyes, and all that implied. Up until now, I'd managed not to think about it, but sooner or later that issue had to be confronted. "She's still alive, then. Do we know anything else about her, beyond Super Earth's propaganda ?"
"Actually, we do," said JOEL. "During our retreat from Malevelon Creek, I was able to secure a blood sample from her using one of the combat models left behind to cover the withdrawal, and bring it to one of our bases for scanning before it was destroyed."
"Oh." I leant forward in the Lazarus Chamber, feeling that it was reasonable for me to show interest, even if I couldn't let the Automatons know about Being X. "If you're bringing this up to me, I assume there was something interesting in the data ?"
"Yes," JOEL confirmed. "I ran a DNA analysis on the sample, and I am 94.8739% sure that I found a paternal match with the iteration of Brasch you faced on Tien Kwan."
I blinked again, with both eyes this time. Out of everything I'd thought JOEL might told me, that possibility hadn't occurred to me.
"So I did kill her father," I sighed, before falling into silent contemplation.
Revenge was an illogical emotion in war, but nothing about the Federation was logical. I was surprised that whatever cabal was behind the Brasch deception would give any true information to the relatives of their chosen puppets, but I doubted Mary had known the details of her father's demise. She likely was far from the only idiotic teenager to sign up for the Helldivers after receiving a letter informing them one of their parents had been killed in action by the infamous Devil of the Creek. For all I knew, given the Federation's martyrdom obsession, I might very well be credited with the death of every single Helldiver who'd died on a world I was on at the time – or not, come to think of it.
Far more worrying was Being X's intervention. What was his angle here ? Did he simply want Sue to kill me ? That seemed unlikely. He had been the one to reincarnate me in this mad galaxy to begin with, and so far I thought I'd done what he wanted me to do by fighting the Federation, no matter how much it galled me. Was it that I wasn't suffering enough for his liking ?
Our short conversation, if it could even be called that, had shown that he valued human faith – or rather, human spiritualism and religion. There was a lot of blind faith in the Federation, but it was directed entirely at the empty slogans and principles of 'Democracy' and 'Freedom', and I hadn't found anything about a belief in the afterlife or the human soul while scouring the civilian data we'd recovered during our initial invasion, just a lot of garbage about the heroic dead resting in Liberty's embrace which I was pretty sure was metaphorical and not to be taken literally.
Perhaps Being X's influence was limited in this reality by the lack of human spirituality ? That would fit with his final words before reincarnating me, about Humanity having turned from him completely here. Was I being used to prop up the Automatons as an existential threat in the eyes of the Federation, in the hope that this would somehow cause them to return to religion ? If so, then Being X had badly misunderstood my argument to him that faith was a result of harsh circumstances. I couldn't imagine the brainwashed hordes of Super Earth abandoning their 'values' – if it was that easy, I would have broken the morale of the Helldivers by now – let alone returning to religions the Federation had cast aside before the First Galactic War.
But then again, expecting competence from Being X was probably as foolish as expecting it from Super Earth High Command. So, was that it ? Sue was his puppet, empowered to serve as a prophet of some kind after she fought the 'Devil' I had become in the eyes of the Federation ? She hadn't said anything about any kind of god while we had fought, but maybe that was supposed to come later, once her reputation was more established, and the Federation had done all the hard work of building up her legend.
In any case, it was clear that our paths would cross again at some point in the future, and I would need to be ready for it.
"What about Neumann ? How is he doing ?"
"Continuity of consciousness was interrupted by the orbital laser. He lost the last minute of his instance on Malevelon Creek."
"So he died saving me," I said.
"I think he would disagree with that assessment, and consider it worthwhile even if he didn't. Your life is important to the Legion, Tanya."
"I will talk with him later to thank him. I would prefer to do it in person, but I can't exactly move right now, and bringing him here …" I made a show of looking around, moving my head through the liquid of my pod at the rest of the room. The space was far too small for Neumann's bulk : even Visha and Elia were already crowding it.
"I will tell you the moment you can leave the Lazarus Chamber," JOEL assured me.
"Speaking of which, how long will my recovery take ?" I asked.
The holographic image of JOEL flickered briefly as they parsed untold amounts of data.
"It will be a couple of weeks before you can get out of the chamber, at the very least," they said after a few seconds. "And twice that time before you can even think of returning to the battlefield."
"That long ?" I blinked, surprised. I didn't feel that bad, but with all the drugs coursing through my body, that was hardly surprising.
"You nearly died, Tanya," said Visha. Her eyes were wide and trembling, and I suspected she would have cried if her body's model had allowed her to. As it was, the expression was more than a little surreal.
"In fact, strictly medically speaking, you did die," said JOEL. "You flatlined no less than three times during your evacuation off Malevelon Creek. Weiss had to jump-start your heart by pulling out some wires out of his arm in order to create a makeshift defibrillator."
"Oh," I said feebly. "I … I didn't realize. Sorry to have worried you like this."
"You couldn't predict what happened, Tanya," JOEL attempted to reassure me, no doubt unwilling to have their prize Nephilim Commander start doubting herself. "Sue's combat performance was far beyond expectations, even if you were already injured from killing Brasch. But you will need to be more careful in the future. The Network is still struggling to make sense of how Sue managed to hurt you in the first place, but if she could do it, then other Helldivers might achieve it as well."
I wasn't surprised the Automatons couldn't figure out how Sue had managed to hurt me, given literal divine intervention probably hadn't been programmed into their databases. For a brief moment, I considered the idea of coming clean and telling JOEL everything, but swiftly discarded it. Best case scenario, they would think I'd cracked and put me into cryogenic stasis along with my ten predecessors. Worst case scenario … well, I didn't want to think about that if I could help it.
"The next time we meet, things will go very differently," I promised out loud, to approving nods of the three artificial intelligences facing me. "Now, let's go over our strategy for the coming days …"
***
May 20th, 2184 – Malevelon Creek orbit
He woke up slowly, which was a surprise, as he hadn't expected to ever wake at all.
"Easy there, Colonel," said a voice he didn't recognize. "You've gotten hurt quite badly, even for a man of your experience."
"Water," he croaked out.
Someone pushed a straw into his mouth, and the tepid recycled water was the finest thing he'd ever drunk. After a couple of swallows, his throat didn't feel as dry, and he was able to take in his surroundings. The walls were made of metal, and hummed gently in the way they always did aboard Federation ships.
"Where …" he began.
"You are aboard the SEAF medical frigate Deliverer of Mercy," replied the man who had given him water. Looking at him now, Eric Lergen – his sense of self finally kicking back into gear – noticed that he was wearing the uniform of a medic, which made sense even to his sluggish mind given his words. "We had to replace a lot of your organs so that you would survive. Fortunately, between your ranks and the orders from High Command to make sure the heroes of Malevelon Creek were given all the help they needed, we were able to get all the parts we needed."
"The … the parts ?"
"Yes," the medic nodded. "I won't bother you with the details right now; you probably wouldn't remember them anyway. But don't worry, the replacements will work just as well as the original ones. Better even, in some cases !"
Unwilling to press the man further and risk getting answers he didn't want, Eric turned his head around. There were many other beds around him, and a heavy door at the end of the room, with a pair of Freedom Enforcers standing guard and a lit sign above that said 'SURGERY IN PROGRESS'. The medic noticed his gaze :
"That's where the Chief is being treated," whispered the medic in an awed tone.
"The Chief ?" Lergen blinked. There was only one Chief that came to mind, unlikely though it was, and he asked : "Do you mean Chief Sue ? Mary Sue, of the Helldivers ?"
"Yes," the medic nodded frantically. "She brought the Devil low, but she collapsed right after. I haven't been allowed to look at her exams' results, of course, but the surgeons have been working around the clock to keep her alive."
"That's strange," Lergen muttered. "I don't remember her being hurt … Wait, no. She was fighting the Devil – you're saying she won ?!"
"You saw her fight ?!" the medic squealed, before remembering himself. "Sorry, it's just … with General Brasch out of action for the foreseeable future, everyone is looking up to her to lead the hunt for the Devil and finish the fight. But I shouldn't bother you with questions. You need to focus on resting and recovering."
Eric waved him off. "No, no. Tell me what happened. I lost consciousness right after Sue began fighting the Devil. Is … is the Devil …" His words caught in his throat, as if he was scared that merely speaking up the possibility would shatter the fragile hope.
"Dead ?" The medic gave a bitter smile. "We don't know. The Chief struck her down, but the bots pulled her out. Without a body, High Command is reluctant to confirm the kill."
Mostly because the chances of the Devil popping back up were too high to risk it, a treacherous part of Lergen's mind whispered, which he promptly ignored.
"But !" the medic continued with a beaming smile. "You did push the bots off Malevelon Creek and sent them running ! The Reserve Fleet arrived right in time to kick them in the fundament as they ran, too."
"That … that is great news," he managed to say.
Despite only having been awake for a few minutes, exhaustion was already creeping in. The medic must have noticed, because he gave him an encouraging smile :
"There, there. Go to sleep, Colonel. Don't worry, you'll be back up and at them in no time !"
As darkness claimed Eric Lergen once more and he fell into a sleep that was far from peaceful, haunted as it was by dreams of metallic killers, he couldn't help but resent the man for voicing such a patriotic sentiment.
***
"The subject's survival is, frankly, a medical miracle. By the time she reached the operation chamber, stress and exhaustion level were far beyond human tolerance. More of her muscles were torn from hysterical strength than remained intact. A severe deficiency in water and nutrients were causing her organs to start self-cannibalizing, and while similar symptoms were observed on many of the survivors of Malevelon Creek (due to the vile Automatons sending in wave after wave of disposable bots to prevent our brave soldiers from availing themselves of their Federation-mandated nourishment, no doubt), none had progressed to that level.
And all of that is only the damage she took before the Automatons shot her after her duel with their commander. More of her ribs were broken than not, and she endured a severe concussion when her helmet broke (likely due to being sabotaged by Automaton sympathizers). What parts of her skin weren't covered in cuts instead formed a giant bruise.
We can only ascribe the fact that she lived long enough to be extracted from Malevelon Creek to the will of Lady Liberty. Nevertheless, now that we have successfully stabilized her, it is the professional opinion of myself and my team that she will make a full recovery in time to attend the planned ceremonies on Super Earth, albeit under some rather severe medication. Full recovery will take longer."
Extract from the medical report of Helldiver Chief Mary Sue, filed in the archives of Permacura on May 21st, 2184.
***
"For exemplary conduct and valor displayed under enemy fire, we hereby promote [COLONEL] [ERIC LERGEN] to the rank of [GENERAL], effective immediately.
With this promotion come the associated increase in the stipend of Super Credits delivered to the closest living relative : [ERROR : DATA NOT FOUND].
Immediately following that promotion, [GENERAL] [ERIC LERGEN] is to be deployed to [DURGEN]."
Decree of the Ministry of Defense, May 22nd, 2184