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042 – “Everything Ends Eventually.“


Once passed the force field, Mech reached the sub-basement level on which she expected the tri-cobalt bomb quickly and without further incident, leaving the Starfleet assault team behind to deal with the remaining terrorists above.

Her objective was clear. Find the explosive, which according to her calculations had now been primed to go off within three minute and thirty-six seconds, and disarm it any way possible.

Even with the little time she had left, she knew she couldn’t rush matters. Chances were guards had been posted to stop anyone attempting to tamper with the device.

She freed her Glock from the thigh-holster and adopting the tried and true Weaver stance, she slowly entered the vast sub-basement floor.

Since main power to the building had been cut, the lights were out, leaving only the sporadic auxiliary illumination which cast the cavernous floor into a dim green glow. Mech quickly switched on her optical enhancers and before even fully stepping into the floor, she carefully scanned her surroundings.

The fact that she couldn’t pick up any sign of life didn’t mean that the area was secure. In fact she had already expected this ever since learning that these terrorists weren’t made of flesh and blood.

And neither are you. So tell me, where’s the difference?

Mech decided that this was neither the time nor place for existential deliberations and kept moving while she kept her head on a swivel to try and spot any dangers or possible ambushes before it was too late.

The fact that the entire floor appeared to be open-planned was both an advantage and a disadvantage. There weren’t many places to hide, excluding a few large storage crates and thick, symmetrically positioned support beams. It also meant a lack of cover should she come under fire.

It took no time at all to identify the bomb. Or bombs for that matter. Packs of azure-colored liquid, gallons of the stuff, were strapped to seemingly every single support beam. Whoever had wired the building had done their homework and been deadly serious about bringing the entire thing down and turning it into a heap of junk and debris.

The tactic of using multiple devices forced her to change her own strategy to try and manually disarm the explosives. There simply was not enough time to try to attend to each of he dozes of explosives.

She did however find a makeshift computer console which had been brought in to configure the bombs. She took one more quick look around to be reasonably sure that the air was clear, before placing her Glock aside and accessing the computer.

As predicted all normal attempts to gain access failed thanks to a series of sophisticated encryption protocols which had been programmed into the console. It was nothing Mech hadn’t seen before.

She quickly slapped a dataport on the console and one on the side of her neck. Within seconds she had accessed the virtual user interface and was well on her way to circumvent the device’s security and firewalls. They were aggressive too, programmed with a counter-hacking protocol they were designed to not only stop intruders but to spike them, frying their enhancers and flat-lining a hacker instantly.

Mech of course wasn’t just any hacker and she managed to defeat the level six, double-layered firewall in just under twenty seconds. A personal best for her.

No sooner had the thought that all this was a little bit too easy crossed her mind, did she realize that the initial firewall did not actually protect the detonator controls. Instead she had merely gained access to the user interface.

From here she was able to control what looked like the communications jammer, the transporter scramblers and the detonators. And each individual system was protected by its own series of additional firewalls.

Her first instinct of course was to go for the bomb controls but after realizing that it would take her at least five minutes to break those firewalls, she focused on something easier first. The scrambler was nearly as difficult to crack so that left the communications jammer which went down within a few seconds.

She started hacking the firewalls protecting the detonator controls even while she sent and update to the Masamune who she hoped would be able to receive her now. < Chief, this is Mech. I have gained entry to the sub-level and discovered the bombs. There are at least two dozen individual devices down here but I have located the central control station and disabled the communications jammer. Cracking the transporter scrambler is going to be a lot tougher and I’m not going to be able to do that with the time we have left. The bombs are about two minutes away from turning this building into rubble. I’m don’t think I have enough time to shut it down but I may be able to find a way to buy us some more. >

Mech quickly learned that things upstairs were worse than she had thought. She was relieved to learn that Slade and Tank’s team had eliminated the terrorists on the seventy-fourth floor but alarmed that Starfleet had openly attacked MSD over jurisdictional nonsense and delaying the evacuation of the hostages in the process.

Starfleet and the UEDA had apparently changed their tune after she had made contact but by that point it didn’t seem to make much of a difference. The firewalls she faced were hackable but there were simply too many of them to get through in the time she had available.

And then there was that feeling in the back of her mind that something was very wrong.

Many people claimed to have a sixth sense but for Mech this was literally true. She possessed the ability to pick up sounds and vibrations outside of the perceivable spectrum for average humans. It was an ability she had made sure to refine since her episode in Nepal in which she had been nearly blown to pieces by a not-so errant torpedo attack.

She felt the presence of something approaching while she tried desperately to crack another firewall. < Even with Starfleet’s help you’re not going to have enough time. I’m going to try and get you some more by hacking into the bomb. Chief, tell Bobbie to make sure the switch is in place in case I need it. >

The doubt in Masamune’s voice were unmistakable. < You’ve never been able to test it. As far as I’m concerned the whole thing is still mostly theoretical. >
< No time to argue. I’m going to try and – >
The thing, whatever it was, fired and Mech jumped.

It wasn’t quite fast enough.

It took Mech a moment to realize that she had been hit. Not because of any immediate pain but because her interface to the computer she had been connected to just seconds before was now suddenly gone and so was her comm link with Masamune.

She was lying on the cold hard floor and could tell by her ripped and ruined red dress that she had not been struck by a conventional weapon.

Then she heard it move again and the familiar sound made her realize that she knew exactly what she was up against. It took her a moment to be able to get a visual however. While she had clearly not taken a direct hit, it had nevertheless been powerful enough to severely damage her body and she suddenly found it very difficult to get her arms and legs to carry out the most basic functions.

She was fully cognizant that if she couldn’t re-establish control over her own body within the next few seconds, she’d be done for, unable to survive another hit.

Pure willpower got her back onto her knees and out of the corner of her eye she could see the dark green, bubble shaped AI tank closing in on her, its weapons ports already glowing angrily as it was getting ready to unleash another deadly salvo.

She focused all her thoughts onto one single action. Move.

The tank fired.

And Mech leaped.

She could feel the air all around her turn boiling hot as the unleashed plasma evaporated part of the floor she had occupied just moments ago.

She didn’t have her normal speed and certainly not her usual strength that much seemed certain as she sprinted across the sub-basement, keeping herself roughly perpendicular to the attacking tank.

Outrunning the thing was out of her question in her current condition and even if she succeeded, she’d never clear the building before the bombs went off. She had less than a minute, perhaps ninety seconds to finish off the tank and attempt once more to defuse the bombs. Her chances to achieve that, she had to admit, were negligible but she didn’t let the odds change her course of action. The stakes were too high.

The tank continued to fire, ripping apart support columns, storage crates and anything else that found itself the path of its main gun.

Mech’s plan came to her just as she cornered another pillar which was turned into rubble not a second after she had passed it.

It wasn’t the best plan she’d ever thought off but considering the time restraints, it was better than nothing.

Coming past another beam, she reached out and ripped the bomb that had been attached to it right off its fixture without so much as slowing down. One look at the now throbbing, two-gallon device in her hands confirmed her theory. The thing had been programmed to activate if somebody tempered with it manually.

The high pitched whine was making it unmistakably clear that it would rip itself and anything in the immediate surroundings to shreds momentarily.

Mech made a sharp turn and instead of trying to keep her distance to the AI tank trying to disintegrate her, she headed right towards it. Had she been one-hundred percent she’d easily been able to leap off her feet and land right on top of it. In her current state however she was doubtful she’d make the distance.

So instead she was left playing a deadly game of chicken with the tank, running straight at it and practically looking right down the shimmering blue gun port pointed at her head.

It fired and she went down.

She was pretty sure her hair had caught fire as she rolled underneath the ultra-hot plasma bolt which otherwise appeared to have missed her.

Mech came back up on her feet and found herself just a few meters from the tank which continued to approach her as if it meant to simply roll her over. Too close for another evasive dive but close enough to dare a precise jump.

With what remained of her quickly fading strength, she bent her knees and went vertical, sailing towards her target.

She realized that she had mistimed her assault while she was still mid-air. The bomb in her hand was going to go off any second.

No choice but to follow through now.

She landed dead on target and instantly dropped onto one knee, wedged the bomb harshly between the gun port and the tank’s chassis and then got back up to push herself off and get as far away from the tank as she possibly could.

The bomb detonated before she had cleared as much as three meters.

She shockwave of the explosion cleanly swept her off her feet and back into the air but this time into an uncontrolled tumble. Mech had never been a stranger to pain but what she experienced as she was engulfed in the massive explosion was beyond anything she had ever endured. She could feel her skin melting away even while her mind refused to release her from consciousness.

She screamed in agony and desperation, literally on fire she didn’t feel the impact which would have shattered every single bone in a human body.

Mech desperately tried to focus on a truism which had served her well over the years. Pain is an illusion. In her case this was true more so than with the many people who liked to tell themselves the exact same thing in order to pretend that they could conquer any amount of pain they were exposed to.

Intellectually she completely understood that it was all in her head. Her brain was the only part of her body which was able to interpret the signals which told her that her body was long passed the threshold of being able to function.

This knowledge didn’t make it any easier to bear.

< Mech. >

Lying on the cold floor in a burned and broken husk of a body, certain beyond a shadow of doubt that she was seconds from certain death, she didn’t immediately fathom the voice calling out for her.

< Mech, I need you to focus. >

She tried to respond but it seemed impossible to do anything but lie there in agonizing pain and await the inevitable outcome which would release her form this torment.

< I know you are hurt and that it seems like this is the end but I need you to believe that you can make it. Do you understand? You have to believe you can pull through this? >

< Mother, > Mech thought she heard herself say. At this point she couldn’t be sure of anything. Not the voice in her head, not even the air she was apparently still breathing. < How …? >

< It doesn’t matter how, > she responded. < All that matters is that you believe. That you refuse to give up. You hear me. Do not. Give up. >

The groan coming over what had once been her lips was a clear sign of life. But it was weak. It was the death rattle of a person resigned to die.

< This doesn’t end here, Mech. Not for you. You still have much to do and many who count on you. Including the very men and women still in this building. >

Mother’s voice wasn’t desperate or even demanding or urgent. Instead she spoke in her usual soft and soothing voice. As if all this was already a forgone conclusion. As if she had total faith in Mech’s abilities to overcome her current and terminal state. < Do you believe that? Tell me that you believe. >

It would have been much easier and probably much less painful to dismiss her completely and to simply wait for a few more seconds until the inevitable would come to pass and all the agony would be lifted from her tortured body and mind.

But Mech had never been a quitter and she decided that this was going to be a lousy time to start.

< I … believe. >

And then darkness claimed her.


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