Bonded By Blood
The elevator ascending to the hangar shackles against the weight of soldiers, mechanics, sergeants and pilots. Whispers of prayers, murmurs of good luck, and the wailing of alarms accompany the eerie journey upward. I see my reflection in my helmet, expecting a teenage girl with wavy pink hair, brown eyes and rough pale skin glittered with soft freckles. But rather, I see an unfamiliar face, of wrinkles and fatigue, staring deep into my soul. I lift my head in a sigh, cringing at the pungent sweat smell of the crowd. War has changed me. Changed every person in the last human colony. A subterranean structure hollowed on the planet Cerberus. Home for 2,018 refugees, harbouring the last fleeting thread of humanity in the universe. I fit my helmet on. The visor rouses with orange lights, illuminating displays. A voice churns and speaks in my ear.
"Apollo, Combat Artificial Intelligence online"
"Morning tin-can" I tease. The helmet clicks, processing the humour.
"Good Morning master Kira Uhrata." Apollo answers
The elevator shrieks to a stop. The metallic doors swing out, the crowd merging into the chaos, leaving the solitary quietness behind.
"What's our situation," I ask, dashing through, shielding myself from falling debris and sparks as I make my way across a huge runway.
"We are being attacked by a Dreadnought battlecruiser. Casualties are rising, and maximum threat protocol has been altered."
They called it the "Wolf" generations ago. When humans developed technology that integrated humans and AI together, making us stronger, smarter, more elitist. Filling a hole we never thought we needed. Nevertheless, the procedure... was problematic. The unity was savagely horrific, and the AI's maniac consciousness decided that human emotion was... redundant. Humans called the demonic procedure, 'Blood Bonding. AI purged the world, hellbent on infecting humans. They seized this immense battlecruiser. Crafted by human labour, controlled by machines. And now with the "Wolf", they have hunted humanity to the edges of the galaxy. Whether we run and hide, like years before, or stand and fight today, rests heavily on our shoulders. I shiver. The bellowing of munition shakes the sky, as shouts echo across the hangar. A spark in everyone's movements of a craving vengeance. The hangar quivers as explosions rain outside.
"I need to get out there" I demand, rounding a corner.
"Your suit is ready, master Uhrata" Apollo states.
Before me, towers a 15-metre mecha. Moulded of titanium and carbon-fibre. An aerial combat suit with angelic white wings. A weaponized huntsman, visor icy-sharper, and agility unmatched by its counterparts. I latch my arm around a bar and thrust myself into the suit's cockpit. Plates interlock behind me, confining me to the bitterly-cold interior. I position my hands through cyclical compartments, grasping control sticks. I flick the controls forward, powering the mech with interfaces. A projected gold trickle of code swerves down through the cracks of the cockpit, reaching the centre, igniting a bright yellow core. The mech jolts, fuel empowering it with life, it's visor cracking awake.
"All systems operational, initiating launch procedure"
Wires detach off the mecha. The engine roars tremendously, wings extending, as I propel through the agape roof. Suddenly, ferocious rain hits the visor, the mech rattling and wrestling against the whipping winds. The planet's vast green and black savanna stretch before me. The surface scarred with crevasses and deep fissures. The sky illuminated by the drumming of machine guns, the clashing of mechas. Our resistance zooms low to the arid land, against the enemy's crimson mechas above. Lightning strikes, enlightening the visibility amidst the clouds. And there, lurking above, is the shape of the dreadnaught "Wolf". A gigantic triangular behemoth, with 4 massive engines, and a surface of metallic spires and serrated curves. It's weaponised fire-power consuming the battlefield beneath it. I flick my controls forward, breaking the sound barrier in my wake. I trail beneath a low bearing cliff, circling up into the fray, lighting up the sky in front of me. I burn smouldering holes through an enemy mecha. I tilt in a tailslide formation, out-maneuvering a hounding adversary. I nose-dive, suddenly pinned by more swarming mechas. I drastically bank sideways, engulfed in bullets and rain. There's too many of them.
"Apollo, we need options now, we can't hold out for much longer!" A cascade of bullets punctures my suit. I'm thrown to the side, yanking the controls in retreat. My visor's shattered alarms shrieking as I narrowly whip along the ground.
"KirA. We aRe rUnNIng oUt of-f-f tIme" Apollo stutters from the impact. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the hulking shadow of the dreadnaught lurking closer, it's brutal battalion accompanying its descent. Their strength is unmatchable. Unhuman. I can't evade for much longer. Blood trickles down my exhausted limbs. My head throbs like thunder from the stifling smell of leaking oil and gas. This whole ordeal has been a game of dice. We've rolled crazily lucky against fate for the past despairing years. But now, it seems we're finally out of luck. But we can't lose. So I play my cards. Resolving to myself, that if you can't beat the odds, I might as well change the game.
"Apollo, do you respond" I flex my fingers around the controls.
"I aM hEre" he jolts.
"Initiate Blood Bonding protocol" I utter, twisting towards the incoming fleet.
A pause.
"But-t-t KiRa. ProBabiLity of sUrviviNg is uNlikely. ThEre hAs-s-s to bE anOth---"
"There is no other way!" I wrestle against the controls, aiming the guns to the "Wolf".
The AI falls dead silent. He's confronted an obstacle that directly oppresses his programming of keeping humanity alive. Yet the fierceness in my voice seems to persuade him.
"Prepare yourself, Kira" Apollo declares.
A click sounds from behind, and two sharp pincers fluidly jab into my neck. I convulse frantically, the spikes penetrating bone. An unpleasant spine coldness spreads in my body. A metallic virus polluting my veins.
Fear of losing control plagues my mind. What if it drives me insane, like the crew of the "Wolf". I will not let it. Not after so many mourners, coffins, promises.
My skin ignites in pain as if it's being burned by acid. I gasp for breath, but I only suffocate, the contagious fluid spreading to my lungs, my body radiating in brutal agony. I shut my eyes, crumbling to unconsciousness. It feels like I'm falling infinitely until I sense light in the darkness. A core of blazing luminescence. I reach out. Humankind will run no longer, as I fly into the deep abyss of space...
