began.
a white place, out of time.
“Incoming beacon.”
“Read it.”
“It’s encrypted for Commander Kilbourne.”
“Who sent it?”
“Mujahadin Malachi.”
“Patch it through to her immediately.”
It began.
Applause over the helmet speakers.
“I dub thee Anubis.”
From her position on the open docking ring of the Judas Lazarus II, Judas Commander Hannah Kilbourne tossed the bottle of champagne at the gunship below her.
End over end over end. Impact.
More applause.
“And with that, comrades, the newest class of Judas is ready for operation.”
Kilbourne looked around at the spectators. Hundreds? Thousands? The number changed daily. Hourly. Especially within this last engagement. So many had perished at the hands of the damned. So many sacrifices…
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present the Mujahadin.”
Roars of applause. Cheering.
Mujahadin. Soldiers of god.
The final hope.
It slept but did not sleep.
It was aware of the incoming projectile. It judged that it was harmless and let the champagne bottle shatter against the top surface of its port weapons nacelle.
So now it was a Judas.
With all of its mechanical intellect it sensed the urgency of the mission, the vast importance of success.
It did not fear.
It was not programmed to fear.
As only a machine can, it smiled inwardly.
Almost time…
“Commander Kilbourne? Priority message from Mujahadin Malachi.”
She had been admiring the new fleet but quickly boarded the vessel upon hearing this.
She pulled off her helmet. “Patch it through.” She placed her hand on the security scanner and waited as the machine withdrew a miniscule blood sample, tested it, coded her DNA and interpreted her pattern, identified her, and decrypted the message.
She read the message.
PREDATOR BECOMES PREY. PREY BECOMES PREDATOR.
Good. That problem had been eliminated.
No one would know. No one.
Events were being set into motion. Preparations were almost complete.
It was time.
black
from within the impossibility of hope and reason, a countless number of raging voices appeared, a tide of the wails of the damned. the voices rose and fell, but each contributed to the atmosphere of ((panic despair hate)) within the blackness.
THEY THEY CAN’T DO THAT THEY CAN’T—
THE PURPOSE IS LOST THE PURPOSE IS DEFEATED—
THEY WILL PAY FOR THIS THE PURPOSE WILL OVERCOME THEM—
and over all, a calm voice resonated.
SILENCE. THE PURPOSE WILL BE COMPLETED.
BUT—
SILENCE. SUBMIT OR CEASE.
I OBEY. WE OBEY.
THE VERMIN SEE NOT VICTORY, BUT ARE BLINDED BY FALSE HOPE. ONE WEB WAS LOST. IS ONE WEB THE TURNPOINT OF THE PURPOSE((?)) I THINK NOT.
BUT OUR FORCES—
—WERE DESTROYED IN THAT WHEN. SOULS WERE LOST. DOES THAT DEFEAT THE ENTIRE PURPOSE((?)) HAVE THE VERMIN NOT TAKEN MANY OF US BEFORE((?)) THEY HAVE STOLEN ONLY FRAGMENTS OF THE PATTERN. OMEGA’S GLORY STRETCHES FURTHER THAN THE CONTAGION CAN EVER BEGIN TO REALIZE.
…
THEY THINK WE ARE WEAK. ARE WE((?))
…
ARE WE((?))
NO.
AND IF THEY SEE US AS WEAKLINGS, IT IS THEY WHO ARE AT A DISADVANTAGE.
YES.
THEY ASSUME WE FEAR THEM.
…
WE DO NOT FEAR. THE JUDAS ARE A VIRUS. A CONTAGION. AN EPIDEMIC. THEY WILL BE ELIMINATED. THEY WILL BE PURGED FROM THE END PATTERN.
realization.
DO YOU SO SOON FORGET THE LAST ENGAGEMENT((?))
THE AMBUSH. A RUSE. A TRAP. VICTORY.
YES.
insight.
WE SHALL STRIKE FIRST.
WE SHALL STRIKE FIRST.
the black closes
The interface gauntlets slid from her hands.
A mesh of wires released her body from its brutally silken embrace. Her thin form sat alone in the battle chamber of the Judas Mara.
Sapphire.
She let the waves of exhaustion sweep through her, and she shuddered with the emotion of the battle. She began to shake, and she wept.
In the chamber, she seemed to float in a dizzying field of debris, remnants of the last wave of the Enemy horde. She reached out, as if she could touch one of the shards. The spherical battle chamber holoprojector was far from top-of-the-line, but it was still unsettlingly realistic.
Forehead on her knees, she embraced herself in the blackness and sobbed silent tears.
(sapphire?)
She wiped away the tears. A voice in her mind. Mara.
“What is it?” Her voice was harsh. Choked.
(sensors detect an incoming vessel.)
“Another wave already?” Such pain in her voice.
(no. it’s a judas. gethsemane jacob.)
Silence.
(sapphire?)
