SG: Aurora #45 - Above and Beyond (Part Four of Nine)

[Frobozz]

CONTINUED FROM PART THREE

    A flashing display drew Clarisse's attention. She was too deeply into
her work to process what it meant at first, but fortunately her
subconcious was more alert than she. As the full import of the signal
penetrated, Clarisse felt a thrill of excitement. The news was important
enough to even make her forget to be nervous around their glorious
leader.
    "We've got it!" she yelled out, whirling around in her chair fast
enough to bark her shin against a leg of the control panel. She stifled
a little cry of pain and containued her report, blinking away tears of
pain. "Ow--I mean we've almost got it! I mean..."
    "What do you mean?" asked their leader, glancing her way. She had
been in the midst of receiving reports that level 444 had been turned
into a charnel pit and wasn't in the right mood to be distracted.
    "I mean... sorry, sir," Clarisse muttered as abrputly she remembered
to be nervous again. "We've almost broken through the defensive systems
around the shield control."
    "Good," replied the leader, just a trifle curtly. "Keep watching and
let me know when we have full access."
    "Yes... yes, of course," replied Clarisse, turning red as she
returned to working on the shield controls and tried not to think of how
she'd just made a fool of herself. Still, at least there were going to
be -two- victories in this war that could be traced directly to her
efforts. That would just have to be enough to make up for all the
humiliation that she'd inflicted upon herself.
    "What's our troop compliment at present?" their leader asked, as she
turned to one of her technicians. The man checked his readouts and shook
his head.
    "The ones on four-four-four are pinned... they'd have to make their
way to the far elevators and right now, -no- one wants to move past
Gladiator."
    "A very understandable sentiment."
    "The ones fighting below us are pinned in battle. Currently things
are a bit dicey there. And our scattered guards are moving to reinforce
our position, but... "
    "Yes?"
    "The blown elevators are reducing who we can move where. They're
still going to be a bit getting here. The Beanstalk is a -big- place,
sir."
    She nodded and shrugged lightly. "I'd really like to have those
guards here, but for the moment we just have to be philosophical about
the situation. And..." She smiled faintly, taking in her technicians.
"If we're threatened, don't worry. I shall protect you until help
arrives."

***

    Clark sailed through the air with the greatest of ease. It would be
the landing that would prove a mite bit more difficult. He crashed to
the ground in a clatter of protesting servos and over-stressed metal,
groaning as his entire body felt as if it was on fire. His battered
armour tried to run a diagnostic on his well-being but failed after a
moment, needing the diagnostics more than he did.
    Though dazed, Clark tried to lever himself back up and just barely
succeeded in doing so, though the effort cost him plenty. Ignoring the
pain, he tried to take in the rapidly shifting tactical situation,
hoping to see something he could use to turn the tide.
    In terms of tactical assets on the opposing side, there was one
demonic superhuman tearing through his soldiers at a rate of one every
few minutes -- and he was moving that slowly only because he seemed to
savour each death. On his side, they had limited conventional weapons,
limited useful cover and absolutely no backup coming. Not for the first
time, Clark wished that he could call a mulligan on a battle and ask for
a do-over.
    "DeVrai," he croacked through the commo. "Please tell me you've got
an idea of how we pull our bacon out of this one."
    "He doesn't even seem to be noticing our weapons fire. Our missiles
make him stop for a second, but that just looks like it's annoying him
more than anything else. I'm not sure we -have- anything else to try on
him. This guy doesn't seem to have any weak spots..."
    "Maybe we could throw around some insults. Could be he's got poor
self-esteem..." Clark replied, though he wasn't feeling the humour. Too
many people he knew and cared about were being hurt and killed, and
Clark -- who was sitting in the command seat for this one -- couldn't do
a thing to stop it. "I wish we had -some- rabbit that we could pull out
of our hat. Some gadget, some trick... maybe we could trap him..."
    "In -what-?" DeVrai demanded, the stress of the situation causing him
to raise his voice. "I'm not sure we could stop him even if we buried
him under... oh... no."
    "What is it? DeVrai? What's happening?"
    "Good luck, Clark. He's seen me."
    "Oh God no," whispered Clark, turning to sight on Gladiator. He
raised his rifle and pulled the trigger, remembering only too late that
it was empty. There was nothing he could do to stop the demon advancing
upon his friend...
    And then there came another shattering sound from above. Clark looked
up in shock, terrified that there would be -two- of these creatures to
fight. One was unstoppable enough. With two, they might as well all
politely slit their wrists and lie down to wait for death.
    But on second glance, the figure who burst from the ceiling bore
little resemblance to Gladiator. In fact, he looked naggingly familiar
to Clark...
    The newcomer dropped into the arena in which Aurora and Boreallis had
so recently fought, then caught himself mid-air to hover. Taking a fast
look round to orient himself, he looked surprised and then shocked at
the carnage which had been commited here. Bellowing in anger, he leapt
at Gladiator, knocking the demon away from DeVrai just as the creature
was about to rend the man limb from limb. Gladiator found himself caught
utterly by surprise as he was knocked backwards into a wall, reeling at
the realisation that someone had just used enough force to make him feel
pain.
    "I... think I just got a stay of execution, Clark," said DeVrai over
the net, in a none-too-steady voice. "And I'm not sure how it happened.
But I sure don't feel dead."
    "I... think I do," replied Clark, as he focused his sensors on the
newly arrived combatant. "He's clearly on our side and we didn't bring
any superhumans in with us, so my best guess? Someone got to Colleen's
lab and used that power enhancement thingamabob she cooked up when we
got invaded by the Tee vee dimension."
    "Oh right... the one you used?"
    "Yeah."
    "The time you just plowed right into the ground and knocked yourself
silly?"
    "DeVrai..."
    "This guy sure has better control than you did. I thought maybe it
just took time to learn how to handle those powers, but I guess you just
really sucked--"
    "De*VRAI*!"
    "Hmm... yes?"
    "I recognize him," said Clark, anxious to change the topic. He
watched the newcomer and Gladiator square off, drawing attention away
from Aurora's troopers and buying them a reprieve. "Elvis-damn it,
that's Vedding! The crazy nut used Colleen's machine!"
    He then winced as Gladiator managed to catch Vedding's ankle and hurl
him into a wall. The ex-trooper looked shaken but not hurt, and shook
himself off as he rose to charge back into battle.
    "I just hope to Hell(tm) that it's enough," finished Clark as
Gladiator slammed a double hammerblow into Vedding's face, sending him
flying again. "And I'm just not sure that it's going to be."
    "Yeah. Retreat?"
    "Yes. Immediate. We've done all we can here. Our job's to save
lives."
    I just hope Vedding doesn't lose his, thought Clark as he began to
organize his men. Maybe I was wrong about the guy. I sure don't want him
to kick the bucket before I have a chance to say that to him.

***

    "Done," whispered Clarisse as she finished coordinating her efforts
with Colleen, who had worked feverishly to help connecte the two
Beanstalks. She remembered a moment later that she probably couldn't be
heard over the constant tac chatter in the control room and raised her
voice to repeat herself. "Done. Sir, it's done. We have control of the
gateway."
    "Understood," replied her leader, looking up from her analysis of the
current strategic situation. "Open it and send a message through."
    "What's the message... ma'am?"
    "Message is: 'Begin general incursion. Alpha personnel first. Come
through cold but prepared to go hot at a moment's notice'."
    "Aye sir... preparing to open the doorway."
    "Good," replied their leader, tapping her fingers against a console.
"If anyone can put an end to this farce, it'll be our superhumans. Let
me know the second we have a reply and especially the moment we can
lower the damned shield. We have a battle to finish. And," she continued
thoughtfully. "A war to begin."

***

    Gladiator roared in anger at his opponent, throwing up an arm to
block the next punch, but even blocked the blow still hurt. This was a
surprise to the demon-spawn, who had not expected to encounter an
empowered being in this all too tall tower and who was somewhat
delighted to have someone to fight who could accept more than one attack
before dying. But this pleasure was diminished by the mortal's moral
character; Gladiator could feel that he had sinned an immense blot unto
his soul... but had since that time repented his sin. That
reconciliation was like a dagger to Gladiator's heart each and every
time demon and mortal grappled. He could not take this mortal lightly,
as even a slight mistake could inflict damage from which he would never
heal.
    The fallen demon rose to his feet again and glanced warily up at his
opponent, the recovered lamb. The mortal grinned despite the danger and
tensed to receive the next attack. Gladiator returned the grin as the
two suddenly hurled themselves at one another, as a plan sprang to mind.
The mortal had repented, but he clearly relished this combat. Relish
could be stoked into pride, and pride could be made to cover up the
hateful sword the man held in his soul...
    The two slammed together, sending out shockwaves that shook the
Beanstalk for levels in either direction. Troopers were knocked from
their feet as shock-waves bowled them to and fro. Gladiator's mind
reeled as he tasted pain on a level that he'd not experienced for ages.
The man's repentance stabbed through him, racing down his spine and
setting his senses afire, causing a pain far worse than anything he had
felt from the mutual collision.
    The mortal recovered his wits first and surged forward, flinging out
his leg at Gladiator's head. The demon blocked, but even the block
flooded him with a pain that had grown all too familiar.
    Gladiator fell to his knees, bent but not broken. His nerves were on
fire and he felt wracked by nausea. The ancient infernal knew that if he
didn't do something to quickly turn the tide, this son of mortal sin
would cast Gladiator back to the pits in disgrace.
    That would not do. That simply would not do. No mortal worm hewn of
dust would defeat the Gladiator who had risen through the ranks of
Hell(tm) by his strength and skill alone. This he swore by the flames
that had birthed him. This would -not- be the end.
    His eyes narrowed as he regarded Vedding. The two crashed together
again, slamming into the nearest wall with the force of locomotives in
love. The Beanstalk shook again, and this time the lights went dead for
a moment before power restored itself.

***

    Clarisse's eyes widened as an alert popped up on her screen. She
leaned forward, trying to figure out exactly what had happened. To her
surprise she realised that the shield surrounding the Beanstalk was
starting to flicker of its own accord. Something was happening on level
444... something that had caused the barrier to focus on a single spot
to contain a great release of force. While the shield was a powerful
device, far stronger than it had any right to be, it wasn't designed to
contain such power from the inside, and that blow had started it
oscillating.
    Interesting, she thought. It might be dangerous to lower the shield
right now... but in a few moments, when the barrier had cycled, it
should be safe to bring it down.
    For the moment, though, she would analyze the data that this
unexpected eventuality had provided. You never knew when information
could come in handy...

***

    "Good God," muttered DeVrai, as he looked up from dragging another
wounded trooper as far as possible from the titanic battle raging about
them. Clark glanced up and nodded, then returned to the task of applying
emergency aid to a soldier who had just barely escaped being killed by
the demon. By luck or by some perverse design, the demon's knife-hand
blow had missed striking any vital organs and left the man just this
side of alive. Metal shards had pierced the trooper's skin where his
armour had been breached, and he was hemmorhaging at a tremendous rate.
Clark wished that he had better tools to work with, but needs must when
the devil drove... quite literally in this case.
    "How's he doing..." muttered Clark, unable to spare another glance
away from his patient.
    "He's kicking ass, Clark. After seeing that guy in battle, I didn't
think anyone had a prayer against him; but Vedding... he's just kicking
ass."
    "I could've done that," replied Clark absently, as he applied another
pressure dressing to both wound and armour, taping it on to stop the
blood. "But I didn't want to."
    "Would that be before or after you destroyed the rest of the
Beanstalk crashing around trying to get your hands on him?"
    "Shut. It. Don't you have anyone else to drag here?"
    "Nope. That's everyone."
    "Then get some medical supplies and start dressing wounds. You can
start with the great big gaping hole just under your nose. Nothing
pleasant ever seems to come out of it."
    DeVrai smirked but quickly sobered, turning to the task ahead of him.
He fell quickly to work, trying to save as many of his men from death as
possible. DeVrai hoped to the gods that Vedding managed to pull off a
win; if he lost, then all the first aid in the world wouldn't save a
single life. For all their skill, armaments and bravery, there was
precious little that they could do against something with that much
strength.
    It was all in Vedding's hands now.

***

    The son of sin was strong, Gladiator freely admitted. But it was his
heart that could bring his infernal opponent to his knees, and the demon
felt driven halfway there already. The heart would have to be
neutralized and quickly, so that this battle would be brought to an end.
    There were ways to destroy the hearts of the repentant. There were
ways to make those hearts fill with sustaining pride and a beautiful,
joyous hate that would protect the demon from that which he feared most.
Oh yes, this child of sin might think that he had won, but Gladiator had
not lived a warrior's life for years untold to be brought low by
-accident-. If he could threaten the life of one whom his opponent held
dear, Gladiator would have already taken the first step towards his
victory. And then, when that life was taken, his adversary would drown
himself in a hate which would buffer the demon from his repentance and--
    Gladiator had lived many years and fought more opponents than he
could count. He had learned many a trick in his life and could be
considered to be one of the most deadly opponents one could hope not to
meet in all the worlds. However, there were certain holes in his
experience and though these gaps rarely caused him grief, today he
encountered one that was not so easily excused: Gladiator had rarely
fought against someone who possessed more than a modicum of super-speed.
He had fought against and defeated many who could react with
preternatural swiftness, but rarely had he encoutered anyone who could
-think- faster than a human should.
    By dint of Colleen's machine, for a limited span, Vedding could. By
dint of that gap in Gladiator's knowledge, the demon planned when he
should have been grabbing hostages.
    Which is why he was so completely taken by surprise at being smashed
through the Beanstalk's wall at a speed roughly approaching Mach six.
The Beanstalk's shield flickered once more at the tremendous impact,
rendering it permeable just long enough for the baffled demon to pass
through it, followed by his flying adversary.
    Flight, thought Gladiator sourly as he plummetted towards the ground.
Wouldn't -that- be nice to have right about now?

***

    "Shield... shield's down!" cried Clarisse, staring at her readouts in
surprise. Many heads turned towards her, though for once she didn't feel
embarassed at the attention. "Power levels spiking. I..."
    The shield suddenly reasserted herself. Clarisse, sadly, couldn't
follow suit. She flushed deeply and sank into her chair.
    "Never mind," she muttered. But there was one place where she could
save face. "Dimensional bridge is forming... formed. Confirmation
received from other side. Anticipate crossover..." She glanced at
another readout and nodded. "...now."

***

    Somewhere in that nothingness space between the altiverses
000SUPERGUY and its sister 001SUPERGUY, a bridge formed out of the very
stuff of creation: superstrings, absurdions, exotic matter and highly
processed spam luncheon meat. If the human mind could truly understand
made up the spaces between the Altiverses they would claw their own eyes
out before even considering crossing the gulf between them. But since
the human mind was unable to encompass the horrific truth about
interspatial transit (not to mention the list of ingredients on just a
single can of spam), the troops from 001 who had waited so long for a
gateway seized their chance leap from one world to another. Many
warriors advanced across the rift, forming an army made up of both those
blessed with great powers and those who had none but what their armours
gave to them.
    They -would- make the other world understand. They had the might to
rock it to its core and force it to listen to the truth that they all
knew. They were coming; and if stealth and guile failed...
    They would be there to ensure that might did not.
    The time to take 000SUPERGUY was now.

***

CONTINUED IN PART FIVE

---
-Chris
frobozz at eyrie.org
http://www.eyrie.org/~frobozz

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