Steampunk Novella

[Raistlin1040]

I was cleaning out old documents from my computer, and I found this small prologue to a novella I'd intended to write a little over two years ago. I actually started it here, in Arts and Crafts, and although I'm probably going to rewrite the prologue, I thought I'd post it here and gauge interest to see if it's something that GitP would be interested in (I know how much you all love your steampunk). I found multiple versions of the prologue, under various titles (Man Or Machine, A Heart Of Bronze), but here is the most complete version.

It was a large room, pristine and elegant. The walls were adorned with various ornate clocks, keeping track of time to the nanosecond. In the center of the room was a shiny bronze table and seated at the head of the table was Ulrich Falken, the Chief of Engineers. Clustered around the table were a group of generals, advisors, and politicians who waited with baited breath for the arrival of someone they hadn’t met. Falken seemed content to sit in his chair and dismantle his cane, an astounding piece of technology that contained a hidden wand that could stop a man’s heart with a jolt of electricity.

“Is he coming?” It was a pointed question, nearly an accusation, and the Chief of Engineers would not tolerate such insolence. He turned to the aide who had spoken abruptly. The man paled in opposition to Falken’s gaze. “My apologies, sir, I just-” Falken snapped his cane back into position and then brought it down on the table with force.

“I understand your concern, Mr. Harbour, but I can assure you that your newest coworker will make his appearance soon.” As if to illustrate his point, he gestured towards the door, which opened slowly as a darkened figure slid into the room. He walked slowly over to the table until he stood behind the Chief of Engineers. The corners of Falken’s mouth twitched upwards into a halfway smile. “Gentlemen, I present my newest…” He paused, trying to think of a proper title. “Well, my newest retainer, at any rate.”

The figure behind the chair was bundled up in a way that set the council on edge. His face was obscured by a helmet and a mask decorated like a skull. His torso was covered by a thick military jacket and dark gloves that extended up his forearms. Something about him seemed tense, almost animalistic, and even the most battle-hardened generals were wary of this man they’d never seen.

“Here, take my seat.” A meek little man that sat next to Falken said as he stood. The helmeted figure sat without a word as the man scampered to the other end of the table. Falken smirked, obviously enjoying the discomfort the newest arrival had caused the council.

“Now that we’ve all arrived, I’d like to begin the discussion by addressing something we’re all aware of. The rebels that want to bring us down, those that want to throw a wrench into the gears of our glorious Machine, have begun taking action. They are making preparations to attack me at tomorrow’s ceremony. Generals, what precautions do you think should be taken to ensure they fail?” A slender man in a distinguished red military uniform stood up.

“With all due respect, sir, we have nothing to fear from the rebels. After their last failed insurrection, I think we can safely ignore them as a threat.” Falken’s smirk twitched down into a disapproving frown.

“Come on, Commander Black. Nothing to fear? I am disappointed in you. Our decisions are not made without opposition, and those terrorists that seek to harm our state will not rest after a failed attack.” Commander Black shook his head.

“Sir, it is my professional opinion that our fortresses are impenetrable. All necessary precautions have already been taken to ensure the safety of all of us. Why, we could be swarmed by dozens of the rebels right now and we would be in no danger at all.” Falken began to chuckle to himself.

“No danger? I’m afraid I cannot agree with your opinion, Black, no matter how professional it is. Other opinions?” Another man began to speak but was silenced by a glare from Commander Black.

“I will not be silenced!” It was an outburst, something not tolerated by the Chief of Engineers. His jaw clenched and he turned back to Commander Black.

“I will not be addressed in such a tone, you insignificant wretch.” Realizing the gravity of his mistake, Commander Black began to protest.

“Sir, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking clearly and I-” Falken raised a hand, stopping him.

“Dis?” The helmeted figure sitting next to Falken stood and began to walk menacingly towards Commander Black. Black appeared confused at first, and then began backing away slowly. The figure took his left forearm in his right hand and squeezed. With the twin noises of grinding gears and a blade scraping metal, the man’s left glove and the lower half of his sleeve were torn apart as a bronze blade appeared.

The council gasped. Instead of flesh, the man’s left arm was bronze. A pressure gauge was inlaid into the metal and steam was emitting steadily from the joints. Commander Black yelped and started to run, fearing for his life. Dis, as the figure was called, caught up with him in a few long strides and grabbed him violently with his hand, shoving him against a wall.

The commander struggled, trying to break free, and in his flailing, he knocked off the helmet, revealing the upper half of man’s face. Shoulder length brown hair fell free and intense gray eyes locked onto the commander’s face. Black’s eyes widened.

“You…” He gasped as he redoubled his efforts to escape. A second later, Dis swung the blade attached to his metal arm and slashed the throat of the commander, who dropped to the floor as soon as Dis released him. Dis squeezed his bronze arm again, emitting more steam as the blade withdrew and a bronze hand appeared in its place.

“Well done, Dis, well done.” Falken commended. “If you would just take your seat again, we could continue the discussion.” Dis shook his head as he bent down and picked up his helmet, keeping his face hidden from the assembly.

“I tire of your company already, Falken.” Dis spat as he placed the helmet back over his face. Another gasp escaped the council. To their surprise, Falken shrugged.

“As you wish, my friend.”

“I am no friend of yours.” Dis replied coldly. “I will be in the War Room if you need me for anything else.” The Chief of Engineers nodded.

“Of course.” Dis turned and walked away. Rather than go to the War Room as he’d said, however, he walked up the stairs and out on the balcony overlooking The Machine. Tall buildings with tarnished steel loomed over the streets which were paved with broken cobblestones and rainwater mixed with mud. Thick jets of steam were expelled by black chimneys and hung over the city forebodingly. Dis shook his head and looked away.

“This city is broken.” He muttered to himself as he stepped back inside.

I may rewrite that prologue again, but regardless, if there is sufficient interest, I'll be picking this novella up again and possibly adding in some audience participation/voting/whathaveyou as was the original intention two years ago. Let me know what you think.

[Raistlin1040]

Chapter 1The wheezy old folk singer sat in a corner of the tavern, cigarette smoke on his clothes and a walking stick at his side. He was mumbling something to the barkeep, an imposing man with one brass eye that glowed faintly red in the dim lighting. Being the inquisitive young guttersnipe that I was, and having nothing else of interest or importance to do, I wandered over and took a seat next to the old man. I glanced up to the barkeep and flashed a quick smile.

“I’ll take another of whatever he’s having. And a boiler room special.” I pulled a handful of dirty coins from the pocket of my ratted pants and tossed them on the counter without bothering to count it out. The barkeep glanced down at the change, scooping it up into his hands and then fixing me with a peculiar, curious expression. He seemed like he was going to ask a question, but then thought better of it and walked down the other end of the bar. I smirked. People don’t ask questions much here. Too many questions and you might end up dead. Of course, knowing that didn’t do much to stop me from turning in the direction of the old singer.

“That’s kind of you to buy me a drink.” He said without any feeling of warmth or gratitude in his voice. “And a boiler room special ain’t cheap, not for a kid. Especially not one dressed like you.” He eyed my tattered cloak and ripped pants. I shrugged and gave him a cheeky grin.

“Let’s just say I have a way of coming into wealth.” I lifted my head and looked back at the bartender. The old man apparently just had a few shots of whiskey mixed in with some fruit juice. Unadventurous. The boiler room special, though expensive, was far more exciting, both to watch and to drink. The old man got his drink before the barkeep turned around and produced a key, opening a door that was almost hidden unless one sat at the barstool.

Behind the small door was a valve connected to a series of pressurized tubes, all leading back to a small tank. The barkeep turned the valve and the machine sprung into action, producing a small amount of steam and a moderately loud symphony of grinding gears and turning cranks. He held up a nozzle and pressed, releasing a sludge-black liquid into a waiting glass. After it was full, he released the nozzle and locked up the door, passing the glass to me.

“There you go, one boiler room special. Don’t go drinking it all at once.” I laughed easily.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about.” I held the glass up to my lips, letting some of the hot, alcoholic filth trickle down my throat. I grimaced. It tasted awful as it went down, but the heat mixed with the alcohol burned fine and left me with a very awake, heightened sensation. I twisted my face back into a smile and looked back to the old man.

“I need to find someone.” I said in a low whisper, ducking my head to keep the conversation private. “You’re here every day, so maybe you’ve seen him.” I started to dig in my pocket for the thermographic. The old man began to shake his head.

“I don’t know anyone, kid, trust me.” He held up his hands in protest. I found what I was looking for and placed it on the bar. The old man blinked and leaned forward, squinting with a confused look on his face. “What the hell is that?”

On the bar was a crumpled and fading thermographic picture of the man I was looking for. He had disheveled black hair, a few burn marks on his neck and chin, and a bulky, metal bolt through his jaw that held it in place. He was expressionless, with cold eyes. The old man picked it up, holding it closer to his face.

“It’s a thermographic.” I answered. “They’re hard to come by, so be careful with it. You get this big machine and it traces a captured image in only a few seconds, and then you slip one of these papers inside it and the heat from the steam makes it change colors . It lasts a few days too. It’s pretty advanced stuff.” From the way the old man ‘s face contorted and then relaxed in understanding, I could tell that he was a tinkerer as much as anything else.

“I’ll say. Pretty genius of whoever invented it.” I shrugged.

“It was Falken, or one of his underlings. It’s for getting accurate pictures of suspects or something. That’s not really important. I need to know if you’ve seen th-” Suddenly, I was interrupted as the old man got red in the face.

“Falken.” He spat the name and his face wrinkled up. “Let me tell you something about Ulrich Falken! You kids have no idea how great this city was before he took over! You think a few machines and gadgets make up for how far we’ve fallen? ” I tensed up, not knowing who else was in the tavern.

“Calm down old man!” I hissed through my teeth. “I don’t want to get picked up by any stray bots, know what I mean?” I looked over my shoulder nervously. The singer didn’t quit.

“Listen to me, boy. Your generation has sold us all out. None of you are going to stand up to Falken. You’re just a bunch of apathetic brats who take whatever he serves up with a smile and a thank you. I bet you don’t even know who Zeke Ashdown is!” He was right; I didn’t know that name, and I was not about to stick around to find out. I heard footsteps behind me and hurried to grab my thermographic and dash off, but a strong arm gripped my shoulder and held me in place. I slowly turned around, greeted by two bots, the military police. Technically, they aren’t supposed to interfere in civilian matters, but it didn’t seem like they cared much at that moment.

One man and one woman, it was the man who was holding me in place. He had a strong jaw and swept back black hair. A crooked smile grew on his face as he slammed my arm down on the bar and pulled the thermographic from my fingers. The woman pulled her gun from her side and trained it on me as the man studied the thermographic. He looked at me, smirking.

“You’re looking for this guy, trash?” I didn’t say a word. “So are we. Maybe you can help us out.” I cast a sideways look at the old man who was practically shaking with rage. He stood up and took a step towards the bots. The woman turned and pointed her gun at him instead.

“Easy old-timer. Sit back down. We’ll deal with you in a minute. Slandering the Chief of Engineers isn’t something we look kindly on around here.” The old man gritted his teeth.

“Go ahead, shoot me. Show that you’re nothing more than immoral attack dogs! I’m not afraid of dying!” The woman looked emotionless as she leveled her gun. A popping noise was heard as the compressed air inside the weapon shoved the bullet out, crashing into the old man’s knee. It wasn’t a killing blow, not even close, but it dropped the old man to the ground, grunting in pain and cradling his leg. She turned back to me.

“Talk.” She ordered and the man nodded.

“Yeah. We don’t have time to mess around. We’re looking for this guy and so are you. If you don’t want to end up like your geriatric friend here or worse, you’ll answer our questions and let us be on our way.” I took a step back, trying to look for possible escape routes, but I couldn’t find any. I sighed, trying to buy myself time to think.

“What do you want to know?” I asked reluctantly. The man grinned, though the woman stayed expressionless.

“That’s what we want to hear.” The man said. “What do you know about this man?” He held the thermographic up again, as if I didn’t know who he was talking about. What an idiot.

“Not much.” I said, trying to give away as little as possible. “His name is Gideon St. Clair.” The man nodded.

“Good. Do you know what he does?” I shook my head. His smirk turned into a scowl and he shoved me against the bar roughly. “Then why are you looking for him, huh?” I looked away, trying to think of a response.

“I heard that he’s someone you want to be in contact with if you’re looking for…” I trailed off. “Stuff that’s hard to come by.” I finished, shrugging. The man took a menacing step forward, still scowling. I looked past the two bots, to the other patrons. A few were watching us out of the corners of their eyes, but no one said anything. Nobody wanted to be in my place and keeping a low profile was the best way to avoid trouble. Even the barkeep had managed to disappear into a backroom rather than deal with the bots. My gaze wandered to the old man on the floor, still cradling his knee as blood ran through his fingers and spilled out onto the floor. The man grabbed me by the shoulders and leaned in close, his eyes lining up with mine.

“Listen to me, you stupid piece of trash. I’ve got other things to do, alright? This is not a good use of my time, so unless you tell me where I can find Gideon St. Clair right this instant, and what you want with him, I’m going to blow your brains out right now.” He clenched his teeth, defining his jawline even further and flexing the muscles in his neck. He pulled out his gun and held it against my temple. “Start talking.”

It seemed like time slowed down. I saw a blur of black out of the corner of my eye and turned to look. By the time I’d turned, the man with the gun against my head was on the ground, holding his face while the gun lay harmlessly on the floor. A new woman stood in front of me, cleaning blood off her boot.

The bots wore plain white pants and buttoned up white coats, but this woman wore all black, dark pants and a heavy black jacket, along with a dark beret. She had chin-length brown hair, pulled off to one side. She couldn’t have been older than 25 or 26 and I had to admit she was pretty. Her dark brown eyes were piercing and intense, but she wasn’t paying attention to me. She stared down at the man on the ground. The other woman was focused on him as well, so while the attention was off me, I bent down to try and pick up the gun. The woman in black smacked me across the face and I stood up, stumbling back. She turned to face me.

“Don’t even try that, kid.” She kicked the gun across the floor and helped the man up, who was trying to stop the bleeding from his nose. Suddenly the other bot took a few steps forward, her previously emotionless face now showing fear.

“Major, I, we-” She sputtered. The woman in black held up her hand.

“Save it, Krauss. I don’t want to hear your excuses right now.” The man retrieved his gun and shot me a dirty look before looking back to the woman, apparently designated Major.

“Major, if you’ll just let me explain.” She shook her head.

“I said I don’t want to hear it Metz!” Apparently undaunted, “Metz” took a step forward with a raised hand. Now that I was watching the action head on, I could see the Major in work. She kicked low, knocking Metz off balance and then grabbed at his arm, throwing him over her shoulder and onto the ground with a thud. She stood over him, glaring down. “Never raise your hand against me like that again, do you understand me?” He groaned in understanding.

“I don’t care what your reasons are; you’ve shot one civilian and accosted another. This is small-fry stuff. There’s been a complication at the Chief’s ceremony. Go.” Metz stumbled up and both he and Krauss stared back at the Major. “Now!” She said and the two scampered out of the tavern, Metz still carrying my thermographic. The Major turned to look at me. “And you.” I blinked.

“Me?” I asked, nervously. Whoever this woman was, she was obviously pretty skilled at hand-to-hand combat and she also brandished a decently sized gun at her hip. I definitely didn’t want to mess with her.

“I don’t want to see you again anytime soon. You stay out of trouble, and this blows over. I’m sure Metz will give me an earful later, but I don’t care what you’re doing. Next time, you won’t have me around though, so you better be careful.” She bent down and looked at the old man’s leg. “Krauss is a good shot. Right through the bone.” The old man spat at her.

“You animal…Just one of Falken’s lapdogs…I hate you.” He muttered as she wiped the spit from her face. The Major looked him dead in the eye.

“I hate people like you. You complain and complain and complain and never do anything about it. If you want something to change, change it. Otherwise just die already and leave the rest of us alone.” The old man gritted his teeth and the Major struck him across the face with so much force that he collapsed, unconscious. She looked at me. “Get him to a hospital. If that bone doesn’t get bolted up, it’ll get infected.” I nodded. She rose and turned to leave.

“Hey, thanks for that.” I said as she turned away. “You know, helping me out.” She didn’t face me and said nothing as she disappeared out the tavern door. I grabbed the old man and looked to the other patrons, still silently watching me. “Hey, someone, help me with him!” I yelled and after a moment of deliberation, a few men came forward and helped me carry him. “Dammit, I don’t even know what the hell is going on anymore.” I mumbled to myself as I left the tavern with the old man.

[Raistlin1040]

Chapter 2I kept my gun in my hand as I led Krauss and Metz towards the Central Station. They bantered behind me as we walked quickly.

“I would have loved to hear that guy squeal.” Metz said, a shadow of a smile flickering on his face. “Ten more seconds and I would have put a bullet in his brain and he would have gone down like a rock. Just ten seconds.” His voice lowered as if he were trying to keep me from hearing. “I bet if we go back tomorrow, he’ll be there again. Trash like him always end up in the same places.”

“You’re betting that you’re going to live to see tomorrow, Metz.” I said with a hint of venom in my voice. “If you don’t shut it, that’s not a bet I’d take.” Metz fell silent, nervously fidgeting with his pistol. I allowed myself a short, silent laugh at his expense. “Krauss.” I spoke.

“Yes, Major?” She responded.

“I don’t know what we’re going to be dealing with when we arrive at Central Station, so I am going to hurry on ahead in case I’m needed right now. Take your partner and check in at the base and take orders there.”

“Yes Major.” With a sideways glance towards Metz, Krauss abruptly turned and headed down another street without breaking stride. Metz clumsily followed her and shot me a brief glare when he thought I wasn’t looking. I rolled my eyes and gritted my teeth, breaking into a sprint. In the distance I could see the cloud of red smoke billowing out from the Central Station building. For civilians, it probably seemed like a celebratory gesture, but it was a military code for a mission.

When I arrived at the building, I was surprised to see nothing out of the ordinary. A crowd was gathered, watching the balcony where the Chief of Engineers was standing, flanked by a quartet of armed guards. A shadowy figure lurked in the background, undetectable from where the crowd stood, but faintly visible from my vantage point. I carefully put my gun away and waded into the crowd.

My presence was noticed, and I’d have preferred to keep a lower profile, but the red smoke meant that I needed to care more about the operation and the safety of Falken than keeping out of the spotlight. Still, I ducked my head and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. Falken was speaking loudly and the high-pitched whistling of the amplifier machines being powered drowned out the crowd’s murmuring, leaving only Falken’s booming voice. I settled into the crowd and listened.

“For years, we have enjoyed the greatest technological marvels this city has ever known! Through harnessing steam, we have created machines that not even a god could think of! We can capture a perfect image in seconds! We can heal the wounded and fix the lame, make them stronger and better than before! This genius technology has been made affordable and easy to obtain for you, the average citizens of this city, but I come before you today to announce a new technology that I have spent the last decade developing with my team.” Falken snapped his fingers and a clanking began, as well as a loud whirring. Out of the darkness came a metal man with a large cord attached to his back, connecting back to a large steel machine. The noise of the crowd began to get louder, but Falken raised his arms as if to silence them.

“The Alphawire!” He exclaimed, gesturing to the metal man and the cord. “The Alphawire does what steam, for all our attempts, never could. It is a hundred times more efficient than steam. This machine, this machine I have built here, is a humanoid robot. It responds to external stimuli.” To demonstrate, he snapped his fingers again and the creature began to walk. Falken stepped in front of it and the creature stopped, turned, and walked around Falken to reach its destination.

“It is capable of being operated remotely via a control system, or it can achieve limited autonomy, as it does now. To power this creation would take a system of steam engines the size of this building, but this generator does it all! In the future, we hope to make portable generators that can be carried around by a single person, or even stored inside the machine itself!” Falken cleared his throat and turned away from the crowd, tweaking a few knobs on the generator. He turned back to the crowd as the creature powered down.

“Electricity has eluded us, friends. We’ve long dreamed of harnessing electricity, but all we’ve succeeded at is a few parlor tricks and children’s toys. With the Alphawire, we have mastered electricity. The future is bright, friends! I-” Falken was suddenly interrupted by an explosion. He turned, as did most of the crowd, towards the source of the explosion, a large government building a few streets over.

Immediately I broke out of the crowd, pulling my gun from my hip and running towards the explosion site. I turned to look back to Falken, checking to make sure he was safe. His guards had closed around him, but I noticed the shadowy figure had disappeared. I scowled. The red smoke continued to file out of the top of the Central Station building. It couldn’t be a coincidence. They had known about the explosion in advance. But if that were true, then why hadn’t I been debriefed?

I didn’t have time to question anything as I made my way to the blast site. As I approached, I could see the building was burning and had been partially leveled by the explosion. My jaw dropped suddenly as I realized what the building was. It was the Special Forces Training building, used for mock operations and training exercises. I heard voices inside the building and looked around. It seemed like I was the only person around. Looking behind me, I could see that the cobblestone street had already been gated off.

“Dammit!” I cursed as I dropped my gun and quickly inspected the door. A piece of rubble dropped from the upper stories onto the ground, blazing with fire. I took a deep breath and kicked near the lock of the door. Nothing. I kicked again. Finally, after the third kick, the door broke open. I picked up my gun and ran inside, wary of any falling support beams. The first floor was fairly destroyed, and I could see another soldier trapped under a broken beam. I ran to his side and grabbed the beam.

It took all my strength to lift the beam and push it to the side. I grabbed the man and lifted him, carrying him outside the building and setting him down in the middle of the road. He was drifting in and out of consciousness, so I lightly shook him. Finally, his eyes opened and a panicked, rushed breath escaped his lips.

“What happened here?” I asked him immediately. “Was it the rebels?”

“I…” His voice was thin and reedy. It was possible that he’d broken a rib that punctured a lung or a similar injury. That wasn’t good. “I was downstairs…the explosion came from the third floor where…Commander…Black’s troops were…” He started to fade and I kneeled down next to him. Up close, I could see that his insignia wasn’t of any soldier, but rather a state engineer.

“Come on, stay with me, come on come on come on.” I frowned.

“Training…exercise…must have been…trap…” I scowled and turned to run back inside the building when I heard a mighty crack as the last remaining support beams gave way and the building caved in. Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me and turned, drawing my gun.

A figure in a military jacket stood alone in the middle of the street. He had dark pants and wore gloves, but the most striking thing about him was the helmet and visor that covered his eyes, and the skull mask that covered the rest of his face. I took a step back, holding the gun steady towards him. He began to walk towards me.

“I order you to drop any weapons you’re carrying and get on the ground.” I said.

“On whose authority?” His voice was cold and it seemed like he was trying to intimidate me. I stood firm.

“On the authority of the Mechanist Army.” I answered.

“Name and rank.” He stated flatly, reaching into his pocket.

“Keep your hands where I can see them!” He ignored me and removed a small metal object, tossing it in my direction. I stepped back in case it was a weapon, but it was only a seal. I picked it up and inspected it. It was an Engineer Seal, only carried by Falken’s inner circle.

“Name and rank.” He repeated. I lowered my gun and threw the seal back to him. He caught it and put it back inside his jacket.

“Major Ashley Roth.” I replied. He nodded slightly.

“Major Roth, you are in possession of Dr. Lang, who is very important to Chief Falken and his team. I am going to take him off your hands.” He did as he said, stepping forward and picking up the prone engineer, who now had a name in Dr. Lang. He threw Dr. Lang over his shoulder and turned away from me.

“What about the building? Shouldn’t a team start searching for survivors?” I asked, glancing back at the collapsed building.

“There are no survivors.” He took a few steps and turned down an alleyway. I chased after him.

“You can’t know that! We can’t know that unless we check!” The alleyway was a dead end, but the mysterious man was gone, and Dr. Lang with him. I scowled. “Dammit.” I grunted as I looked at the wreckage one last time. Without a rescue team, I had no hope of saving any survivors if there were any. Instead, I ran in the direction of the military base, hoping to find someone who could make sense of what happened.

Unfortunately, the base was about as disorganized as the rest of the city. Soldiers ran back and forth between the rooms, exchanging reports and giving orders that could cover any range of situations. I walked past a contingent of soldiers into the office of Commander Specht, leaning on the doorframe.

“Special Forces Training building has been destroyed. Heavy casualties. We should order a rescue team.” Commander Specht stood behind his desk, smoking and watching a pressure gauge mounted on the wall. He didn’t seem to notice me, so I spoke up again. “Commander?” He turned to face me, frowning.

“It doesn’t make sense, Roth. Casualties, certainly, but the gauge is reporting that no serious damage has been done to the Central Engine. The Special Forces building was right on top of the engine. If the rebels wanted to damage the city, why not go after it instead?” I shook my head.

“I don’t know, Commander. Are you going to order a rescue team or not?” I felt someone bump into me and I turned around. It was a short soldier with a report in his hands.

“Pardon me, Major, but I need to speak to the Commander.” I let him pass. “Commander, there’s been an attempt on the Chief of Engineers’ life.” The Commander’s eyes widened and he threw his cigar on the floor, stamping it out.

“What? Where?” He demanded.

“At Central Station. After the crowd was evacuated following the explosion, he was led away by his guards but we’ve heard reports that there was an attack.” Commander Specht looked at me.

“Roth, take Metz and go investigate right away.” I nodded.

“Absolutely, Commander.” I bolted out of the door. “Metz!” I yelled. Metz stuck his head out of another room.

“What, Major?” I scowled.

“Don’t ‘what’ me, Metz. We’ve got a job, move it.” I strode out of the building and Metz followed shortly after and we moved towards Central Station.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

“Someone attacked the Chief of Engineers. We need to assist his guards if this is a coordinated attack, and we need to try and capture whoever it was if possible.” As we rounded the corner of Central Station, I noticed Falken on the ground, flanked by his guards and ran towards him. Metz struggled to keep up.

“Sir, I’m Major Roth.” I said as I slid down next to him. “What happened?” He didn’t answer and one of his guards pushed me out of the way.

“The Chief of Engineers has suffered a gunshot wound to the abdomen.” The guard explained. “We have arranged for a medical unit to arrive soon and transport him to a hospital.”

“What about the assailant?” I asked.

“He’s being taken care of.” As the guard spoke, the man in the helmet and skull mask appeared in the distance, seemingly out of the shadows. Something seemed different about him. As he got closer, I could see that one of his gloves was missing and his hand and forearm glimmered bronze. Blood was splattered on his jacket and pants. Metz stepped in front of me, drawing his gun.

“He’s being taken care of.” He repeated, a malicious grin appearing on his face.

“Metz, he’s one of us! Lower your weapon! That’s an order!” I commanded, but Metz didn’t listen. He fired a shot at the man, who raised his arm. The bullet clanked off his arm and fell harmlessly to the ground. The man closed the distance between us quickly and swatted the gun out of Metz’ hand. Suddenly, Metz realized what he had done and dropped to his knees.

“Wait, this was an accident. I take it back, I take it back, I’m sorry.” He groveled. Up close, I could see that the man’s entire arm was mechanical and emitted steam from the joints. He reached across his body and squeezed, and gears began to grind. His metal hand withdrew into his arm, and a blade emerged. I realized what the man intended and stood over Metz.

“Major Roth.” The man acknowledged me. I shook my head.

“This man is under my command. I will make sure he is adequately disciplined within the military structure. You don’t need to hurt him.” Meanwhile, Metz laid on the ground, sputtering quietly.

“Please don’t kill me, I didn’t mean to.” He sniveled. The man gave Chief Falken a glance, and from the corner of my eye, I could have sworn that Falken gave a weak nod. The man pushed me out of the way and brought his blade down on Metz’ throat. I watched silently as Metz writhed in pain, his face contorted in agony as he tried to grasp the blade, and then fell motionless. I had no love for Metz, but to see him executed so brutally was still difficult to watch and I swallowed.

“Was that truly necessary?” I asked, looking away.

“We all make choices, Major Roth. Choices have consequences, and we all have to live or die with our choices. I’m not going to apologize.” The man withdrew the bloodied blade from Metz’ throat. “Return to base, Major Roth. The military will be briefed on what to expect tomorrow.” Without further words, the man stepped inside the Central Station building. Moments later, the medical unit arrived, taking Falken and his guards and leaving me alone with Metz’ corpse. I reached down and closed his eyes, sighing. Something about the whole situation didn’t sit well with me, but I returned to base as ordered, hoping that something would be explained by morning.