Hot Box

She spent no time lingering on the back of the tank, its height and her proximity to the disabled units still full of live ammunition wasn't as safe as being down on the ground with the units that gathered below. On the ground use those bodies as shields. Sliding off the top toward the back of the tank landing on one of the mobile heavy units. Even designed for close combat it could not keep up with her swift movements, legs locked around one of its arms, a swing down to the ground disrupted its balance, a further yank and release made it fall and stagger while Ketna rolled out of the way. On the ground the smaller, faster units jabbed at her, missing only by centimeters.

This far into the fight, Ketna noticed something peculiar about the fast units - all their movements have been in the form of swarm or attacking for the head. Very few of them tried for body shots which was strategically a more important impact to make. Did they really think they had a higher probability in taking her out by headshots? All that would do is give her more predictable patterns in where and how to expect the attacks. Confident she'd take care of this army soon enough, she kept her eyes open for a means of escape after the fact.

Paying glances to the walls around her in between strikes and dodges she searched for any means to make contact. A control panel, a camera, anything that could potentially give her access to security, the door, or any kind of network.

And then she spotted one, a camera, dead center at the highest point of the vaulted ceiling. Thank goodness someone's hubris insisted on having a means in which to watch her theoretically die. It was only one camera but that was enough, if she could reach it that would be her ticket to get a message out. Unfortunately the momentary distraction was enough to give one of the fast units an opening to strike, landing one of its sharp limbs on the side of her helmet.

Ketna was no worse for wear, the helmet did it's job in absorbing the impact and she had moved just enough that only a small amount of the visor was cracked. The machine that got the lucky strike didn't last long as close proximity to the vigilante had permitted her reach to plunge her blade into its core. And then on it was again to the dance. Now that she knew what her next step was she could focus on the remaining machines that continued to chase her about the room. It was a good thing one of the tanks was still moving, now that she knew her goal she could maneuver it under the camera's position and to give her some height to reach it.

Moving from one machine to the next taking it down or using it as a shield she maneuvered the group, and by extension the tank, to a spot below the solitary camera that remained in the center of the ceiling, watching everything. The moment it was in the optimal position she had to move fast, retrieving her grappling hook again, finding it useful to close the distance between herself and the tank and pull herself back atop it without relying on the placement of the other machines. On its back once again, it didn't stray far from the needed spot, remaining still for the other smaller units to climb it and deal with the pest on its back, a tactic she was happy to use in her favor.

In the few moments she had alone atop the tank, she took a cursory glance at the panels and labels, spotting what was likely the most vulnerable places to access by labels that adorned it. Recalling their tendency to aim for her head, Ketna opted to lay on her back, not the most efficient means of fighting in any normal circumstance but one that she hoped would be in her favor. As she had observed, they made strikes for her head, not her body, a simple shift and roll out of the way and their strikes landed on the body of the tank below her. The first few strikes did considerable damage, movements became uncoordinated, and one last strike caused joints to freeze, powering down in place. No longer requiring their assistance, Ketna leapt back up, dispatching the closest machines swiftly. Slowly their numbers were dwindling to an amount she could potentially count, all she had to do now was immobilize the remainder.

As the fight went on, Ketna felt some of her equilibrium was not what it used to be. She had long since adapted the injury on her back, but this impediment was not caused by any sustained injury, old or new. She recalled the vents she saw in the beginning, it was possible maybe they cut off the air but even in that event she had an emergency CO2 filter that would have compensated for dropping oxygen levels even with a cracked helmet and the door wasn't even vacuum sealed so that approach was unlikely. A sanity check on her HUD confirmed that this was not the problem. Oxygen levels were normal, but something else was wrong. She let the small onboard system analyze the air it was filtering to its work while she continued to whittle down the remaining machines that were after her.

In the midst of dispatching another close range heavy unit that closed in on her, her HUD presented the important findings of its analysis. What she saw confused her at first, she thought there was some error, the levels of some substance she couldn't identify by name were astronomically high. Without a doubt, they were pumping something down here with the intent to poison her, but the numbers didn't make sense. If their intent was to poison a human, even a human using a helmet with an integrated rebreather, they would need a high potency to be certain, but this was exceptionally potent. They would have no reason to use a gas with a saturation level this intense, unless-

She felt angry and sick when the realization clicked. The only way they'd know to use this kind of potency against anything they thought to be human, was if they knew she had an abnormally high tolerance for poisons; and the only person that knew that for certain in this instance, was Xerxes. But feelings of betrayal and bitter acceptance would have to be dealt with later, she had a predicament to get herself out of. If Xerxes was involved in this, that meant those that orchestrated this trap knew far more about the threshold of her skill and she would need to change her approach. Some part of her always suspected Xerxes would eventually use the knowledge he obtained from getting close to her in some manner like this, it was why she made careful choices to ensure he wouldn't learn everything.

Her helmet obscured any expression she held, such as the gritted teeth as she glanced over her cover at the camera she was determined to reach. A couple remaining swift units attempted to take advantage of her momentary distraction, Ketna only evaded one wholly, but the effects of the poison did not make her fast enough with the other strike that bashed her upside the helmet, damaging it further exposing her further to the particles that saturated the air. In a rush of rage she launched herself off the ground at the machine that caught her, landing a punch where its primary optical unit was. Grasping its arm in her hand and foot at its chest, she wretched the arm off its body, swinging it around to catch the other that closed in. As it topped over she turned back to shove the arm she still held into the center of the medium unit that was circling its way behind them.

Much like she had done to the previous machine, she wretched the arm off this one as well, kicking over the malfunctioning body. Inspecting the arm in her hands, the room grew silent apart from her tinkering. She was both relieved and frustrated that she no longer had any functional machines left to take out her building rage on.

Ketna's habit of bringing a rudimentary set of tools with her had always paid off in the past, and this time it would be the very thing that saved her life. Wire strippers, emergency soldering tools, useful for making intrusive network connections or to help cross a few wires to forcibly launch the artillery on the machine gun she had removed from its host. Aimed at the camera in the center of the ceiling, a few rounds took out the camera that had been observing her the entire time. If he was watching, if anyone was watching, she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her slow decline.

Immediate dangers dealt with and cables to the now destroyed camera exposed, the only thing left to do was make it to the ceiling itself. The ceiling was metal lined, the grappling hook she knew wouldn't be able to puncture and latch on, dropping the tank where she had at least got her half the way there. The rest she may be able to make if she piled on more of the machines. All around her she gathered what she could, ripping off arms and legs of the heavier units, using the whole of the lighter units, launching them all up one by one onto the back of the broken tank. Some fell off, but more than enough stayed where they were long enough to make a ladder of busted parts. But with every inch gained, the effects of feeling poison were very distinctly settling in.

It was very clear now why the mobile units were only concerned with her head, the cracks in her helmet had sped up the amount of poison she was breathing in with every passing second, and the exhaustion of running around the room dealing with an army of machine had her breathing heavy breaths she couldn't avoid. If they had been administering the level of poison needed for a normal human she'd be confident she would survive with no problems. But this, this was the closest she had ever felt to being near death's door in a very long time.

Shaking off exhaustion she was not used to she made the climb up the mess she had made, slow and careful, favoring accuracy over speed. As anxious as she was to get this finished as quickly as possible she did not give in to the panicked impulse to rush. Experience taught her that slow and careful always saved more time than rushing it out of fear. Eventually she reached her goal in front of the hole she bore into the wall and the remains of the camera.

It was in doing these fine motor functions she caught the manifestation of tremors in her hands. The cable was cleaned and trimmed without too much of a fight, but the more delicate task of arranging the wires into the socket proved troublesome.

Twice, the wires fell out of alignment, thrice, four times more. She was frustrated, exhausted, and slightly more emotionally unhinged, and every miss made her feel closer to unraveling. Deep breaths were the only thing she could do to quell the panic and that came with a price, but as long as she could make this cable work, that was a price worth paying. With centered and renewed focus, a careful but shaky hand guided the wires appropriately into socket.

Trying not to lose herself too much in the elation of success, Ketna kept every movement measured and focused to not drop her hack box, excitement could be just as fatal as fear. At least this was a far more easy task than threading a new cable socket. And to her relief, there was a network to get into and this wasn't some decoy to give her false hope.

Ketna searched the network for any other computers that held the controls for the facility, the air pumps, the doors, something. But even this was accounted for, the network the cameras were attached to only served the purpose of transmitting a feed to a cloud elsewhere for retrieval and viewing. Whatever was controlling the door and the air pumps was either controlled from another network entirely or were both manual and external. Munin was really her only means of getting out, and she trusted him and his skill, without question.

A message was composed and encrypted, sent off the line, short and simple. 'Locked in, door only exit. Closed Network, no access to controls. Poisoned, fatal in hour.' along with details about the network she was hooked into, so he would know exactly where this was and the cloud the camera was originally transmitting to. Maybe he could find remote controls where she could not. Sending it to a third party service they used for emergencies which considering how long she had been inside with no contact, she had no doubt Munin would be keeping an eye on. So even if they noticed and traced the transmission, it wouldn't be giving away any location. Now there was nothing left to do, but wait.

Sluggishly detaching the hackbox from the makeshift cable, she half climb/slid down the pile of metal and carbon that helped her reach her goal. Upon hitting the ground the nausea that had been eating at her became unbearable, finally prompting rip the remains of the vizor off her helmet to hurl what contents she had in her stomach. The act provided her no lasting relief. At least the message was out, now the only thing left to do, was survive.

Remembering the medical kit she brought with her, she rummaged through the pouches she had on her. Munin had provided her with some emergency nanties with special tasks, like ones designed for quick repairs of internal damage and another to counter any foreign nanties. One that she brought with her, was intended to be used for assessing and scrubbing foreign bodies specifically for her unique genetic makeup. It wasn't an antidote and it wouldn't prevent new poisoning once they ran their course but maybe it would slow down something. Jamming the syringe into her thigh she let it administer its contents, she had no idea if it would help but it couldn't make things worse; whatever happened, happened.

After returning the syringe back to its case, she moved to get up only to have the leg she went to put her weight on collapse in a muscle spasm. The limb shaking was getting worse, increasing waves of tremors shooting through random muscle groups. Here was hoping what she put in her would help because the effects of the poison were progressing rapidly. She almost wished she hadn't dispatched everything the bunker had to offer her, a fight would have had the adrenaline running again.

Remembering to pick up the vizor off the ground, her next attempt to stand was more successful than the last. On her feet she re-attached the visor, cracked as it was, it was better than nothing. Careful, steady steps brought her to the entrance of the room resting her back against the wall, waiting. If the door was going to open there was no guarantee it would be safe, here was the best place to wait for her freedom, or death. That was a weird thought, the real possibility of death if she didn't get out in time. Scattered thoughts rummaged through the potential fallout, socially, politically, not personally however. Apart from Munin she hardly had any personal ties to speak of.

A soft laugh escaped, sad that her mind wandered to the loneliness of her existence at the thought of death in this moment. Not instead, of all the work that needed to be done as often occupied her mind before. But that all served to pile onto the exhaustion that she felt from the poison.

Sounds of heavy metal dropping through to the ground could be heard far from the hall above where she had entered, interrupting her thoughts, awakening vigor that cut through. The door had opened. There was a rush of relief when Ketna turned around the corner of the opening, looking up the hall to confirm it wasn't just some auditory hallucination. She tempered her desire to dash, which proved to be wise on her part when voices from above caught her attention.

"She wasn't at the entrance, we're going in after." Was the only phrase she could make out.

She peered as discreetly as she could up the hall, catching 3 figures at the entrance, crossing the threshold of the door.

And then the power cut out. Sounds of surprised exclamations and annoyance indicated this wasn't supposed to happen.

Munin you brilliant fucker.

She would do just fine without the light, it would even work in her favor, and no more air pumping meant at least she wouldn't continue to be more poisoned than she already was, but most importantly, they wouldn't be able to shut the door. She just had to fight however many were in her way to get out. There would be no warnings, absolutely anything and anyone that got in her way, was going to die. Even if she slipped into a fugue state, at this point she didn't care. Her goal was to get out and survive, by any means necessary.

Waiting patiently at the entrance, she listened out for the footsteps of those that came to check on her, potentially dispatch her. The strides were quick until they were a few feet from the inner-chamber's entrance. A light clicked on, surveying the room.

"You still need a flashlight?" One voice questioned.

"Yeah? Why."

"Could get Nightvision integrated, you know, so you aren't waving around a fucking target."

"Ugh always hated night vision, that's more confusing than just staring into the dark. Besides, there's no way she cou-"

Almost as though she had been waiting for an arrogant assumption to make her entrance, Ketna leapt from her corner, lodging her blade through the neck of her first victim. The other two were quick to engage. Lashing out, one went for a stab with a knife that emerged from their arm, the other swung around fast with the goal of flanking Ketna. Working on instinct and what reserves of strength she had, Ketna dodged the incoming lunge and whipped the body that still clung to her blade behind her as a shield to the incoming attacker.

The limp body was just enough to throw off the attack at her flank, buying her just enough time to deal with the attacker in front of her. Already still close to Ketna from the first lunge, the attacker in the front went to knee Ketna in the chest, just as another hidden blade exposed itself. Ketna whipped the blade out from the neck of the first fallen enforcer, adjusting her body to take the blade in a less-fatal location, pretending to fall with dead weight against it. She was not in the state for taking on any more injuries but it was a feint that would get her out. The instant the attacker in front relaxed, she shoved the knife onto their own midsection in and up, which slid back out in a flash into the attacker behind her. The first jab did not hit the spot she needed to ensure they would no longer be a threat, but another quick jab and they went down as heavy as the other two.

The blade that had embedded itself in Ketna's torso, fell out of place, leaving her to bleed out if she wasn't quick. Running on the fumes from the adrenaline acquired from that altercation, she used the focus to retrieve another vile from her pack. Cracking it open she applied it to the wound, which foamed up on the spot. The foam provided the transport needed for nanites to provide a rough patch job of the open wound they were applied to, giving Ketna some much needed time.

No more footsteps were heard down the hall, there could very well be more outside but outside had a higher chance of survival than inside. Relieving the dead bodies of their remaining arms, Ketna made the journey to the door of the trap she had been sealed in, suppressing her desire to run out. Half-way down the hall she heard movement and a voice.

"You guys done in there? She's not still alive is she?"

Ketna kept her steady pace, readying the gun in her hands, bracing herself against the wall of the hall to provide some amount of stability. The convenient remains of the quadruped in the hall provided some cover. With no voice to answer the question, another body came into view to peer down the hall.

Ketna took shots at the figure who ducked out of dodge, her compromised state did not provide her any lucky hits. With the rest of the cleanup team alerted to her presence, she broke out into a full run. Even if they were behind cover, waiting to fire at the first sign of movement, that was preferable to power being restored and being trapped again for good.

"Shit, she's still alive??!?" Beyond the voice, other indiscernible chatter and movement could be heard.