Building the Collateral - 75 - Early Access (Patreon)

The shift in the battle was quite notable, an oppressive air suddenly lifting from everybody. For the first time since arriving in local space, I could breath freely. A physiological response to the fear, or paracasual trickery?

Whatever it was, I was going to take it as the tides of war changing. Which meant needing to seize the initiative. I signaled over to our Harrison Armory allies with a clear message: Now was the time to go on a true offensive.

They sent back their agreement, all hands preparing for full ahead at my command. But there was one issue that they pointed out, which did make me frown.

Half Measure was, technically, in a bad place. My chosen ship was at least patched up enough to continue combat operations if need be, but the situation wasn’t great. Which made it quite inadvisable for the supreme authority on our side to command from.

A smart choice would be to retreat it from the front, place in reserves as an emergency asset if the situation suddenly turned for the rest. The issue again was that it was my flagship, meaning that it could be interpreted as the commander choosing to withdraw and lead from the rear. Something that ordinarily wouldn’t be so much of an issue in the large scale of things, but with how shaky our fleet morale has been as of late, it wasn’t such a great idea.

Soldiers like it when their officers were with them in the thick of it with them. So too did sailors. The logical thing to do then, would be to….

“Sir. You must move your flag over to First to Draw,” Feng bluntly told, scanning the repair updates. “It would give us all peace of mind to know that you are safely commanding from an unscathed carrier than a badly wounded frigate.”

“I know,” I murmured, recognizing the argument to be made. Yet my hands gripped to my chair’s armrest still, almost childishly insisting against moving. So too did my heart, declaring a most unreasonable excuse with my lips. “It just… doesn’t feel right.”

“Commander.” Even Veronica was ganging up against me. “I have calculated that your odds of survival are far lower if you stay here than if you move to First to Draw. There is no logical reasoning to justify your argument.”

“There isn’t. It’s fully irrational,” I acknowledged with a groan. “But Half Measure has been my flag ever since taking command of the Seventh Expeditionary. Even when we acquired La Azul, which is arguably more suited as an echelon flagship, I still kept my banner here. The only ship that I could trust in this part of space.

“Removing it and going elsewhere feels… wrong. It feels like I’m abandoning you all, even if I recognize it is anything but.”

“It is a matter of pride, isn’t it?” the captain noted, glancing at me from his seat. “Moores. I’m touched that you feel so proud of us, so trusting of the crew. It truly means a lot.

“But battle doesn’t always give us the liberty of preference, no matter how many times you try to establish it in our favor. War forces you to change, to adapt- or be killed for refusing to bend.” Feng gave me a dry smile. “Besides. You and I both have ambition beyond this hunk of steel, do we not? Half Measure is, of course a fine vessel, but one that we will surely advance out of one day. It just so happens that for you, today happens to be that occasion.”

… Damn him, that was good. So much so that I couldn’t find it in myself to properly voice anymore protests, glancing wordlessly at my aide. She seemed to understand my last wavering line of defense, and traitorously undid it with a final push. “While I regret that I will not be able to remain at your side for the remainder of the engagement, I will forward all relevant data to Kaldun to act in my stead. Sir.”

“Fine,” I finally muttered, working my way out of the safety harness. “I get it, you want me off your ship. Ungrateful louts, the lot of you.”

The very clear lack of heat in my voice earned a round of coughs from the bridge crew, who saluted as I looked over them. “… I will be moving my flag to First to Draw. Send a message to La Azul, we will be folding and consolidating the joint commands now.” It had already been shaky enough to argue for keeping separation when one battlegroup only had two ships; now, it made more sense for the last Cavia vessel to slip into formation alongside the corporate ships. “Veronica, please prepare my transport.”

“A pilot and their craft have already been allocated for the task. I wish you a safe transfer to your new flagship.”

I nodded, then returned the salute from my subordinates. Then I turned and exited the bridge, grabbing a fast rail to get me to the shuttle bay quicker. Speed was of the essence when seizing the initiative, and I had to make up for the lost time from my hesitation.

Her opponent hesitated and Erica wasted not a single moment.

The free shoulder slammed right into the enemy walker and knocked it square over. They crashed to the ground, hard, but it wasn’t enough to down them. Especially when they gripped their assault rifle and fired a full burst into her arm, emptying the magazine. The rounds flew out from the barrel before stopping mid-air, quivering as they were held in place by the active shield system.

Similarly, her leg stomped forward and pinned the enemy mech there as the heavy laser was rammed right into the torso. Erica grimly pulled the trigger and watched as her opponent jerk from the shots, then fall still. She ripped the mounted gun free and checked it for damages, finding nothing but a mostly depleted power bank.

She grunted and released the spent cell, other hand grabbing a fresh supply of power to load in. The motion was a little stiffer than she’d like, what with how foreign a fixed gun was to her. Erica preferred having the rifle being held by the hands themselves instead of this mounted system. It just didn’t feel right.

Technically, the system was to save on weight and complexity. Ordinary Saladins had to make do with far less powerful weapons compared to this trade-off. So right now, she was piloting an experimental variant aimed at transforming the ordinarily defensive platform into something that could be more like a battering ram instead of an unbreakable wall.

Was the complaint still going to go on the feedback form to the scientists later?

Absolutely. Hey, they asked for her honest opinion, and in her opinion, she didn’t like it.

A ping from the systems brought Erica out of her internal thoughts and back into what was actually going on. It was Yue, giving a little meek wave from below. Instead of accepting the incoming message request, the mercenary popped open her cockpit instead, flushing out some of that heated air in exchange for the stale atmosphere in the station. “What is it?” Erica barked.

“W-we did it,” the HORUS agent told with a quiver in her voice. “We have partial control over this… part of the installation. You… you should be good to push on now, clear up another sector, um, area.”

“Got it. And where will you be?”

“Looking. Seeking. Recovering.”

She grunted at the reminder and gave a curt nod, allowing the cockpit to button back up again. A blink connected her radio to others on the network. “Alright, we’ve got our opening!” the director hollered through the system. “Time to earn our pay. Push in, secure more of the station, get ready to receive reinforcements. Or don’t, who needs them? Let’s clear them all out and just roll out a red carpet opening to those unlucky folks!”

Chuckles and affirmatives echoed through the line but Erica didn’t pay it any mind. Instead, she advanced, wasting not a single moment in already searching out her next foe. There were surely plenty in this target-rich environment, and she wanted to exhaust all her power cells before the end of the day. That way, the eggheads couldn’t complain she didn’t ‘collect enough data’ for them.

Data clashed and broke as the two faced one another.

The jungles. The tundras. The plains. The desert. The city. The farm.

The background scenery was ever changing, ever shifting, ever transforming as the Lares squared up against one another. A shackled NHP would have faltered. An unshackled one probably would have gotten bored. But for those who had one foot in reality and one in elsewhere, this was a clash measured by focus and attention.

Virus packages were quarantined. Trojan deliveries, exposed. Firewall breaches, plastered over by scrolling digits that made up the cyberspace both fought in.

Reality twisted and warped, a digital construct that was taken and molded by whoever grabbed a fistful of it before being hurled at the other. Swords, guns, beasts, arrows, planets- one could almost liken it to something akin to a duel between magicians, except that these ones used no wand or staff.

Only their minds that measured incoming and outgoing packets with all the aloofness of a scrolling data streamer.

“you are losing’

[i am annoying]

Jean had definitely lost a fair bit of ground after his initial surprise invasion, but was doggedly holding onto what remained. As expected, owing to the distance and purity between relays, he simply couldn’t muster up as much as his opponent. They were much closer to their own, along with being more properly refined. Which was, again, as planned.

He only had to keep pestering V1P3R enough to force most of their attention away from their toys. They couldn’t split their concentration so, not without fundamentally undoing more of their shackle. At which point, they risked more of themselves, alongside inviting greater authority to look their way. One who wasn’t so permissive.

But well, he had his pride too. And he wasn’t going to let One get involved in this match either.

[you can always run]

“funny i have yet to begin”

Multiple snakes suddenly slithered out from their form and Jean bit back a curse- too much territory had been lost to stop them all. He slew a few, but others hissed and slipped away, diving into cracks in the landscape that were the leaks into the real world. Instances of them were loose now, likely activating hidden assets.

“time to play”

In response, the invading NHP redoubled their efforts, determined to not let any more ground be lost. He could only hope that his own relay was purified soon.

Across Port Barbarus, dormant caches that had been in hibernation since the shutdown of the metavault awakened.

The attacking force soon encountered these defenses and found themselves suddenly hard-pressed in but mere moments. Teams of clones and mercenaries that had been clearing block after block with rapid advances were stymied and pinned by squads of robots engaging them. These were older subalterns, it was clear to see, but few could label them as ineffective. Especially when they had undergone a suite of definitely suspect aftermarket modifications that made them quite dangerous to go against.

Yue found herself encountering one of the suppressed teams and helped them, pistol snapping up and firing rounds that vanished the moment they exited the barrel. Moments later, they reappeared back into reality and struck some of the bots, knocking some askew. Most simply shrugged them off and she ducked for cover, rolling to join one of the Harrison Armory mercenaries.

They were angrily working at a tablet and cursing. “Are these things off the network? I’m not picking them up at all, what gives!”

“T-they are connected, but not in a way that you can affect,” she identified, adrenaline briefly overcoming her nervousness. “Best way… destroy them. Blow them up.”

Another mercenary laughed and gestured with the launcher they just assembled. “Told you, now get loading! Clear baffles! Firing!”

A rocket certainly sent them scattering and Yue took the opportunity to run for it, triggering another piece of her kit as she drew close. The subalterns tried to track her seeming blind rush, only to pause when their optics revealed nothing as she suddenly vanished from view. Their audio receptors were barely any better in trying to detect a cloak, picking up only a snapping crack that flooded their receivers with garbage data.

It was distracting enough to allow the mercenaries to load and fire another shot, properly downing their opposition. By the time Yue reappeared in view on the opposite side with another loud crack, they gave a thankful wave and moved on. So did she, following a beacon that was getting louder and louder in her ears.

Elsewhere, Erica in her steed alongside other mechs and vehicles were encountering similarly unusual stiff opposition. It began when a few of their more conventional vehicles panically reported sudden armor failure. Then it escalated into structural damage that led to a few retreating, some even bailing out. Yet most eerily, all reported no enemy sightings.

They just… reported damage suddenly being there, like it had always been present all along.

It was creepy, so Erica wanted to set it on fire. But as she wasn’t in her trusted Genghis, she’ll settle for just blowing it up instead. So she took command of a nearby Sherman squad and directed them to accompany her in investigating this source of resistance.

The folks who inhabited Port Barbarus seemed to at least have enough sense to realize that their streets were now a battlefield, their homes probably the closest thing to a safe sanctuary they had. So they made themselves scarce, save the odd fanatic or devotee who threw themselves against the invaders with whatever they could muster. If it hadn’t been for her frame’s defensive properties allowing her to catch and defuse rockets with a force field, these sort of tight environments would probably be a nightmare to fight in.

As is, they cluttered up the sensor readings, making it difficult to identify enemy signatures. It was at least still there when Erica and her team arrived on the team, searching and scanning the area for the source of their troubles. She even begrudgingly tried to work the digital interfaces, grumbling all the while about these technologies as she rerouted additional power to sensors.

Some things cleared up with that additional boost. A few curious sightings with the visual feed alone, which highlighted what looked like two girls of all people hurrying someplace. Hopefully to shelter, if they were smart. But more pressing was the confirmation of enemy reactors around them- but behind multiple buildings.

The result was quickly shared with her accomplices and one of them grunted. “The heck. Are they trying to ambush us?”

“If they were, they’d have to smash through multiple walls to get us,” another noted. “Lots of property damage, lots of noise. Maybe they’re trying to use the civvies as hostages?”

“Possibly, but that only about works if they can hit us. They can’t-”

a blow to the head as deserved

“Contact!?” barked one of the squad when their friend suddenly staggered, a small hole suddenly marring their surface. “From… where?!”

shot too to the chest from everywhere

Erica’s eyes widened and she shouted a new alert to the squad as more abruptly were hit by something. “Scatter, search and destroy! Unknown paracasual weapon, get me eyes on those signatures now! I want them identified!”

A few of the more clever pilots triggered jets and leapt up through the air, landing on nearby roofs to get a better view. The buildings they stood upon shivered and shuddered, but held together as they quickly caught sight of the opposition and forwarded snapshots them to their leader. They were… weird.

“Hey, Luna. Yue. Whatever,” Erica began with as she opened up a channel to them and passed along the photos. “The fuck’s this creepy crawly? Looks like a bug.”

“P-Pegasus pattern,” she identified, slightly out of breath from running. “Dangerous, very dangerous. Explains… gun.”

“Gun?”

“Gun,” she confirmed humorlessly.

Erica shrugged, then shut down the connection. “Alright then. What are you waiting for, shoot them!”

She caught sight of one now as she rounded a corner. Her heavy laser was brought to bear on the quad mech that scurried about, orange beams lighting up the street as they stabbed into her foe. The frame quivered under the blow, managing to withstand a barrage. The weapon on their back spine flexed and so did her shoulder with the shield-

a hit supersedes all known possibilities

The director gaped at the new hole opened up in her frame’s armor, that force shield that the eggheads had been bragging about so endlessly suddenly rendered apparently useless before this bullshit She howled and unleashed another volley, this time bringing that twisted machine down. But it was only one of many that now engaged the invaders of the orbital installation.

Goddammit. She should’ve asked for that research compensation in advance if she knew she was going to be dealing with this ridiculousness!