Building the Collateral - 77 - Early Access (Patreon)

While she definitely was more of an army brat, born and raised among those who got their hands dirty for a living, Rowles wouldn’t ever turn down a chance to get into a fight. She was a career soldier who always was at the front despite her rank, firing away with her siblings in arms at whatever foe dared. Even if it meant needing to learn how to operate in these zero-g environments, she’d put herself through whatever training was necessary to grasp that opportunity to get bloody- and get paid.

It also made it easier to convince her soldiers to follow through on that same grueling training if she was there among them. Now, as the mix of Everests and Shermans approached Smirking Cat, they maintained their cool while under fire, keeping in an elastic formation that perplexed point defense systems. Even as shots impacted some of their steeds, trust in the plan and obligation to the mission was what kept those struck from panicking wildly and upsetting the growing battle fever.

The major signaled and activated her plasma sword alongside the others, bright beacons of red popping off across the surface of the hull they had landed against. The blade made of flaring energies sliced into the ship’s skin, cutting into armor with the focused intensity of a surgeon using a scalpel. Once they had penetrated through the outer protective layers, continuing through became much faster as the rough outline of a passageway began to develop.

But the frigate’s defenders would not just let invaders into their ship so easily. Point defense guns nearby fought depression limits or sprayed wildly away, hoping that shot dispersion would be able to at least knock some of the wing off. Those not involved in breaching the hull fired back, suppressing the turret operators as their stations were rocked by the violent counter barrage.

The more annoying defense was when portions which had already been cut into suddenly filled back up. Rowles grunted, recognizing the deployment of emergency sealants. Damage control teams were fighting back, daring the attempted invaders to either outmatch or outlast them in this duel between destruction and repair. If it was perhaps a more experienced naval wing leader in charge, they would have likely deemed this attempt of theirs foiled and likely swapped attention to another effort elsewhere; thus, concentrating the wing into those few parts that did look like the path of least resistance in.

That would have been maybe the more smart and pragmatic approach.

Rowles, being not a veteran naval officer, decided to solve things the army way. Namely, if there was an obstacle, you blew it up. And if it turned out to be an even bigger obstacle behind that one?

You called in artillery.

That being said, there wasn’t a Barbarossa included in the wings from the Harrison Armory ships. But the Sherman still did have a very powerful shoulder-mounted laser cannon that might do the trick, especially when put together in a joint barrage. She gave the command and vectored her own steed away from the danger zone, just in case. As the allied mechs began charging up the attack, Rowles tucked away the plasma sword and pulled out something a bit more conventional, racking it with something akin to glee.

The lasers fired then and the hasty repair job could not withstand it in the slightest. The damaged portions of the hull finally caved and were knocked into the internals of the deck itself, which had already been depressurized for safety reasons. Had there still been air within the compartment, physics would compel all that atmosphere to rip outwards into the vacuum, probably sending whatever poor damage control workers inside blasting out into the void.

As was, said individuals in hardsuits scattered in clear panic when it was clear their attempted defense had failed. Surging forward in their stead were marine mechs to repel these attackers, though Rowles noticed it wasn’t as many as expected. She didn’t know, but because of how unorthodox her choice was to just brute force the siege instead of playing the game, the besieged crew were taken completely by surprise. They didn’t have the experience or veterancy to recover so swiftly from such a shock either, though it remained to be determined if they were going to remain a pushover.

Whatever difficulties or complications might be down the line weren’t in Rowles’ head as she unleashed shell after shell of buckshot down the halls of the enemy ship. Only a sort of morbid joy as her squad worked their terrible craft.

Morgan was surprised when Ichigo caught up and insisted on coming along with her. What the other girl had said about the situation being quite plainly beyond them had led her to think that the mechanic was just going to stay in her place and do nothing, let the bigger matters of the cosmos go on by over her head. But maybe she was mistaken in assessing Ichigo’s true personality.

She seemed to err plenty on that, especially given her ‘father.’

At the same time, the girl flinched and pulled the other into an alleyway when the ground shook. Any snarky remark Ichigo was about to make in response was silenced by the roar of war machines engaging one another. One such mech even boosted down the very street that the two had been going along just then, a strong gust of air being kicked up in its wake from its thrusters firing up. “Woah!” murmured the station native, eyes tracking the mech’s wake with awe and reverence. “That’s a Saladin!”

“Saladin?”

“A very powerful defensive mech, one of Harrison Armory’s more well-regarded models. It’s even been said that none other than their founder himself piloted one during the Interest War.”

Morgan blinked, then glanced the way that machine had gone with renewed interest. “Really? I had read about that, it sounded like quite a clash.”

“It’s about the last big conflict between major powers that ThirdComm let happen, so yeah. It was something definitely to see.” Ichigo gave a longing sigh. “Oh, I’d love to be able to get my hands on that. Hopefully even intact, I’d love to see that force shield system in action.”

“What, not satisfied with my Monarch?” quipped Morgan with a dry smile. It quickly faded, the reminder delivered. “We should hurry, because it’s sounding like we’re now in a battlefield.”

“You don’t say? It’s even more of a racket than the gang wars that happen ever six rest cycles!”

During such clashes too, it was typically a smart idea to just duck one’s head down and make sure the armored shutters were closed tightly on. But given Ichigo was already breaking a lot of her street rules already, one more really didn’t matter. Especially when she knew Morgan would probably refuse to sit idly by while there was a fight going on.

Besides, she heard a pretty loud explosion that came from the direction of her little loft. It might have been unfortunately destroyed by the fighting, which well. Kinda sucked.

But it would’ve probably sucked even worst if she was in it at the time, so she’ll take those little victories.

Those thoughts were shoved off to the side just as Ichigo pushed Morgan, this time being the one to be on the lookout for the pair’s safety. She was the one who spied the danger this time, that being a spattering of armed subalterns loitering outside her workplace. “They’re not supposed to be here,” she muttered, studying the colors. “...Station security? No, something even higher, I think I’ve seen it once before. When the gangs in the sector got too rowdy and security were overwhelmed, something like these had been sent int.”

Morgan caught on and glared at the robots. “Whoever owns the port then, if these are like their personal guards.”

“Likely so. Going this far for a mech though, even if it’s a fine specimen, no way it’s some outside client then.” Ichigo’s eyes narrowed in realization. “Which means that it’s likely the master of the station behind this too. You were taken in by them, not by some passing outsider.”

“Does it change anything about what I want to do?”

She let out a hiss. “Well, to start out with, it’s a bigger authority than what I’d been anticipating. Also, those subalterns are armed, do you not see their guns? We can’t take them head on.”

“But we have to get in there!” exclaimed Morgan, glancing back at the workshop. “I think it makes it all the more important I don’t let somebody take my mech!”

“I so wished we could just print a new one,” Ichigo muttered and looked again. “Okay, so maybe one of us can cause a distraction-”

Both girls instinctively ducked when there was another sound of something blowing up nearby, this time accompanied by the chattering of guns. This time, those sounded like more handheld weaponry, so perhaps there were infantry squads fighting it out on the streets. It was close enough that there might very be a firefight happening in the next alleyway over.

The subalterns paused, then the bay doors of the workshop cracked open. More of their kind streamed out, falling in line with others waiting outside. Then the majority of them headed in the direction of the fight, where soon, the gunfire picked up even more. They had likely joined the fighting for… whatever reason. Morgan and Ichigo couldn’t claim to understand, the robots not being so kind enough to talk about their commands.

But the two weren’t going to waste this opportunity. Quickly, the mechanic led them to a side entrance that the reduced guard count didn’t cover, being careful all the same until the door closed behind. However, the threat wasn’t that which lurked outside.

It was who was inside, because this was the side door that led to the small office attached to the workshop. There, sitting grumpily and nursing an ice pack on their head, was her boss who eventually noticed their entry. “You!”

“Oh, hey.” Ichigo gave a little wave. “Looks like you drank too much if you fell over and hit yourself.”

“No, those brutes clobbered me over the head! Then told me to get out, they’ll handle the rest!” they spat, shakily raising from their seat. “The contract’s canceled!”

“Really? Bummer.”

“It’s your fault! If you only actually did your damn job, this wouldn’t have happened!”

“I mean, you could pitch in and do your job as well,” she snapped back. “Instead of just drinking all day and calling it ‘mentoring.’”

“Um, we don’t have time for this” Morgan tried to interrupt her friend, only for the shouting to continue.

“How dare you! I gave you a place to work, didn’t I? One where you got your hands covered in grease, not blood! You know that’s something that anybody around here would kill for, a chance to work in something aside from just the gangs!”

“It is, and I’m at least grateful you gave me a shot. But you also did it to just leech off me! When was the last time you actually worked on something with me?” Ichigo fired back with a sneer. “That was your promise, and you broke it when you decided to spend all our budget on more drinks. Anytime we could have maybe used it to hire other people, get better tools, upgrading our workshop- you squandered it on more cheap booze, by the crate!”

“It’s my money!”

“Yeah, and it’s my life!”

“We really should be going!” the runaway pilot exclaimed, eyes darting about. Either the subalterns had poor audio receptors or the office was very insulated, from how loud the argument was going. “Ichigo, forget about it and let’s go!”

“… Yeah, you know what? You’re right.” The mechanic girl flipped a rude gesture at her boss and declared her intent. “Screw it, I’ve had enough of your bullshit. I quit.”

“Y-you can’t just-!”

“Oh, what are you going to do?” she mocked, turning away to go with Morgan. “You can’t stop me-”

A loud click echoed through the room and both girls froze, recognizing the sound. Their heads slowly turned and faced the red-faced workshop boss, the ice bag on their head only slightly dampening the threat of a pistol in their hand. “You’re not allowed to just leave,” they spat, rising up and advancing. “I spent money on you. Bought protection for you from the gangs. You owe a debt to me, like a parent.”

Ichigo growled but didn’t say anything. Her entire attention was focused on the barrel of that gun as they advanced, perhaps to make sure they couldn’t miss. She wanted to look away to check for something like a way out or something to take cover behind, but her gaze was entirely focused on that weapon itself. It wasn’t like she wasn’t used to being occasionally held at gunpoint in this dump- but yet the sight of that weapon that could kill with a single trigger still demanded her full attention.

As if it was possible to perhaps catch a glimpse of light that heralded the end-

She only caught a blur of Morgan suddenly leaping into action, closing the distance between in but a single leap. That same motion made it so that the girl’s knee crashed right into her boss’s chest before they could react, a choked gasp leaving their lips. The two crashed onto the floor in a collision of bodies, with the young girl on top. Her hand shot out and slammed against the wrist, forcing the fingers to splay out so she could rip the gun out of their hands. A swift backstroke with the barrel to the side of the cheek ensured they remained dazed, as Morgan got up and pointed the pistol, finger on the trigger-

That was when Ichigo broke out of her shock and rushed over, pulling at the pilot’s arm. “Woah, woah! No need to go that far!” she exclaimed, glancing down and shaking her head. “They’re out of it.”

“I- huh?” Morgan blinked, then flinched as if realizing the gun was in her hand for the first time. “I… I didn’t even realize it. Or even think about what I was doing.”

“What, really? All that and you didn’t even register that sort of martial art nonsense?”

“It just sort of… came to me,” she lamely explained, handgun slowly lowering. “I don’t know. I just saw it and knew, I had to get it out their hands. Next thing I know-”

The door of the office slid open, and with a robotic clank, an armed subaltern stepped through with a sort of inquisitive looked to it. Perhaps it was tasked with just investigating that mysterious noise, but when it spied the two, there was a brief binaric screech-

Bang. Bang.

Ichigo covered her ears as Morgan whipped about and fired twice, hitting both the head and abdomen shots. Her shooting was spot-on and the robot crashed over, cortex fried. “We don’t have time!” she repeated, eyes wild from a mix of shock, surprise, and adrenaline before hardening into resolve.

It was like a memory, an instinct that her entire being simply knew how to repeat if she was pushed just a little. Even if Morgan didn’t know where her body knew all these actions, what mattered more was that it right now was what could open up a path for them. So she was going to push on and think about it later. “We need to get to my Monarch!”

“Fucking… fine!” Ichigo gritted her teeth and snapped out of her stupor, tired of being just so helpless. She rushed over to the downed subaltern and ripped the submachine gun from its hands, checking it quickly. “Not used to this, but whatever! You want your mech, I’ll get it to you. Machinist’s word of honor.”

Morgan nodded, then headed out first through the door. Ichigo followed, giving only one last look to her former boss on the floor. Then she was squared her gaze forward and pushed alongside her guest, ready to help if need be.