Part 2
Marcus scanned the horizon, the display in front of his cockpit showing the world outside of his newly commandeered MT. The gray landscape before him was almost devoid of life besides the occasional patch of trees. The sky was a dark shade of orange, whether it was sunset or the glow of the forges reflecting off of the thick layer of smog he wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter much anyway, since the MT’s display would automatically swap to night mode when the outside light was too sparse.
His comms unit crackled to life. “East perimeter, hourly report.” spoke a gruff voice, likely Atticus, his commanding officer.
“East perimeter. All clear here, if we aren’t talking about the weather.” Marcus jokingly replied. He knew what they were doing was as important as it was dangerous, but a joke every now and then wouldn’t hurt.
“Roger that east perimeter. We’ll tell the weather service their forecast may be off.” Atticus replied, in a somewhat lighter tone. Clearly everyone was at least a bit bored. They had expected some sort of retaliation by now, with it having been half a day since they declared the facility conquered. Surely BAWS would want to protect their stock, right?
Marcus sighed as he turned in the cockpit to face the building, the MT’s motion controls turning the mech to follow him. He looked at the monumental concrete structure, devoid of the wear and tear frequently observed on most of the factories of the planet. It was BAWS’ newest facility, taking it from them sent a strong message. “What would’ve happened if we failed to take it?” Marcus pondered out loud. “We’d all be dead and BAWS would put out some statement to their shareholders jerking themselves off for how good their tin cans are.”
The reply spooked Marcus, who turned to see his comrade, Tirus, walking over towards him. Marcus laughed, “Forgot I wasn’t out here alone!” Tirus chuckled in response. “Sorry, got carried away patrolling up north, so many damn trees.”
“The last thing I expected on this planet was trees. I figured they would’ve all been cut down or something.” Marcus said, thinking of home. Earth certainly wasn’t in it’s best shape, but Vorsten 2 came out of the box a smoldering hellscape. The planet was rife with tectonic plates that constantly shifted and split, which was why it was so much easier to collect its rich resources than other planets. Why dig a new hole when the planet already made plenty for you?
“They sure are hardy fuckers, if I was forced to breathe this air unfiltered I’d keel over in a matter of hours. But somehow they make do. “ Tirus replied. “Of course you would, dumbass. The air is practically poison to us.” said Marcus, glancing at his oxygen supply warily.
Some of the trees had been brought from Earth to supplement the local flora, back when the corporations were still pretending to care about the ‘pristine environment’ while they carried out their resource surveys. Most of the flora was local though, having adapted to the somewhat harsh conditions caused by the near constant volcanic activity around the planet over the millenia. Their affinity for absorbing carbon monoxide and sulfur compounds had been thoroughly studied by various manufacturers to improve the self contained atmospheric scrubbers of interplanetary craft, to great effect.
Marcus’ comms unit buzzed to life, and both men froze as they waited for the message. “East perimeter, eyes high. We’ve got what looks like an orbital drop coming down. Trajectory puts the landing zone about half a click from your position, so eyes sharp. Additional units are en route to back you up.”
Marcus and Tirus looked at one another as the air around them began to shake. As if on cue, a screeching ball of flame shot past them overhead. The fireball dipped just behind a nearby ridge before the ground shook from its impact. The two men began trudging towards the impact site, mentally preparing themselves for the worst.
The drop pod sat in a small crater, steaming as its surface cooled from the violent entry. Marcus, Tirus, and two other MT’s looked down on the pod from a nearby ridge.
“Looks like it malfunctioned. Pods like that are supposed to have retrograde thrusters to soften landing.” Tirus murmured.
“Maybe it turned whoever was inside to paste.” Brunt replied, a soft chuckle following.
“Should we shoot it? Be 100% sure whatever is inside is, y’know, paste?” Beth inquired, aiming her shoulder-mounted cannon at the charred, steaming box. “If whatever was inside survived that, surely it’s hurt.”
“No. Orbital insertion pods like that would barely feel anything we threw at it. Even if we did manage to crack a hole in it, it would leave us short on ammo if whoever is inside is still kicking.” Marcus said confidently. As he finished his sentence, the doors of the pod exploded outward, flying towards the group of MTs and landing only a few meters away. The group’s worst case scenario was confirmed, as an Armored Core stepped out of the pod, armed and nearly unscathed.
The MT’s comms unit burst to life as each of them realized what stood before them. Panic filled their voices.
“Enemy AC sighted at drop point! Engaging!”
“It’s alone, we can do this! Don’t let it get any closer!”
“Open fire! It couldn’t even land properly, I doubt this will be much of a chall-”
The broadcast was cut off as several missiles slammed into Beth’s cockpit, carving a hole in the front plating of the mech before detonating the onboard munitions. The resulting secondary explosion took out Brunt’s MT, its left arm and leg flying off as the cockpit shielding drooped and glowed a dull red from the heat. The pilot inside could be heard over comms screaming out in pain as the MT’s functional arm clawed desperately at the ejection hatch, only to find it melted shut.
“Holy fucking shit!” Marcus yelled. “They’re gone! They’re just fucking gone!”
“Pull it together, Marcus!” replied Tirus. “Enemy AC is approaching, we have to hit it NOW!” he bellowed, before turning and unloading his rifles in the direction of the AC. Marcus froze for a moment before doing the same, training his cannon on the approaching Core.
The Core, after launching its initial volley of missiles, had quickly began its assault boost and charged directly towards the remaining two MT’s. A warning sound played within the Core, its display highlighting the cannon affixed to the shoulder of one MT. It had begun its firing cycle. Reacting to this warning, the Core fired its left side thrusters, dashing to the right while maintaining forward flight.
The cannon fired a second too late, its round sailing past the Core and detonating a few hundred feet behind it. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit!” Both MT’s fired wildly at the rapidly approaching Core, while it raised its weapons and began to return the favor.
Tirus’ MT was quickly filled with holes. After the first few made contact with the outer shell, the MT’s arms simply went limp. No scream. Legs locked in their default state. Marcus quickly glanced at his friend, knowing he had gotten luckier than the MT pilot who was cooked alive. As he turned back to face the Core, the violent crunch of metal meeting metal filled the cockpit, and Marcus could feel his MT flying backwards.
The Core landed after planting a high speed kick directly on the center of mass of the MT, and slowly walked towards it while drawing its pulse blade. Marcus struggled to get the MT stand, its lower half malfunctioning and improperly responding to the muscle tracking system. The Core towered over the helpless MT, looking down on it. A cold, monotone voice crackled to life over the comms unit, sending chills down Marcus’ spine.
“Nice job so far, 364. Don’t play with your food. We have work to do.” The voice commanded. Marcus stared helplessly at the Core towering above him and uttered a silent prayer, hoping any god out there was listening.
The pulse blade sliced through the body of the MT with ease. The blade passed directly through Marcus’ torso. He had thought it would’ve killed him instantly, but no. Instead, his last few seconds were stretched into what felt like an agonizing eternity, every nerve in his body screamed in unison. He tried to move but could not, the blood fueling his muscles spilled out onto the floor like wine from a glass. Slowly, Marcus’ vision faded as the sensations from his body became muted. His final thoughts were if it was all worth it. A question forever unheard, and forever unanswered.
The Core scanned the MT. After confirming the kill, it quickly left the area, making a beeline for the now exposed eastern perimeter of the target building.
364 burst through the loading bay door, knocking over an MT who was unlucky enough to be standing near the door at just the wrong time. The factory floor erupted in gunfire, as MT's strewn about the cacophony of belts, cranes and machines unloaded their weapons at the new threat.
“Enemy AC has breached the perimeter! They’re in the primary assembly line!” A young, panicked voice cried out over the commslink.
The Core activated its boost glide, deftly sliding across the ground and avoiding the incoming fire while returning with shots of its own. A flurry of missiles screeched through the air, slamming into two cannon MT's as a swarm of bullets punched through the cockpit of a third.
The Core activated a scan while reloading its weapons. Seven targets in this room. Two more were detected outside, entering through the impromptu door created by its explosive entrance. The Core leapt into the air, just barely staying below the high ceiling of the massive building, and soared towards the group further in.
The core sliced a massive machine press in half with its pulse blade before filling the MT cowering behind in bullets. The neural link flooded the pilot's brain with dopamine as a reward for clever thinking, and the Core lept forward with remarkable precision to slice the cannon off another MT.
The MT responded by firing at close range into the left arm joint of the Core, causing some damage to the vulnerable and intricate mechanisms within. Warnings flashed on the Core’s displays as it emptied its magazine into the cockpit of the MT. As the MT fell, the Core was rocked by a massive explosion on its back, overwhelming the attitude control system and forcing the Core to the ground.
The MTs had regrouped around the loading bay door and were using the moment of weakness shown by the Core to use all their firepower on the vulnerable mech. A second explosion rocked the Core. An alarm began sounding within the core, denoting critical hull integrity.
Recovering from the overload, the Core’s ACS system came back online and automatically fired the thrusters and maneuvered the Core back on its feet. The Core immediately ducked behind another nearby press and deployed a repair kit, making a wave of nanomachines scurry across every surface of the Core, restoring it to the best of their abilities. They weren’t perfect, but they had repaired the hull sufficiently to quell the constant screech of the alarms. The neural interface slipped a new cocktail into the pilot, and time seemingly slowed. The commslink crackled to life at the same time.
“364. You’re doing good so far, but I’ve got some bad news. The Union has reactivated a tetrapod MT, and it’s on its way to you. Clear out the stragglers before it gets to you. Extraction is standing by.” Fulcrum’s voice filled every inch of the pilot's being. She was who the pilot needed to please. The pilot would not disappoint. The pilot hungered for Fulcrum’s approval, for the rush of drugs the neural interface provided.
And 364 would get it.
The Core burst out from behind cover, immediately firing a missile volley at the MTs between it and the door. The volley was too divided to deal meaningful damage to any of them, however it staggered most of the MTs and gave the Core the opening it needed. The Core activated its assault boost, closing the gap as it fired from its assault rifles midair. One MT fell to the flurry of bullets. The Core planted its foot in the cockpit of another, the metal casing splintering and sparking from the sheer force of the impact.
Two MTs fired their cannons simultaneously. The Core detected the firing sequences and quickly dashed backwards. The explosive rounds flew past the Core and impacted the far wall, opening a sizable hole in the once pristine concrete. The Core returned fire, its bullets finding their marks and shredding the pilots within the MTs.
The remaining two MTs desperately fired at the Core, as if they alone held the secret to destroying it. The Core dashed towards one, slashing it twice across the cockpit with its pulse sword. The MT crumbled as the Core turned to face the final opponent, who had not stopped firing its weapon. With a swing of its arm, the Core sliced the MTs weapons in half. The MT pilot panicked.
“W-Wait! We just wanted to make things better here! BAWS was sweeping hundreds of deaths a year under the rug, and we knew this factory wouldn’t be any different! Please, we are not your enemy!” The MT pilot begged, slowly backing up as the Core advanced on him.
“We didn’t hurt anyone! We disabled the automated security with stolen credentials and any workers who didn’t want to join us were free to go home to their families!” he continued.
“My wife and daughter are waiting for me at home. Please don’t do this!”
The Core halted its advance for a moment, before Fulcrum came over the commslink.
“Hm. BAWS did put a price on every rebels head, but it’s not too substantial if you think some mercy is in order. He clearly isn’t a threat, but bear in mind that tetrapod is rapidly closing in on your location. Make a decision, 364.”
The Core sat still for a moment, unmoving, before turning and walking towards the machine it took cover behind. The Core activated its local interface module and turned the machine press back on, its massive hydraulics hissing as it actuated the thick steel plate attached at the bottom. In the blink of an eye, the Core had dashed back over to the cowering MT. It checked its remaining ammunition. Several racks of missiles, but only about half a magazine of assault rifle ammunition remained.
The Core dropped its guns, and the MT pilot exhaled a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Thank you so much! I won’t forget this, mercenary. I’ll talk t-” his relief was cut short as the Core reached towards the MT, gripping it by the lower leg and waist joint. The Core hoisted the MT in the air with a bit of effort, before walking towards the newly activated machine press.
“Wait! Wait no! Please god no, please! I can’t die like this, I’ll give you anything you want! Anything, please just let me live!” the MT pilot pleaded, but his pleas seemingly fell on deaf ears.
The press raised its plate.
The Core threw the MT below.
The press came down on the MT, struggling initially on the hardened armor, but eventually forcing it to buckle. The screams of the MT pilot were silenced when the MT’s generator failed, but it took another 20 seconds to completely crush the MT, detonating its munition stores and destroying the press, sending shrapnel in every direction. A few small pieces lodged themselves within the hull of the Core, but none hit anything critical. The commslink crackled to life
“...Thats one way to do it, I suppose.” Fulcrum mumbled, seemingly in shock from the utter brutality of the execution that just played out. Her tone quickly changed to one of urgency, however. “364! The loading bay door!”
The Core quickly made a 180 degree turn, just in time to see the four legged tetrapod come skating inside. The tetrapod was easily three times as large as a standard MT, but remained slightly shorter than the Core. Sat atop its four legs was the cockpit, densely armored and covered in various weapon systems. Dual gatling cannons, several missile racks, and a large cannon on top to boot. It wasn’t the most advanced weapon in BAWS’ arsenal, but it surely was one of the most heavily armed.
“Your mindless subservience to the corporations is pathetic. Don’t you realize they’ll turn on you the moment it’s in their best interests?” A familiar voice spoke. It was the woman who broadcast the message to BAWS after the takeover.
“Most of our soldiers have escaped already. We knew we didn’t stand much of a chance against an AC, but we already made our message clear!” She yelled as a volley of missiles launched from the back of the tetrapod.
The Core quickly dashed to the side, evading the incoming missiles and launching a round of its own. The tetrapod lacked the mobility to evade the threat, but its armor absorbed the explosions as if they were nothing. The tetrapod’s gatling cannons roared to life, unleashing an endless stream of scorching hot fire. The Core attempted to evade, however the tetrapod predicted this and easily tracked the Core as it dashed from side to side. A stream of bullets connected with the Core’s damaged arm joint, causing more warnings within the cockpit.
The tetrapod’s guns ceased fire, the air around them shimmering from the heat of the barrels. The Core made its move, dashing directly towards the tetrapod and slashing at it with its pulse blade. The blade cut into the armor of one of the legs, but couldn’t make it deep enough to deal meaningful damage. Another slash scarred the front of the cockpit but once again failed to penetrate the thick armored plating.
A warning sound played inside the Core’s cockpit, before the tetrapod fired its main cannon. The Core leapt into the air above the tetrapod, activating its assault boost at the peak of its jump and pointing its pulse blade towards the less armored roof of the tetrapod cockpit.
The tetrapod jumped out of the way just in time, the Core’s pulse blade missing its target and searing the side of the tetrapod. A missile rack was severed by the blade before the momentum of the Core slammed it to the ground, its pulse blade carving a thin gash in the concrete floor. The force behind the Core was enough to shatter the floor around its landing zone into a spiderweb of cracks. More warnings blared in the Core's cockpit, indicating the Core's ACS system was close to being overwhelmed. A flurry of missiles left the remaining racks of the tetrapod as the gatling guns trained themselves on the target.
The Core yanked its pulse blade from the ground and dashed out of the way of most of the missiles, however the strain its generator was facing began to be too much and its thrust output was suboptimal. The weakened boost caused some missiles to make their mark, causing considerable damage to the Core’s legs. Several alerts of a potential attitude control system overload filled the Core’s display. The pilot had to end this soon, before the damage became too great.
“You will not stop us!” The woman screamed as the gatling cannons began firing once more, sending a wall of hot metal into the weakened Core before it was able to evade. One round penetrated into the cockpit, lodging itself two feet to the left of the pilot’s head. The Core glided in a circle around the tetrapod, attempting to outrun the beast’s turn rate, and succeeding.
The Core quickly lashed out several times with its pulse blade, each strike leaving a glowing red scar across the armor of the tetrapod’s cockpit. This onslaught was interrupted by a munitions warning, coming from the tetrapod’s main cannon. The Core attempted to evade, but the strain on its generator proved too much. A significantly weakened boost prevented the cannon from making contact with the cockpit, however the round slammed into the damaged arm joint of the Core. The arm completely separated from the Core, taking the pulse blade with it. The Core was thrown back from the resulting explosion, alarms and warnings screaming in panic.
But the pilot remained calm.
“Yield, pilot. Yield to The Union and I will spare your life, despite your aggressions today. The Union has use for your skills, and I would hate to see them go to waste.” The woman offered. A hint of smugness within her voice. The pilot didn’t need to consider the offer, it had already made up its mind.
Several new warnings filled the screens. The generator’s limits had been removed. All heat exchangers disconnected. Auxiliary functions disconnected. The power output of the generator slowly climbed, as the Core rose to its feet. In a final act of defiance, it wordlessly activated its assault boost, flying towards the tetrapod MT as its generator entered a critical state.
“You pathetic whelp! You can’t possibly hope to-”
The commslink cut off as the Core made contact with the MT, its generator emitting a massive pulse of energy. The wave fried the tetrapod’s electronics and ripped its cockpit apart, the cuts made by the pulse blade earlier proving sufficient for weakening the densely layered metal. The neural interface screamed nonsensical signals into the pilot’s mind, creating a pain unlike any other. The Core’s displays went black, and the pilot slowly faded into unconsciousness.
The pilot awoke sometime later, not in its Core but rather in a bed. Its cybernetics had been reconnected at some point, and it had a thick bandage wrapped around its head and torso. The room was relatively small, the bed was a double and sat on the wall furthest from the door. Next to it was a small night stand and a desk, with a very comfortable looking chair. There was also a small bathroom, though the pilot could not see what was inside from where it lay. The light above was a dull yellow, and the floor was mostly carpeted. A bookshelf sat next to the bathroom door, though it was barren.
The door opened, and the pilot saw Fulcrum walk in with a tablet. She was wearing a white t-shirt with stains dotting all around the front and shoulders, with a pair of overalls that clearly had seen their fair share of use. Her curly brown hair was just barely long enough to touch her shoulders, barely covering a few of many scars that criss-crossed her neck and near emotionless face. Her arms were equally scarred, though the dark grime covering her lower arms and hands concealed a fair bit.
“Ship told me you woke up, so I figured I’d come check on you. Make sure you’re healing properly.” she said. Her voice was the typical monotone, though the pilot could’ve sworn it could hear a small amount of concern in her voice.
“How are your cybernetics? Did the reconnection take?” The pilot nodded silently. Staring at its Handler with a blank face.
“Good. I'm used to Cores, not Hounds. You’ve been out for about twelve hours. Unfortunately, that woman in the tetrapod ejected moments before your… final act.” Fulcrum stated coldly. “I’ve never seen a pilot be as bold with their attacks as you. It’s impressive, however, careless. The AC was damaged beyond repair from the blast, as you could likely feel in the final moments before you blacked out.” Fulcrum continued, before wiping her hand clean on a rag sat in one of her pockets and setting the tablet she held on the desk.
“Catalog of new AC parts. BAWS was so impressed with how you handled yourself they gave us a handy bonus on top of the agreed upon fee. I’ve curated a list of new parts that should fit the budget. Obviously it will have to be cleared by me before any orders are placed, but we’ll have some time to discuss your choices while you recover.” Fulcrum said as the pilot attempted to stand from the bed. A sharp pain in its head almost sent it to the floor, but it was quickly caught by its Handler just as its legs buckled.
“Take it easy, 364. That surge did a number to you. I’ve got a shipment of meds that’ll be delivered in a few hours to expedite your recovery, but for now you need to rest.” She said softly. The pilot nodded, slowly sitting back down on the bed. It only just now realized how soft and inviting the bed truly was, and how heavy her eyes were.
“I’ll be in to check on you from time to time, but if you need me you can contact me through the tablet. I also took the liberty of loading a map of the ship into your ocular implants, should you need something once you can walk on your own again.” Fulcrum stated, returning to her typical monotone voice. The pilot laid her head back on the pillow as Fulcrum moved the tabet from the desk to the side table, and switched the display off. Fulcrum grabbed the covers of the bed and placed them gently on top of the pilot, before standing up straight and pausing when their gazes met. Fulcrum looked down into her pilots eyes, and the pilot looked up at its Handler. Neither said a word for a moment, before Fulcrum turned and turned the room’s lights off. As the door shut, Fulcrum broke the silence one last time.
“We’ve got work to do, 364. Take care of yourself.”