Attendance at Fortescue Military Academy M1 Y:2142
House Thoth, Squad Leader, Squad Zero
M1 Rank: 1/1275, Tier 3 M-Rank: Null
Term: 1, Round: 5
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The alcove’s silence was palpable. It only lasted about a minute but seemed like forever. Neither the Pagets nor Vannier dared make a sound as they waited for Fortescue’s response.
Karine suddenly broke down in uncontrollable laughter. She slapped her leg, and rolled back on the couch, laughing so much she snorted, which led to her sudden embarrassment.
“Do you think I don’t know that?” she said caustically, her mood swinging from unbridled mirth to cynical in a moment.
When Daedo remained silent, she continued. “They have been trying to butt in and change everything since we lost our first M3 match. They even held meetings with Master Nader to bring you and a couple of the others across to my squad. You don’t need to change my mind; I’m in agreement with you on this. I don’t want any of you in my squad.
“We,” she indicated the Pagets and ostensibly her squad, “will learn from our mistakes and come back stronger next term. We’ve only just started. I am not in a panic, unlike my mother, the commander or Master Becker. So yes, I know that already. I’m not worried about what the adults think.”
There was a long pause, and a satisfied vibe emanated from the Horus cadets at Karine’s shutdown of Daedo. Putting him in his place. Lola Paget was smirking.
Daedo shook his head. “No. You misunderstood my meaning.”
Vannier had an idea what he meant, but the other cadets were clueless.
“Please educate me, Daedo,” Fortescue said evenly. No hint of sarcasm or cynicism this time. If this cadet had proved anything, it was that he was smart. She would hear him out.
“You and I are on the same side, even though we are in different houses,” he said patiently. “Even if we were in different academies, we would still be on the same side. The adults think that winning tournaments, gaining promotions, or earning wealth is important. And you are caught up in that.”
Karine rocked back again, not in laughter, but in thought. Finally, she leaned forward and asked, “Then why do you try so hard to win if all this is for nothing?” She turned to Paget-L and snickered. “Rather Marxist, isn’t he?”
Vannier bridled but kept silent; she would not attempt to speak for Daedo now that the conversation had taken this turn.
Daedo stood and said off-handedly as he turned to leave, “We aren’t trying to win. We’re training.”
The pair turned their backs on Fortescue and the Pagets and left. The confrontation was over.
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“What did he mean by that?” Paget-L said viciously. “Was he implying they don’t care if they win or lose?”
Fortescue shook her head as Raoult, Girard, and Niel arrived and scooted onto seats beside them.
“What happened?” Raoult asked desperately. The trio was hungry for information about the exchange.
Paget-L smirked. “Thoth squad reckons they haven’t been trying to win. That they’ve just been training. And get this – adults don’t know shit!” With that last part, she broke into laughter.
Fortescue turned to her resident thinker. “What’s your take?” she asked Paget-A.
Aline Paget was almost identical to her sister in looks, apart from hair colour and style. Even if they had the same hairstyle and colour, it was unlikely friends would mix them up once they spoke. Lola Paget was brash and aggressive, where Aline was intelligent and thoughtful. They were the Horus equivalent of Barran and Daedo, apart from the fact they were cute twin girls.
Paget-A tapped her cheek with a finger. She was trying to find the right phrasing; it was in her nature to be careful with wording. “I think–”
“Bah, you think, you think!” Paget-L interrupted. “Just look at their actions! Their actions are what matters, not his words.”
Fortescue stared down Paget-L. The icy cold look was followed by the statement, “I asked Aline what she thought. Do you think I can be allowed to hear it?”
Paget-L sat back on the couch and crossed her arms, suitably chastised.
Fortescue looked back to Paget-A and nodded, indicating for her to continue.
“I think,” Paget-A began again, “that if you saw their match today, you would see actions that validate what he just said. It looked to me like it was a drill; they were using different tactics and loadouts.”
“Why does he win the Gauntlet each round then?” Fortescue asked Paget-A.
She shrugged. “You must admit he plays with it most of the time.”
“What about this adult thing?” Fortescue asked. “What does he mean by that? He said I misunderstood.”
“He’s referring to aliens,” Paget-A continued. “He said that even if we were in different academies, we would still be on the same team. Which can only mean there is a common enemy we would side against.”
Most of the squad scoffed, including Girard. “We haven’t seen aliens since … well, ever,” he said.
Paget-A nodded. “Since 2101.”
Fortescue looked frustrated. “I think …” she started, but then stopped. Most of her squad was waiting for her verdict before conforming their opinion to it.
She shook her head as if casting doubts away. “I think he is a genius but also crazy as a loon.” She tapped the table in front of the couch, timing her word with the taps. “He probably believes what he says. Which just proves he is crazy.”
“What about the rest of them?” Raoult asked. “Mace is second, and Vannier is always top five.”
“They wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for that exo,” Fortescue said. “Look at the first round; they were barely in the top ten until their new exo arrived. That’s when they passed everyone.”
“So …” Raoult kicked her foot on the floor sheepishly, “why don’t you recruit him?” No one else dared to broach the subject with Fortescue. Their best athlete and fighter was also foolishly brave.
Fortescue stared at Raoult, astonished. “Haven’t you been paying attention? That’s what I’ve been fighting with Mother and Becker about! Plus … he would never join.” She slammed the table, emphasising her words. “And he would never follow orders.” Thump! “And he is crazy!”
The atmosphere became thick with tension. No one from Horus Zero spoke for a few minutes, allowing Karine Fortescue to cool off.
Aline Paget wondered if Daedo was actually crazy. Unlike the rest of her squad, who were sold on the idea.
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“That went well,” Vannier said with a dash of humour as they made their way back.
“What were you expecting?” Daedo asked sincerely.
She thought about it. “To be honest, I had no idea what to expect. I just wanted to be in the top dog position for a change.”
“Mmm,” Daedo said thoughtfully, “I don’t think Fortescue does lower dog very well.”
Vannier laughed. She wasn’t sure if Daedo was trying to be funny, but she thought it was hilarious.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
When Daedo and Vannier shared the capture of their meeting, it raised many questions instead of satiating the squad’s thirst for triumph over Fortescue and her lackeys.
“Okay, okay, so …” Barran was trying to decipher the sledging. “What’s all this stuff about adults don’t know shit and we are on the same team? Were you messing with her?”
Daedo shook his head.
“They think you’re crazy,” Axel-Zero said. “Look at their faces.”
Mace watched the entire capture footage twice before messaging Daedo.
Mace: We need to talk.
Daedo: Okay. After the debrief at 1830.
“Let’s just watch the mechs,” Vannier said, trying to calm the squad down. “It’s going to start in ten minutes.”
“Oh, I can get us into a box,” Barran said.
“Which one?” Vannier asked, knowing it might come with strings attached.
“Marais, of course; those guys love us.”
Vannier looked at Daedo, who shrugged as if to say, ‘Up to you.’
She looked it up and sighed. “Alright. We’ll need to run; it’s on the other side. Barran, it was your idea – get permission before we arrive, or we’ll just take cadet seating on that side.”
The Thoth cadets ran. It was a rare time they acted like regular thirteen-year-olds. They laughed and were excited to get into a box, and not on the backs of who their parents were, but who they were themselves.
On the upper deck of the western stadium, they rushed past several adults who only saw kids running in a hallway.
“I thought Thoth cadets were the smart, quiet types?” one said.
The cadets moved by too fast for anyone to see the zeros and single digits; they only saw the person’s height and the black-with-white insignia.
Barran pulled up to the door first. In his mind, it was a race. He turned back to see Picard and beamed at her. “First!”
She just shook her head. “Only because I didn’t trip you when I had the chance,” she teased, pushing him out of the way.
Daedo was near the rear with Axel-Zero pushing him by the shoulders. “Come on!” she said merrily.
Of all the cadets, he had the most trouble finding a carefree state of mind. “Okay, okay,” he said. “Stop, or you’ll push me over!”
As Daedo and Axel-Zero finally arrived, Cillian came to the entrance with Jeram in tow.
Jeram Marais nodded and gave a friendly smile.
“Marais UTX. I remember,” Daedo said with a grin. Some of the squad’s infectious behaviour rubbed off on him.
Jeram laughed. “That was you?” Recognition dawned on him.
Cillian looked as confused as Daedo’s squad at the exchange. He waved them in. “Jeram, bring them over to Stanley in the number two booth. I want them to meet him.”
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It was the semi-finals for the U1 mechs. Stanley Martin usually stood in the open area with Cillian and watched through the AR glass with one or two others. However, today Sophie moved them into a large booth minutes before the first match. The high-backed chairs faced down onto the arena, forming a large U shape. There was enough room for ten people, but at the moment, Stanley was alone.
Cillian entered and spoke quickly, “Ah, sorry about the rush-rush. We have some special guests.” He motioned and said, “Jeram.”
Jeram entered with seven cadets from none other than M1 Thoth Squad Zero. Stanley recognised the numbering and insignia immediately. Fortunately, they were facing Shu the next day and not Jeram’s Osiris squad.
Jeram looked at his father.
“Go on,” Cillian said and addressed the group. “Jeram can’t leave his squadmates to join us; that wouldn’t be polite.”
Vannier noted how the family operated. They were made to feel welcome, even organising Jeram to come to the entrance. And rather than pal around with them, he went back to his squad. She gave Daedo a look, and he returned an imperceptible nod.
“Cadets,” Cillian began, “this is Stanley Martin. I thought you would like to meet him, as he currently serves in the EUDF as a colonel.”
Stanley stood, nodded to Cillian and saluted the cadets. Within a heartbeat, the cadets returned an at attention salute in unison. It was a misdemeanour that they did not salute first, but they had been caught unawares.
“At ease, cadets; I am not in uniform,” Stanley told them. Which was not inaccurate, he wore a leather jacket over his EUDF bodysuit.
Cillian introduced the cadets one by one. He pointed, indicating where they should take a seat. “It’s about to start,” he said. A fact which they were all aware of.
Upper academy matches operated with the six-metre mech class that had a plethora of rules and regulations. Defence forces around the planet used six-metre as the mainstay, with twelve-metre mechs as the elite units.
The two competing squads were both Zeros, one from Osiris and the other from Amun-Ra. The mechs were coloured with splashes of dark green and red which reflected the house colours.
Osiris’s mechs lumbered in from the north. Over a thousand metres to the south was Amun-Ra. This was a U1 match. If U1 was anything like M1, the mechs would not be retrofitted anywhere near the degree of the U3 mechs. However, U1 had three years of experience from middle academy to draw on. It was doubtful they had done little or no modifications.
The mechs’ main weapons were autocannons, assault cannons, and missile launchers. All with the ability to fire the twelve hundred-metre range. The only impediment to an all-out blastathon was the terrain. Hills and valleys obscured views with a few large masses of trees and a small lake.
Compared to exos, the mechs were quite slow. At best, they reached a slow jog. Each squad had two lighter-framed mechs with massive jumpjets on their backs. These mechs carried a single autocannon.
The assault cannon mechs were weighed down with thousands of rounds of ammo. The calibre of the autocannon was heavier, the rate of fire slower. An assault cannon was a mix between a minigun and assault rifle, capable of massive bursts of fire with the accompanying peak damage output. However, those guns would overheat and run out of ammo at some stage.
The group watched as both sides navigated the terrain, keeping the squads fairly tight, while not standing on top of one another.
As soon as Osiris passed the first hill, one of its lighter mechs jumped into the air. It came back down a few metres to the north.
“Scouting,” Stanley said and received nods from the cadets.
Daedo was inspecting the structural elements of the mechs while barely taking notice of the match particulars. Their feet were huge with four joints per leg, counting from the foot to the hip. Half of the mechs had a disc below the torso which would allow a full torso twist. The other half did not, with hips that connected directly into the torso.
Four mechs had one arm, and in lieu of the second arm had the autocannon embedded. Only one mech held a missile launcher. The other four had them shoulder-mounted.
The mechs’ designs for each cadet was dissimilar. It was as if each squad member had their own personal mech and worked on their own personal strategies.
It immediately made Daedo think of Gaumont and his attitude at the beginning of term one.
“They’re not squads,” he announced louder than he wanted.
A few heads turned his way.
“What do you mean?” Vannier asked the question everyone wanted to.
“Look at their mechs. They’re all different. Major structural differences, armour types, the torso connection to the legs is sometimes a disc and at others a direct connection. Even the autocannons are dissimilar – mounted, held, and with varying calibres.” Daedo had more examples, but that was enough of a list for the reasoning.
“Are they testing different technologies?” Axel-Zero asked.
“Osiris and Amun-Ra testing in a semi-final?” Daedo asked back. He wasn’t sure. Maybe they were.
“He’s right,” Stanley said. “They’re not only competing against rival squads but each other.”
Gaumont must have felt like making a declaration that he was not an outcast, but to his credit, he remained quiet. It was not long ago that Master Nader ordered him to spread Daedo’s methods to Squad One.
The two squads soon clashed. If not for the AR, it would have been a very costly competition. They soon blasted arms, legs, and heads off each other.
Tactics revolved around range, focus fire, and use of terrain. Osiris concentrated all mechs on the most injured or opportune target. If a mech did not have an LOS, it held fire to conserve ammunition and reduce heat.
As the battle wore on, mechs fell equally on both sides. The squads were closely matched.
“Why no shields?” Daedo asked no one in particular. If the lead mech held a shield, it could sustain more damage, slowing down the casualties from their squad.
“No points for taking damage, only for dealing,” Stanley answered.
Daedo shook his head.
Vannier put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, we won’t be like this,” she said.
“It’s not ‘us’ I’m worried about,” Daedo said.
Stanley sent Cillian a private message.
Stanley: Interesting indeed. He grasps what the educators do not.
Cillian: The is not the way the cadets should be learning?
Cillian was not on the same page as Stanley and Daedo. He was a talented engineer who enjoyed supporting and analysing the academy tournaments. He had not considered the wider implications of that strategy.
Stanley: It has its place. Not all of these cadets will enter the military. And they will come together in the inter-academy tournaments. But that is only a handful. What the young cadet is talking about is turning a squad into an allied force where they all work together to progress. I daresay, the alliance they build now will survive past U3, and the times are such that the educators need to change the direction of all squads to this structure.
Cillian: What I see from my son, it seems times are changing. I am fairly sure his squad works together quite well.
Stanley: That may be. But there is evidence before us: This U1 tournament is a testament to the old way.
Mace leaned into Daedo and whispered, “Do they realise we can hear them typing a mile away?”
Daedo: Maybe they wanted a private conversation.
Mace: Yeah. I agree with you. These mechs are crap. I bet we could beat them next term if we wanted.
Daedo: I’m hoping Munich will be better than this.
Mace: We should go to the expo as well as the tourney.
Daedo: There’s an expo?
Mace: Yeah. Companies large and small sell stuff to all the amateur mech enthusiasts.
Daedo: There’s a whole industry around these amateur tourneys?
Mace: The prize money is insane. It makes CyberMech look like chicken feed.
“Boom!” Barran yelled excitedly as an Osiris mech took down the last Amun-Ra.
Daedo and Mace had missed the last of the action.
Cillian asked, “Drinks, anyone? There will be fifteen minutes before the next semi-final.”
“We just drink water, sir,” Picard answered before Barran could order something stupid.
Cillian nodded. “You take your training seriously indeed.”
“Water for me too please, Cillian,” Stanley prompted.
Cillian sighed. “Okay, nine waters it is.” In moments, a robot arrived and poured nine glasses of chilled water directly from a hose connected to its chest.
“What did you make of that match, cadets?” Cillian asked.
In turn, Barran, Picard, Mace, Gaumont, and Vannier offered insights into the weapons, movements, tactics, and accuracy of the two squads.
“Cadet Daedo, you haven’t offered an opinion,” Colonel Stanley noted.
Daedo shifted nervously. “I was disappointed. I stopped watching and started chatting to Mace about going to the Munich Amateur Tourney next week.”
Stanley surmised that Daedo felt he had nothing to learn from the U1 cadets, and it wasn’t arrogance. It was merely a fact.