Attendance at Fortescue Military Academy M1 Y:2142
House Thoth, Squad Leader, Squad Zero
M1 Rank: 1/1275, Tier 3 M-Rank: Null
Term: 2, Round: (Holiday)
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“Har, Daedo – you owe me a chocolate thickshake!” Barran roared. “Can’t believe you bet on Dead Beat.”
“His durability was incredibly high compared to all the other mechs,” Daedo said.
“Yeah, but Smack Ninja beat Kick Start, and that mech rocked! So, Smack Ninja had to rock harder. He’ll go all the way now,” Barran stated confidently.
“Assuming he doesn’t get banned for cheating,” Daedo said softly. The Axel bodysuit sensors had picked up the faint micro-bursts and Myrmidon tracked down where they were coming from through simple triangulation. When Myrmidon informed Daedo, he was astonished that the pair who owned Smack Ninja would do such a thing.
The cadets sat through the final, which was not as exciting as the semi-final with Dead Beat. Smack Ninja again used a micro-burst interference cheat to ensure its victory. Daedo was torn about whether to inform the authorities or not. In the end, he decided not. If Smack Ninja was smart enough to beat the adjudicators, then it was fair game. There was a risk to using the cheat and an equal reward, similar to other risky strategies that could be employed in battle.
“I want to see Dead Beat,” Daedo stated when they were discussing what to do next. It was their last night in Munich. Most were heading back to the workshop with the exception of Vannier and Axel-Zero, who had to spend the rest of the break with their families.
“Is there a way to get a backstage pass?” Vannier asked Barran.
Barran shrugged. “You have to know someone.”
None of the squad members or their families had any contacts from amongst the league or the competitors. They moved in different circles. Different universes. Most in the pro league were more like Daedo, coming up from the great unwashed and bettering their lot. Starting with nothing and either crowdfunding some capital or duking it out in the garage leagues until they had enough capital to enter the pro league. And to survive in the pro league, they had to be good – very good – at building, piloting, attracting sponsors, and probably gambling.
“We sorta know someone,” Vannier mentioned.
Barran nodded. “Smack Ninja. But they’ll probably be the hardest to get in and see since they won the final.”
“If you can find their contact, I know of something that will get us in,” Daedo said.
“Like?” Vannier and Barran turned to Daedo, who just shrugged and smiled.
“Okay, okay, I’ll see if they’re in my family’s DB,” Barran said uncomfortably. After a minute of searching, he said, “Whoa, they owe some creds to finance. I have a Sebastian Cordala contact for a P loan where Smack Ninja is listed as capital.”
“That could be Red or Black Beard,” Axel-Zero offered, to which Barran nodded.
“Okay, Daedo, what are the magic words to get an audience?” Barran asked.
“Micro-burst 834.22 kHz five-second intervals,” Daedo said, to everyone’s surprise.
“What does that even mean?” Barran asked, then added, “Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll understand.” He proceeded to send a message to Sebastian Cordala titled, ‘Cadets and Micro-Burst.’
Mace whispered conspiratorially, “I think Daedo caught them cheating.”
“Thanks to Axel Corp. sensors,” Daedo said, nodding to Axel-Zero.
She looked at him accusingly. “We all have the same sensors.” She indicated the entire squad with a sweep of her hands.
Daedo smiled. “But there is only one Myrmidon.” And he tapped the cybernetic implant behind his ear.
“I’m so jealous,” Mace stated. She had become very comfortable with Daedo over the last week; she would never have been so open and talkative in the past.
“Are the sessions working?” Daedo asked. The results would not be immediate, but Daedo and Myrmidon had constructed sessions for all of the cadets to run through with their AI. And he expected that they would see some results by now.
“Yes. We are improving. Slowly,” Mace answered solemnly.
“Alright,” Barran said suddenly. “That was quick. They want to meet.”
“Flick me the thread,” Daedo said. As soon as Barran sent it through, Daedo contacted Sebastian Cordala.
Daedo: Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. I just want to meet Dead Beat’s engineer in return for keeping quiet.
Seb: Whateva, kid. Ya know yer taking a chance by blackmailing us. How do ya know we ain’t crims who would kill ya?
Daedo: Because if anything happens to me or my friends, your secret will certainly get out. And I’m not asking for creds, I just want to meet the brains behind Dead Beat.
Seb: I must admit, it’s the strangest blackmail request I eva heard of. Come down to the loading dock, kid, and I’ll get ya in.
“I’m going down to the loading dock,” Daedo announced.
“How many of us can come?” Barran asked.
“One. We didn’t discuss an exact number.”
“Okay, Picard goes with you for protection.”
“You don’t want to come?”
“I’m guessing you used that info to push your way in, so no. I’ll stay out and contact EU sec if I need to,” Barran said, all his usual banter shelved. He took his role as security chief seriously.
“I’ll patch you all into my suit’s feed,” Daedo said as he walked away.
Picard hurried to catch up. “We aren’t expecting trouble are we?” she asked.
Daedo gave a quick shake of his head in answer. After a few minutes of searching for the loading dock, they found Seb leaning against a wall smoking something unhealthy.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
“Oh, it’s you,” Seb said with his raspy voice. With a flick of his head, he extinguished the stick and added, “Follow me.”
It wasn’t long before they were in a maze of corridors where Seb’s ID granted them access.
“I hope yer are good for yer word, kid,” Seb said, standing in front of mech bay two.
“He’s not in the habit of negging a deal if that’s what you mean, Smack Ninja,” Picard said sternly, positioning herself slightly in front of Daedo.
Seb grunted. “You kids some sort of team? Never heard of Daedalus.”
“It’s our company,” Daedo said. “This place is huge. Where is Dead Beat?”
Mech bay two was a communal bay for half of the unseeded competitors, most of which were packing up, loading hoverbins and jacks.
“How should I know?” Seb replied with a shrug. “I just know he’s in two.” He resisted the urge to ask how the kid had uncovered the micro-blast, but the less they talked about it, the better. As long as the league didn’t find out, he was golden.
Daedo dashed down the line of pro league mechs looking for Dead Beat’s colouring of gunmetal grey. A few of the mechs had been packed down, with the main body parts dismantled into five separate pieces.
There were almost thirty mechs in mech bay two, fifteen on each side of the long central avenue. The avenue was currently occupied with large containers of gear from the early exits trying to leave the venue.
“There,” Picard said, pointing.
At the end of the row was the unmistakeable gunmetal grey mech Dead Beat. Most mechs had some colour scheme, whereas Dead Beat’s persona was that he couldn’t care less for the lengths of pomp and pageantry his competitors went to.
The pair rushed down to the last section of the bay and Daedo began to look for the engineer or pilot – anyone.
Dead Beat was slowly being dismantled but not into five sections. Piece by piece was coming off and being thrown into hoverbins. Every plate and strut, no matter the size, was being pulled off by little soccer ball-sized bots with arms and legs.
The once pristine facility was covered in lubricants, black powder, and small shards of metal. But for all the activity, Daedo couldn’t see anyone. Using the bodysuit’s sensors, he had Myrmidon scan the surrounding area. The thermal and sonic sensors detected someone high up on a ledge.
“I’m going to look up there,” Daedo told Picard, pointing to a five-metre by two-metre platform ten metres up on the rear wall. There was no grappler handy, so Daedo scaled up the section separator, which fortunately consisted of a box-shaped frame.
Ten metres was a long way up, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t done a hundred times on the obstacle course.
When Daedo got to the ledge, he was surprised to see a girl lying on her back using a control screen to presumably direct the bots below. She was covered in black soot, just like their section of the bay. It was difficult for him to tell what she looked like since it was caked on fairly thick. Her hair was likely jet black, but that could be the grime covering up another colour.
“Hey,” Daedo said.
“Get lost. I’m busy, can’t you see?” the girl said.
She spoke with an exotic accent. She didn’t sound like she was from the EU. She was also unsurprised by his sudden appearance due to the control screen showing what the bots were sensing.
“Is that your mech? Dead Beat?” Daedo asked.
“No,” she said.
“Then whose is it?” Daedo pressed.
“If I tell you will you go away?”
“Sure.”
“It’s my father’s”
Daedo considered asking where her father was but decided he could just wait down below, and the man would show up eventually. This would allow him to stick to the deal. He scaled down the ladder-like structure where Picard was waiting for him, holding something in her hand.
“What’s that in your hand?” Daedo asked.
She laughed sheepishly and quickly put it away. “Spray. In case you fell.”
Daedo gave her a hurt look.
“I was being precautionary,” she said dismissively.
“Why are you carrying first aid spray anyway?” Daedo asked.
She smirked. “Always come prepared.” And she did. It was one of the things he liked about her. Picard carried a reinforced backpack that hugged her bodysuit from her neck down to her waist.
“What else have you got in there?”
After what seemed like ten minutes, Picard finished listing off the items and their uses that she carried in her backpack. Then she asked, “What are we waiting for?”
“The owner to return,” Daedo said, pointing at what remained of Dead Beat.
They sat down at the edge of the avenue and chatted about the upcoming week and what training Daedo and Picard did for the last week. They discussed the melee weapon Picard should work on next term and decided it would be shield and swordlance, but both really needed input from a metallurgist expert.
“For now, design the overall dimensions and any effects,” Daedo suggested.
“But an arc will require power; do we have the power to spare?” Picard asked, knowing there were many important pieces of equipment vying for power, and one of the strengths of melee was that it drew none, working off the kinetic potential delivered by the pilot and the exo.
“Work out a design. We can look at the draw versus damage and then decide if it’s worth it or not,” Daedo said. “We can’t make that decision without knowing the specifics.”
“Should the size change based on who’s wielding it?”
“Potentially. That’s a good idea to maximise effectiveness for everyone. And everyone is growing – taller and stronger – so it’s a moving target. The only issue is that we have to provide the adjudicator with a sample for each version.”
“I might stick with two versions to begin with then. One for the taller and one for the shorter squad members,” she teased, patting Daedo on the head.
Daedo began to wonder when the father would return. He looked up the long aisle and saw a short Asian-looking man walking towards them. Daedo stood up to greet him.
“Ah, hello, sir,” he said as the man arrived, looking them up and down.
The Asian man bowed slightly, and Daedo and Picard bowed lower in return, as he was their elder.
“What is it you want, young man?” he asked in the same exotic accent as his presumed daughter from the platform.
“I’m looking for the person who created the compounds used in Dead Beat’s construction,” Daedo said.
“Ah, I see,” the man said. “So you worked out what his real strength is.”
Daedo shrugged. “It wasn’t hard. It was pretty obvious the piloting and structural design were poor. But your mech composite is leagues above everything else. That is what interests me. Are you the metallurgist, sir?”
The man huffed. “I was the pilot and designed the mech! You, young man, are extremely rude.” He went red in the face and seemed about to yell at Daedo further.
“But accurate,” the girl from above said. She had climbed down from the platform and was now standing behind them. “Father, are we able to leave? Are we now in debt? Do I need to keep dismantling Dead Beat?”
The man hesitated. “Ah, uh …” he stuttered before finally saying, “The winnings are enough to keep us afloat. But this is not to be discussed in front of strangers, So-Ra.”
So-Ra turned to Daedo. “Why do you want to find the metallurgist?”
“Because I need a great one,” Daedo answered matter-of-factly.
So-Ra tilted her head, but was silent, indicating for Daedo to continue.
“Daedalus is in need of a metallurgist of this calibre,” he said, pointing at Dead Beat.
“Is Daedalus your pro mech?” So-Ra asked, circling Daedo and pointing to the red wording of ‘Daedalus’ on his bodysuit.
“They are just children, So-Ra,” the father stated in what Myrmidon informed Daedo was a Korean dialect.
“So am I, father,” So-Ra said, “but they look like they have creds. They were able to aptly assess the mech’s – and your – capabilities.”
So-Ra and her father switched languages when they spoke together. However, Myrmidon was able to translate real-time by using a simple software tool from the net.
Daedo looked at Picard. “I’m out of my depth. We need Barran and Vannier here.” He then turned to address the father and daughter. “We have creds and are willing to make a deal with you. But I am just a cadet at Fortescue Military Academy, so I am not the right person to make this deal. I just came here to find the brains behind Dead Beat’s composite.”
“You attend a military academy?” the father asked, his interest piqued.
Daedo and Picard nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said.
“Daughter, they have many creds,” the father said in his other language before turning back to Daedo and putting his arm around the boy’s shoulder. “Young cadet, you are most welcome to visit us. We are very pleased.” He looked at his daughter and then back to Daedo. “The metallurgist you seek is my daughter. She is very talented, no?”
So-Ra did not look happy with her father and went back to dismantling Dead Beat, mumbling something in her other language which Myrmidon reported the software was unable to translate properly. It came out as ‘sexual organs and garden shears.’
“Ah,” Daedo said. He was getting further out of his depth. He’d only wanted to find the person; he had no idea what to do after he achieved that goal. He should have brought Barran or Vannier instead of Picard. She was just as much at a loss as he was.
“Tell me about this Daedalus,” the father enquired. “How can we work together for mutual benefit?”
“Can we discuss this tonight at dinner?” Daedo asked in return. “We need the Daedalus business manager and communications person to help.”
“Oh,” the father said, “you need the adults to help? That is okay. We can meet in a few hours after we get Dead Beat packed away and get cleaned up. My beautiful daughter is all dirty.” He made a tsk-tsking sound and added, “My name is Kang Lee, and my daughter is Kang So-Ra. Here are my contact details. You send through the dinner appointment details, and we will be there.”