“What is it?” Logan asked, his audio coming over through the comm channel instead of the outside speaker, as Cameron’s visual feed slowly transitioned back to show the landscape of Celephis.

“I… I think I leveled up?” Cameron said, uncertainty in his voice, “Thelma brought that screen up from when I’d been threaded and it said a new promotion was authorized.”

“Nice,” Logan said, “So you’re an Alpha Sirius now?”

“Alpha Primus, actually,” Cameron said.

“What?!” Logan said, somehow finding the strength to clamber out from underneath the Cleaver’s weight as Cameron lifted it. He shot to his feet, surprise evident in his voice as he spoke, “You mean to tell me that you completely skipped Sirius rank and jumped to Primus? Now you’re one rank away from hitting Beta class?”

Cameron could only shrug, unsure as to what constituted the reasoning for his jump, “I mean… I did kill five squires, three A.R.M.S. pilots of various Alpha ranks, and I killed the Gamma.”

“Technically speaking,” Logan shot back, “The Gamma killed himself.”

“Eh, we helped him along.”

“Fair enough,” Logan said, before curiosity got the best of him, “Hey Vic, can you tell me if they’re any updates to my profile?”

The VI didn’t even take a moment to think of a response, a twinge of excitement coming through his usual posh and proper tone.

“As a matter of fact, there is Sir!” Vic said, “As of forty-eight seconds ago, you are now classified as a Gamma rank pilot, Logos grade.”

“Oh thank the stars!” Logan exclaimed, pumping a fist into the air in celebration, “I broke through! Finally! After nearly two years, I can call myself a Gamma class!”

“Hey that’s great boss!” Cameron said, thumbing towards the direction of the train, “What do you say we wrap shit up here with these guys then get back to the ship? We can crack open some wine and celebrate with the team.”

“I’m not opposed to that,” Logan said, “But first I need to do something.”

He kneeled down next to the Cleaver, studying it for a moment. Seemingly approving of his decision he reached up and yanked the three hefty blades buried in the units chest free, before dragging one of Crusader’s fingers along the front of the chassis. There was a small indentation on the side of the cockpit, big enough for the one of the mech’s hands to fit through. He pushed it inside and with a mighty grunt, the dented front carapace of the Cleaver came free, being flung to the side along with a bloody and mangled Riordan, his body hitting the ground with a messy wet thwap.

“Woah!” Cameron exclaimed, taking a step forward and preparing to intervene at the unprovoked desecration, “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“You asked me about how we salvage mechs,” Logan said casually, not bothering to look in his direction, “This is how.” He then proceeded to grab the three Cleavers and toss them into the now empty cockpit, before pulling out a small disk shaped device from it’s place on the back of Crusader’s shield and dropping it in with it. Logan finished his macarbe chore by wedging the cockpit door back into place be standing up and turning to look at Cameron.

“I thought you said, you don’t do salvage?” Cameron asked, snark filling evident in his tone, “Something about not being worth it?”

“Yeah well, I lied,” Logan said, “Besides, it’s not the mech I’m doing this for. It’s for whatever targeting system he had to cause those axes to chase you.”

“Why do you want those? I thought you couldn’t use other units weapons?”

Cameron could hear Logan’s smile through the static as he replied, “That targeting system isn’t stock with a Cleaver unit. It’s aftermarket. Probably only saved for Gamma class and up. Which as of right now, I can count myself in that designation.”

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

Cameron caught on quick to what his mentor was getting at, his own voice dripping with amusement now, “Oh, so you’re about to do something either really cool, or really fucking dumb, aren’t you?”

“Best thing about being Gamma class kid,” Logan said, “We get to accessorize.”

With that, Logan opened up the comm channel to the train personnel, speaking in a more upbeat tone now that the hard part was done.

“Grizzly-One to Honeypot-Actual, how copy, over?”

“Go for Honeypot, Grizzly,” The familiar voice from the train responded back after a few moments.

“All targets KIA, Honeypot. Me and the kid here will pull security till the engineers get here to fix y’all up and then we’ll prep for exfil.”

“Roger that Grizzly-One. I appreciate the assistance as does the rest of Celephis Oil. I hope the bosses up top find a good enough reward for you all, because I don’t think silver will be enough.”

“Let’s not get too noble there Honeypot,” Logan said with a chuckle, “I think silver will work just fine. Grizzly out.”

***

Killian Gray stared at the drone control tablet installed into his flak vest intently, eyebrows furrowed, and deep in thought. Manipulating the device, he zoomed in on the screen, watching his target and another pilot fight Riordan Red. Well… Fight wasn’t exactly the right word. It looked more like Red was putting on a clinic and the two mercs were just barely surviving his onslaught.

“Interesting…” He said softly, guiding the drone as it circled around the battlefield, getting a full panoramic view of the event. He needn’t worry about being picked up on the A.R.M.S. scanners. He’d paid a kings ransom to make sure of it. If anything, to him, this drone was almost as important as his Shadow unit.. almost.

He watched in silence for a few more minutes, just long enough to see his target dancing around Riordan’s Bloody Haze with the confidence and expertise of a pilot ten years his senior. When the kid flipped over the three axes, causing them to bury themselves into the Cleaver’s torso, he wasn’t surprised. Bloody Haze was an ability that was more theatrical than useful. Any Assault variant that was worth a damn would be able to do the same thing Ket did. He scoffed, taking a long drag from a cigarette hanging from his lip before recalling the drone, and closing the tablet. Pushing an earpiece in and clicking it a few times, he heard the raspy breath of his Second-In-Command Dyatlov on the other end, indicating he was listening.

“Recall,” Gray said, “Reconvene back at the shroud. I wanna know when their ship departs the system. Keep a three-hour distance. I’ll be there soon and we can play further.”

“Sir…” Dyatlov said after a moment, “They’re obviously injured. Wouldn’t it be best to do it now?”

“Are you saying you no better than me?” Gray responder, causing a series of nervous sputters and coughs from the other of the line.

“N-No Sir. Not at all. It’s just that-”

“I’m not engaging in an environment that poses a threat to visibility and movement. You know this. Besides, now we know how they operate. We can plan around when we know the target is isolated. Now do as your told and get back to base.”

Dyatlov didn’t respond with words. But a series of clicks on the other end confirmed for Gray that he understood. Now, he just need to give one more order. He fiddled with the earpiece until he got the channel for another of his men, Akonge. There was no raspy breathing, but Killian knew he was listening.

“Put a bullet in Dyatlov and dump him out the airlock. He forgot his place.”

A series of clicks told him it would be done before he got back.