There's no sound in space, but pilots swear they can hear something either way. They hear it, when their rigs clash. They hear it when the machinery glides across soft astral sand, when the photon blast pushes them back upon impact. The beating, the virring and the grinding. A soldier isn't the same as a pilot, a deck aviator isn't either. Not a turreter, not a scout, not a single other division of the Consortium comes close in similarity to the pilot.
11/11/2046, 0400. Hades Station
“Hades, 5th Legion ready for launch.” Came a voice over the open channel. The helmet sealed itself to the heavy cosmosuit Cassie felt entombed in. The darkness around her wharred and hissed, certain areas having a calm mechanical hum coming from them as the electronics came to life all around her.
When the lights turned on, it was mostly ambient buttons and indicators and their gentle glow of red, green and yellow. When the central chamber finished closing in front of her, the wide network of screens came online as well. Diagrams of the rigs different portions, the pylons and axillary charge, the arms and weapon ammunition, all displayed on either side of her vision with just the wide view image of the outside in the centre of her screens.
She tapped a few surfaces, changing the comms channel to a squadron wide one instead before declaring her status, “HL-160, Cassie, operational.”
In a moment's time, her comrades' voices echoed out in the rig after her, giving confirmation status as well. A small panel on her lower right showed a 4 by 4 grid of red mechas turning blue with each new voice. Once they were all operational, her rig jolted and slowly started moving forward, her centurion's voice echoing in the open channels, “Hades, 8th Legion, ready for launch.”
Cassie sighed, leaned back into the thankfully newer model of cosmosuits they had been recently issued. Softer, with less shit congregated to the back of the suit now offering a much more relaxing way of leaning back for her as her Legion was transported to the open bays. As far as her briefing had mentioned, they were probably in orbit with Pluto by now. This wouldn't be a drill, this was the real thing. The childhood fantasies of every Earthian would now be completed, in the worst way possible, in reality.
She hadn’t much idea what the Outers had a falling out with the Consortium over, and she wasn’t the clever type like her sister so she never really bothered to look into it. Dumb, but that was the way she liked it. Better to let more capable people worry about the things she hadn't the first clue what to do about.
“Everyone ready? Double check your seals, we’ll be in open space in 05 minutes.” Their centurion, Adam called out.
“Sir, what's the mission objective once we are out?” Ilias called out over the comms after a moment. Hmmm.. good question- Cassie didn't quite remember herself.
“The orders to stay in formation beneath the ship.” Adam clarified, surprisingly not reprimanding anyone for forgetting it for once.
“If we aren't to fan out immediately, why do we need to leave before any attacks to begin with?” Cassie piped in.
“What if the first attack disables the bays?” Noelle responded, beating Adam to it. “Better to stay at the ready out of view. The ship will hide our output until it's time.”
“And why not attack preemptively?” Conners asked in an obviously tired tone. Cassie had spent all her academic life with him as her classmate, and she still wasn't entirely sure if he was bad at sitting calmly or just battle manic.
“You want the political answer or the military answer?” Replied Noelle. They’d stopped moving forward now, and were instead being lowered into place.
“Uhhhh… we don't exactly have a good idea of their military might, not beyond them using advanced mobility suits like our rigs, do we?” Cassie spoke up with a complete guess.
“...Essentially, yes.” Adam admitted in reluctance.
It took a second, but Cassie drew herself out of the relaxed state she was busy burrowing herself into in her suit. She wasn't the type who liked putting in every ounce of effort when just a little was needed, but this seemed the time and place where every ounce might just be needed. It was time for war, after all.
She reached over to the large panels on her right, the ones with a diagram of her rig, her other half, displayed on them. Even at 2nd gen, they had diverged into a great multitude of different models. Each had their own emphasis, each area they excelled in. Hers? It seemed more reminiscent of the knights in armour from ancient history books than anything else.
Her classmates and comrades had opted for the lighter and more mobility based parts. Cassie, the small airhead with a head made larger with a crown of fuzzy hair had gone for a behemoth of metal and might.
The diagrams showed a proper 3D image of her rig, Class-Hector “Loxodon”, a 65 ft giant with heavy set legs and flat feet better used for sliding than atmospheric flight. A moderate torso holds up a plated and slightly protruded chest, with two black cylinder ends protruding from right below each arm, red glowing crosses acting as their lids.
Pauldrons for shoulder joints protected the machinery, while also acting as support for shoulder mounted plasma gunnery on either side. 3 chambers on either side, made to spin and rapid fire at long distances even. Arms locked in a perpetual 90 degree at its sides with rapid firing plasma rifles replacing its hands while gigantic weights of tungsten alloy protruded the elbow ends. The head, like all 2nd gen rigs, was only for processing and scanners, acting to give the entire thing more humanity than anything else. Three large red lenses encased in a long crown of white metal shielding was all there was to a head, set on a rotatable base.
Other rigs had pylons carrying more guns, if nothing but for the security of versatility. Her backup storage though, was occupied with a kite shaped shield tested to withstand even plasma cannon bolts.
But looking at her rig, her beautiful better portion, it made her sigh inside. Even after working every plate to its perfect position, balancing and rebalancing every side and limb, she still had to carry an extra power supply in place of her auxiliary slot. All that metal wasnt going to run on just one reactor, and as logic forced her to realize, carrying extra fuel was both redundant and suicidal in a gun fight.
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But still… what a masterpiece the Loxodon was..
“Alright! We’ll be dropping off soon. Remember, stay in formation and don't use any equipment that might cause a spike in output readings unless we have to engage. We’re protecting Pluto because the deep space Hades station is the only one capable of finding our enemies before they enter our solar system.” Adam spoke on the comms right as the platforms below Cassie's rig opened to give way to deep space.
“Ad astra.” The Centurion signed off, before his yellow and crimson rig dropped right into the black abyss.
“Per aspera!” The entire legion shouted as each row or standard issue black and grey rigs dropped down after him as well. Cassies as well, flexed her fingers before shoving her arms back into the control chambers for each, leaning back as she first felt her entire rig and its weight shoot her right out of the spaceship they were docked in, before weightlessness and the momentum of her rig was all that was.
The whirring and humming seemed to come alive, and so did Cassie. She punched her arms forward and back, nothing but a reloading function that made the mech also punch in a quick 1-2 motion, and then she felt complete once more. With quick flexes of her fingers, the gentle and minute motions of her arms, the behemoth moved now in perfect sync with her own wishes.
Jets and exhausts fired up at central points of the Loxodon, mainly its back, sides and kneecaps, to manoeuvre it into its place in the white legion of rigs that was Cassie's 8th Legion. In front of her was the back of her comrade Conners, another heavier rig pilot, already flexing her rig and struggling to keep in his place.
“Deep breaths people.. Deep breaths.” Cassie whispered softly in the legion wide channel, though she wasn't sure if it was meant more for her friends and comrades or just the pit in her own stomach now growing. She didn't get it, why the hell did her body always do that? It never hit her, the severity of the situation, not until the blinding headlights were barrelling down towards her just a few feet away. She didn't like that feeling of underlying panic… not when it was right at the most crucial moment.
And then the ship's bottom surface suddenly dinked her rig on the head.
“Wha-” her voice was drowned out in a cascade of yells and shouts of alarm, eyes focusing on the central video feed of the outside world as she came to terms with something very concerning. The entire front nose of the mothership was tilting heavily downwards, the entire portside now leaning as if-
“ATTENTION! ATTENTION! The portside of Mothership Nyx has sustained heavy astral bombardment- I repeat, shield weaknesses will show soon- heavy bombardment on Nyx’s portside!” The alert blared across all channels, dying out all other noises as everyone listened for their next course of action.
“Enemy drones are catapulting asteroids at us- all legions are to remain cautious of stray astral bodies! Legions 1 through 3- stay on standby beneath the ship. Legions 4, 6 and 8, take flight in formation and disable the catapults- be aware of unknown output sources near target drones!-” The feminine android voice dolled out orders by the second, calculated for the best chances at victory.
“You heard it! Legion 8, descent in formation and take frontal charge! We’ll fly straight forward, Legions 4 and 6 are to flank them! Move out-” Adams' commanding voice echoed through a moment later, all other channels but those of our own legion dulling in unison as each mech angled itself downward and full throttled into perfect diving and gliding manoeuvres. In a smooth slope, Cassie and her fellow legionnaires escaped the faint shadow of Nyx, before again sloping upwards and past the ship's portside edge.
Though Cassie's front view would have been the deep space below the solar system at the moment, the imaging in front of her showed a wide view of what was right in front of the legion and their end goal as a whole. Cameras all over the rig were compiled into one giant 220 degree view of perfect clarity. And they needed that perfect clarity for the minefield they were about to enter. In front of them- well, technically right above them as well as in front, the wide expanse was filled with stray asteroids hurtling towards their mothership.
“Legion 8! Diverge above and below the field- take evasive manoeuvres, now!” The Centurion gave the go ahead, his own yellow rig blasting ahead with boosters to be above the field instead. Cassie followed after, using her own auxiliary powered boosters to send her Loxodon diving further below before rolling to the right and curving upwards into position behind him. Soon she saw her comrades diving and boosting upwards in a multitude of directions to escape the rocks that flew by them. Some were smaller, while others were much larger, but none hit either way.
The closer they got, the more it all came into view. Ships seeming just a bit larger than Cassie's own mech seemed nothing more than a central head and a long tail full of… frameworks? Looser, thinner and more misshapen looking rigs were rigging astral bodies, while some others were loading and slinging them on giant droids nothing more than a central mass and a long arm for loading on the bodies.
“Those.. Look- they look wrong, sir-” Ilias called out from his position on the opposite flank of the Centurion, with Cassie on the other side and Conner following the secondary Centurion, Noelle, further away.
“We are humans.. They aren't. You expected them to have humanoid rigs?” Adam replied with a deadset tone evident in his voice. It made Cassie ready and warm up her shoulder cannons just hearing it. Her eyes set themselves on a thinner set of mechs rigging some smaller asteroids, her hands dialling it in before they just barely came into the cannons most effective range.
“We pick them off weakest first, sir?” She asked for confirmation, seeing indications on her screen of Ilias and Adam also training their long range weapons on the same group she had. This helped in diversifying amongst the targets so each target was to receive at least one blast from each three mechs.
“Naturally… 3. 2. 1- FIRE” Ilias and Cassie joined in on the last words, before each flicking just a button each to launch a massive discharge from their respective artilleries.
There's no sound in space, far too few particles in the open air to reach any one point from another. But even Cassie could swear she heard the sounds that erupted from humanity's first volley against Outerkind.