~October 30th, 138 AH~
~Sector Aries, the Mothership, the bow~
Fresh energy surged through the centaur’s right arm. The end of its barrel flashed white-red.
Zelen knew what to do, with both instincts and experience lighting the way. RS [HARPOON], which had become something of a favourite of his. The ghost-blue spearhead cut through the battle-smoke at blinding speed.
Its aim was true and absent hesitation, lodging itself directly inside the barrel of the would-be laser cannon. With the Eidolon’s Nexus-borne energy clashing with Syntropy red, the Kentavros checked its attack, with its right arm powering down momentarily.
This was the opening Zelen needed. Following the fading chains of his [HARPOON], he burst toward the enemy, peppering it with LA [GATLING] as he did. As he approached, the Kentavros’s left arm flashed, inadvertently telegraphing its next manoeuvre.
Zelen never broke stride, instead activating LS [SCUTUM] as he came within range of the Syntropy’s shockwave attack. He tucked himself behind his shield and charged, with his momentum checked by the initial contact, before he managed to power through and rush within point blank range of the Kentavros.
He swung [SCUTUM] to the side in a sweeping motion. This, for one brief moment, created open space and unimpeded access to the centaur’s right arm.
RA [BLUNDERBUSS]. Zelen fired, pointing the large-caliber barrel directly into a joint. A clean hit. The Syntropic laser cannon exploded, not with its own red but the Nexus’s blue surge.
The attack hadn’t shorn the arm clean off, however. Exposed sinews still held the arm to the rest of its obsidian body.
Zelen doubted that the cannon would still be functional, but he wasn’t about to take any chances. With his RA weapon on cooldown, he opted for the next best thing: a good swift punch with his bare fist. Sparks flew as the enemy’s arm finally flew off its frame.
Now, onto the next.
As he turned his attention back onto the left arm, however, the radio suddenly hissed back to life.
“Kingfisher! Get out of there now!”
It was Spindrift’s voice, at possibly the most agitated it’d ever been.
Zelen didn’t need telling twice. When the usually unflappable Spindrift shouted at you to do something, the only sensible option was to shut up and listen.
He backthrust out of range again, and not a moment too soon, as the Kentavros exploded with a second successive shockwave. Even if [SCUTUM] hadn’t been on cooldown, Zelen wouldn’t have known to use it, and would’ve eaten the blast in full.
“Thanks!” he shouted into the radio, but kept his vision on the multitude of projectiles that sprouted and flew from the centaur’s back. And here, instincts came in direct conflict with experience.
Experience told Zelen to focus on evading the ordnances, buy himself the time to re-arm his armaments and start his approach afresh. But buying himself time also meant giving his enemy the same benefit. There was no telling when its upgraded left arm with its double shockwaves would come back online, ready to thwart another of the Eidolon’s attack.
Instincts, on the other hand, told him the time to attack was now. The Meridians are the branches upon which Life blooms.
Dive, Zelen!
As it turned out, his Spiegel was on the same page. And if he trusted anyone’s instincts more than his own, it was Silon’s.
Shield-less, Zelen nevertheless dove hard onto the Mothership’s obsidian surface, making himself as small and flat to the ground as possible. Impacts within the Nexa-Suit told him that he’d taken hits, but he had time later to assess the damage. The hunt—the kill—came first.
The angle of his approach had left him relatively unscathed, as most of the enemy’s projectiles sailed harmlessly overhead. He touched down on the platform, then kicked off immediately, imbuing his forward thrust with upward momentum.
The Kentavros swept its left arm—glowing anew—across its centre, in an almost protective gesture. It was no use. For RA [BLUNDERBUSS] was back online, ready and eager to inflict more punishment.
A direct hit. Even cleaner than the last. This time, the concentrated blue energy from [BLUNDERBUSS] tore clean through the limb, which sent the deactivated shockwave generator flying.
Just like previous encounters, however, disabling the Kentavros’s two main weapons was only half the battle. As the tumours upon the centaur’s back swelled toward a new barrage of attacks, Zelen wasted no time jumping onto its rotund central chassis.
The centaur’s red optic spun toward the sky, better to capture the rusted phantom that now straddled its frame. The next—and the last—thing it ‘saw’ was the expansion of a pale-blue shield, along with the six cyclic barrels that loomed behind it.
Zelen spread [SCUTUM] before himself, and readied [GATLING] at the same time. Then he fired, through his own shield, and didn’t stop firing until [GATLING] overheated. The quarry stopped moving long before its hunter had emptied his clip.
This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
Kentavros eliminated. Well done, Zelen, the path is clear. AU at 75%, ER at 65.
The fight might’ve been won, but the mission was far from over. Zelen kicked the centaur’s carcass aside, and spied a smooth onyx cylinder poking out of the platform it’d been guarding. One well-placed shot from [BLUNDERBUSS] was enough to flatten the generator.
“Kingfisher to all units. The bow is secured for now. Request available units to disable the comms relay as soon as its shields are down.”
“Acknowledged. Jockey, Patron, you two are on the comms relay. Spindrift, help Kingfisher with breaching the hull.”
With one of the external generators down, there was a brief window where parts of the Mothership’s contiguous exteriors would be vulnerable to Eidolon attack. Zelen made his way toward a likely portion of the wall, just as the crimson frame of Spindrift joined him at his side.
The younger Reiter stood aside and left Spindrift to survey the wall for a suitable point of entry. Eventually, the Einkunster stopped in front of a section that looked just as smooth and gleaming black as any other.
“Here,” Spindrift spoke through a private channel. “I’ll soften it up first, then you finish the job.”
Without waiting for a reply, the crimson Eidolon took one step back, then charged forward, with the giant hammer of [MJOLNIR] exploding out of its right arm. The impact, along with the ensuing shockwave, left a visible dent.
Spindrift slid out of the way, and Zelen quickly took his place, pointing [BLUNDERBUSS] into the centre of the depression. He fired, and amidst the blue and black sparks that followed, felt rather than saw the wall give way.
“This is Spindrift. Tactical update. We have hull breach. Are we clear to proceed?”
“Acknowledged. There’s… there’s the matter of the infiltration party. I was supposed to go in there with you, but now…”
“We don’t have much time before the shields regenerate. Make your call, Tripod.”
“We have something of a personnel issue. Bearclaw would’ve been next man up. Then Handles after that. But with both of them gone… Blizzard, how’re things looking on your end?”
“This is Blizzard. Hate to say it, but that earlier fight took a lot out of me. My ER’s down to the low 20s, and I don’t know how much longer I can hold out for.”
“Fuck… Wolfeye?”
“Not much better off here, boss.”
“… I feared as much. But that means, next in the chain of seniority is…”
“It’s me.”
Zelen’s world was a gaping black hole—and the familiar voice that spoke into it.
“Glasswing? I… I suppose you are, but… you were on underwater duty. Your loadout…”
“My loadout’s fine. Besides, the underwater fighting was just slow going, but it didn’t eat into my armour and reserves all that much. I’m good to go!”
“Fuck me… Spindrift, thoughts?”
A pause. Fleeting, yet just long enough to make Zelen wonder about [INEVITABILITIES].
“It’s your call, Tripod. I have no objections.”
Another pause, but it was no longer the time to wonder. For the inevitable had come and passed.
“This is Tripod. Tactical briefing. We proceed to infiltration with two teams. Alpha Team will be Kingfisher solo, to advance through the portside as per briefings. Bravo Team will be Spindrift leader with Glasswing support, to advance through the starboardside. All other units will form Charlie Team, with Blizzard leader. You lot will remain on the outside and keep these synth fuckers busy. Teams: acknowledge new orders, over?”
“Charlie Team, acknowledged,” Blizzard was the first to answer.
Then, all too soon, an Eidolon with shoddy teal paintwork flew in and touched down beside Spindrift.
“Bravo Team, acknowledged.”
“… Kingfisher?”
“Alpha Team… acknowledged.”
“… Alright. You got us this far, boys. Now it’s time to finish the job.”
~October 30th, 138 AH~
~Sector Aries, inside the Mothership~
No amount of reports on the previous versions of the Mothership could’ve prepared Zelen for the experience of actually being inside one.
The first thing that threw him for a loop was the darkness—and just how oppressive it was. As soon as the trio advanced far enough for the light from the breach to fade away, they found themselves in pitch blackness. And what little shine the Eidolon’s optic modules gave off barely made a difference.
To obtain any kind of visuals, the Reiters were forced to rely on two alternating options, both of which left much to be desired. The first was a special Nexa-Lamp rig that had been installed by Jaegers pre-sortie. This threw out bright blue light in a narrow arc ahead of them, but effectively blinded them to everything the light failed to touch, and accelerated ER expenditure to boot. There was also the Eidolon’s native night vision system, which gave a fuller picture at the expense of a fuzzy green filter over their HUDs.
Zelen reflected that this was nothing strange. Despite most of them containing optics themselves, the Syntropy likely relied on any number of non-visual cues to travel within their own Mothership. The enemy had no reason to make accommodations for their human invaders.
Far more disturbing than the darkness, however, were the aesthetics of the place—or at least what little of it he could see.
The trio’s chosen breach point led onto a series of interconnected corridors that were wide and tall enough for larger Syntropy units to pass through. Navigation per se wasn’t difficult, given the Reiters had their radars and Spiegels to guide them, but that didn’t stop Zelen from being overcome by a profound sense of disorientation. He’d read plenty of descriptions that more or less matched what he saw, but none of the dry military documents quite captured the creeping malaise that now ailed him.
Where the Mothership’s exteriors had been unnaturally smooth and seamless, her insides were lined, corrugated, and overgrown with all manner of fibrous cables, blocky projections, and moving parts. Every step that took Zelen deeper into her bosom was a reminder that this complex and functional machinery lined every unknowable inch of this colossal fortress.
It was a stark reminder of the vast gulf between them and us.
Humanity was holed up in one tiny corner of the world, still relying on incremental iterations on whatever non-networked Old Earth tech they’d managed to salvage 140 years ago. The population had stagnated, morale was fickle at best, and resources were dwindling by the day. Compared to that, the Syntropy—especially now, as Zelen stood within the heart of their largest asset—seemed immense, resolute, and indefatigable.
Could it really be as simple as the General had claimed? That their victory here today would pave the way for a swift end to the war? Zelen didn’t want to feel like a traitor, but the question persisted in his mind all the same.
He’d been so preoccupied with being terrified—impressed—by the enemy, that he nearly ran into Spindrift, as the senior Reiter paused to take stock of their surroundings… to scan for [THE INEVITABLE].
“There’s a distinct separation in the pathways here,” Spindrift announced. “This is the junction where the ship splits off into her portside and starboardside compartments.”
“So… I guess this is where we split up too, then,” Glasswing chimed in, then added after a moment’s hesitation, “Listen, Kingfisher, I—”
Megha trailed off, and Zelen finally had the opportunity to get a word in, one he’d been waiting for since their latest Arenaball game. And yet, when the opportunity presented itself, he clammed up, instead deferring to his friend. Waiting for Megha to decide whether to reel the trailing words back in… or let them fall away.
Zelen’s world was a path that split in two—and a familiar voice that eventually made up its mind.
“I just wanted to say good luck. Let’s go fuck shit up.”