Vijaik Ace - Chapter 1;
'Bela Grimizan' stood quietly at the end of a narrow hallway, listening intently to a group of young men and women in the room adjacent.
Said room was the relatively narrow mech hanger-bay of the good ship 'Mithril' - A decade old. retrofitted cruiser-class vessel, belonging to non-other than the 'Independent-Alliance-of-Free-States' - IAFS.
The walls of the room were around an impressive 20-metres in height, lined in metal plating and held with what appeared to be visible riveting all around the dusty surfaces. What stood out more than this scenery - With their backs secured firmly into metal restraints - Was 6 tall machines.
Two of these, painted a light orange shade and known simply as the MBT-mk2 - A general purpose mech and evolution of the last war's workhorse front-line machine.
The other three were the impressive silhouettes of an IAFS in-house design - The Heavy-Duty-Vijaik-Beta, or more simply 'The Heavy' - A hulking machine of humanoid design like the MBT's, but with a thick overcoat of chunky armour all around - And powerful metres-wide legs packed with thrusters.
'A strange machine' - Bela thought to herself - 'Not often you get mechs where the cockpit is in the head rather than the torso.'
Of these one stood out amongst the rest for it's deep red colour pallet, marking it out clearly as a commander's customised machine - And its eccentric non-standard 'calibre blade', a long great-sword like weapon taller than any person, resting to one side.
To the machine's other side stood the topic of discussion for a small cluster of young individuals in pilot uniforms - The battered remains of a bright red 'Vijaik-Heavy'. Like the new Heavy, the classic mech was donned with bulky armour and strange weapons - While being painted in the same red and black colour scheme as the Commander-Class Heavy-Vijaik-Beta beside it - After all the modern machine had been named after the classic, making it an odd sight to see the two stood next to one another on the same warship.
The aged machine also pertained a number of names painted carefully upon one side of it's sweeping rounded shoulder armour.
"I don't get why we're carrying this old Abhailien-mech aboard, I mean don't ya think it gives us the wrong sort of image?" Inquired the voice of a young woman by the name of Seina.
"Captain's doin' it as favour for the Lt.Commander, apparently it's her personal suit." - Said back the somewhat stoic voice of a more middle aged woman with an old country accent.
"Personal machine? Ha, you don't buy that crap do ya Wiseman? Everyone knows the commander is an ex-Abhailen Ace, the so called 'Scarlet Scourge' " - Snidely interjected a gruff voiced, tall, well built man.
"That's just a rumour Guaran" replied a shorter man quaintly.
'Guaran' responded to the shorter man, while scoffing a little mockingly at his own story;
"Oh ya Zaied? I reckon it wouldn't be half bad if it's true, they say in the years after 'The First War' she was on the TSU's top priority list as a 'pirate'. Apparently the 'Scourge' even took part in that whole Remembrance business a few year back"
"You shouldn't mock the dead Guaran." Seina cut back in, poking a finger insinuatingly at her comrade.
"Hey I didn't do nothin' like that, anyway weren't it you who asked in the first place?" Guaran replied feigning a hurt expression.
Seina receded a little at the retort, with the other woman, Wiseman now stepping back into the conversation - Her face somewhat contemplative;
"You know, they used to say the Scourge was on the same level as Aces like the 'Bane of Konpei' himself - Or even comparable to the 'The Golden Meteorite' , but her cheaper machines could never keep up with legends like them"
The woman mused thoughtfully.
"That would still make her an Abhailen war criminal no?" Zaied added grimly in his minimalist fashion of speech.
Before the chat could go any further, another voice interceded. The voice belonged to that of a somewhat older women, her hair cut short and clearly lazily-dyed to be black - A prominent eye-patch covering her right eye.
She stood at an impressive height and held herself with something of an intimidating posture, arms crossed sternly - The sound of metal on metal as she approached should of alerted the young group of pilots, and yet she had moved silently across the room;
"That's enough yapping out of you kids." She stated causing a couple of the pilots some surprize at the sudden interruption;
"- -and anyway for your information this 'Scarlet Scourge' you speak of was nowhere near the level of 'The Bane' and it does that man a great disrespect to suggest as such".
"Oh-ho? So you atleast know of her then lieutenant?" Insisted Guaran with a cheeky grin.
"That's Lieutenant-Commander to you, Warrant Officer" - Lt.Commander 'Bela' replied with a stern sigh.
Seina took the break in the conversation's flow to come back in; "My apologies Ma'am, I didn't mean to be rude but umm... I'm still wondering why you have an older Heavy mech-type here... And all those names and - i-if that's ok to ask I mean... - ah-ahem..." She asked more then a little hesitantly.
Observing how the other three also seemed to share this curiosity, Bela sighed once more and decided to come somewhat clean;
"Would hardly take a genius to work out I'm ex-Abhailien, I take it none of you have a problem with that?" She said blatantly in a nonchalant tone of voice.
The others were taken aback a little by this admission, shuffling around awkwardly.
"I'm not the only one either ya know, once we finally catch up with the Tradech-Flotilla I'm sure you'll find this is an equal-opportunities organisation. As for the names.." Bela uncharacteristically left her sentence trail off, the others clearly still feeling uneasy looked to one another for one of them to break the silence.
Their short time together had started only a few weeks ago when the 'Mithril' had left a Bannerman port in order to rendezvous with IAFS's premier flagship - The Tradech - With the intentions of resupplying and escorting the vessel going forward.
However due to complications the plan had gone greatly off course, now the 4th of the month, they found themselves only nearing the nation-satellite 'Glas-Noa Ni' - A couple of days after the Tradech had already left (apparently having taken with it 3 impromptu stolen Casnels).
All this meant the crew of the Mithril and its pilots had successfully missed what was now being called the ensuing incident of an inevitable war brewing between TSU-S and IAFS - Leaving the Mithril nothing to do but try and catch up with the Tradech before any more fighting could break out.
"--The names are old comrades." Bela finally finished after a time.
She followed this up by motioning thought her pockets and retrieving a photo which she haphazardly held up to the others.
The picture wasn't of people but rather was a section of what looked to be a much bigger stone plaque or statue plinth - A long series of names littered said plinth, some matching up with the writing on the old-disused mecha's shoulder;
" 'Fraid that's only some of 'em. It's a plaque from back home, supposedly 'in honour' of those who died in The First War. As for the rest of the names well, they don't even have a plaque - Only record of them left is probably what's on the Vijaik's shoulder."
She finished grimly.
The group of pilots now transitioned from uneasy to disconcern at the upsetting tale and sombre tone of Bela's voice, even Guaran's earlier quippiest had worn off.
"Keep this in mind you lot, ya hear?" Bela continued, placing the photo back in her pocket with little fanfare;
"Once it's over that's it for the likes of us, if we lose there'll be no parade - If you're really unlucky there mightn't even be a record understand? Don't end up like the names on that mech's sho-- The hell was that!?"
Before Bela could even finish her somewhat depressing cautionary tale, a bombastic explosion, followed by a loud creaking echoed throughout the ship - All followed by the rapid screeching of a panicked battle-alarm.
****
'Bela' moved about in her chair and fiddled with the various dials and switches of her red Heavy-Vijaik - A machine known well for its bulky leg and torso armour, two powerful machines guns strapped to it's back and an iconic good old fashioned 'Bazooka' for a primary weapon.
In front of her she watched as the orange MBT Mk2's of her squad subordinate - Who had been nearest the ship's short hanger door - Was jettisoned forwards out into space on the narrow railway lines of the launch pad.
"Don't go too far ahead you two, form a defence line around the ship until we know what we're up against."
Their attackers were apparently two ships of the same make as their own, seemingly belonging to the TSU-S fleet and presumably also on their way to 'meet up' with the Tradech and its stolen weapons.
Before anyone had known it, this enemy fired an initial volley of fire without warning, taking the Mithril at unawares.
Since then they had fired no further shots, instead a series of dark green MBT-class mech covered in spikes and known as the 'Ogre' - Had begun to filter out of the enemy ship's own hangar bays and take on an attack formation.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Not wanting to take any chances, the Mithril's Captain - Commander Asoretset - Had given the order for Bela's team to sortie defensively, as not to allow the enemy the idea that they'd won this encounter by default.
'That woman's damn pride is gonna get the best of us, we'd be better off making a run for it' - Bela contemplated as she waited her turn to launch.
The two mechs in-front of her now out, Bela moved her own machine onto the clunky shackles of the deck and braced at the force of the contraption flinging her forward. She soared out with just enough time to see what was unfolding:
Having obeyed orders Seina and Zaied had been moving to take a defensive stance but before either had the time to complete that simplistic maneuver a brilliant bolt of pink-hot light coursed through the sky, striking straight into Seina's MBT.
Her final words over the comms getting eerily cut short; "Commander! I think there's a Casnel--".
Seina had indeed been right, thought she would never know this as her mech burst into a fit of sparks and fire before exploding magnificently in an all consuming ball of light.
----
Bela stared awestruck at her main monitor, watching the explosion for a few moments before her eyes were drawn to their perpetrator.
A grey and black machine with small red and yellow highlights and the number '04' in white on its shoulder.
From its generally humanoid form, to it's unmistakable facial features and sleek, almost reflective sloping surfaces - It was clear this was a true Casnel - A machine capable of killing one of her team in a single momentary shot.
With Guaran and Wiseman in the other two Heavy-Vijaks launching behind her, Bela watched as wordlessly Zaied boosted his mech forward, gun raised towards the enemy machine.
She could also here the distinct voice of the bridge over her radio-comms ordering a full retreat.
'Too little to late.'
"Zaied don't be a fool, come back! That's an order!" Bela instructed over her own comm-link but it was to little avail.
The orange form of the MBT-2 looked slim in comparison to it's target of revenge, the elegant yet cruel figure of the jet black and grey Casnel - Imposingly making Zaied's mech look like little more than a bright plastic toy.
Before Zaied could even get close, '04' lazily positioned its rifle and took aim - Zaied narrowly dodge the ensuing shot of lightning arcing across the black sky, his ill-equipped shield destroyed by the sheer heat of the blast.
As he soared desperately to dodge the first beam, a second emanated from the enemy ship's own hanger-bay, careering straight into Zaied's machine. Like Siena's it immediately exploded on impact, destroyed in an instant.
The source of the attack - A second black Casnel, marked '05' this time.
The three Heavy-Vijaik pilots could do nothing but watch this grizzly scene happening before them. The second MBT-2 destroyed, the enemy had now once more seized firing and it's retinue of 'Ogres' begun to slowly make their way over to the Mithril, weapons trained on the three remaining IAFS mechs.
"Th-th- they-" Guaran muttered.
"Why have they stopped shooting?" Wiseman cut in, an edge of fear to her voice too.
For a moment the trio of machines held silently in the air, the faint buzzing of the comms operator on the ship's bridge, still telling them to retreat back closer to the ship.
Without a word Bela moved her Heavy-Vijaik over to Guaran's, grabbing from it his bazooka.
Taking a deep breath, her mind suddenly filled with the familiar sensation of adrenaline, 'Bela' turned her machine to face the now encroaching Casnel 'Unit 04'.
With one hand she reached to a small, glove-box like compartment within her cockpit, pressing it open she drew out a discoloured glass-syringe - The other hand she used to active her connection to the bridge and her remaining squad-mates.
That done she also flicked open a sealed section on her control panel and begin disabling her machines 'safety-limiters', yanking cables one way before plugging them in somewhere new with a deft keenness.
With something akin to a wolf's grin on her face Bela slammed the injection down hard into herself;
"Negative bridge, no way your go'nna escape like that and like heck am I gonna let those bastards kill my subordinates so carelessly. We'll make the opening, you get the Mithril underway!"
'Bela' bellowed into her mic before closing her link to the bridge entirely.
"You two - Concentrate your firing on the one with 'five' written on its shoulder, then go guard the ship, clear?"
Not waiting for a response, the Lt.Commander and her red machine, surged forward.
****
Bela's Heavy-Vijaik moved ahead at an alarming rate, far higher than the regular speed for such a large machine, the G-force ever intensifying inside.
As it did, she let loose two duos of rockets from the shoulder mounted bazookas in unit 04's direction. Behind her the other two remaining members of the Mithril's mech team also fired their own weapons at unit 05 as instructed.
Both Casnels handily blocked the first set of impacts with their shields but the dust and spray of the attacks made it impossible for either to fire accurately on Bela's rapid approach.
After firing a second time, Bela tossed aside the two launchers, the distance now closing between her and her prey.
Said enemies had clearly not expected such a ferocious onslaught, as the second set of rockets carried straight past the already stricken shield and into the torso section of the machine, as it in turn tried to take aim at Bela.
Of course it's Goibniu-dense armour held as though untouched, but the impact caused the mech to float backwards off it's balance. There was no time for Casnel-04 to get said balance back as through the massive cloud of Bazooka shell-debris, came the red Heavy Vijaik.
Making use of all her momentum, Bela pulled back hard on the control levers and threw the machine into something of a cart wheel, with it's bulky left knee and leg colliding into the Casnel in an almighty show of brute-force.
Despite this further impact, the Casnel pilot had finally regained their footing and raised an impressive energy rifle in Bela's direction -Firing a rapid slew of pale red attacks. Bela however was faster.
Punching her unrestricted boosters all into reverse, she shot downwards underneath the enemy's line of fire - Then she surged forward as the Casnel desperately tried to track her blinding movements with it's shots.
Now swinging behind it Bela drew forth one of her machine's two 'Arc-Staffs' and charged forward holding the thin blade of plasma energy, moving at full throttle. The Casnel was fast and of much higher specifications - But its pilot, now thoroughly confused and disorientated, was no match for Bela's unorthodox style.
Her sword-like weapon grazed across the already damaged chest armour of the Casnel, as it rapidly attempted to turn and face its opponent. The strike didn't quite causing an explosion but was atleast enough to pierce some of enemies outer layer of armour.
The Arc-Staff continued on into the Casnel's outstretched arm, slicing it and the riffle clean off - Through the ensuing explosion Bela was also forced to release her first Arc-Staff.
To her it had been a sacrifice well worth it to disarm her opponent's powerful weapon.
Unit 4's pilot now desperate to turn things around, slammed on his own thruster pack, pushing his machine away from the rampaging Vijaik and than attempting to fire it's two head mounted machine cannon - But Bela had other ideas.
Before her swing against the Casnel's arm was even complete, she had already begun to accelerate forward, keeping her mech's stocky head low, she moved in past the helpless line of cannon fire - Effectively ducking beneath it despite the large size of her machine - And now reaching her left arm upwards - Grabbed the Casnel's solemn face in the Heavy-Vijaik's metal palm - Bela took her chance.
The hefty fingers of the machine groaned hideously under the un-restricted strain of force Bela compelled the machine to place on them, one of the machine cannons on the Casnel's head being literally crushed helplessly in the process - The other surviving as the Vijaik's other fingers fell limp from the overexertion.
This would all prove overall inconsequential however, as Bela pressed down hard against the two firing triggers to either side of her.
While the Casnel pilot fumbled around to grab its sword with a remaining hand, (The pilot clearly inexperienced at ambidextrous combat) the red-Vijaik's two massive machine guns obeyed their lady's heed, flipping over with a hefty 'clunk' to face directly and precisely at the Casnel's torso region.
More accurately where Bela had already hit with the Bazooka, her well timed kick and even with the Arc-Staff.
The rally of fire successfully penetrated into the tiny gap her tirade had provided in the armour, and out into the cockpit. As the machine guns handily tore away at the enemy's centre.
Before long the Casnel's limbs drifted limply, as the pilot drew his final breath. Bela gave one final thrust of her right arm to push the lifeless enemy machine away as it sparkled through space, floating lifelessly as red globules spread out for the jet black torso armour.
Her breathing was now laboured and she stared momentarily down at her hands, watching them shake viscously, she began to feel the drawbacks of her earlier dosage. She fumbled around in the cockpits, searching for another syringeful - When suddenly her machine juddered violently, causing Bela to be slammed back into her seat and the range of syringes to float aimlessly out of their container and across the cockpit.
"Time for Round two already then?"
Bela muttered almost jubilantly, grinning manically to herself.