The Reaper’s Legion

Chapter 133

-Adira Maxwell P.O.V.-

For what felt like the hundredth time today, I cursed the name of Mary Morrison. She knew damn well that the Leviathan Brigade was prepping for another hunt, and would be ready to embark the day after tomorrow. Under normal circumstances, whatever brass wanted would have conveniently been lost in the minutiae of command and regrettably never would have reached me.

Unfortunately, Mary was the only person who I actually took any kind of orders from. She was one of the few commanders that I felt were more than worth their salt, and the type of person that would keep an eye on your interests even without you asking. That was fair, considering that I’d saved her life several times now.

Here in the belly of the crawler, I couldn’t help but glance over to the now firmly aged mech, safely harnessed and shackled into the storage bay built for it. I still saw the paint where Mary had generously endowed the thing with many torpedo pods, a half dozen heavy harpoons, and a few heavy machine guns for above water and shallow water use. That was before we’d even actually had the crawlers, honestly, and in the first months of the Obelisks' arrival, we’d all done good work.

At the time, there were ten of us. Now, there were eight of us left, three of which now inserted in various parts of Basilisk to keep them honest. The remaining five, my core crew, were with me now.

They helped keep the larger Brigade in line, given that we were now a couple hundred strong.

“So, Mary said something else about our new friend?” Lou’s voice sounded in my ear, headset pressed to my jawbone.

I shrugged, even knowing he couldn’t see, “Just that he was an unusual sort.”

“What she means,” Nana picked up, “is that the boy is our kind of person.”

In spite of myself, I couldn’t help but smirk. Nana Pain, though that wasn’t her real name, was like your favorite grandma, who also happened to be able to pilot a mech like the best of us.

My smirk fell away as I once more wondered what we’d have to deal with. Mary was especially mum on the details this time around, stating that our neighbor from down South had a confidential mission that they needed to get through Basilisk territory for. I knew she had a good sense for character, and that she was almost definitely skirting around Central’s authority with this, but I almost wondered if that was a good idea, given the situation.

We knew very little about our neighbors, aside from the fact that their growth in terms of sheer area was lower than ours. But, their forces were nothing to scoff at. Occasionally, we’d spied some of their troops mobilized against biotics, just a few of our drones and scouts having poked around. In the area around Sunvilla, we were aware that they were systematically annihilating any biotic that was in the way, and going so far as to cordon off entire areas where known hives were.

Not out of fear, but to regularly harvest them.

I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Our Leviathan’s had proven to be implacable, a constant stream, more or less, that operated like clockwork. Granted, their pace did pick up occasionally, and they were stronger and stronger as time went on, but we outpaced the majority of them.

We didn’t know where their hives were, or, rather, we suspected their hives were in deep-sea, out of our reach.

Or, was out of our reach. Our technology had advanced such that in the last month we’d cleared several hives. None of them, however, seemed to belong to Leviathan, oddly enough.

But I don’t think I would want any active hives in my backyard. No more intel was available on their deeper territories, though, so perhaps that was an isolated case?

Sunvilla hadn’t exactly been under the best care and management before the Legion had moved in. Quite in fact, Basilisk had considered moving down south, before Central decided to consolidate power instead.

I was proud of everything that we’d accomplished, about all of the people that were more than willing to answer the call, to help eachother out. Central, for as bureaucratic as they could be sometimes, did genuinely have the best interests of the people in mind, not the other way around. Some bad seeds had shown up of late, but they were finding pressure mounting on them. I doubted that they’d last much longer.

“Alright, we’re approaching the compound,” Lou broke me from my reverie, “an-holy shit. That’s a lot of people.”

I frowned, mentally commanding the nearest displays to show camera feeds from outside. The crawler bore several such feeds, designed to be an amphibious vehicle that could serve as an emergency docking station if pressed. Any given crawler was a large, lumbering thing, but looking at the black, obsidian skinned transports that the Legion had come in made me realize that, perhaps, our crawlers weren’t so special.

The black, ugly transports had a certain rugged quality that spoke volumes as to what they were designed to move through. These were workhorses, purpose bred to move through anything that got in their way. I appreciated the designs, the quality certainly a cut above what most of the brigades bothered with.

If there was anything that would speak to me of the spirit of this organization, it would be how they outfitted their grunts. And I found I was far from disappointed.

Individuals walked around, freely adorned in some kind of mesh suit, or exo suit. They weren’t on duty, either, telling me that this equipment was likely customized.

‘No, definitely customized,’ I corrected myself, seeing a group adorning their power armors, each different from the next, flexing synthetic muscle and cold steel.

Zack whistled, “daamn, I thought we were escorting, like, one team.”

I grunted at that, remembering why we were here. “Mary, the hell are you thinking?” I murmured to myself, keeping the comment off the comms. We didn’t have the time or resources to babysit an army on the best of days. If we had to vet them to make sure they were combat ready? Forget about it, we may as well stay in port.

Just then, I heard a chime in my ear, and watched a notification bounce in the corner of my vision. Mary was calling. Again.

“Woman, I told you we’d get here when we get here,” I answered the line, “we’re toting tons of hardware in the crawlers, what do you want from me?”

Mary Morrison took a moment to collect herself, I could tell by the way she inhaled a long breath, and realized she was most certainly not in friend mode.

This was Commander Morrison mode.

‘Fuck me. Did she get in trouble?’ I grimaced, eyes scanning the group to see if there were any signs of wariness. Yet, no matter where I looked, the Legion seemed fairly content to be sitting in place.

“Adira Maxwell,” Morrison started, and I felt my grimace tighten.

‘Here’s the Mom voice.’ I refrained from rolling my eyes, fearing she could somehow tell from her distant position.

“I shouldn’t need to remind you that I am well aware of how long it should take to move equipment. Specifically, that you could have taken any other crawler and gotten here far faster.” Morrison’s tense voice leaked a tinge of annoyance, “Why in the depths did you bring all of your gear with you?”

“It’s not all of it,” the flippant line lept from my lips before I could snatch it back, but I quickly rolled forward nonetheless, “besides, I don’t go anywhere without my mech. I’m Kaiju, after all.”

There was a very distinct, helpless sigh on the other side of the comms, “You and your mech…” I could practically hear her shaking her head.

Prudently, I decided it might be good to get a bit more information on the situation, “Did they give you any trouble?”

She huffed, knowing I was trying to change the topic, but didn’t mind, “No, exactly the opposite. They’ve been very accommodating. The Legion has even respected my request to pack themselves like sardine cans into the yard.”

“Ah,” I answered lamely, “well, that’s good.”

“Right.” Mary’s dry answer came, and her tone changed, more familiar, telling me that Commander Morrison was going away. “Adi, seriously, I need your help here.”

I cringed as she used the nickname, “Easy, easy, I’m still helping. You never even told me what’s up.”

“It’d be better to explain in person,” she said, and I could just about imagine her chew at her cheek in thought.

“Well, we’re a minute from the garage-” I paused, “-the garage still exists, right?”

“It’s been expanded, the same spot as before. Might be a few Ogre’s in the way, though.”

“Ogre?”

“The Legion traveling vehicle,” Mary answered, “apt name, I’d say.”

“Very,” I chuckled, “see you in a minute.”

“Remember, official attire.” She warned.

I rolled my eyes, unable to stop myself, “Look, I don’t think that matters, right?”

“Oh, it’s not for Legion,” she stated quickly, “Matthew seems to care very, very little about decorum and politics.”

‘Good to know, also, first name basis?’ The thought snapped through my head as I questioned, “So, why do I need to be dressed up?”

“Maybe I just like to see you uncomfortable. That’s an order, by the way.” Mary’s voice carried her smirk across the airwaves.

“Fine, fine… But you’d better get me something nice, you hear?” I could just imagine getting a fission engine for our destroyer.

“No promises,” she chuckled, “see you soon.”

It didn’t take much longer for us to get to the garage, but it did take extra time to at least resemble something professional. My long, white hair, silvered slightly from an advanced anti-radiation treatment that I’d undergone, was currently allowed to hang loosely across my back. In the mirror, the pale skinned woman I saw barely resembled the woman I once knew. Cobalt blue eyes, rounded chin, button nose, I could certainly be called attractive, and had been propositioned more times than I cared to admit in the post apocalypse. I stood back, admiring my toned body.

Before the apocalypse, I hadn’t gone outside much and certainly hadn’t had cause to exercise as much as I had. My slim frame was tight with lean muscle, and the scar that stretched from my upper left shoulder and down across my belly reminded me every day of what happens if you don’t respect your enemy. I still had the steel plate, Kaiju having undergone many adaptations in that time.

As I dressed, I heard the mewling of a curious creature that I’d run across during one shallow water mission. The creature was a pseudo-biotic, small, and with fur that was silky smooth. If I had to estimate, I’d put it somewhere between a cat, fox, and otter. The white fur of the arm-length creature shifted as she patiently waited for me to dress myself.

“Alright, Cocoa, come here,” I gestured, and no sooner than I’d done so did the creature bound through the air effortlessly, landing and curling around my shoulders and neck with a nuzzle under my chin.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

‘Food?’ I heard the voice in my head, sniffing at the pocket of my vest.

I laughed, pulling open the pocket as Cocoa nipped a chunk of chocolate from a bar hidden within. Her namesake, after all, was literal.

“Remember, behave. We don’t want another incident.” I gently chided the creature, remembering when Cocoa had fluffed up and promptly face-tackled someone that had come from Sunvilla. I very lightly remembered the fools name, only that he was sleazily trying to ingratiate himself with everyone that he could.

‘Benny? Ben? Benjamin? Something or other,’ I dismissed the thought, the man was a prick, along with his friend and his people.

Idly, I considered equipping my pistol, and perhaps my blade, but I decided that would be inappropriate. Also, not likely necessary. I highly doubted some desk-guy would be able to outfight me.

‘Underestimating is bad,’ I heard the reminder from Cocoa, and couldn’t help but let loose another deep sigh. Imagine what I’d seen outside, a mobile force with very good equipment, customized gear, and what little I knew of the Legion surging to the forefront of my mind. I holstered the pistol, sword, and also a flash-bomb, just in case. It could be considered rude, but I didn’t care what others considered rude. Cocoa was right, and the next time I underestimate something might well be the last time.

With that, I moved out, my team occupying themselves with their gear and whatever news they might have wanted to peruse. The sheer population Basilisk reigned over had given us a great deal of things, not excluding general entertainment. Sometimes, I was worried that people might regress to what we’d been doing before. But, luckily, entertainment hadn’t taken over our lives the same way it had. News wasn’t sensationalized, but it was emphasized depending on who you were, and what you might consider relevant. Overall, I appreciated our system very much, and whenever we ran into another city, they tended to voluntarily submit themselves to the fold. Safety, convenience, and an homage to how the world was got us a lot of traction.

It also led to a lot of obnoxious complaints, like “Why is my package late?” or “When is this road getting repaired?”

Considering the fact that there were still biotics the size of a four story building in the ocean, and god knows what else on land, I figured that those questions were ridiculous at best.

‘First-world problems?’ I contemplated the phrase, ‘eh, close enough. Post-world problems? Is that better?’

I schooled my features to a professional slate, the guards stepping aside as I entered. Most of them knew me, but I could hear one of them comment with disbelief that the Kaiju was here.

It still tickled me that people called me and my mech Kaiju, but I supposed that was fine. We were like an ocean-monster, so that was fair enough. Plus, the fame had its perks. I like people just fine, so being able to walk into a room and immediately be on everyone's good side helped tremendously as an ice-breaker.

When I arrived at the door, the guard knocked for me.

“Come in,” Morrison didn’t even bother asking who it was, likely aware of the camera feed most of the time.

I walked in, the guard shutting the door behind me. Even so, decorum demanded at least a minimum of respect. Smoothly, I brought my right fist, clasped, and placed it over my heart, heels together, and did the Basilisk salute.

“Adira ‘Kaiju’ Maxwell, reporting.” I stated, watching as Mary nodded to me.

“At ease,” her words let me abandon the stuffy posture and bland expressions, “we’re going to be brief, but is there anything you need to talk about first?”

She met my gaze, and for a second I felt a touch of warmth, “Not this time. No nightmares lately, so that’s good.”

She nodded, “Good. You know, if you ever do need to talk, you can just let me know.”

“Yeah, I know,” I tilted my head, “come on, you know I harass you every time I get the chance.”

She snorted, “True enough.”

Cocoa decided then was the time to interject, making some kind of cat-fox call at Mary. She chuckled, moving closer and giving the furry little creature some chin scritches. “Nice to see you too, Cocoa.”

“So, about the guy?” A broad grin sprouted on my features, “You’re on a first name basis, eh?”

She rolled her eyes at my suggestive eyebrow wiggles, “He’s a good guy, so far. But I assure you we’re perfectly professional for the most part.”

Mary realized the error in her words the moment they left her mouth, and narrowed her eyes at Adira in warning and crossed her arms over her chest.

A gesture which Adira promptly ignored, “Most part, eh? Well, good, good, lemme know how that goes.”

“Adira, you little brat,” Mary tried to muster her best annoyed face, but couldn’t manage it past the smile, “anyways, lets go over some details here. Remember, this is confidential, tell only those that need to know.”

“Roger that,” I nodded, having enjoyed teasing her. It didn’t really matter what the content was, I just felt like teasing Mary anytime I talked to her, at least once. Let her know that the dynamic never changed, that she was, and would always be, one of my team.

Morrison’s posture changed subtly, and I remembered once more the difference between the laid back and easy going Mary, and the Commander she now was.

“The Legion has come en force with the intent to take over a location off the mainland,” she started with the bomb drop, “this is, ostensibly, a good thing for Basilisk as well.”

“Okay, time.” I put my hands up, “Why?”

Her eyes flicked up to me, “Getting to that. But, the issue in this is that they have a veritable army. They’re not sure what to expect, from what I gather, and so are leaning towards a more approach. Obviously, we can’t just have a foreign military marching through our territory without some kind of official response.” At that, she leveled her gaze to me.

“Ah, so you were serious when you said escort work,” I nodded, “so, not really babysitting?”

She shook her head, “they were worried about you slowing them down, actually. And, given the state of your crawler…” she let a slight grin loose before it vanished, replaced by the stern mask of officiality, “regardless, I have no reason to believe that they won’t be capable.”

I nodded, “So long as they’re willing to play by our orders, I’m alright with this.”

Morrison grimaced at that.

“Oh, you didn’t!?” I bawled, “C’mon, Mary! It’s our boat! How are you gonna tell me that I have to take orders from them when they’ll be on my boat?”

“Listen to the rest of the situation first. And I’m serious,” she sat down, “don’t tell a damn person who doesn’t need to know about this, alright?”

I was about to keep complaining when I registered a flicker of something else on her features.

Concern, or wariness. That hadn’t happened since just before we lost Tom.

“I’m listening.” All traces of humor receded, my attention firmly set on Mary.

Satisfied that I was taking this seriously, she began, “Our western neighbors, how much do you know about them?”

I blinked at that, “UGC and NG?” She nodded, “they’re both bureaucratic bodies from the pre-biotic era, I mean, they’re just… the old governments?” I shrugged helplessly at that, “I don’t pay much attention to them, or politics, I just kill Leviathans.”

Mary nodded at that, “Well, they’re absorbing other territories, rapidly. They tend to shuffle around populations to displace them, and for a while now Basilisk has been trying to figure out how to deal with them. I have the feeling that Central was going to test them, see if they’re really strong enough to rival them, and if not, then Basilisk becomes the new head-honcho. We’d have maybe had to deal with the south - Legion, rather - but with new information provided by our neighbors, I can say that I’m glad Central decided on a non-interaction stance with Legion.”

My frown told her everything she needed to know on how much I wasn’t following the conversation.

“Legion has discovered that the orbital defense network is still operational. Central suspects that UGC and NG are struggling for control of the network, otherwise they’d have leveraged the other out of power.” She waved her hand in the air, “at least, that’s the popular opinion in Central. Some think that the Legion’s misinforming us to put our guard up against them. But, I highly doubt that Matthew cares either way.”

“As for why they’re here,” she pointed out a holographic map, “there’s an island off the coast that he’s needing to get to. This island, supposedly, has an installation that can allow access to the satellite network without said satellites self-destructing.”

“That spot? Are you serious?” I glared at the map, and back to Mary.

She nodded solemnly, “The very same. That’s why I asked for you.”

A cold knot twirled in my gut, and Cocoa cooed and purred around my neck, sensing my distress. “Five expeditions, Mary,” I met her gaze, “Basilisk has led five expeditions into the red zone. We can’t claim that thrice damned area.”

She shook her head, “The last time we tried was over a year ago. You and I both know that when we led the first that it was poorly equipped.” Mary looked sadly at the jeweled ring on her hand, “But if we had what we have now, back then?”

Sadness crept across my expression as I reached over, planting a hand over hers, covering the ring, “Mary, I’m not just asking you as a friend. Is this worth it?”

For a second, I saw the old Mary, lost and confused, looking at me for all her bewildered focus.

And then I saw her determination rise, and her weariness evaporated, “If what the Legion says is true, then we’ll need that installation. It might not even be manned.”

I nodded, for a moment wondering if we could get through the air.

But then I remembered the fact that the air over the ocean no longer remotely belonged to us, and turned my attention back to the water.

“Alright.” I said finally, “I don’t like this, but I’ll do this. Because it’s you.”

Before Mary could thank me, though, I interrupted, “But I am going to meet this guy. I’m not taking orders from him on my boat.”

Mary shook her head, “Well, that’s good, because I’m sure that he’s been waiting outside for a while now.”

We clarified a few points, but overall there wasn’t much more that we knew. The Legion, however, would be effectively on loan to us for the duration. I’d need to make sure they could fight Leviathan at least moderately, otherwise our voyage into the red zone wasn’t going to happen.

Regardless of our tools, I had no illusions that the red zone was going to be a slog through watery hell.

A knock at the door sounded then, and Mary straightened. Shooting a glance at me, I rolled my eyes and assumed a more official posture.

“Matthew Reaper is here, Ma’am,” one of the guards posted outside said.

I shot Mary a sideways glance and whispered, “Reaper? His last name is Reaper?”

“You’re named Kaiju.” She flipped me a flat glare before turning her attention back to the door, “Enter.”

The door swung open, and for a moment I felt my heart halt for a moment, my eyes widening in surprise. The man had red eyes, and what almost appeared to be nearly steel-grey skin. It more closely resembled obsidian, though, and I couldn’t help but stare.

He was an oddity, and my brain flagged as I tried to parse what I was actually looking at. I’d seen my fair share of advanced prosthetics, but if I didn’t know better, I’d say this guy was closer to being a very, very, humanlike robot. His eyes glanced over me, settling for the briefest of moments on my hair, and then ratcheting onto Cocoa.

Cocoa, for her usual coldness to people, actually met his gaze in what appeared to be curiosity.

“Huh, a pseudo-biotic. What’s your name?” The man’s words nearly caused me to have a stroke.

“She’s Cocoa,” I answered automatically.

To my surprise, the man frowned, “Can she not talk?”

‘Oh, holy shit, he knows about them?’ I felt my estimation of whoever this was rise several degrees. This guy might actually be competent.

“My name is Cocoa,” the creature spoke, “you know my kind?”

The man chuckled, looking to a likewise surprised Commander Morrison, “A friend of mine, yes. Let me introduce myself officially, my name is Matthew Reaper, leader of The Reaper’s Legion.” He extended a hand to me, a very fine suit adorning his body.

Not just a fancy suit, either, but one that I recognized was subtly bulkier than what would be normal. I doubted, immediately, that it was only bullet-proof. I'd seen mesh armor, but even I could barely tell that the suit he was wearing was one such thing.

I wanted one.

“Adira ‘Kaiju’ Maxwell,” I introduced myself with my nickname automatically, noting the quirk of his brow as I did so, “so far a pleasant surprise to meet you.”

I could just about feel Mary cringe at that.

The man clasped my hand, the feel of his skin warm, but less than what a human should have. If he took offense, he showed none of it, “Likewise.”

We stepped back from each other, but there was a moment of appraisal that went beyond the greeting.

“I’m told that Morrison already briefed you?” He asked, to which I nodded, “Good. Let’s get into details. I want to know more about your unit, and I’m sure you likewise want to know about us.”

‘Finally, no bullshit,’ I nearly breathed in relief, sitting myself down at the table, Mary giving up on any sense of officiality. “Good. First off, my unit is the Leviathan Brigade, we’re about two, to three thousand in members. We possess five destroyers, hundreds of mechs designed for amphibious combat, but we lean more towards underwater encounters. As most of our quarry are deep-sea borne, that’s our specialty.”

I watched as his expression went through several changes, settling on thoughtful, “hmm… Underwater. That’ll be interesting.” He said, less like it was an issue, and more of a challenge, something that I appreciated in a fellow commander, “We number about a thousand. Our convoy is adaptable, Ogre’s can be used amphibiously. But, they’re not outfitted beyond surface and shallow water combat. We’ve got plenty of mechs and power armor units as well, and we have modular technology to allow for the adaptation. Do you have more defined information on these Leviathan? I presume they’re the prime biotic of the area.”

We continued speaking on the topic, and at one point Mary excused herself, declaring that food would be delivered shortly.

What I was the most thankful of, though, was the fact that, just maybe, the Legion wouldn’t be too bad to have around after all.