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Front 9.4; 'That' Girl
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Moncha 'stormed' down the silver corridors of the Curadh - It struck him that he had spent a considerable portion of his life in these endless, characterless, humming walkways and usually that didn't much bother him.
He liked to think he was an approachable sort of officer, usually he would walk in the company of one of his subordinates, although currently all of those were under a 'voluntary' confinement to barracks, except of course Miss.Falc...
Then there would be the passer-bys, people he barely knew who he could stop and have a pleasant conversation with, complaining about budget cuts in the canteen or talking about family back home - But not today, no indeed Moncha knew he needed no mirror to see why no one was stopping him for a chat today. He was well aware why people were hugging the corridor walls or steeping into random rooms just to clear his path - Moncha was very pissed.
He knew it wasn't entirely justified, but it had taken all his will power not to take up arms, to forcefully refuse the Captain's orders. In truth he was well aware that really he was pissed at the people back home, at whatever armchair-bound admiral had issued their current hairbrained orders.
Everything should of been simple, they had been ordered to destroy a repair vessel called The Clover owned by the private company Bayley Mechanics. Everyone knew Bayley was one of IAFS's largest financial sponsors, yet TSU refused to act against the company for a few reasons - The biggest being Bayley's massive monopoly on machine parts and processors used not only in IAFS's machines but also in TSU's - Then there were stock-markets and economies to consider....
Instead the Curadh would secretly, with no witnesses, destroy this 'Clover' vessel sending one hell of a message to Bayley to back off - 'It should of been that simple...'
But then IAFS had turned up, protected the Clover and forced Helt's Casnel to retreat - Following this the enemy group had somehow managed to track the Curadh, no matter how many times they changed course, the IAFS flotilla always followed, just barely outside of combat range.
That hadn't been too big a problem, they would just head home - Moncha was also well aware the crew were all well overdue a vacation, so they'd simply head towards the TSU-s headquarters near Abhaile, let the main fleet deal with their pursuers, easy. And yet to everyone's dismay the Admiralty had a different idea - They had suggested the Curadh make use of the pursing fleet for further tests.
Apparently Falc's 'Diamond' was made for in-atmosphere combat, Apparently the abandoned Station 9.3 would make for the perfect testing grounds and Apparently the experiment would require Falc be deployed alone for the best and most acute results.
It made Moncha sick, it was stupid - Falc had never flown a single real combat mission - Sure he was confident he and his squad could easily defeat a legion of IAFS Neo's, customised or not but he had to acknowledged the raw tenacity of the squad that had fought against Helt in the last battle. He was sure He could beat them, but Falc? On her first ever mission?
'Insanity, just stupidity'.
He knew full-well all these thoughts were painting his expression as he crossed through the threshold and past the automatic door leading onto the ship's bridge.
It was a space that showed its age maybe the most of anywhere on the vessel - Before the First-War many ships had prescribed to some rather old fashioned construction methods, after all no one but TSU had ever had the capital or power to make space-fairing warships, there had never been a war in space. This had lead to most pre-war ships looking almost like they had been designed for use in water, in fact some even had been, with a bridge proudly positioned in the best vantage point - This had lead to dozens, if not hundreds of First-War ship's getting obliterated by lone Vijaiks simply getting close enough to blast a hole in the oversized windows of these control rooms.
If the blast itself didn't kill the bridge crew, then the sudden depressurisation would.
The Curadh was constructed during the war so wasn't quite this vulnerable - The bridge was much smaller than those old TSU designs and with rolling armour shutters to cover the already 'bullet-proof' windows during combat - Nonetheless the carry over was obvious. If the Curadh had a Sphinx like shape, then the bridge was located right in the head of that creature, with no ability to be retracted.
Inside from Moncha's perspective it was a large semi circle with tall ceilings and windows along the curved section that stretched from floor to roof. Against the flat back of the circle on a large raised chair sat the Captain, her elevated height making her even more imposing then normal.
Around her in even intervals, sat the terminals of the bridge's various officers. An older man with a buzzcut and his arms folded neatly behind his back, turned at the faint hiss of the door sliding open. Moncha quickly raised the palm of one hand before the man could announce his presence.
The XO shrugged dismissively, turning his attention back to overseeing the various monitors, while Moncha quietly made his way to stand next to the Captain's raised chair, his head about level with her neck.
"Ma'am." He muttered.
"Major, so good of you to join us." She said back, with no hint of her own emotions showing.
Moncha hated knowing that all his complaints and reports were no different to young Helt coming to ask him about the mission. Like he had done with Helt, the Captain would fob him off - After all like Moncha, she had to be seen in command in front of her subordinates.
In reality he knew that the simmering disappointment he currently felt towards the Captain really was unwarranted, that she too was just following orders she also probably disliked - But that didn't make him feel any better about the situation.
"Why order me to the bridge Ma'am? Why not 'volunteer' me to the barracks with the others? Want to keep a personal eye on me is it?"
Moncha borderline growled.
Captain Marie Synapse didn't so much as flinch, her hands resting on the arms of her chair, her cold blue eyes focused narrowly on the world outside the bridge's windows;
"You would of come here regardless of what I said Major, I would rather ask for your professional opinions as issues arise, rather than have you storming into here without my permission part way through the engagement."
Moncha scowled, turning to observe the sight the Captain was so fixed on - A few hundred metres in front of the ship's windows held in the air what they were all so worked up about - The Diamond-Class Fortress - The crystal blue dome that had lay atop it for training was now gone and in its place was the torso of a more regular looking mech. Beneath this torso had remained the same as in the hangar, the large black metal squares that rotated and shifted in preparation for battle.
The shape of the core body was in Moncha's opinion hard to look at - It was constantly shifting, sleek angular lines rolled and sliding square surfaces split into narrow triangles - Both with a reflective crystalline texture but also clear rugged armour plating.
'Diamond' was simply its name, no one shape could adequately describe the massive dark mass - So large was it that the mech torso sitting atop it looked down right small.
https://i.imgur.com/o5DnhV4.jpg [Diamond Fortress Sketch]
Moncha turned and directed his voice towards the XO standing a few paces in front of him, "Progress Lieutenant-Commander?"
The XO nodded in Moncha's direction and began to read from his wrist-handheld screen;
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"Sync rate is nominal, power fluctuation remaining at a minimum - The IAFS fleet has followed our predicted course and surrounded the exterior of the Nation-State. We detected a small group entering the Northern dock a few hours ago before losing radar in there - We can presume they've taken the bait and this recon group will soon be making its way inside the city, Sir"
The man rattled off with a machine-like focus on detail.
Moncha nodded back to let the man know that would be all, before turning his attentions back to the Captain, finally ready to try one last strategy with his old comrade - "Any last minute change of heart?"
Synapse shock her head lightly, "Your complaints have been logged, no change to the plan - Orders are final Major."
"You know, I bet your father wouldn't of gone through with this - He knew when to ignore a foolish mistake on the part of the higher ups."
"Oh did he now? And what did that get him but the chopping block?" Synapse said back, her voice a little higher then she had intended.
An awkward chill spread throughout the room, all talk stopped and the dead air was filled with solely the noise of keyboard tapping.
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In a whisper Moncha replied;
"He died for what he believed in - We should all be so lucky."
The Captain did not respond to the comment.
Moncha was about to press the attack when an interruption seized his attempts - "Ma'am Unit 5's neural activity is increasing, the petty officer is getting ready to attack Captain!" Said an excited but still composed officer's voice from the bank of communications computers to the right of the room.
Synapse and Moncha both looked in that direction, the Captain spoke fast and with clear precision;
"Very well, raise the ship alert, battle will be commencing imminently - Coxen have us set down within the cover of the city's buildings - I want all recording equipment up and running now, we do not miss a single scrap of that data, Understood?!"
There was a series of affirmations and the XO began to repeat the orders as per protocol.
The Captain nodded, straightened her cap minorly before turned back to the communication's-Operator - "Put me through to the petty officer, make it quick."
Moncha slinked back away from the Captain's chair a few paces, leaning his back against the rear wall of the room resignedly - 'We're really doing this, deploying a lone girl with experimental powers we don't fully understand, in an prototype machine that hasn't been properly tested, against a full squadron of enemy pros - Whatever happens now, happens - May God forgive us...'
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"Petty Officer Falk reporting in Captain ma'am, all systems functioning, I can sense them coming - Alignment in progress.... She's coming."
The soft voice of Falc said as calmly as she could into her microphone.
She wasn't nervous per-se, thus far nothing had felt any different to regular training. She was laid back, partially strapped down, screens hung no more then 50 centimeters or so from her face, around her the machinery coolly hummed. The cabin space didn't mean alot to her, she knew it was smaller then even a regular Vijaik's but what did that matter?
All that would be different today, was the image on the monitor screen would be of real enemies rather than simulations, that was all.
'She', that was wrong of her to say - She knew that but had said it anyway. The doctors constantly reminded her that there was no other person in her consciousness, she did not suffer from any form of multiple-personality disorder, rather something more akin to 'Associative Dissonances'.
When the machine found its target, no when 'she' found a target, her mind would being working with the machine in sync - She understood the theory, right now it was happening, parts of her brain being put to a sort of gentle sleep. Her smell usually went first, than taste and touch - In longer uses of the power her hearing would fade as well - Unnecessary, she was told, her powers could be amplified by allowing the brain more room to process, they said.
But it felt like a long slow death, a fog rolling across her mind and obscuring everything - Falc often wondered if she was a Magi at all or if it was all 'the other girl' - She had faint memories, so very faint now, of her time before the navy - Memories of being able to sense small things but nothing like what the girl could do. Even now as Falc held on by a thread to her own thoughts, she could feel the girl's power overcoming her - Her vision felt blurred and buried but her sense, that sense, came alive - She could see the enemy where they were not - See the shutter door raising in front of her before it ever did, see what her machine's radars and sensors all couldn't, detect everything and so much more.
See every paving stone of the city all at once, sense the number of windows, feel the movement of electricity from solar panel to generator - Trace that back to UV rays flying past planetary bodies through an endless night sky, see the sun--
"Good luck out there Falc!!"
The words had been suddenly shouted over the radio, she recognised major Moncha's voice - Her face turned to a faint smile, her thoughts were always simpler at times like this, she could feel more complicated ideas slipping away, her memory of just moments ago dissipating, leaving only truths - She liked Moncha, he seemed honest and kind to her.
She was pretty sure he liked her back as a sort of daughter perhaps.
She wondered what that meant, or whether she was meant to have a word for that feeling - Whether feelings were still vital.
She wondered...
"4 Enemies, type V-MBT-NEO-Cs, estimate time to fire, 60 seconds."
Said a cold, distant, dry voice.
"Roger Unit 5, take the shot when ready." Replied what seemed to be a far off radio.
Of course she would of done that regardless, she had little care for what the disembodied voices said.
She could detect something off, her surroundings appeared slightly different to normal.
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"Love?"
The empty voice said to no one in particular.
It wondered who had said it, or perhaps thought it - For her there was little difference.
She closed her eyes, she never could understand why they sometimes opened - She had no use for them, as she had no hands or legs to act on. No smell or touch or taste - She existed and that was all - All was distinct, all she must do was think and the enemy would disappear.
That was all there was to it.
"30 Seconds."
She couldn't remember why she spoke aloud sometimes and not others, she simply did.
"10 seconds"
She fired - A roller-shutter door miles away collapsed in on itself, four massive holes bulging and forming - The machines inside dodged.
That girl opened her eyes - All logic indicted her shot should of destroyed atleast 3 of the targets, the mathematics were definitive.
"--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------"
"Unit 5, unit 5 come in?!"
"Report."
"Unit 5?!"
"--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------"
"Enemy is on the move ma'am, they've entered the city!"
"Ma'am, unit five's vitals are droping, brain scan suggest sh- she, it doesn't make sense?!"
"Speak man, What?"
"Brain dead ma'am, everything says her brain just stopped the second after her attack missed, like a coma or something?"
"-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------"
"Is that possible?"
"Let me go to her!"
"Silence Major, Comms what's Simmens saying?"
"She says it'll be fine, it's good data to see how long it takes to break out of it or something? Apologies ma'am, she seems very...excited."
"That blasted woman. Have we a trace on the enemy units yet?"
Movement. Shoot.
"No Ma'am, the North dock is still blocking com-- Fire, Repeat Fire! Unit 5 just fired a single shot!"
"Unit 5?! Can you hear us, are you operational?!"
"I'm going, this is ridiculous, I'll stop this before it gets anymore weird!"
"Stay right where you are Moncha!"
'Moncha?'
"What the?"
"You seeing this too, Willis?"
"Captain?"
"Why is that Neo just standing there out in the open like that?"
"Unit 5, shoot now God-damn it, shoot!!"
'Enemy, Shoot.'
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