Wounded Legion: a mech LitRPG novel (Armored Souls Book 2)

by Xavier P. Hunter

  “Got it,” Nordbrook replied. “J-90.”

  “I’ll be in position in a sec,” Harper radioed. So chipper. So quick in that Chipmunk. It was 5kph below max speed for its designation, but Harper had it laden with advanced sensors and an active camo system that made up for the loss of a little speed. It was still far and away the fastest juggernaut in the legion.

  “Copy that, Harper,” Reggie replied, trying to set a good example. His Alpha Platoon had slipped into a lot of loose habits with all the missions they’d run together and the easy camaraderie of hammering down missions like nails sticking out of a board.

  Artemis reached F-55 and held position. “All clear,” June reported. “Stealth insertion and forward position achieved. We’ve seriously got to consider upgrading this place’s defenses once it’s ours.”

  Chase giggled over the radio. “Why you think we’re getting it? If this place was defended like a core world, we’d never have made planetfall.”

  “Tabled for later discussion,” Reggie said. He checked his own progress to the rendezvous. Just another couple hundred meters and he’d be in position as well. “But point taken. We can’t afford to be sloppy like this.”

  TARGET DATA RECEIVED

  Reggie blinked at the message to make sure it wasn’t his eyes playing tricks on him. But there they were, three new red blips on his mini-map. There was even a tactical readout on them.

  “Three Titans inbound, Bravo Platoon,” Reggie warned. But of course, they already knew. It was Harper in his Chipmunk who had relayed the data, and he was plugged into his own platoon’s tactical computers. “Fall back and—”

  “They haven’t spotted me,” Harper said quickly. “We’re still hidden.”

  “They must have spotted something,” June said. “They’re headed straight for your position.”

  “Coincidence,” Harper replied. “Probably a patrol route. If I don’t move, they won’t spot me until they’re within 500m.”

  “But by then you won’t have time to get to cover,” Chase pointed out.

  Frank’s reply came over a channel reserved just for Alpha Platoon. “Aw, let the kid learn the hard way. No greenhorn gamer is going to believe his fancy-pants trickeration’s no good until he gets his jimmies kicked up his keester.”

  But Reggie was already busily updating his mental strategy. No plan survived contact with the enemy. That was the first thing a commander hammered into green troops the second they got exposed to live fire. You can’t win if you can’t react. Whoever reacted quickest, surest, and most decisively when their plan came apart would be the victor.

  “Harper, hold position as long as possible,” Reggie ordered. “The rest of Bravo Platoon, continue north to Golf-nine-one following the river. Don’t come out of the water until I give the order. Alpha Platoon, wait until those Titans reach India-seven-six, then open fire, taking them in the side armor.”

  A chorus of acknowledgments flowed in as everyone confirmed receipt of the orders. How well they followed through remained to be seen.

  Sunlight glinted off the cockpit window of Vortex as Reggie marked the time. The dun-colored hillscape rolled along, blocking direct view of their targets. Without missiles loaded, they wouldn’t be playing tricks with indirect fire to avoid damage. Instead, they were relying on the fact that a little repair work was cheaper in the long haul than missile reloads. For the first time in the past fifty missions, Reggie wondered if pure economics was the game to be playing just now.

  F-76

  G-75

  H-76

  I-76

  “Bravo Platoon, fire and retreat,” Reggie ordered. He waited as the wireframe outlines of the Titans in his tactical display lit with damage markers. The 105-ton behemoths shrugged off the damage. It appeared as if Ellie might have put in a couple good shots with her Gargoyle, but even that was mostly cosmetic damage.

  “Alpha Platoon, fire at will.”

  This was the action. For long, grinding weeks, Reggie and his main platoon had been tinkering and tuning, getting their juggernauts just the way everyone liked them. They had leveled up, loaded out, and locked in for these moments.

  Yulong was in position first, unleashing hell with her Anti-Matter Projector, scoring a critical hit that took an arm clean off one of the Titans.

  Reggie scrambled up the rise to see over it in Vortex. But seeing wasn’t going to be enough. This was a pincer movement, not a sniping engagement for anyone besides Lin and, to a lesser degree, June.

  Diablo and Gremlin were already charging in. Chase would stop short once he reached an optimal firing range, but Frank was a melee specialist. If he reached those Titans before they decided who was their biggest threat, they’d find out the hard way that it wasn’t Bravo Platoon.

  “General, where you want us?” Harper asked. A quick glance showed that he’d taken a shot from one of the Titans but had successfully withdrawn with the rest of Bravo Platoon upriver.

  Reggie was no general, but this wasn’t the time to clarify the chain of command. He was still at the top, whatever anyone decided to call him. “Keep close. Once those Titans engage us, hit their exposed backs.”

  “But how will we—?” Hime began to ask.

  “I’ll give the order,” Reggie snapped. Of course, with their limited sensor packages, Bravo Platoon wouldn’t be able to tell which way the Titans were facing without direct line of sight. Harper, their eyes and ears, was hunkering down along with the rest of them.

  With as short a weapons range as anyone in Alpha Platoon, Reggie finally reached firing range at 900m out from his first target.

  [Titan[2] - 44% To Hit]

  This was Reggie’s lot in life. His Command Radius skill boosted everyone else’s Gunnery and Piloting, but he was on his own and at a disadvantage for having spent his skill points and perks to help his troops.

  Vortex launched a volley from its Mk2 Plasma Launchers. Both shots missed the mark.

  Beside him, Diablo pulled up and steadied to fire. Four Plasma Launchers opened up, and all four shots connected with the exposed torso where Lin’s Yulong had blasted away an arm. With no thermal insulation at the gaping joint, Titan[2] quickly went into over-temperature shock.

  [Secondary Objective: Destroy Enemy Juggernauts 1/???]

  “Nice shootin’, kid,” Frank observed as he barreled onward.

  Titans [1] and [3] rotated their upper torsos to bring weapons to bear on Alpha Platoon. It was clear from the sluggish reactions that these were drone pilots, not even the run-of-the-mill shitty AI that Armored Souls used for most of their non-player-piloted juggernauts.

  “Bravo Platoon, target Titan[1] and fire at will,” Reggie ordered. “Alpha Platoon, focus fire on Titan[1]’s legs.”

  “But what about Titan[3]?” Hime asked.

  Reggie didn’t answer. Bravo Platoon would be in visual range any second. She’d see for herself.

  Frank raised both Gremlin’s swords overhead and spread wide. Titan[3] peppered him with beam cannon fire but only scorched away some of the Tiger-class heavy juggernaut’s armor before Frank closed the gap. Two huge slabs of steel descended, more giant girders than cutting blades, with just enough of an edge to focus the impact.

  Green, full hit-point zones on the Titan went instantly to red as the swords came down on the juggernaut’s head. Frank didn’t slow down, either, plowing into his opponent torso first. Flat-footed and swiveled at the waist, the Titan was in no position to keep itself upright. Gremlin fell atop it.

  Reggie had to force himself to pay attention to Titan[1] instead of watching the tactical display to enjoy Frank’s work. It wasn’t an unheard of style of juggernaut combat, but it had few proponents. Melee combat came with higher repair bills and a lot of time spent under withering fire chasing down juggernauts that didn’t want to engage. Frank had some secondary weaponry for “annoying little buggers” but preferred finding big, slow targets to work over.

  Truth be told, his favorite seemed to be catching light ju
ggernauts unawares and swatting them airborne like golf balls, but tackling equal-sized opponents held its own satisfaction.

  [Titan[1] - 63% To Hit]

  This time Reggie’s plasma blasts connected, adding to the barrage that sandwiched the Titan from both sides. The tactical wireframe spasmed colors as both platoons burned it down.

  [Secondary Objective: Destroy Enemy Juggernauts 2/???]

  On the ground, there was still a wrestling match going on. Titan[3] lacked leverage but still had power in its massive fists. But Frank practiced his piloting even while flopping on the ground. He leaned out of the way of a left, then a right-fisted blow by the downed Titan, then drew back his sword for a fatal blow to the thing’s skull.

  [Secondary Objective Complete: Destroy Enemy Juggernauts 3/3]

  “That was it?” Lin asked. “I thought this was supposed to be tough.”

  Though they weren’t on visual communication, Reggie glared at Chase’s Diablo on the platoon tactical panel. He was thinking along the same lines as Lin.

  “Theoretically, three Titans and a default base defense system should have been more than a match for us,” Chase insisted. “At least just the five of us. We didn’t have the intel to know the base was defenseless and the juggernauts were running sub-human AI.”

  “Um, does this mean we won?” Ellie asked.

  “Not yet,” Reggie said. He set a course for the outpost itself. There was a formality to things like this. An NPC leader wouldn’t just hand over the keys to his colony the second his last defender died. There was always the chance that the invaders were after something besides a change in ownership. They needed to see the juggernauts parked on their doorstep and receive the official demand for surrender.

  It was a victory procession that Reggie led. On the way into the strip mining operation, he took quick stock of his conquest. It was nothing spectacular, mostly gray steel ore smelting plants and mobile mining drills, plus a few ground-based haulers. A small village of modern pre-fab domes was his destination.

  Just as he drove Vortex within 100m of the village, an option popped up in the air in front of his face.

  [Demand Surrender / Demand Tribute]

  “Oh, I’ll be having the surrender today, waiter,” Reggie said with the radio off. “I’ll take that with a side of gold ore and an appetizer of a daily income boost for Wounded Legion.”

  He tapped the surrender button.

  [Wounded Legion - New Holding - Schet IX]

  Over the speakers, the whole faction cheered.

  [Primary Objective Complete: Force the Surrender of Schet IX to Wounded Legion]

  [Secondary Objective Complete: Leave All Mining Assets Intact]

  [Mission Successful - 6,100 XP - 2,000Cr]

  “Was that a typo?” Harper asked. “Two grand for a faction conquest?”

  “Kinda… stingy,” Hime agreed. “This going to be standard operating?”

  “Hey, we have faction income now,” Reggie said. “I’ll make it up to you guys.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The site of Wounded Legion’s next mission was hauntingly beautiful. The planet had no atmosphere to speak of, and the nighttime view of its two giant moons lit the sky with blue and red orbs like palette-swapped twins overhead. The landscape was bathed the purple light of those reflected moons, following the craggy terrain and casting ravines into shadow.

  Ahead, in the distance, a shining medical facility gleamed like a beacon. Perched halfway up a mountainside, it was a factory for pharmaceuticals that were of no inherent value to players, but which commanded high prices in the NPC commodities markets. In the end, that was all that mattered to Reggie’s faction.

  Money.

  Without money, no faction could grow. Income from Schet IX was already trickling in, and Reggie had discovered that owning an ore refinery provided a bonus to salvage rates for completely destroyed juggernauts if they could ship the crap there. It was only a 10 percent bonus, but every little bit helped, and it was more than worth the cost of stopping by with the drop ship on the way home from missions.

  “No juggernauts on radar,” June reported.

  “All right, everyone,” Reggie said. “Keep on your toes. Don’t get complacent.”

  He punched the command to launch the player-generated mission.

  [Primary Objective: Force the Surrender of Alcon Prime to Wounded Legion]

  [Secondary Objective: Capture Scientists 0/???]

  Reggie felt a little squeamish about that secondary objective. Chase kept reminding him that they were NPCs; they didn’t have feelings or a sense of self. But they were trapped in the game, same as him. In the end, how different was Reggie from them?

  Possibly sensing his trepidation, ASHARI popped up from the console, her translucent blue face inscrutable as always. “Remind yourself that this is a game,” she said, voice echoing electronically. “You kill NPC pilots regularly without a hint of emotion. The miners on Schet IX already work for you; these scientists will be no different.”

  Checking first that the radio was switched off, Reggie took a deep breath. “Yeah, but we’re going to have to go in there and look them in the eye. Intel says there’s a hot hole. We go in there, they don’t surrender. They’ll wait for rescue.”

  “Reggie, you coming?” Chase radioed.

  Squeezing shut his eyes and balling his fists, Reggie knew he couldn’t just sit there. He nudged Vortex into gear and headed to the back of the pack of juggernauts marching toward the pharmaceutical complex.

  “This is a game,” ASHARI reminded him again. “You are playing a role, a role your teammates find you well suited for.”

  “But this is the sort of thing I fought against in the army,” Reggie protested. “Warlords, rogue states, militias. It was one thing being a private contractor and looking the other way a little. It’s like I’m stepping into a pair of boots, and I’ve got the left and right mixed up.”

  “If you’d like, I can speak to Dr. Zimmerman on your behalf,” ASHARI said. “You don’t use me for tactical advice. I ought to find some way to be of service.”

  “Keeping me grounded is enough,” Reggie said. “Besides, leaning on you for odds calculations seems like an exploit. I know you were planted for me to find. I didn’t earn you. I refuse to be a charity case.”

  “As you wish, Sgt. King,” ASHARI said. “But for the time being, just remind yourself that they are, in essence, digitized actors playing a part in a grand play for your benefit. Treating them as anything else is not honoring their purpose.”

  Reggie scowled at the holographic AI. “Fine.” With that, he hit the command to dismiss ASHARI. Let her get all touchy feely with Doc Zimmerman. Reggie would power through this like he’d done everything else in his life.

  The invasion force under the Wounded Legion banner approached the pharmaceutical compound with an eerie lack of resistance. Reggie kept expecting that at any moment, artillery fire would rain down on them or a rigged section of the landscape would give way beneath them. Seriously, could these medical types have been any more oblivious to the need for security?

  “Like walkin’ the dog,” Frank radioed to everyone. “Just a pleasant little stroll, waiting for the shit to happen.”

  “Thanks for that image,” Hime replied dryly.

  “Cut him some slack,” Nordbrook said. “I heard he was like a hundred fifty years old.”

  Rich whistled. “Damn, old man. Did you know Roosevelt?”

  Frank grunted. “Know him? I fought a war for him. Might’a voted for him once or twice. Can’t rightly recall. Used to carve our ballots on clay tablets and leave ‘em out in the sun to dry. Wasn’t neighborly to spy on someone else’s vote while it dried, but you had to keep an eye on your own in case some smart-ass punk decided to change it. Had whole parties sitting around while the clay—”

  “Someone please shoot at us,” Chase shouted for the world to hear. Of course, on a planet without an atmosphere to carry the sound, he was mainly just hurting
the ears of everyone in radio contact with Diablo.

  Just then, an incoming transmission popped up on Reggie’s display. It was a holographic feed, and the image was of an older man with gray hair and a furrowed brow. “You are trespassing on Uvanica Biomedical property. We are sanctioned by Star League to conduct research on local radioisotopes with promising medicinal properties. Depart now, or we will summon a strike team to eliminate you.”

  “Everyone get that?” Reggie said. “Find that transmitter before these idiots call for backup.”

  “More like front-up,” Chase radioed back. “You’d think they’d call first, then warn us to get bent or get cratered.”

  “Double-time,” Reggie said. “No point staying massed. Faster units, make use of that speed.”

  “Aye aye, sir!” Harper said.

  “I’ll do what I can,” June radioed out. It was a hefty drop-off from Harper’s Chipmunk to Artemis, but June’s Phoenix-class medium was the next best thing they’d got.

  Wounded Legion strung out from fastest to slowest juggernaut. Ellie fell behind the two lead juggernauts, followed by Chase’s Diablo. Reggie ended up in the back of the pack with Frank. Even Lin’s Yulong was faster, despite the Dragon being a heavy juggernaut.

  Harper reached the transmitter tower before Reggie was even within long range of any of his weapons. Despite minimal weaponry, he opened fire.

  Transmitter Tower: 79/80

  Transmitter Tower: 78/80

  Transmitter Tower: 77/80

  A sinking feeling came over Reggie as he realized that even a simple structure without armor or concrete reinforcement was going to take too long for one light juggernaut to knock out.

  June arrived shortly thereafter, but the added firepower of her Direct Fire Ballistic Cannon wasn’t much of an upgrade. Artemis was built to scout, same as Harper’s Chipmunk. The only difference in firepower came down to the medium chassis.

  Transmitter Tower: 74/80

  Transmitter Tower: 73/80

  Transmitter Tower: 70/80

  Transmitter Tower: 69/80

  Reggie wished he could squeeze more juice out of his engines, but Vortex’s Wolverine chassis was built for engagement, not maneuvering.