[Primary Objective: Kill Giant Beetle 7/100]
But while beetles went down quick and easy, they weren’t the only targets taking damage.
The slow whittling of insect mandibles on steel armor ceased. Instead, chunks of damage quickly tore through the torso armor of Barv’s Chipmunk from the rear.
“No!” Reggie shouted.
“Aaaaaaaaah!” Barv screamed.
It was too late. Barv’s juggernaut exploded as Minigun fire tore through his reactor.
“I will avenge you!” Sando shouted.
Fraya sobbed into her radio.
“Friendly fire detected,” Tenny reported. “Permission to engage traitor.”
“Denied,” Reggie snapped. “Just shoot mission objectives. Do not fire without a clear shot with zero chance of friendly damage.”
The Miniguns went silent.
In range now himself, Reggie had a clear shot at the beetles as they swarmed up from an underground nest.
[Beetle[14] - 88% To Hit]
[Primary Objective: Kill Giant Beetle 8/100]
[Beetle[22] - 86% To Hit]
[Primary Objective: Kill Giant Beetle 9/100]
[Beetle[16] - 91% To Hit]
[Primary Objective: Kill Giant Beetle 10/100]
[Beetle[19] - 95% To Hit]
[Primary Objective: Kill Giant Beetle 11/100]
The insects burst like grapes in the microwave under Reggie’s continuous laser fire. Amid the carnage and blue energy beams, tracers from the Miniguns showed that his three remaining idiot platoon mates were trying to pitch in to help.
“Help!” Fraya shouted.
Reggie’s first glance went to the platoon status screen. The legs of Fraya’s juggernaut had their armor showing red. Reggie’s second reaction was to look out the window and see her situation for himself. The beetles not showing up on the mini-map was an annoyance, but it shouldn’t have allowed four of them to surround Fraya and try to eat the legs out from under her Chipmunk with no one noticing.
“Why didn’t anyone fire on those beetles?” Reggie demanded, swiveling the torso of Vortex to bring his lasers to bear.
“Friendly fire risk,” Tenny reported.
“Friendly fire risk,” Sando echoed.
Seething out a breath, Reggie fired his Beam Cannon-M, popping two beetles in one blast.
[Primary Objective: Kill Giant Beetle 14/100]
“Rescind friendly fire order,” Reggie radioed. “Fire at will. Prioritize shots that target bugs actively damaging comrades.”
Minigun fire stuttered in Fraya’s direction. Beetles died.
[Primary Objective: Kill Giant Beetle 16/100]
“I’m down,” Fraya reported. She sniffled. “It’s all right. Go on… without me.”
Sando and Tenny had killed the bugs harrying Fraya, but they’d also finished the job of chopping the legs out from beneath her Chipmunk. Fraya’s juggernaut lay on its side, feebly trying to rise.
That was the last order Reggie gave during the battle.
Tenny and Sando held in for a while, picking off beetles here or there as Reggie’s lasers made gooey, insectile popcorn all across the valley. As Vortex waded through the muck of superheated bodily fluids, he was glad that cleanup of juggernauts was an automated feature, part and parcel to repairs. No amount of time spent with a garden hose and a soapy sponge would be enough to cleanse this mess.
[Primary Objective: Kill Giant Beetle 48/100]
Sando went down after a boulder shifted, revealing a nest just behind him. He was swarmed by a dozen beetles before a shot from Tenny finished him—and the lone remaining beetle from the nest.
[Primary Objective: Kill Giant Beetle 75/100]
Tenny finally succumbed to tiny scratches that finally wore their way clear through her armor.
“Gah! I am slain,” she reported with a grunt before her juggernaut went dark on the status screen.
Reggie blew a sigh that mixed disgust with relief and focused his attention on mopping up the remaining bugs.
It’s not that the beetles weren’t a threat to a Wolverine-class juggernaut. It’s just for that threat to warrant serious consideration, Reggie would have to park and take a nap. Running Vortex near the heat-damage threshold was actually enough to harm beetles that came into contact with the juggernaut. Mandibles sizzles. Legs smoldered.
Vortex was also tall enough to just step on ones that got too close. Any that latched on to inconvenient spots of the chassis, Reggie backed into stone pillars, crushing the pus-filled creatures like jelly donuts.
On foot, the insects would have been nightmarish opponents. From the god-like perch of a medium-weight juggernaut, they were either punching bags or target-range paper silhouettes.
[Primary Objective Complete: Kill Giant Beetle 100/100]
[Bonus Objective: Kill Beetle Queen 0/1]
“Beetle queen?”
Reggie was no entomologist, so he couldn’t say whether beetles were monarchists. But before he had time to ponder insect societal arrangements, the rocky ground in front of him boiled up. A beetle larger than the Chipmunks of his dead platoon mates rose from below.
The insect roared, a high-pitched squeal that said, “You killed my children” without having to utter a word.
With a casual flick of his thumb, Reggie activated the Plasma Launcher. The thing was right in front of him. It charged.
[Beetle Queen: 99% To Hit]
Squeezing the trigger, Reggie caught the beetle queen square in the face—or at least the front of the head since there was nothing there that could rightly be called a face. The Plasma Launcher had been overkill against the swarm. This, however, was a target worth putting a little superheated plasma into.
Alas, it was no more challenge than the little ones had been.
[Bonus Objective: Kill Beetle Queen 1/1]
The giant monster’s head exploded in a rain of yellow-green gore.
Allowing himself a moment’s respite, Reggie slumped back in the pilot’s seat of Vortex. When the rush of combat-triggered adrenaline had worn off, he checked the platoon panel, dark except where Fraya showed up in her disabled Chipmunk.
“Tell me again why I brought you imbeciles along?”
[Mission Successful - 150 XP – 1,900Cr]
CHAPTER FORTY
Back at the nameless, dank sewer of a base, Reggie considered his options. The platoon mates he’d gathered had adjourned to the barracks, spouting off inane snippets of dialogue to one another in something obviously meant to sound like a conversation without actually being one.
Out in the hangar, Reggie could just hear the sound of them, not distinct words. If ever four individuals could find the opposite of the pleasant, musical interplay of the voices in a barber quartet, these four had managed.
It wasn’t their fault; they’d been programmed this way. And that, Reggie decided, was part of his problem.
Real people had brains. They didn’t need to be told every little thing, literally and without omission. NPCs in Armored Souls were there for one reason. This much was painfully clear.
NPCs were the reason the Command skill existed.
Aside from its bonuses to hiring and retaining NPCs and the perks it unlocked, the Command skill allowed more detailed instructions to underlings.
It was all right there in the help file, if anyone were willing to delve into the verbose skill descriptions. Most players—Reggie included—had merely checked to see what bonuses a new skill point would convey. Gunnery or Piloting, Agility or Toughness, Perception or Command, these were questions weighed on a balance by number-crunchers like Chase.
But Reggie needed options that didn’t reflect in raw stats. His energy-based build made his beam cannons and plasma weaponry more efficient. The wayward points and perk in Command hadn’t done him a whole lot of good as best he could tell.
The hangar’s shopping kiosk had items under the More tab that could be the answer to the worst of his NPC-herding problems.
[
Skill Reset Pill - 10,000Cr]
Back to zero. Reggie would have the same level and XP, but he’d be able to reassign his skills and perks however he liked. The shopping entry had a warning that each reset would cost ten times the last one. If he was making a mistake, the next change of skills would cost more than many juggernauts.
He glanced from the pill on screen to the balance in his account: 11,500Cr. Scrimping on little missions added up pretty slowly.
That beetle queen had been a nice bonus on the end of a mission. For a regular level 2 platoon—which had been the mission’s rating—she might have been a nasty surprise after mowing through waves of bugs. Bigger, tougher, attacking with the element of surprise, it was liable to wipe out a depleted platoon.
The bonus mission had also paid out like an objective that might wipe out platoons.
Even forced to split the bonus with his hospital-bound NPCs, Reggie had come out with a nice nest egg toward building up a home in this desolate base.
Flashes of that last mission played in Reggie’s mind on a loop. Over and over, he saw the imbecile patrol emptying chain gun rounds into one another, in no small part because their Gunnery skills were all terrible.
If Reggie were to go hard into Command, he could give them bonuses that would make them into decent marksmen. His own build would suffer, but he now knew what he was getting into.
Buy.
Reggie’s finger had no sooner pressed the button on screen when a drawer slid out of the kiosk. Inside was a pill as big around as his little finger and half as long.
Marching over to the barracks to find a mirror before he lost his nerve, Reggie did his best to ignore the NPCs’ banter.
“I always say,” Barv said with a cocksure swagger in his tone. “Never start a fight you can’t finish.”
Idiot. You got your face eaten by a giant beetle two hours ago, Reggie thought sourly.
Fraya’s dream-addled voice almost sang. “Someday, I’m going to be the best pilot ever.”
“Good day, commander!” Tenny said with a smart salute. She was the only one programmed to react in anything resembling a military manner. Her protocol was rough around the edges, but it sounded like her programmer had already been trying the day he coded her.
Unlike the rest.
Standing in front of the mirror, Reggie saw his stats.
[King - Gunner 6]
[PER: 5]
[GUN: 15]
[SHO: 3]
[AGI: 3]
[PIL: 9]
[TGH: 5]
[CMD: 5]
[Command Radius 1]
[Heat Management 1]
[Heat Management 2]
There was no logo in the corner to indicate his faction. When he allowed an idle finger to brush the spot where one should have been, a menu popped up.
[Join Faction - Browse Faction List - Create Faction]
Reggie dismissed the menu by swiping it off the edge of the mirror. Maybe one day, but for now, credits were scarce. He’d have been searching the couch cushions for loose coins if the base had come with one.
Opening the hand holding the pill, Reggie wondered if he was making a mistake.
“You’ll never be the best,” Sando said, getting Reggie to turn his head and scowl at the rude observation. But Sando was looking Fraya’s way. “Because I’m the best there is and ever will be.”
Reggie downed the pill, swallowing it dry. He felt the thing all the way down his throat and settling into his stomach.
Instantly, a wave of dizziness came over him. When his vision cleared, the mirror had updated.
[King - Warrior 1+++++]
[PER: 1]
[GUN: 1]
[SHO: 1]
[AGI: 1]
[PIL: 1]
[TGH: 1]
[CMD: 1]
There were no perks.
He’d given his new skill build a lot of thought before approaching the kiosk. Reggie knew exactly what to punch in. His fingers tapped a rhythm on the mirror’s surface.
Every few inputs, Reggie’s level would increment. There was always a soft crescendo of trumpets, and the NPC pilots all cheered.
[King - Commander 6]
[PER: 7]
[GUN: 10]
[SHO: 1]
[AGI: 1]
[PIL: 7]
[TGH: 7]
[CMD: 12]
[Command Radius 1]
[Command Radius 2]
[Command Radius 3]
Reggie drew in a long, slow breath. He’d lose a little bit of his own effectiveness in combat. That was just the price he had to pay for the rest. He’d accepted a little lower Piloting skill since he was more about planning and being in the right place instead of reacting and adjusting. He’d upped his Perception and Toughness just to be better rounded, keeping up on his situational awareness and hanging in fights a little better if things went pear shaped.
But the key to his new setup was the Command Radius series of perks. They gave +1/+2/+3 respectively to the Gunnery skill of any allied pilot within 1200m of Reggie, for a grand total of +6. It gave +1/+1/+1 to Piloting. And Command Radius 3 gave Reggie continuous updates from allied targeting computers.
Deciding it was time to test out his theories in the field, he pointed to his platoon individually. “One potato, two potato, three potato four, now gather up your gear, and get your bleep right out the door.” It had been a favorite of his first instructor at boot camp. Reggie had typically been “three potato” in that rhyme, but it got him off his ass faster than a tornado siren.
None of the NPCs budged.
Rolling his eyes, Reggie tried something less poetic. “Everyone to your juggernauts. Mission time.”
“Yes, sir!” Tenny replied with a salute.
Reggie tried his best to imagine the rest echoing the same sentiment. But they didn’t.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
The silence in the drop ship was eerie. Put two soldiers together in anything that drove, flew, or floated, and they’d find something to jabber about. That held doubly true any time there would be bullets flying at the end of the trip. Math suggested that there were a few cold fish out there who’d rather mull their own inner demons than make a human connection inbound to combat.
Reggie had never met one.
However, the AI for NPC chatter didn’t include transit conversation, even from interstellar transport to the surface of a mission world.
Damned eerie, listening to four pilots say nothing to each other for a good five minutes while descending into a war zone.
Touchdown on the planet surface came as a welcome shift in tone.
“Lemme at ‘em,” Barv snarled as his Chipmunk pulled loose from its shipping restraints.
“Available for combat, sir,” Tenny reported in.
“Don’t get in my way,” Sando warned.
Then, to cap off the inanity, came Fraya’s perky voice. “Be safe and have fun, everyone!”
“Form up,” Reggie ordered, tapping in a pre-programmed arrangement of juggernauts. The ability to dictate formations was something he’d gained once he took Command 10.
The drop ship’s rear ramp opened, and Reggie’s platoon stormed out like something resembling a unified fighting force. The trees and hilly terrain were home to a listening post owned and operated by the Gulgar Consortium. A competitor of theirs who remained nameless in the mission description wanted the outpost taken out of commission.
It was slimy work, operating as corporate thugs, but for game purposes, Reggie and his platoon just needed the XP—mostly the NPCs.
“Sando, ascend that rise at Echo-three-nine and report,” Reggie ordered.
“Hmph, as if I would have any trouble with that,” Sando replied, seeming to take offense at the order but complying nonetheless. His Chipmunk shot off with the quickness of its namesake.
Reggie and the others hung back. On the mini-map, Sando’s position updated hex by hex. When he reached E-39, a variety of enemy installations appeared.
&n
bsp; [Primary Objective: Destroy Satellite Receiver 0/4]
[Primary Objective: Destroy Satellite Transmitter 0/1]
[Secondary Objective: Destroy Enemy Juggernauts 0/6]
Without a word, Reggie tapped on the platoon status screen, selecting Tenny, then tapped hex C-44 within the enemy compound, marking a receiver dish. In similar fashion, he assigned satellite receivers to Fraya, Barv, and finally to Sando.
“Maneuver to max effective missile range from your targets,” Reggie ordered. “Hold all fire until I give the order.”
All the Chipmunks had SRM-2s. They’d have to close to 400m to fire. Even in forested terrain, without the intelligence to make stealthy maneuvers, they were liable to get spotted taking position. But thanks to having Command 12, Reggie would know the second one of them spotted hostile juggernauts.
Vortex was equipped with MRM-2s. Reggie could afford to stay 800m from the tower with the transmitter and not have any worries about missing his mark.
Everyone was in position.
Reggie couldn’t believe it. There were no signs of enemy forces yet.
“Fire.”
Launch indicators flickered on each Chipmunk on the platoon screen.
[Satellite Transmitter - 100% To Hit]
Reggie followed suit and launched his medium-range missiles. A stationary target in optimal range with no cover besides a hillside that prevented direct fire… well, Reggie could get used to guaranteed hits.
In rapid succession, all five targets blinked out on the mini-map.
[Primary Objective Complete: Destroy Satellite Receiver 4/4]
[Primary Objective Complete: Destroy Satellite Transmitter 1/1]
“Enemy sighted!” Fraya shouted.
There they were, appearing on the mini-map just as Fraya indicated. There was a platoon of Osprey medium juggernauts headed in from A-70.
“Pack it in,” Reggie ordered. “Return to the drop ship. Do not engage.”
This wasn’t a time for showboating, greed, or phony heroics. The mission intel hadn’t indicated the complement of juggernauts that made up the four defenders of the listening post. Reggie had inferred from the level 4 recommendation for this sabotage job that they’d be outgunned.
Reggie had planned this mission out to minimize the chance of contact with hostile forces. By hanging back personally, and with four blazing-fast juggernauts on his side, there was no chance that the Ospreys could close to firing range before Reggie and his NPC buddies made it their ride.
Dead Mech Walking: a mech LitRPG novel (Armored Souls Book 1) Page 21
