Lin’s eyes unfocused. It was like she entered a trance, but the reality was almost exactly the opposite. Back in the physical world, she’d be snapping out of one.
“So,” Chase said amiably as a waiter delivered a mug of root beer. “You got a ride out of here? I’m dying to see this bleep-hole of yours.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Back at base, Reggie made some quick introductions and started a tour. They started in the hangar, where four of the five slots in the cavern wall were occupied with juggernauts.
Vortex stood at the near end, closest to the hangar entrance, gleaming under the fluorescent lights high in the rocky recesses of the cave ceiling.
Beside Vortex was Frank’s Gremlin. The Tiger-class behemoth was a monster. Its black paint job reminded Reggie of The Mechromancer, but that’s where the similarity ended. Where The Mechromancer’s juggernaut was sleek and towering, Gremlin was a brawler. It was loaded with LRM-6s and Beam Cannon-Ls, but that was only to catch things that ran. It’s main armaments, as best Reggie could tell, were the twin swords it carried, each the size of a flat-bed train car that someone had sharpened.
Next in line was Diablo. Chase’s ride was a familiar companion. Its brilliant crimson paint job suggested a mid-life crisis sports car. But given Reggie’s guess about Chase being just a kid, it probably reminded him of his favorite Hot Wheels.
Last in line was Yulong, which Lin had informed them meant “green dragon.” Which was easy to remember since it was a Dragon-class heavy juggernaut the color of jade. It had the look of a warrior out of the space-marine variety. It carried a hellacious Anti-Matter Projector that it carried like an assault rifle and had a sword—smaller than Gremlin’s—clamped to its back.
Then there was the empty space.
Reggie needed to do something about that.
“As you can see,” Reggie called out, projecting his voice so that everyone could hear him as they wandered and gandered around. “It’s a bare-bones operation.”
“There are med school skeletons with more meat on them,” Chase quipped. “But we’ll fix that soon enough. We’re going to get bleeping rich as bleeping pharaohs.”
“Got a mouth on ya, kid,” Frank said. “You ever serve?”
Chase snorted, then raised his hands and looked from Frank to Reggie and back again. “No offense, but this is a game. You couldn’t pay me enough to let people shoot at my actual living body.”
“Real hero,” Lin remarked dryly.
“Back in my day, we called a man like you a sissy,” Frank said, jutting his jaw in Chase’s direction.
Chase grinned and took a step forward. “I might not have dumped my load in Toughness like you, old man, but real-world martial arts work here.” He fell into a kickboxer’s stance—or at least that’s what it looked like to Reggie. Reggie had taken his basic army hand-to-hand course and been done with it.
The two squared off, with Frank putting up his dukes like a boxer.
Reggie was honestly curious how this would turn out. It wasn’t as if anyone would get hurt.
Lin sidled over and leaned close. “You gonna break this up?” she asked.
“Should I?”
“You’re the commander, theoretically.”
“Wouldn’t that make it my decision?” Reggie asked.
Lin rolled her eyes. “Not for nothing, but Chase is a blowhard.”
As if to punctuate her point, Chase took a fist to the face from Frank. The blow landed with a meaty smack. Chase stumbled back, grinning, then charged in.
The two men landed in a heap as Chase drove the smaller man to the ground. They punched, grappled, and rolled, with each man having his moment of glory on top, raining blows down.
“All right,” Reggie called out. “That’s enough.”
Frank finished the fight on top. He shoved Chase to the ground and got up chuckling. Then he offered Chase a hand getting to his feet.
“Kid all right?” Reggie asked Frank.
“He is in my book,” Frank replied with a decisive nod.
Lin shook her head and led the way down the corridor to the rest of the base. “I will never understand how testosterone works,” she announced to the world at large. “You’re not even getting a real dose of that bleep in here. It’s all just imprinted behavior.”
“Listen, missy,” Frank said.
Reggie cut in before Frank said something old-fashioned and liable to start another fight—one that might not end in a hand up for the loser. “Down here we’ve got our rec room, complete with bar.”
“Nice,” Chase commented, poking his head inside as Reggie narrated the tour from the hallway. “Looks… well, I was going to say homey, but I’ll go with livable. Needs a couple couches, another TV or two, maybe a fridge.”
“There’s not even real food in game,” Lin pointed out.
Chase grinned. “Which is why pizza and ice cream are dirt cheap and completely not unhealthy.”
Frank gave the room a quick once-over. “Like the pool table. Man can think while he’s got a cue in his hands.”
Not wanting to get sucked into amusements while there was more of the base to show them, Reggie kept moving. “Down the end of this hall is the barracks.”
“What’s down there?” Chase asked, hooking a thumb down a side passage Reggie had skipped.
Reggie coughed and brought a fist up to cover his mouth. “My room.”
“So we get a barracks; you get private digs?” Chase asked.
Reggie held up his palms. “Just temporary. Remember, until yesterday, I had an NPC crew.”
“Whatever,” Lin said, proceeding down the hall. “It’s not like we need to actually sleep in game anyway.”
Frank exchanged a glance with Reggie, but neither of them mentioned their out-of-game circumstances. They lagged at the back of the group as the others went on ahead.
“Oh… oh, no,” Chase said.
Reggie arrived to find Chase sitting on one of the cots, bouncing up and down accompanied by a chorus of groaning springs.
“This is not cool, Reggie. We gotta spend some credits and fix this bleep.”
Reggie tugged at his shirt collar. “Well, I think I have to be the one to make the updates to the base, but if you spot me the credits—”
“Designate bedroom areas,” Lin said brusquely. “I’m not living in this prison cell. If we have our own areas marked off, we can spend our own credits making it livable.”
“How about you, Frank?” Reggie asked. “Might as well get everyone on the same complain train.”
Frank harrumphed. He gave one of the mattresses a firm pat. “No rats. No spiders. Keeps out the rain. Got everything I need in a bed.”
Chase had pulled out a tablet and was browsing through it. “Bleep,” he muttered softly.
“Problem?” Reggie asked.
Chase sighed. “No. Well, yes. I’m not completely broke, but I didn’t budget for day-one upgrades to a construction-site-grade dormitory. Mind setting us up on a quick mission? I could use the moolah.”
“We’re still missing a fifth,” Reggie pointed out.
“Nothing stopping us running with four,” Chase countered. “Just have to watch out for surveillance and containment missions where being shorthanded might bleep us.”
“I’ve got a roommate who plays,” Lin suggested. “Kelly’s not that great, but I can coach her up a little.”
“What’s she run?” Chase asked. “And is Kelly the blonde who comes on your stream sometimes?”
“No, that’s not her,” Lin said. “And I wish you’d quit reminding me that you’re a creepy cyber stalker. No one else here knows what anyone looks like but you.”
“Hey,” Chase said. “If you didn’t want to be famous, don’t advertise your stream. Besides, you keep it real. I can respect that.” He turned to Frank and Reggie. “She looks the same on the internet. So either she shells out for Hollywood-level CGI or she’s actually hot.”
“And I suppose you’re th
e dashing test pilot in real life?” Lin countered.
Chase’s brow knit together. He gave his digital body a scowl. “This? Pure fiction. I’ve walked farther on this tour than I have all week. I mean, facially, not too bad a resemblance, but I’ve got flab that outweighs you.”
“While we’re sharing,” Lin said dryly. “How about you two?”
Frank snickered. “Back in the Truman administration, maybe. This electronic snow globe took an old unit photo and slapped this body together for me. Shoulda given ‘em Stevie Campanella’s picture instead of mine. That fella had the ladies dripping off him like a rain slicker.”
Lin looked Reggie’s way as he was scratching his head at Frank’s corny old lingo.
“What?” Reggie asked. “I took the defaults.”
“He’s on medical leave,” Chase informed Lin. “Army put him in here to get over the yips.”
“It’s not ‘the yips,’” Reggie snapped. He turned to Lin. “So this friend of yours. What spec and juggernaut has she got?”
“She’s level 2, still using a starter Pixie,” Lin said. “But I can talk her into insuring it, and we can use her as cannon fodder until she learns.”
Chase combed a hand through his shaggy hair. “I dunno. A bad pilot’s worse than none.”
Lin aimed a finger at Reggie. “He’s specced out the bleeping bleep with Command skills. We could drag a poodle along in a cockpit with bonuses like that.”
Chase didn’t look convinced. “Still rather ride with someone a little more gung ho. You know, a partner, not a bleeping boat anchor. Maybe we can see if any of our old House Virgo peeps want in.” He directed the latter comment to Reggie.
The idea had merit. But as he rolled the idea over in his head, he saw the rotten underbelly. Iris might not even be playing anymore. Barclay was always a downer. If they were going to target any of the Cold Brotherhood, it would be Kim, but even that left a sour taste in his mouth. Reggie remembered what a breath of fresh air Chase was on the team, and that had been in large part due to his attitude and aptitude. Lin and Frank had that fire. Kim had been a punch-clock warrior.
Then it hit him.
Hold on. “Reggie said. Hang out in the rec room or something. I’ve got a call to make.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Reggie watched the screen as the video communications app established a connection. He was trembling and had to clench his hands to keep from fidgeting as he waited.
“Hi Reggie. Great to hear from you.”
June’s face appeared. An artificially grainy real-time connection made it look like a zillion light-years separated them. The image lagged slightly from the audio.
“Hey yourself,” Reggie said, trying to play it cool. “Missed you back in the real world.”
“Oh my god, are you blushing, Sgt. King?” June asked with a widening grin. “You are. Is this a booty call?”
Reggie tugged at his collar and swallowed hard. This wasn’t going at all how he’d planned. “No.” His voice broke. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “No. Of course not. I actually had a proposal for you.”
“This is all a bit sudden but yes.”
Reggie caught the twinkle in her eye to realize that June was messing with him. Somehow that was easier than her taking him seriously. “No, I mean I’ve got a platoon I’m putting together, and it would look a lot better with you in it.”
“Goes without saying.” She continued to smirk. “Who’ve you got?”
Reggie rattled off quick bios for each of his new platoon members. “None of us is Perception specced. You’d fit in great.”
“And that’s the only reason you’re calling? You just happen to be short jugs, and you thought of me?”
Reggie gritted his teeth. “Listen, if you’re not up for it, that’s fine. No pressure. If I was seeing you every time I logged out of this place, maybe I wouldn’t have called. Wouldn’t want to drag work into your R&R, after all. But since I miss seeing your pretty face when I wake up—”
“I’m in.”
Reggie’s smile was one of relief. “Lemme send you the coordinates. Oh, and bring a little cash if you’ve saved up. The natives are a little touchy about the accommodations.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
With June aboard, they were five. Their first foray was as part of a three-platoon assault force hired to destroy a military outpost under the control of House Sedietra.
The mission briefing went into a lot of windy detail on the political situation between House Sedietra and their employer, House Nennokrah. The short version boiled down to interstellar surveying errors and generations of pig-headed leadership leading to a situation where House Sedietra had planted an outpost in what House Nennokrah considered their territory.
That meant war.
In Armored Souls, Reggie was finding, just about everything meant war. Cynically, he found it to be one of the game’s most realistic aspects.
The chatter on the ride out had been lighthearted and completely unrelated to the mission. Frank regaled them with stories so old they were in black and white. Lin talked about her streaming channel and what it was like getting paid to play games and to announce competitions by pros. June talked about her kid brother’s antics. Chase gave some insights into his academic career that had Reggie questioning his initial assessment of the guy’s age.
But once the drop ship touched down, a switched flipped. Everyone went stone cold.
They were last in line of the three platoons on the House Nennokrah drop ship. When the time came, the five of them poured out like attack dogs let off the leash.
[Primary Objective: Destroy House Sedietra Command Center]
[Primary Objective: Destroy House Sedietra Juggernauts 0/??]
[Secondary Objective: Secure Munitions Depot]
“Fan out,” Reggie ordered. “Nightingale, take up position at Whiskey-niner-one-five.”
“Can we skip the codenames?” Chase asked. “I’m fine with everyone calling me Chase. I think it’s better for platoon bonding.”
“Suit yourself, ‘Sabotage,’” Frank said with a chuckle.
Reggie rolled with it. “Fine. June, Whiskey-niner—”
“Already on it,” June replied. And indeed her Phoenix, Artemis, was on the move. It was the first of its kind Reggie had ever seen, as large as his Wolverine but built for maneuverability over raw firepower. It was painted orange and yellow suggesting its namesake. Thanks to Extended Jump Boosters, it practically flew.
An unexpected voice thundered through Reggie’s radio on the platoon commander’s frequency. “Hey, King. Take your squad out to Q880. Cover out backsides when the counterattack comes.”
“The bleep you talking about?” Reggie radioed back. The censoring was getting to him; he couldn’t be sure whether he’d actually said bleep that time. “I’m already deploying to guard the forest approach.”
“Negative,” the other platoon leader radioed back. “Best cover for the first strike. We’ll come out of cover hot. We just need to make sure none of them loop around while our pants are down.”
None of that made any sense. Yeah, the shortest distance between two points was through a forest covering 30-plus hexes between the outpost and their drop ships. That didn’t mean cutting your sight lines to zero and hoping the enemy hadn’t noticed the drop ship was a good idea.
This wasn’t an umbrella mission. Reggie wasn’t under anyone’s command here. Maybe that was a fuck-up on the part of House Nennokrah, but fact was, Reggie didn’t owe the blowhard platoon leader on the radio the time of day.
Reggie wasn’t going to let the other platoons fuck this up. “Chase, Frank, skirt the forest. Stay in range of laser weapons in case you need to light it up.”
“Wilco,” Frank replied.
“Got it,” Chase answered.
Both juggernauts veered toward the path Reggie suggested. He took a wider path, sweeping outward to keep his whole platoon in range of his command bonus.
“Lin, take
point on the western flank.”
“OK.” Lin’s Yulong accelerated and became the tip of the platoon’s wing formation.
“June, How long can that thing stay airborne?” Reggie asked. He wished he’d thought to ask before the mission began, but it was better to sound unprepared than to be unprepared. Ego was for the briefing room, and even there a good commander stomped it out when it was just an ember.
“About fifteen seconds a pop before heat becomes an issue,” June radioed back.
ASHARI’s holograph popped up. “I could have answered that for you.”
Reggie muted his mic. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Resuming the radio, he gave June’s orders. “Get us a bird’s eye view of the far side of the forest. Take cover the instant you think they’ve spotted you.”
Somewhere within the forest, the battle began.
[Primary Objective: Destroy House Sedietra Juggernauts 3/??]
“King!” an angry voice bellowed over the radio. “Relay your bleeping sensor data, you bleeping bleep. We’re blind in here.”
Sheer curiosity at this imbecile’s belated interest in his surroundings forced Reggie to look at the radio logs for the guy’s name. He went by the handle Badger3. “Um, sorry there, Badger Three, but I’m going to recommend you withdraw out the eastern side of the forest. Come out around Foxtrot-one-zero-one-one. We’ll burn the forest to prevent access to the drop ship and create a pincer.”
Reggie waited as his own people fanned out and implemented his plan.
“Where the bleep?” Badger3 demanded. “What the bleep is Foxtrot? Some old bleep dance?”
Reggie muted the radio.
“Your plan is the more tactically sound,” ASHARI assured him. “A mutually independent venture is 15 percent more likely to succeed than following Warrior Badger3’s plan.”
“Got eyes on the target,” June announced.
TARGET DATA ACQUIRED
Reggie’s mini-map lit like a suburban street at Christmas.
[Primary Objective: Destroy House Sedietra Juggernauts 3/44]
Dead Mech Walking: a mech LitRPG novel (Armored Souls Book 1) Page 27
