Dead Mech Walking: a mech LitRPG novel (Armored Souls Book 1)

by Xavier P. Hunter

  Buildings loomed on all sides, forming steel canyons as the juggernauts kept close to avoid losing visual contact. Cities looked so fragile at a distance. Spindly structures straining to reach the clouds appeared easy targets for toppling. The firepower to make such a vision come to pass was enormous. Nothing Reggie or the rest of his platoon could manage would even take down a fraction of the city before they ran out of ammo, collapsed of exhaustion in the cockpit, or ran their fusion reactors out of deuterium.

  Reggie’s radio log blared with alarms he’d muted. Some local law enforcement types were pitching a fit first over their unauthorized landing, then over the five juggernauts shutting down all economic activity in a major industrial city as civilians abandoned their workplaces to take shelter.

  “Got something,” June reported. “Not what we’re hoping for.”

  TARGET DATA ACQUIRED

  The mini-map was awful here. City of Darrek was so choked with skyscrapers that the sight lines were nil. June’s targeting data showed a pair of Titan-class heavy juggernauts on approach from Street seven-two-five.

  Reggie was tempted to put the map back onto hex mode, but the resolution was just wrong for a battle this claustrophobic.

  “Lin, Frank, take a left onto West Bay Street, down two blocks, and cut over on Street seven-two-four. Until we see evidence that the civilians are sharing intel with the local militia, act as if they won’t know you’re coming around. June, take all precautions to remain out of the line of fire to those Titans.”

  “What about me?” Chase asked, tagging along at Vortex’s side.

  “We’re going to draw their fire, then take cover.”

  Reggie felt his hands shaking on the steering controls. He had to open his sweating palms to keep from accidentally firing his Plasma Launcher. Here he was, with no intel on potential insurgent forces, ordering men into harm’s way.

  “Roger that,” Chase replied crisply.

  As Reggie led the way to the corner of Street 725 and West Smoke Street, he took a moment to check the weapon load out on the Titans.

  “Watch yourself,” Reggie warned as he pulled up short. “Those two are armed with Heavy Plasma Launchers.”

  “Ooooh,” Chase sang. “Me likey. Hey, boss, mind if we try to salvage those intact?”

  “Negative,” Reggie radioed back. “Put ‘em down. Finish the mission.”

  There were a million things that could go wrong already. If sweat stank in this game, Reggie would have worn out his deodorant long ago. Last thing he needed was trick shots missing the mark and two heavily armed Titans making Swiss cheese out of them.

  “Not like you could even fit one of those on your tiny, itty-bitty widdle Jackal,” Lin teased. “It’d be like a—”

  “Save it for later,” Reggie ordered. “Are you two in position yet?”

  He could see by the mini-map that they were, but Reggie wanted confirmation.

  “Yep,” Frank said. “Give the word.”

  “Chase, on my mark… three… two…”

  “Wait!” Chase shouted.

  Reggie paused his countdown. “What?”

  “Do we go on one or after one, when you’d expect a zero?”

  “It’s three, two, one, then we go.”

  “Gotcha, boss.”

  “Now,” Reggie tried again. “Three… two… one…”

  Chase stepped out of cover, exposing the left half of Diablo. Reggie used Diablo as cover for Vortex as he leaned even farther out. Chase fired, striking Titan[1] in the right leg.

  [Titan[1] - 77% To Hit - Right Leg: 63/70]

  Reggie fired his Plasma Launcher at the same spot, but his shot only hit Titan[1] in the torso. It wasn’t wasted, but the shot wasn’t what he’d been hoping for.

  “Slick shootin’, Tex,” Chase remarked as they both ducked behind the building for cover.

  “Yeah, remember that I don’t get my own Command Radius bonuses,” Reggie pointed out. His instinct had told him to berate Chase for useless chatter in battle, but banter was more fun.

  Gobs of superheated plasma roared past, one missing them, the other tearing through the corner of skyscraper they were using as cover and still dealing damage.

  Reggie’s eyes went to his console.

  Torso: 78/80

  Head: 38/40

  Vortex was fine.

  While his eyes were downcast, Reggie noticed June on the mini-map. Artemis streaked headlong through the city while the rest of the platoon was engaged.

  “Any signs of the lab?” Reggie asked.

  On the enemy wire frames, Reggie saw the effects of Frank and Lin’s surprise attack.

  Titan[1] Right Leg: 43/60

  Titan[1] Right Leg: 39/60

  Titan[1] Right Leg: 35/60

  Titan[1] Right Leg: 15/60

  “Not yet,” June replied. “Taking some flak from civilians in the buildings. Nothing threatening… yet.”

  Reggie took a steadying breath. Civilians in the buildings. Non-combatants armed with anti-tank weapons. He pushed the images from his mind.

  “They’re turning,” Lin reported.

  “Our cue,” Reggie radioed to Chase.

  Diablo and Vortex poked out from cover. Reggie took aim at Titan[1]’s heavily damaged leg. The heavy juggernaut was limping as it attempted to bring its weaponry to bear on the more dangerous Yulong and Gremlin.

  All the four of them had to do was keep the Titans from getting easy shots, ducking behind cover depending on which way they faced.

  “Yeaaaaaarrrrrrrgggghhh,” Frank’s battle cry was wordlessly inarticulate. Gremlin charged headlong toward the two Titans, swords raised.

  [Titan[1] - 79% To Hit - Right Leg: 15/70]

  Reggie fired, and this time connected.

  Chase did likewise with his Plasma Launcher.

  “Bleep me,” Chase complained.

  Reggie switched to his Beam Cannon-M and saw at once what the problem had been.

  [Titan[1] - 88% To Hit - Right Leg: 1/70]

  With one laser burst, Reggie cut the Titan’s leg out from under it. Just in time, too, since Frank was barreling in, intent on the other.

  Two swords crashed home.

  Titan[2] Head: 40/60

  Titan[2] Head: 20/60

  The two juggernauts, Titan and Tiger, locked together as Frank’s Gremlin crashed in. The streets shook and glass shattered in nearby windows as they hit the ground.

  Yulong was hot on Gremlin’s trail. Lin drew her juggernaut’s own sword and fell on the downed Titan[1], finishing it off.

  “Got something!” June shouted.

  TARGET DATA ACQUIRED

  A blinking blue marker appeared on Reggie’s mini-map.

  “Frank, you got that?” Reggie asked.

  “One sec,” Frank replied. One of Gremlin’s fists rose as Titan[2] struggled to clench the Tiger close. When the blow slammed down, the Titan’s head armor briefly flashed red in Reggie’s wire frame view before going dark. “Let’s go!”

  “Above us! Rockets!” someone had shouted in a light southern twang. “Take cover!”

  Reggie froze.

  Explosions rocked the streets.

  Blue beams of coherent light flashed toward the upper floors of the buildings on all sides.

  “Did you hear me?” Chase shouted. “They’ve got shoulder-launched SRMs in the buildings around us! Move!”

  Reggie tried to get a hold of himself. This was Armored Souls, not his old unit. He was in a futuristic metropolis, not a middle-eastern backwater.

  ASHARI blinked into existence on his console. “Warrior King… Reggie. Everything is fine. The tactical threat is minimal if you react. Take charge.”

  Take charge…

  ASHARI didn’t mean of the platoon, though that was covered in her statement as well, Reggie supposed. Take charge of his life. Take charge of his past. Take charge of what was going on inside his own damn head.

  “Stick to the east sides of the buildings,” Reggie ordered. “Return fire o
n the western side insurgents, but don’t stop. Rendezvous at June’s location, and let’s end this.”

  “Right,” Chase radioed back.

  More blue lasers lanced the shadows cast by hundred-story buildings.

  A salvo of MRMs from Vortex sent a rain of glass cascading down into the streets.

  The four of them arrived to find June already pecking away at the target’s hit points.

  Secret Gone-Star Lab: 143/180

  They all joined in. The lab hardly knew what hit it.

  Secret Gone-Star Lab: 77/180

  Secret Gone-Star Lab: 8/180

  Secret Gone-Star Lab: 0/180

  [Primary Objective Complete: Locate and Destroy Secret Gone-Star Lab]

  “Chase, if you want those Heavy Plasma Launchers, it’s on you to tag ‘em,” Reggie radioed as he started back for the drop ship.

  Diablo slowed to a walking pace for a moment before accelerating back to max speed. “Nah. I’m good. It’s raining missiles today, and I left my umbrella back at base.”

  The platoon faced harrying fire along the way but didn’t stop to snuff out the resistance. This wasn’t an assault on the city. It had been a surgical strike carried out with chainsaw precision.

  [Mission Successful - 12,000 XP - 11,200Cr]

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  Everyone had leveled up except June. As the highest level among the platoon already, it would be a while yet before her next bump. The rest of them were all walking around with plus signs behind their level, ready to choose skill points and in some cases, perks.

  “Two more points of Gunnery for me, I think,” Chase said, staring down at his tablet as he sat on the rec room couch.

  “Big surprise,” Lin remarked, fiddling with her name plate, which read “Jadefire, Pilot 11+.” “The little boy with the little gun wants to improve his aim.”

  Chase reddened. “It was a character creation oversight. Get. Over it.”

  “Me? I’m thinking of taking that True Grit perk,” Frank said, jutting his jaw as he held a tablet at arms length, squinting at it like a tourist with a map to the wrong city but unwilling to admit it. “Can never have enough Toughness when the going gets… well, tough.”

  “How about you, Reggie?” June asked, lounging with her feet over the arm of one couch with a pitcher of beer in her hand. Times like it, it was hard to picture her as the prim, slyly flirtatious nurse from the hospital. That uniform must have been like a straitjacket for her if this was what she was like on her own time. “Evening out that NPC build a little, maybe?”

  Chase’s head snapped upright, tablet momentarily forgotten. “Bleep that. Reggie’s like a laser range finder.”

  Frank grunted. “Gimme an iron sight any day over those glorified cat toys.”

  Reggie had this level planned out for a while now. He’d been beaten back to the slums of level 7 so many times of late, he’d quit pondering what his level up might look like. “I guess I’ll stick with Command. I’d had it worked out to get Command Radius 4 this level. Guessin’ you guys wouldn’t mind another crank up the bonus chain.”

  “Pfft. Like I’d say no to that,” Lin said. “I’m not turning down free bonuses.”

  Frank scrunched up his face, tapped a few times on his tablet, and tossed the device onto the pool table with a clatter. “Done.” His nameplate shifted, now reading, “Dogface, Guard 12.” “Now, time to feed the elephant in the room. Once you boys and girls all cross your eyes and sugar your teas, we’ve got a bigger fish to fry.”

  “You lost me somewhere around the elephant,” Chase commented without looking up. For someone intent on just maxing out his Gunnery skill, he was sure taking long enough deciding on his choice.

  “That Romantic Neck fella that roughed up our boy, Reggie,” Frank stated. “I say we hunt down that trash collector and kick him to the curb.”

  “Why would we do that?” Lin asked. “I mean, two missions in a row now, and nothing happened.” She spread her hands like it was an obvious call. “Maybe we just let it go.”

  “Because Reggie’s one of us,” Frank said. “Maybe this here game is just a game to you, but me and Reggie practically live in this place. You don’t let the hobo camp out in your back yard just cuz he hasn’t mugged you this week. Maybe this was just Free Tin of Beans Week down at the rail yard. Maybe he found himself a lady friend. But I swear by the teeth on my nightstand, I seen a thing or two in my day, but I never seen a bully leave a fella alone until he’s had his eye blackened.”

  “I’m in,” Chase said. “Kicking a guy’s bleep for messing with a bud? Sounds all noble and bleep when you put it that way. I can be noble as bleep when I wanna.”

  “I’m in favor,” June said. “All for one; one for all.” She toasted with her beer pitcher and kicked one dangling foot in the air.

  They all looked over at Lin. “What? Yeah. Fine. Maybe we’ll loot some cool bleep from the bleep when we finally bleep up his bleep.”

  Reggie cast a quick sideways glance to June, the only one there who knew his account was censored. She crinkled her nose and gave a short shake of her head, letting Reggie know he was better off in ignorance.

  “Well, that settles it, I guess,” Reggie said with a sigh. “We’ll start looking for The Mechromancer and teach him not to mess with pilots who have friends.”

  Ooh. That came out sounding awful.

  Reggie had never been Mr. Popularity, but that sounded like the kid who refused to shower after gym class and didn’t comb his hair.

  “Cool,” Chase said, tapping one last thing into his tablet before sliding it into a pocket. “I gotta jet. Class in fifty, and I could use some breakfast.”

  “I have a shift I should get ready for,” June added with a sigh.

  Frank twisted his lips this way and that. “Well, if the ladies are logging out, might be as good a time as any to have my yogurt for the day.”

  “You’re all leaving?” Reggie asked plaintively.

  Lin looked over her shoulder as the last one in the line filing out toward the bedrooms. “Well, yeah. We don’t live here. I’ve gotta wake up and stream Dread Flag for a couple hours, then grab a salad and head back to the studio to film a new intro clip for my stream.”

  “Oh,” was all Reggie could think to say to that. “Well… maybe it’s time I took a little break, too.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

  When Reggie awoke back in the pod, he found himself alone. His labored breaths were plain to hear in the bleak silence of the room. The lights were low, just enough for someone to navigate around the equipment without risking injury. He was secured snugly but not uncomfortably to the framework inside the pod.

  He wiggled his nose and felt the tube running up inside and down his throat. Despite the sensation, he no longer gagged on it.

  “Hello?” he croaked, voice dry as stale bread.

  There was no response.

  Reggie closed his eyes and tried to sleep. There ought to have been monitors among the tangle of wires that could tell someone that he was out of Armored Souls.

  He hadn’t logged out to stroll the hospital grounds; he knew they wouldn’t let him. He hadn’t been bored. Reggie was just looking to talk to someone on the outside, to let them know how things were going. He wanted to tell his side of whatever story Dr. Zimmerman might be piecing together from mission logs and beers with June after hours.

  Reggie would have settled for an orderly to talk to, even the guy who swept floors and changed the bags at the end of catheters.

  When sleep refused to claim him, Reggie tried again. “Helloooo?”

  He tried to lick his lips, but his tongue was just as dry. There was a cream or ointment keeping the skin from cracking; it tasted like licking an envelope.

  The door to the pod room opened, and the lights snapped on, searing Reggie’s unprepared eyes.

  “Sgt. King,” Dr. Zimmerman said with an air of puzzlement. “I hadn’t expected you. The daytime staff isn’t due for another… 25 minutes.
If I hadn’t stopped by the nurse’s station with my morning coffee, you might have been stranded here for half an hour.”

  “Nice to know,” Reggie paused and tried to work some moisture into his mouth. “I’m in good hands.”

  “Oh, you’re not in any medical distress,” Dr. Zimmerman assured him. “Quite the contrary. Aside from a little loss of muscle tone, this little romp in juggernaut-land has done you a world of good. I hear your cholesterol hasn’t been better since your enlistment physical.”

  Reggie snorted. “Then why do I feel like I spent a night in a clothes dryer?”

  “I couldn’t say,” Dr. Zimmerman replied. “As I’ve pointed out, I’m your therapist, not your physician.”

  “About that,” Reggie said, forcing a weak grin. “I’m getting there. Got myself a platoon. Solid bunch. Little cranky. Not too military—except this one geezer who’s all right. But they get it done.”

  Dr. Zimmerman juggled his coffee into the crook of his arm as he pulled out a tablet and made notes. “Excellent. Making friends is always a good sign.”

  “They’re all on board. We’re gonna get that bastard Mechromancer.”

  Dr. Zimmerman paused. “You’ve… formed a hit squad?”

  Reggie chuckled, but a dry tickle in his throat turned it into a cough. “Nothing like that. It’s a little about payback and a lot about burying demons. Gonna show I got nothing to be afraid of from that sick fuck.” This time, when he chuckled, he managed not to start a coughing fit. “Man. I miss swearing. That bleep stuff gets on a guy’s nerves after a while.”

  Dr. Zimmerman flashed one of those rare blink-and-you-miss-it smiles. “I use a mod when I play. It turns the bleeps to ‘foop.’”

  “Isn’t that ten times worse?” Reggie asked.

  “I find it fooping adorable,” Dr. Zimmerman replied deadpan. “But I can see how one might find it less than manly. I have two children and a grandchild on the way; I’m secure in my masculinity.”

  “Me too, doc,” Reggie replied. “Not the kid stuff, but the not needing to prove shit to anyone. Just like being able to say what I mean.”

  “Not that this is related to your current treatment, but you may find more catharsis in the creative use of alternatives. Try to convey the same depth of feeling without using the particular words the game alters.”