Fire at Will [Mech Sci-Fi Military]

PRELUDE TO WAR

The news of the temple delegation's arrival sent the base camp into a frenzy. It was only a week until the start of the General Assembly, and they were still no closer to finding the Hand's hidden base. People moved with frantic urgency as the search went on, and it was only by luck that Will managed to get hold of Damian when he stopped by headquarters.

"Anything new?" asked Will, but his older cousin shook his head.

"Nothing," Damian said grimly. "It's just as we suspected. The Hand's subsidiaries don't have any locations that match the signature readings. We might have to take some drastic measures if we don't find them soon."

"Damn..." Will muttered quietly, his voice tinged with worry. "I heard the Hand has ceased all of their attacks."

"Yeah," Damian said slowly. "It's been quiet."

"Too quiet," Will agreed. It was almost like they're preparing for something big.

"How sure are you they won't attack until the Senate vote?" asked Will.

"Nothing is certain," Damian sighed. "But the meeting will be the gathering of the most powerful and senior members of the military, the Tower, and the outer territories. It'll be the perfect time to cripple our entire leadership."

Will bit his tongue. Everything was ready to implode. The Tower was on the verge of civil war. Rumors were flying around, but what was certain was that a resolution was being pushed to censure the military. The airship bombings and now the civil unrest — the Tower would eagerly capitalize on this debacle and push for a supervisory role over the outer territories. How successful they would be was up for debate. The vote was close, and with the addition of the temple delegates, the outcome could swing either way. Tension was thick in the air.

Damian clapped Will on the shoulder, breaking him out of his musings.

"Don't space out. This isn't the time for losing your head."

"Right..."

"Get your mech ready ASAP," said Damian. "As much as I hate to admit it, we need more bodies in the field. The mech — get it done."

Will nodded, and Damian strode off, his boots thumping loudly against the tiled floor. Will headed for his workshop, not wanting to waste a single second. There was much work to be done.

Days passed, and Will kept working. His seizures got worse by the day, and half the time he was on the floor trying to calm his raging channels. There was barely any time left to work on the mech, yet he persevered.

Tense news came from the front, but Will tuned it out, his sole focus on adjusting the field generators. The tuning, syncing, and testing were done in phases, and finally, on the second day, he was finished.

Will stepped back and looked at the sleek, gleaming silver mech before him. Under the workshop lights, the mech's smooth, polished armor plating gleamed, its streamlined contours hinting at the machine's speed.

Will's gaze was affixed to the mech, taking it all in, when his slate began to buzz.

"Hello?" Will brought the slate to his ear, not taking his eyes off the mech.

"Will," came Becca's breathless voice from the other end of the call. "The Hand made a move. One of the forward outposts has been attacked."

"Send me the coordinates. I'm heading out."

"The mech?" Becca asked, surprised.

"It's finished," said Will, stepping forward. With a series of clicks, the mech opened up and Will climbed into the machine, his expression grim.

"Finally!" Becca breathed, and she rattled off the directions to her location.

"Copy that," said Will. "Hang tight. I'll be there soon."

Will stowed away the slate, adjusting his limbs within the frame. The chassis slung closed with a hiss, and he slipped the helmet on.

'Welcome, User-903A. Establishing machine-human interface.'

Green text flashed across the HUD for a moment, and Will acknowledged the prompt.

'CAD connection established. G-class prosthetic limb detected. Adjusting controls.'

The suit began adjusting its frame, and Will felt the armor tighten around him as it clicked into place, fitting him like a second skin. The armor clung so close that it was almost an exosuit. With a final clang, the mech sealed itself and the engines rumbled to life.

Will flexed his fingers and felt the power coursing through the machine, which was now an extension of his body. The faint tingle of the field generators buzzed in the background, ready and waiting.

Will let out a breath. With a final check of the readouts on his HUD, he stepped out of the warehouse.

Outside was a beehive of activity after the latest attack, and Will hitched a ride on one of the APCs heading for the outpost.

The armored truck's suspension struggled over the bomb-ravaged roads. Will and the soldiers, however, barely moved—jostled but still, their backs pressed to the seats. Grim-faced, they scanned the surroundings—ambushes were all too common out here. But no attack came, and fifteen minutes later, they arrived at their destination.

They trooped out of the truck, and Will climbed out along with them. Men were already moving about, sifting through the rubble. He spotted Becca in the distance, striding through the wreckage and scanning the debris.

Stolen novel; please report.

Will strode toward her, and she raised her hooded head. A black balaclava obscured her face, but there was no mistaking her green eyes.

"Will," she greeted, nodding toward the rubble. "They did quite a number on us."

"What's the damage?" asked Will.

"Six Humvees and the armory," said Becca.

"The entire stockpile? What the hell are they doing?" Will exclaimed, looking at the other merc groups combing through the wreckage. The territory was jointly protected with other security groups, and someone up the line had messed up.

"You got the armor running," came a gruff voice.

The crunch of gravel was the only warning Will got before Damian was suddenly beside him. Fortunately, his faceplate hid his startled expression.

"Damian!" he exclaimed. "You got here fast."

"I was in the neighborhood," said Damian, scanning the rubble with a frown. "The damn Condors will be throwing a fit after this."

"Condors?" asked Will, and Damian waved toward the milling mercs off to the side. Their military camo had small starbursts with a pair of wings in the center.

"These the same assholes that have been stonewalling us at every turn?" asked Will, remembering the territorial dispute Becca had mentioned.

"The very same," Becca sighed. "Their captain is a real piece of work."

"Speak of the devil," Damian muttered, looking irritated.

A stocky, bearded man with bloodshot eyes approached them with purposeful steps. He was half a head shorter than Damian, yet somehow, with his raised chin, he managed to look down on everyone who passed by. Kicking aside a piece of rubble, he stepped up to Damian, eyeballing him with distaste.

"You have some nerve coming here," the short man spat.

"Good morning to you as well, Captain Jorg," said Damian dryly.

"Good?! You think this is funny?" Capt. Jorg poked Damian in the chest. "If you were in my battalion, I would've stripped you of your rank! Now explain this debacle you've caused!"

Damian casually brushed off the captain's finger and dusted off his shirt. "Whatever do you mean, Captain? My team was at their designated posts—which are still standing, I might add."

The captain looked livid. "Where was the intel? Those saboteurs wouldn't have reached the outpost if you hadn't let them!"

"Hadn't let them?" Damian asked in a dangerous voice, no longer amused.

"Yes! Hadn't let them. Things were fine before your team arrived, and now we have bombings almost every day. If I didn't know any better—"

"Be very careful with your next words, Captain," Damian interrupted. "Or I might decide to take you up on that offer you made in our first meeting."

Capt. Jorg turned purple in the face. His fists shook with anger, but seeing the impassive, half-amused look on Damian's face, he thought better of it.

"This isn't the last you'll hear of this," he hissed. Giving Damian one last venomous look, he stalked off.

"Lord, protect me from my friends; for they are worse than my enemies," Damian muttered, disgusted.

Will glanced at his agitated cousin. "Something tells me this outpost was far more strategically significant than you let on."

"Oh? What makes you say that?" asked Damian, his expression neutral.

"The fact that you're personally here, despite us being low on personnel," said Will.

Becca shifted her gaze, now fixed on Damian, eager for an answer. Damian glanced between the two of them, weighing his options, and finally relented.

"Alright, I suppose it's time to bring the two of you up to speed."

A translucent blue shimmer encased the three of them before Damian spoke in a hushed tone. "The most likely place the Revenant will strike is the central pillar."

Becca looked pensive. "The Tower's main foundation pillar?"

Damian nodded. "It's the only way to bring it down. The Tower can take a couple of nukes relatively unscathed, but if the central pillar goes down..."

"The whole thing topples over," Will finished, his heart beating fast.

"This outpost, along with six other checkpoints, provides direct access to the main tunnels leading to the center," continued Damian.

"They're trying to soften you up," said Will.

"Wherever their base is, they'll eventually have to pass through here if they want to reach the pillar," said Damian. "We have to hold this ground no matter what."

"Hold on..." said Will, his mind racing. "We still don't know where their base is, but we know where they'll be. So why don't we—"

"No," Damian cut him off flatly before he could finish. "I know what you're thinking, but no. We've got to stop it before it gets anywhere close to that point."

"Right," muttered Will.

"You two secure the area along with the rest of the crew. I'll handle our resident moron," said Damian, glancing at Capt. Jorg. "I wouldn't be surprised if he uses this as an excuse to kick us off the security detail."

Will nodded, and Damian headed off. Along with Becca, he went about helping the security team clear the perimeter. All the while, Will remained worried about their lack of progress. There was barely any time left, and the meeting was mere days away.

"Where the hell is it?" Will muttered.

Becca looked at him quizzically, and Will shook his head.

"I was just thinking about the Hands' base. It has to be somewhere here."

He looked around the surrounding buildings, frustrated.

"I somehow get the feeling that we are missing something obvious."

"The Revenant and the Hand are no fools," said Becca. "They've managed to survive this long. I doubt they would make their staging area easy to find."

"No fools..." Will repeated, lost in thought. One must always give their enemies their due. It would be foolish to think them stupid.

"So they would avoid the most obvious places," muttered Will, still thinking.

Where would he hide such a base? Where would Damian and Trapper hide such a base? The duo were the most wily and conniving people he knew.

He remembered their double act during the round-table meeting: they pretended to be enemies while secretly allies. Will took in a sharp breath, and a chill went down his spine.

"Becca... I just had a crazy thought," said Will as he pulled up his HUD and made a call. It was barely through before he heard two pings as Becca and his cousin joined the call.

"What's wrong?" asked Damian sharply. "Did something happen?"

"Damian, Becca, this is going to sound crazy, but hear me out," began Will.

"Go on," Damian said warily, while Becca nodded.

Will's next words came in a rush. "What are the chances the Condors are working together with the Hand?"

Silence followed the proclamation as the two digested what was said.

"Why do you suspect the Condors?" Damian finally asked.

"The Revenant uses proxies. The Hand is their political wing, but what's stopping them from funding their opponents as well? The Condors would be the perfect backchannel to leak info," said Will, breathlessly. "The Hand and the Condors use each other to remove problematic dissenters within their own faction, all the while securing themselves as the de facto leaders in their wing. The Captain was right; things had been going swimmingly for them until we joined. They would have secured all paths to the Tower and had a straight shot to the central pillar."

"That's..." began Becca.

"Crazy?" Damian suggested.

"Yes."

"But it isn't insane enough for me to ignore," said Damian.

"Didn't we do a background check on the Condors already?" asked Becca.

"Yes, a cursory look," said Damian. "We might have missed something. I'll look into this. You two sit tight."

Damian cut the call, and Becca glanced at Will.

"What do you think?"

"I guess we'll find out soon enough."

The rest of the day went by slowly. The outpost remained quiet through the evening, and it was around nightfall that Damian finally called back.

"Did you find any proof?" asked Will eagerly.

"Nothing definitive," said Damian. "But there is enough smoke here for a fire."

"What did you find?" asked Becca.

"One of our contacts confirmed that the weapons used by the Condors and Revenant come from the same manufacturer."

"That doesn't mean much," said Becca.

"The manufacturer is the Revenant. They build their own," said Damian. "And there is a go-between spotted between the two factions, a cyborg. We are still waiting to confirm his identity."

"So what now? Do we investigate further?" asked Will. "I'm sure we'll find something."

"No. There is no time," said Damian coldly. "We need to shake things up. Things cannot go on as they are."

"So, the Condors are the target," said Becca.

"Yes, prepare yourself," Damian said, his voice steely. "We attack at dawn."

Will sucked in a breath, his heart beating fast. Things were finally moving.