|Series:||Wiki One Shots|
- Raz Heliod: A rich skin youth with heterochromia. He is a mechanical genius, whose company creates mecha
- J. Michaels: A blonde haired pilot that works for Raz
- MS-57 - Myrmidon: A mass produced machine made for ease of production and customization.
- MS-57 Custom: Raz' personal machine the main difference being the head. While mostly cosmetic it house superior detection equipment.
- MSX-58 - Achilles: A special personal machine used by Raz
- Z9- PF - Polyphemus: A heavy armored machine meant for planetary combat. It's name comes mainly from its single optic head.
Part 1 Edit
"This is terrible..." he said. The youth sported dark skin, black locks, and wore a white jacket over a light blue shirt and deep blue jeans. Around his wrist was a red cloth tied into a knot. His eyes, one was deep green, and the other was strangely gold.
He was at a terminal, looking at the blueprints of a humanoid robot, the kind piloted and taken into war. Around him were several older men and women in white lab coats, clearly not happy with his opinion. "This thing is supposed to be terrestrial based, what is it going to do with such flimsy legs...?"
"But, that's going to put strain on the legs...!" said a scientist.
"That's space you're thinking about. In gravity wells, the legs are going to have to do all the load bearing, instead of just being platforms for jet engines. Also, if you're thinking of 'taking of weight', the more optimal place for that would be the upper body, which...I'm fairly sure everyone can agree that's not a good idea."
"So what are you suggesting...?"
"Micro Servo Cluster Musculature for the legs..."
"It's does not have to be entirely musculature, but they will add to the strength and load bearing power of the legs, without significantly increasing weight. This will leave opportunities for more weapons, parts, or whatever, you want to put on the upper body, the back pack, etc."
"It's a giant robot, walking on two legs, the only means of very fast travel, would be tracks on the bottom of the feet, a squat and the thrusters on its back."
"I...I can't argue with that..."
"I know. It's ironic these things work better in space than on planets..."
"Yes, well this is all well and good but...the budget...?" The youth gave him a cold, soul searing look.
"Then take of some of the missile launchers..."
"But, how then would it counter other heavily armed units...?"
"It has a shield, and now, greater mobility, it can follow the same rule of dealing with ordinance mankind has dealt with for ages...don't be in the way..." With that he got up and left.
"Pompous git, isn't he...?" said one of them.
"So why giant robots...?" asked the woman. She wore a formal black dress, and had blonde hair and brown eyes. She spoke to the young man, who was leaning on the railing looking down at the mechanics assembling the machine he had designed.
"That questions implies a tragic lack of understanding of humans..." he replied. He didn't look her way, but he was clearly aware of to whom he was speaking.
"Maybe, but it doesn't answer my question..." He gave her a glance and turned back to the hangar.
"Mobile Suit, a shortening of the term, 'Mobile Armor Suit', and most commonly referred to as a 'mecha', or 'mech'. The Armor in its name is the same umbrella term for tanks, fighters and even artillery depending on who you ask. 'Mobile', said piece of machinery can move on its own. 'Suit', this implies that it is worn around the user, akin to power armor. A mech can therefore be understood as a cross between a tank and a suit of power armor."
"You really do like avoiding my questions..." He had a look of annoyance on his face "do you even know..." He turned and looked at her, with 'you want to go there...fine' expression, before resuming his prior position.
"It's the presence..."
"Anything done with a mech, you can do with tanks, and probably better. Power armor? Power armor does not have to be a giant tank, it's powered armor, its meant to protect and easy travel for the soldier inside. A mech may combine these two factors, but it does have its own benefits, but the main reason...we can build them, and seeing a giant of metal walking towards you with a gun the length and size of a bus...is not comforting..."
"What other benefits do they have...?" she went to leaning next to him.
"Most mechs are blocks, solid masses of metal and protection, that can usually take more hits than a tank, and carrying shields helps. On land, their weapons outmatch that of tanks, and their general bulk does help in being bullet sponges. In space, their legs are basically glorified platforms for thrusters, combined with their backpacks they can be rather fast, controllable, debatable but they generally carry the same caliber of weapon as their land counterparts, and are generally more durable than fighters."
"They are also more expensive..."
"Get...let's say four to five thousand troopers, all decked out in their fancy armor, and sporting blasters. Get some walkers, let's say another thousand of so of those... Get to Mechs, full armored, sporting shields, and with pilots that could be considered...competent...and the mechs would most likely win." She smirked.
"Are you willing to bet that...?"
"Why...? Your father has already signed the contract, and it's not like you have a couple thousand lives ready and waiting to be thrown away..."
"Well, I never said anything like, starting a war, but I have something that will allow you to...put your money where your mouth is."
Part 2 Edit
"So what...?" asked the pilot. He was a young man in a green flight suit, with brown hair and eyes, and clear complexion. "We just attack them, the two of us...?"
"Two are all that is needed..." said the man with heterochromia. He was in his office drinking tea on his metallic desk, in front of a window to a idyllic colony filled with farmland.
"You're talking about an entire planet...!"
"No, I'm talking about taking on, several bases. The planet is barely inhabited and it really does not have that much of a presence..."
"Several thousand guards..."
"Oh..you heard about that...?"
"EVERYONE HEARD ABOUT IT...!!"
"Still, the Federation has already agreed upon this littler operation, if only as a test run for the new mech."
"Is this all to satisfy your little ego...?! Throwing my life away?!"
"No, my ego is nothing so small..." He knocked that cup out of his hand "You know I'm docking that out of your pay..."
"Get, bent, I am not going on a suicide mission..."
"Mr. Daniels, would you like to know why you're going to that planet...?"
"Because, you are a very skilled pilot, who is rather familiar with out control scheme, in fact you help design it...You're also in serious dept due to gambling problems brought on by your PTSD, which...considering you haven't blown your brains out, is not the worse way to deal with that issue, but I highly suspect if you get fired, or quit, that will be a moot point..."
"...You're a monster..."
"Hardly... I was planning to offer you a bonus of five times you normal salary, but since you just ruined my tea, one of the small luxuries allotted to myself....I think I will just settle with the implications of what will happen if you can't pay your creditors..." he stepped back.
"All that...over some tea...?"
"It was very good tea my friend...now, shoo, shoo!" he said with the hand movements "Go, get briefed."
"This is Michaels, I'm strapped in..." said the pilot. He wore a spacesuit, and sat in a cockpit with curved bar around him with joysticks, peddles at his feet, and several screens with keyboards around him, as he suit in a cushioned chair.
"Excellent." said the operator on the other side of the com-system. Michaels finished his pre-flight checkup of the systems as the strap on his chest tightened. "Your first mission for all of this is simple, you and your partner are going to take out the planetary defense systems, minefields, defense stations."
"Oh great, and that pompous brat wants us to do it in these things...?" There was silence. "What...?"
"Uh..." said the operator, clearly nervous "how do I put it...?"
"Guess who's flying with you...?" said the boss' voice.
"Mr. Heliod...?!" exclaimed Michaels
"Please, call me Raz, or you could just keep calling me 'pompous brat'..."
"Oi...Look, are you sure about this...?"
"I do have confidence in my creations and those I chose to pilot them, Mr. Michaels, perhaps you should take that into account next time you wish to question my judgement."
"...I'm getting docked aren't I...?"
"No...you're with a union. Our mission, for these war games, is simple. Our two units are going to be taking on a light orbital defense. The goal being to take down the two space stations and clear, or bypass the minefields between them."
"...are these dudes...?"
"Of course not..."
"Can these handle such a thing...?"
"These are the space variants of our regular mechs, they are a mass of thrusters in humanoid form. They were also designed for turning. I assume you will be able to adapt quickly..."
"Wait, you just threw me in here, with a suit I'm not familiar with?!"
"No...I'm right next to you remember..."
"Begin launch procedures!"
The two mechs were jettisoned out of the launch tubes of the carrier. Two humanoid machines, with large rectangular ion exhausts on the back of their calves and lower legs, and a circular exhaust in the base of each foot. Instead of the normal mech backpack with two exhaust funnels, they sported pieces that looked like the back of fighter jets minus the cockpit. They were in colors of grey and blue, with a riot shield in their left hands and a rifle in the right hand. Michael's sported a head that had a visor style face, while Raz had one with twin optics to look more humanoid.
"Wait, why does your mech look more...humanoid...?"
"Simple...the rule of cool..." The two mechs sped off at high speed
Part 3 Edit
The two mechs sped towards the target at high speeds. One moved gracefully, the other had a bit of trouble keeping steady.
"Ease of the peddle Michaels, this machine was meant for high speed, movements." Michaels stabilized but he began to trail behind.
"Alright, what's the plan...?"
"I go left, you go right..."
"You are trained for space combat, you don't need me micro managing your actions. Besides, we the minefield is coming towards us..."
"What...?!" Michaels looked at his radar screen. Indeed several pings were closing in on them, and given the pattern of movement, it was not simply because they were speeding towards it. "Clusters..." he growled.
"Yup...I go left, you go right..." The two mech split apart, flying in opposite directions as the large spherical objects followed them, breaking the swarm in two. The Clusters were roughly spherical devices, a collection of light armor plating, small but cheap thrusters, and sensors all wrapped around a warhead.
The two were followed by swarms as they sped away from each other, and though their problem was the same, their solutions were a bit different. Michaels spun, being surprised by how quickly and fluidly his machine turned and spun. His spinning motioned had the intended affect of moving the mines closer to each other, bumping into each other and occasionally exploding. Michael's machine looked down and fire its blaster rifle, setting off chain reactions of explosions that took out large chunks of the swarm. He then fired on them, stopping to take aim and shoot them down. He then turned to see what his boss was doing and was rather dumb founded.
Heliod had dove his machine into the swarm, avoid mines by inches, and maybe centimeters as his machine spun them, its jetpack thrusters pointed down to push it forward with as little chance of hitting something as possible. Out the other end of the swarm, he sped towards his station using the same nimble spinning to avoid the bullets fired his way.
He dive past the gaps in the rings and the connections to the main station, and opened fire on the turrets on the bottom half as he continued to speed onward and then to the side, taking care not to fall too close to the planet's gravity. The swarm slammed into the station, destroying the top half, and starting to push it to wards the planet, but it continued on towards him. Heliod, fired his rifle again, hitting the closest mine, and setting it off, causing a chain of explosions that finished of the rest of the station.
Michaels flew towards his side as Heliod stared towards the other station.
"Do you have a death wish...?" said Michaels
"No...where's the fun of that...? Come, we're not finished yet." He sped off towards the other station.
"You're insane." he cried out as he followed. Some moments later the other station was destroyed in several explosions.
The two machines hovered over the wreckage and remains of the stations. Most, if not all of the pieces would fall to planet below and burn up in the atmosphere, being vaporized.
"Well, on to the next target...!" said Michaels. He was clearly ready to fly down to the planet below.
"No..." said Heliod catching him off guard.
"These machines were designed for space combat, ion thrusters are not going to work well in an atmosphere without a repulsor. If you fly down there no, you're going to crash."
"So we head back to the ship and it will take us down. Our machines will be modified for land based combat."
Part 4 Edit
"What are they doing...?" asked Michaels. He was in a grey jumpsuit drinking some manner of juice out of a grey, plastic bag, via straw. He stood on the catwalk above the engineering bay/hangar, where the mechanical and the mechanical arms some of them operated were busy removing sections of the mechas' armor plating, mainly around they legs, and the backpack.
"Modifying our machines..." replied Heliod. He seemed to barely recognize him as he leaned on the railing with a tablet computer in his hand. He also wore a grey jumpsuit.
"I know that..." He leaned on the railing, next to him "I mean, what are they planning to add?"
"Servo Cluster fibers to the leg structures, with ionic static thruster exhausts on the armor plating for the calves. Don't expect to be flying about, but, it's something."
"The armor has...gaps, hole meant for air intake. On the other end, is an electrical field that charges the air particles and send them flying out at high speed, creating thrust. It also helps that the faster you go, the faster the air in take, and thus the faster you go..."
"Wait...infinite speed...?" Heliod looked at him, with a look that spoke of such grand disappointment. "Okay, not infinite speed..."
"Considering things like air resistance and gravity, and the fact that such a thing would melt the machine and you inside...no, no 'infinite speed'."
"I see...why do we build these..."
"They are weapons of war..."
"I know, but, as cool as they are, they aren't really...practical...."
"An interesting point. We seemed to have always wanted to build giant humanoid robots...since we first thought up the idea. However they do have their advantages."
"Could you have done, what you did just now, with a jet fighter...?" Michaels paused "That was rhetorical. The point is neither could I, but he positioning of the cockpit was done to pit in the center of gravity."
"Less G forces on your body. The shape is also wonderful for those rolls, and turns, they can turn sharper and will fight less. On land, their bodies house a more powerful energy source that allows them to field more powerful weaponry than simple tanks. Their humanoid design also lets them be better at crossing non-uniform terrain."
"Huh..." Heliod gazed it him for just a second.
"Yeah...that's all nonsense...true, but nonsense. We built these things because we could. Then we came up with things to excuse our nerdy fascination." Michaels had a look of disappointment on his face.
"Wow...did, we really just do this...because we could...is that it...?"
"When has there ever been more...?"
"I don't know... when we first went to the moon!"
"...'We did not do this thing because it was easy, we did that because it was hard'..."
"Who said that...?"
"JFK, just after the Apollo Missions. We made idols of our own ambition and sicked them upon our enemies, which generally means each other..."
"...Don't you feel anything about that...?"
"Building instruments of destruction and death...?"
"Perhaps...but perhaps when the war is over, I can focus our concerns towards something less...focused on eradication. But for now...well I just like making them..."
"And they kill people..."
"People kill people...I just want to build giants..."
"Ah, sir..." said a young woman. From the tablet computer she held, she was clearly some manner of secretary. "Your special project it..." Heliod gave her a look "completed...I'll just leave..."
"What was that about...?" asked Michaels
"Something private..." said Heliod who had returned to his normal, stoic demeanor.
"...what, your private stash of 'personal files'..." Heliod simply raised an eyebrow. "Oh come on, that had to have gotten a laugh..."
"Michaels...no, let me not say anything."
"Oh..." said Michaels with amused suspicion. Heliod just rolled his eyes.
The carrier came down past the clouds, having cast of the flames of atmospheric entry sometime ago. Beneath it, disc shaped devices extended out, generating electrical fields beneath the bottom of the ship. These bolts of electricity connected with the ground and the effect or the phenomenon that caused it, kept the ship afloat over the plains and the trees with out the need of major thrusters.
The skies of this world were blue, and the grass and leaves were green, the end result of terrforming projects performed some time ago. The hangars opened and the two machines jumped out, their modifications and thrusters allowing them to maintain an easy cruise besides the ship.
Part 5 Edit
Their jetpacks, were now more like metal boxes with thrusters at the end, while their leg armor was bulkier even without the gaps on the side for air in take. They were clearly meant to be on the ground, now sporting bulkier, heavier shields than what they used in space. Their rifles were much the same, with some modifications not worth mentioning.
"I still don't see why we can't just go after one base together..." said Michaels.
"What, afraid...?" Heliod replied over the com-system.
"Considering, you have us going up against live ammo, for which I expect to be handsomely rewarded...yes, yes I do..."
"Come now, where's your sense of adventure...?"
"...Do, I really need to explain that one...?"
"Hmmm...no, but you do need to go take out that base. Now, go, time is money, mainly mine..." Michaels sighed, and took off to the starboard of the ship, as Heliod left in the port direction.
It was several kilometers, over forests, plains and past mountains, before Heliod approached the coordinates given to him. That was when his HUD brought up three dots, mechas, of a different model and manufacturer than his.With some touchscreen mechanics the dots expanded to magnified images. The Camouflage grey humanoid machines, sported barrel shaped chests, legs with bulky, curved armor plating that hid more thrusters from the calves. Their heads were cyclopean, with a single large optic for the 'face'. On their left arms were shields attached to the shoulder armor plating, and a rod poked out of their backpacks. "Oh...if I didn't know any better my dear, I would swear you were trying to get me killed..."
Heliod raised his shield, cutting his speed drastically and his altitude as the air intake for his thrusters was cut down. As the enemy machine neared, they opened fire, plasma bolts struck his shield, and as they moved over head he turned over, flying with his back to the ground. It was now he raised his fire and fired, taking down one of them with a bolt to the backpack, leaving them to tumble out of the air.
Heliod put his machine in the proper position to land, skidding across the ground, through the forest in he hit and knocked over a tree to kill his momentum. His first action was to move into a thicker group of trees and crouch down. With a few button presses on his keyboard, his rifle changed a bit, the parts moving in predesignated paths to become longer and thinner. He then went about pressing more buttons, changing the options for his command inputs, before turning his mind to the others.
His mind was to the three suits, at that height, it was possible the pilot, if they were piloted, could have survived. So he was looking at two potentially attacking from the air, and one from the ground. Their construction told him they were high powered, with enough energy to keep themselves aloft for a period of time, but they were not built for speed.
The sound of explosions could be heard, the mechs, at least the one's in the air, were firing wildly on the forest. Clearly their detection equipment was not that great, considering that turning of his broadcast was enough to hide him in the trees. He knew he needed to move quickly, if he wanted to keep his cover.
The two mechs were firing wildly down below on the forest. Their companion had landed and no word had came back from him. The forest it self was large, and even starting a fire, their guns were not meant for massive explosions needed to clear the forest. Despite the name 'blasters' especially those of mechs, were meant for piercing damage, taking out bases, and taking down ships in ways fighters could not. Some blasters had 'scatter' functions, with bolts firing in a wide spread, but those were for armies, numbers. This was one lone mech.
"Where is that rich brat...?!" shouted one of them over the radio. As if to answer a long thing, but dense bolt of plasma rose up from the canopy beneath them and entered the chest cavity, from below, striking the cockpit. There was slight stall and the machine's optic went dark as it simply fell out of the sky.
"Crap...!" shouted the other pilot. He began to fire about wildly, but Raz had already moved out of that part of the forest. The same system meant for allowing long distance travel also worked well for stealthy movement among the trees. There was little exhaust to give him away and the ionic thrust system, was not particularly loud. Although that was not really the intention, he had designed a machine that could function rather well for stealth missions.
Raz moved through the forest, keen to be aware of where his enemy was. He didn't lock on, most mechs had a detection system for that. He would have to wait, until he was certain as, at this range he would no doubt pick out his location. Instead something else, noticed him. The plasma bolt struck the shoulder of his mech, stunning him and it would've fallen its side were it not for the programmed responses. He was not sure where it came from but clearly it was the other mech, the one he first shot down. Acting on instinct he opened fire with his rifle, firing a single long and powerful shot that tore through some trees and zoomed of into the distance. Immediately he moved to the side, as a plasma bolts rained in a straight line that passed where he was standing.
Now, he had to wait, His rifle was in a sniper configuration, instead of shooting like an assault rifle, it charged for one powerful shot, powerful enough to puncture typical mech or starship armor plating. He decided to keep moving, he was just as unsure if the other mech was down, now, as when he shot it down. He needed to keep moving, so he did. He kept dart between the trees, always keen to not be in any place, until his rifle recharged. That was when a plasma bolt struck him in the back. He stumbled, and more shot rained down on him. He immediately put up his shield, and blocked the shots.
He crouched down, his shield being withered away with each passing second. Then, he message on his screen. His gun was recharged. He leaned forward and launched several grenades into the air, some exploded there, some came back down in arc and exploded around them. Regardless, Raz, had his opening. His machine flew up into the air, and immediately locked on, the enemy pilot's response was too slow to stop him from attacking, or dodge the beam of condensed plasma that tunneled through his machine's armor and into the cockpit. It dropped like a wait, leaving a trail of smoke.
That was done, now there was just the other one to deal with, the third machine. Raz turned to side, and that was when it hit him, a beam of plasma tore in the shoulder of his gun arm, melting it off, and offsetting the balance of his machine, causing it to spin, until he corrected it. Then came a volley of grenades, aimed specifically at him. Raz didn't have time to the fact that his machine was telling him, he had been targeted. Instead he raised his shield, which was already battered and nearly broken. It was destroyed, and the front half of his machine was either melted, partially destroyed. His right leg was gone, and armor on his left leg was hanging on barely. He fell out of the sky, onto his back and skid, hitting a tree, one of the last few standing in that part of the forest.
Raz was shocked, and then he was angry. Before his attacker walked out of the woods, he already knew, it was not hard to figure out. The Polyphemus Machine, those three brought against him, they were meant for combat against other mechs, fly fast, and bare a lot of damage. It was why he switched his rifle to sniper mode, the normal output would not have been enough to damage them in time. They were also slow, cumbersome, and noisy. They could not have stayed hidden in the trees. Their normal weapon was an assault rifle blaster, plain and simple, and none of them had a sniper rifle, and they certainly did not have grenade launchers.
"Michaels..." said Raz.
"Ooh..." he replied "I can feel your glare even through your machine...Are you calling for help...? Don't bother, we have the only suits left remember...?"
Part 6 Edit
Michaels placed his machine's foot on Raz's chest, pinning his mecha down. He then changed his gun back into rifle mode, causing blue plasma to be vented out of the side in a white gas that rose up.
"Well...?" said Raz, with a tone of annoyance.
"What do you want?"
"...To kill you...?"
"You could've done that without revealing yourself. If this was personal I doubt we would've gotten along so swimmingly. No...the reeks of something...professional..."
"You always have to be the smartest guy in the room huh...?"
"Besides the fact that the 'room' in question, is now an entire planet, thanks. But no, I'm just analytical, call it a force of habit that has made me a lot of money."
"It didn't stop you from falling into this trap..."
"Well, we can't all be perfect. So...who do you work for...no...what do you want...?"
"I suspect there are easier ways to get those..."
"Now, you're just fibbing. We both know the length to which you guard your 'real' secrets. Like that little base of yours, completely void of all but the most basic of operating systems, but completely automated. A mecha manufacturing plant...that is always shut down, and with a Hyperdrive no less. My 'friends' tell me you keep the main operating system on your person, all the files, data, secrets. The OS, which would've turned off the bombs when they tried to examine the equipment. You killed a lot of people for an abandoned warehouse."
"You're a spy..."
"No, not simply a corporate spy, you're a spy, in the mos typical, original sense of the word. You're from another Tribe, another empire. Considering you passed my screenings, you must've had a lot of backers. Why go through all this trouble for little ol' me?"
Where you not listening....? You have secrets we want. During the last war, your machines and weapons designs caused massive damage. You are coming with us, or we are taking you out."
"So which was the priority, take me out or capture me...cause your friends...they didn't seem to keen on catching me..."
"Those were not my friends. It seems I was not the only one interested in you Raz..."
"Don't I feel adored..."
"Now...enough talk." He aimed the rifle at his head "Get out..."
"I'm curious, how in heaven's name do you plan on getting me out of here...?"
"Oh, I have friends in route as we speak..."
"Good to know..."
"Oh, why is that...?" The large imposing looking mecha slammed into the back of Michaels' machine, with its shield sending him flying. Raz, immediately, ejected of his chest armor, to allow him to get out of his cockpit and the machine opened its own. On a mechanical arm, a seat of sorts came down and he got in, and it tucked back into its cockpit.
When Michaels got up, Raz was secured in his new mech and ready for him. Michaels looked at the machine. It was blue and white, with a V shaped crest on its head, two visible optics with a face plate, and thick armor. Its forearms were bulky, and its legs and he wasn't sure if it was for space, or air combat, but it looked like a land vehicle. It was armed with blaster rifle, a larger one to his own, and a thick shield in its other hand.
"You 'special project...?"
"Pretty impressive to get here so fast..."
"So that signal you sent out...?"
"You really don't think you can make it out of here alive now do you...?"
"Oh, wait and see..." There was a pause, and suddenly Michaels leaned forward to fire grenades from his backpack. From Raz's temples came bullet fire that took them down mid-air, the explosions creating a sort of smokescreen. Raz motioned to go back, but his mission it wanted to go to the side, and he ended up doing just that. Michaels was in the air and fired at him. Raz did the unthinkable and flew towards him, the speed so great, he nearly collided as Michaels barely dodged. The two turned around, but Raz was in the position to fire and fired scatter pattern of bolts, which peppered Michaels' machine with holes. His Myrmidon fell out of the sky, a fatal crash avoided only by the parachutes in his backpack, deploying. He was high enough for them to activate.
"So what now...?" said Michaels "You can't just leave me here...!"
"Why don't you get your 'friends' to give you a lift...?"
"Damn you Raz!"
"Many have..." Raz took off at high speeds.
Part 7 Edit
"Transport, Transport...!" said Raz over the com-system.
"Sir...?" said the response "we read you loud and clear, Michaels' signal is..."
"Don't worry about him, he's not coming back. There are genuine hostiles on the planet, we are leaving..." There was a pause.
"So, the three carriers that just jumped into the system..."
"Slag...I will deal with those, you get to space and prepare for a jump back to public space, nearest space port!" Raz's mecha flew up at high speed, easily reach escape velocity and made it into space. His systems picked them up. Three carrier craft, each carrying three more of the machines that attacked him, Polyphemus, they were called.
The nine enemy mechs disembarked from their transports and made their way towards Raz. Raz, however, made his way towards them, at high speed, greater speed than what they could muster. Raz past them and opened fire on their transports, targeting their bridge and thrusters as he dodged and weaved around their returning fire. With the ship disabled, Raz decided to make as much space between them and him as he could, only his machine had other ideas. The A.I. directed him towards the oncoming host of mechs, than away, as he had desired.
Raz put up his shield, blocking their bolts, before he slammed his fist into the keyboard. He accelerated and flew past them before turning to head towards the debris field from their prior space battle. All the while the machine fought him, trying to turn back towards the pursuing fleet. He struck the walls.
"I do not recall making anything so damn blood thirsty..." he growled. For whatever reason the machine decided to comply. Raz made a massive around the debris, moving to the other side and fired his rifle, with a charge shot. The beam came out of the debris field and struck one of the mech in the chest. He then flew out of the field moving towards their side and opened fire, striking another in the legs, the shield and the head, disabling it as he continued onward. He downward, unexpected and faster than they could react, and shot another in the cockpit, and up between the group firing on two more, before breaking off, dodging their return fire.
The remaining five flew after him, and Raz turned over and looked at his respective 'down' and fired at them again, hitting one in the knee cap, blowing of a leg and sending it flying out of control. Another lost its head and was flying blind, colliding with another leaving four.
Raz dead stopped, and the other four four mechs stopped and aimed their rifles at him. A message was sent to Raz
"Surrender to us peacefully and you can live...!"
"Gentlemen...by the time your bolts pierce this armor, I would've died of old age. Don't believe me...try it..."
"So what then...?!" Raz dropped his rifle to side to float away, then flew forward. From the underside of the forearm armor of his machine, came a rod that emitted a fume of plasma, condensed and held in place like a rod. With a swinging motion, Raz sliced a machine in half, and flew forward, opening fire on another's rifle, with his head guns. The damage to the rifle reached its power pack, causing the condensed fuel to ignite in an explosion that took out a good chunk of the machine and killed the pilot. The other two opened fire and spread out.
Raz dove towards the closest one, his shield up, blocking the shots, then at the last moment, his machine dashed to the side, upward and came down, slash and leaving a large of partially melted metal, from the head to the groin. Raz turned to the other, the last enemy mech, who had released his gun and ran for it at high speed. Raz turned off and retracted his energy sword, and returned to claim his rifle. Then without warning, his machine, using the momentum turned around and aimed at the escaping mech. There was a long pause, before his ship arrived behind him, ready to collect him.
"Well that was all most unfortunate..." said the woman, the same one that issued the wager to Raz "But since you failed to destroy the two bases, I guess I won..." Raz was in a suit, leaning over the railing and looking at a Myrmidon being constructed, bare, and barren, it was simply a skeletal mass of servo mechanics, engines, and 'ribcage' to hold crucial parts like the main reactor and the cockpit. He turned and glared at her, with a look that wiped the smug of her face.
"I am going to assume those...extremists, cannot be linked back to you, and if anything, as Michaels said, they were unconnected." He said as he turned back to viewing the construction.
"Aren't we a sore loser..." she said moving next to him.
"What exactly did anyone win today? People are dead..."
"Your new machine worked perfectly..."
"My 'new' machine, is being put through the Fusion Furnaces and reduced to its elemental atoms..."
"Because shipping it in a container to the sun, is both extra cost and waste of resources..."
"That's not what I mean..."
"Because it is a problem, the operating system turns you into a blood thirsty killer, the technology used to make it seems to be worth enough to risk starting a war."
"Huh...after all that about the usefulness of mechs, you're going to destroy your greatest creation...?"
"...Do you know why Mechs exist?"
"You already told, how they can be useful, are useful..."
"They are giant walking robots..." She was silent "Long before we left the homeworld, we decided mechs...as 'cool' as they were...were not sensible... Yet here we are in a factory for mechs, belonging to a company who's product helped win a war. Mechs exist because we let them. First we made exoskeletons...then we put armor on them, and then we made them stronger, and made them bigger, carry weapons. We made humanized tanks...and we decided to make them bigger, put them in the air, in space, hell, we're trying to put them underwater! ...Why..."
"Why did we build these things, if common knowledge told us they were not needed, not viable. Why did we decide to make them viable, to make them needed...?"
"War does not change, never, ever, the tools may, but war does not change...because people don't... With mechs, we followed the path they made for us, and developed them as such, not because of what was needed. We made an arms race because we could. I made that machine to help develop the next generation of OS for specialized high performance mechs. Instead I found it telling me, urging me to kill... A machine...should not have such will..."
"Because it is a slave...?"
"It's a machine, it's not a person, it's a tool. The moment you give it that, a will of its own...that whole relationship, master, tool...that relationship which are you then...the master...or the tool?"