The morning did not come with an abundance of light, sheltered as we were in the shadows of the mountains around us. There was enough, however, to show us the road forward, and more importantly demonstrate another frustrating fact.

Infrastructure did not maintain well in the absence of human intervention. Especially here where the roads had been regularly maintained due to washouts and landslides. In more areas than one we were also forced to maneuver over uneven and unstable terrain. Luckily the Ogre’s and Emet were up to the task, and any area that we came across that was at all in question would be tested and set up by any number of our mech teams. There were a few Ogre’s that had been detailed with carrying construction equipment for that purpose, as well as a few more particular projects when we actually got to Damond proper.

“We’re here now,” I plotted our route on a digital overlay in the command vehicle. There were several team leaders here watching the overlay. The bay with consoles was now considerably larger than it had been yesterday, this of course being the fact that the Emet was designed to unpack to form a mobile operations center. It had nearly tripled in its overall size when in this particular form, and the cockpit had adjusted to form a tower, giving a lookout as well as serving as a radio hub. Above us were general quarters, enough for a dozen people to have a sleeping space, unfolding beds that were better at least than sleeping on the ground. The back of the Emet bore the fabrication structure, just through a bulkhead door that was currently ajar. Alongside the fabricator were four armor bays, each flexibly designed to hold a power armor or exo suit to assist in donning the equipment.

Technically speaking some of the Ogre’s bore such stations as well, but they were a highly varied set of vehicles.

“We’ve made slower time than expected due to the Gen 2 biotics in the area, and we’ve had to slow for road obstructions several times. I want to make Damond by the end of the day, but at the rate we were going yesterday, we’re going to have to split it into two days for safety.” I gestured to Gilramore, now 45 miles - or about 72 kilometers - behind us, “We made great time before we hit the mountains. Now, we’ve got something in mind-” I nodded to Patrick briefly “-but if anyone else has any ideas, bring them up now.”

There were a few moments of thoughtfulness. The majority of the team leaders here were my own, and after the initial surprise of seeing me without my helmet on, they were wholly involved in the process. The others were those that had rated highly enough yesterday to be given the opportunity to be included in these decisions.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Team 13, Cassandra Vera’s group, was in attendance. Team 9 was present as well, Cliff Dodson representing them. He had a contraption of some sort wrapped around his leg where he’d been pierced by a spike yesterday. His mettle surprised me, I knew that it took a lot for a regular person to get back up after something like that.

“Why are we rushing?” Cliff frowned, “Is it a problem if it takes us two days to get there?”

There were a few people who nodded at that even among the Legion.

“I have the feeling that the biotics we’ve faced thus far are atypical. I’m worried about a sentience that might notice us if we take too long to get to Damond. I’d prefer not to have an organized mass of these things rush over a cliffside on top of our camp.” I spoke, laying out what my considerations yesterday led me to believe. “A Gen 2 biotic shouldn’t be willing to destroy itself so easily, and they’re fairly fragile. The only thing that the Spindlies have going for them is their absurdly destructive suicide attack, but they’re not intelligent. When I said living mines, I honestly think that’s all they are. They should be modifying the environment around them, and yet they don’t seem to be intending to use it the way they are. We’ve seen just as many out in the open as we have hiding in tall grass.”

Cliff nodded, “Well, that’s a whole other bag of snakes then. Should we charge right into what might be a true Gen 2 biotics territory, or take it slow?”

I tapped the map, “If we can make good time, we can get out of the mountains and into more open space and have a relatively straight shot the Damond from there. This helps us more than them, given that the Spindlies will be able to do more damage to us if they can get close, rather than us hitting them before they ever get the opportunity to close in.”

The man mulled that over for a few seconds before assenting to the overall plan, “Alright, I can get behind that. Yesterday we used some kind of gas to stop the things from exploding as badly. Do we have a lot of that?”

Jeremy Strauss shook his head, “Yes and no. We have a pretty good amount, but not so much that we should deploy it regularly. It’s supposed to help us more in a defensible position, but out here, on the move? Not so much.”

“We’re running into problems with the scouts,” Another man spoke, “We’re trying to pick up where all of these things are, but we still don’t know what sets them off. I personally walked up on one, just a few meters away, and it didn’t respond at all. My companion did, and it woke up immediately. Another time, I was several dozens of meters away when one responded and started moving. Not knowing what triggers these things is putting a lot of stress on the point-team,” at that he nodded in the direction of Strauss, myself, and a few other leads.

“I think we have something that the Reaper can use to help with that.” Patrick spoke up, “We were going to save it for last, but it’s better, I think, to start using it now.”

The scout leader turned a sharp eye to Patrick, “What’s up your sleeve?”

He tapped the edge of the hologram table with the crystal embedded in the back of his right hand, the system keying in on what he wanted. The picture of a large, four legged mech came into view. “We can use this.”

“Wasn’t that the thing you complained was a hunk of scrap the other day?” One of the team leaders next to him chuckled amusedly, “Did you get it working?”

There was a round of laughing, “Yeah, yeah, yak it up, you bastards.” Patrick smirked, “We figured out how to get it working, we think. It’s not gonna be perfect, but what we’re looking to use isn’t the mech, but it’s minions.”

“Hmm… I like where this is going.” I heard someone say.

“As the control unit on the mech isn’t up to par to control several child units,” I spoke, switching the view to the six foot tall drones equipped with heavy weapons, “I’ll take control of these to help as the new primary ring for the point-team. After the casualties we took yesterday, I’m certain we can say unanimously that we’d be willing to give this a shot.”

With a look around, no one disagreed.

“What about our teams?” Cassandra spoke up, “What’s our role?”

The scout leader scoffed, “What indeed? Yesterday I asked five of you Outsiders for scouts to help with the situation. Each of you said it wasn’t your job.”

“You didn’t ask us, then,” She responded, crossing her arms, “We’ve got a few scouts that we can lend to the cause. And I’d be personally willing to stand on the front line.”

“Now that there’s machine assistance.” My Legion member spoke.

“Enough of that,” I glared at the man, “I made it clear that we were on the same team when this venture started. To be sure,” I settled on the group at large, “If I find anyone intentionally not helping the group as a whole, I’ll boot you out of our convoy on the spot. We certainly don’t have time for in-fighting out here. Am I clear?”

“Crystal,” the man frowned, but seemed genuine if only frustrated. I could see similar expressions, and couldn’t blame my Legion members.

“There have been several cases where Teams have been less than forthcoming in rendering competent assistance.” I allowed, noting the slight quirk of the lips on Strauss’ face. “And those cases are being documented for assessment at the end of this.”

Given the expressions on the so-called ‘Outsiders’ faces, this was not what they’d been told. There were several that didn’t seem surprised at all, which I supported with, “This should come as no surprise to anyone present. If I find you lacking, I’ll bench you and try to find another opportunity to test you. If you fail repeatedly, then of course you’re not going to be a recognized team. Those of you that are here right now have passed the first rung. The teams still in their Ogre’s right now? Most of them are people who thought the job wasn’t hard after killing a few wolves in a cleared and controlled space around Gilramore.”

I leveled my gaze at Cassandra a bit longer at that before continuing on, “Keep your eyes up, help us to help you. We’re live or die together out here.”

“Now, to get back on topic,” I gestured at the map, bringing up our suggested formation, several units of scouts would stay active around the formation like satellites. The middle would have a pack of Ogre’s driving while mech-based artillery would destroy scout painted targets. Anything that woke up after the scouts passed would be destroyed by the Determinators - as Patrick lovingly called them - under my direct control. Then, any groups willing to volunteer for point control would take shifts with one another. Unlike before, there wouldn’t be any direct Legion supervision. At this point, if you stepped up but didn’t have the skills, you would be putting yourself and the convoy at risk. There were a pair of auto turrets seat up on a few of the lead and trailing Ogre’s, set to fire upon any biotic that got into range.

It would protect the convoy more, but also put point defense in a much tighter situation. If you failed at stopping a Spindlie, or ran for cover back to the convoy because of a loss of control, then you might very well just die when the turret hit the biotic if it didn’t sustain enough damage to disable it.

If you were skilled and concentrated, you could get rid of the Spindlies before it became a major threat. Theoretically, there would be fewer of the biotics than before if the Determinator Phalanx formation worked, but we won't know until we try it.

Legion teams would form up the first leg of the journey, and every hour we would rotate the teams to keep awareness fresh. The scouts would be a mix, half and half, before rotating.

“If we do this right we shouldn’t lose anyone today.” I glanced around, “And scouts, be liberal with your target painting, ammo is something we have plenty of. I’d rather overkill than underkill, got it?”

The scout leader from earlier smiled widely, “I’ll make sure that gets around.”

“I do love explosions when they’re ours.” I heard one of the artillery team leads laugh.

“Get ready to move out, we’re leaving in ten. Dismissed.” I straightened at the table, putting on an air of authority that I felt was getting easier and easier to access every time I needed it.

The room filtered out, save for a few individuals. Jeremy, Patrick, and Cassandra stayed behind.

Cassandra glanced to the other two, but then settled her gaze on me, thinking on something.

“Don’t mind us,” Patrick stretched, “We’re all in this for the long haul. Ah, I’m Patrick, by the way.”

“Jeremy Strauss,” the thickly, carefully trimmed angular bearded man beside me nodded in greeting.

“Cassandra Vera, nice to meet you.” She said, a small smile on her face.

Patrick and Jeremy gave each other a surprised look, “As in Hunter’s Order? That Cassandra Vera?” Jeremy blinked.

“Yes.” Her stance shifted subtly, more defensive, “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Patrick chuckled, “I’m just surprised.”

“Well, glad to see that there’s someone willing to put their money where their mouth is, at least,” Jeremy nodded, “Glad to have ya.”

She seemed taken aback by the response, “We’re not here to suppress people. As much as I have little patience for politics, I’d like to say that I try to keep an open mind in places like this.” I smiled.

“And I do appreciate that.” She seemed honestly grateful, “I just wanted to also thank you for keeping this fair. After seeing some of the other teams, I know that it can’t be the easiest thing to be giving such chances.”

“We all have to do things to prove our beliefs are real,” I nodded, “If I wasn’t willing to give others a chance at stepping up to the plate, how can I say that humanity should be fighting against biotics?”

“There was one other thing I wanted to discuss.” She paused, her thoughts racing as she considered how best to say what she wanted to say next. “At first when I came out here, I wanted my team to be recognized for how skilled they are. But, now, at the risk of sounding like an incredible suck-up, I have to recognize that we’re not really that special. You’ve got four teams that are better than mine.”

“Oh, only four?” Patrick commented with dry humor, “You sure?”

“Yes.” She stated flatly, staring at him, “I’m quite familiar with my own teams capabilities. I can say for certain that my team is only behind yours, Jeremey’s team, Matthew’s team, and that… scout leader’s team, I don’t know his name.” She shook her head, “Look, the point is, I want to be held to a higher standard. Put us through the ringer, don’t give us special treatment because you think we’re gonna die out there. We can take it.”

I stared at her, deep in thought on that as the others considered me.

Whether or not she was really as good as she thought she was, I had to recognize when someone wanted an opportunity to prove themselves. That was the point of this whole mess.

“Alright. Then you’ll be on point with the Legion. We’ll be watching you the whole time to see what you bring to the table. When we enter Damond, you’ll be my left hand. Just remember that you asked for it.” I smirked, the challenge clearly met in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she turned then, “I’ll see you at the front.”

“Anybody else feeling some unresolved tension there?” Patrick chuckled, giving some kind of knowing look to Jeremy.

“What?” I frowned, confused, not picking up on the meaning.

“Nothing, nothing,” he waved me off, “But what do you think?”

I considered the situation, “I think I want her.”

Patrick and Jeremy froze then, surprised. Confusion washed over me at their response, “If she and her team are as good as they say they are, I want to poach them.”

“Oh. Uh, sure, yeah, that’s what you meant.” Patrick scratched the back of his head.

I shook my head, even more confused, “Well, let’s get to it then.”

Unknown to me, Patrick and Jeremy began subtle inquiries to see if two certain individuals were in something more than a professional relationship.

A minute later I was departing from the Emet as it began to fold back in on itself, the convoy all around humming to life, electrical engines remarkably silent in the wilderness of the mountain gorge.

I took up position on the lead Ogre, sitting on top of the machine cross-legged. Methodically, I began to flex my cyber-muscles, feeling the many winding arms and streams of data that made up my digital self. This would be the largest operation I’d performed yet, and I wasn’t certain yet if it would even be possible.

Steadily I searched for the electronic connection I needed, finding it a few moments later. I pushed through a barrier, like moving through a bubble that didn’t pop when breached, and found myself in digital landscape similar to many before. Human technology interacted with me like bathing in fresh water, a little on the cooler side, and smelled like warm honey. It was odd to say something like that, but sensations became a little strange in this form.

This, however, had a distinct second odor, coppery, and engaged my eyes in a silvery sheen like moonlight on water. I drove my senses forward, my arms seeking and sensing on their own. The camera system came to life then, and I was looking into the face of Patrick Bentley. I didn’t engage any of the motor systems for the carrier unit, it simply wouldn’t be needed here.

To his right, I could see another familiar face.

“Matt, you good in there?” Daniel knocked on the mech, receiving a chuckle from Patrick.

“I just turned it on, I don’t think he’s in there yet.” The man said, turning his attention to the many coffin-shaped containers on the back wall and on racks.

“I’m here,” I said, enjoying the jump he made and the grin on Daniel’s face. “Hold on, I’m bringing the Determinators online.”

“You called them Determinators?” Daniel turned to Patrick.

He flushed, “Err, well, yeah. I mean, it seemed fitting enough. They’re kinda like the ones in the movies, but also are meant to be able to swing a fight in our favor. So, you know.”

“No, no,” Daniel waved, “I get it, I like it. Hell, I named my big gun ‘Big Bertha,’ I ain’t got room to talk.”

“That rail-gun?” He asked, “Fitting, actually.”

I rolled my eyes, feeling for the connections, following the silvery lights and the taste of copper. One by one, I connected an arm into each source like a socket, and felt my awareness expand. I tested systems, bodies, feeling for the diagnostics that each unit would perform. A simple being seemed to unfurl under the ministrations of my limbs, ready to work.

‘We weave as one, now. Us.’ Weavy whispered to them, and I felt the response from the rudimentary A.I.’s as they accepted the attachment in full.

‘What was that?’ I blinked, somehow not feeling wary of whatever the Wolven-clone was doing.

‘Only accepted them. We asked nicely.’ It beamed, ‘No rapey-ness, as requested.’

I shuddered, ‘Okay, please don’t remind me of that if you can.’

‘Sorry, we don’t mean to bring hurts back.’ I felt a pulse of understanding, ‘But look, we are weaving! It is stronger than it was, weave with us?’

I paused, noting that the arms were stringing together, slipping through each other and slowly braiding themselves into a much denser mass. Uncertain of the goal, I began to do so as well, feeling through the process as it became faster and faster.

It was refreshing and calming, and the disquiet I remembered from what had happened to me sank in the background once more. Finally, after what had only been seconds in reality but felt like minutes here, we were finished.

“Open.” I commanded aloud, every coffin container hissing pressurized air as they swung open. Daniel and Patrick warily approached the racks.

“Alright, they look pretty badass,” Daniel nodded, “Fair name.”

“Awaken.” I pulsed, one primary eye flaring red, four separate inputs on the sides and back of the Determinator’s heads coming active. My control expanded, and it was now that I could see what the issue had been in controlling them. They were a unified whole, barely able to walk on their own previously. The A.I. that had been installed had been told ‘how’ to move, and simulated it dozens of times, and in theory could walk from one side of the room to the other, and much more.

But, it hadn’t been given the ‘why’ or the ‘what’ of the situation. I filled them with purpose, gave them the why of their existence to be whatever I needed them to be. I could sense the A.I.’s distort, their existences melting into my own.

I could feel them joined into my arms, and before I could stop them, I realized that I’d just adopted 36 killer Determinator A.I.’s into myself.

‘This one thinks perhaps that was overzealous,’ Wolvey warily informed me, ‘But ultimately thinks the Us knows what they’re doing?’

‘Uhh… I didn’t do that.’ I felt the both of us look at each other in our digital forms, a moment of ‘Oh shit’ crossing our minds.

We spent the next minute in reality diving through our own being, checking and rechecking to make sure some rampant data corruption wasn’t going on. That minute in reality was closer to an hour of digital work as our processing spiked.

Finally we came back together.

And both could only shrug ‘I didn’t see anything that seemed off, did you?’

‘We think perhaps we jumped conclusions?’ Wolvey turned its attention to the arms themselves, ‘Perhaps the A.I.’s thought they could do their jobs better here? We did tell them they existed for us, to be whatever we needed them to be?’

‘Lovely.’ I dryly commented, ‘Well, what’s the worst that could happen?’

I reconnected to the drones, pulsing once more to bring them online the last bit.

36 voices joined as one, “We are Legion! For we are many!”

“Well shit.” Daniel commented, “That just gave me chills.”

‘Well shit, indeed.’ I sighed, wondering what possible repercussions this would have in the future.