The base was in a state of constant motion. On this expedition we’d suffered seven Legion casualties, and ten volunteers, bringing our total thus far to seventeen. That in itself, I suppose, I should have been able to take some solace in, we were below the fatalities of the Wolven operation, and the mine raid. I couldn’t bring myself to feel happy about that number, though, in light of the additional intelligence that we’d gained on the Spindlies themselves and becoming aware of their weaknesses. It certainly didn’t help that we had a hefty number of injured, however, there were approximately thirty, many of which with injuries serious enough that they would not be returning to the field in short order. That removed a great deal of our defensive force, but for now there was an equilibrium imposed between ourselves and the siege. Our endeavors just now certainly had an effect on that outcome, removing three from the fight, two Carriers of which were outright dead.

While I was entangled with my quarry, Strauss and Richard had managed to wear down the other, acid having eaten into its armor enough to damage the tissues beneath. What had really downed that one, however, was generous applications of poison that Richard promptly flooded its injuries with.

Five minutes later it had attempted a suicide charge into the Raijin Field, feeling its end near as it’s silvery blood pumped with deadly chemicals.

As promised by Terry, the field performed lighter attacks that would murder anything smaller than an elephant up until a few meters further.

Then successive thunderclaps filled the air as the biotic vented it’s now vaporized insides to its outsides.

I shook my head, seeing the carcass sparking even now, the sensors occasionally confirming the demise of the subject. Later we could clear the field, but for now we’d be just as well leaving it as a reminder for the remaining five Carriers.

As I approached one of the three mustering fields in the base, though, I felt a dull throbbing headache emerge. Morale was high, and there were more than a few that gave me respectful nods as I passed, those individuals often responsible for ferrying ammunition to the artillery groups and those on the walls. It had circulated that I’d single handed cut my way through the insides of one of the Carriers.

Richard and I explicitly decided not to mention that it was highly weakened from a massive amount of acid. It’d be better for everyone to think that we were in a much better state than we were.

If we had just one fewer Carrier to deal with, the bulk of our forces could leave the defense to the automation. So far, the biotics were content with forcing us to continue the artillery barrage, though we’d lightened the pace considerably.

It was clear that the Carriers bore some kind of regenerative plating. Between our recordings of the battle and the damage the armor had shown, there were no two pictures quite a like. They were growing their armored carapace as fast as we were damaging them, leaving us with a stalemate. So, we continued to hit them, but focused mostly on direct hits on the Spindlies. The best moment to hit one was with a sniper as they emerged from the Carrier; for one reason or another the Spindlies refused to explode so close to the larger biotic. That gave us more ideas to use in the future, likely a pre-programmed response so they couldn’t accidentally harm their spawners.

I’d have rathered been out there again, though, as my eyes settled on a gathering of twenty-eight people in the mustering yard. They were thoroughly worn out, it looked, and some had their hollow, sunken-eyed gaze settling on the ground. A handful only looked like they were sitting up, their eyes closed as they managed to catch some sleep.

Alex Werrick looked up from his place near the front of the formation, set off from them just slightly, his eyes meeting mine. His gaze carried a subtle defiance upon seeing me, but also an undercurrent of weariness, and perhaps not the slightest amount of defeat.

I approached, glancing back over his people, trying not to feel contempt for him and his ill-thought venture. It was true that they hadn’t registered with my Legion for the expedition, and for that I could only shake my head in frustration. But what they’d done that truly exasperated the issue was to follow us into what was very clearly alien territory. The coral reef formations and especially this particular strain of biotic was utterly anathema to infantry divisions.

They should have been able to see that easily and simply not chosen to advance.

‘That’s easy for me to say, though,” I groaned internally, ‘I’m already established. Would I be so desperate? But, then, I don’t even know why they’re really doing this.’

It had been clear already that Alex was siphoning a not-insignificant amount of Matter Energy from his followers for use on questionable antics.

I decided to take pity on them, however, and I didn’t intend on throwing them out of my base on the grounds of what had happened prior. Now that I’d saved them, I at least would take responsibility for them. My attention turned back fully on Alex, who now came to a standing position. The few attentive gazes in the group looked up at us, one or two sounds of light sobbing coming from somewhere in the group. Their morale was shattered, the near-encirclement by the Carriers likely just another thing that had gone wrong on their own personal expedition. Some had probably realized what would have happened if they hadn’t gotten assistance. And who knew how many of their group had started with in the first place? For all I knew, the twenty-eight men and women that remained were half of what they’d had.

Alex seemed to be waiting for me to speak, in spite of him being the one who had asked me out here. I was content to wait for the time being, but I wouldn’t play this game. He was an unwanted guests in my base, and there was a certain iron-clad drive to ensure that he was the one giving proper respect to me. I wasn’t here to serve his needs or come at his beck and call.

Those around us could clearly feel the tension increase, almost palpable in the air. I stood there, occupying myself with moving the Determinators to the wall where the Carriers were, with exception to a handful spread on the flanks. For another thirty seconds I’d sorted through the battlefield data, and checked on the status of our air support.

Pleasantly, there were only about five more minutes before we’d have RR&D’s new toys to play with.

‘There’s a hard-cap on your time now,’ I glared from my opaque helmet at the man in front of me. The prideful arrogance he displayed, the misplaced defiance against my Legion, and foolhardiness of his entire scheme disgusted me. I could see little facial tics betraying what may have been frustration for him, or for all I knew he was keeping from laughing at me in wasting my team in such a manner. He could stand here all day.

I had a job to do.

And that was the thought that finally slipped my patience. Wordlessly I turned and started to walk away, if he wanted to play this game, he could do it with people who gave a shit about politics.

“Hey, don’t just turn your back on me!” The man shouted in outrage, “I asked you out here.”

“Fuck. Off.” I venemously spat, pausing just long enough to look back at them, “I saved your fucking lives, and you don’t even have the gods damned dignity to thank me for it? Fucking ridiculous.” I turned back around, feeling heat pump in my chest as a trickle of adrenaline cycled in my system. I reigned that in immediately, remembering what had happened in the field with the Carrier; I certainly didn’t need to duplicate that here.

With my suit, I could see his expression warp without turning to look at him. The way it distorted from outrage, shame, and consternation again. I shook my head, not interested in getting into an argument with someone that would probably have been dead if I hadn’t saved them.

Someone else, though, caught my attention as they rose and moved forward. They were fast, stumbling feet that barely caught themselves. I turned, feeling a wrathful fury building in my gut that begged to be released in a back-handed smash.

Which extinguished the moment I saw the red-eyed face of a man who’d clearly been crying. He held his breath, stopping well outside of arms reach, sensing a shift in my stance. The tension in my arms leaked as I saw the conflicted look on his face.

“I’d just like to say,” he began, taking my relaxed pose as permission to speak, “Thank you. I know we were straight fucked, so thank you. That doesn’t mean much out here, but I’m sure there are others who feel the same.” He looked back to the group. I didn’t sense any ostracizing glares, just a mixture of agreement, grief, tiredness that came from people who’d nearly died.

I nodded to him, “We’re all people.”

Something clicked then, and it felt like something I’d half-remembered from my old life snapped back into place. A gush of emotion, perhaps sentimentality smothered in joyous satisfaction, seeped into my bones.

‘Damnit… I guess Alice was right,’ I thought whimsically, ‘I guess this is something that we should be doing, too.’

“Whatever we do, whatever we want to be and the paths we take to get there, our goal is the same. We’re not enemies, and never should be.” I turned my gaze to Alex, feeling all muster and spite drain away from me in that rare moment of inspiration, “There are plenty of enemies out there. We don’t need to make more of them.”

That statement found a chink in Alex’s armor. His gaze softened, filled with introspection, as he seemed to find his own conclusion. The man shook his head with what felt like a self-depreciating chuckle and looked back to me with what felt like a genuine and renewed fervor.

He let out a long, unsteady breath that fogged in the cool night air, “I-I’m sorry.” Then he paused and laughed again, “No, rather, thank you. Thank you for saving us. This is… I’d like to sit down and talk with you when this is over,” he forced the words out, embarrassment coloring his cheeks a touch of red before he steeled himself. “In the meantime, we’d like to help. If we can.”

My vision panned around to the group, many of them perking up, more, honestly, then I thought were even paying attention.

I slowly nodded, bringing a hand to my chin. He watched, nervously, as I consider the topic.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer. For now, I’m keeping as many people away from the wall as possible, but we need to keep the auto-turrets running. The fabrication yards are building more. I’ll send a list to you, and who you’ll need to talk to.” I mentally submitted the information, cycling through to him a moment afterwards.

He blinked as the notification appeared in his vision, and then looked back to me. “We’ll get to it,” he said with his hand out to me.

I clasped his hand with my own, “There’s going to be something of a firework show in two minutes on the wall. You might want to see it.”

His eyebrows rose in question at that. We parted then, and I made my way quickly to the eastern wall. Another general message sounded in the camp, this one through loudspeakers placed throughout.

“Reaper Reaver Support coming in hot,” Terry’s grin could practically be heard through his voice, “Time to see what R&D has in store for us.”

Anyone who could tapped into video displays from feeds looming high over the wall. The Carriers, the five remaining, anyways, were busily churning out more of their abominable living weapons. On the horizon, though, I could see three burning lines across the sky, the howling of engines that were impossibly audible even from here. Steadily their paths began to streak lower, and their speed dropped. Two of them dropped out of formation, while the third stayed high in the air. The two came towards the base, the jet engines they bore unlike anything I’d ever seen. Their designs were unusual, too, an angular, almost trident shaped head with the center being a cockpit suitable only for a single pilot flanked by two broad sweeping wings with an array of red pulsing thrusters. The back of the vessel was wider, like a bearded axe head, and swept upwards in an arc. All along the underside, back, and top of that axe shape were additional thrusters.

The wide, parabolic arc from the cockpit to the axe was not empty, though, several broad locking mechanisms carrying what most assuredly was a compartmentalized weapon system. Each of the three Reaver’s bore something different, the two coming towards us bore one that was vaguely transparent. A positively glowing pale golden liquid shimmered within, and it looked like there were three mounted turrets beneath it, swiveling back and forth as they sought targets.

The second bore what was a much more classical approach, several auto-cannons brimming the dome-like attachment, five in all. Each barrel spun, revving up for firing upon the targets below.

High above, it took a considerable amount of magnification for me to see the strange circular disk that the final Reaver bore.

It fired first, though, the spinning of the disk the first thing that I noted. Then, all at once objects began to be scattered from the edges, spinning out and further away. It stopped after two dozen of them, but I couldn’t help but imagine that it carried far more of them. Small red thrusters, similar to what the Reaver itself had, lit up as the spiked, twisted projectiles came to life.

Curious, I pushed my will upwards, tapping into the Reavers themselves.

And immediately felt three wills push back against my own, each one registering me with their own clear shock.

‘What the hell?’ I frowned, ceasing my push and instead interacting with them, the missiles adjusting their trajectories, half of them moving towards the Carriers, the other half peppering the area around and digging deep, secondary explosions from Spindlies that had been buried beneath.

[I presume you’re our boss?] One of the Reaver’s said, [You can call me Reaver Three, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Please buy me dinner first.]

I blinked as another voice, very similar to the one that just spoke and clearly also feminine, “Reaver Three reporting for duty. I apologize for my copilot,” she hissed at it, “She’s just a box of bolts and doesn’t know any better.”

More confused blinking came to me as the rockets hit the five biotics, deep rumbling anger rolling through the ground as the Carriers felt yet another addition to their constant assailments.

The rocket heads burrowed into the armor before exploding, digging out layers of armor more than what we had.

Unfortunately, they had many more.

“Reaver Three, can confirm, these things are tough as shit, or your rockets, and or aim, still sucks,” another voice chimed in.

[Reaver Two, can confirm, you can stuff it.] The first voice spoke again, [Not our fault that these things are tanker than… tanks!]

[Smooth.] A voice that sounded like Reaver Two sounded.

“Keep it locked down. Now.” A third sounded, “Reaper, this is call-sign Reaver One, Emilia Barman. Heard you needed a hand.”

Finally I shook off the confusion, “Much appreciated Reaver One, I’ll ask for details later. For now, I’m sending you all information on the situation. We’re plotting a course for raiding the cove, we suspect the hives to be there.” I sent the packets of data, something that a normal person would probably have to take a glance at and get the general gist of. It was something that I’d grown accustomed too, but I always added additional information just in case.

[Efficient,] Reaver One’s other voice murmured appreciatively, [So you do have a machine brain in there, sir. We’re ready to back you up.]

“Sorry, sir,” Emilia sighed, “New technology.”

“It’s alright. I’ll assume you all can follow with the deviations to the plan as set then. Send me an overview of your specs so I can know what to expect.”

[Roger that.] Reaver One sent information, followed quickly by the other two.

‘These ones are… very strange.’ Wolvy commented as we received the information and began to parse it.

‘They’re not that stra-oh… Oh that is strange.’ I blinked, looking over the information sent with perplexedness.