I considered my arm idly as I stared at my power armor, hours passed since everyone else had gone to sleep. Used bandages lay discarded beside me, the tissue having been restored so much that I couldn’t tell that I’d been wounded. Every now and then, it truly sunk in how much I wasn’t fully human anymore, in such a stark sense of the word. And yet, it didn’t matter, did it?

Adira was a friend, that much I could say at the least. ‘Perhaps more,’ I allowed myself to consider, ‘in time. We’ll see how that goes.’

Surprised with myself, I realized I had a warm smile on my face as I considered the events of the day. Amusingly enough, I usually felt more prepared for facing hordes of biotics than I did in dealing with social situations. That, I doubted, would ever really change.

Rising from my seat, I considered the Ogre, the sheltered cots in the back section nestled into walls. The living quarters expanded from the sides of the lumbering vehicle, allowing for more room, similarly to an RV, albeit one that was heavily armored.

I began moving to the front of the Ogre after casting a glance to the door that led into the rooms. I stopped short as I eyed the armor bays, knowing that I should check my own power armor. With nothing better to do, I began that process; when I finished with that, I read through some reports, forcing myself to slow down to human speeds for the first portion. Then tapped into varying electronics feeds, viewing the moon and starlit ocean whimsically.

Sleep, I could feel, would not come tonight, as was common enough these days. An aggrieved sigh left my lips as I finally rested in one of the driving seats of the Ogre, peering at a mostly empty cargo bay in boredom.

In just a few hours, people would be on the move again. I just had to find something to do until then.

I recalled once more the technologies that I’d seen, especially from other organizations besides my own. There were things to learn from them, I knew, and gradually I realized that I was squandering my own potential as a part of the process.

Concentrating, I began to steadily pour over Research and Development’s notes, analyzing what we’d accomplished, what we were working on now, and our future prospects. I compared where we were with what Basilisk presented. Thus far, we were still in the lead, but I had to admit that it wasn’t by as wide a margin as I’d expected.

Carefully I accessed the mainframe of The Wendigo, my strangely life-like digital self writhing and burrowing through code in ways that basic firewalls and anti-spyware protocols couldn’t hope to detect, let alone deflect. Disappointingly, the only information presented here was based upon what the Destroyer itself was carrying.

I blinked at the information, bewildered for a moment as I realized that the six spherical turrets that bulged from the upper deck and pointed down into the water were anything but mundane.

‘They have plasma guns,’ I shook my head, curiosity driving my attention through many cameras, electronic eyes settling on other ships.

Two others of the Leviathan Brigade hosted the guns, but outside of them it appeared that no two fleets used the same template. Only the basic skeleton of the Destroyers seemed to be shared. Only three other fleets, albeit quite large, were docked in the bay, and none were the same, save for a disproportionate number of Destroyers.

I dragged my awareness back to my center, feeling the data streaming to me abruptly cut off as I allowed my tendrils of thought to disconnect. Diving any deeper would feel disingenuous to me, considering that I was diving into what most would consider to be military secrets and the assets of Basilisk therein.

Still, it gave me some ideas of my own. Terry was, admittedly, a fairly driving force in our labs, and his passions reminded me strongly of Patrick. I feel they would have gotten along quite well.

The problem was that Terry was as fallible as anyone else, had his own interests that guided him. As did Dr. Ross, or Yaga, and the many myriad of scientists that worked in the labs. We’d more or less given them free license to do as they pleased so long as it wasn’t in any way a risk to others in the lab. While that lent to a very wide and unique base of technologies, few things received the attention that they truly deserved.

That would need to change in the future, if we were to maintain our lead on organizations like Basilisk.

Dragging the database up to the forefront of my mind, I rested my attention on the bulk of the information. There was a lot here, enough that I felt that parsing through the volumes of data would give an experienced team a headache to sort through.

I, however, had the full advantage of a mechanized brain. And all the motivation of a bored insomniac.

Wolvey stirred in my subconscious, ‘Do We need to assist?’ Wolvey asked with raw, hopeful excitement.

I grinned ‘Rouse the Determinator A.I.’s, we’re going to see what we can make out of this mess.’

Gleefully, I felt Wolvey dredge the connections to the Determinator’s forth. The Dauntless shared storage space with the newly advanced Determinators, my robotic strike force more akin to my own limbs than as separate entities.

Their awareness’ surged forth, active and even somewhat excited, as dull as their burgeoning persona’s were. Wolvey had been hard at work augmenting them, expanding their capabilities, carefully and painstakingly reimagining the systems and truly weaving a masterpiece.

What was once only 32 had grown to a hefty 64 at Wolvey’s careful cultivation and construction. The digital space I found myself in nearly buzzed with the latent energy of the many minds. I sent a pulse outwards from my own form, as indistinct as their own, and all at once the Determinator’s were at attention, silently awaiting command.

Albeit, they still jittered energetically from time to time.

We didn’t need words, connections extending from me to each of them, of which they readily took up the contact. The handshake complete, each set ran test streams of information to me, which I analyzed, sent back, and then notified them of what our objective here was.

Eagerly the minds took off, and I settled in, taking in streams of information. Wolvey helped to sort the data as it came to me, compacting them to digestible chunks that I then swept through.

Even as the information trickled, I began sending data packets back. Each pack consisted of experiments that I wanted parsed for more information, and to be assessed. This was in part a test of the Determinator’s own mental capabilities, and so I sorted them into groups of four.

Minutes later, I received more batches of information, the result slightly disappointing, but not unexpected. They were uncertain as to what might catch my attention, and couldn’t, I suspect, decide what would be good in time. That they lacked imagination was more the fault of myself and Wolvey. Given enough time, and some teaching, they’d be capable of a great deal more than this.

I took a moment to reflect that my own scope of attention tended to be focused. Having a one track mind wasn’t always a bad thing, but it seemed that this was one of those times. With a mental sigh, I also realized that I readily fell back on the easy option too frequently. Like anything else, if I wanted to get results, I had to put in real effort.

Granted, Wolvey had done wonders on the basic stuff, but the finer points would be mine to create. With a direction in mind I gave them more questions, pushing them, and took note of the experiments that I would have more effort directed to later, and which ones would be left to the devices of the experimenter’s when they had free time. No one was infallible, least of all me, so I would make sure that even the less immediately impressive ideas and projects would still be supported.

This effectively occupied my time, and I found I had to stop myself as the sun came up.

We would be finally underway to the Red Zone.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the ships gradually pulled away from port, I found myself greeting the waters with some unease. This was new territory, the Legion far and away from its element out here. I stood on the railing, gazing out at the sparkling waters, several of the other Legion teams moving about above deck, stretching their legs. Some clutched the railing, having a slight bout of sea-sickness. The medic aboard had given them medicine to help, but it would take a bit to kick in.

Daniel was one such individual, skin paling as he moaned, Fran beside him but careful not to touch him.

She wore a mildly amused expression, “Well, I have to say I didn’t imagine that you’d be the one to get sea-sick.”

Alice, also, had been sea-sick. She lay hunched against the lower bars, exhausted from a whole five minutes of having purged her innards. Richard sat next to her, supporting her against him and nursing her with a bottle of water. She looked like she was beginning to rebound now.

Out of the new-bloods, I found only Eric was remotely affected, and while he appeared a little greener around the gills, the man was holding up well enough. Domino had insisted that they all take the medicine far before they’d even embarked, and his advice had held up solidly for those that had.

“Quite the view,” I watched the sea sparkling like fire as the sun climbed higher, “I’ve never been out at sea before.”

“I never get tired of it,” I heard Adira say behind me, surprising me. Her team was with her, this time, and quickly made small talk with others. “How's the arm holding up?”

I pulled up the sleeve, unmarred and held it out to her, “Good as new, thankfully.”

She took it as an invitation to inspect my arm, stepping in closely and marveling at the lack of any blemish, “Damn. That’s handy.”

Around us a lul in the conversations occurred as our respective teams eyed us mischievously.

She took a slight step away, shooting a dirty look at her people, while I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Daniel didn’t miss the opportunity to grin wider, though his expression was hampered by a discomfort that I no longer pitied him for.

“It does have its perks,” I leaned against the railing next to her, “I’m not sure I float, though.”

She let out a short chuckle, “Maybe not the best thing to realize out here.”

I shrugged, “I’d say to get me a lifejacket, but I’m pretty sure I’d drag it down anyways.”

“He does look rather solid, don’t he? Might be like a cinder block, out here.” The man I recognized as Lou spoke, the data specialist and operator of Adira’s crew said as he heard me.

Nana Pain, the older woman of her crew, gave me a conciliatory look, “Lou here talks before he thinks. I’m sure you’d be fine.”

Richard spoke up then, “Nah, I’m pretty sure he’d sink like a stone. Matthew weighs a lot.”

There was a brief silence that Domino broke, “Wait, how much do you weigh?”

I gave a small smirk, “I haven’t checked lately.”

Lou, Domino, Eric, and Harold exchanged looks, “Think we could lift him?”

Rachel Scotch, the Wolfmother of the greenhorns, set a withering glare on her pseudo-wards.

“Nevermind, silly idea,” Harold waved the thought off.

“Like, five hundred pounds,” Daniel called out, “give or take a hundred or two.”

Fran nodded, “Thereabouts.”

“You don’t seem that heavy,” Adira commented, “and you don’t sound that heavy when you walk.”

“Practice,” I grimaced, “I practiced moving around as quietly as I could for a long while. I don’t need much sleep, but others do, after all.”

Conversations carried on for an hour, but eventually we dragged ourselves downstairs for meals and to prepare everything else that we could think of.

Then, once the time came, our team settled in for the first shift, deciding that we would have our rigs ready to drop out of the sides of the ship in the event that a Leviathan showed. Out here, in Zone One, most of the Leviathan type biotics tended to be massive jelly-fish like ones, or huge fish. Lethal to smaller vessels, but less effective against Destroyers, these biotics tended to be more of a chore to clear than true threats.

We’d long passed the bay, and few if any fishing vessels were out this far. Given the huge explosion in marine life, Basilisk had no issues with food for its citizens. A good thing, considering the land variants seemed to be ravenous, at least as far as our territory was concerned.

Why that was, I couldn’t say for certain. We already knew they didn’t need food, necessarily, so it came down to what they actually needed. We still didn’t fully know what that could be, but we had our suspicions.

Turning my attention back over to my team, chattering idly in our mechs while being girdled in heavy-duty restraining docks, or cradles. Realistically, the ship’s armaments would be able to handle any low-gen biotic that appeared without any issue, but it would be good to get the Legion some practice. Hence our current situation, nestled in snugly on tracks leading towards bay doors, not dissimilar to bomber’s bay doors.

And sure enough, just as we’d been told, the first Leviathan appeared only an hour into deeper waters.

The siren preceded the voice, “Gen 1 Bucktooth sighted, making a bee-line to the fleet. All hands to their stations. Repeat, Gen 1 Bucktooth sighted,” the practiced voice rose out across the ship. The crew worked with steady tempo, settling into place. The racks just behind our own filled out, just in case we needed a hand.

“Alright, Matthew,” I heard Adira speak into my comms, “we’re going to drop you all in. I doubt you’ll find this one much trouble, but remember that they are somewhat dangerous if they can swallow you down…” she paused, “Well, I mean, the mech’s we all use now might not be in any real danger until it goes back down to the depths, but better not to get into bad habits.”

I snorted, “Yeah, getting swallowed whole is probably a bad habit to have.”

She chuckled, before becoming serious, “Good luck, guys. And good hunting.”

The side conversations died as the Legion’s training kicked in, our raison-d'etre before us. I was the second one to drop, the many mech-cradles rotating into position as the side doors opened. The Dauntless was in front of me, the cradle rotating to bring its front to face me even as my cradle began to rotate. From my view feeds, I watched as Daniel whooped, the cradle lurching backwards and dropping him out of the back of the ship, a loud whoosh of water as he smashed through the surface. I watched as the walls of the ship passed me, the tongue extending farther out to ensure we wouldn’t hit the side of the ship on the way down.

Then I free-fell, and grinned as my power armor dulled the impact to nothing more than a light slap.

Motors spun active, and at once I was away, putting some distance from me and the ship before settling in near The Dauntless. The huge machine, vibrant purple, was harder to see in the murk, and more so if it weren’t for the pulsing luminescence all across the mechs frame. The massive module that we’d installed purred as it churned water, jetting hard with several others, giving even the massive mech impressive mobility in the water.

My own modules were a more advanced variety than was on the general market; the Reaper Class pleasantly surprising me once more. Even so, none of our mechs or armors were outfitted in anything less than the best we could get. The Legion paid for it, after all, and I’d ensured no one skimped on their own quality.

Though, it did hurt our M.E. stores somewhat, it wasn’t anything we couldn’t recover from. Already, we had farms devoted to securing streams of revenue. Even better, we already had a Leviathan to recoup some more losses from.

The Wendigo was the only one that birthed a Legion contingent, something that I’d decided on. We shouldn’t get into the habit of overwhelming numbers, more so anyways than what we were already doing.

“Legion, form up on me,” I called out, connecting our many voices together. I split us into three teams, eight each.

“Fran, you take command of Team Two.” I stated, “Domino, you’re with me, you take Command of Team One.”

Fran accepted without a second thought. Domino, however, seemed surprised that he would be commanding the team I was in. I nodded to him, my mech’s head mirroring the motion. This would be good practice for him, and let him know that I had faith in his abilities.

As for team three, “Peter, you copy?”

A moment later, I watched the Lord-Knight churn water, broad sweeping blades in each hand, shoulder mounted weaponry gleaming in the dull light, “I do, Reaper.”

“You’re leading Team Three,” I stated, knowing that the man was reliable and was surprisingly suited to the dual tactics of his half-team. The Lord-Knight of the Wolf had some of his pack with him, but also tried and true Legionnaires at his back. He utilized their specialities ruthlessly, to the extent that it had begun to seep through into other teams. Heavy frontliners and slightly more fragile, high firepower backliners made for plenty of variability in tactics.

“Copy that,” he nodded, and then spoke into the dedicated channel for his team. They formed up rapidly around him, as did Fran’s team. Domino assorted us quickly, and headed our charge.

“Alright, Team, move up. We’re on intercept.” Domino called out, “Team One will act as decoy.”

“We’ll hit the flanks,” Fran answered, receiving an affirmative from Peter as well.

In spite of not having practiced together, Domino was more than capable of keeping us on pace, and before long we bore witness to our first ‘Bucktooth’ Leviathan.

“That’s a proper name right there,” Harold winced at the sight of the massive fish.

It was the size of a blue whale, small for its type judging by the files I had on them. The fish, however, bore broad incisors that protruded from mottled silvery scaly lips. Hence the name, I imagined, and due in no small part to how ugly the fish was in general. Whereas some biotics seemed to have a sort of intent to them, this Leviathan seemed to be a mishmash of qualities.

Broad scales of uneven size and shape formed its skin, while its fins seemed to have tried and failed to be weaponized, blade-like ridges on their too short edges. The broad tail was less like a fish, and closer to that of a shark, and was the smoothest part of the blocky, strange creature.

Domino moved us out in front of it, and we started by using shaped rounds that could cut through water easier. Thanks to the pseudo-railgun technology that had become commonplace in our weaponry, the slugs still maintained fairly good range even underwater. Few of the shots went wide, and we almost hesitated at the sight of silver blood and a thrashing fish the size of a whale a hundred meters away.

“Well, looks like projectile weapons are still on the table,” Domino muttered, the biotic redoubling its effort to get to us. Large chunks of scale on the Bucktooth’s face were shattered, but as far as I could tell the injuries weren’t deep enough to cause problems.

And, as intended, the fish was wholly focused on us, even as Team Two and Three moved to its flanks.

Domino, to his credit, shrugged and fluidly commanded, “Open fire!”

Our team unloaded on the fish, now only fifty meters away, it’s looming form quickly being punished by the three teams.

Team One’s opening salvo tore far deeper into the fish, but even without that, Team Two would have doomed it on its own. The Dauntless had no shortage of armament to deploy, and even only using our rifles and rapid fire weapons, Daniel’s mech doubled Team Two’s offensive abilities. Team Three unloaded on the other side, maintaining only the use of our most plentiful weapons to test the first Leviathan.

The results were mixed.

The Bucktooth surged forward another ten meters before stilling, momentum carrying it forward as we dispersed. It was clearly dead, the crater in its skull spoke to that.

What I found perplexing was how weak the biotic was.

“Good job, you guys got your feet wet,” Adira stated, not seeming surprised at all and more than capable of detecting us from the Destroyer.

Domino shook his head, still in business-mode, “Alright, team, form up and get back to the ship. We’re done here.”

I could tell I wasn’t the only one disappointed in the fight itself. I’d hoped that, maybe, it was more durable than that. Even the Carrier’s had better armor than the Bucktooth did.

When we were being reeled in, I finally asked Adira, “Are those normally so… underwhelming?”

She laughed, seemingly aware of the feeling, “Yeah, Bucktooth aren’t a problem for anyone but fishers, and even then if they’re solo the trollies can deal with it. The problem is when they’re in shoals. They can come in hundreds, sometimes a few thousand.”

I blinked at that, looking back out at the ocean and the unseen, whale-sized fish with confusion, “Why is that one solo, then?”

“It happens, the weakest of them get driven out, or eaten,” her voice almost seemed to shrug, “so usually we only deal with the trash mobs. But don’t worry, another hour or two and you’ll get to practice with more of them!”

“Greeeaat,” Richard said sarcastically, “I can’t wait.”