Chapter Nine:

Beta Quadrant, Sector 187, Pyillos, archer, Sara Nubran Lunar Base

May 2, 7215

Flinching from a painful impact that no longer existed Brandon glanced around. The sights and sounds hit him all at once, as soon as he realized he wasn’t dead. The utter realism, even the pain of these training simulations was insane. Even knowing that his whole life before waking in the Tube was supposed to be a simulation. He just had no believed it on some level. Not until now.

Each and every scenario made him feel like he was shooting in to the air, while balls deep in to a screaming hog. If anything the only issue was the transitions. One second, he was completing a mission or more likely getting killed. The second he was standing around in... Where was he?

He stood in a cleared area inside a FOB’s main bay. He recognized the walls and flooring from previous missions. Now though the bay’s normal ceiling as absent and instead of areas for Infantry or Armor unit four large scaffolding rigs marked out births. In each Birth was a god of war. Although these ones looked little in their respective births.

On his right, two three and half meter-tall balls with legs stood. The balls dark front had an open hatch near the bottom hanging between the legs. Front center of each ball was a clear plate of whatever high-tech equivalent was now used for glass. To the right and left of the cockpit window two nozzles stuck out some quarter meter. Judging by what he had learned recently of modern turrets he suspected a decent 100-degree firing arc on both of those.

Above the cockpit, nearly on top of the ball was a machine gun. The weapons swivel mounting was clearly set for a full 360-degree rotation and if Brandon was to guess a nearly vertical max upward aim.

Both of the spherical machines of war were painted a dull red, with yellow and orange wave like stripes. The distinct paint job complete Brandon’s guess. If he was pulling from his implanted memories correctly these two were Fire Ants. A pair of fast light Anti-Infantry Titans. Their Light Machine Gun was supported by two highly volatile Flamers.

To Brandon’s left was House Nubran’s single proprietary Ultra-Light Titan design. Also standing just over three meters tall these Titans were humanoid in appearance. Two arms, a and legs were mounted to a human like torso and head. The Apaches were painted to look like the ancient human’s they were named after. Including a hate filled snarl on their mechanical heads.

The Apache was a fast light scout class design. Low armor and only armed with a massive Enriched Tungsten hand axe, the design was suited for little more than information gathering. The Axe was capable of tearing through even another Titan’s armor at an outstanding rate. However, since you had to be nearly on top of them to utilize it the weapon would be nearly useless against other Titans.

Eyeing the meter and half tall weapon carefully Brandon was sure it could make short work of any Infantry or slow Armor the Jock could close in on however.

A small crew was prepping all four Titans as Brandon watched. Fusion power plants were being stoked from standby. Their controlled chaos sending waves of heat in to the bay accompanied by the totally unique sound.

Crews were doing final checks on weapon loadouts and armor plating. Last minute repairs that the beasts always seemed to need.

When a figure appeared next to Brandon he turned to look. He had seen the man in the white space before. At the time he was just another face I the crowd, though. He stood some two meters tall, with well-defined muscles like most of them. His dirty blonde hair was cut into a flat top on a squared face. A nasty looking scar went from his scalp over his icily blue eye and down the middle of his mouth to his chin. He wore the House Nubran uniform under a Titan cooling vest. Pistol and blade were attached on leg holsters upon his upper thigh.

Brandon met the man’s cold gaze and nodded a tiny shift of his head.

“Da.” The man replied.

Casually reaching up Brandon touched his chest just to confirm that he too was wearing the bulky cooling vest. Over the past days, weeks? However long it has been he grew accustomed to the feel of clunky armor restricting and limiting his movement. Even so no ground pounder would dare leave behind their life saving loadouts. Brandon had seen firsthand how important the gear was. Not like some stupid white armor from his favorite Space Opera back home…

Shaking his head Brandon brought himself back to the situation from his momentary mental check out. He was geared as a Jock. That meant only one thing. they were going to be piloting these beasts now. On the last two scenarios Brandon had been either supported by or fighting against Titans in his Armor division. Both times he got a heady respect for the machines. A titan could normally easily take on a full squad of armored units of the same weight. Even the fast Hover Armor units just couldn’t match a Titan in mobility and reaction times.

As a third person appeared slightly behind Brandon he smiled. “Right folks load up. Looks like we get to earn our pay today.”

Not waiting to see if they listened Brandon jogged over to the farthest Apache. His brief look around had afforded him the chance to see this Titan seemed almost new, where the other Apache was sporting several recently replace armor plates and even maybe an arm or leg. Then even with the shitty weapons there was no way Brandon was going to stick himself in what amounted to a walking can of Napalm.

Moving behind the titan Brandon saw the narrow opening that allowed entry to the cockpit. With a devious smirk Brandon climbed up in to the beast through an opening placed exactly where a butthole should be on a person.

Climbing in to the tight dark confines was like climbing into the same area too. The air was instantly hot and humid. Odd smells permeated the stale air. If there had been any room to maneuver Brandon was sure he would of ran in to things. As it was there was only two ways to get in the tight location. In or out. Climbing up Brandon broke out into a heavy sweat before he made it the meter or so to the cockpit.

The area was just big enough for a grown man to hold his arms out and touch both walls while standing in the center.

On unfamiliar instinct Brandon reached up and grabbed the Neruo-helmet that would detect his brainwaves. Combining the nearly instant reaction time of the Titan with his own minds was the key to the Titans advanced abilities.

As the open-faced helm slid over his skull, Brandon pulled two cords from its back and plugged them in to his vest.

Instant a chilling flush of coolant began to swirl through the connections into and back out of his vest. In an instant he went from sweating to shivering.

On the front of the cockpits view screen lights began to flash.

The Titan’s Ai now awake spoke into the slowly illuminating cockpit, its heavily accented voice was clearly Scottish. The dep rough voice spoke out, “New jock detected. Neural handshake complete. Security check passed. Welcome Jock what is your call sign?”

Brandon froze. “shit! No one told me I needed a call sign! Isn’t someone supposed to give me that? I did not think it was something I got to pick.”

The Ai’s voice akin to an old Sean Connery spoke up, “Very well granting call sign ‘Highlander’.”

Brandon’s mouth fell open. Was he just given a call sign by a cheeky AI?

With the acceptance of the call sign all handshakes were complete. With the sound of hydraulics the hatch behind and below Brandon shut closing him off from the outside world.

On instinct he began to issue the startup commands. Normally it took nearly ten minutes for a Titan to go from full stand-by to active status. But most of the work had already been done by the Titan’s crew. With a signal burst to the crew chief to unlock his Titan from the scaffolding, Brandon flipped the last set of switches. Sepia colored fluid began to rapidly fill the tiny cockpit.

Brandon’s Helm folded a mask over his face and completed a seal on hi vest’s neckline. Even having the implanted memories of this occurring Brandon had a moment of worry.

The ballistic gel served a number of purposes in the cockpit. First it softened an outside force upon the Jock. Second it acted as a type of stabilizer. The way the Jock would move in the gel was transmitted to a thousand different sensors in the cockpit. Those signals were then used to relay real time commands to the Titans durasteel skeleton and muscle framework. Lastly it provided a three-dimensional display interface with full touch reaction.

As the environment appeared around Brandon he watched the scaffolding pull away from his Jock. It felt almost like it was pulling away directly from his own body. Taking a step forward the war machine responded perfectly.

A voice came over the radio the same instant as a Mission briefing appeared on his HUD.

“The Jocks are ready to Rock!”

“Jocks your mission is straight forward. We got a lead on an enemy Forward Operating Base that has been acting as an Aerospace airfield. They have been conducting Ariel raids on House Nubran assets for over a month. Trillions of credits have been lost in damages and lost lives.”

“As of two hours ago we have pinned their location. Our scout counted a full platoon of downed craft.”

“The mission is simple get in fast: Destroy the downed birds before they can take off. If you do this will be easy. You’re not equipped to fight an airborne target so hit them while they are down.”

Mission Details

Mission Objectives: Objective 1: Destroy All Hostile Aerospace Assets Objective 2: Neutralize or Destroy all Enemy Ground Forces Logistical Details: Operation Type:

Assault

Operation Location:

Beta, Sector 187, Pyillos System, Pyillos III

Operation Terrain:

Temperate Hills

Operation Zone:

250 Clicks

Insertion:

Standard

Tactical Details: Hostel Forces:

VTAP-47 Heavy Assault Helicopter - Platoon

VAL125 Light Helicopter - Platoon

GZA-75 bumblebee Stealth Bomber – Platoon x3

Light Infantry - Company

Unknown Titan’s (Estimated 30 tons)

Assets Aerospace: Ultra-Light: 2.5 Tons MRG-500 Lightening Scout Helicopter Titan:

Ultra-Light: 60 tons

Fire Ant x2

Apache x2

Brandon glanced over at his friendly unit read out.

Highlander Axeman Red Vampire Lightening Scout Helicopter

Marching his Titan down the small ramp from the Mobile Forward Operating Base’s hanger, Brandon looked around. His three squad-mates followed behind.

Outside the mobile FOB was a small established base. Bombed out hangers for armor units and damaged red brick barracks lay in unit groups in front of them. Along the outer edge of the base was a 10-meter-tall duracrete wall encasing the base. Guard towers supporting heavy machine guns were placed every few hundred foot, clearly showing this small base was never designed to be a high engagement zone.