zero.sum | Chapter 4: Suckerpunch
Jun 25, 2018 20:53:10 GMT -6
Post by fen on Jun 25, 2018 20:53:10 GMT -6
Fire rained down on the white machine, and the moment that the Kirin made a break for it, there was truly nothing hold back Cain. He fired the remaining salvo of linear bazooka rounds, each impacting the white machine with a thunderous boom, sending ripples and waves crashing into the riverside.
It wasn’t enough to hold him down- the sight of the white machine lunging at the Phoros mid-air, a spew of water following it with its arms outstretched, momentarily seared itself into the pilot’s sight. A hungry beast, it seemed to be focused on nothing more than to end the annoyance that had distracted it from its task at hand.
With the bazooka emptied, Cain threw the Phoros forward, until its legs were in the direct line of fire of the enemy machine.
One by one, it rapidly unleashed a barrage of ART rockets, six in total. The blasts of each consumed the white machine in its entirety, the shockwaves reaching the Wolfsbane. The sheer impact of the blows had torn its legs asunder, causing it to momentarily lose its place in the air. It flipped over where the white machine was, the explosion rocking it forward and away.
Amidst the floundering of the Wolfsbane, Cain managed to spin it around to get a clear picture of the target: though still shrouded in smoke, it crashed into the pavement below with a loud crack. It was just enough time for him to do what he wanted to do from the beginning:
Leave.
Though it spiralled uncertainly, the Phoros dove after the retreating Hoplite. The coast was clear: the opposing AAs they had encountered were still in the area, but judging from their last known position and their movements, they had retreated. Perfect.
“Fawn, once we near the docks I’ll begin to lift you for an emergency landing on the Menaulion, try to keep your Hoplite in gear until then.”
“Right.”
What followed that was silence – none of the three parties seemed particularly talkative, especially considering their current situation. They weren’t quite out of the woods yet, after all. The Kirin’s dwindling fuel stores and a complete lack of weaponry forced it to keep running… even though it would take little to no effort for Euzone’s machine to catch up and dispatch it.
… and yet there was no sign of the white machine. It was almost impossible to believe, but they were still alive.
For now, anyway.
---
SHANGHAI, 4:06 AM
The fighting had stopped. The Menaulion had reached a safe distance from the city of Shanghai, and had approached depths where it would be able to disappear.
Problems, however, continued.
Adamaris sat motionless, eyes locked on the information streaming across her PDA. The bridge was still in high alert, given that they were still near potential enemy forces, and not quite deep enough to avoid the more persistent of their foes.
The problem was, at least partially, that no such foes came. Their descent and exit began and promised to end quietly.
Occasionally, an aide would step by and ask a few questions involving what they should be doing, and she would in turn give a simple but dismissive answer. Her mind was too pressed with a few of the obvious, albeit concerning questions. Some of them involved her own; there were concerns she had about a few of the pilots, but given their circumstances she couldn’t be too harsh, either.
She let a sigh loose.
“Jack, could you request the pilots finish their briefings as soon as possible? I understand that they need some time to cool off, but the sooner we know what happened the better.”
“Of course,” he answered, immediately firing off a message to the pilots from his PDA. “I’ll ask them to keep it short, sweet, and to the point. A more detailed report will come tomorrow, first thing in the morning.”
Jonathan paused, an uncharacteristic display of hesitation. “... is something else bothering you?”
The captain pursed her lips, idly tapping at her chin. “We’re not being followed right now, and their assault was essentially a token force they managed to muster beyond what ESU defenses remained. They were essentially trying to sink us by sending forces far beyond enemy lines…”
Her thoughts remained on her conversation with Lana, and what that had entailed.
“...I just want to know how they managed to plan that successfully.”
It wasn’t a success, but it had caught them off guard. That was a loss in Adamaris’s playbook- even if they had managed to foil their opponent from capitalizing on it. Crewmembers had died in the encounter, and they lost valuable machines.
“Frankly speaking, I think we both know how.”
Jack crossed his arms, having slid his PDA back into a pocket on the inside of his dress jacket. “This simply confirms your suspicions. Even a fool could sense the presence of a traitor in our midst. That being said, our little mole will become more guarded now that we’ve begun sniffing them out. It may be wise to have trusted personnel engage with our pilots more… directly.”
She leaned back in her seat, letting out a deep breath. “Perhaps. Let’s see what happens.”
---
To say Shanghai had ‘fallen’ would be an overstatement.
It should have come to no surprise when forces within China pulled the rug out on ESU officials, granting unique access to the Martian invaders that caused them to take the country fast and effectively. A ground war meant nothing when the people you’re supposed to be protecting sell you out. That was very much the case with Shanghai, and with China as a whole.
With its northern territories all but handed over to the Martian forces, it came no surprise that ESU support was rapidly cut off from its borders as the Martian fleet overtook it. Although an official announcement came much later, there was little to be done about it.
Though international forces claimed that China acted in their own interests over the international community, it wasn’t as if other countries had not done the same already- Russia, much of Southern Africa, and some of Central America seemed to agree with the Martian call to arms. Tensions were high.
...Not that it mattered to him, because his war was a different one.
Locked in his room, Leonardo had been keeping tabs on the ‘evidence’ the others had brought back. The first that came to mind was the pilot roster: he still remembered that assault back in Russia, where he was forced to hide under mounds of crates and wooden debris while they were shot up, and how they lost nearly all their ships…!
He wasn’t sure if he found the offender, but he had found something else interesting.
Gabriel Crwydryn.
Gabriel Crwydryn
Gabriel Crwydryn-!!
That name sat in his mind much like a car might sink into a lake.
Which is to say, he did not like it. Why did he not like it? Well, that was because his name was Crwydryn. Leonardo Crwydryn.
Adopted son of the Crwydryns, Leo had been under the impression they failed to have a child due to either complications, or some other issue that arose afterwards. When he had come under their care and guidance, it was under the assumption that the other option for an heir was no longer in the cards.
To him- a boy long since abandoned in the Martian orphanage system, who lived on scraps and clawed his way to the top of an engineering scholarship, their adoption came as an obvious political ploy. Adopt an orphan, raise as an heir? It made them, the operators of Tartarus Industries all the better.
He scoffed, reading over the summary of this ‘Gabriel’, eyeing his lack of significant education- but also that he was from Mars.
Leonardo didn’t care that he was being ‘used’, because in a sense, he was also the one ‘using’ them. What he did care about, was his position crumbling away under him. This person, ‘Gabriel’, only served as a reminder.
He closed out the profile, instead opening up a secure line of communication. The screen remained black for a few moments, before it suddenly lit up.
“Ah, there you are gramps!”
Dark and dusty were perhaps the only way to describe the workshop he was looking at, and soon enough the figure of this ‘gramps’ swerved over, his seat moving along the floor until he appeared on the main screen. Nearly bald, with curly tufts of gray poking out from above his lips, and a head that was partially encased in metal. He wore baggy, greasy work overalls, and leaned into the monitor all too uncomfortably.
“What’s it ye want, boy?”
Gruff and annoyed, the old man seemed to be.
Leonardo held onto his plastic grin, punctuating his pre-response with a hearty chuckle. “Nothing major, gramps! I just wanted to know, have you ever heard of a ‘Gabriel Crwydryn’?”
There was silence at first, the old man leaning back into his seat as he rubbed his chin.
“Aye, don’tcha know? He was the one ye replaced.”
There was a heavy silence.
“...You mean their actual, heir?”
“Depends on how ye want ta look at it; s’far as I see, ye got nothin’ ta worry about.”
More silence.
“He’s… He is part of an ESU taskforce, the one that hit us in Russia.”
“Oh?”
There was some hesitation, but he knew deep down it would be better to tell him directly, rather than beat around the bush. As far as he knew, ‘grandpa’ didn’t have much interest in how the family business was run.
“...Yeah, I’ll send you the details, but he seems to be on one of the ESU’s important ships.”
“The Loggerheads? Hoo hoo, seems like my boy’s been climbing the ranks.”
“Haha! Right!” Oh he felt that laugh, as forced as it was, he couldn’t risk losing composure here. “But uhm, anyways, I don’t think it’ll be much to worry about, though I guess this does mean he won’t be alive for long…”
“Aye, but I suppose we’ll see, eh? Stranger things have happened.”
“Like what?”
“Don’t worry about it, laddie, now if ye’ll excuse me, I have to wrap up some work, ya? We’ll keep in touch.”
Just like that, the screen went dark.
---
“I heard that the Martians finally grabbed China.”
Of the many things Adamaris wished to be doing right now, contacting high command was not one of them, so she took the alternative: contacting Fleet Admiral Forscythe.
“Something like that. I’ve sent a briefing to HQ, but they haven’t given me much to work with.”
“I can only imagine, after all, they’re more worried about Africa right now.”
The two were sitting and conversing over tea- well, not quite together, given that the Fleet Admiral was alongside the moon’s orbit, and she was quite a few miles under the Pacific Ocean. Still, brewing their own pots and discussing matters while in their rooms was… Basically the same thing anyways. Ignoring the oceans length of difference between their personal tastes in decor, the Fleet Admiral had always been a positive figure.
“Why Africa?”
“It’s perhaps the only region where the defectors have major access to important mineral deposits. In conjunction with them taking China, they’ve managed to acquire a decent factory floor to build up an army.”
“We still outnumber them.”
“Can’t outmaneuver them, though.”
Adamaris took a sip from her cup, pausing to reflect on that. It was true: despite fielding an overwhelming amount of troops, the ESU have been unable to effectively counter the movements of the Martian ground forces. Part of that was to blame on the lack of AAs, but perhaps the larger part was squarely on the lack of organization internally.
The ESU’s existence was contingent on its protected nations being willing to contribute. Considering a handful had already planned with the opposing Martian forces, it seemed that their opening movements were to be guaranteed successful.
“How is his work coming along, by the way, the guy we had you pick up from China?”
“Cinco’s work has come along, and he’s kept in touch with me over his progress. HQ seems to be happy about how things are looking.”
“Seems like a good time to hit them where it hurts.”
“...Which is?”
The fleet admiral smiled, taking a sip from his own cup.
“I’ll send you the plans.”
It wasn’t enough to hold him down- the sight of the white machine lunging at the Phoros mid-air, a spew of water following it with its arms outstretched, momentarily seared itself into the pilot’s sight. A hungry beast, it seemed to be focused on nothing more than to end the annoyance that had distracted it from its task at hand.
With the bazooka emptied, Cain threw the Phoros forward, until its legs were in the direct line of fire of the enemy machine.
One by one, it rapidly unleashed a barrage of ART rockets, six in total. The blasts of each consumed the white machine in its entirety, the shockwaves reaching the Wolfsbane. The sheer impact of the blows had torn its legs asunder, causing it to momentarily lose its place in the air. It flipped over where the white machine was, the explosion rocking it forward and away.
Amidst the floundering of the Wolfsbane, Cain managed to spin it around to get a clear picture of the target: though still shrouded in smoke, it crashed into the pavement below with a loud crack. It was just enough time for him to do what he wanted to do from the beginning:
Leave.
Though it spiralled uncertainly, the Phoros dove after the retreating Hoplite. The coast was clear: the opposing AAs they had encountered were still in the area, but judging from their last known position and their movements, they had retreated. Perfect.
“Fawn, once we near the docks I’ll begin to lift you for an emergency landing on the Menaulion, try to keep your Hoplite in gear until then.”
“Right.”
What followed that was silence – none of the three parties seemed particularly talkative, especially considering their current situation. They weren’t quite out of the woods yet, after all. The Kirin’s dwindling fuel stores and a complete lack of weaponry forced it to keep running… even though it would take little to no effort for Euzone’s machine to catch up and dispatch it.
… and yet there was no sign of the white machine. It was almost impossible to believe, but they were still alive.
For now, anyway.
---
SHANGHAI, 4:06 AM
The fighting had stopped. The Menaulion had reached a safe distance from the city of Shanghai, and had approached depths where it would be able to disappear.
Problems, however, continued.
Adamaris sat motionless, eyes locked on the information streaming across her PDA. The bridge was still in high alert, given that they were still near potential enemy forces, and not quite deep enough to avoid the more persistent of their foes.
The problem was, at least partially, that no such foes came. Their descent and exit began and promised to end quietly.
Occasionally, an aide would step by and ask a few questions involving what they should be doing, and she would in turn give a simple but dismissive answer. Her mind was too pressed with a few of the obvious, albeit concerning questions. Some of them involved her own; there were concerns she had about a few of the pilots, but given their circumstances she couldn’t be too harsh, either.
She let a sigh loose.
“Jack, could you request the pilots finish their briefings as soon as possible? I understand that they need some time to cool off, but the sooner we know what happened the better.”
“Of course,” he answered, immediately firing off a message to the pilots from his PDA. “I’ll ask them to keep it short, sweet, and to the point. A more detailed report will come tomorrow, first thing in the morning.”
Jonathan paused, an uncharacteristic display of hesitation. “... is something else bothering you?”
The captain pursed her lips, idly tapping at her chin. “We’re not being followed right now, and their assault was essentially a token force they managed to muster beyond what ESU defenses remained. They were essentially trying to sink us by sending forces far beyond enemy lines…”
Her thoughts remained on her conversation with Lana, and what that had entailed.
“...I just want to know how they managed to plan that successfully.”
It wasn’t a success, but it had caught them off guard. That was a loss in Adamaris’s playbook- even if they had managed to foil their opponent from capitalizing on it. Crewmembers had died in the encounter, and they lost valuable machines.
“Frankly speaking, I think we both know how.”
Jack crossed his arms, having slid his PDA back into a pocket on the inside of his dress jacket. “This simply confirms your suspicions. Even a fool could sense the presence of a traitor in our midst. That being said, our little mole will become more guarded now that we’ve begun sniffing them out. It may be wise to have trusted personnel engage with our pilots more… directly.”
She leaned back in her seat, letting out a deep breath. “Perhaps. Let’s see what happens.”
---
To say Shanghai had ‘fallen’ would be an overstatement.
It should have come to no surprise when forces within China pulled the rug out on ESU officials, granting unique access to the Martian invaders that caused them to take the country fast and effectively. A ground war meant nothing when the people you’re supposed to be protecting sell you out. That was very much the case with Shanghai, and with China as a whole.
With its northern territories all but handed over to the Martian forces, it came no surprise that ESU support was rapidly cut off from its borders as the Martian fleet overtook it. Although an official announcement came much later, there was little to be done about it.
Though international forces claimed that China acted in their own interests over the international community, it wasn’t as if other countries had not done the same already- Russia, much of Southern Africa, and some of Central America seemed to agree with the Martian call to arms. Tensions were high.
...Not that it mattered to him, because his war was a different one.
Locked in his room, Leonardo had been keeping tabs on the ‘evidence’ the others had brought back. The first that came to mind was the pilot roster: he still remembered that assault back in Russia, where he was forced to hide under mounds of crates and wooden debris while they were shot up, and how they lost nearly all their ships…!
He wasn’t sure if he found the offender, but he had found something else interesting.
Gabriel Crwydryn.
Gabriel Crwydryn
Gabriel Crwydryn-!!
That name sat in his mind much like a car might sink into a lake.
Which is to say, he did not like it. Why did he not like it? Well, that was because his name was Crwydryn. Leonardo Crwydryn.
Adopted son of the Crwydryns, Leo had been under the impression they failed to have a child due to either complications, or some other issue that arose afterwards. When he had come under their care and guidance, it was under the assumption that the other option for an heir was no longer in the cards.
To him- a boy long since abandoned in the Martian orphanage system, who lived on scraps and clawed his way to the top of an engineering scholarship, their adoption came as an obvious political ploy. Adopt an orphan, raise as an heir? It made them, the operators of Tartarus Industries all the better.
He scoffed, reading over the summary of this ‘Gabriel’, eyeing his lack of significant education- but also that he was from Mars.
Leonardo didn’t care that he was being ‘used’, because in a sense, he was also the one ‘using’ them. What he did care about, was his position crumbling away under him. This person, ‘Gabriel’, only served as a reminder.
He closed out the profile, instead opening up a secure line of communication. The screen remained black for a few moments, before it suddenly lit up.
“Ah, there you are gramps!”
Dark and dusty were perhaps the only way to describe the workshop he was looking at, and soon enough the figure of this ‘gramps’ swerved over, his seat moving along the floor until he appeared on the main screen. Nearly bald, with curly tufts of gray poking out from above his lips, and a head that was partially encased in metal. He wore baggy, greasy work overalls, and leaned into the monitor all too uncomfortably.
“What’s it ye want, boy?”
Gruff and annoyed, the old man seemed to be.
Leonardo held onto his plastic grin, punctuating his pre-response with a hearty chuckle. “Nothing major, gramps! I just wanted to know, have you ever heard of a ‘Gabriel Crwydryn’?”
There was silence at first, the old man leaning back into his seat as he rubbed his chin.
“Aye, don’tcha know? He was the one ye replaced.”
There was a heavy silence.
“...You mean their actual, heir?”
“Depends on how ye want ta look at it; s’far as I see, ye got nothin’ ta worry about.”
More silence.
“He’s… He is part of an ESU taskforce, the one that hit us in Russia.”
“Oh?”
There was some hesitation, but he knew deep down it would be better to tell him directly, rather than beat around the bush. As far as he knew, ‘grandpa’ didn’t have much interest in how the family business was run.
“...Yeah, I’ll send you the details, but he seems to be on one of the ESU’s important ships.”
“The Loggerheads? Hoo hoo, seems like my boy’s been climbing the ranks.”
“Haha! Right!” Oh he felt that laugh, as forced as it was, he couldn’t risk losing composure here. “But uhm, anyways, I don’t think it’ll be much to worry about, though I guess this does mean he won’t be alive for long…”
“Aye, but I suppose we’ll see, eh? Stranger things have happened.”
“Like what?”
“Don’t worry about it, laddie, now if ye’ll excuse me, I have to wrap up some work, ya? We’ll keep in touch.”
Just like that, the screen went dark.
---
“I heard that the Martians finally grabbed China.”
Of the many things Adamaris wished to be doing right now, contacting high command was not one of them, so she took the alternative: contacting Fleet Admiral Forscythe.
“Something like that. I’ve sent a briefing to HQ, but they haven’t given me much to work with.”
“I can only imagine, after all, they’re more worried about Africa right now.”
The two were sitting and conversing over tea- well, not quite together, given that the Fleet Admiral was alongside the moon’s orbit, and she was quite a few miles under the Pacific Ocean. Still, brewing their own pots and discussing matters while in their rooms was… Basically the same thing anyways. Ignoring the oceans length of difference between their personal tastes in decor, the Fleet Admiral had always been a positive figure.
“Why Africa?”
“It’s perhaps the only region where the defectors have major access to important mineral deposits. In conjunction with them taking China, they’ve managed to acquire a decent factory floor to build up an army.”
“We still outnumber them.”
“Can’t outmaneuver them, though.”
Adamaris took a sip from her cup, pausing to reflect on that. It was true: despite fielding an overwhelming amount of troops, the ESU have been unable to effectively counter the movements of the Martian ground forces. Part of that was to blame on the lack of AAs, but perhaps the larger part was squarely on the lack of organization internally.
The ESU’s existence was contingent on its protected nations being willing to contribute. Considering a handful had already planned with the opposing Martian forces, it seemed that their opening movements were to be guaranteed successful.
“How is his work coming along, by the way, the guy we had you pick up from China?”
“Cinco’s work has come along, and he’s kept in touch with me over his progress. HQ seems to be happy about how things are looking.”
“Seems like a good time to hit them where it hurts.”
“...Which is?”
The fleet admiral smiled, taking a sip from his own cup.
“I’ll send you the plans.”