In the past week, Tasha's made use of Remiel's meditation-state enhanced learning (aka 'the Zone'), but still feels out of place at the Citadel. The coursework just doesn't energize her as she had hoped, although Choir has helped her a bit. Remiel claimed it was because group activity can release oxytocin, the brain chemical responsible for empathy.
To try and cheer herself up, and have someone to talk to about the future and the possibility of investigating the Titanians further, Tasha has come to the Titan hangar to link up with Melchior. As she settles into the pilot seat, the neural-connection armature makes contact with the studs on her skull, and the cockpit comes alive with displays.
"Hello again, my friend," Tasha greets her AI counterpart as she settles in. "I'm sorry I've been gone so long. I was mad at you, but I realized that in actuality, I was mad at myself." She pats the side of her command seat in a gesture of fondness, smiling a bit sadly. "But it's over now, and there are other things to focus on -- unless you have questions for me?"
"Please explain why you were mad with me," Melchior inquires.
"It was a joke you made: You said you wouldn't marry me, because I can't cook and, um, I snore. I thought it was funny at first, but I soon felt a growing despair over the realization that my suitability as a mate and partner of anyone had become increasingly questionable. I had cheated on Gabriel, I let a woman I am still uncertain is a spy potentially use me for a bit of comfort, and I betrayed Hakeber's and Gabriel's pride by doing so. I was tempted by the power that Balthasar represented, and so also, in a sense, cheated on you. Furthermore, my actions brought Balthasar to Abaddon, threatening the entire world when I came here claming to want to help the world -- a betrayal of a different sort. It was too much to bare, but I didn't want to admit it to myself, nor, well, did I understand why I was so angry -- so I became angry at you instead."
"I understand now that aside from being an attempt at humor, what you said is likely also a safety mechanisim to prevent us from becoming too interdepend, and thus risking my loss of identity and connection to the outside world," the young woman concludes.
"I do have failsafes to prevent a complete merger of psyches," Melchior admits. "Have things changed since you brought me here?"
"I made up with Gabriel, but as for my learning progression you could say that it is failing steadily," Tasha admits, muzle twisting as she thinks about her studies. "I'm not used to this; It wasn't what I was expecting at all. The people here seem to know what to do and how to do it, as they grew up learning the culture of learning common to Abaddon. But more so, they are largely exceptional people attempting something that is difficult even for them. I never recieved apublic education, nor am I a scholar or overachiever as many of them are. I fear that I have tried to take on something that I am neither ready for, nor possibly capable, of completing. It's depressing, to be honest, but that's a lesson too, isn't it?" She gazes over the makeshift hangar as she haed shakes. "If things don't improve I will probably need to withdraw. Luckily, we have come up with alternatives."
"What are the alternatives?" Melchior asks. In the displays, there's suddenly a lot of activity. It looks like the Titan crews and pilots are all showing up in a hurry. Some sort of drill?
Tasha frowns; she hadn't been informed of a drill. As she leans forward to study the sudden commotion -- quite unnecessary given it's all projected directly in to her mind -- she notes, "/Doctor Remiel -- that is, the living, no PC original who is not an independent -- spoke with me at length, and in the course of reviewing my medical status we talked about the Markers and possible leads I might follow, and he suggested investigating the Titanians. Evidence strongly suggests the Titanians have an Origin Marker and are connected to the First Ones. Their technological apptitude is glaringly out of place, and it has long been though that they were engineered for a special purpose. Finding out their connnection, purpose, and culture and biological ties to the First Ones and to Vartans -- another clue we recently discovered -- could solve many questions, and it is a worthy endeavor in its own right. The problem is, Titanians is difficult to approach, and, well, not exactly socially acceptable. We'd also nee
d to find more groups of them and review their candidacy for study./"
"Contact with Titanians is discouraged," Melchior notes. The Titans outside are definitely preparing to move out. Finally, Melchior notes, "There is a loud klaxon sounding in the hangar." Even Captain Frane has appeared, clearly yelling orders.
"That's ... not good," tasha says aloud as she watches the hangar fill up, her frown turning from concern to a worried grimace. "I think there may be a serious problem, ah, right Titanians? I already know that there is a connection between Titanians and Vartans. I know we can sue the same technology and that the Khattans have tried very hard to conceal this. Um ... What are they doing? This can't be a drill."
Deciding that the emergency is more important and her research can take a back seat for the moment, Tasha wills her Titan to speak. The great voice of the gryphon-giant asks, "Captain Frane, what's happening?"
The cacophony of the hangar fills the cockpit, as the big Vartan turns to the Magi and says, "Ah, you're in there Red? We're deploying to meet up with the Expedition City defense forces and a few other groups. Carrier is inbound. A daikaiju has left the Kaiju Sea, setting off seismic alarms."
"Consider us at your disposal then," the Melchior notes even as Tasha leans back in to her seat. "No rest for the wicked. That's what Layth would say at a time like this. Well, nothing to do about it. Ready for a return to the battlefield?"
"Batteries are at full charge," Melchior reports. "Will we be taking the shaard as well?"
"You don't have the hardpoints for the cranes, so you'll have to fly up to the carrier on your own," Frane says.
"We should, the last daikaiju was immune to conventional weaponry and we may need the cutting power. I am concerned with the damage to the blade, however -- do you feel its integrity is still sufficient for constant use?" The great machine begins to move as Tasha silently guides it from her pilot seat, noting through the external speaker, "That's fine, I'm tired of all this walking anyway."
"Repairs have restored it to 95% of optimum performance," Melchior notes, as the Titan opens the weapon locker and extracts the giant double-bladed weapon.
"It'll have to do, but I'm worried about long-term reliability of our equipment. We may need to consider other options that are more easily replaced," Tasha suggests as the machine turns and begins its departure from the hangar and, ultimately, the Winged Citadel.
The other Titans are on the landing field, standing in two long rows facing away from each other. Various other vehicles are moving about as well, including several self-propelled cannons and flatbed trucks loaded with barrels of fuel or munitions.
"I haven't seen this much military technology move in a while. Melchior, connect me to Gabriel please. He should know what's happening and that I'm heading out." Meanwhile, Tasha directs her Titan a distance out of the way of the other vehicles, standing off in the wings so that she can both observe the process as a whole and be out of its way.
The connection goes through quickly. "Tasha? Just got word the Knights are mobilizing for something!" he says right away.
"That's right, a daikaiju has set off seismic detectors and appears to be inbound. I've been mobilized along with other Winged Citadel defenders and will be boarding a carrier soon, which will probably be on an intercept course," Tasha reports as she watches the impressive array of weaponry marshal for battle. It gives her a certain thrill, even as she can feel the growing anxiety that always comes to her before a major battle -- an anxiety that is even higher consindering how her last battle went.
"Be careful," Gabriel urges. "They should know what they're doing. Also be sure to record everything!"
"I'll make sure you get a complete record. See you later, hopefully," Tasha promises, her face smiling over the communications link.
"There is an incoming call from Harmonia," Melchior reports.
"Looks like Harmonia has noticed the commotion," Tasha tells Gabriel even as she opens a seperate communications interface. "Hi, Harmonia. There's a large creature inbound, have you spotted it from up there?"
"There is a large mobilization of military force on the western edge of Expedition City, moving towards the badlands," Harmonia replies. "I do not have a direct visual on any incoming creatures, but I do read a large storm-like electrical disturbance further west, beyond the Tharsus Canal."
"A storm like electrical disturbance? Isn't that really rare on Abaddon?" Tasha asks as she brings up a map of known Abaddon. "Gabe, Harmonia is reporting an even larger military mobilization than what I'm seeing up here. Looks like there's some sort of storm to the west as well. Think it's just a coincidence?"
"No idea," Gabriel admits. "Maybe that's their monster?"
"A storm producing monster? That sounds like magic -- or something we've never heard of. I'll keep you posted," Tasha notes as she studies the mark, adding basic markers for military positions and requesting a data exchange with Harmonia for strategic map update.
Things are still pretty spread out. The disturbance is moving at a good clip though, according to Harmonia. "It is throwing off a lot of radio interference," she reports. "Estimating five hours before it reaches the canal."
"That's some storm, if it is a storm. Something like that would be rare even on Sinai, and I've weathered a lot of storms," the pilot reasons as she turns her Titan towards the west, scanning the skyline. "It seems like the military will need some time, so, rough estimation -- can you give me the ETA on the carrier that's inbound?"
Outside, a shadow crosses over the runway. Tasha has seen the Intimidator before, but always from a distance. It must also be a Silent-One's Titan Carrier, because the vessel coming down to about a hundred feet of altitude could be its twin. The bays on the side are open, and steel cables begin to descend towards the waiting lines of Titans.
"12 seconds," Harmonia replies.
"Thanks," Tasha says, chuckling. "Looks like that's my cue, I'll be boarding now -- keep me informed." Tasha turns the Titan again, moving in a slow walk towards the distant ships, in anticipation of taking flight to meet them. "Look at those ships, Mel! We have one back on Sinai, but it must have been stripped to the bone to still function. I always thought it was a very odd design when compared to other vessels, but now it all makes sense. I never got to see it in person -- it's the flagship of the Rephidim fleet and a nobody like me wasn't getting closer than peaking distance. I never though I'd ever step foot one it; looks like now's my chance for the alternative."
"Red!" the voice of Captain Frane calls, cutting through the other noise of the deployment. Melchior automatically zooms in on the Vartan who is gesturing towards a platform descending from the belly of the carrier. "Ride up with the cargo! It's the only place you'll fit." Crews are hurrying to connect the Titans to the cables now.
"Stuffed back down with cargo -- it's my old life all over again," the red woman observes amusedly to her AI as she turns them to head towards the lift.
The lift is crowded, and a Silent-One in an unfamiliar uniform waves Tasha towards the center, while two other identically looking cheetahs direct the munitions and artillery to specific areas.
Moving as bidden, Tasha parks herself in the center of the hangar bay. Meanwhile, she studies the operation map, watching the various assets assemble and the storm move ever closer. "Hmm, that storm worries me. We're looking at a possible EM threat in addition to a physical one."
"I have no information on the megafauna native to this world," Melchior laments.
Once everything is where the supercargoes want it to be to keep the ship balanced, the Titans are hoisted up into their bays. There's a rumble, and a sense of motion as the giant turbines spin up to move the carrier.
"It's okay, Mel. We'll figure it out together," Tasha promises. "Looks like there's not much to do but sit and enjoy the flight. I think I may step out to see if we're getting any additional briefing during the flight over, can you establish a link with my datapad so that you can listen in and we can information with the others?"
"I can keep relay functions operative, but without the neural connection I will be effectively asleep," Melchior notes. "I will download the appropriate information when I reactivate."
"Thanks, have a good nap. See you soon. Disconnect pilot and remain on standby." Soon, Tasha's on the deck of the hangar and looking around, datapad tucked under her left arm and right hand running through her hair as she takes it all in. Once she's done having herlong awaited look, she turns to a nearby technician and signs, "Which way to the Titan pilot briefing room?"
The cheetah points towards a ladder heading to an upper deck, and then signs, "I have not seen this sort of Titan before."
Tasha glances up and nods, then returns her attention to the technician. "It's a unique model, though it has a general class: TL-2 Magi Class, it's called the "Melchior.""
"I like the colors," the technician notes, and then has to run off to another section to help secure the mobile cannons.
Me too, Tasha thinks as she turns to regard the ladder, beginning her climb.
There are, unsurprisingly, a lot of Silent-Ones aboard. Their uniforms feature the Star, so most likely this is not a ship controlled by the Knights Templar themselves, but an actual part of the Silent-Ones fleet. As such, there are a lot of very stern looking officers and security people making sure the 'passengers' get to where they need to be - and don't get to look at anything else. Almost ten minutes later, Tasha is sitting in a familiar looking classroom, only the chairs are individual and much more comfortable. There are a lot more than just the pilots here, however, making the room seem crowded.
Realizing this is the first time she's sat down with the combined forces of Abaddon, Tasha makes sure to sit up straight and readies both her best manners and her professional attitude. While she may give Frane a hard time, here she draws the line, not wanting to embarass the budding JEF. And while she sits with her hands in her lap and her datapad out and ready, she risks a glance around, trying to identify the other members for future reference.
The pilots, including Snarf, are easily picked out, along with the crew chiefs. There a many Nagas as well - including the familiar brown form Fester, Tasha's choir-mate and an artillery instructor. Tasha knows to recognize the different insignias as well, so realizes at least a third of the people here are part of the Engineers Corps, and not actual combat personnel.
"Interesting, they're mostly engineers. They must have some sort of plan in mind; Perhaps they're uncertain how to deal with the electrical storm?" Tasha muses as she returns her gaze to the front, settling in and waiting for the briefing to begin.
Two Silent-Ones enter from the side door, lugging a large short-wave radio set which they place on the table. Then Frane enters, nods to the cheetahs, and powers up the radio. After fiddling with the knobs, the room is filled with electronic hisses, snaps and screams. It seems random at first, but then there's an undercurrent.. like a heartbeat. "This is the voice of our enemy," the Vartan announces.
After listening for several seconds, Tasha reaches for her datapad and begins forwarding the noise to both Melchior and Harmonia. Even as she sees about directing the information, she frowns, ears canting back under the increasingly disturbing sounds. She doesn't know what it is, but she's certain she doesn't like it.
The lights dim, and a projector at the back throws an image onto the wall behind the table. It looks like a common horned six-legged desert lizard from Sinai. Then it focuses further, and one can see the tank crushed under a forefoot. "This is Tesla," Frane says. "His first attack was over 2000 years ago. The last one was 37 years ago. Not many of you had been born yet. He has a thing for Expedition City, and we're assuming that is his target once more."
Expedition City, Tasha repeats as she bites her lip. Hake and Katie. Despite is concern, the knowledge that the beast has failed two other times is a reassurance -- at least until Tasha has the pressence of mind to wonder if it was deflected. "Sir, this Tesla, what were the results of its prior attacks?"
The slide changes, showing a silhouette of the creature from above, along with several concentric outlines. From the scale, each outline is spaced about 200 feet apart, with a separate cone shape at the front of the creature. "He was repelled," Frane notes. "Since Expedition City still exists." He points to the first, innermost outline. "These are the Galvanic Discharge zones. Anything venturing - or caught - within this first line will have all metallic moving parts fused together. Standard artillery will not penetrate this zone without being struck by lightning and detonated prematurely. For that reason, direct attack with explosive shells will not be used. The Fifth Imperial Firefly Squadron will be joining us to drop napalm and other incendiaries from above. Engineers, your job once we get to the drop zone is to clear a usable runway and set up the fuel depot."
A discharge that destroys all that comes within two-hundred feet ... Until now, Tasha had considered the life forms on Abaddon extremely dangerous, but not at the same level of adavanced technology like the Melchior. With the description of the Tesla beast infront of her, she rethinks that assessment. I wonder if the creature has control of of the lightning; focusing that energy would require additional systems; I guess I'll see.
Frane indicates the second line, saying, "This is as close as Lawbringers can get, which is still a lot closer than any other armor. A lot of work has gone into shielding them, and the optical control systems are immune to electromagnetic interference. Keep in mind you will still need to trail your heat-sink and grounding lines. This is why our defensive line will be at the canal, where we can use the river to our advantage. You'll be equipped with rocket propelled javelins."
Tasha considers asking about her part, but decides against it -- she suspects her part in the battle is optional, and likely not anticipated or expected. That's fine, she decides, I can do more than fight on the front line. Maybe we can come up with alternative tactics -- I have Gabe, Mel, and Harmonia, we can come up with something.
"In the past, setting the canal on fire has turned Tesla back," Frane explains. "He doesn't like extreme heat, even though his armor is fairly immune to it. His lungs, however, are not. All incendiary strikes will be targeted at his head."
The pointer taps on the conic zone in front of his head. "No Titans or armor are to get directly in front of him, however," the Vartan says, and then whacks the pointer harder against the image. "No exceptions! Tesla eats Titans, and they are too valuable to waste like that."
The pointer then sweeps towards the audience.. and stops pointing at Tasha. "Red, what sort of shielding does your Gryphon have?" Frane asks.
I wonder ... He's generating a electrical discharge, but can he control it? If we could redirect his energies, it might be possible to exhaust them. But what can redirect lightning? Looking down, Tasha picks up her datapad and begins shifting through the available JEF database, frowning as the answer feels close but she just can't grasp it. Her ears flick when the pointer strikes the display, causing her to frown further. I know I heard about this ... Something to do with non-material electrical conduction ... Not optical ... Lasers ... Lasers? She pauses, thinking. Oh, lasers! A plasma channel! She grins now, redirecting her communications. "Harmonia, are you capable of generating a long range, high conductivity laser channel?"
So engrossed in her idea, and not expecting to be spoken to, it takes Tasha a few seconds before she registers she was questioned. "Huh?" She asks, looking up. "Oh, conductivity? EM shielding is good -- energy weapons were common on Titans designed for international duels."
A message displays on Tasha's pad: Maser at full strength can create a channel, but beam spread is significant.
"You're on paint duty then," Frane notes. "You are going to fly over and drop plastic barrels of fuel on Tesla's head, to maximize the impact of the incendiaries."
It's fairly obvious now that Tasha is doing something with her datapad, because she keeps glancing between it now, as she types and tries to focus on Frane at the same time. "How close would be needed to discharge the energy reliably in to the atmosphere, or serve to help you recharge?" She then nods distractedly. "Paint duty. Drop fuel. Help set head on fire. Got it."
"We can't saturate the ground since we don't know exactly where the daikaiju will try to cross the canal," Frane notes. "Melchior is the fastest flier we have available, and it will make the Firefly attack much more effective. Artillery! You will be using solid slugs until the time comes to light up the lizard - recalculate your propellant loads accordingly. If Tesla makes it across that canal, then we'd all better be dead and extra-crispy before he does!"
There's a murmur of assent at that sentiment: no retreat.
Tasha nods as well; she's no stranger to the concept of no retreat, having only recently barely survived taking such a stance in the battle against Abaddon. However, she has a bit more to say this time. "Sir, I may be able to work out an alternative -- I'm in dialogue with my compatriots and we are discussing various tactics."
"You've got an hour before we land," Frane notes. "Have your suggestions for me by then."
The red woman nods. "Yes, sir."
"Dismissed," Frane declares, as the room lights come back up and the projector shuts off. "Do whatever precombat rituals you prefer, but be ready when we drop. We'll only have a few hours before Tesla arrives."
Already deep in her work, Tasha focuses entirely on her datapad now. "Still working out the projections?" She asks Harmonia.
"I cannot be in range for a definitive result," Harmonia notes. "I will be close enough to observe, however. I cannot deviate from my current preset navigation without a pilot or honorary-pilot aboard. Our communications should not be disrupted by the interference from the creature."
As the classroom empties, one figure stays behind. Fester is slithering over towards Tasha.. but also keeping his distance.
"Unfortunate, but it can't be helped. The Bellerophon isn't ready either. We'll think of something," Tasha sends, shifting her head on to her hand as she settles in to think. Or would have, if she hadn't found two pairs of serpent eyes watching her.
"Fester? Is there something wrong, shouldn't you be getting ready?" She asks, not unkindly.
"I wasSs hoping to help you," the Naga notes. "I wasSs wondering about the information not included in your JEF recruitment packet. While I did not sSeek to join your organization, I did try to learn aSss much asSs I could.."
"Oh, well, um, sure, have a ... Well, a coil." The young woman pats the area next to her, turning her chair so she can face the man. "I was trying to see if a high-powered maser could be brough to bear, to create a plasma channel and thus force-redirect Tesla's electrical discharge elsewhere, in the hopes his power could be exhausted and thus making him much more vulnerable. However, the ... satelite won't be in position in time. Melchior lacks such a high powered array, nor does he have a laser system that would be suitable, so I'm backing to trying to work it out some other way."
"Your Expedition sShip, Bellerophon.. the details were sScant," Fester notes. "Nor wasSs its location diSclosed. But I did sSome digging: that Class was armed with a pair of Linear CannonSs. IsSs this the case?"
Tasha suddenly gives the man a dubious look, head tilting. "Weapons technology isn't something we share, Fester. Forgive me for saying so, but I'm a little concerned that you're showing such interest in it." She tilts her head the otehr way, avian-like. "You're not a spy, are you?"
"I am an artillery man," Fester notes. "Of courSe I am intereSted in the weaponSs capability of an Expedition craft. I am familiar with the Linear Cannon weapon, even before your arrival. I wrote a thesis on it. AsSs for secrecy.. the beauty of artillery is that with enough power, you can hit targetsSs over the horizon. I don't need to know where your Bellerophon is, only if the cannon functionsSs."
"Ah, I see. My apologies," Tasha offers, wondering if she's being too paranoid and if she could use more training in dealing with spying. "Anyway, yes, what you're saying may be possible. I'll ask."
Taking up her datapad, Tasha connects to both Harmonia and Gabriel and proposes, "You two, one of the artillery experts has studied our tech, and thinks that maybe we can align a shot across the horizon against the daikaiju. The Daikaiju -- Tesla -- generates severe electromagnetic disturbances in its immediate vicinty, up to two hundred feet, making it difficult to attack with conventional weapons. The linear cannon would be sufficently quick and powerful to limit that defense, and likely wound it. The question is, can we even do that? Harmonia, you can coordinate with my ground-spotting to help direct the attack, right?"
"I can provide targeting information, with Melchior as spotter," Harmonia agrees. Gabriel is a bit less optimistic, however. "That isn't a ground-to-ground weapon. I don't know if it can even be fired in an atmosphere.. you'll need to bring Fred in on this."
"We're working it out. One moment." Tasha notes before she returns to frenzied typing. After connecting to the Bellerophon -- and momentarily expecting Mariel, much to her sadness -- Tasha reachs Fred. "Fred! Your moment of glory has arrived: We have a situation out here and may need the linear cannon for an air-to-ground in-atmosphere shot acrosss the horizon, with Harmonia coordinating and the Melchior spotting. What do you think?"
"Tasha? Are you drunk?" Fred replies. "Where'd you even get an idea to try something like that? I mean, I've run tests on one of the cannons, but I have no idea if it can be fired while grounded. That thing needs three active stators running just to keep the wing from being torn off. Is this something you need right away?"
"I have the reviSed formulas for ground firing," Fester tells Tasha. "They will compensSate for the lack of vacuum around the cannon."
Tasha scratches her head, shooting the serpent a glance and ahrugging before looking back. "No, I'm not drunk. I'm on a Silent-One carrier ship inbound on a daikaiju -- a giant monster -- approaching Expedition City. We only have a few hours -- " she pauses again to listen, then nods and resumes typing, "Actually, why don't you two talk? I'm switching to vocal input."
"Here," The red woman says, turning the datapad towards the serpent. "You're talking to one of our engineers, tell him your idea and why you think it will work, and anything else you think's important, like the formulas."
"Hello?" Fester says. "I am Lieutenant Fester of the Knights Templar, Chief Artillery Instructor. To whom am I speaking?" When he tries, the hiss goes away completely.
"Fred Kohler, Chief Engineer, JEF," Fred replies. "What's this about shooting off a Linear Cannon from a planetary surface?"
What follows is an exchange of mathematics and engineering jargon that goes so far over Tasha's head it must surely leave scratches in the ceiling. "You realize we'll have to do at least one full orbit at this range," Fred says, finally saying something Tasha can grasp.
Tasha folds her arms and settles back, thinking. While her exposure to artillery is quite limited, she at least knows when to lead, follow, or get out of the way -- and this is a time for the third option. That doesn't stop her from thinking, though. Maybe a grounding, physical connection? But a slow projectile would be damaged or vaporized, a solid wire would melt, and even a large pillar would need to penetrate successfully which is doubtful, not to mention the weight. A net? Vaporized. Cage? Impractical, meltable. Perhaps insulated, shapped charges? But could they survive? Is there a non-electrically detonated explosive in sufficent quantities? But it'd never gather here on time ... "Hrrm," goes Tasha.
"Tasha? Are you there?" Fred asks.
"Huh? You need me?" The red woman responds, looking as surprised as she sounds.
"Yeah, Gizmo is going to have a heart attack when he finds out what we need to do, but I'm sure he'll do it just to see the shot fired," Fred says. "Now, I can get this ready to fire in six hours, but the time of flight is going to be seven minutes, because the damned spear has to orbit the planet in order to hit the target. That means you have to keep the target in place for those seven minutes! Oh, and get everyone to two miles safe distance too, just in case."
"So: Tasha, stand and distract it while also being two miles away. Simultaneously." The young woman looks dubious, but then simply shurgs and smiles. "Well, what's the worst that can happen? All this facial assymetry was bothering me, anyway. If you can do it, then I can do my part."
"Melchior has a stator, that means he can go into inertial stasis," Fred reminds. "So.. as long you aren't right in the impact zone, you should be able to zip free in time. This tungsten rod is going to hit at 10 miles per second and generate a kiloton of impact energy."
"I love big explosions," Tasha agrees, smiling more. "I'll be fine. Just don't shoot me or me and my Titan will haunt you."
"You'd better survive," Fred notes. "Because if your monster isn't taken out by this, you're going to have to go round up virgins to sacrifice to it."
Tasha snorts a laugh. "Where would I find virgins? Or you for that matter. Besides, the last monster was fine with non-virgin sacrifi-aaand why am I discussing this? You!" She stabs a finger at Fester, despite his being her teacher. "I'll need your help on this, to provide additional assistance should it be necessary. Can you stay in contact with me? Radio?"
"I will be on channel 9, coordinating the artillery," Fester notes.
"Great. Well, lets go find the Captain and tell him the scary, mushroom cloud making news." With that Tasha sits up, gathers her datapad, and heads for the door.
"I need the target coordinates to be as accurate as possible, Tasha, because this thing is going to have a wide margin of error no matter what," Fred warns.
"Distract monster. Escape. Pinpoint precision. Don't die. Anything else?" She asks as she peaks out the door.
"What I wouldn't do for a laser at the moment," the woman then mutters as before she signs at a passing Silent-One, "Have you see Captain Frane?"
"This is going to be messy, so if I accidentally blow away part of the base you'll take responsibility, right?" Fred asks.
The Silent-One informs Tasha that the Captain is on the bridge (which is off-limits to everyone else apparently) but will take a message to him.
"Sure, a firing squad can't be worse than absorbing an explosion in a confined space, right? All my hopes and dreams were just making my life complicated anyway," the woman replies to the voice coming from her device. She then nods to the Silent-One. "Tell him we have a plan and we need him as soon as possible."
As soon as possible turns out to be about 20 minutes. Frane finally shows up, looks at Tasha and Fester, and then says, "Let me guess, your plan is to fire me out of a cannon to hit Tesla between the eyes, just to see whose head is harder?"
"They could fire us both and see if solid rounds or hollow-headed ammo is more effective," Tasha replies with a grin, her hand holding a piece of chalk as she and Fester move towards the chalk board. "But no. At least, close. I've talked it over with my comrades and, with Fester's masterful input and direction, we've determined that we can, in fact, line up a linear cannon shot across the horizon that will result in a large chucnk of metal striking near the target at ten miles a second, resulting in a extremely satisfying explosion and, hopefully, a rain of disgusting Tesla parts that I am not volunteering to clean up." As she talks, she draws the planet, and tehn the path of the weapon and a small mushroom cloud directly on the target. Also included are a stick-fugure Melchior, concentric circles displaying blast radius and safe distant, and another stick figure that is the monster. "You have questions; I know you do."
"That trajectory is going over the target, then looping around the planet to reenter behind the launch point in order to strike?" Frane asks, eyes wide. "How long will that take?"
"Seven hours to prepare, seven minutes to impact. The target will need to be distracted while the projectile is inbound, and this is going to be your favorite part: that job falls to me. So! If you're really lucky, two things will be out of your feathers for good. Don't count on it though; I don't die easily." Tasha then turns to Fester and nods to him. "I'll be handling the spotting as well, which will be relayed via satelite to our ship. Fester will assit as needed, in between coordinating the artillery. Anything to input, Fester?"
"The impact will be Sssevere," Fester notes. "EssSsentially we are creating an artificial meteor sStrike. Once fired, we musst retreat to a ssafe distance. Two miles is ideal."
"Probably a good idea to have infantry and other personnel behind cover or, failing that, flat on the ground. I also wouldn't look at the detonation, as its luminosity will be considerable," Tasha adds, smiling.
Frane is silent, staring at the chalk diagram for a moment. He then turns and goes to the table to stare at the map of the likely battle zone. Finally, he pulls the radio handset from his belt, turns to a specific channel, and says, "Commander Vultan, you're needed in the briefing room."
"He commands the Engineers," Fester helpfully hisses to Tasha.
Tasha folds her hands behind her back, tapping the chalk against them. "That's good to know. The Captain -- our Captain, that is -- primarily deals with the upper echelons. Me, I mostly do things like this."
After a few minutes, a uniformed human arrives. While Abaddonian humans tend to have hair of just about any color, this man's hair is pure grey - from age, apparently. He's wrinkled, but still tall and 'beefy' as old-Tasha would put it. "What do you need, Captain?" he asks Frane.
"Plan B," the Vartan says, pointing to the map of the canal. "You came up with it during the previous attack, but it wasn't needed. Can it still be done?"
Tasha inclines her head to the man as he arrives, having used the time waiting to further detail the chalk outline and add in Fester and Fred's calculations. She waits by the board, silent, but attentive.
"Yes, we have the explosives and gear," the man says, and taps the side of the canal closest to the city. "We can put the charges one hundred feet down the canal wall, and bury the beast if it enters the canal."
"How long would it stay buried?" Frane asks.
The red woman's ears perk at this part in particular, given its contribution to her potential survival.
"That.. would depend on how much we'd softened it up beforehand," Vultan admits. "We estimate Atlas's weight at 7000 tons, so our plan was to drop 10,000 tons of rock on him."
"And if it doesn't hold him, he'll have an easier time climbing out of the canal," Frane points out.
"That's why it is Plan B, sir," the human remarks.
"As soon as you can spare the people, set it up," Frane says. "If the first line doesn't turn the creature back, we'll go with a slightly modified Plan B."
"Modified how?" Vultan asks, finally seeming to notice the other two in the room.
"And then it's up to me," Tasha observes. "I'm not sure how long or well I can distact and enemy I can't engage directly, but I might be able to distract it through means other than direct violence. It seems likely it can sense ... Hm." The young woman tilts her head, muzzle twisting, then she suggests, "What do you think of cutting power to the city?"
"Blow the wall, bury Tesla.. and hold him there until a miracle drops from the sky," Frane notes. He gives Tasha an odd look. "Shut off the power? You think Tesla is crossing a thousand miles just for the electricity?"
"No, but I think maybe that it can sense it. Think about it, it's a giant electromagneticly active lizard. It's big, it's an animal, and it controls electricity. And what do animals do? They eat, they deficate, and they have sex and they have family -- I worked with them for a long time. Something is drawing it here. Something, is interesting to it. And what would a giant, iron-rich electromagnetic lizard want with a giant, metal-rich electromagnetically active city? Chances are they're pretty obvious, and, something that stands out to it -- something, it can detect and follow." The red woman half-turns towards the board, pointing at the monster and the city drawing in turn. "If its prey, mate, or whatever it thinks the city is suddenly seems to 'vanish,' or at least fade, it will probably be confused. Maybe confused enough to give us a little more time."
"Also, if it reaches the city, stopping the power beforehand would prevent unnecessary fires," Tasha adds in afterthought.
"We'll contact the city emergency council with the suggestion," Frane notes. "It'll make things a little harder for the people in the shelters, but may make a difference all the same."
"I have an idea on that as well -- how to help avoid panic amongst the people. I have a, um, a friend who would probably be happy to, um, help keep the people distracted and so maybe minimize stress. I'd need a line to the city though, and well, um, it forwarded to a certain person," Tasha adds, fidgeting a bit more than usual.
"The city knows how to deal with these situations, don't worry," Frane says. "Our focus is keeping Tesla from getting to it."
"Of course, sir. As you wish. That's all I have," Tasha says, nodding.
"We'll be landing in 30 minutes, so we should all get back to our stations and prepare," Frane notes. "May the Star be with us."
"We'll see," Tasha remarks before inclining her head to the collected Templars and military personnel. "I'll return to my Titan now. Excuse me." And with that, she turns to head out.
Things are still active in the cargo bay, as things are readied for drop off. "These supplies are for the east drop, these for the west," a Karnor explains to the Silent-Ones supercargo. "Why can't you put them all down in the same place?" he signs in exasperation.
Tasha walks amongst the bustle with a far away expression, her mind on the task before her and everything else seeming very far away. She takes the shortest path to towards her Titan, trying to avodi getting in the way. It should be enough, she thinks, an obnoxious little voice in her head reminding her that it's never enough for absolute certainty. No lights, buried, me ... Seven minuts isn't that long. I'll still need to get away ... Hmm ..
Getting into Melchior silences the distractions of the cargo bay at least. After connecting, there's a moment of silence before Melchior says, "I have accessed the mission data."
"And what a fun mission it is, too! What do you think?" Tasha inquires as she settles in, hands tucking back behind her head.
"From cursory analysis, I believe the most vulnerable area of attack for us are the toes," Melchior suggests. "The cross-section is small enough for the shaard to be effective."
"The toes? Undignified, but if it works it works. However, I'm concerned about the EM its generating -- can we handle that much? Or did you already factor that in?" The young pilot asks as she stares up at the ceiling.
"I will have to make judicious use of the stator when on the ground," Melchior notes. "While airborne the ion plasma from the jets renders us neutral."
"Good. I still ahve a lot to learn, don't I? How's your running time going to be? With that much constant power use, will we be able to return to base?" The red woman then asks.
"So long as we have transport we should be fine," Melchior notes. "The other Titans require a carrier, after all, and we are in one now."
"I know, I just wanted to cover everything, just in case, for example, that the carrier and support vehicles are annhiliated and or the mission is a failure," the pilot notes. "Anyway, we'll also be spotting for the cannon strike, which I assume is something that you'll be able to handle without my input? I'm not sure how I could be of direct use there. I will likely engage full depth once we close on the target to ensure maximum efficency, as well."
"I will be able to relay my inertial guidance data to Harmonia," Melchior assures.
"Well, taht covers the basics," Tasha notes, still staring at the ceiling, as if she could see the sky above. "Do you have any observations or concerns?"
"No mention was made of how the creature attacks," Melchior points out. "It may depend solely on its electrical defense."
"They also said it eats Titans. I assume that this is literal, and it can actually eata Titan. Otherwise it may have some sort of forward-facing discharge attack. Either way, lets not stand infront of it. The narrow canal walls should make turing difficult for it, in addition to its massive bulk," Tasha notes. She then closes her eyes, settling in for the long wait. "If possible, we should gather as much data about it as we can. It uses a number of useful biotechnologies the JEF would do well to research. I'm sure the Confederacy would just love to have the details."
"I do not have Dr. Zerachiel's sensor pack," Melchior notes. "Much will have to be determined from the remains, if any."
"Well, I tried, right? If anyone complains I'll just send them to you." Nothibng more comes from the woman, who seems to have settled in for the long wait. Eyes closed, she tries to filter out the fear even as she goes over the coming battle. Over and over, like a march; like a cadence. Over and over to be ready, to pass the time, and to stave off the fear that gnaws at her.
The Titans were dropped off on the west side of the canal, since that's the side Tesla would reach first. On the east side, towards Expedition City, the engineers have been begun working on the landing strip and depots, while the artillery lines up along the cliff edge. More armor keeps pouring in from Expedition City itself, along with tanks pulling flatbed trailers holding more Titans - including a rare Confederate bioroid Titan. Tasha is set on the east side as well, where the fuel-bombs are being readied for her. The command post is little more than a tent, but it's the only structure around.
On the opposite cliff, Titan crews drop loops of cable down, each one running to a Lawbringer. Several armored troops descend the cliff wall alongside the cables.
Tasha watches the battlefield from a computer-constructed mock overhead view, courtesy of the Melchior. The half-map, half digitally reconstructed area of operation render, helps her keep track of the sheer amount of units gathering around her -- a military effort that dwarfs anything she had ever experienced before. The awe inspiring sight of so many Titans and other vehicles lined up is matched only with the apprehension such a sight brings; after all, an entire city is at stake. Not just any city, but the city: Expedition City. The heart and soul of what remains of the original Joint Expeditionary Force, and the melting pot for an entire world. Her battle with Abaddon may have had the world at stake, but it was far away, the threat only a suggestion. Here, now, she can see the stakes -- and she knows that failure is not an option.
The repelling teams must be setting the charges now. The weapon will be ready soon, the monster isn't far now. Not long now. As she watches the activity, she can't help but feel rather small compared to it all. Even the mighty Melchior, as tall as a building, is but one of many such machines all arrayed against a threat even greater, still. She's not part of a unit, but an army. A joint army. A military force. Her mother and father figure had always tried to keep her away from the fighting. I wonder what they'd think, to see me now.
Someone out there seems inclined to find out, since everyone else is busy with preparations - except for the Titan pilots, who are waiting on standby. One of the Titans approaches Melchior - the Confederate one. It moves oddly, and doesn't seem like it should be able to stand up - the back and shoulders and chest are very bulky, but the torso and legs seem slim. The right hand is a large-muzzled weapon, making that arm far bulkier than the left one. It stops a dozen feet away, and the 'head' actually pans up and down as it examines the Gryphon.
Melchior's head turns to regard the bioroid, peeking over crossed arms. Its pilot, stirred from her thought, switches cameras to review her visitor as the Titan stops nearby. "A Confederate Titan. Perhaps, one of the last Confederate Titans. I'm surprised to see it, but, it's a interesting, isn't it? What a peculiar machine. I wonder why it's here?" The woman remarks to her AI.
The chest of the insectoid fighting machine opens up in layers, revealing a pulpy, vascular mass behind the armor. There's an Eeee embedded in it, with just his head showing. "You and I are the out-of-placers here, eh?" he squeaks. "No metal in me. You are ceramic alloys?"
"You're not wrong," the great black machine replies. "Mel, I'm going to step outside to have a look. Redisplay my current selections when I get back, please?" Tasha pats her command chair, disconnects, then steps out.
Seconds later, an armored figure, black and gold with blonde hair and a red head appears on the Melchior's shoulder. "Some ceramic, many other alloys and advanced materials," she calls out. "I'm surprised to see a Confederate Titan out here."
"We still exist, just are very expensive to maintain," the Eeee pilots notes. "Vastille here is 7th Generation, cultivated on Abaddon. I'll be trying to plant a duster on Tesla."
"A duster? Me, I'm on paint duty until its time to play bait. So there are generations of Confederate Titan? And yours is named Vastille? Or is that a class?" Tasha calls out. However, while she can yell with the best of them, her hearing isn't so great; a side effects of long shouting matches, heavy wings, and the screetch of pteras. "Mind if I come over?"
"Come on over, but pardon me if I don't come out," the Eeee notes. "It takes awhile. And yes, Vastille is my bioroid. Not as powerful as a 1st Generation, but still capable, even if his plasma gun is vestigial."
Tasha hops off her Titan, glidng over and landing with the squish of organics. "I can just imagine how difficult to maintain the weapon must be," she notes as she steadies herself, sitting down and reaching down to pat the Titan reflexively. "Do you utilize replacement embedded weapons, or do you use hand held devices? My own Melchior is a close-combat model, and you know, sometimes, I would give a lot to have a ranged weapon. At one point, I even had to throw my shaards, which worked out quite well!"
"I've tried used a Titan gun," the Eeee notes. "But it's awkward because I'm right-handed and can only hold it in my left hand. But Vastille is really more of a family heirloom than an actual combat machine. It's just that in this particular circumstance, being devoid of electronic components allows for some new tactics." The Titan plucks a big black ball from a cluster of several stuck to its waist, and holds it up. "Behold! The duster! A sticky rubber ball full of iron filings and a small bursting charge."
"Oh, a form of chaff? To help disspiate the electrical charge and possibly create a distraction or blind spot it, if it does use a form of EM sensing," Tasha observes, hoping she got that right. "The Magi I pilot is a specialized close-combat model, one of three, though the other two are either destroyed or unusable for various reasons, so really, he's the last fully functional, pure representative of his kind. Like your own machine, we link at the neurological level, so in a way, out machines are a lot more similiar than they are to the Lawbringers."
"Yup, got it first try," the pilot notes, grinning widely. "Of course, I have to be on top of Tesla to place them.. but I've got working jumpjets, and speed. If I had to go up against that thing in a Lawbringer.. well, I wouldn't. Those guys are going to be fighting that thing, so they'll get noticed by it. I'll take my suicide missions with less stress than that, thank you!"
"I'll be nearby in case you need help. My objective, aside from painting the thing with fuel, is to engage it as short range and act as a distraction until such time as the weapon's accuracy is assured, at which time I'm to withdraw. I'm sure you've been informed, but, when the time comes you should try to get to the safe zone as soon as possible -- and even then, be ready for the shockwave and high illumination levels, as they may be damaging to your Titan," Tasha explains, folding her hands across her knees. "I'll be last out, so if you're behind me when I leave, well ... Don't be behind me."
"Anyway," Tasha continues, not wanting to pause on a depressing note. "So you've had the Titan a while? It's a heirloom?"
"I hope the cliff walls will provide some shielding, if Tesla is meant to be struck while in the canal," the Eeee notes. "Ah, forgive me, yes, an heirloom. I am Viceroy Villem Vasterlion the Third. And you are.. Tashly, yes?"
"That's quite a title!" Tasha says as she leans back, sounding impressed. "I'm afraid I'm just Cadet Aldara Tasha Argentine. Where did you hear the name Tashly?"
"Ah, well, I only heard it the one time and I'm a bit deaf on one side," Villem claims. "Accident at the nursery. My family are bioroid cultivators from way, way back. Were luckily on vacation when the life dome fell to the Imperials a few years back."
"You too? I spent my early life yelling, screaming, and and getting the same from the wind and the pteras. I used be a drover, a kind of airship pilot that focuses on live animals. Please excuse me if I sound like I'm shouting," tasha says apologetically. She then smiles, a smile that grows increasingly uncomfortable as she struggles to think of what to say in the face of the great Confederate loss. "Um, I heard about that. It was, um, before I came here, an unpleasant business. Um ... "
"The appearance of the Pit threw a lot of things into chaos," Villem notes, and Vastille demonstrates its agility by shrugging. "My family still has much of their holdings though, so we have survived, although the market for bioroids is a bit dried up.. at the moment. I'm thinking the Imperials, with their new lush lifedome, might be interested in a few.."
"Wouldn't that be considered betrayal?" Tasha asks as she steadies herself from the bioroid's shrug. "Not that it's any of my business, of course! I'm afraid I don't know a whole lot about Confederate politics, or, really, the deeper details of any national political arrangement. I've been studying, of course, but there's only so much time. In fact, I was right in the middile of discussing what to do about my studies when the alarms went off. At least, I seem to do well here, on the battlefield."
"There's politics, and there's business," Villem notes. "The Imperials have a dearth of heavy machinery capable of dealing with a uniformly organic environment, and have never had Titans. I'm sure my family can come up with something they will find irresistible. And having Imperials dependant on Confederate biotechnology would hardly be a betrayal."
In the distance, there is a roar that sounds like the end of the world. "Ah, I think that is our cue to armor back up.." Villem notes. "I hope to see you again after this is over, Aldara."
"Hmm, I can see the logic in that. Perhaps in the future the Joint Expeditionary Force will also have use of such Titans, so it's good that we've met. Perhaps we can do business some day." Tasha pauses, listening then nods to her conversation partner. "It certainly sounds angry," she notes, before glancing back to the Eeee. "I hope so, too. Stay alive, Viceroy."
With their good-byes spoken, Tasha stands up and takes a running leap off the bioroid, circling her Titan several times to gains sufficent altitde before she lands on its rear, entering. Sliding in to her seat, Tasha waits for the arm to connect and thinks, "/It's show time, Mel. Get us ready, we'll be heading out very soon."
"I have new data from Harmonia," Melchior notes. An aerial image of Tesla appears. The distance makes the creature look deceptively small, and the sparks dancing between the multitude of tooth-like spikes along its back and frill could be shrugged away as glitches in the signal - until an unfortunate iron-rich boulder gets vaporized by an actinic bolt off of Tesla's shoulder. Then the numbers appear, indicating that Tesla is a bit bigger than the historical data showed him to be at his last visit.
"It looks like he's been doing some growing up," Tasha remarks as she eyes the comparison data. "No point in forwarding that, command can't really miss it. And look at that boulder go! Abaddonian life is really impressive, some times." The red woman shakes her head at it all; a giant electrical lizard facing an army! never could she have predicted she would see this day. A day she hopes she can see the end of, as well. "Any commentary, Mel?"
"If it is like an ordinary lizard, it would be best to not appear to be a juicy bug," Melchior suggests.
"Is that a joke? But you're right, we should try to be circumspect in our movements and avoid eradic movement until the time comes when we need to provide a distraction. Assaulting the legs after the firebombing is complete should help slow it down, then we can relocate to just outside the frontal danger zone so it can keep track of us, and, hopefully, waste time following us." After taking a deep breath, Tasha sits up full and exhales, her pilot's chair shift in to a forward, motorcycle-rider position as she exhales. Alert, eyes focused and ears perked, Tasha is ready. "Lets go."