We didn't just have everything- we were the cause of everything.
Our civilization had reached the pinnacle of perfection and prosperity…
But there was one fatal flaw: Our world was dying.
In our arrogance, we decided to abandon this old world to form a new one. Like our civilization, it would live forever. It was our most daring endeavor, and we rejoiced as our masterpiece came to life.
However, our salvation became our doom.
Like an organism expelling a virus, the cosmos rejected our creation; in the end, we only found ourselves being driven to the brink of extinction…
"What's so important that you wanted to see me in person, General?"
"Have some patience, Captain. War is more than simply meeting our enemies on the frontlines. Espionage, rearmament, and rest and recovery are just as important."
"I still don't understand why you decided to pull me out of the battlefield."
"It'll become clear to you soon." The general placed his hand on the captain's right shoulder. "You're one of the best soldiers on Aquata, Captain. I have confidence that you're up to any task that is put before you."
"… Ahem." The captain smirked, covered his mouth and beard with a rough right hand, and cleared his throat. His brown hair, mixed with speckles of gray, shined under the corridor's lamp as he looked straight at the general. "I'm… flattered, sir."
The general, who rarely showed any expression aside from seriousness, seemed to break into a hint of a smile. Despite the long relationship he had with the captain, the old general was good at hiding his thoughts behind stern eyes. His silvery eyebrows and hair, which complemented his dark skin, resonated with the manly aura of a real leader - one could perhaps go as far as to say it was the aura of a respectable father. Although the captain had stepped onto the general's battlecruiser with some worry in the back of his mind, he was reassured almost instantly the moment he looked at his old commanding officer's solemn face.
"With all due respect, General, I'm pretty sure you didn't pull me out of the battlefield just to give me a compliment."
The general sighed.
"You might be one of the most decorated war heroes on our planet, but you really need to learn how to remain quiet sometimes…" The captain chuckled quietly in response.
"Well, I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment." Now it was the general's turn to chuckle.
"I brought you here for a good reason," the general continued, stopping just outside a meeting room. Slowly opening the door, he boldly announced to the captain, "Meet your new unit, Triton."
"What… the hell is this?" To Triton's surprise, there were two people waiting inside.
One, who wore a mask with the eyes exposed, was standing, leaning back on a wall in the room. Aside from the fact that this person was definitely from the neighboring planet Zikar, it was difficult to tell who it was due to multiple layers of protective and concealing gear, as well as body cybernetics. For a second, Triton actually went as far as to think that this person may have been a robotic artificial intelligence merely coated in human skin.
The other was a girl with long, straight, dark hair and sharp eyes. Although she was fully equipped with some kind of plug suit, she was a young girl in her teens, possibly even younger. Unlike the first member who was staring evenly at Triton even as the general opened the door, the girl's focus was on her hand, which displayed a digital screen in mid-air; in fact, it was a mobile game. She sat quietly by the table, with her eyes concentrated and her fingers swiftly tapping buttons, peacefully enjoying her own world.
"They are Panthera and Alcedes, representatives from Zikar and Fiera, respectively," the general explained. "You will lead this group on your mission, and receive direct orders from the United Alpha-1 Federation."
Triton's eyes shifted left and right, glancing back and forth between Panthera and Alcedes, before turning his attention back to the general. He smiled faintly for a second, but then realized that the general was not joking. Suddenly hot with anger, Triton raised his voice, even blurting out the name of his commanding officer. "General Osiris! This… This is absurd! What is this nonsense? The kid over there looks like she should still be in elementary school!"
"Scuse me," Alcedes spoke up with a thin, high-pitched voice. "I'm 14, and that's definitely past elementary!" Triton ignored her.
"General, I'm not going to sit here babysitting a little girl, while my fellow soldiers are out there dying on the battlefield!" The general held up his hands briefly to placate him.
"Calm down, Captain," the general replied. "First of all, these two are also soldiers, and they are delegates sent by their respective planets. Any disrespect you show them will be taken as disrespect to their planets, and ultimately, the United Federation and myself. Secondly, I'll have you know that Alcedes' credentials are well-vouched for by Fieran High Command. She is one of their most talented engineers and will be an invaluable asset to the unit. And besides," the old man smirked, "she outranks you."
"What?"
"You should consider yourself lucky that you ended up as the leader of this group, Captain. The Zikar War Council couldn't bear seeing a Fieran leading this unit, so they've compromised, and made you the leader."
"… Not a big fan of being ringleader by default," Triton grumbled to himself.
"Thank Panthera and Zikar for not making your life more miserable than it has to." The general slowly marched out of the room. "The United Alpha-1 Federation will give you your first assignment in a short while." His next words dripped with sarcasm. "Make yourself comfortable, Triton. You have a long trip ahead with these folks."
Triton sat in silence as his commanding officer departed. He impatiently eyed his two partners. To his right was Panthera, who hadn't moved a single muscle since the introduction. Triton wasn't too worried - although a little too silent, as far as he could see, this agent from Zikar at least looked qualified to be a special operative.
On the other side, however, was Alcedes, who was still fidgeting with her computer. Everything about the girl irritated the grizzled soldier. 'She's no soldier,' Triton thought to himself. The girl looked small, skinny, and fragile. He didn't care about any valuable abilities she possessed. The entire solar system was engulfed in a war against countless alien invaders, and Triton wasn't about to waste his valuable time with a little kid.
Breaking the elongated silence, Alcedes began to hum, and then started to whistle the tune from her video game. "High score!" She shouted with delight. The high-pitched music got on Triton's nerves and tested his already-thin patience.
"That's enough!" Triton raised his voice. Alcedes glared back at him.
"Why are you so angry? Did you not get enough sleep?"
"Not enough sleep? What?"
"Well, I hear a lack of sleep can cause people to become jittery and more prone to bursts of anger."
"Listen here, you little twerp." Triton slammed his fist on the table. "I don't know what this circus of a team is for, but you better start taking this whole thing seriously. Understand?"
"But we haven't even got our briefings yet," Alcedes replied, narrowing her eyes. In her irritation, part of her wanted to provoke him. "How can I even be serious about what I don't know?"
"You…" the grizzled soldier hadn't expected such bold and collected response from the girl. He turned to Panthera, hoping for assistance in correcting Alcedes, but the agent of Zikar was staring at nothing in particular, seemingly disinterested in taking part in their conversation.
'Why am I stuck with this bunch?' Triton grumbled to himself. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a fat cigar. With a quick flick of his wrist, a motion practiced thousands of times before, he lit the cigar and began to smoke.
"Ooooh, is that a cigar?" Its glowing tip immediately caught Alcedes' attention.
"What, you never seen people smoking before?" Triton replied.
"My teachers tell me that smoking is really, really, really bad for you- that it'll kill you."
"Oh yeah?" Amused, Triton cracked a slight smirk, then narrowed his eyes meaningfully, lowering his voice. "Did they tell you how much they're missing out in life?"
Alcedes' large purple eyes glittered. "Missing out?"
"Here, kid," Flipping his cigar, the soldier extended it to Alcedes. With eyes wide open, the girl slowly reached for it. Instantly, in one fluid swipe, Panthera snatched it out of Triton's hand and threw it into a nearby trash receptacle.
"Hey!" Alcedes protested, but her only reward was a gentle, silent smack on the forehead by Panthera. Triton laughed.
"You're killin' all the fun here." The agent of Zikar gave no verbal response. Triton continued, eyes on Panthera. "So what are you supposed to be? Don't tell me you're her babysitter or something."
Panthera's only response was a continued silence.
"… Great." Triton rolled his eyes and leaned back into his chair, hands behind his head. "We have a brat and a mute… how fantastic."
Just then, one of the holographic screens along the wall lit up.
"Good afternoon, unit." The general appeared, speaking to the three soldiers. "I hope you've gotten a little more acquainted with each other since I left the room."
"Yup, yup!" Alcedes cheerfully replied.
"… Oh, we're acquainted alright…" Triton muttered under his breath.
"We've designed new customized COG's (Combat-Optimized Gearframes) for each of you," the general answered. "Head to the loading dock to get changed into pilot uniforms."
"Woah, new COG's?" Excited, Alcedes raised her voice like a child eager to receive a birthday present. She quickly exited the room and rushed down the corridor to the waiting gearframes. Triton sighed as the girl's obnoxious voice rang deep in his eardrums.
'This is a mistake.'But the soldier quickly composed himself. Brand new war machines for an elite unit meant that United Alpha-1 Federation was taking this unit seriously. Triton and Panthera followed Alcedes into the loading dock.
Three colossal machines stood majestically under the tall ceiling of an engineering bay. The bay was an organized but crowded space where dozens of scientists and engineers moved to and fro, constantly analyzing data and making adjustments. At the very center, between the three warbots, was a command tower with large glass windows. The general stood inside, carefully watching over the operation of the entire hall.
Adjacent to each other, each of the gearframes had a distinct look, engineered in the style of their own peoples. It was easy to identify which machine was designed by which planet.
At the farthest left was a crimson machines, sporting sharp edges, decorated with serrated spines throughout its body. It had four arms and two thick hind limbs equipped with large talon-like claws. The segmented, organically-shaped armor reminded Triton of many of the other military and civilian vehicles used by his people on Aquata, and was definitely inspired by the crustaceous lifeforms such as a crab, or perhaps a lobster; it was pretty apparent that this was designed by his ocean-filled home planet of Aquata. On many areas of its body rested large orb-like shapes that were common on many of Aquata's vehicles. Triton knew they contained the complex sensor arrays that would enable this machine to function effectively in combat, while being extremely sensitive to the environment. Above the head, which swept upward in the center like the bow of a ship, two red metallic threads were implanted on either side at the very tip, pointing upward and behind the head like large antennae. There were likely some type of new scanner system, tied into the sensor orbs. One of its four clawed hands held a dark-colored staff topped with a gold disk capable of firing sonic wave projectiles. While the machine itself seemed distinct from most COG's that he had seen, Triton wasn't too delighted with a COG that was better suited as a support unit than a tanky fighter.
At the right was a light gray steel-colored machine with gold-yellow trim and highlights; unlike most that stood tall on two legs, this gearframe was hunched down on all four limbs, like a feline predator. It had elegant but powerful limbs equipped with sharp claws, and a mouth section that would open up to bear razor-sharp fangs even more precise than the jagged, angular armor of the previous red gearframe. Triton could tell that this particular one was designed on Zikar, the jungle planet, with close-combat and stealth in mind. It was mere speculation at best, but, judging from its overall shape and the thruster-like protrusions on its back, this machine's top ground speed could be supersonic. In terms of the protectiveness of its armor, it seemed slightly lacking. The streamlined shape indicated that it was meant to avoid direct enemy fire with agility, rather than take it head on. The grizzled soldier simply did not feel much enthusiasm for a machine that didn't appear capable of standing toe-to-toe against the enemy on the frontlines.
Standing between these two COG's was a white gearframe that shined brightly under the light. Out of the three, this one looked the most humanoid in shape. With powerful legs equipped with vernier thrusters to enhance speed and jumping distance, and strong, steady arms to grapple the enemy or hold an array of weapons, this machine immediately captured Triton's eyes. The broad shoulders, wide chest armor, and protected joints clearly distinguished this one from the three as a frontline ground-pounder. Aesthetically, it was the simplest of them, and despite this white machine having been designed by his former enemies, Triton found it making the greatest impression on him, more than even the familiar-looking style of the red machine.
The white machine also had three wing-like protrusions on its back, which implied some kind of flight capability. In addition to its leg thrusters, Triton could see rocket boosters also protruding from its back and elbows. He surmised that, while in motion, it could fire short rocket thrusts for sudden extra bursts of speed, greatly assisting with its effectiveness in combat. Despite its origin, he found himself liking this machine for its simplicity and rather bland style. 'Simple, blocky shapes hiding their advanced tech and complex natures…' Triton chuckled to himself.'Heh… Those damn Fierans…'
"Cool!" Alcedes couldn't take her eyes off the three machines from the moment she saw them. Unlike Triton, she didn't really care about the details of each one at the moment. She cared just that they were brand new, sparkling under the hangar bay floodlights, and she was eager to hop into one of them.
The general's voice blared over the speakers, echoing into the massive bay. "These COG's were created by the finest engineers from each of our three planets. They are extremely durable, and were each designed to accommodate an arsenal that could match some of our battlecruisers."
Triton whistled appreciatively. "Hmm… that's impressive sir." Compliments from the jaded warrior were quite rare. "But," he continued, "I'm curious as to how each planet's world government was able to pull enough resources to build these. Last time I heard, they've been refusing to send out aid to remote settlements due to supply shortages."
"Your conspiracy theories are always welcome, Triton." The captain's subtly condescending remark soured the general's mood. "With our people's very survival of on the line, however, the Federation made the construction of these specialized gearframes of the highest priority."
Triton smirked ruefully, cracking his knuckles. "Oh, don't worry. I'll be sure to make good use of them."
"They're each built with an A.I. that will take your biometric data and synchronize themselves to you, enhancing your performance over time as they learn and adapt alongside you. As learning machines, they'll even be able to adjust and upgrade your onboard weapons loadout in the field, based on your individual tastes and the needs of the given mission. Thanks to the Fieran technology we applied to all three machines, they have the creative ability to develop functions we haven't even thought of yet." The general paused, pleased with what they had been able to accomplish. "Why don't you three get in your gearframes and give them a go?"
"Whee!" At the utterance of the general's suggestion, Alcedes immediately rushed to the white gearframe at the center, quickly climbing into the cockpit. She knew this machine originated from the scientists and engineers of her homeworld. Triton hopped onto the red machine, and Panthera followed suit, entering the gold-yellow one.
"System on. Welcome." The red gearframe, with a steady, confident woman's voice, responded to Triton as soon as he sat down.
"Alright," Triton leaned back. "Let's see what all the fuss is about…"
"System calibrating." The machine continued. "Checking pilot's biometric data."
"Yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah…" Already annoyed by the soft but firm voice, Triton reached for a cigar inside his pocket as his other hand deftly reached into another pocket for his lighter.
"Warning, smoking inside is prohibited at all times." The machine's voice sounded stern.
"What the hell?" Displeased, but unwilling to fight with the A.I., Triton put away the cigar.
"Synchronization level at fifty-five percent. Conclusion: Minimal combat effectiveness. Replacement pilot highly advised."
Triton shook his head, grumbling under his breath. "Customized for each of us, my ass…"
Back in the command tower, the general let out a long sigh as he watched the synchronization levels of all three gearframes with their pilots on the nearby digital displays.
One of the scientists nearby slowly approached the general. "The synchronization rate for Triton is… err… how would we put it…" He kept hesitating and stuttering to squeeze out the last word.
"I know… abysmal."
"Yes… Sir, with that kind of synchronization rate, the gearframe will hardly be able to fly off the ground, let alone perform any of the more advanced actions required on a regular basi-"
"Yes, yes, I know." The general snapped. He sighed again. 'Dammit, Triton…'
"Pssst… what the heck is going on?" several engineers in the tower quietly chatted amongst themselves. "This worked perfectly in our test runs."
"Sure did, but… I heard that grumpy guy's not actually the designated pilot for this gearframe..."
"What? Is that for real?"
"This isn't going to work!" Another engineer hissed. "These machines aren't just simple vehicles you can switch around at will! What's the Federation thinking?!"
"I know, I know…"
"Well, I heard the original guy was killed in the last bat-"
"Silence." The general sliced through the nervous air with a single word, immediately ceasing everyone's hushed conversations. "We are at the brink of annihilation by alien forces whose powers are beyond our imagination." He leveled a cool gaze at the engineers. "Any baseless speculation and hearsay that undermines the authority of the United Alpha-1 Federation or the morale of our soldiers will not be tolerated. Understood?"
"Y-Yes sir!"
"Now, then." The general sighed. "Triton is the one who will pilot one of these gearframes. That will not change."
"General, sir! But what should we do about the synchronization rate?"
"Hmm... Is it possible to switch the pilots around?"
"Sir? As in…?"
"Could we move Triton to another machine, either the Fieran one or the one from Zikar?" The general looked up suddenly, his hand leaving his chin. He silently clapped his hands together. "Actually, let's just run a calibration test for all three gearframes with each of the pilots. It will take extra time, but may produce better results."
"Yes sir!"
The three pilots had been sitting in their machines for a while. The respective A.I.s on board had started going through various training and systems acclimation protocols with their occupants… except for Triton. The red machine would no longer speak to him, except occasionally to respond to his quiet frustration with a "Please standby." At one point it elaborated: "Synchronization levels below minimally acceptable standards. Awaiting further orders from Federation Command." It annoyed him to no end, and that annoyance grew with the passage of time. After some time, the general's voice came to them over their speaker systems. Alcedes and Panthera immediately stopped what they were doing. Triton sighed with relief. He never thought in all these years he'd actually be grateful to hear another human voice, much less that of the general.
"I apologize for the technical difficulty. We'd actually like to run a little test to optimize the performance of the machine."
"You sure were prepared, general." Triton stated drily. Back in the control tower, the general growled inwardly. 'You're the reason we're in this situation to begin with…' He wisely decided to ignore the jaded warrior.
"Everyone, out of your gearframes."
"Aww…" Alcedes was disappointed. "I was just getting ready to start…"
"I'm going to have our techs run each of you through a calibration test with each of the units," the general stated. "It was a slight error in our finalization process. Nothing major."
It certainly didn't seem like 'nothing major,' but Triton withheld his opinion. "Right, right..." The grizzled soldier opened the cockpit hatch and climbed out. "I was getting tired of this smart-ass, smoke-detecting lobster gearframe anyway..."
The three pilots each tried the other machines, starting with Triton, then Alcedes, and lastly Panthera. The scientists moved quickly, facilitating the rotations, so that the process didn't take longer than necessary.
After testing Zikar's gearframe, Triton took about two minutes or so to sit inside the white machine from Fiera. Oddly, unlike the previous ones, the A.I. system did not speak a word, but only replied with holographic visuals on its screen and the soft hum of the machinery.
"Finally, a machine that's doing what it should be… shutting up." Leaning back, Triton relaxed in the peaceful silence the gearframe offered.
"Hey, this red gearframe seems pretty awesome!" Alcedes' high-pitched voice piqued up over the comm system. She finished her calibration and walked out with a smile on her face. "She's got at least a dozen different functions, and she's pretty clever too!"
"Oh, good," Triton responded, with sarcastic encouragement in his voice. "I'm glad you can handle the smart-ass A.I. of the lobster machine better than I can."
"Lobster? Tee hee!" Alcedes giggled. "Now that I think about it, you're right. It does look like a lobster… or, what I've learned about lobsters, anyway."
After a few more minutes, Panthera exited the last machine and joined the other two.
"Sir?" The scientists handed the general the test results. "The calibrations are complete."
"Give me the summary," the general replied, quickly glancing through the papers
"We didn't think the idea was going to work, but… the Fieran girl, Alcedes. She has an impressive synchronization rate across the board. She was over ninety percent with all three of the machines."
"Good, good. And what about the other two?"
"Well, Triton registered almost zero percent with Zikar's machine, but with Fiera's machine he got up to at least eighty percent."
"Can he function in combat with eighty percent?"
"Certainly, sir. And since we developed these COG's to be learning machines, this rate should only improve over time. Hopefully it will get as close to one hundred percent as possible before the mission concludes."
"Very good. And Panthera?"
"Well… We think Panthera's best with the designated machine from Zikar. Nothing else worked too well; honestly, if you ask me, sir, Panthera may not have bothered to try that hard with the others."
"Well then, gentlemen, it would appear that we have our solution."
"I apologize for the delay," the general announced over the speaker. "Triton, you will be piloting the white Fieran-designed gearframe, and Alcedes will be taking control over the red one from our planet. We'll make minor adjustments to the cockpit controls of these two machines to better suit what you're used to from your past machines and vehicles."
"Hmph," Triton snorted. "Whatever you say, General." Alcedes giggled.
"Ha ha, I get to pilot the lobster!"