Twelve
Guardian Command
Area 51
Nevada, Earth
25 August 2017
After having arrived back at the base the day before, Adrian got caught up on developments in the science division. Several changes had taken place while the Eternia had been away. One change was that while P90s would still be used on missions, along with the venerable M47 pulse rifle, General Hammond instituted a change to Adrian's portrayal of the bounty hunter, Cobra. Instead of using a P90 that could be linked back to Earth, Hammond insisted on a different rifle. Gabe selected the F2000 Tactical Rail rifle currently in use in Belgium. The tactical version would allow for fitting whatever scope on the extended rail on top of the weapon. It could also be fitted with a GL1 grenade launcher that fires the same 40x46mm grenades as the M203 launcher used by the U.S. military.
Many alien races used projectile weapons, so the F2000 would be different enough to not arouse suspicion. Hammond approved the selection and ordered that Adrian be checked out on the weapon system as soon as possible.
Adrian, of course, resisted the idea, but orders were orders. His opinion improved dramatically when he found out he would get to fire off a few grenades. Boys with toys. He spent most of the day learning how to disassemble, clean and reassemble the weapon. One he started practicing, he quickly picked up the art of aiming and firing grenades. Instead of using the optoelectronic fire control system originally designed for the weapon system, the trainer decided to try integrating War Wing's system. Since Adrian almost never went anywhere off world without the battlesuit, using the suit's advanced systems would be better than anything Earth could produce. The trick was in designing a headset that would be unobtrusive for that purpose.
The result was as simple as it was elegant. The eyepatch the bounty hunter wore over the left eye, lost hunting a particularly nasty bountyhead, was replaced with a device having the outward appearance of an ocular implant. It was a perfect cover that would allow Adrian to use his metamorphic abilities to turn his left eye into the scared, sightless orb only when necessary.
Gabe's team of geeks came through with an interface that was simple, elegant and it worked. But that wasn't all they had been up to. After returning his new weapon to the armory, Adrian received a summons to the main hangar. He arrived to find Jake, Gabe and Nick standing in the central part of the chamber. Off to the immediate left, the other Guardians were gathered at the monitoring station for the maintenance and upkeep of the battlesuits. The Sorceress appeared to be retelling the events that took place before the oversight committee; occasional bursts of laughter reached his ears over the usual sounds of maintenance, repair and the other activities that were a part of the daily life of the underground installation. Today was a good day because people could converse in small groups without having to shout to be heard above activity in other part of the massive hangar.
"This had better be good, Gabe. I'm told the commissary is serving a veal Parmesan that is actually pretty good. I'll be very unhappy if I miss out," Adrian said meaningfully.
"This won't take long," Gabe promised.
Adrian studied the shape under the shroud for several long moments. Something about it appeared familiar.
More laughter from monitoring station drew Jake's attention. "What's going on over there? Sounds like a good party."
"Oh, the Sorceress is probably giving them a blow by blow from the subcommittee meeting," Adrian said, offhandedly. He squinted at the shrouded object. Eyes widened in sudden realization. Clamping a hand on Gabe's shoulder, Adrian breathed, "You worked the bugs out of it!"
Grinning broadly, Nick confirmed, "We worked the bugs out of it." At a gesture to a couple of techs standing on the other side of the machine, the pair grabbed a fist full of cloth and pulled.
Jake gawked in astonishment. A devilish grin spread across Adrian's face.
The underlying structure was the same as the prototype War Machine, but with major revisions. The cockpit module was taken from an Apache helicopter. A heavy-duty transmission powered three pairs of wheels; one forward and two aft. The wheels were around four feet in diameter, with solid rubber instead of an inflated tube. This prevented flats and, coupled with an independent suspension of all six wheels, allowed it to cross terrain most other off-road vehicles could not hope to despite having a ground clearance of under two feet. Stub wings set on the sides just in front of the rear wheels contained sensors and cameras.
The bulk of the weapons were mounted on the armored aft section, the 30mm gun now up on top where the rotor assembly would be. It could rotate a full three hundred sixty degrees and elevate up to twenty degrees. Locked to two pylons on either side of the gun turret were Hellfire missiles. Below those were the cylinders containing nineteen general-purpose unguided 70 mm, 2.756 inches in diameter, for a total of thirty-eight weapons. As with the prototype, this one ran on a small fusion reactor and contained a fabrication system to replace expendable weapons in seconds. If there was power, there would be weapons to shoot with.
"We've added a few improvements," Nick said. He explained that the main sensor array was still in the nose. A helmet system was being finalized for crewmembers as this version of the War Machine was meant to be the first in a small fleet of vehicles. Since a Guardian rarely went anywhere without the battlesuit, the helmet of the combat mode power armor form could be modified by the AI to the operator's preference and linked in to all onboard systems.
"At least you got rid of the control stick on the side and put in the steering yoke," Adrian said approvingly. Trying to control the prototype in a firefight using the rudder peddles to steer and break while changing direction with the control stick mounted on the right-hand console had turned out to be all but impossible.
Gabe nodded. "Other than that, the control layout is the same as the prototype."
Jake and Adrian climbed into their respective compartments to verify that claim.
"Nick mentioned a new system?" Adrian inquired, scanning the control panels for a clue as to what it could be.
Nick and Gabe shared a knowing grin. "We figured out how to deploy a new modification just for Jake, if he's ever let loose behind the wheel again."
"That wasn't my fault!" Jake snapped.
During the Battle for Grayskull, Jake had driven the prototype into battle. At one point, the enemy zeroed in on Jake and shot up the ground around him, resulting in the War Machine rolling over several times. The tumble damaged enough systems that the machine had been effectively knocked out of the fight. While it wasn't strictly Jake's fault, that didn't stop his friends from teasing him about at every opportunity.
"What new system?" Adrian prodded. He wanted to hit the commissary before his stomach rebelled.
Nick explained. "We have been puzzling through all sorts of blueprints for technology from the Eternia's computer files. Some of it we understand. Some is so theoretical as appear nothing more than magic, or gibberish. But some items are within the realm of the possible for our technology." He paused, grinning; Jake and Adrian simply stared at him. Nick hurried to finish. "We developed, tested and installed a defensive system that creates an armored shell around the machine. The armor is strong enough that you can literally drive through a brick wall almost three feet thick. At speed."
Skeptical, Adrian said, "You're joking."
"We never joke about our work, Adrian," Gabe admonished. "It took some doing, but the armor system works and is ready for deployment."
Jake could see the potential of such a radical system. "Can it be adapted to other things?"
Nick hesitated. "Yes. However, the system doesn't seem to scale up very well to larger objects like, say, a starship."
"We're working on it," Gabe assured them."
"Can't wait to test it out," Adrian grinned.
Gabe and Nick cringed inwardly. When Adrian tested something out, the typical result was having to build it new from scratch, with upgrades.
"I would have loved to see Ambassador Orskov take flight. A little humility would do him good," Sonya mused, smiling at the thought.
"Well, War Wing and Falcon recorded everything," the Sorceress replied. "I'm sure they will be more than happy to play the recordings on one of these monitors for you." She gestured to the stations around them.
Brad shifted his attention to the middle of the floor. "Looks like someone got a new toy."
"Gabe's team finally finished it," Sorceress said. "I heard that is what the production version of the War Machine was supposed to be."
"And yet nothing new added to our arsenal," Sonya complained.
"There are plenty of systems to choose from in my files," War Wing reminded her. The designated monitor for the battlesuit lit up with one schematic after another flashing across the screen. "All you have to do is choose and I can transfer a copy to Hawk."
Jeromy frowned. "I'm surprised you haven't been picking and choosing already."
Blitzkrieg sounded horrified. "Without any input from our operators? Oh, the horror. While we are built upon the memories and personalities of our former operators, we cannot fight effectively without our current operators."
Claw chimed in. "We certainly have our preferences, but finding ones that both machine and operator can agree on is preferred. It will make us more effective fighters."
Everyone thought of the limited mobility War Wing displayed at the subcommittee meeting. The techs had thought it possible, but without a practical test, no one could be sure what the AIs were capable of on their own. A testing schedule was to be set up to find those limits and develop contingency plans.
The operators filed that away for a later date. They had more important things on their minds.
"Enough of that for now," Brad said, changing the subject. "We have a more important matter to discuss."
"What could be more important than preparing for the next mission?" Sorceress asked. The sinking feeling her gut told her where this was going.
"We want to know how date night went," Sonya said. Her tone and posture indicated that she would not accept the Sorceress' usual evasive answers.
"Show them or I will generate a hologram everyone in the hangar will see," Falcon advised her operator.
Casting a sidelong glance at the normally stoic battlesuit, Sorceress muttered, "Traitor." She held up her right hand, palm up. Drawing on the magical energies created by the living planet, a hologram took shape. The swirl of energies darted about in a spherical shape for a few seconds before settling down into the form the Sorceress imagined. The mass coalesced into two figures standing on the palm. The others gathered around for a closer look at the life-like hologram of Adrian dressed in a semi-casual sport coat, turtleneck shirt, slacks and shoes complimenting the long-sleeved blue cheongsam the Sorceress had worn.
"I knew it!" Brad exclaimed.
"We all knew it, Brad," Sonya scolded.
Dismissing the hologram, the Sorceress said, "I don't understand all the fuss. We had a dinner date arranged before we left on the mission to the penal planet. Adrian was a perfect gentleman and we had a nice quiet time."
"Yeah, but what happened afterwards?" Brad pressed.
"We returned to the hotel."
Brad and Jeromy looked as if they were about to have a state secret bestowed upon them.
"We returned to our separate rooms," Sorceress elaborated.
Jeromy's face fell. "No nightcap?"
Smiling evilly, Sorceress answered, "No."
Brad opened his mouth to protest, but Sonya cut him off. "Forget it, Brad. She vill not give you the answer you want. I am just happy she is having a life outside of this place."
Deflated, the men decided it was time for dinner. Sorceress went with them only on the promise they let the subject of her personal life drop. Growling stomachs forced them to agree. Sonya promised to join them is a little bit, and to save a place for her.
Sonya sat before the station designated for Hawk. She called up her personal email and opened the first one on top, the most recent, received on the twenty-fourth. One day after Adrian's appearance before the subcommittee. Sonya read through the brief message again, though she had it committed to memory by now. The woman was so absorbed in the email and its meaning that she practically jumped out of her skin at the sound of a voice behind her.
"Everything all right, Sonya?" Adrian asked. Jake had gone off to join the others in the commissary, but Adrian lingered when he saw Sonya still at the monitoring station.
"Da," she mumbled. She thought for a moment and added, "Nyet." She waved a hand at the screen and the email it displayed.
Adrian didn't really need to read it to know what it said and where it came from. "Mother Russia calling you home and demanding that you bring Hawk with you," he said. It was a statement rather than a question.
Sonya nodded. "The Premier does not believe your sincerity."
Adrian looked at the received date. "I doubt he's has time to see the footage from the subcommittee meeting. Either way, his troops will have to go through the rest of us to get to you. General Hammond will tell your countrymen where to stick their demands. He'll be polite about it. I, on the other hand, will be more politically incorrect."
Sonya snickered at that. "That does not stop them from making life difficult for my family. I get at least three messages a month from my mother practically pleading with me to return." She shook her head. "They do not understand. None of them do."
Adrian sighed, wheeled a chair out from another station, spun it around and sat on it backwards, crossing his arms and rested them on the backrest. "Well, remember what the Sorceress' friend said when we found the suits." He was referring to their meeting with Koduk Ungor on the sanctuary moon, although they didn't know her name at the time; the Sorceress had supplied that later. "She warned us there was no going back once we accepted responsibility for the Guardians. What sacrifices we must make because of that choosing will be an ongoing thing. This deal with pressuring you and your family are one of those. You're not alone in this; we're all here for you." If Adrian isn't considering plans for getting Sonya's family, I'll eat my hat.
"Da, I know. It still hurts to think that narrow-minded men can be so stupid and selfish in light of all the evidence presented to them." Sonya sighed with the same weariness Adrian sometimes felt. "They only see what Hawk and her technology can do for Mother Russia. Not what it can do for the whole planet. The galaxy, even. Tis not right."
"We'll make it right," Adrian promised. "Now, let's go get some food. Sitting here lamenting about things you can't do anything about is bad for the digestion. I heard the commissary is serving a pretty good veal Parmesan and I don't want to miss it." He stood up and held out a hand to her. "You're not alone in this, so let's go eat and be merry. I'm sure your family wouldn't want you sitting around moping."
"You got that right," Hawk's voice issued from Sonya's console. "Being connected to her thoughts is depressing me. Go. Eat and be merry. Lighten up. Think about all the Horde troopers we'll get to flatten on our next mission. That always helps me sleep at night."
Sonya laughed despite trying hard no to. "Since when do AIs sleep?"
"Well, it's the thought that counts. I suppose when we shut down it's as close to sleeping as we get."
Adrian said, "You have two options. Join me in the commissary with the others or sit here and listen to Hawk psychoanalyze you. Since the Val-kyre gave them a way to talk to all of us instead of just each other and their respective operators, imagine being analyzed by all six of them." With the stations tied in to a specific Guardian, that would get real ugly real quick.
Sonya turned a glare on Hawk, who stood second from the far end. "Don't say it, Sonya," the AI advised. "Yes, we will."
That made up her mind for her. Sonya took Adrian's proffered hand and stood up. She closed out the email system and shut the monitor down before leaving the hangar with Adrian in search of food.
There would be time enough to worry about the stupidity of the World Government later. While member countries might rattle their sabers at the monopoly of the technology in Area 51, none of them would be eager to experience Adrian's promised bloodbath that would ensue if they tried to take the battlesuits by force.
At least, not right now.
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