Chapter 7: Combat Math


Inside a large lecture hall, a small group of men and women diligently poured over training footage and data. Though old, the well maintained room retained its new look and smell. Half the group crowded a large table screen, scribbling notes on their own tablets as they poked around the 3D simulation. The remainder took notes while watching footage on a projector screen.

A dim warm light bathed the room while Ashley yawned into her hand. Sighing at the ceiling, she blew away brown strands of hair from her tired eyes. The late evening walk across the base had been unusually cold, she figured the Norks had brought the icy wind with them. Giving up, she finally powered down her tablet. The video was the shortest recording to date. And yet they had been pausing and rewinding more than usual. Discussions quietly murmured from the lecture chairs. Reaching for a thermos she poured herself a quick drink while making herself scarce.

Nodding her head, Julia quietly thanked Ashley as she poured a cup for her. Utterly checked out, Julia's had notes spanned only a few pages. A calm darkness engulfed the two as they enjoyed a brief respite at the back of the room.

"They've been stuck on a single frame for the past twenty minutes." Julia turned her head towards Ashley.

"This is going to take longer than that hour-long fight." Ashley noted thinking back to an ever more tiring day.

"We'd been done if they'd just listened to me." A voice grumbled while taking a seat next to them in the dark row.

Turning to face the voice, Ashley and Julia saw a young woman with black hair tied into a ponytail. Realizing the mystery voice Julia immediately rolled her eyes in the darkness.

"Sakiko… Getting good scores doesn't make you the authority on everything. I don't know how many times we have to keep going over this. But there are veterans and then there is you. Your time will come, but right now you should spend your time teaching the students and learning from the rest of us. Experience and test scores are not the same." Ashley retorted for the umpteenth time.

If they weren't already friends, Ashley would have long ago formally counseled the young IS instructor. Taking the words in one ear, Sakiko immediately deposited it out the other. She had long gotten over the embarrassment. Opening her mouth to respond as usual, not a single word escaped.

"If that's all she had to do, I wouldn't be here." A stern voice in the dark interjected..

Faint light from the projector screen glinted off a woman's eyes. Her silhouetted body stared intently at Sakiko. Arms folded and legs crossed, the disapproving figure cocked her head at the other two. Slightly embarrassed, Sakiko shot a gaze towards Julia, like a child waiting for her parents to answer. Unfortunately for both, the mystery figure refused to identify herself. Leaving an awkward silence.

"H-How long have you been there?" Julia whispered as to not draw attention.

"Long enough to watch you come in, do nothing, and take your coffee break." Checking her watch she looked back up again. "Or dinner as of now."

Standing up the mystery woman sauntered down a flight of stairs. Sakiko's sharp green eyes caught a glimpse of a manilla folder tucked under her arm. A fair skinned woman with shoulder length red hair coolly descended down the hall. Catching a glimpse of the woman's rank and unit patch, Julia silently cursed. Launching out of her seat she snapped at attention. In mere moments the entire room had matched her in saluting.

The door to the base of the hall swung open. Two young men strolled in, both talking to each other while paying little attention to their surroundings. A sudden and suffocating feeling quickly broke the stride of the better dressed man. Every eye scanned the young man with the eye patch.

"Uh… As you were." He calmly voiced, confused at why everyone was standing at attention.

The man next to him sent a masked but questioning glance towards the red haired woman. Smiling, she shot a quick and stealthy wink back. Taking her side next to him, she gestured towards the chairs. Slowly the older IS instructors filled the front rows, leaving only the newcomers standing tall.

"Good evening everyone, hope you aren't all too tired. I was meaning to have this lecture earlier, but I got caught up in some meetings. I'm sure you all know how much of a pain moving places is." Jean smiled.

His words drew looks of confusion on the faces of the older soldiers. Ashley's eyebrows furrowed in interest and wonder. The two women next to her exchanged a questioning look.

"I'm Field Lieutenant Rockwell from Northern Command. Yes, that Northern Command. I'm an instructor and AC pilot at the Advanced Tactical Warfare Academy up north. You can call me instructor, Rockwell, or Jean. I'm not one for strict formalities." Stepping aside he gestured towards the red haired woman.

"I'm Major Hunnicutt from Northern Command, Twenty Third Tactical Assault Battalion. I'm an Armored Core pilot, and to you I'm nothing but Instructor Hunnicutt."

Illuminated by the front lights, Julia's eyes drifted over a red ribbon tied around the Major's neck. Its vibrant color and patterns smeared in the distance.

"Captain Malcolm. I'm her operator, you can call me Instructor Malcolm." The man next to Hunnicutt quickly spoke, though much softer compared to his pilot.

Malcolm's long and messy dirty blonde hair hovered just above his jacket collar. His clean shaven face was a few shades darker than his pilot's. Like her, a red decorated ribbon wrapped around his neck. Numerous colorful patches adorned the duo's jackets, different squadrons and units, each with their own stylized logo. Both jackets were a near carbon copy of the other. Curiously, Jean's blue jacket remained sparse. A single unique patch adorned his right shoulder. A crosshair laid over a stylized soldier with long snow white hair. One hand behind her back, her free hand pointed a pistol at the viewer. The words Thrive Don't Survive circled the rim.

Stepping back into the limelight, Jean began to speak while his two subordinates went to work preparing a laptop.

"Well, with that out of the way, I think we can finally get into things." Making himself comfortable, he sat casually atop a table.

"We're here today because the IS Corps, your bosses, have noticed some interesting outcomes when your graduates face ACs. Specifically us. Credit where credit is due. Your pilots are competitive against the Mechanized Corps' ACs and have been butchering Normals for a while. But that's not your competition. People like me are." Calm, yet sternly, Jean explained the situation. Various expressions arose and deflated across the IS instructors' faces.

"Take the second chances here, because you won't get them anywhere else. This isn't Earth, pilot kills are a time honored tradition. That's why we've been sent here, to teach you how to kill people like me, Ravens, Lynx or anyone else who happens to be in the cabin of an AC. Our lessons were written with blood, yours don't have to. The base commander has been kind enough to wipe your schedules for the foreseeable future. Hopefully you all use that time as students to learn as much as you can."

All three women in the back row blinked in shock. They knew that the base had AC instructors visiting. They had seen it and heard countless gossip. But the sudden promotion to student gave them serious mental whiplash. For both Ashley and Julia it had been decades since they were on this side of a lecture. An experience not unique in the slightest for most of the room. The nightmares that adults often have about school became a sudden reality. Soft whispers spread like wildfire.

Still seated atop the table, Jean took a sip from a water bottle and sighed with relief. From the looks of things the instructors, turned students had taken things far better than anticipated. Or if they had, he couldn't tell. Both Infinite Stratos and Armored Core pilots were known for their rather large egos. Crossing his knees casually, he broke in once more.

"You know in all honesty, body for body, the lives of your pilots carry far more weight than our own AC pilots." The sudden and striking words raised eyebrows across the room, most of all his own officers.

"The value of the pilots here isn't just measured in compatibility. It's a lifetime of years. It's a societal cost. And it's years again. You can't grow women in hydroponic farms. Believe me I'm sure they've tried." A light smile and laugh escaped from the rows.

"It takes years for women to even become compatible with the IS, if at all. That number gets smaller once you realize the majority of them have rock bottom scores. Even fewer enlist let alone graduate. And that's just your standard IS pilot. But your graduates? They don't just have higher scores, they train harder. They work harder and fight harder. Their deaths don't just cost the IS Corps, it costs all of us. In some ways the women here are irreplaceable."

"Well you don't hear that everyday." Julia leaned in towards Ashley.

Slyly Ashley leaned back, unsure if Jean was the yelling type. If not him, then Major Hunnicutt.

"He called you priceless Julia, see there's really a guy out there for you." She nudged her arm teasingly.

"Too young for my tastes."

"Don't knock it till you try it." An amused Ashley smirked. "He's not entirely wrong though, these new training scenarios always simulate high casualties on our end."

"Well in theory fighting unwinnable training battles should help everyone learn. At least that's the justification. But, I wonder if the pilots aren't adapting fast enough."

"I'd believe that. We do all the post analysis and tell them how to fix things. It wouldn't surprise me if AC pilots are running circles around them. They're probably more flexible up there." Ashley tapped her head.

"Yeah but we aren't first timers, we're supposed to be experienced. Plus the IS is way more flexible than the AC, we're the ones who are supposed to be smarter on our feet." A slightly accented voice interjected.

"Bold words from you." Julia slyly whispered, side eying Sakiko.

The kick from Ashley's foot grabbed Julia's attention as she snapped her eyes to the front of the room. Hunnicutt's sharp gaze stared daggers at the three women, Julia wilted under the oppressive gaze while Jean continued his lecture.

"We'll be out of your hair once I feel confident enough in your ability to deal with pilots like us. All of you will be judged by a series of academic and live fire tests. You pass and fail as a class. We need to see that as an institution you've learned. You have plenty of resources in me, Hunnicut and Malcolm, use us to your fullest. Lastly, I have an open door policy, if you want to talk about Armored Cores, Infinite Stratos', lessons, tactics or whatever. Just drop by. I'm no counselor but I do my best."

"Now that we're done with the formalities, why don't we do some actual learning? It'll be quick, I promise." Hopping off the table Jean made his way towards the chalkboard.

Tapping the chalk against it he dived the black wall into multiple sections. Caught off guard by the abruptness, the newfound students scrambled to take notes.

"There are a lot of Armored Core pilots. But how they pilot is just as diverse as the machines themselves." Using a multitude of colored chalk he drew in each section, frequently alternating colors like an artist.

"Ravens. That rotten lot is about as independent as it gets. Of course they all congregate around Raven's Nest. No one really knows who or where its leader is, and I have no interest in finding out. Based on GA's records, we know that they popped up sometime after the Kojima storms. Raven's are soloists, they don't work in groups all that often and they prefer single seat Armored Cores. High speed, low endurance, they don't have the logistics to sustain a campaign. War is every bit logistics as it's kinetic. Never underestimate them though, their contract system means they're almost alway fighting. Ravens are exceptionally skilled at one on one engagements, but they're more than capable of taking on multiple targets. I'm sure you all know that by now…"

Stepping aside he revealed a radar plot. One that emphasized tactical flexibility, energy management and close quarters capability.

"Next up are Lynx. Corporate controlled, quite literally. They answer to Collared and their parent corporations. Like Ravens, they do solo work and are mainly single seaters. However that's where the similarity ends. It's not strange to find a team of Lynx working together in the field. Unlike Ravens they pack a mean punch. Top of the line parts, weapons, software, support, and just about everything else. The biggest difference is that all their Armored Cores have particle shielding. And worst of all, they have the corporate backing to keep them on the frontline indefinitely. Fighting against one of them is challenging as it is, a team of corporate Lynx is a whole other story. For that you need specialized teams. People like me, Hunnicut and Malcolm."

Pausing he turned to face his class. "I'm serious. They may be arrogant, but they're extremely dangerous in teams." His patched eye only added to his sincerity.

Moving over he revealed their plot. Sharp spikes raced towards technology, customization, sensors, and shielding.

"Next up are UNACs. Unmanned Armored Cores. These freaks creeped up during the Continental War. Some of you may have even fought against one. Aldra claimed they were AI controlled, they made a big show about the Formula Brains during the grand unveiling. Liars." He sneered in disgust.

"In reality Aspina grows specially made Cultivators and bolts the Formula Brain into them. They're not human, not anymore. They're drones… Just about every corporation, colony and nutjob wasteland warlord has an army of these… Loyal to a fault." Jean gritted his teeth.

"Their skills vary a lot. But swarm tactics are their bread and butter, they think and process information better in groups. I don't know why. You'll have to ask a computer scientist." He curtly finished.

The semi autonomous machines of war had a chart that heavily emphasized numbers and network centric warfare. However, a single stat had piqued the interest of the class. The first point on the plot to have been maximized. Endurance.

"Lastly there's us. Colonial and average corporate pilots. We're on the opposite end of the spectrum from Ravens. Teamwork is what sets us apart from the rest. Our smallest unit is a squad of two. We're trained to fight wars, not mercenary work. Unlike everyone else we spend all our time on the frontlines. We also have a decent number of two seater Armored Cores in our ranks." Gliding across the blackboard he leaned next to his chalky diagrams.

Teamwork was the only attribute particularly emphasized on the plot. The rest remained a disappointing scatter.

"Right now you're fighting this." The chalk in Jean's hand smacked against the Raven's plot. Leaving a tiny blue dash on it.

"But in a war you'll be fighting against these." His hand underlined the remaining plots. "You're training for the wrong battle, which is why your pilots get cut to ribbons against our AC squads. War isn't a Formula Front match."

Wrapping up his explanation, Jean finally dismissed his class. Despite their status as veterans, the students found themselves partially interested in what he had to say. If nothing, his calm and approachable demeanor had made him far more palatable than the other two. His insistence that they sleep and eat well only added to that. Amused expressions lit the faces of the older soldiers.

"Do you think I'd get a bonus if I found out where Ravens' Nest is? I could use that money for a downpayment." Sakiko said, breaking a smile and light chuckle out of Ashley and Julia. Reminding them why they kept her so close.

Appearing out of nowhere, a manila folder smacked Sakiko right in the chest. Whipping her head, she met Hunicutt's harsh gaze. Swallowing she stared back.

"Not you. You can meet your friends later."

Exchanging glances both Ashley and Julia nodded at Sakiko before quickly slinking past Hunicutt. Both decided to follow their instructor's orders regarding a hearty meal and good sleep.


One by one, Sakiko watched the room empty. Left alone, she finally took a seat across a relaxed Jean. Studying his features she noticed that he wasn't particularly imposing. If anything she thought of him as calm and gentle. He wasn't nearly as built as the IS pilots she knew. While by no means unfit, his slender figure gave her the impression that even Ashley could take him in a fight. She'd heard that AC pilots trained endurance and G tolerance over strength, but didn't realize to such a level.

"You're Earther through and through. Genetically there's nothing Terran about you." Jean's words ripped Sakiko out of her thoughts.

Taken aback, Sakiko blinked. It took a moment for her to process what he said. It was as if he had thrown ice water on her face.

"I uh…Yeah... My dad's wife is Japanese. But my dad's from Cascadia and I'm-"

"Your dad's genetically from Earth, and so were his parents. I'm not going to pretend that I know much about Earth. To be honest I have a hard time keeping up with things here as it is. His parents moved here to live as Cascadians and by all accounts they were… Unlike them he was born and raised Cascadian, he didn't choose it."

Sakiko stared at the table quietly, her finger nails fidgeted over each other as she patiently waited for the other shoe to drop. Preemptively she felt a surge of shame as he raised up the manilla folder.

"But you were born in Japan, with a remarkably high AFS score, might I add… All that Earther DNA really paid off. Attended some of the most prestigious schools and blew away your competition in almost every aspect. You even got your S ranked IS certification while still in middle school, that alone put you far above most women. A well connected mother who worked on experimental IS frames. A father who loved you and your siblings deeply. Took care of you while others burned out… Or worse. Sakiko everything about you is perfect, quite literally. You're genetically gifted, academically talented, hard working, and born into a family that could have opened any door for you." Leaning in Jean's single eyed gaze pierced Sakiko's defenseless green eyes.

"So why'd you close those doors? Why defect?"

The question lingered in the air as a tense silence slowly outlived its welcome. Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Sakiko remained silent.

"Lieutenant, I'd rather hear it straight from you over some interrogation officer. If I'm going to help you and ISSWA, then I'm going to need you to be truthful. Trust me, this isn't a fun conversation for me either. But it's important. Because I don't for a second believe the official report."

Breaking eye contact Sakiko bit the inside of her cheeks, drawing blood. A collection of thoughts bounced around her head, despite her best efforts she struggled to voice them. Noticing her stiffness he relaxed his demeanor.

"T-The draft. All women in Japan with an S rank are automatically enrolled in the draft… My dad's wife was a defense contractor. As soon as I registered she forced me to be a test pilot. She never gave me a choice."

"High compatibility scores at that age, your mother must have seen some potential. Reality's different though, isn't it. At that level, high performance becomes the standard and failure becomes unacceptable."

His words shocked the young woman. Looking up, she wondered what secrets lay behind the black eye patch. There was an understanding that could only be shared through experience.

"Yeah… I-It was awful. I was burned out by the end of the day, I used to skip out on dinner a lot. The experimental frames were too hard to handle without drugs. Everyday after school, every single damn day. Over and over. If it wasn't calibration tests it was the same exercises again and again! None of the results were ever good enough. Something was always wrong, it was always my fault. Never their stupid designs! I actually looked forward to school and exams." She quickly spoke, finding some catharsis in it.

"For a draft dodger you've certainly chosen an interesting career path. Why turn down every IS Cadet opportunity if you didn't want to serve?" Jean said, tapping the manila folder.

"I don't hate being an IS pilot. But I won't be forced into it... When I came here they let me choose what I wanted to do. I chose this and I'll keep choosing this." Sakiko proclaimed, finding her voice.

"Most fourteen year olds on Earth aren't concerned with the draft, let alone the politics of war."

"On my tenth birthday I had to get fingerprinted, my AFS score qualified me for a draft. I was already thinking about things before I got my IS score… Besides… M-My aunt was a Continental War veteran. She was paralyzed from the waist down and struggled to use one of her arms." Sakiko's fingers aggressively fidgeted amongst each other while her foot silently tap danced against the floor.

"I see. What happened to her?"

"Doctors said that the chemical weapons from the war finally killed her. She had some bad days, but she never regretted enlisting. Actually the opposite. My dad idolized her, I guess I did too… Growing up she'd tell me all about the war, how it was the one place she made a difference." Sakiko finally relaxed as she continued to recall memories of her aunt.

Matching her, Jean relaxed further into his chair. Casually he crossed his legs, dressing down his demeanor and rank.

"Your aunt had a reason to fight."

"She had people worth fighting for."

"And Japan isn't?"

"No! There's nothing of value worth saving. The thought of fighting for them. It's.. It felt so wrong!"

"Your dad?"

"He's Cascadian! And I've offered to move him back, but he won't budge!"

"He loves your mom, plus he can't exactly support her or your little siblings from here."

"I don't give a fuck what his wife wants!" Sakiko blew up, her green eyes widened with unbridled fury. "Sorr-"

"It's okay. Please. Speak freely, you don't have to worry about rank."

"I refuse to live my life for other women. It's mine… That stupid bitch planned everything out. What school, friends, clubs, job and life I'd have. She even planned who I'd marry and how many kids I'd have!" Sakiko exclaimed, her breath heavy and ragged as she relieved intense arguments.

Nodding his head, Jean gave a reassuring smile. Leaning in he allowed Sakiko to use him as a soundboard to rant about her deep seeded hatred of Earth.

"I became a thing to everyone around me. No one asked me what I wanted to do, if I even wanted to be a pilot or enlist. I had a 'greater purpose', she'd always say. Apparently I was 'stuck up' and 'selfish' for being tired all the time. I wasn't a person anymore. Just a block of meat… A grade S block of meat… There was an accident once, they cared more about the damaged frame than the reverse neural feedback." She laughed in pained incredulity.

Her words slashed invisible daggers as Jean intently listened, making small comments to draw out more. Subtly reaffirming her beliefs. All the while her psyche slowly tore itself apart. Every facet of her complex identity slowly grinded against each other. Bone white, her knuckles shivered in pure anger. At the end of it all she sat in silence, utterly vulnerable. He couldn't help but feel sad for the young woman.

"You've been through a lot Sakiko, and I'm glad you've found a place to call home. To live your own life."

"H-Home? But I was-"

"Born in Japan? You don't have to be half Japanese if you don't want to. Being born somewhere doesn't shackle you there permanently. That's an Earther view, but you're not on Earth now are you?" Jean smirked.

"Look, Sakiko, home is somewhere you chose to live. That's how it's always worked here. You're an adult, and you chose Cascadia over Japan, Interior Union, Lidel Becket, or any other corporation. Something drew you here. Something worth believing in. Everyday you make a choice to stay here, to be a part of your community. To serve. That's what makes you Cascadian, through and through. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Thanks." Sakiko quietly let out, still avoiding eye contact.

Nodding Jean masked his grin with a warm smile. While Sakiko had been pouring her heart out, he had honed in on a certain truth. For as much as she hated Japan, she loved Cascadia more. She had no choice but to. A traitor to Earth and a means to an end for Terran corporations, Cascadia was all she had left.

"I can only imagine how awful it must have been to be seen as a tool for others. But you're home safe now. I know Cascadia means a lot to you. And I know you want to serve your colony, which is why I want to give you an opportunity."

Looking up, Sakiko met his single eye'd gaze. A somewhat serious yet reassuring face smiled back.

"In a couple days someone from the IS Special Operations Command is going to meet with you. The Corps is trying to set up something similar to Northern Command's Dynamic Tactical Assault Brigades. DTABs for short. Do you know what those are?"

Sakiko shook her head in response while the man opposite her calmly nodded.

"They're extremely maneuverable brigade sized formations. Well they were… They can catch up to any enemy and engage them on their own terms. Whatever a commander needs, they can do. Anything except defending against an attack, all that speed comes with a cost."

"Outrunning your enemy doesn't work when you're cornered I guess."

"Quick learner." Jean nodded, drawing a smile on the young woman's face. "That's how most of them went out in the war. Slowly. Excruciatingly. One. By. One." He punctuated, leaning in closer with every word.

"Unfortunately for the Corps, there aren't enough skilled IS pilots or frames to fill out a DTAB. The Corps plans to make up the difference with quality… A unit like that is going to face frontline combat… A lot… And they're going to need highly ranked and skilled pilots."

In an instant a pang of fear struck Sakiko. Anxious and scared, she avoided his gaze and stared at the table. Her fingers fidgeted while her heart beat harder than ever. Refusing to settle. Butterflies ran rampant in her stomach, it took all her willpower to not throw up on the spot.

'They need…'

"I uh… I see… It's just you know. My life's been really hectic and things only just started to calm down and I-"

"There's no valor in dying like a rat in a ditch. I like Cascadia, but I'd rather not die for it. And I know you don't either."

A flash of embarrassment struck Sakiko as she cringed. The manila folder that she had seen earlier flowered open to a bookmarked page. Laid plain as day, a series of bolded sentences outlined her intense desire to not see frontline combat. His finger tapped over the hyper specific wording.

"All the training in the world won't overcome a technological gap. The IS is powerful, and I'm sure a pilot like you can give someone like me, or that Raven here, a run for their money."

An anxious half smile flashed on Sakiko's face as a part of her felt validated.

"But war isn't about one on ones in a vacuum. This isn't the Mondo Grosso or the Formula Front. The IS is simultaneously vulnerable and resilient to our weapons. For example, it can't be jammed because it has no radar… Look put simply the IS is missing out on some key technology for war. War on this planet. I have no idea how Earthers are doing things, but we're both kidding ourselves if we don't accept that they're decades ahead of us. Their pilots have better control over the core than us."

As much as she wanted to say something, to defend her honor as a Cascadian IS pilot, Sakiko knew she couldn't. She knew it when she defected, and she knew it now. It was her mother's research that handed her a golden ticket, one that not many were afforded.

"IS units, and I mean the proper cored ones, not the battery powered ones, are too finicky. Presets, Equalizers, and shifting; all of those give the IS impressive flexibility in combat. But not in a war. You can't change an IS' main weapon as easily as an Armored Core's. And battle damage? A twice or thrice shifted IS is downright impossible without specialized teams."

"You know a lot about the IS."

"I have a kid who's obsessed about it." Jean smiled warmly.

A surprised expression tore across her face as she failed to conceal her shock. Ignoring it, Jean stayed on topic. Though he couldn't help but crack the smallest of smiles, amused.

"NorCom has a few ideas about redesigning the IS from the ground up. It needs to be able to fight our wars, not Earth's. The IS can be better, and I know someone like you will take it there. You can make a difference here. And it won't be because of your genetics or some ranking. It'll be because of your hard work. You have ideas and experience worth listening to, and I think people should hear you out."

"I uh… That's a lot to think about. I'm not sure if-"

"I'm just getting ahead of the competition. Like I said, you have a choice. Take some time and think things through. When you figure out what you want to do, come talk to me. My door's always open." He smiled earnestly, dismissing her.

Exchanging salutes, Sakiko made her way to the door. Just before she pushed it open, her instructor spoke one final time.

"Sakiko. Staying in one place is a choice. But eventually people get the message and stop opening their doors to you."

Pausing for a moment she nodded before leaving. Alone in the lecture hall Jean sighed heavily. Reclining as far back as the chair would allow he stared at the ceiling. His mind raced to his little siblings, the entire encounter left him feeling sick. He needed a shower.