Relevant Notes Will Be At The End Of The Chapter

-000-

Five months have passed since the Relay 314 Incident, sparking what is quickly developing into a galactic scale crisis.

In Human space, an uneasy alliance was formed between the Solar Sphere Congress and the armed Secessionist organization known as Golden Beacon. Like across all human history, the looming specter of a mutual foe has once again forced bitter enemies to band together.

In the wider galactic community, things are fracturing at the seams. Lines are drawn as the division between military hardliners, and those seeking diplomatic solutions, deepen. An air of distrust hangs over the Citadel Coalition as both sides scheme to stop the other from getting their way.

The year is UC 0379.

The future of the galaxy hangs in the balance.

History's course will be decided in the world called Shanxi...

For better...

Or for worse.

-000-

Mobile Suit/Mass Effect

Episode 7

My Steed is Vicious

-000-

A lot had been done to prepare for the upcoming expedition through Relay 314. From equipment upgrades, doctrinal changes, and new training, nobody could say that the Old Breed weren't doing everything they could to get the job done right.

Larian sat in his cockpit, eyes closed, fingers resting on the control sticks. The machine he piloted hummed as it idled in place. He let the vibrations of the machine sooth him, connect with him, synchronize with him. His taloned fingers brushed upon the surface of the machine's controls as he burned the positions of each button, each switch, each dial to the back of his mind. In the heat of battle, he couldn't afford to spare a glance at his control sticks. Knowledge of what each button did had to be second nature, because losing track of them could mean the difference between life or death.

Then he heard it. A loud metal clank resounded around his machine, like something had clamped onto it.

"So it's time." The Turian pilot said to himself.

He flipped on several switches, swapping his machine from idle to active mode. Then, he activated the machine's sensor suite. The RADAR screen activated on the dashboard in front of him, as well as the laser rangefinder. Finally, he flipped on his machine's main camera. The panoramic screen surrounding his field of vision came to life, giving him a good look at all the other machines currently in the heavy transport's bay.

Mobile Weapons Systems. MoWS as the troops called them. That's what he and the two other test pilots in this transport were... well, testing.

They weren't the most elegant looking machines. With harsh angles and flat surfaces, the MoWS looks every bit like a project that was rushed from the conceptualization phase, to prototyping. The torso was a polygonal shape, meant to deflect shots that the kinetic barriers couldn't stop. The head on top of it was vaguley Turian shaped, with six backwards pointing antennae meant for communications - especially important given the sensors hampering radiation that the aliens used so liberally. Four wide angle cameras provided a large field of vision for the pilot, while a larger main camera with powerful zoom functions sat in the middle of the lens array. The reverse jointed legs, lanky arms, and waist section were adapted from a heavy robot model produced by Tauvohr, scaled up to meet requirements. It truly was an aesthetically displeasing machine... but if what he went through in the simulators carried over to real trials, then it didn't really matter how ugly MoWS were. It got the job done, and that's exactly what it needed to do.

He took control of the machine's right arm and grabbed onto the Autocannon held on the weapon rack. It was based on the high caliber main cannon of the Equitae Hover Tank used by the Army and SNLF, but now mounted on a chassis that made it possible to use it like a rifle. It had both a digital fire control system and a mechanical trigger. The fire control system linked to the MoWS through both a wireless system, as well as a backup plug on the machine's palm. This was when the Autocannon was most accurate, since the weapon's optical sights were linked to the MoWS' sensor suite. The backup trigger system was less so, since it had to be manually aimed and was fired by pulling the physical trigger.

The second member of Larian's team sat directly to his front. He too went to secure his weapon. It was a converted artillery piece, modified to become a MoWS use sniper rifle. Its massive size and hideous recoil meant that a bipod had to be fabricated for it. It shared the Autocannon's digital fire control system and redundant mechanical trigger, though calibrated for better long range targeting capabilities.

The third and final member of the team was armed with what test pilots were calling a Rotary Cannon. After all, it was basically three high caliber cannons mounted on a rotating assembly. Functionally, it was like a supersized general purpose machine gun. The Rotary Cannon had both a bipod for emplaced firing, and an overhand grip for whenever the pilot needed to 'fire from the hip', so to speak.

With the Autocannon secured, he grabbed the large shield with his MoWS' left arm. It wasn't just a slab of armor, but also came with kinetic barriers. The machine itself may have came equipped with barriers of its own, but the additional protection afforded by the shield was something Larian didn't mind.

"This is Aurek 1, all systems showing red. Ready for combat trials." Lavian reported.

"Aurek 2, same here."

"Aurek 3, waiting for drop."

His wingmen were ready too. Larian took a deep breath, then tightened his grip on to the control sticks.

"Confirmed, Aurek team." The test handler said. "Your objective is to find and destroy Barakh Team before they can destroy you. Last team standing wins."

Months of training in the simulator had come down to this. Metal clamps held Aurek Team's MoWS units up as the floor beneath them opened, revealing Menae's surface whizzing past the transport at rapid pace. Larian made final checks on his machine as the transport began slowing down. The inertia of the heavy craft's deceleration was felt even inside the MoWS, as it lacked the advanced inertial dampeners that were present in an aircraft's cockpit.

A strange omission, considering the cockpit was lifted almost directly from the Vf-109 Long Talon used extensively by the Turian Navy as their mainline interceptor.

Lack of inertial dampeners aside, the cockpit module was everything that Larian expected from something made by Caminus Aeronautics. It was impressive how quickly the engineers at Caminus was able modify the Long Talon's cockpit to control what was ostensibly a large robot body. It was a true achievement in engineering.

"Alright, Aurek team, listen up." A different voice from the test handler spoke up. "This is Commander Herac Magarius, I'll be your commanding officer and liaison for this mission. No theatrics, no daredevil stunts. We do this by the book. Am I understood?"

Larian wasn't sure why he was surprised that Magarius was getting involved directly in this trial. The Commander had shown he was perfectly willing to get hands on and sort problems out on his own, ever since the Military Council put him in charge a few months ago. That's not to say he was the kind of superior that micromanages his subordinates. The Turian was willing to let his subordinates make the decisions and do their intended jobs. Magarius simply stepped in to give the team that extra bit of push needed to get them back on track.

"Loud and clear." Larian answered, speaking on behalf of his team.

"All participants on stand by." The trial handler then announced. "Initializing Project Arma Gigas Combat Trial 01."

The transport had come to a stand still over relatively flat ground. This was their stop.

"Lieutenant Larian Vienas, Arma Gigas Unit 1, fix release!" The lieutenant announced.

The metal clamps on Larian's Arma Gigas unlocked, dropping 17 meter tall machine down to the surface. Multiple thrusters on the machine roared to life, slowing its descent as ground rapidly approached. The MoWS' reverse jointed legs compressed as it touched down, absorbing the worst of the drop. Then, once it had settled down, grav sleds mounted on the Arma Gigas' feet activated, letting it hover slightly above the ground. With Unit 2 and 3 joining Larian on the ground, Aurek team fired their rear thrusters together, gaining speed and making their way towards the mock town that was at the center of this particular arena.

The travel from the dropzone to the mock town was surprisingly quick. The Arma Gigas was a fast machine despite its size and bulk. Menae's barren surface whizzed past Aurek team, with the muffled rumblings barely heard inside the cockpit.

Larian scanned the horizon, moving the Arma Gigas' head from left to right. No contacts so far. With nobody out there, the Lieutenant readjusted his grip on his control stick, trying to find a more comfortable posture for his hands. As he shifted his seating slightly, he glanced down to the cockpit's control panel, which is when he noticed a problem.

"Aurek 3, you're lagging behind." Larian called.

True to his words, the third member of the Lieutenant's team had started falling behind the rest.

"I'm trying, sir!" Aurek 3 replied, his frustration clearly heard even through comms. "But my thrusters are fluttering. Might be generator problems."

The Lieutenant cursed his luck under his breath. Of course, now of all times would a construction flaw rear its ugly head up.

"Aurek 3, I advise swapping weapons with Aurek 2." Magarius then called in through comms. "You and your machine gun won't do well in close quarters with fluttering thrusters. An emplaced sniper wouldn't need the speed."

The advice was sound, and without any protests, Larian's teammates swapped their weapons.

Aurek team closed in on the mock town at high speeds, slowing down only once they took the on-ramp for the city's inner-highway, and couldn't safely maneuver without crashing. Calling the arena a mock town was perhaps understating it. The Menae Proving Grounds, was by all accounts the spitting image of a moderate sized Turian colonial city. Empty and devoid of life -of course- but it was still designed and built as if it were meant to support several thousand residents.

Larian and his wingmen continued to cruise up the inner city highway, skimming across the road as the highway raised itself up above the regular roads. The mock town was used as a simulated battlefield, but it looked every bit like a devastated warzone. The Turians may be using dummy rounds and training explosives, but even the reduced yield of those weapons added up over time. Ruined skyscrapers and apartment complexes scattered the area, with the odd collapsed building or two breaking up the skyline. Some parts of the sewage network have even collapsed, caused by a combination of neglect and repeated abuse during training sessions. Some of the mock town's battle damage would be repaired or cleaned up if it would disrupt future training... but for the most part, the Turians in charge of the proving grounds left the dead city as it were.

Minutes passed quickly as Aurek team sped through. They were approaching the city center now, but still no sign of Barakh team. Larian kept leading his team down the highway. The enemy was close. He could feel it, like a tingling sensation in fringes. It was always like this when he was in battle piloting a tank. He'd feel something akin to a jolt, subtly guiding him like a sixth sense. His seniors called it battlesense, which apparently was something that only the most talented soldiers could have. It was mostly superstition, a way to explain battlefield occurrences otherwise unexplainable. Larian wasn't sure if he had unlocked this battlesense... but he could definitely feel something...

And then it happened.

Barakh team showed up, riding down a separate highway track running parallel to the one Aurek was on.

"Contact!" Larian shouted out, even before the enemy was properly tagged by the sensors.

The Lieutenant raised his Autocannon, pointed it at the enemy's general direction, then fired a training round.

-000-

"Oh my God we're actually heeere!" Rosen all but squealed out as she pressed her face against the portside observation deck's viewport.

She was dressed in a simple red hoodie and long black jeans. One glance wouldn't tell you she was a talented pilot with a mean streak. In fact, you'd be hard pressed to tell any member of Golden Beacon was... well... a member. As we found out shortly after the agreement was signed, Golden Beacon weren't really into uniforms, normal suits aside. The only thing that Rosen wore which told you she was a pilot, was a yellow arm band on her left arm with Golden Beacon and role markings stitched on it.

Specialist Rosen Spring was her official designation... something apparently only formalized after the agreement. Before the ceasefire, Golden Beacon was a very loose organization, with a less than conventional structure and hierarchy. They apparently operated on a strange mix of meritocracy and seniority. Frankly, how they functioned simply flew over my head. It might as well have been as alien as the aliens we were banding together to face off against.

Visibility returned to normal as Risima broke through the thick cloud covering much of Shanxi's equatorial territories. It was typical of the current season, that the central sections of the planet would be cloaked in harsh and thick whether. As it happens, we made planetfall just as a tropical was about to sweep through the area. Sunlight barely made it through the storm as we descended to our destination, which coincidentally was still illuminated by a few gaps in the clouds.

Atlas Point. A giant seaborne military base, research center, as well as arms warehouse. A city in of itself, one might say. It's one out of many facilities of similar purpose scattered throughout the Solar Sphere, meant to house and store advanced technologies since vaulted at the end of the Secessionist Crisis. It wasn't far off to say that these vaults were home to some of the most dangerous weapons ever produced by mankind. Thankfully, the one in Shanxi didn't house anything so apocalyptic... at least none to my knowledge.

Risima gently splashed down on the waters close to Atlas Point, after which her Mass Effect core was powered down. The vast majority of Space Force vessels were designed to be buoyant, in case ground facilities were at capacity. Today was one of those days as Atlas Point's docks were currently at capacity servicing the Terrestrial Force's naval vessels. Upgrades, retrofits, and other such works were being carried out, and that took precedent over what ultimately boils down to a cargo transfer between the vault and Risima.

Regardless of how... mundane what we were doing boiled down to, that didn't do much to stifle Rosen's excitement for this visit.

She was practically bouncing on the spot, like a kid waiting to run into a candy store. I almost envy that childlike wonder she had on her.

"Calm down, Rosen." I told her, finding a smile tug at my lips. Her joy truly was infectious. "We're not even picking up anything fancy."

"So what if it's nothing fancy? It's still Atlas Point! A vault! I always dreamed to get a chance to peek at what's inside!" She said in return, still enraptured by the floating facility that Risima was steaming towards, not even bothering to look back at me.

I shook my head and laughed lightly.

"You know, Atlas doesn't really house anything fancy, not like the vaults in Mars or Arcturus." I said, shrugging. "I mean, I guess it's still pretty neat gear, bu-"

"Pretty neat?!" Rosen suddenly whirled around, her face seeming insulted at my choice of words. "Some of the things in Atlas are like... a gearhead's dream come true! Even the not-secret stuff are amazing! Like beam shields! Do you know how amazing beam shields are?!"

I held my hands up in mock surrender as the young pilot continued her rant. She went on and on about all the amazing feats and achievements of pilots and mobile suits she read or watched about, be it from the One Year War or the Secessionist Crisis. Her rant turned into a bit of a blur and I lost track of how long she'd been going until Rosen was interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by it sliding open. Verns had came in looking for the two of us.

"Specialist Spring, Lieutenant Kreusgluck, the heavy lifters will be here shortly. We should prepare our machines for transit." He said, in an increasingly all too common overly formal tone of voice.

He was always like this when Rosen was around. I wasn't quite sure how to feel about it. On one hand, I understand the desire to drill some discipline into the young pilot. Red 3 took serious injury during the battle against Brother Lionhardt's forces and is now stuck on medical leave, creating a vacancy in Risima's pilot roster. The exact details currently elude me, but Father Oswin agreed to loan Rosen to us as a show of good faith and Bullow -who as of the moment was still acting captain of the Risima- accepted.

On the other hand... It didn't feel right being on the receiving end of that cold, professional façade Verns had adopted. I spent years cracking through that man's shell, but now it was like I was back to square one whenever Rosen was around! Having Verns seemingly close himself again, while Rosen was slowly opening up to me... well, calling frustrating was a bit of an understatement.

"Aye aye, Lieutenant!" Rosen sprang into a salute, a massive smile still plastered on her face. She was certainly excited to get to Atlas.

Whatever Verns' reaction was to the young pilot's antics, was hard to tell. He was stiff and his face held to a neutral expression. It was impressive how straight of a line his lips were, curling into neither a frown, nor a smile. Whatever emotions could be betrayed by his eyes were hidden by the reflective goggles he wore. It really was like my first few years working with him, all over again.

Regardless of all that, the three of us made our way down from the observation deck to Risima's hangar. The mobile suit technicians were hard at work preparing our machines so that they would be ready by the time the heavy lifters from Atlas arrived. A handful of Golden Beacon technicians were also present, working on Rosen's Hroeger. Oswin evidently didn't trust CSF technicians enough to work on the jewel of his mobile suit force. Whether it was because he didn't think we were capable of working on it well, or if he was worried we'd sabotage or try to learn it's secrets... well, it didn't really matter.

I went to my Gunstrike and worked with Derrick to bring it out to the launch deck. It was simple enough to do, a task completed in a few short minutes. Opening the cockpit hit me with the smell of sea water. I took a deep breath and indulged myself. It'd been a while since I came Shanxi and simply rested. Ever since first contact happened all those months ago, it had been non-stop preparations for a potential invasion. Tensions and fears were running high, getting everyone strung up. I thought that as time passed we'd eventually wind down. The novelty of our predicament would wear off eventually, and we'd face it like any other threat we faced before... but that wasn't what happened at all. Every day that passed simply made the anxiety worse. With every moment that passed, more and more opportunities came to ask questions, to wonder and to think about the full scope of what was going on. The lack of answers left too much room for imagination and speculation... imagination and speculation that was slowly feeding into the fears and anxiety of the population.

The smell of the sea, the sun in my face, the gentle rocking of the Risima as steamed towards Atlas Point, the breeze brushing against my face... peace and quiet was something I had almost forgotten about. I found the calm quite intoxicating.

I sat there, at the edge of my cockpit, eyes closed, taking in all the sensations that I could. Who knows when the next opportunity to... simply enjoy myself life this, would come. I wasn't sure how long I stayed that way, entranced by this peace that felt so fragile. It felt like it went on forever.

Unfortunately, I was yanked back to reality by the distant and dull rotor beats of an approaching engine. It was rhythmic in pace, sound like a drum muffled behind many layers of walls. Eyes open, I saw that it was the heavy lifters Verns said was coming from Atlas Point.

The heavy lifters rendezvoused with the Risima in short order, the sounds of their massive quad rotors becoming louder and louder as it closed in. The technicians from Atlas Point came in on a separate pair of air transports, one for each of the cruiser's launch decks. They made quick work of securing the mobile suits for transportation, attaching wires and cables to each machine in a timely manner. Soon enough, the heavy lifters took to the skies once more, taking with them the six mobile suits the Risima carried.

Us pilots followed a little while later on our own transport. The entire ride over, Rosen was once again a ball of excitement, rocking back and forth on her seat, pressing her face against the viewport to watch Atlas Point come closer. It really was an endearing sight, but one that was soured when I remembered why she was with us in the first place.

She was a soldier.

Those seemingly innocent eyes have probably seen just as much death and destruction as I have.

Our transport arrived after a few more minutes of flight. I had to physically hold Rosen back when the ramp opened, lest she run out ahead of us and cause a scene. It was good I did so too, because we had a welcoming committee greet us, and the the director of Atlas Point was the head director of Atlas Point herself. It was easy to tell, really. She was the only one wearing a fancy business suit, while the rest of the welcoming committee were either armed guards or engineers. She also carried herself differently, exuding an air of intellectualism rather than military discipline. Finally, she was rather up there with her age... maybe in her mid 40s or 50s. Given her age and appearance, I assumed she held some sort of important position here.

"Welcome, pilots. I'm Director Lena Eilling, head of this facility." She greeted us, confirming my suspicions. Her voice was welcoming and gentle. Not exactly the kind of person I expected to be in charge of what might possibly the single most secure location in the entire Shanxi Region. "We'll be working on your machines shortly and call on you when needed. In the meanwhile, you are authorized to visit all Class B areas of this facility. Will there be anything else?"

Rather predictably, Rosen shot her hand up and began asking questions.

"Is it true that Atlas Point has the largest and most advanxed arsenal in all of Shanxi?" The young pilot asked.

Rosen and I were the last to leave the transport, and considering that we were... not as tall as the other pilots, the director hadn't seen us until the little procession parted in the middle. Director Eilling furrowed her brows when she saw Rosen, no doubt finding the presence of a teenager in the most secure military facility on the planet strange. She leaned towards her aide and whispered something, probably a question regarding why the young pilot was here. Said aide pulled out a tablet computer and seemed to furiously press and swipe at the screen, before settling down and showing the tablet to the director.

"You're Specialist Spring, is it?" Eilling asked. "You're the Golden Beacon pilot assigned to the Risima?"

"Yep, that's me!" She answered enthusiastically.

"I... see..." The director hesitated as she looked back and forth between the tablet and Rosen.

It would seen somebody had failed to brief her in advance as to... Rosen's nature.

In any case, the aging woman recomposed herself and spoke to Rosen.

"Well... to answer your question. Yes, Atlas Point is entrusted by the Congressional Armed Forces to store and maintain its most advanced equipment." She explained. "Equipment and machinery classified as too powerful or dangerous have since been vaulted her, as per the De-escalation Act of UC 0353."

"Can I see them?" Was Rosen's next question, delivered with the energy which I had come to expect from her. This question once again took the director by surprise, as the greying lady seemingly didn't know how to reply.

"I have the clearance... I think?" The young pilot continued, now starting to stumble on her words. "I mean... I have the pilot's clearance so I should cleared to see it, right? I mean, pilots should be allowed to see the gear they're going to use, right?"

I winced and held the urge to roll me eyes. I'm not sure Rosen thought this through clearly. Fact is that up until half a year ago, she was an enemy. Even if the situation was different now, tension and distrust still lingered. A Golden Beacon pilot suddenly asking to check out the Atlas Vault isn't going to be interpreted very well, regardless of circumstances.

"Well..." Eilling started her carefully worded response. "The vaults are restricted to everyone except maintenance staff and armorers."

Rosen deflated at that, her energy seemingly lost because of that answer.

"However, since this must be your first time in Atlas Point, you mustn't be familiar with the facility." The director continued, glancing at the watch on her left wrist. "I believe I can make the time to give you a personal, guided tour... that is, if you're willing."

Energy returned to the young pilot at that prospect and she quickly agreed. She bounded over to Director Eilling's side as the older woman began talking about the history of this place. The rest of us were dismissed and left to our own devices.

Us pilots began to disperse, but then I saw Verns briskly walking towards the Atlas internal trams. Not knowing what else to do here, I invited myself to tag along with him.

"Verns, wait up!" I called to him. His long legged strides meant he could easily outpace me with little effort. I only caught up with him after a short run. "You're not gonna tag along Rosen's tour? She is Red 3 now, you know?"

He was more relaxed now, not stiff like he usually was when the young pilot was around. It was nice for things to be back to normal, somewhat.

"Much as I'd like to accompany her..." He started, though I could tell he wasn't exactly truthful in that first sentiment. "I've already scheduled a meeting with my sister and her job doesn't exactly afford her a lot of free time."

We boarded one of the trams that took us further into Atlas Point. It wasn't crowded in the tram, mostly just engineers and staff on break or the few Congressional Navy sailors whose ships just docked with the facility. As we settled in to our seats, I turned to Verns, as something that he said didn't add up.

"I thought your sister ran a flower boutique in Port Tsingtao." I pressed him. "What's she doing here?"

Verns looked at me with a blank expression at first, as if not understanding why I'd even ask him this question. Shortly after, something clicked in him and he finally explained.

"Oh, no. That's one of my other sisters, Noir." He told me. "We're meeting up with Saffira. She's with the Congressional Intelligence Service, assigned to the Atlas Point office."

Noir? Saffira? It just occurred to me that I don't actually know his sister's name... or well, names, as it's turning out. It was also the first time I'm hearing that Verns had more than one sister... maybe more than two, based on how he spoke.

"You said one of your other sisters. Just how sisters do you have?"

"Four." Verns casually answered. "Plus three brothers."

My mind stuttered when I heard his answer, unable to process what he just said.

"F-four..." I tried to count with my hands as my brain failed me. "Plus..."

I kept thinking about it, occasionally glancing at Verns. He seemed to be taking my confusion with amusement.

"You're lying aren't you?!" I accused, jabbing a finger at him. This only seemed to cause him to laugh. "H-hey! Quit laughing!"

He only laughed harder.

-000-

Magarius could hear Larian panting, hard. As the last member of Aurek team left standing, he was in for a tough fight. The commander sat in front of his terminal, tapping his taloned finger on the table as the mock battle continued.

It was two on one, now. Aurek 2 was actually the first to go down, having been caught in a bad spot and unable to escape. His Arma Gigas was attacked from two sides, accumulating enough simulated damage that the onboard VI automatically ejected the cockpit.

Good to know that feature worked, at least.

Aurek 3 was next to go down, but not before scoring a good kill with the Sniper Cannon. He shot one of the MoWS attacking Aurek 2, disabling it and triggering its ejector system. Unfortunately that shot gave away his position. Given his fluttering thruster output, it wasn't long until Barakh team was able to pin him down and eliminate him. Larian had arrived just in time to watch Aurek 2 eject, unable to change the course of battle.

Now it was a fight for survival.

Magarius watched with baited breath as Larian fled up one of the city's highways once more, with Barakh 3 hot on his heels and Barakh 1 finding an alternate route to try and cut him off. His pursuer fired the odd shot every now and again, sending training rounds towards Larian. Impressively enough, while many shots came close none would land true. The Lieutenant seemed to always be able to keep track of the enemy, perhaps assisted by the onboard VI. He would always be able to dodge at the last second, or serve out of the way to make a shot miss. Larian's skills were impressive, but Magarius couldn't help but think it was wasted as a test pilot.

The commander was ripped out of his thoughts when Barakh 1 leapt from one of the roads to the rooftops adjacent the inner city highway. He was in a perfect position to intercept Aurek 1 now. The opposing leader raised his Macrogun -a weapon that is basically an SMG for MoWS- and fired a hail of bullets at Larian. Breaking all expectations, the Lieutenant opted not to dodge, but instead raised his shield and charged straight towards Barakh 1. Using speed and surprise, Larian jumped off the highway and rammed his shield right against the opposing leader. The two of them were sent tumbling down to the surface, kicking up a massive cloud of dust and dirt as they hit the ground.

Now that was interesting move. Magarius wasn't sure if it was clever, or reckless. Probably a bit of both. The two team leads were now isolated, but at the same time they've lost their weapons during the fall. This wasn't a situation that the Turians in charge of procurement and capability planning thought of. Two MoWS without their firearms, now in knife fight range. The Arma Gigas hadn't been designed with melee combat in mind. The arms were heavy and lanky to accommodate the unwieldy weapons they used. The legs were on a reverse joint, like a Quarian, to maximize vertical mobility. The torso was relatively small and compact to minimize hit chance. By all accounts, this was going to be an extremely clumsy fight.

Deprived of their guns, both team leads began their melee. Larian was in the advantage as he still held his shield, while Barakh 1 had lost his in the fall. The Aurek leader used said shield to block a clumsy hook from his counterpart, before counter-attacking with an equally clumsy hook of his own. Barakh 1 raised his machine's left arm, blocking Larian's right arm hook, but was unprepared for the powerful shield bash that quickly followed. Magarius saw that Aurek 1 was about to follow through with another vicious right arm hook, but abruptly stopped and boosted backwards, narrowly dodging several shots coming from Barakh 3.

Larian raised his shield, then charged at Barakh 1 before he could fully recover once more. Magarius noticed that the Lieutenant was keeping himself close to the opposing lead, using him as a Turian shield of sorts. It seems that Aurek team's lead believed that Barakh 3 wouldn't dare shoot if it risked hitting his own leader... and it seems that Larian was right. As the melee continued between the team leaders, Barakh 3 kept repositioning, trying to get a good angle for a shot. Every single time Barakh 3 relocated, Larian was somehow one step ahead as he changed positions to once again keep the opposing leader between him and the enemy subordinate. It was a brilliant display of battle awareness, which once again only reinforced to Magarius that Larian's talents were being wasted as a test pilot. Eventually, Barakh 3 got frustrated enough that he tried to close in on the melee.

That was a mistake.

As Barakh 3 tried to attack Larian from behind, the sole survivor of Aurek team suddenly boosted to the left, the impact of ramming into a nearby building softened by his shield. What that ended up causing was both remaining Barakh units running into each other, throwing them off balance. Now, Larian struck. He attacked Barakh 3 with a vicious shove, causing the off balanced machine to trip over and fall on its team leader. With both of his enemies down for the moment, Larian quickly went for the Macrogun which Barakh 1 had dropped during the fall, then turned to them just as they were about to get back up. An unrelenting hail of lead followed, swiftly neutralizing the remainders of Barakh team.

The mock battle had finally ended and Magarius finally let go of the breath he was unknowingly holding.

"Good job, Lieutenant." Magarius congratulated Larian. "You've provided a lot of data for the engineers to work with. Go get yourself some rest."

The commander took off his headset then got off his seat. He turned to the engineers and data crunchers currently poring over everything they had collected. They seemed to be exhausted, which didn't surprise Magarius in the slightest. Admiral Arterius had been running the crew ragged for the past few months, all in the name of getting the Arma Gigas ready for deployment in time for the expedition's start.

"So, what have we learned?" The commander now asked the Salarians huddled together around the data readouts.

One Salarian, who's skin had lost its typical shine and sheen due to prolonged stress and exhaustion, turned to Magarius to answer.

"It will take time to process." The Salarian sighed out. "But from the initial results? We're going to have to make some... adjustments to accommodate melee combat, refine the power system to make it more reliable... Otherwise, the Arma Gigas is meeting most of the requirements set by the Procurement Department."

Groans and grumbles were heard from the crowd of engineers, but nothing more. They were committed to the project but frustrated at the need to make revisions on their designs. Magarius understood this. Their dedication was not in question. It was the rate and stress of work that was getting to them.

"I understand." Magarius nodded to the crew. "That's very good. Job well done, everyone. I want a full report on my desk as soon as you're able... after that, I want you all to take a day off. You lot have earned it with how hard you've been working."

The commander smiled when he saw the crew's faces light up at the prospect of getting some actual rest.

"But.. what about the Admi-" One of the crew spoke before Magarius cut him off.

"I'll deal with the Admiral." He said quickly. "Just get me the report so that I can take it to him and explain why you deserve that day off."

It'd been a while since the crew had been as motivated as this. Granted, they were motivated because Magarius was promising them a day off after months of hard work and crunching, but it was still motivation.

As the crew went back to their posts to write up their reports, Magarius sunk back on the chair he sat on while he observed the mock battle. He then sighed deeply as the exhaustion was slowly catching up to him too.

Preparations for the expedition had been proceeding at a rapid pace, despite the Reformers and the Citadel Council doing what they can to stop the whole thing. Millions of soldiers, marines, and sailors have been called up for the effort over the past few months. Hundreds of combat and support ships have also been retrofitted with upgrades meant to improve their odds against the 314 Contacts. The final piece of the puzzle then was the Arma Gigas. Arterius wanted enough of them to make a difference... but that would take time. Time that Arterius and Lacinius was refusing to give the engineers at Tauvohr.

"There's no way we're going to have enough of these for the invasion." Magarius quietly said to himself. "Lacinius you idiot, you're going to get us all killed."

-000-

Verns and I arrived in one of Atlas Point's multiple recreation centers. This one in particular had an on-base MacDaniel's that was open for a full Shanxi day, for every day of the week. That's 27 hours a day, 7 days a week, all year long. The diner chain had come a long way since the first one opened in Amman City, Luna. That was way back during the Gryps War, almost two centuries at this point.

It wasn't hard to find Vern's sister once we entered the diner. The family resemblance was the dead giveaway, between the long blonde hair, impressive height, and most importantly the prescription protective glasses she wore. It wasn't quite like Verns' goggles as her glasses weren't has heavily tinted, but one could still easily tell they shared a lot in common.

Saffira was seated on one of the corner couches, and we took the seat across her.

"Hey, Saff." Verns greeted, his voice unusually warm and relaxed. "Been a while."

Saffira smiled and returned the greeting.

"Hey there lil' bro." She said, before glancing at me, back at Verns, then back to me. "Oh my goodness, I didn't realize my brother was bringing a plus one! I'm Saffira, one of his older sisters."

We shook hands as we greeted each other.

"Irena Kreusgluck." I introduced myself. "I work with Verns on the Risima."

I could barely see a mischievous twinkle from behind her tinted glasses.

"Ooh, is that so?" She said, a grin forming on her face. "Why, Verns told me all about you... but he never said you were this cute!"

I could hear Verns groan beside me, while I myself found my cheeks going flush.

"Christ almighty, Saff... could we not?"

Turns out that had been a mistake on Verns' end. Saffira's response was equally as embarrassing.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Verns, I didn't know you already staked your claim on this one!" She said, egging the two of us further. Saffira turned to me as she continued. "Such a sensitive boy, this one. It's a miracle he ever got out of his shell!"

Okay, now I'm starting to understand why Verns got irritated easily with my antics. Saffira was far worse than I ever was. I might owe him an apology after this.

Thankfully the conversation continued without much more of Saffira's antics. She'd occasionally share an embarrassing story of Verns', or ask me to share some stories about Verns of my own - which I was only too happy to provide. We ordered some food and drinks too, since Verns and I hadn't eaten since we made planetfall hours ago. After finishing his food, he decided to get down to brass tacks.

"So, Saff." He said, taking control of the conversation. "You have the files I asked you?"

"Of course I do!" She answered, a smug smile on her face. "I'm nothing if not reliable, don't you know?"

"Right." Was Verns' reply. I could basically feel him rolling his eyes while saying that.

Saffira reached into her purse, pulling out a CIS issue data drive marked 'authorized personnel only'.

"It took a lot of nagging and talking to get you cleared for these." She said, twirling the long storage device between her fingers. "Somebody high up did their best to keep your Acting Captain's service record under lock and key."

Wait... was this about Bullow? She always had been withdrawn from the rest of the crew... and her behavior can come across as odd sometimes. Some things were starting to click in my head. Perhaps she was withdrawn from the crew because she was hiding something? If so, then her initial hesitance to take the initiative on many occasions, as well as her reluctance to take the seat of acting captain, was probably due to whatever was kept classified. Suddenly I felt that enduring Saffira's teasing was worth it, if it meant I could get to the bottom of this.

"How'd you get the clearance?" Verns asked, a single brow raised.

"I argued with my station chief that considering this whole alien situation we have, you folks on the Risima deserve to know about your commanding officer. It took a bit of convincing and arm twisting, but I got her to agree eventually."

Verns and I nodded at that explanation. Yes, I suppose that made sense. My friend leaned over the table to take the drive as Saffira offered it, but she abruptly pulled it back.

"Because I went through all that trouble to clear you for this, I want something in return." She suddenly said, her lighthearted mood turning serious.

I saw Verns ball his fists under the table, but after a time he relented.

"Fine." He eventually said. "What do you want?"

"Oh don't be such a sourpuss about it. It's a simple request." Saffira scolded. "Just promise you'll call dad later today."

Our table fell into an uncomfortable silence after that. I knew from experience and some context clues that Verns didn't have a very good relationship with his father. Of course, I wasn't privy to all the details, only that the Hedder Patriarch didn't want his son to join the Space Force. This was going to be a tough one.

The air around us grew tense as Verns' scowl deepened. His fist -already balled from before- only further tightened into a white knuckled grip. I placed my hand gently over his own, hoping to calm him down. After a bit, his scowl softened and he settled down.

"Alright," Verns bitterly agreed. "I'll go call dad when I have the time."

"Swear it to me first, Verns." Saffira added. "Hedder's honor. Swear it."

He pulled his hand away from mine and placed it on his chest while raising the other.

"Hedder's honor. I'll call dad first chance I get."

Finally Saffira relented and handed over the data drive.

"Good boy." She smiled. "It's going to be a lot to take in, so I suggest saving it for when you get back to your ship."

Verns snatched the drive before scooting off of the couch we sat on. He left a few Duit bills on the table -enough to cover both his and my orders- before making himself scarce. I wanted to apologize to Saffira but she gave me an understanding look. It seems she was somewhat used to this. I scooted myself off the couch too leave and catch up with Verns. As I got up, I felt a hand gently hold on to my wrist. It was Saffira, holding me in place while she got up from her seat. To my slight chagrin, she too stood taller than me. Much taller.

Damn these Hedders and their freak genes.

"Hey, I wasn't kidding earlier when I said Verns was a sensitive guy." She said, her voice dead serious. "Verns doesn't trust easy. He reads too much into people's intentions and can get really mad if you know what buttons to press. It's why growing up, he didn't have a lot of friends outside of us family."

That... made a lot of sense, actually. I knew Verns was very particular about who he called friends. He'd work with you, sure... but that's his job. He does it out of obligation, rather than of his own will. I can count on one hand the amount of people Verns considered 'friend'.

"That being said, Verns trusts you. A lot." Saffira continued. "I haven't seen him put this much trust in someone outside the family this since... gosh, I think since he was in middle school."

"I... see..."

"Yeah... well, I know I'm unloading a lot on you." She said, wrapping up her parting words. "So... please... try not to break his trust. Take care and do right by him, alright?"

I nodded to her. Saffira didn't need to tell me twice. Doing right by Verns was always in the books.

"I will."

-000-

A/N:

Turian MoWS/Mobile Suits: The Turians built their Mobile Suits closer along the lines of an Armored Core, to match with their emphasis on mobile and combined arms warfare. This is important since they'll be working alongside hovertanks, IFVs, and other fast moving armored vehicles.

As for their appearance, I wrote them as a sort of cross between Armored Core 6's BAWS Basho frame and Starfield's Kaiser in mind, but with the reverse jointed legs like the Quarians and a head unit that would look somewhat similar to the Neo Daughtress from Gundam X. They're bulky and oddly proportioned, but can do what they're designed to do reasonably well.

I also originally wanted to go further in depth on the various companies of the Citadel's Military Industrial Complex and how the Turian military were able to corral them into making the MoWS prototype in record time, but decided to scrap it since I didn't quite like how it was turning out. Long story short, it was a lengthy digression where I went into each corporation's contribution to the project in detail. Elanus Risk Concern made the shields and kinetic barriers, Armax Arsenal made the guns, while the Asari owned Athenai Motors provided the grav sled. The only part that didn't get cut entirely was the short bit about Caminus Aeronautics, and even then what made it in was a much shortened version.

Story Length: Remember when I said that this fic was only going to go for 12-16 chapters? Yeah I'm gonna have to renege on that. At this current story pacing I might have to go for 18 to 24 chapters. I may or may not have once again underestimated the amount of effort I'd need to make this a satisfying story. Here I was thinking I'd learned my lesson from writing The Great War and Surviving Pair, turns out I'm making the same mistakes all over again.

The actual war should start in the next 2 or 3 chapters, after which point I shouldn't have to do as much worldbuilding as I am right now. I hope.

Also, on a complete side note. FFnet's traffic tracker has been busted for over a month at this point, and I've no clue how Ao3 tracks views so I've no clue how well this whole thing is doing. Not that it really matters, but it's nice to know how many people pick up and read what I put out.

-000-

THIS WORK IS CROSSPOSTED IN FFNET AND AO3