Armored Core
Part 1 – Battle Scars
Hold on to my arms
Here come battle scars
It's the final charge
Here come battle scars
The incident would go down in history as "The Battle of Detroit". After almost three years of global tensions brought about by refugees from a dying world, followed by a further seven years of sporadic combat, this was the first true war, even if only in small scale.
The incoming beings were not human, not really. They were capable of holding human values, and even of displaying love for their fellows, but the world they had escaped had been dying for a reason. That love, taken to extremes had led to the extinction of their world's human population, and finally, to their own. Staring down the barrel of oblivion, they had used their world's energies to search for, and ultimately open a pathway to escape.
One of the subsequent effects of their escape had been that the abilities and energies they wielded with impunity were sharply reduced, or wholly removed once they entered ours. Some of the more powerful among them, once able to corrupt or control their world's humans with their mere presence, suddenly found themselves bereft of those abilities. Others were largely unaffected, but still found themselves free from what for them had been an instinctive drive to procreate.
This produced several more follow-on effects. Chief among them was that the creatures; "monsters", in the local mindset, were now a lot more diverse in their personalities, ironically, far closer to the humans who's world they now inhabited. A close second to this was that the humans in the world they now inhabited were far more resistant to the corruptive influences they had once wielded, this due in part to Earth humans lacking a certain organ. In addition, the corruption of their former world's human women, a process once referred to as "monsterization" was now near impossible save for through direct mutation, and infusion of arcane energies, an energy intensive process few of the incoming species were even capable of, much less willing to undertake.
Still, there were some of the self-described mamono incapable of wholly embracing the second chance their escape had offered. While there were numerous isolated incidents where monsters and humans found common ground, common ground which often blossomed into something more, there were also many incidents where the values of their old world and the new collided, with far less pleasant outcomes. Ultimately, however, these incidents culminated in two important discoveries. The first being that the monogendered reproductive constraint the monsters had been operating under in their old world no longer applied, and that with a little help, or in many cases wholly naturally, the monsters were capable of producing male offspring. In a strange twist, most species could actually produce four different types. Male human, male monster, female monster, and to the surprise of all, female human.
This was often seen as a great boon, especially to the more "normal" monster types. Those of the more "arcane" origins, however, were less than thrilled, as since their reproductive rates were already low, this would mean they would drop to even lower levels if they were to reproduce the usual way. On the other hand, most arcane types tended to reproduce through the old corruptive methods as a matter of course, so this simply spurred the impetus for experimentation in this direction on the local human population.
Naturally, this did not go over well.
Things would come to a head in late November of 2041, when investigators uncovered a research facility hidden in one of the more rundown areas of Detroit, Michigan. Up until this point, a state of "Cold War" had existed between the more aggressive monsters, and the world's governments, with the skirmishes, and occasionally pitched battles being handled mostly as isolated incidents, never give the formal title of "War".
The pressures of these incidents had forced specific aspects of human military technology to develop at a rapid pace. Chief among these had been the development of the Combat Exoskeleton. Seen as the only reliable method short of genetic manipulation, and intensive physical training coupled with steroid enhancement, for bringing human physical and martial prowess to a level equal to, and in most instances superior to monster abilities.
But, as in any war, both sides are under pressure to innovate. Where humanity had turned to their mastery of mechanical and electronic systems, the belligerents on the monster's side innovated in methods of concealment, and the production of various mutated creatures to help defend their bases. Fortunately, the creatures used were nonsentient. Most of the time. But as Detroit demonstrated, even among the mamono, there were those who truly deserved the appellation: "Monster".
Excerpt from Paradigm Shift: The Early Years of Mamono-Human Relations, by Roberta Hawkins, Random House, 2063
The droning of transport aircraft always helped Staff Sgt. Cale Rawlins to, if not sleep, at least drift into a meditative state. After almost 5 years in the US Army, he'd reached the rank of Staff Sergeant through a combination of wit, courage, and the sheer fortune (misfortune, to hear some tell it), of being asked (voluntold) to be involved in the development of humanity's response to the mamono "invasion". Invasion was one way to put it, anyway. Some would have preferred to call it as closer to a refugee crisis, except the beings involved weren't fleeing a war-torn region, or natural disaster, but a dying world, done in by their own hubris.
Philosophizing aside, he had to admit the tools his fellowmen had developed were definitely appealing to work with. Every man, no matter how much he may deny it, is still in some part a little boy at heart. And little boys always love giant robots. Maybe they weren't truly "Giant", but it was the thought that counted. Ripped from the pages of comic books and science fiction, now standing as big as life in front of, and to either side of him, the A.T.L.A.S. (Advanced Tactical Land Attack System) Mark VIII Model G was the latest in a long line of humanity's response to the usually physically stronger mamono: The Combat Exoskeleton.
Although in this variant of the MK VIII's case, it was far closer to (was) powered armor. With a distributed ionic battery power net, electropolymer muscles, and advanced chobham/composite protection, these eighth-generation constructs were the latest word in man-portable combat systems. And at 40% larger than a standard model, these Model G units were upgraded to the even more impressive R.I.O.T. (Reactively Intelligent Offensive Technology) variant.
It was both a blessing, and a curse that the 451st S.T.A.R. Heavy Assault Battalion always got the latest toys. Because after an engagement like the one they were headed into, it would mean more after-action reports than usual, plus product evaluation questionnaires, and maybe even an interview with one of the technical liaisons.
At least they got newer transport aircraft. Seriously, in this new bird, a body could actually get some rest, versus the near violent assault on the eardrums even a C-17 inflicted, necessitating the use of earplugs at almost all times. Between staying strapped into his mech, and the new soundproofing of the craft itself, the drop in noise made it possible to sleep somewhat comfortably.
Which was exactly what Cpl. Tomkins was doing across from him. She'd been in AT-7 with him and Cpl. Derringer since the beginning, and was almost notorious for being able to sleep virtually anywhere. Even Cpl. Hayes had commented that the redhead could probably sleep though a tornado.
The drop bay of their AC-280 Jumpmaster drop carrier was occupied by all 5 members of Assault Team 7, and one drop rack's worth of support equipment. Once their transport was over the drop zone, they would be dropped down the rails that currently locked their mechs in place, and out the bottom of the craft, landing with the assistance of their fall arrestor gear outside the area of operation.
Speaking of the operation in question… "LT, you awake?"
"What can I do for you, Sergeant?" came the reply from Lt. Henry Nash, AT-7's commander.
"What do you make of the intel we got before setting out?"
"Well, it's definitely not a direction I expected the monsters to go…"
"How so, sir?"
"It doesn't quite fit with the behavior's we've seen so far. I mean, if most encounters with groups of monsters are more like Crossroads, and single encounters trend towards neutral or positive outcomes, why would even a small group choose to go so counter to that?"
"Not sure, to be honest. I mean, from what the intel weenies were saying, this bunch is mostly arcane types. And Sat intel caught a glimpse of at least one lich, plus several baphomets. You don't think they're planning some kind of mass attack, do you?"
"It's not really in our power to speculate, Sergeant, but since command recalled the initial extraction team, and taking the testimony of that one woman they pulled out into the mix…"
"Yeah, we're probably headed into the thick of it this time."
After initial investigations of the deserted "Chaldean Town" section of Detroit revealed a rash of disappearances over several months, coupled with the emptying of several cemeteries, Army Intelligence had prepared for the worst. After an initial extraction team had penetrated what was later found to be a research outpost, they'd recovered one formerly human woman. According to her testimony, she'd been snatched up after applying to an addiction treatment program. The experiments on her body had altered her physiology to the point that she resembled the mamono known as ghoul. Surprisingly, the experiments had focused on changing only her body. Her fellow victims in that laboratory hadn't been as fortunate, most having their brains either forcibly remodeled, or in one case, removed entirely.
The implications were clear, the monsters responsible were of the arcane variety, and dealt with energies normally beyond human comprehension. Whatever their end goal was, it didn't portend to anything good. This was especially concerning because of the ways in which arcane monster's powers worked. Once mamono with any sort of arcane ability entered the human world, their powers changed in some fundamental ways, specifically in relation to where they drew them from, and how they could affect the world around themselves.
Extensive research into the phenomenon discovered that while all mamono possessed a specific organ that contained a crystalline compound resonating on a 5th dimensional quantum axis, arcane mamono's organs were different. This difference allowed them to tap into the potential energy bound up in the Casimir Effect, and gave them access to energies that could alter their local environment in ways that would require roomfuls of equipment for a human. And the organ's functions varied by species within the "arcane" subtype, which further complicated things.
According to both interviews, and physical research within the arcane mamono subtype, some species were more attuned to the biological fields of living things, even to the point of the ability to reanimate dead tissue. To hear the stories gleaned from interviews with volunteers, some arcane mamono were almost solely composed of this 5th dimensional energy, bound to the sidereal universe by either "anchor points" in specific items, such as swords or armor, or complex quantum lattices that contained their consciousness, and gave them the ability to manifest physical forms when given enough energy.
Interestingly, none of these more exotic types were known to have made the crossing to the human world… Or if they had, they were making a concerted effort to stay out of the public eye.
The sergeant's musings on the topic were cut short as the drop bay buzzer sounded off, and the message from the cockpit came over their mech's comm systems: "Attention, five minutes to drop zone."
As the remaining members of AT-7 roused themselves, Sgt. Rawlins took a moment to settle into the straps of his Mk VIII G, and begin the startup sequence. As he flicked the master power switch from STANDBY to ON, he whispered to his mech. "All right Gloria, time to wake up"
In a stroke of sentimentality, the Mk VIII G maintenance crews had taken to naming the mechs, giving them "G" names, based on their individual temperaments, and their operators. Although comm discipline had the operators use their last names, or callsigns, it wasn't uncommon for them to include their mech's status in voice communications as well.
The Lieutenant's voice came over the comm as they finished startup procedures.
"Squad, sound off."
"Sarge here, me an' Gloria are ready to drop."
"Bass here, Genny's all green."
"Pistol here, Gwenneth's all set."
"Red here, George is ready to go."
"Acknowledged. Gertrude reports all systems ready."
As they waited silently for the drop zone to approach, a countdown appeared in their HUDs, and the bay doors below each mech opened. Sgt. Rawlins rolled his eyes as Cpl. Matt "Bass" Hayes began to sing. His deep voice rolling through the comm.
"Hold on to my arms."
The others joined in, even the LT, the brief moment helping to center them for the mission ahead.
"Here come battle scars."
The countdown ticked steadily towards 00:00.
"It's the final charge."
The support module dropped first, and in one crystalline instant, things Got Real.
"Here come battle scars."
