Notes: These are going to be a bit longer than normal. But please bear with me. Certain sections of this are going to be unpolished, but it was that or no chapter for another few months. Bear with?
First of all, sorry for the long wait. I'll be honest and just say I've done very little writing recently. No major reason for it beyond simple disinterest, really. There's been a lot of little things going on in life, and I've been enjoying both painting Warhammer models and playing some good games on top of that. It meant I basically ran out of ideas, more than anything. Don't expect much activity from me before February either. I'm a tax accountant in the UK and the deadling is 31 Jan (shameless reminder for anyone who has been holding out on their poor accountants). I will be very very busy soon, so will not have time for much of anything.
More importantly, I wanted to thank SlickRCBD for the idea that prompted the initial section of this chapter. It was an idea that finally sparked something in my head and allowed me to actually post something before the year ended. Thanks!
I probably butchered the American political system, but if anyone asks, it's all Contessa's fault. End of.
Yes, the name is unoriginal. Yes, it is shamelessly stolen. No, I am not apologetic at all.
John Carter considered himself a decent man, a mostly honest politician and a man dedicated to his country. He was also someone who did his best to be truly honest with himself. He knew, for instance, that he wasn't entirely honest, because you couldn't be a politician on Earth Bet, in this day and age, and be without some failed moral dilemma.
He was also aware that he was far too fond of his wife's treacle tart, and that he felt absolutely no shame in blaming the odd missing slice on his children. And that his wife was unaware that he could lie to her, in times of dire need.
That said, he always tried to do his best to fulfil the duties he'd willingly taken on as a Senator of the USA, and more specifically, part of the oversight committee for the Department of Justice and all of the organisations that came under that umbrella, such as the PRT, as hard as they made it.
He'd been aware that some changes would have to come into his life, after taking on the post in the oversight committee, and after talking it through with his wife, he'd accepted those changes. Like the mass of surveillance equipment in and around his house, the guards, and the tinkertech tracking he was now subject to.
It made him a very well-protected man. Something he'd appreciated a lot more after the first villain had tried to attack his family because of his new position.
It was that peace of mind that allowed him to relax when he returned home at the end of the day. Secure in the knowledge that his home was literally a fortress he could spend some time with his kids, catch up with his wife Sam, and then enjoy the meal she had ready for him.
Unfortunately, his nice quiet night wasn't to last. Sat on the sofa watching some TV show his wife had picked, one arm around her shoulders, John was mightily annoyed when his work phone rang. Giving Sam an apologetic look, he was already picking the phone up and answering as he moved to stand and leave the room.
Given that this was his work phone, and no one outside of the office should have his number, he didn't bother to check who was calling him, just hitting the accept button reflexively as he raised it to his ear.
Speaking as soon as the phone was in place, John acknowledged the call curtly, "Carter here."
What he was expecting to hear was one of the people from the office calling about an emergency. What he was not expecting to hear was a mechanically altered voice. The shock was so great that his exit from the room paused completely, leaving him standing a few steps from the sofa.
"Good evening, Senator."
Instantly on the defensive, John snapped out before the voice could carry on, "Who is this? How did you get this number?"
Hearing the change in tone, his wife Sam shot up from the sofa to turn and watch him, but most of his attention was taken by the phone in his hand.
"My name is Taylor Hebert, otherwise known as Mechanicus. I expect you know of me. And I directly accessed your phone, my technology is so far beyond what you have available that it was easy." Came the unhurried reply.
Again John felt himself freeze in shock. The woman who had wiped a city off the map and killed an Endbringer while avoiding the PRT entirely was calling him.
Seconds later worry started to pervade his being. He was part of the oversight committee for the PRT. Was this the start of a revenge attack, some form of lashing out?
Croaking out a hoarse reply, John was only able to form one word in response, "Mechanicus?"
"Indeed, Senator. I would like to speak to you privately. I felt calling you ahead of entering your home was polite."
Unknowingly, Taylor started to allow John to relax as her wording indicated he wasn't about to die messily alongside his family.
His mind starting to kick into gear, John asked the most important question, "And why did you want to speak to me?"
"I would like to pass across some information to allow you to improve the PRT. Is now a good time?" She queried.
Feeling more than slightly lost, John wandered back to the sofa and dropped into it heavily, responding after a deep sigh. This would be trouble, he just knew it. "I guess it's as good as any, assuming you don't want some actual office time."
Instantly the line went dead as Taylor hung up. John had time to bring the phone away from his ear and look at it quizzically before one of the infamous portals opened up just after the doorway, placed perfectly to not intersect with anything in the room.
From the portal stepped Taylor Hebert.
Clad in a red robe with a black and white square patterned border, she hadn't bothered with a mask of any kind, just a slightly boxy headset covering one ear with a small aerial rising above it. Her feet were clad in clean boots, producing a slight thud as she walked the carpeted room.
Nodding her head at both of them, her voice came out lacking the mechanical alteration from the phone call. "Senator Carter, Mrs Carter. Good evening."
Shaking off her shock, his wife stood up and greeted their unexpected guest. "Good evening, Mechanicus. Would you like a seat?"
The uncertain glance she sent at her husband revealed how worried Sam was, but as a long-serving lawyer, she didn't let it phase her. Instead, she was clearly doing her best to try and get through this unprecedented situation.
John knew for certain that it wasn't her safety she was worried about, but those of their children upstairs. Something he was more than sympathetic to since his thoughts were the same.
Given that level of worry, it was no wonder both of them flinched when another small portal opened up and Taylor reached inside.
The confusion must have been obvious on their faces when their unexpected guest retrieved two shiny gift bags.
Pausing in her forward walk at those looks, Taylor gave them both a small smile. "Please relax. I'm not here to cause any trouble or hurt you. Quite the opposite, in point of fact."
Moving forward again, Taylor passed the bags to Sam, before retreating to an armchair facing the sofa. Looking into the partially open bag uncertainly, Sam quickly adopted a look of shock, then reached in and drew out a bottle.
To John's surprise, it turned out the bags contained a bottle of alcohol for each of them. Reaching the label as he returned to his wife and the sofa, John could see that it was a particularly good bottle of scotch whisky. His favourite tipple and something hard to get with the problems Leviathan had caused world shipping.
The other bag held a bottle of British Gin, something his wife enjoyed and equally hard to get hold of.
Feeling entirely wrong-footed, John lowered himself carefully into his seat, his wife joining him just afterwards as she put the bags and bottles onto the coffee table.
Unable to help himself, John blurted out his foremost thought, "What do you want?!"
A second, smaller portal, opened up next to Taylor in mid-air. Putting most of her arm through, she withdrew a plain tan folder shortly afterwards, sliding it across the table to him.
"To put it simply, Mr Carter, I would like you to fix the PRT. As things stand the PRT is the only group capable of keeping a lid on the majority of villains and parahuman problems in this country. However, they are woefully incompetent. The laws and measures taken by the PRT are causing more problems than they are solving."
Leaning back in the armchair, Taylor carried on, "I can kill as many villains as I can find. But there will always be more behind them, and I have much bigger things I need to concentrate on. While I could destroy the PRT, without actually attacking them even, I cannot spare the time to put an organisation in place to protect ordinary citizens."
Waving a hand at the folder, Taylor finished her speech, "The data contained in that folder will allow you to start cleaning up the agency and get it working properly. Once the heroes are capable of doing their actual job, I can refocus my efforts where they are most needed."
Feeling like he already knew where this was going, the senator bit out, "And I suppose a complete removal of your wanted status will be part of that?"
It seemed the obvious conclusion to him, given the clandestine meeting and the wealth of information she was offering. No one in this day and age would simply pass that across without demanding something in return. And John had been a senator long enough to know that corruption and bribery were almost standard among high-level politicians across the world now. Not even he could say he was entirely clean, it just wasn't possible to be.
But he did still have standards and morals. He wouldn't sell out complete law and order, not where people could get hurt. And especially not to the level Taylor was capable of doing.
Thus, he was completely surprised when Taylor's words actually filtered through.
"If that's a decision reached by a fair and impartial PRT, then I'm fine with it. But it's not something that concerns me."
Seeing the look of shock on both John and Sam's faces, Taylor elaborated. "The PRT is so far beneath my concern it's not even funny at this point. I am beyond their reach, view and ability to touch. None of their analysts, thinkers or heroes could hope to have an impact on my plans. I would expect them to act within the bounds of law, nothing more."
It was such a rare outlook for a parahuman, let alone one labelled as a villain, that John was unable to comprehend the situation for several long moments. His mind was awhirl and his mouth opened multiple times before he failed to come up with something to say and closed it again.
Seeing the look on his face, his wife let out a low chuckle before exchanging an amused glance with Taylor. Deciding to allow John to come to terms with things for a few more moments, Sam let her more motherly instincts through to ask Taylor some questions.
"While John figures that out, you've mentioned you're safe from the PRT, but are you well otherwise? It's not easy for someone your age to live on their own." She commented.
Giving the kind woman a smile, Taylor immediately set to reassure her, "I've been fine, thank you. I have a lot of experience to call upon now."
To the two older people it sounded like she was referring to the Skitarii, but in actuality, she was more thinking of the information downloaded from her technological benefactors.
As the two women fell into a discussion of food plans, eating patterns and sleep levels, John allowed himself to truly consider the deal in front of him.
On the face of it, there was nothing to lose. A quick flip through the information gave him enough of a clue to be sure that he could massively shake up the PRT, something it desperately needed.
However, there were other considerations.
John considered himself a smart man. He knew when to push, and when to hold, he could deal with people and even more importantly, talk and listen to them. But the one thing that had allowed him to survive at the top of politics for so long is that he knew when to keep his mouth shut and make it seem like he knew nothing.
Despite what the public thought of them, the truly top levels of government were not ignorant too how much sway the PRT held. Or that there was something truly rotten in society and with the parahumans in particular.
Normally, when it came to solving a problem, each and every cape defaulted to violence of some kind. And for someone with enough clearance and an iota of intelligence, this allowed them to get a picture of just how much unknown parahumans were influencing things.
After all, it doesn't take a genius to realise just how many bills that would try to bring the PRT in line failed because of a targeted assassination. John's own predecessor had died in a car accident. A freak event where the heavily reinforced vehicle had been hit by a lorry falling off a bridge above it at just the right angle to crush the man riding in the back.
And there were dozens of stories like that.
Upon reaching his position and reviewing the files (a standard procedure for someone taking on his role), he'd quickly come to fear for his life. This was something that he hadn't even dared tell his wife. He'd happened to overhear two more junior members of the admin teams discussing oddities in files, less than a day before they both died in a parahuman fight in Washington.
No, indicating in any way that he knew that there was a conspiracy afoot was a direct line to being removed. He couldn't risk his family being caught in that, so he'd kept silent.
There was an almost unspoken agreement and knowledge inside the committee offices that allowed so many of them to toe the line and stay alive. In turn, this severely curtailed their ability to restrain the PRT and get any worthwhile practices in place.
And whoever the group behind the entire thing was, they were nothing like as subtle as they thought. The obvious missing documents and files, the disappeared personnel, and even the carefully directed tours and reviews were all massively easy to pick apart. But this was the reality John lived in and had for the last five years.
And that put John into something of a quandary. He wanted, desperately, to sort out the mess that was the PRT, to bring some stability and safety to the US public. And this information would allow significant inroads to doing that. But he knew, with absolute surety, that he wouldn't be allowed to get anywhere with it.
Then, something in particular Taylor had said popped into his head. She's specifically said she was beyond the reach of the PRT, but also their view. Could she have found a way of blocking Thinkers?
Dare he ask? Would that be enough to alert the mysterious group that had plagued the US government for so many years?
It was this circle of thinking that kept John silent and still as Taylor and Sam conversed, neither one appearing to be worried about the length of time he pondered.
Eventually, he decided that the best option was to get more information. Hopefully, that would solve his dilemma and allow him to give Taylor a response.
Lifting his head, he unknowingly interrupted the talk of recipes being exchanged between the two women as he formed his most important question. "You said earlier that you were beyond the sight of the PRT. What does that mean, precisely?"
Giving him a curious look, Taylor nonetheless answered, "Just that. None of their Thinkers can pick up anything on my actions, intentions, thoughts or technology. They are entirely blocked."
"And," he asked hesitantly, "Is that your personal doing, or is it a technological effect?"
Staring at the senator carefully, Taylor replied after long seconds of observation. "Technological."
"We're currently covered?" John immediately queried in a desperate tone of voice.
When Taylor simply nodded, John gave out a massive sigh of relief and slumped in his chair. Wiping a hand over a suddenly sweaty forehead, he missed the confused look the two women exchanged.
Raising his head again, he leaned forward and tapped the folder as he spoke, "As much as I would love to take this and act on it, this isn't enough."
To her credit, Taylor immediately seemed to realise that he meant more than the information wasn't complete. She was fully aware that everything he would need was in there with sufficient details that he could search for and find the original evidence himself. That meant something else was going on, so she waited for him to elaborate.
Slowly, John started speaking when he was sure she wouldn't interrupt. "There's nothing written down about this, not even speculation. The only people who know are the ones with clearance to view files and who have been able to see the consequences. But evidence has never been the main reason the PRT hasn't been taken to task. Every time we start to get anywhere, any time there is the slightest possibility of some traction, someone dies. Or everything is destroyed."
Looking shocked, his wife immediately blurted out a query, "What? How? Why didn't you say anything?"
Giving her an apologetic glance, John explained quickly. "Anyone who has tried to connect the dots has died as well. I didn't know until I was already taking over the position and had access to the plans. If I said anything, we'd both die. Oh, there was never anything obvious. But the fact there have been so many bizarre and unlikely accidents is evidence enough."
Leaning forward, Taylor queried the man, "I think you need to give us more information on this. If, as you suspect, we're currently protected."
Nodding his head, John immediately started laying things out. The history of various attempts to fix the PRT and the almost endless series of deaths and problems that appeared at the exact right time. He even explained how a number of staff members died after discussing theories with each other.
The number and ridiculousness of some of the accidents was astounding in its own right, but there were also times when low-clearance staff members had been killed just to divert attention. In the end, it swung right back around to horrifying.
"So you see," He confessed, "I'd love to take your information. But as things stand, I just can't justify it."
Leaning back in her chair. Taylor considered the matter carefully. Within her mind, and utilising the massive super-computers she could connect to, calculations, estimations and simulations ran at huge speeds. With access to all of the PRT files as of a few weeks ago, she had all of the details she needed. Connections were made, analytics run, and conclusions were made.
Speaking slowly as she realised what she could do, Taylor raised an option with the senator. "What if you could?"
Again, a small portal opened up in the room, this time it sat parallel to the ground and a small item dropped out into Taylor's waiting hand. It was about the size of a necklace locket. Matt black in colour, the round device had a cog shape detailed around the outer edges in white and a tracing of green lines looking like a circuit board inside that.
Handing it across to John Taylor quickly explained. "This is a personal defence token, one I've issued to all of my employees. It incorporates the technology used to block Thinker from being able to gain information directly from an individual. Pre-cogs, Post-cogs, and anything of that sort is blocked. Be aware that someone directly observing an individual will still be able to pick up some information. But only so much as someone trained in body language would do, as an example."
Tapping the front portion of the device, Taylor carried on explaining, "It also functions as a personal shield. Capable of preventing harm from most conventional weaponry. It would need repeated exposure to forces in excess of tank shells to put a dent in the shield."
Allowing first the senator, then his wife to handle the shielding device for several seconds, Taylor finished her offer. "I all willing to allow you to have as many of these as you need to protect your people. However, they will be protected from falling into anyone else's hands. If anyone other than the recipient handles them they will self-destruct. Same for any attempts to scan, alter or open the devices."
"You'd need enough to protect their families as well," Sam commented, eying the device curiously. "From the sounds of some of these accidents, they are not exactly indiscriminate. A lot of the teams may refuse to help if those around them aren't protected."
Considering the matter for a second, John nodded before giving Taylor a questioning look.
Thinking it over, Taylor nodded to show she was agreeable.
That left John with a decision to make. Did he take the folder and trust some unknown tech with the lives of nearly everyone in his office, his family and all of theirs? Or did he take the easy path and bow out?
Spinning the little disk in his hands, he fell silent again as he considered things.
A small part of him was rather annoyed when his wife started talking to Taylor again, this time about decorations.
…
The next day John strode into his office with a determined and unstoppable pace. Under one arm he had a sealed cardboard box, the other was clenched in a fist as he went straight for his office.
Once he was at his desk the box was set on a chair and he picked up the phone without sitting down. Calling through to security he gave them a warning of an incoming delivery then headed back to his secretary's desk.
"Janet?" He queried, pausing to wait for the woman to look up at him.
"Yes, sir?" He got back immediately.
"I want everyone in the department in the large meeting room today. 10 am. Only those on holiday out of the country are to be left out. So I expect everyone to be there. Day off or not. There will be a large lunch and coffee delivery coming just before. If they are off today and with family I want their family there as well, alright?" He was pleased he got that across in a forceful tone without descending into barking or condescending. But it was imperative everyone was there at the same time.
She stared at her boss for several seconds in shock, Janet eventually nodded. While the request for all hands on deck wasn't completely unknown, it was normally reserved for truly catastrophic events. Something she would have heard or known about before this point.
The acceptance of family being present just made the entire thing weirder.
Quickly saving and closing her typing. Janet went about the process of sending out the urgent messages and calling those who wouldn't be able to pick up in time. There was a well-established protocol for this, so she was quickly making headway after making sure her boss had returned to his office.
Seconds later his head popped around the door again to provide an addendum to his orders. "That means all administrative and security staff as well, Janet. Lock down the building once we're all here."
Then he disappeared again.
At that point, Janet felt like her mouth was going dry from the open-mouthed shock. Having the actual oversight teams involved made sense. The rest of the department did not. The administrative staff included janitors, cleaners and a myriad of others who weren't part of the normal process. This was going to be a pain for her and many others.
At quarter to ten, Janet left her desk and headed to the front desk quickly. She'd just received a call from security that the food Senator Carter had laid out was arriving and they needed to know where to take it.
Reaching the doors, Janet was again shocked silly as she realised this wasn't the usual fare they ordered when an all-hands meeting was called. I.e. the cheapest crap the government could find. High-end coffee, delicious fresh breads and fillings were piled up alongside hot foods of an amazing variety.
Desperately wondering what exactly was going on, Janet took charge of the catering staff and led them to the large amphitheatre the team took large briefings in.
By the time the food was sorted, people had started drifting in. Mostly those who weren't already in the office today. Some toting significant others or children. And as the clock hit ten the stream of people entering the room and heading for food was enough to cause a queue in the doorway.
For her own purposes, Janet was subject to many queries, since she normally knew some of what was going on, but this time she had to admit to complete ignorance. Not that it stopped her from enjoying the very good coffee and some fresh food.
By five past, everyone was either in the room or trying to be. Janet had a tick-list in her lap to make sure. So, at ten past, when John stormed in carting his box and with the other senators on the committee behind him, Janet could give him a nod to acknowledge everyone was there. Surprisingly, again, the rest of the senators quickly grabbed some coffee and food before sitting with the team members instead of joining John. It seemed even they didn't know what this was about.
Stepping up to a podium, John turned on the mic embedded in it before tapping the thing to get everyone's attention.
"Alright, everyone. Grab a seat and we'll get started. First of all, I need to do something a little drastic. Please be aware that nothing in this room will have any kind of effect on you, you're not in any kind of danger, nor at risk of any masters or the like. I know how this looks, but you'll understand shortly."
Ignoring the startled glances he got at that less than reassuring speech, John pushed a button on the little device he'd dropped onto the wooden podium. Instantly a small portal opened up and a two-foot obelisk dropped through, floating off the ground. A pulse of green energy went through the thing, and then a shield expanded to cover the entire room.
As the shield settled into place, John let out a relieved breath and relaxed. "Well, we are now safe and secure. Sorry for the cloak and dagger approach folks."
Fondly patting the device without an ounce of fear (which was very different from when he'd first been introduced to it.) "This is a top of the line shielding obelisk made by the individual identified as Mechanicus. I know you all know who she is."
Said in a dry tone, John got the expected laughs before he carried on explaining. "Not only is this room shielded from every last kind of attack, but it also shields us completely from any kind of cape scrutiny or influence."
That got everyone's attention, as the entire room suddenly stared at the amazing device with a little bit of awe. "Now, the reason I've got access to this device for the day is so we can discuss a topic that has been strictly forbidden in this department for a great number of years. I'm sure we're all aware and have been affected by the direct interference of unknown capes for years. Interference that completely prevented us from doing our work.
Well, last night I got a visit from Mechanicus herself, providing me with every bit of intelligence and legally traceable information to crush that streak."
Raising his hands in the air, John quickly worked to calm the crowd as numerous individuals started looking varying degrees of worried or scared. "I know, I know. I was in the same boat. Attempting to even discuss the situation has ended with multiple people dead. But I was able to get confirmation that Mechanicus is a blank spot in all of that and now we have that protection. This obelisk and more."
Lifting a box into his hands, about the size to contain a decent set of walking boots, John handed it down to his secretary.
"Inside that box," He explained, "Is a device for each of you, and for your family members. It works as a smaller version of the obelisk. More limited in scope where it blocks out the sight of any cape, but still powerful. You could get hit and run over by a truck going well over any speed limit and you wouldn't have a scratch on you."
Gesturing at Janet to start handing the small devices out, John held up one he'd kept for himself. The little thing looked like a small green gem surrounded by dark metal. It was no bigger than the tip of his little finger and had the fixing for a broach or necklace.
"Take enough for everyone you live with, or interact with regularly, then explain to them that they must not take this off, under any circumstances. Now, the ability to block you from the sight of Thinkers isn't as strong as the obelisk, so whoever has been acting against us will know something is up, but they won't be able to stop it. And by the time we're done? It'll be too late."
Grinning smugly, John waited for the response of his audience. He had a bet going with his wife about what it would be.
Fortunately, John proved to be correct as everyone immediately started clambering, unable to overcome the fear that had been part of their everyday lives for so long. Among the reactions were people gaping in shock, checking the windows and walls in fear, but most of all, shouting at John.
Hah! That Rhubarb Crumble was all John's. He could almost taste the sweet rewards of victory of his wife already.
In the meantime, he had a crowd of people who had spent years living in fear of doing exactly what he was asking to win over.
It took a while, but the sheer fact that he wasn't already dead when he started discussing issues helped. So eventually he was able to calm the crowd. Things paused for a while then as everyone shared stories, bringing everyone up to date and commiserating with each other.
After that though, the non-critical staff headed out and the much smaller leaders gathered and started hashing out an actual plan. First of all, it involved going through the evidence they already had, making notes of what needed following up and what could be accepted as is.
At the suggestion of several of his people, John encouraged his team to accept the information as is for the moment. With that in mind, they could start making proper plans to move forward and bring the PRT back into compliance as a potentially efficient and competent government branch.
Or at least as competent as such things get.
There were limits, after all.
…
Two weeks later the group of senior officials returned to the large meeting room. Unlike last time there were no confused or worried looks. Instead they all appeared to have gone through the wars. Rumpled clothing, hair starting to look frazzled or unshaven depending on the gender, they all had bags under their eyes and thousand yard stares at this point.
Slumping down into chairs around a large table that had been set up for the meeting they all fell on the provided hot food and coffee with ravenous hunger. The first twenty minutes of the meeting were silent except for the sounds of eating and drinking. All of them recognising that if they got started with the actual purpose of being there they would quickly lose any appetite they may have.
Eventually though, the food was reduced to crumbs and each of them was cradling a hot drink, so John moved to make a start.
"I think it would be a good idea to start with the crap and move on to the funny. Thoughts?" He queried the room.
Talisha, one of his senior workers was the first to speak, gesturing with her cup as was the norm. The woman spoke as much with her hands as anything else. "Sounds good to me. We'll need something to cheer us up."
Nodding his head, John pulled over a folder of reports from his stack of two. Everyone else doing the same and opening it up.
"Well, we now know that Taylor is absolutely not the first person to have been seriously screwed over by the PRT. And the Youth Guard is going to get gutted given the complete shit they are making of the Wards." John started off.
Noah Toms snorted at that understatement. Something John expected since he was a pretty devoted father and his focus had been on the Wards. Like John he'd seen some pretty glaring problems in the program for years and been unable to push for any change.
"That's putting it mildly, John. The top level of the Guard are already out on their asses. Several of them are facing federal prosecution and we need to re-write more than half of their procedures. That's on top of nearly every Ward needing a new contact, compensation, therapy and that's just if none of them decide to sue the PRT. It's a fucking mess, boss." He snarled.
Nodding his head, John accepted the comment, it wasn't like Noah was wrong. "Alright, let's start with the Wards then. We can get to the rest of the Protectorate after them before moving on to the actual PRT. Who wants to start?"
Looking up, he nodded at Mason when he waved slightly to indicate he had something to say. Mason was a legal expert with a focus on contract law, so it made sense to start with him, since hopefully it would mean they could clear out the issues for all of those currently in the program.
"The biggest problem I've found is the PR teams around the country fucking up the contracts. They've removed so many damn rights from the kids it's surprising they weren't following them into the toilets." Mason groused.
A harsh bark of bitter laughter from across the table came from Brooke, a woman who was in the army prior to moving into the committee. Part of an initiative to utilise the armed forces expertise and allow some of the staff to stay employed as the funding to the traditional forces went down the pan. "And those fucking idiots were blocking so many protective requests in the name of looking pretty I'm surprised we don't have any kids dead because of it."
At that the entire table was focused on her with multiple horrified looks. "You can't be serious?" Ian asked faintly?
Shaking her head in irritation, Brooke dashed his hopes, "Nope. Tasers, batons, even armour and pepper spray were all thrown out unless it was an integral part of their power. The average mall cop is better armed, armoured and funded than most of those kids."
Her reveal was greeted by multiple people swearing in shock, none of them disbelieving the statement, but completely disgusted that it was happening. Looking at Mason, John had an immediate question, "Will the changes you want to their contracts help with that?"
Leaning back in his seat, Mason visibly considered the matter for long moments. "A little, but not enough on its own. But, if we introduced some protective wording on behalf of the Wards we can push that. There would need to be a proper consultant for it in each branch though."
Giving the man a confused look, Mason elaborated, "We can put in sections where the Wards are required and able to reject anything that doesn't meet a minimum standard or protection and that they have to be provided with sufficient equipment to keep themselves safe. It will be difficult, but doable."
Nodding firmly, John immediately agreed with the suggestion, "Good idea. Set a team to get the wording together. Brooke, go through the Army and find us some consultants that can work with this, we need them in place as soon as possible."
Both of the individuals quickly agreed and started writing up notes to be able to push their tasks forward after the meeting.
Smiling slightly, pleased they'd been able to make some headway on the mountain of problems, John quickly prodded everyone back onto the task at hand.
From looking at the Wards, the group quickly moved on to speaking about the Protectorate. There were still issues there, but less than was apparent with the Wards, the people they were looking at being grown men and women.
At first, this seemed like it would be the easiest of their jobs, the people involved were generally forceful personalities who had either been burned during their time as a Ward, or had a poor opinion of the PRT before joining. The oversight committee was not responsible for any problems with them personally either, since there were procedures in place for any Cape acting out in a troublesome way.
Unfortunately, it quickly became clear that whoever was interfering in the oversight committee was also active with the Protectorate. Various members around the country were in flagrant opposition to the tenants of the Protectorate, and there were even one or two that deserved the Birdcage more than anything.
All of this was discussed and had options discussed, taking most of another two hours to complete.
Leaning back as they finished that portion of the meeting, John shook his hand out to allay the cramp all of his writing was causing, watching other members of the team do something similar, or just stretching and shifting about.
Cracking a smile, he asked the group, "Alright, I think we need to break for lunch before starting on the PRT. Before that, how about we speak about any weirdness we've come across this week?"
Immediately Mason snorted and gave John a dark look. "You mean what attempts on our lives have been foiled by those little devices?"
Chuckling slightly, John nodded his agreement. "I've heard a few comments, but it would be good to see what lengths these people are going to regardless."
Sighing slightly, Sasha spoke up. Sasha was another senior worker and was a cynic of the highest degree. "Since I already know this is going to turn into a game of one-upping each other I'll go first then, since my encounter was the least weird."
Once everyone's attention was on her she quickly explained, "I was hit in the head by a flying roof tile. In my bathroom, without it going through the window."
There were muffled bits of laughter at that idea, so Sasha expanded on it. "Apparently, it was blown off a building more than a mile away. Flew across the city, through my open bedroom window, into the en-suite and pierced the shower curtain to hit me in the face. If the shield hadn't blocked it entirely I'd be dead."
That sobered everyone up, the group exchanging wary looks. And in that moment they all acknowledged that they had all had very similar experiences.
Mason was the next to speak, "I was driving under a bridge on the way to the office with some evidence when a lorry broke through the railings above me. Damn thing landed square on my bike. Would have crushed me and the bike flat and destroyed everything else. Fucking thing bounced off the shield and fell on its side. Driver said a bird rammed into his window."
Brooke offered her story before anyone else could comment, "Mine was because of a new Ward. A tinker in for power evaluation. Forgot to put a safety on his energy weapon and it went off during. Pierced the shielding and went through fourteen floors to shoot me in the back. No injuries or significant damage other than that."
And on it went around the table. Each one of them had a story about some ridiculous series of events that would have ended up with them dead.
"The only good thing about this," John sighed heavily, "Is that they don't seem to be going for large amounts of collateral damage. None of your families have had any problems?"
After getting headshakes from everyone, John nodded. "The real down side. Every last one of us was targeted at the most opportune moment. Ignoring the fact that one of us dying would have put a stop to this, the investigation itself would have been ended because of the lost details."
That to curses and nods from people as they examined the timing. Mason with his evidence, Brooke because she'd been just in time to prevent evidence being contaminated, even Sasha who had been needed an hour later to clear some documentation with a judge.
Talisha whistled softly, "That's some serious Thinker skills. I know they probably aren't as diligent with us as the actual PRT, but Watchdog should be covering the entire government to prevent this exact kind of thing."
"Which brings up its own problems. Because if we aren't protected, how much of the rest of the government is?" John added.
Exchanging looks with the rest of the team, John had only one conclusion. "I need to speak to Mechanicus. We might need more the help than anyone realises."
…
Walking into the briefing room a couple of days after Leviathan died, Jason and Helen glanced around quickly before heading over to where Taylor was standing staring at a spinning hologram of Earth. They'd been called to discuss the next missions for the Skitarii, so Taylor was clearly studying the latest information they'd have available.
Approaching the holographic projector, the due made enough noise as they reached the younger woman that she glanced over at them, nodding to acknowledge their presence.
Exchanging greetings, Helen leaned on the projector and started looking into the labels of major threats on Earth. Meanwhile, Jason had some questions on his mind he wanted to ask about first.
"I got a reply about the bounties on the Slaughterhouse and Leviathan today." He commented, "They just want to know where to make the payout at this point."
Turning away from the globe, Taylor considered the matter for several moments before waving one hand, "Have them donate it to charities. We have more than enough money thanks to your sales of materials. Providing the government with any way to trace those funds just isn't worth the hassle."
Nodding his head, he was well aware of the wealth Taylor had built up, and made available to them, to understand the sentiment. The amount of materials in the asteroid belt was enough to collapse economies if they were reckless, but it also meant they could build up any level of funding they wanted with care.
"Any preference on charities?" He queried.
That got Taylor to pause and consider the matter a little further. "Set someone to look into it, will you? I want the money to go to helping children and emergency aid. Find out which charities would be best and split it out?"
Nodding his head, Jason made a mental note before finishing his journey to the planning terminal. Taylor followed closely behind.
As soon as they reached her Helen looked up and spoke, "Sleeper, Taylor?"
Immediately Taylor shook her head, "No, not for you at least. Sleeper is going to take a more destructive solution."
That got Jason's attention, lifting it from the holographic map showing part of Russia, "Oh? Why?"
Stepping to the side and forward Taylor used the in-built keyboard to start manipulating the display. The marked location of Sleeper shifted to one side while a line of text and stats appeared next to it.
"Sleeper, currently residing inside a large exclusion zone in Russia, is an S-Class threat. The main danger when dealing with him is a powerful storm, there are indications that he actually transforms and becomes to storm. The storm itself is not a typical one, being more along the lines of an energy storm. It is hazardous to anyone using powered items against him." Taylor explained.
"At the moment a thorough scan of both Sleeper and the surrounding area is being undertaken. Once I am sure how he will react to directed energy attacks, and that the area is cleared, he will be eliminated via remote bombardment."
Chuckling in realisation, Helen commented with a single word, getting nods back from the other two, "Paragon."
"Indeed, sending any of the Skitarii against Sleeper is a death sentence, if Paragon's guns don't solve the problems, a portal will be opened instead," Taylor replied, manipulating the screen again to reorient things for the group.
"Instead, I wanted to discuss your next target. I have been reviewing the situation and I believe the best option will be to deal with the quarantine zone for the Machine Army."
As she was speaking, Taylor had the holographic screens zoom in on the city, showing an apparently normal but utterly deserted American city.
Leaning forward to study the layout, Jason commented absently, "This one can't be dealt with via bombardment?"
Shaking her head, Taylor quickly filled the duo in on the missing information. "Unfortunately not. The Machine Army has existed for this long because they are occupying dimensional pockets. Ana attack that couldn't pierce those pockets would only destroy their surroundings, but allow them to exit and attack freely still."
"And a ground assault isn't going to hit the same problems?" Helen asked curiously.
With a shake of her head Taylor played some archived footage stolen from the PRT, showing initial attempts at contact, and what happened to those that entered the city before the cordon went up.
"No, from what I've been able to extract from the information available the Machine Army are unable to stop themselves from attacking any human in the city limits. They will come to you."
Letting out a noise of realisation, Jason quickly summarised her plan, "So we need to dig in and destroy them as they come?"
Nodding her head, Taylor agreed, "That's the idea."
"There aren't that many of us, Taylor." Jason cautioned warily, "Even with advanced guns we don't have the firepower to survive that kind of assault for long, and I'd think even their need to kill humans would stall in the face of any of the Titans."
Truthfully, Jason was expecting more to the plan. Throwing her people away wasn't something Taylor was capable of, and right now that's what her plan smacked of.
A small chuckle confirmed his suspicions, Taylor had been holding back.
"True, we can't use any of my children for this, but we do have a couple of Knights. And you've all completed the slaved drone training. So, I made everyone some toys."
Both Taylor and Jason turned their head slowly at the high-pitched excited noise Helen made at that declaration. She was now leaning forward and almost vibrating with excitement. When the other two made eye contact she immediately began talking, "What toys? What have you made? Please show us!"
Jason and Taylor quickly exchanged a wary glance, before Taylor's face morphed into an amused expression. Neither one had seen the usually calm and collected woman this excited before.
Letting out another small laugh, Taylor triggered the holographic display to change. Instead of the view of Earth, there was now a picture of a small chest-high-tracked creation. Looking like a simplified and stripped-down version of a tank, there were two tracks on either side of a rectangular body. From the front of that body, a hazy form of gun protruded.
"First up," Taylor declared grandly, getting into the spirit of things, "We have the Rapier drone weapon platforms. Now fully automated with complete reload and targeting capabilities, this little beast can be directed and moved using the Skitarii implants to add fire to any situation. It also carries an advanced sensor suite to ensure no enemy is unobserved!"
Seeing the bland look Jason was giving both women, Taylor stopped putting the showman act on and returned to a more serious mien. "There are several load-outs available depending on the situation."
Changing the screen again, the view split into four views. "First up is the quad-launcher mortar. High explosive, incendiary and airburst shells are available. This variant will require a second trailer attachment to hold enough ammunition to be useful. The second option is the Graviton Cannon, which can increase or decrease gravity in an area to dangerous levels. This one will aid in battlefield control, but will also ignore armour and shields when targeting an area."
"The remaining two options are quad-linked bolters or lascannons." Taylor finished.
Leaning forward with a still disturbing grin on her face, Helen quickly queried her boss. "How many can we field, or control?"
"Directly by yourself?" Taylor specified, "Two each. My children will be helping by controlling more of them, but there will still be an upper limit. And I have more toys for you."
Wide-eyed, Helen pleaded silently at these words.
"The last of the equipment you will be directly controlling are the support platforms. These have anti-gravity technology to ensure you have aerial defences, they can be equipped with either shadow weavers or vibro cannons." This time the view was of a futuristic crewed weapon turret. The bottom was a horizontal elongated U shape. The open part of the shape was at the front of the turret and instead of curving inward, it stabbed outward in the shape of a blade. On top of that was a rotating gun poking out from a flat, forward-facing protective shield.
"You can see the drone that forms the targeting and operating part, but this will again be linked to members of the Skitarii." Taylor pointed out, drawing attention to the scarab-like device replacing the point where a person would normally sit.
Triggering a new view on the screens, Taylor showed two huge and hulking walkers. One with huge guns underslung in place of arms. Helen let out a slight squee sound the other two diplomatically ignored.
"This is the Leviathan Siege Dreadnought. Originally a piloted walker, I have refitted four of them as drone platforms. I will be controlling these directly due to the strain on the pilot's mental faculties. Their armaments are chosen from a storm cannon, a cyclonic melta-lance, grav-flux bombard cannons, as well as siege drills and claws for closer operations."
"Next up, we have the tarantula sentry guns. Fixed emplacement weapons with either quad-linked las cannons or heavy bolters. They have automatic Friend or Foe detection systems and will open up on anything tagged as an enemy. These will be held in reserve and dropped into the fight from a high portal. Once the situation on the ground becomes a little clearer it will allow us to control the battlefield, and these are very expendable. If they get overrun they will detonate and self-destruct."
At that point Taylor paused to allow her underlings to catch up and digest everything, although both were aware there was more coming, just based on her grin.
Eventually, Helen was unable to contain her curiosity any longer and asked, "What else is there?"
A disturbing grin spread across Taylor's face for a few seconds. Then she spoke a single word that explained everything. "Tanks."
From there a list of tanks appeared on the screen. All of the Skitarii were familiar with the makes and models Taylor had built based on the guidelines left to her, but neither had known of the refit into drone-controlled versions.
Glaive Super-Heavy tanks, Arquitor Bombardment tanks and a Baneblade were representing the Imperium. The Necrons had two Doomstalkers as well as the Monoliths used against Leviathan. The finale was Scorpion Heavy tanks, Warp Hunters and Lynx vehicles from the Eldar.
"Finally, there are two squadrons of Wraithguard and Wraithblades ready for deployment." Taylor finished.
Giving each other a grin, Helen and Jason immediately started working with Taylor to understand the capabilities of the various pieces of tech they now had access to, and to come up with a coherent plan.
This eventually drew the rest of the squads in once they had a basic outline, all of them splitting time between the simulators and the planning deck to ensure they would overcome their foe without losses.
…
Two days later the group were prepared. They would be dropping into a corner of the exclusion zone. The deployment zone was carefully chosen, there was no cover since the PRT and army had systematically removed anything that might hide machines, but the point chosen was a carefully calculated distance from the walls.
Close enough that with the correct scanners the Skitarii knew they wouldn't be flanked, but far enough away that Knights and Titans could be deployed if things went wrong.
Given that the enemy was a horde of murderous robots they had all decided to not bother with any of the normal tactics that would give an advantage to an attacker. No strikes at dawn or hidden insertions. Instead, at noon when the sun was fullest, portals opened up horizontally above the chosen location and forms started dropping out of the sky.
First came temporary bunkers and defensive structures. Designed after the Astartes versions, but much larger, more heavily armoured and much more heavily gunned, five structures hammered into the ground. As soon as they touched down clamps and drills went into motion, connecting the buildings to the ground underneath.
From above the protected weapons and sensor equipment deployed, then the walkways from which the Skitarii would start the fight flipped up from their flat position, ready to protect the people behind them.
At the same time, dozens of smaller devices dropped into place. Low tarantula turrets clamped down while grav and wheeled turrets moved as soon as they hit the ground. In less than three minutes the space was a bristling mass of guns and defensive walls.
Once the defences were in place new portals opened up, this time in the normal vertical alignment and inside the new bunkers. From them the Skitarii dashed through, first inside the bunkers, then up top so they could be seen. Each one was carrying heavy weaponry and had new helmets. The new helmets had the added controls necessary for each member of the team to control their drones.
Within seconds of the soldiers being visible from outside the sounds of mechanical shifting rang across the grounds. Where before there were signposts, seemingly abandoned vehicles and all manner of detritus, now they were revealed to be concealment spots for robots bursting out of the ground or storage points.
As the heavy weapon systems clicked onto the bunkers the Skitarii quickly started picking targets and opening fire. From each of the teams shattering fire cracked across the no-mans-land they'd created. At first, the shots were slowly paced, testing shots to dial in the range and aim for each operator, and then more and more heavy fire was heard.
This was amplified by the slaved drones of each man. The extra weapons from each small vehicle automatically compensating for the different positions and aiding their controller in destroying the attacking enemy.
Not only was there the thundering roar of heavy bolters but also the zap-crack of laser fire, the alien noise of gauss weaponry and Eldar fire. Alongside this, the Machine Army returned fire as soon as they came into range. Standard gunpowder fire created their additions to the cacophony as the machines returned fire.
The first waves of attackers were unorganised, unthinking and made up entirely of those closest to the now-revealed humans. They didn't pause to re-evaluate the situation, or wait for more of their number to arrive. Instead, they charged at full speed from their hiding places directly at the lines of Skitarii.
For their part, the Skitarii remained calm and collected, each bunker designated a zone of the killing field in front of them and mowed down the opposition with ruthless efficiency. Safely behind various energy shields and obfuscating holographic defences they ignored the bullets shot at them and ensured nothing survived.
They were, however, aware that this was the easiest stage. The Machine Army seemed unable to stop itself from trying to kill any organic life in their area of operations, but it wasn't a guarantee that they would be stupid about it. Given the interconnected nature of their foe, it was likely that these initial victories would just add to the data and tactical analysis of later attacks.
But this had already been planned for. The initial waves were destroyed with the most basic of mounted weaponry, the moving turrets and the weapons of the soldiers themselves. More powerful munitions, ammo types and weapons would be held in reserve for later on in the fight. At the same time, the field ahead of the bunkers was being mined. Both with a variety of Mechanicus-built explosives, but also with Necron scarabs working to break the encryption and network for the Machine Army.
If Taylor could access the programming and information held within the Machine Army, not only could she bring them all to a complete halt, but she could also potentially gain access to their pocket dimension technology. It was a worthy goal for any adept of the Mechanicus, and one Trazyn would have been more than happy with.
As the initial wave was destroyed, the Skitarii were given a brief reprieve, allowing them to get updates on the enemies heading their way, and the measures Taylor had set up to combat things.
With new tactical maps uploaded to their equipment, the soldiers went back to preparing for the next wave to arrive. Most of them took the time to unload longer-ranged weapons, and as soon as the enemy came within sight used the more accurate versions to pick off charging robots.
Scans of the approaching enemy aided in this, as vital or vulnerable spots were highlighted in the augmented view of the Skitarii. Combined with highly accurate weaponry it allowed the shooters to hit and kill each of their targets where possible.
An example of the adaptive nature of the foe was soon seen, as screening platforms moved ahead bearing shields and armour plating started covering vital areas of the attackers. It didn't stop the powerful anti-material rifle variants entirely, but it did slow them down.
It also showed the networked capabilities of the Machine Army, the transition from uncoordinated rush to precision teamwork almost instantly.
With that change, the first of the additional weapon platforms came online. Twin-linked heavy bolters from Tarantula turrets and quad-linked rapier arrays opened up, stitching the ground far ahead of the bunkers and slamming into the approaching foe.
Getting an update that the full weight of the basic firepower from the emplacements was now pouring into the enemy positions, Jason immediately snapped out an order, "Cease suppression fire, switch to target elimination."
Changing their weapons quickly, all of the Skitarii unlimbered high-powered weapons and started shooting at anything that looked like it was directing the rest of the enemy. Under normal circumstances, this kind of tactic might have been highly effective. Wiping out the leaders of an attacking force, when they were already advancing into heavy fire, would shatter the coordination and morale of the enemy.
In this case, there were momentary hitches in the enemy around that target as the enemy AI realised their network node was gone and switched to another unit. However, with continuous explosive rounds and energy weapons constantly bombarding the attackers this momentary hitch was enough to keep the robots at range.
And that was the name of the game. Keep the enemy in the killing zone created by the advanced weaponry of the Skitarii. If any of the Machine Army breached the bunkers the Skitarii wouldn't have the strength or reaction speed to deal with large numbers of them.
It was accompanied by this cacophony that the PRT entered. From behind the protective walls, a VTOL jet approached the newly installed bunkers carefully. Jason paused in his firing for a brief moment to add the jet to the safe list but otherwise ignored it. The ground out from the bunkers was filled with ordinance, energy and explosions as the Skitarii took their toll. That did not mean they could afford to be complacent.
Seconds later someone from the jet was shouting over a loudspeaker, demanding the invading group exit the area immediately and surrender to the PRT. Further comments Jason only partially paid attention to showed that the PRT felt the group were doing the cape equivalent of tourism and would get themselves killed. Especially as a much larger group of the Machine Army was spotted grouping up out of weapons range before advancing.
In point of fact, three such groups were being assembled. Clearly, the Machine Army was finally starting to show some sign of tactics. Based on their positions the three groups would sweep down at the bunkers, one each from the front, left and right of the positions.
By forcing their attackers to split their firepower they hoped to reduce the damage enough to get through and strike at the individuals directly.
However, this too had been planned for and Jason was ready to respond. Tapping into the weapon systems a mortar battery on each bunker readied itself and its deadly payload.
He was immediately thankful he'd done this before the robot groups were fully assembled though, as his guidance systems clearly showed the PRT jet was directly in the ballistic path of one battery.
Sending a swift and worried message to Taylor, Jason returned to shooting the army in front of him. Hoping the young woman would be able to solve the problem in time for the payloads to shoot.
…
PRT strike team captain Mark Willow was currently in way over his head. And he didn't like it one bit.
It was bad enough being posted to a Quarantine Zone in the first place. That it was keeping the Machine Army at bay was even worse in some ways. Just to survive the PRT had to adopt a level of professional paranoia that, frankly, weighed heavily on everyone over time.
Added to the fact that they were unilaterally assigned capes who were both anti-social and destructive, and it got even worse.
It was a point of fact that the only place that was lower on the totem pole than Eagleton was the zone around Ellisburg and Nilbog, at least it was before the whole place was removed.
And now some group of normal who'd got their hands on Tinker weapons had decided to take on an entire bloody army.
Admittedly this group seemed unusually well prepared. Normally they were the equivalent of safari hunters, but this lot had dropped actual bunkers down to shoot from.
Undoubtedly the tinker was down there somewhere. Convinced that their friends with a couple of weapons could achieve something that the PRT had been trying to do for years.
Idiots.
Broadcasting the standard warning and demanding the idiots surrender and retreat, Mark was not at all surprised when nothing happened in response. However, he was also slightly thankful. The ground in front of those bunkers was being shredded as fast as the machines could appear. He did not want his jet being hit with any of that shit, thank you very much.
And just as he said that some really big fucking barrelled mortar-looking thing was racking up.
Opening his mouth to shout at the pilot, he instead had to grab onto the vehicle to keep himself stable as the jet retreated further back from the bunker and away from the Machine Army.
"What the hell, Jess?! Warn a guy next time!" He shouted at their pilot.
"Wasn't me, Captain. The jet moved itself!" Jess cried back, desperately tapping at controls and readings to try and work out what was going on.
And then the video screens inside the vehicle came to life. It was displaying the visage of one of the most renowned individuals in the world.
A soft breath left Mark as he exhaled in shock, their name coming out involuntarily, "Mechanicus."
Even through the video Mark could feel the glare settle on him. Clearly, she had complete control and access to the VTOL's systems. Somehow, Mark wasn't even aware the damn thing was capable of that.
"Indeed. You are interfering in an operation by my people. Remove yourselves from the engagement zone immediately. You may perform the clean-up once our job is done. Do not make me push the issue."
Then all of the screens cut off and the group was left floundering. Their orders had been to prepare the attackers for removal. How the hell were they supposed to accomplish that when the girl who'd wiped the Slaughterhouse Nine, Leviathan and a fucking city off the map was responsible?
Fuck this job.
"Contact HQ." Mark managed to croak. This was so far above his pay grade.
…
With the damn PRT out of the way, Jason was finally able to get the mortars to open fire. Huge auto-loaded shells blasted out of them and headed to the gathering groups. Each of the bunkers featured twelve Stormshard mortars. Arcing cannons that used lethal airburst rounds to shred an enemy with Aquila-shaped flechettes.
Well, normally they would be Aquila-shaped flechettes, but Taylor was not beholden to the traditionalism of the Mechanicus, so she'd re-designed the payload to maximise penetration and lethality.
With a deep thud each of the mortars fired in turn, they were sending their payload directly at the more tightly packed groups of the Machine Army preparing to sweep against the bunkers.
The concussive blast as each one fired was strong enough that the Skitarii felt it in their chests, the bunkers themselves shaking slightly despite the heavy and reinforced construction.
Hidden away by the geography of the town, the Machine Army didn't even have any real indication of their approaching doom. Thanks to the slower nature of the projectile there was no sonic boom as the shell broke the sound barrier. Only those that survived the attack would hear the whistling sound of the shell's descent.
The majority of those forces simply disintegrated as massive amounts of deadly metal powered through anything in their radius. Each shell hammering down one after another.
Both Helen and Jason took the time to check the results of this bombardment, ignoring the notifications of the automatic reloading system. Fortunately, it appeared they had achieved their goals with the first strike.
The destruction of the bigger groups was paramount, of course, but it also served an additional purpose. They needed to convince the logical minds of the Machine Army that the Skitarii represented a significant threat, a definite bonus if defeated, but also that their normal tactics would not work.
If the Machine Army went down the route Taylor expected they would quickly throw all of their forces at the Skitarii en-masse. And that would allow Taylor to bring her more powerful weapons to bear. Once the army was far enough away from their dimensional bolt-holes Taylor could cut off their escape and provide an anvil the threat could be smashed upon.
And with the majority of them gone, they would have the time to study the pocket-dimension technology that had protected the Machine Army from the US simply bombing them out of the picture.
But for now, all the Skitarii could do was carry on destroying the enemy in front of them. Something that was occupying all of their attention.
…
Fortunately for everyone involved, Taylor had access to the cold calculation logic of both the Mechanicus and the Necrons. With the right mindset, she could accurately predict the Machine Army's thought processes. A benefit refined as she watched her soldiers fight them and the reactions to such.
So when the time came, nearly thirty minutes after the mortar rounds decimated the outer portions of the force, she wasn't surprised when buildings in the former town started collapsing. From windows, through walls and in a tide of steel the Machine Army poured from their strong points heading towards her people.
Sending them a quick warning she prepared her parts of the plan. First, three Imperial Knights stomped through portals to provide backup for the Skitarii. Next, her three children prepared to step through portals of their own and cut off the escape.
The logical engines that formed the minds of the murderous AI had clearly realised that the attacking forces already in play would not be enough. At the same time, they were unable to gather larger forces in one place without being in range of the devastating mortar batteries. That severely cut down on the options for killing the intruders. And they did have to die, the very basics of the programs demanded it.
Alternative assault options were considered, but the Army did not have any significant aerial assets. Nor would going underground work, due to the highly rocky nature of the defensive point chosen. That just left one huge sweeping wave of an attack. Dense enough to get through the direct fire of the Skitarii, but spread out enough that the mortar batteries wouldn't reap an untenable toll.
As soon as the army started pouring out, Taylor was calculating trajectories and firing the mortar batteries as fast as they could be loaded. The thundering boom of their detonations became a repetitive backdrop to the soundless charge of the machines. The ground became so much mulch as the rounds tore into anything near their target. Hundreds of machines were shredded with each blast, but the plan the Machine Army had gone with ensured thousands more streamed over the land.
Strictly speaking, the mortar bombardment shouldn't be necessary. Between them, the knights and Titans would be enough to destroy the threat. Especially as the Titans would start breaking the code of the Machine Army down as soon as they appeared. But the shelling was expected, if it failed to appear the Army could assume their adversary had a different trick ready for them and change tactics.
Sure, they might decide the humans had no more ammunition and carry on, but it was an unnecessary risk.
Patiently waiting and watching until the tide of machines had moved beyond the confines of the town, Taylor hit the go order as soon as the stragglers were clear.
Instantly, her children opened portals to step through, one facing the town, two facing the visible enemy. At the same time, her remote-piloted knights stepped through their own portals to add firepower to the Skitarii.
Lances, Heavy Bolters and Melta cannons boiled the air with devastating power. The very hills and fields of Eagleton shattered under the onslaught and the Machine Army stalled in electronic shock at this new development.
The Skiatrii and Mechanicus forces did not fail to take advantage of this, hammering into the foe with furious hatred for the robots that rebelled and murdered the entire town and countless unknowing travellers before the exclusion zone was put in place.
In the two minutes that followed the opening shot, thousands of the machines were obliterated. And during all of that time, Mettalum Olympus was analysing their code, filtering and breaking the protections on their mind and learning everything they could about their abilities and thoughts.
It wasn't enough to destroy the physical bodies the Machine Army threw at their opponents. They needed to destroy the intelligence that gave birth to them. Something that was well hidden in the pocket dimensions those bodies had previously sheltered in.
This was the reason the PRT had been entirely unable to remove the Machine Army from Eagleton. Not just because of the power and destructive abilities required to get through the assault machines, but the need to then breakdown the digital work before any more bodies could be created.
Once the physical bodies in the army were destroyed, the knights strode away from the Skitarii bunkers and joined the trio of Titans. The Skitarii themselves started working their way through the battlefield. Void grenades and shells were thrown or fired into every inch of ground the machines had occupied. The pieces were reduced to less than atomic flurry as the men and women ensured the army would never rise again.
All in all, the battle took less than three minutes from the point that the entire Machine Army charged. The clean-up took nearly an hour all told.
With that done, Jason and Helen took a Necron skimmer and headed over to whoever was in charge of the army and PRT forces for the zone. They would need to speak to them to ensure no-one tried to enter before the threat could be properly removed.
Closing Note: Just to reiterate the opening note a bit. My Word has been torturously slow at the moment. As in I can watch the letters appear for a few minutes after typing. So I haven't had the patience to clean things up when it takes so long. Hopefully I can sort that over the next few days.
Finally, posting this on Christmas Eve. I hope where ever you are you can find something to bring you joy and happiness during this time. Have a Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year, or a wonderful time in what matters to you.
Ankoth.