Chapter 11: Broken Goods
Early Morning of the Next Day
(Shores of Niigata)
Recommended Music: Battle 2, Shin Megami Tensei Strange Journey.
Smooth yellowish white claims the horizon over the waves, that come and go, rocking back and forth as if in a carousel. Desolated was the inert soil, far more the sea, but the breeze seems to wish and sparkle a small joy to the morning of November despite the chill
It is a fine, bright morning. Warmth that soon won't reach the land enjoys its early shift, as if knowing what skirts closer below the waves.
"Valkyrie Mum to all units!" Haruka reports, opening a line. "The Ocean Defense Line has been breached! Prepare to engage at any second. The MDF Naval Platoon will be sending missiles towards the shore as the BETA surface, remain in your current position until the bombardment has ceased," she tells, in sharp contrast with the day's weather, although not for long.
"Valkyrie 1, roger that. One to all! Assume formation, remember that we are here only to thin their numbers and capture some live specimens. Don't go doing anything crazy!"
"Roger!" All answered in unison.
A slow rumble tickles their machines, forcing the OS to keep their firm posture. A round of cheering beeps from the radar, missiles just about to hit. As the Destroyers paint wings on the water with their rush and bring a min tsunami along them, a whirlwind of fire ravages and dries the shoreline. Multiple tornadoes made of blazes scorch the BETA, only to be followed by giant explosions.
The mixed bombing approach had proven effective for the IJA, and a small tip from an unknown source had their bases and carriers at the ready for the occasion. First drop the heavy incendiary bombs, to burn the squishy and fragile Destroyers, then the explosive ones hit the rest, to deal with their overwhelming numbers with the great AoE of the explosions.
"Valkyrie 1 to all units! March forward!"
A low roar is drowned by the one from the boosters, arrows flying headfirst at the BETA.
In a galloping tempo the Shiranuis swerve and pour through the cracks in the formation, hitting and slashing at legs and bodies. Sometimes a spurt of blood gushes out, sometimes shells take the brunt of the hits. Veering along the small dunes, hopping down behind carcasses. As the prior pristine skyline is bathed in dark, the sun withdrawing its offerings, a larger shaking runs through the ground.
"Commence Phase Two!" Isumi orders, her machine taking out another rifle and dropping an already spent dagger.
As small squads of infantry depart from the far away support vehicles alongside containers with a liquid of dubious origin, the STF holds its ground together and begins clearing a path to the shore.
And yet, the ante is raised. The ground as well.
Hands of crimson raise for their ankles, jaws sprawling open below.
"Valkyrie 8, 9, remain in position! Do not spread your angle!" Isumi scolds, yet Akane and Tsukiji remain firing as if on automatic.
Teeth fused, too hard to separate. Limbs locked on their duty, awash in petrification.
A solid posture as frozen as the odd head-like appendage from the Grapplers that jump and hop their way, plunging and piercing the ground. Grazing their armor, their skin, too closer, closer with every repetition. And as if it were a competition, the endless tide swarms over their fallen fellows, the rampart of corpses serving little more than a minimal delay.
"Let's go off the lasers then! The quicker the better!"
"You tell them, Senpai!"
"Three, Four! Do not break forma- Dammit! Two, remain-"
"I know, leave them to me!" Hayase frantically nods, breathing in reverse while trying to catch up to the other two vanguards.
What meager light still fell on them is obstructed, denied as Forts claim the shore and begin to surround the Shiranuis. Even if a few stumble down under localized fire to their legs, even if the stingers miss and melt the sand. Even then, that does not prevent that alarm from drowning all else.
Those small, stubby shapes, those large eyes. Blinking once or twice, scuttling forward and tilting their heads about the dark smoke clouds pervading all. Before letting brightest light pierce it all, aiming for one Shiranui. Only for more darkness to emerge, as another jumps right in front.
For a second, or half of it really, all those presently fighting are frozen as not even figments or shards remain of their comrade, erased by the light.
"D-Daikuuji, we have to retreat!" Hayase warns, already backboosting.
Unlike the other Shiranui, with both guns forward and blazing through whirlwinds of gray. "Fuck off! This is for Mayu, you pieces of shiiiiiit!" she screams, firing off all of her ammo.
And yet, that too is soon diluted to dust amidst shining threads. Those same ropes constrict over the skies, tying it all up in eccentric angles, flashing on and off tension as if in the middle of a rave.
"Mum to One! We've finished capturing some specimens! I repeat, we finished capturing our allotted specimens! Evacuate immediately, IJA forces are soon to arrive."
"One to Mum, copy that!" she says, gritting her teeth as she deactivates part of her functions, letting inertia due its job to cascade her mech down a dune, away from an onslaught. A quick boot-up back to usual has a rush slicing limbs and heads off, much as those nearby had done in sync. "Valkyries, we're retreating! Mission's over!"
"W-Wait, Captain! Hayase is still not back!" Akane complains, trying and failing to aim her shots well enough to clear a path.
"Valkyrie Six, Seven! Report your status!" Isumi asks, gathering all the fresh pilots around her to ward off the Red Zone and letting the catapult in eyes and fingers fire off with gusto.
All steam goes poof the second her radar updates, her heartbeats too when the glitched voice slurs through the distortion in their comms.
"Eiko! Can you hear me?!" Kazama shouts, breathing more ragged than her daggers as she strikes and hacks at Tanks surrounding her comrade.
"T-Touko, I… I can't feel my legs… I'm done for, get out of here," a whisper barely slips through, before pitless coughing claims the throat.
"Valkyries Six and Seven, report your status!"
"Two right here, ma'am!" Hayase says, wincing in the projection, landing atop a Tank. "Seven took a direct impact from a Destroyer, its upper torso is lying on the ground. Six is unharmed, and so am I."
"I see… Two, Six," taking in a sharp breath, tasting acid herself, Isumi nods to the visors, "put Seven out of her misery. We must retreat at once."
"W-What?" Touko asks, widening features going past natural limits, the rims breaking to dampness. "C-Captain, her vitals are still stable! I am right besides her unit, it shan't take-"
"We do not have the time, and you will get surrounded if we dally!"
"Captain, requesting permission to assist-"
"Denied," Isumi glares at Munakata in the projection, gritting her own teeth. "We cannot move out from here, the corpses are our lifeline. Hayase is still there, biding her time. We must wait for the right time, else we become target practice for the Lasers."
"H-However, at this rate, they'll be overrun," Takahara interjects, eyes wide and twitching.
"Even if only for long range support, please let us help them!" Asakura joins in, shaking more than her machine as it fires off non-stop against the Grapplers to a side.
"We must make our death count if it comes down to it, isn't it ma'am?!" Akane asks, munching
Groaning as she takes a glance at the radar, at the distance and time available. Realizing the numbers return in red. That her own infantry troops would be left wide open, and on the radars of the army. Smacks at the common channel to reach Hayase proves futile under the distortion of the heavy metals in the air, ordering Kazama to retreat incites further ignorance of said commands. More does her abuse of the controls rise when the fresh pilots stumble words and tactics, for a moment her finger lingers above the button to apply further hypnotherapy. Swallowing her own bile the narrow way it came, a small moment to curse at herself lets Isumi regain the front of the formation, attempting to devise a path forward.
And closer and closer, the Forts come. And closer and closer, the edge of the lasers. Mixing in sulfur and acidic blood, the remains they hide behind are assaulted, lines vanishing.
Except one, as a blue dot of hers blasts off into the herd.
"What the… Lupine, what do you think you're doing?! Return to the formation!" Isumi fires off, seeing the black Gekishin that had been guarding the rear not listen to a thing.
"The more time we waste, the worse the BETA's numbers become. We must retrieve Six and Seven posthaste!" the glitchy mess of a voice snaps back, as blazing as the barrels cutting into the red spiders.
"This is insubordination, we cannot- Ugh!" the fumes aiding her tempo, what few Tanks wished to prey upon her shadow finds only the comfort of the soil. "Six, Seven's vitals are plummeting. There is nothing we can do at this point."
"Captain, please, at least allow me to take Eiko back with-"
"Get a grip, Kazama! We cannot linger any longer, and you should have the visuals. There is… nothing to be done, it's our duty to complete our mission."
"C-Captain… Cough!" a battered whisper comes through, buried under dryness. "Listen to the Captain, Touko… I'm done for, anyways. Shoot… Shoot my S-11, please…"
"H-However, your suit's numbers- They're not-"
Fire breaks out around them, BETA steak flying off as Tanks and infantry classes fall to an overhead shadow, rolling and landing above the flames. Giving no time for Hayase or Kazama to piece together what happened, the curtain of blazes is cut in twain, literally, along a few BETA. In more clean strokes the field is plowed, the dark shadow marching forward in a steady rhythm.
"Six, I'll buy you enough time. Remove Seven from the cockpit immediately!" the glitch orders, before launching itself into the herd, and causing Kazama to just as quickly follow the command.
"Lupine, you're interfering with command!" Isumi repines, struggling to advance amidst the strays along the rest.
"I'm not, all I'm doing is keeping my comrades alive. That's all."
Tapping a few buttons, flicking a switch or two, a private line is established with the black Gekishin in question, allowing the collapsing sand to flow out. "This isn't the battlefield where someone of your skill should die. We are better served to marshal our troops and retreat before the losses continue."
Surfacing to avoid a stinger, hovering and swerving aside, skinning a Grappler in the process, the distorted voice slows down. "…I'm not intending to die. I know I can do this, ma'am."
"This is not the time nor the place for such juvenile conduct. If you're intent on proving your OS's superiority then leave that for the trainings. If Six opens the cockpit, she won't rest until Seven is taken care of. Will you listen to me?! Lupine, retreat back to formation!"
"And what about protecting our comrades, ma'am? I won't let anyone else die here, not again. I won't run away like a coward again!"
"Listen to me! Sometimes, there is nothing to be done. It is the nature of the military. All you can do is stymie your losses. The S-11s are there for a reason, as a way for all of us to make our deaths count. It is… all a dead soldier can do, after all." The only thing, the only comfort to leave to the others who take up the torch in your stead. Even when those of us now standing… may not measure up to the mantle entrusted to us.
And yet, while Isumi and the others were slowing down upon a clearing the Gekishin is on the other end of the pendulum.
"…All a dead soldier can do?"
As the Forts' tilting heads blocked the clouds nearby and all boosters heat up more than the pleads for Kazama to make haste, the Valkyries' guts almost entangled and pushed out by their own will. By the echoes of the melting acids edging closer and closer, the gurgling tinctures almost taste-through on their lips.
"…Making death count?"
It lasts only a mere second, however, for one of those towers soon begins to tilt in full. Much like the Valkyries' minds, that is, when seeing the searing red surrounding the lone blue dot.
Only then, a small twister races through the gale. A forced oscillating pattern turning damp, strafing soon meeting the ground, grinding on it for another jump into a cyclone of blades. From each and every little nick on the skin pours the liquid, falling onto the aliens below, steam and sulfur raising as goo is all that's left.
"I'm done with that shit! I rather despair after I'm dead!"
And along that declaration, those two boosters hovered barely over the ground before fully awakening into an eruption. An eruption that lighted the acid up, galloping flames consuming the Tanks, the Grapplers, the infantry. And the Fort from within, threads and wisps of blazes popping off the body like a kettle left uncaringly above the fire.
Short of stopping, the gliding shadow aims for its next victim, shrieking pained and dry lungs out.
And causes Isumi to gasp, bracing back to form. "One to all available units! Aim all ammo at the Forts' legs, immobilize their advance! If we align them up, the flames will do the rest of the work for us!"
"Roger!"
In less than second, an arrow rain falls upon the appendages of the Forts, that still try and advance, try and sting that little shadow roving their lower sides, spreading hellfire with the tail-end of the boosters.
"Lupine, you've done enough! Pull back, leave the rest to us!" Isumi orders, seeing the growing numbers in red of the unit and pilot on her visor.
Yet her words fell on deaf ears, swallowed by salt. Salt that rose to obscure the sun, much like today.
With each spin and backflip, a small piece of armor falls off, flies off, melts away before even touching the toxic goo permeating the ground. On every whiff of the boosters, of every rising fire wall faces linger and claw at him.
"Y-You better tell them… how awesome I was, you got it?!" a voice gurgles out through acidic pain, blue eyes smirking through the wincing.
Despite the strain on breath and muscles, further and further the Gekishin flies. Almost stumbling, the lower heels bitten inwards by acid. And yet, a lightning bolt for strafing, the oscillation remains unchallenged, landing on the aliens and forcing them into becoming a new brand of soda.
"Hey, come on now… Do not cry, you're a man are you not?" a rasp lowly tells, nodding halfway while attempting and failing to properly salute.
Yet the gagging continues, unable yet to shed tears. Unable to tear off the band-aid, unwilling to cauterize the wound. Because there are some costs that are not wise to pay, fights that are better to not take to the last moment. And deaths that, no matter how tactical, cannot be replaced with any material gain.
How enthralling it is to see, the forced oscillation turning damp, the sharp strafing elongating into patterns and dances with the embers lusting for his skin. How the typhoon of red emerges around with each hack and slash and gun blast to muting screams, yet at the very bottom it holds such a fluffy yellow and pink core.
Lost in an all too similar recollection, the shadow does not stop its hunt until only it stands above the remnants, with the smoke of battle as its cloak. Despite the plating being very much gone, inner cables almost see-through. Wilting to the bone, tendons exposed, slicing and opening wide like a flower. Because only victory is allowed. If merely surviving was a success, then Babylon would have been sung praises by everyone.
Only that inside it is not steel what cracks and fades, what fuels the backflips and sharp spins, the dead-eye precision of every strike to sever limbs right off the joints with every strike of each limb.
Lost in the thickened clouds where heavy metals devour laser irradiation mixed in with the evaporating substance from the acid, the otherwise punished Gekishin continues its onslaught to the chorus of shocks coursing through its pilot.
As if roots mingled with his feet with every kick he sends to sink Tanks.
Or many, many hairs had sprawled over his arms, when bending them both backwards into a reverse hold, into a twister sending waves of gore far beyond the clouds.
Perhaps the same tendrils that within hurt in dark have come out to play, along the blankness of the rage that sways beneath and about, slicing and dicing, dancing to the tune of carnage, of revenge.
However, unlike the prior time when like this Takeru felt, the shimmering light around him did not welcome nor soothe at all. These crimson fireflies laugh and cackle as they cloud over him, from him, from every crack. Rather than giving, these lights were instead taking away. Much like the last flicker of light from a candle, before it fades to ash.
Before the cracks slither to the neck, tickling and circling around it. The laughter doubles, so do the red sparks. A figure towers of his sight, cold and sharp sensations choking, and choking. Once sweet eyes rest on him, along not yet blunted steel.
"…All I ask is your forgiveness."
"There is nothing to forgive."
No more eyes.
No more ground.
No more ears.
It burns, his neck. It burns, so much. And yet it soon is so cold.
But the red continues to cackle, cracking at his chest.
A sharp gulp, lips remain parted yet fail to scream or take in air as a stab compresses his heart and each hairpin of blood in his body.
And it is only through the sharp boost of Isumi that the Gekishin does not end up face-first on the acid as the lines of red crack right around his heart, compulsing all lights out of him.
"Damn it… Why did you refuse to retreat? Two, lead the way back. I'll take Lupine with me!" she orders, grappling the withering remains of the TSF.
"Already on it, ma'am!" Hayase quickly replies, who along Munakata plows through what few strays remain close by to allow the rest to blast off as violently as the black Gekishin had ravished the Forts moments before.
Molding their backs to their seats, their heartbeats knocking on their throats, for a moment the Valkyries only boost and boost, everything blurring away. Green dots skirt close to their radar, but in the end are more busy with the newly surfacing horde of BETA.
And yet they don't lift the heels off the metal. Not when a few strays try and ram into their machines, quickly shot and stunned away. Not when the explosions grow distant, nor when the ground returns to normal, or even the sky showers them in a cloak of sunlight. From the distant heights, those threads of light serve only to heighten the patches, the spots cracked open in the frames, melting frames of the machines.
The extraction winds up uneventful, save for the forceful hypnotherapy provided to the juniors and Kazama. Away from the battle, unseen and unnoticed, the supply vehicles try and line up the machines to depart. Except one, that Isumi watches over herself.
Softly cupping the cheek, dry and reddened, causes her to dry her own inner cheeks. What faint pulse comes through the suit at least allows her to swallow that lump blockaded her breath.
"Someone with such a clear death wish should not be given a rifle and told to march. To not retreat in front of such odds, to persevere only to save one person, to push himself and his craft to inhuman levels in front of so many Forts…"
Old days come to mind, days of equally appalling fights, equally appalling odds. Equally appalling weight on her hands, on the missing pieces of the board. On all those hands erased from the wall, their outlines living only within her mind.
"I could understand Hayase or Kazama, Munakata even. But someone so young, fighting as you do… What are you carrying on your shoulders, boy?"
Removing the bolts slowly. Wrapping an arm under his, resting the weight fully onto her body before procuring the helmet. As gradual as the passage of the clouds above, with that same slowness the undoing of the bindings, the checks of the armor. The breaths and heartbeats, the fruits of wilting trees she failed to see to blooming.
"You seem to be about Akira's age, and yet you move like a monster. To employ your body as a shield without hesitation… What exactly are you compensating for?"
And no answers does Isumi find, not in the tight sleeping complexion, not in the erratic numbers from his suit that do not match up with the unnatural and blood-starved patterns he employed. Not in his blood either, showing no hint of drugs or stimulants. Nothing on his body, no augmentations, no cyborg parts.
His checkups on the private ride, with only her allowed in the medbay on this occasion, reveal nothing but a young man. With weak pulse and apparently a lack of energy, but just a normal young man.
The colossal bonfires the Forts became, however, would beg to write another tale entirely. For if fire could tickle the sky, then the army wouldn't be stalling for a solution after so long.
By the end of the checkups, all Isumi can do is hang her head in between her arms and sigh, letting the coldness poke and rub at her back, in slow shivers.
"I wouldn't be able to deliver another letter to whoever is waiting for you out there. Not like I've a right to spew empty consolations when I am still so insufficient to my troop… Your exquisite piloting aside, your resemblance to those line-piercing doctrines aside…" reaching out for a hand of his, it so, so cold to the touch. "If there is one thing I can promise you as my subordinate, is that I won't allow you to turn into another Reaper," she says, rubbing her cheek with her other hand, recalling a strikingly similar outburst she heard, from an equally deadly pilot.