Debauchery Worlds 45 (Patreon)

Commissioned by Southmonk

Debauchery Worlds

Chapter 45

-VB-

Heather Budenburg

Cylene II, Draconis Combine

2981.12.25

Even though she was aboard a ship, fighting mechs on the ground still felt like she was there.

The pods that the Marris Mercenaries used for her and other Dropper mech pilots was that well simulated. She could feel her mech’s balance and the terrain underneath its feet as if she was walking with her own shoes. How? Every time the mech’s feet was even slightly off balance, then she would feel it in her own feet. 

She wasn’t running inside her pod by any means, but having that kind of information available to her at all times made it seem like she was much more in tune with her Dropper. 

And that advantage was sorely needed when her mech was lighter and shorter than Locusts. 

She glared at her screen, which spanned almost all of her vision inside the pod, and at the Panther mech she and her squad was shooting at. 

The view on the screen bobbed up and down as she spun around the Panther while it tried to keep backpedaling to avoid surrounded on all sides. Her plasma shotgun barked out, muffled as it was for her, and burned at its thighs. 

It turned to attack her but that only left it open to attack from her squadmate. The squadmate’s Dropper mech carried a classic small laser, which looked comically large on the Dropper’s six meter frame, and shot it at the Panther’s lower back. This didn’t dissuade the Panther mechwarrior, though, and they shot its ER Large Laser mounted on its right arm right at her. 

Heather … just stopped as soon as she saw that thing pointing at her. The sudden speed change brought her out of the line of attack of the laser even before it fired and then it fired, punching right into the asphalt and concrete road. 

She then charged the Dropper forward, making its bulbous body bulldoze forward on its spindly legs and arms, and fired again as soon as the recharge timer showed green on her GUI. With the “ksshBAM,” the bark of her shotgun found hits again on the Panther’s leg, and this time, the Panther collapsed as its internal myomers finally burned away. No longer able to control its left leg, the Panther lurched.

That’s when another one of her squadmates jumped forward into a tackle … and grabbed the left leg. 

She reached out to in a hurry and grabbed the leg and pulled. 

Left the stand unbalanced on one leg and getting its other leg pulled, the Panther mechwarrior couldn’t aim at all, especially when her other squadmates joined in on the action. One of them even tackled the Panther’s right leg. 

That bent the knee forward, and finally the Panther came crashing down. 

She let go of the leg and immediately jumped on top of the Panther’s shoulder. 

“Crack it open!” she shouted into her squad’s comms, and they rushed in.

“You honorless curs! Is this how-?!” 

Jack, one of her squadmates, just walked up on top of the Panther and fired his plasma shotgun at the cockpit. The whining Combine mechjock’s words cut off immediately. 

“Finally, some peace,” he grunted as he got off. “Alright. Let’s tag this and move on!” 

Tagging, as it had been explained by her instructors and superiors back on David II, was how they got extra pay.

All pilots were paid a minimum pay per battle on top of the monthly pay. A battle could last an hour or a week but no more than that. Any further battle would be classified as its own separate event for her pay. Tagging a mech downed or destroyed by her or her squad would be immediately recorded and filed, and the pay calculated using the mech’s tonnage. 

If they downed enough mechs, then they would be able to get themselves a much higher pay than most green mechwarriors would earn. 

But there was a catch.

Because she did not own the mech she operated, any significant loss - including the destruction of the mech - would saddle her with a debt. 

With how well they were doing so far, she didn’t see herself getting a debt any time soon. 

But more than that, she was proving herself to be a capable mechwarrior, even if she was not directly in the cockpit of a “real” mech. 

Once her squad leader ensured that the mech was tagged, they moved onto their next objective deeper inside the city. 

Similar scenes played out all across Cylene II’s capital city. 

The same could not be said for the planet’s major military camps and installations. 

-VB-

Alan Marris

Cylene II

2981.12.25

“So you will not surrender?” I asked for the final time. “You have to see that I am infinitely more generous than your so-called Coordinator,” I drawled. “I don’t execute people for failing against a force they had little to no chance of winning against.”

“Then you do not understand us at all,” the grim-faced general with a burn scar over his bald head replied. “A samurai does not betray his lord.”

I snorted. “I would trust a ninja over a samurai,” I replied before cutting off the call. 

My clones operating the Stomatas slowly turned their noses down toward the military installations, regardless of where they were on the planet. Some of the Stomatas were still in atmosphere while one was in orbit over the biggest military base. 

I tried to negotiate. It’s their fault for not accepting it. 

“Fire,” I uttered for effect. 

As one, six MACs across the invasion theater fired in unison. Of the six, the first to strike was at the edge of the planetary capital, and the MAC round utterly disintegrated the base, the bunker that the general was hiding in, and all of the equipment that was still there. 

The second, third, and fourth struck at smaller installations with good anti-air defense. Those bases would no longer pose a threat to my fighters. 

Then the fifth struck the governor’s palace that was outside the city. It was some sort of grand manor with thick walls and its own garrison. 

And finally, the last round struck the largest military base and cratered everything in a kilometer diameter. 

And just like that, the highest leadership of Cylene II’s militia and garrisoned whatever Dieron-Benjamin-whatever regulars was dead. 

As soon as they finished that, those same Stomatas turned their noses to space and flew up to go to their next destination along with two of the Irotryoshka carriers. 

To secure Cylene for myself, I needed to ensure that Combine’s closest worlds were incapable of military operation.

I needed the (midlly) salt the earth on Markab and Skat.