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Chapter 46 (YEAR 2052)
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Games of Invictus Chapter 47 (YEAR 2052)
Report: Quinn The irradiated remains of Moscow. Russia. A radioactive "exclusion zone". Neutral territory, until now. God, did my hands ever hurt. The duct tape pulled at the burns on my palms as I swerved like a madman to avoid enemy fire. I closed the distance fast, long-range missiles pockmarking the ground behind me. If the pilots of the artillery mechs had been truly good at their jobs they would've led their shots, but the violent beginnings of the Iron War had chewed up most of the veterans. Now it was inexperienced pilots like us left to end it. The long-range missiles kept missing and I kept swerving, closing the distance until I blew past Taewi Park's Predator and-was that a Xiezhi? "Hey, Taewi!" I called. "How goes the battle?" "That's as good a distraction as any!" Martin shouted. "Push now!" I continued forward, my one remaining plasma launcher and brand new railgun firing continuously. I heard a loud hum above my head. I snuck a glance upward as I ran and the s
Games of Invictus Chapter 48 (YEAR 2052)
Report: Fisk The Nevada Desert. Arizona. Axion manufacturing base. Designation: "The Forge" The door to my office slid open with a quiet hiss, flooding the room with dim light from the hallway outside. The shadow made a perfect rectangular shape on my floor. This pleased me. The interruption did not. "Director Fisk, sir?" I sat up, taking my eyes off the console I had been watching. I cleared my throat. "Yes, soldier?" A young man stood before me, tan military uniform infuriatingly dishevelled. He was clearly one of the newer folks here in Nevada, shipped in only a month before. The man's brown military crew-cut was slowly growing back, neglected due to stress, and a five' o'clock shadow darkened his tanned skin. His green eyes darted around the room in a nervous motion, scanning for my reaction. Even his stubble was lopsided. I tried to push the annoyance from my mind. The soldier seemed nervous. Scared, even. A pity, considering the man had nothing to fear. He was worth
Games of Invictus Chapter 49 (YEAR 2052)
Report: Quinn Just off the coast of Nova Scotia. Canada. Alliance home base. Designation: "The Firmament" The sounds of laughter filled the Firmament's hollow interior, bouncing through the metal tube from its shining top to its watery base. Most of the Firmament's crew was packed onto the mezzanine level-a mezzanine only in name, being located on one of the highest levels of the tower. The mezz was where stories were shared, friends were made and, most importantly, meals were eaten. While most platforms occupied about half of the total circumference of the Firmament's massive interior, the mezz filled the entire space, spanning from end to end, save for a large hole in the middle. This donut-shaped design was quite intentional-it allowed light from the domed ceiling to reach the rest of the Firmament evenly, and could provide a narrow escape route for dropships in case of emergencies. Compared to the stark metal design of many of the lower floors, this platform was downright h
Games of Invictus Chapter 50 (YEAR 2052)
The alarm began twenty minutes after our toast, ringing out through the Firmament's cavernous interior. The alarm was met without panic, but with a great deal of annoyance-it was no emergency, merely a call to a mandatory meeting for all pilots. It was high time for a debrief, I supposed. Twenty-five minutes after our toast was when the real panic started. "Attention all citizens," the announcement began. "My name is Director Draco Fisk, and this is a public broadcast from Axion Industries with the approval of the United States Government." A projector had been set up in the main hangar level, casting a screen onto the smooth surface of a nearby wall. We were all seated in the briefing area in a nervous manner, chattering amongst ourselves. The room quieted as the video continued. The man before us on screen was clean-shaven and grim, his black and white suit a stark contrast against the grey backdrop of an office. Blue eyes, blond hair with only a wisp of grey. He looked like a s
Games of Invictus Chapter 51 (YEAR 2052)
Lucas raised a finger. "How, exactly, did he figure that out?" "I was stupid," Dan grimaced. "I put too much of my old Axion designs into the Prowler. Draco knows my style better than anyone, and in my arrogance, I made a mech that resembled an old Axion design I never got around to building." "So, what now?" The voice belonged to Commander Telbus. He stood with Dan near the front of the room, next to Mallet and a few other commanders. Mallet gave Martin a curt nod. "For now, we resume operations as usual." Mallet's gaze shifted around the room once more. "We're going to make a supply run next," she announced. "Government finance is tight and we desperately need new IRON chips. Black market dealers are willing to sell us shipments, but the prices are getting higher as Axion cracks down on knockoff chip-makers." Another murmur swept the room. It was true, then, that we were low on IRON chips. That meant that it likely wasn't just my supply that had been half-empty. "There is a
Games of Invictus Chapter 52 (YEAR 2052)
"You've got to be kidding me." I stared up in horror at the mech before me. Daylight shone through the glass dome high above, tinted grey by the cloudy Atlantic weather. In the trench far below, the choppy, gunmetal grey sea mirrored the colourless sky. Light bounced off the mech that hung before me, the replacement for my Prowler. A Crusader. I threw up my hands in disbelief. The mech was the smallest of the two British models. Like the Crusader used by Martin, the mech's frame resembled the armour of a knight, titanium plating spreading upward into a squat cockpit and broad, sloping shoulders. The entire mech seemed hunched forward and unbalanced, protected only by the thick lead shield it held in front of it. Upon closer inspection, the shield hung on a track attached to the mech's right shoulder and could slide in and out of position at will to allow for mobility and adaptability. My concern was that this shield was the mech's only defence mechanism. Without its shield, the C
Games of Invictus Chapter 53 (YEAR 2052)
Ahead of us, the two other dropships faded into oblivion, camouflaged. We were an invisible convoy on a much-needed errand. Lucas pushed my feet aside and thumbed a button on the console. The hum from the nuclear reactor deadened slightly. "Adaptive camouflage activated and nuclear signal masked," he grinned. "We are off the radar both physically and electronically." He leaned back in his seat. "Now we wait." Behind me, Kitt sighed dramatically. "Are we there yet?" "I'll toss you from the hangar and you can swim home," Lucas glowered. In reality, the trip from Canada to Italy would take no time at all. The dropship, when pushed to its absolute limit, could fly several times faster than sound. At minimum, it could comfortably fly faster than even the most powerful pre-war airplane. The dropship's stealth, combined with its speed, made the transport easily deadlier than the fighter jets of old, though less maneuverable. Had someone decided to strap weapons to one of these, the Iro
Games of Invictus Chapter 54 (YEAR 2052)
Report: Quinn The interior of a dropship. Three-hundred feet above sea level. International airspace. Seventy minutes later our dropship was once again cruising over the Russian countryside. A massive, concrete dam dominated the eastern horizon, watching over a winding riverbed like a silent guardian. The once-pristine river was a dry trench in the ground, dividing the landscape in half. On the south bank of the river sat a farm, an old agricultural center abandoned years ago. A field of various crops swayed in the breeze, now too overgrown and irradiated to be remotely safe to eat. A small farmhouse sat abandoned next to a ring of rusting metal silos. The northern shore of the river was home to the Stalnoy mining district, a patchwork grid of rusty metal depots and tall buildings slicing into the sky. Two bridges jutted out of the district like arms, clutching the opposite side of the river. Crumbling concrete ramps lead down towards the riverbed at various intervals, boat laun
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