Chapter 31
Look at me being so cocky. I smiled to myself, almost proud that I’d managed to master the arrogance and machismo of my environment. I was increasingly in awe of my devolution of emotional regulation and intelligence more and more every day.
“Hooo boy, today is going to be fun,” Breaker exclaimed with unsettling excitement as he gave me his customary way too hard pat.
“Hey Vann, do you mind waiting an extra minute or two before you blow up Elio this time? I was so sad that I missed it last time, and I want to be around for the spectacle,” he added next, loudly enough for the whole room to hear.
All eyes on me, and all of that alleged pride and arrogance and confidence vanished as I tried to shrink under the collective gazes of the other men.
“What the hell are you doing?” I hissed under my breath.
The last thing in this whole-wide-gas giant world that I needed was to piss off Elio right before an evaluation.
Sure, I only needed one hundred ranks, and sure every tangle with him moved me up by leaps and bounds, but that was because I’d had time to show my capabilities before it all went south.
Now that I was so close, and the next boost would literally kick someone else out of a coveted Shinka ranking, I couldn’t afford to get blown up early in the game.
If I’d learned anything about his temper, it was that he would not only stoop that low, but he would do it with a smirk on his face.
And I was just thinking about how Breaker was a good friend, too.
“Hey Firefly, do you need me to protect you? It looks like Vann here is out for your blood.” His tone was mischievous and mocking, while my face blanched in ghostly mortification.
Why? Whyyyyyyyy.
Elio’s brow twitched, and the glint of his piercings twitching with it only made the movement look more dangerous.
“He beat Captain Marx?” One of the guys beside me whispered to the man at his left with bewilderment.
“What the hell? He can’t even do proper sit-ups.” Someone else in the peanut gallery responded.
Now my brow was the one twitching.
I can do sit-ups just fine when I’m not broken, thank you very much.
“Marx isn’t denying it so it must be true. I’d steer clear of him,” a third member from our unimpressive audience felt it necessary to add. They were all whispering, but the locker room had gone dead silent since Breaker’s little announcement, so it wasn’t like anyone couldn’t hear them.
Breaker laughed for show, then he leaned over to whisper in my ear. “You’ll thank me later, Pipsqueak.”
Another brutal, bruising pat, this time on the ass, and he headed out to the VR station. I just remained frozen, half dressed, half terrified, waiting for this to all blow up on me.
Elio said nothing. He dressed in his Imperium suit, and he walked out of the locker room. No haste, no delay, no words, no obvious emotion. He offered absolutely no reaction beyond a singular eye twitch, and I didn’t know what to do with that, other than fear for my life.
I swallowed thickly, then finished putting on my suit. I looked over my shoulder every few steps as I headed to my VR pod, then I climbed into the cockpit, still just waiting for something to go wrong.
Maybe one of them planted a bomb in here.
No, VR pods were randomly assigned. He wouldn’t even know which one was mine. He couldn’t have sabotaged me.
What did Breaker mean I’d thank him later? Like, I’d thank him when I showed up at Basics tomorrow and all of my ribs were broken, so my pain would be more balanced? Yeah, I’d be totally grateful for that. Great idea. Thanks.
Letting any of them get under my skin was pointless. I had this one last evaluation to pass, and then I’d be able to get my real Shinka, where I could shut everyone up. That was all I needed.
I locked into position, I took a deep breath, and I entered the simulation.
Coordinates were delivered immediately, and I sped straight into the mission.
“Today’s evaluation will be something a bit more complex, mirroring a real life battle from the last war.
” The voice of Professor Kitagawa filled my COMM line immediately upon materializing in the server.
“As you may or may not know, during the Star Crossed conflict, one of the strategies we employed that ultimately felled the Empire of Gehenna was creating the Mors Voluntaria Squadron. Typically these units were unmanned and piloted via a remote operator, with the intent of self-destruction or bomb transport, but for the sake of this exercise, you have been personally equipped with the bomb, and will be delivering and detonating it at the objective point.” Say what now.
“There are twenty other units on your server, all of which will act as enemy drones, trying to keep you from reaching the base. Your goal is to evade, survive, and execute. Casualties are encouraged. Now please stand by as the server is populated, and the mission will begin.”
I froze for what was likely only seconds longer than a standard blink, while that information was processed through my mind at a breakneck pace.
If the server was being actively populated, that meant that the only people who would be in this one were those who made it to the mission portal first. Short of the occasional flukes, that just about always meant the highest ranked pilots, including people like Elio, Sebastian, maybe even Breaker…
I was about to be the baby gazelle in a den of the most powerful lions at Astaroth, and even if I somehow evaded them all—which was exceedingly unlikely—I’d have to go through the agonizing pain of blowing myself up.
This wasn’t reasonable. What kind of a fucked up training mission was this? And for an evaluation? There was no way I’d raise my rank if it was dependent on me winning a battle twenty-on-one.
A count was growing in the corner of my HUD: 17, 18, 19… I had seconds before the starting gun would fire, and I needed a plan. But how was I supposed to formulate a strategy when every map was completely randomly generated? Real soldiers were given briefings and knew what their task would involve.
Right now I was in the middle of a forest of trees that were somehow even taller than my battle unit.
I didn’t know what was on the other side, and it was only the satellite-constructed topographic data on my map that let me know I’d be dropping off some kind of steep ledge, presumably a canyon, and I’d have to reach an objective about sixty-three kilometers from my location.
That was a long ways to have to defend myself from twenty people who would happily tear me apart.
It would have been wise to wait ten or fifteen minutes before getting in my pod. Maybe let Elio and Sebastian sort themselves out and finish their missions, then jump in with the next one and beat up on soldiers who were ranked 150th or 345th.
But no, I had to be the over achiever.
This is fine, this is fine, this is fine.
The number twenty glowed in the corner of my vision, and “Mission Start” flashed across my viewport.
I sucked a heavy breath through my nose, then I forced myself to calm down and think rationally.
New metrics appeared on my HUD, one depicting “Time Elapsed,” presumably tracking both how long it took me to complete the mission, but likely also tracking how long I successfully survived in the process.
If I could evade well, that could be to my advantage.
As long as I didn’t get destroyed on my first encounter, I shouldn’t drop in rank, even if I might not raise it either.
The other metrics that flashed across my viewport simply included the number of enemy units remaining, and the distance to the target. Tracking between Shinkas had been turned off, predictably, but at least I didn’t have to worry about losing count of how many people were out to kill me.
Oh, Elio is going to have a field day with this.
I started through the trees, always rapidly scanning the area around me for heat signals or untoward sounds. It was quiet in my location, and I could only hope that meant the game masters were giving me a safe starting point to get my bearings and strategy in order before rushing in.
Part of being a good soldier was how quickly I could adapt and dissect my options in an unfamiliar environment, after all. As the only woman in a foreign world of fucked up men, I felt pretty confident I had that ability down pat.
I was almost at the edge of the trees, where it was immediately revealed that it was night time in the simulator.
A full moon cast the only light on a barren red canyon ahead, and wind howled over the high walls.
There was nowhere to hide, save some sparsely distributed red boulders and hoodoos, and I had enough glowing lights on my unit to make shadows worthless for stealth.
Unless…
I dropped my Shinka to one knee, then dug up the earth beneath the weeds.
I smeared thick, sticky clumps of a dark red, iron rich mud over every visible light, then I rubbed a dirty layer over every metal surface I could reach.
Under a full moon, I wouldn’t have perfect darkness, and metal would still pick up and reflect enough light to give me away, even with the glowing points covered.
The layer of dirt, however, would heavily mask the reflective properties of the Diacynn, and at least obscure my image.
My stealth wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be better.
Anything that made me harder to see from shooting distance was worth a try.
The wind masked the noise of some of my movements, while the moonlight also meant I could see well enough without having to activate my search lights.
I would have the advantage when facing off against twenty other pilots who hadn’t taken the time to camouflage their units, and were openly using every visibility tool at their disposal.
I only needed to locate sentries. They needed to track a target who was making an effort not to be seen.
I can do this, I told myself, chasing away the doubt and anxiety.
I may not have been the most brilliant tactician to ever live, but I had more experience looking over my shoulder in the dark than anyone else here did.
I knew how to function in a world where I was outnumbered and overpowered, because I always had been.
I was happy to show everyone exactly how crafty this little mouse can really be.