《The Rig Mechanist’s Maintenance Report》


 Chapter 1 - Prologue

    ¡°Hey Jeff, welcome back to a fresh semester,¡± the informal repair notice read, ¡°I know you¡¯ve only just gotten back from holidays, but some students have declared war on the first day, so work needs to be done on their rigs by tomorrow. Sorry about that.¡±


    Needless to say, Jeff was irritated by the note left beside his computer when he arrived back at work. The ¡®holiday¡¯ mentioned in the note was three days off to work at another school¡¯s mechanics department in the lead up to the start of the semester. Unpaid work at the request of someone he owed, and, in order to do that, he had to use up the sick days he had saved up. Although his official role was called a rig mechanic, though to most people he would be called a mechanist, the job itself would appear more closely resemblant to an engineer or a lab technician, simply due to the strange nature of the devices he worked with.


    Rigs were human-shaped, piloted weapons made to outperform any cannon in damage, shield in protection or jet in speed. The material they were made from could even be programmed to take on different shapes and were controlled through a pilot¡¯s mind. As they were not much bigger than their pilots, rigs were even hard to detect on conventional radar detection systems. They would be the best weapon ever made with human hands if not for one problem; their inventor put in place systems to ensure no one could ever learn how the cores work and prohibited their use in any combat aside from self-defence and sport.


    Obviously, some members of military organisations didn¡¯t take to those threats well and attempted to dissect one of the cores in a secret lab. The resulting explosion was said to have turned more sand to glass than at the trinity test site. Other attempts simply resulted in the death of researchers and destruction of facilities, but, eventually, the creator¡¯s wishes were agreed to. It certainly helped that the supply of new cores stopped to any nation that attempted to analyse them.


    That, in turn, led to a sudden and strange change in global conflict. With the option to attack neutralised by the power of rigs, a nation¡¯s borders became essentially fixed, and the independence of a country within could be guaranteed if they possessed even a single rig. Then, a strange case set a twisted precedent. One of the largest nations placed a bet with one of the small nations that had separated from it. A battle between the best rig pilots of each country, with large tracts of land as the wager. Since the creator didn¡¯t prohibit rig-based sport, the bet was approved, and the contestants met.


    At the end of the fight, that small nation was once again a part of the large one, and the interactions between countries were changed. At first, people across the world were outraged by the possibility that their country could be gambled away. However, slowly over time, the outrage passed and it simply became normal. It was so natural and a part of everyday life, that the youngest generation seemed entirely unaware that the changing of lands was once a bloody and vicious affair.


    The desire for national growth led to heavy investment into all fields involving rigs, both in terms of training and research, with the development of pilots being a national priority in every country. After a while, piloting schools sprung up in capital cities, allowing the hopeful and desperate to claw to the top. As resources started to pool in more wealthy and prestigious countries, the local schools started to open their doors to international students, teaching everyone equally in the hopes of poaching talent.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    One such school was where Jeff found himself overworked and underpaid. He was in his early thirties, though the stress of his work had led to the emergence of some grey hairs in his otherwise tawny brown, messy hair. The unkempt hair had grown out enough that it started to cover the thick dark circles around his eyes, masked by the frames of his prescription glasses. His pale skin could also be attributed to his working life, as it left him in a basement lab for most of the day, though his life before working there was also indoors so the blame wasn''t entirely there. With his normal-looking appearance and generic lab coat uniform, he sank entirely into the background around him.


    Rig mechanics like Jeff were some of the most highly trained workers, and Jeff himself had to study for nearly ten years just to gain the basic qualifications. He was lucky to have entered that field straight after graduation, entering the workforce directly after he finished his degree through an application made while he was still there. As such, he had more than five year''s experience as a rig mechanic; more than most his age could boast. If measured in hours, however, he would likely have more experience than someone with twice as many years; simply do to the unethical way that the school worked him.


    In the early stages of his degree, his GPA wasn''t particularly high, a product of his working side jobs and hobbies, and the scholarships available to him were therefore limited. In desperation, he signed a contract with the school he was now working at and was unable to quit until that debt was paid off. The wage he received from working as a rig mechanic for a school was much lower than what he could get in the international league and, as such, he would still be stuck at the school for a couple more years. Originally, his wage, minus living costs, would have paid off the debts in fifteen years, but Jeff had shortened that to a predicted seven, and mostly through hard work.


    Well, hard work and gambling. Not only did nations bet on rig battles it was very popular amongst normal gamblers too. Since he had access to the basic data of the rigs in the fights, and the repair history, Jeff was able to place far more accurate bets, though that was done through an anonymous co-conspirator. If he placed a bet after accessing the data himself, he could have his licence suspended, and instead relied on secret transactions with a partner. As such, when his partner in crime needed him to help get her school ready for the start of the semester, he could only resign himself to helping.


    And that brought him back to his present situation; a new kid and an international student were having a fight over who got to be the class representative, so he had to spend his first day of the semester doing complete overhauls on two rigs far sooner than he normally would have to. Not only was that extra work; it also disrupted the schedules for the other projects.


    Noticing a problem, he swore in frustration and left an informal maintenance note on his missing colleague''s desk.


    ¡°Hey Sam, that American rig uses imperial parts and we don¡¯t stock any. Can you have someone check with the student if they''re willing to either foot the bill for importing parts or willing to use a school model? Honestly, what kind of idiot gets a personalised rig, but doesn¡¯t even have a mechanist competent enough to prepare it for long-term travel?¡±

 Chapter 2 - The Class Rep Fight, Part 1

    Chapter 2


    ¡°Hey Sam, that American rig uses imperial parts and we don¡¯t stock any. Can you have someone check with the student if they''re willing to either foot the bill for importing parts or willing to use a school model? Honestly, what kind of idiot gets a personalised rig, but doesn¡¯t even have a mechanic competent enough to prepare it for long term travel.¡±


    Sam ground her teeth in frustration on reading the note Jeff left for her. As a part of the final years of her degree, she was required to work in an internship somewhere in the industry, in her case at a pilot training school, for half of every week. As the youngest member of the School and Weapons Maintenance Department, the most tedious jobs often fell straight into her lap. When she finally found an opportunity to get some payback, passing the class rep fight over for Jeff to manage, she hadn¡¯t thought that he would find a way to make her job worse.


    Amongst all of the people within the department, Jeff was the person Sam got along with best. That was mostly due to how different the two were, yet didn¡¯t feel the need to push their differences onto each other like other co-workers tried to do. While Jeff was fundamentally average, Sam tried her best to excel. Where Jeff was constantly tired, Sam used a drug to suppress the necessity of sleep.


    Sam kept her hair cut short and the side effects of the sleep suppressant had left her skin pale, it also stunted her overall growth. Not that she minded that, she often said that it was a small price to pay for twice as many hours in the day. Despite the differences in their perspectives, their appearances were close enough that they were mistaken as siblings, though with there being nearly a decade difference in their age at worst it could look like parent and child, especially with Sam¡¯s short height.


    As an undergraduate rig mechanic and programming support worker, or mechanist for short, Sam wasn¡¯t qualified to work on personal rigs, though school models were still within her qualification, and, as such, any time the graduate mechanists were busy, work involving communicating with staff and students would be her job. In her short time working there, she had come to the understanding that that was actually the least desirable job. Having paid for her education with several jobs on the side, taking advantage of her extra waking hours, Sam was well versed on just how awful people could be, but nothing could prepare her for the attitudes of pilots.


    Pilots tended to act like they owned the school, demanding that they be able to have fights whenever they want and only bothering to learn subjects related to rig operation, but never the basics of maintenance. If not for the teachers being pilots also, it¡¯s unlikely that they would ever get anything done. By far, worse than the entitled students were the nationalistic ones. Since pilots would fight with sections of their nations on the line, and also due to the expense involved in their training and operation, governments would often only sponsor students with overwhelming national pride to prevent defecting after international studies. Such students would often go out of their way to force sections of the school to be changed to better resemble their homes.


    Naturally, that would spark conflict with other students using the same space, and in the end, they would need to settle it through a rig fight, since they seemed incapable of simply talking through problems. In Sam¡¯s first week at the school, she spent half of her time doing repairs to school model rigs following a small war that broke out over what temperature the dorm¡¯s air conditioner should be set.


    Considering that the student Sam would have to talk brought a personal rig with her, it was very likely that the student was the nationalistic kind. With every core needing to be personally made by the inventor, the number of new cores made each year was very low. Her method for divvying them up and deciding which country got them was also completely unknown; if it was announced that the distribution was completely random, few people would be surprised. But with that being the case, a government would have to have complete trust in an individual, both in their personality and potential, if they were to be given a rig that could be given to an already trained pilot. It tended to imply that the government wanted them to become entirely used to the core by the time they graduated, rather than being shocked by the performance difference and risking matches while they readjusted. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    With the scarcity of cores, the second core a country got almost always got placed into a school field instead of a rig. Though, with the growth of international schools, some smaller countries were starting to send their students abroad to train and used all of their cores in rigs.


    A school model rig, also called a training model rig, was different from a real rig on a fundamental level. A real rig had a core in its frame and could operate freely in basically any environment, while a school model was powered by a core built into an arena and couldn¡¯t operate outside of the wireless power and computing that the arena provided. Given that one core could be used to power a dozen models at once; the power of a training model was only a fraction of a real rig and the wireless computing resulted in a slight interface delay in the controls. An ordinary person wouldn''t be able to notice the delay, but pilots were born and trained to be perfectly synchronized with their device.


    When Sam eventually found the student, she was in the school cafeteria ordering the cooks around with a domineering attitude, causing a building delay for the non-pilot students and staff. Her name was Jenna Baker and as far as Sam could hear, or care to hear, it seemed that they hadn¡¯t made the meal exactly how she wanted it and was bossing them around until they got it right. For Sam, it was a shocking sight; she had 24 hours each day, but still didn¡¯t have enough time to spend on pointless harassment like that. Sighing to herself, Sam approached Jenna.


    ¡°Eh, Ms Baker, could I have a moment of your time?¡± she said, while putting on her well-practised business smile, ¡°It¡¯s concerning your personal rig''s maintenance.¡±


    With a cold look from her sky blue eyes, Jenna flicked her curled golden hair, an action that caused her substantial breasts to bounce, and replied with a humph, ¡°I don¡¯t care what you filthy grease monkeys have to do, just do your job and get my rig ready for my match. I¡¯ll crush the commoner upstart and take my rightful place as the class representative.¡±


    Her speech probably went for longer than that, but Sam zoned out. Instead, she wondered how she could get a healthy bronzed skin tone like Jenna had, and didn¡¯t start to listen again until she gave a haughty laugh. Taking that laugh as a cue to start working again, Sam held out a tablet and said, ¡°That being the case, please sign here so that we can buy the parts your rig needs, and the costs will be billed to your school account.¡±


    With that, the signature was given, and the parts could be purchased. Surprisingly, Sam had zoned out for nearly fifteen minutes, and the cooking staff had used that time to finish their work uninterrupted, or at least catching up to some extent. The rest of the afternoon was spent driving around the city, stopping at parts dealers to try and find the parts they needed. At one point she got desperate and checked out a scrapyard that dealt with old cars and old rigs, and found some success there, picking through the half broken frames of discarded rigs that were too badly broken to be repaired. In the end, she found about 90% of what was required. The remaining parts, Jeff would have to jury-rig with what he had lying around. The tolerances on the missing parts were loose enough that he could probably just print them if they just needed to get through one fight. That would buy them the time they need to have real versions shipped in.


    Leaving a note on his desk, next to the parts shipment, Sam signed off for the day. Even though Jeff was in the same workspace, he was too focused on his work to even notice her there. As things were, he would probably spend most of the night working. ¡®Serves him right¡¯, she thought to herself.


    ¡°Hey Jeff, I couldn¡¯t find any imperial arm stabilisers, but there were some metric ones that would mostly fit, so remember to correct the aiming system two degrees to the left if you end up using them.¡±

 Chapter 3 - The Class Rep Fight, Part 2

    Chapter 3


    ¡°Hey Jeff, I couldn¡¯t find any imperial arm stabilisers, but there were some metric ones that would mostly fit, so remember to correct the aiming system two degrees to the left if you end up using them.¡±


    Unfortunately for Jenna Baker, the note that Sam left for Jeff was blown off the table by the door shutting behind her, and was unnoticed by the stressed worker. Sometime after midnight he finished his work and left the programs to compile overnight. Given that the arena was a kilometre at its longest, a two-degree difference could either be completely unnoticeable or a devastating defect.


    Jenna however, was a precision shooter that specialised in almost entirely in making difficult shots while moving at high speeds. For her loadout, that mistake would throw off her entire performance. That mistake would have normally been easily corrected at multiple points, and if the same parts had been there in the morning, Jeff would have easily noticed that mistake. But things didn¡¯t turn out that way and, instead, Jeff went home thinking that he had done his job correctly.


    Early the next morning, at around six, Jeff was once again back to work. With travel time and living requirement, he had only slept four hours the previous night. As such, he trusted his work from the night prior and applied the compiled programs into the ominous black cubes that would unpack themselves into the rigs. The only difference between the two one-square-meter cubes was that one had a jutting high-visibility-yellow sphere sticking out of one of the sides. It was the core-energy receiver that showed that it was a training model, a sad substitute for a real core. When each of the boxes ran the programs and reconfigured themselves into the shape of a suit of winged-human shaped armour, the yellow sphere was still visible, fixed in place, in the center of the chest-piece.


    While the transfer student, Satou, had a suit of armour that wouldn¡¯t look entirely out of place in a cyber-punk renaissance fair, Jenna¡¯s ¡®armour¡¯ almost made him feel embarrassed for her. Aside from gauntlets and greaves, the suit could best be described as bikini armour, with a back-plate where the sleek wings attached. The official explanation of the armour''s appearance was that it cut down on the materialisation of armour, in order to boost the complexity of the flight system while keeping the weight down. Given the suit¡¯s projected performance, Jeff could almost believe that; what he could tell from the performance checks did show it to be one of the best performance wing designs he''d seen. What made him doubt that reasoning, however, was that he read the previous worker¡¯s report, which said that he had been instructed to keep the exposure high as a means of throwing opponents off-balance. That kind of cheap psychological attack wasn''t at all uncommon, mostly because it was effective, especially when the opponent was a young man.


    In one of the gauntlet''s grip was the one and a half meter long barrel of her suit¡¯s famous Rig-Breaker rifle. It was somewhat famous amongst mechanists, as it was a rare ''solid round'' coil-gun weapon, but was designed to look like a conventional firearm. While solid projectiles weren''t uncommon in themselves, the reliability of rail-guns was the prefered choice, and they almost never had a chemical projectile along with the magnetic launcher. The downside of solid bullets was that actual ammunition would have to be carried into the match instead of running off the rig''s power, meaning the pilot needed to plan carefully. Too many bullets would add to the weight and slow speed, but too few meant risking running out. While the differences in weight would often make next to no performance difference, matches were often won by slim margins. All in all, Jeff considered the rig to be an incredibly unbalanced glass cannon; powerful punch but no defence.


    The setup Satou had requested was based on a completely different concept; an all-rounder that could do a little bit of everything. It had a sword in one hand and an energy pistol in the other, a solid setup for short to mid-range fights, without having to worry about planning attacks in advance. The armour was durable but not too thick, and it had several smaller thrusters positioned in key locations rather than focusing all of the propulsion into the wings. Defence wise, it could stop a couple of hits and avoid a few also. On one hand, it could be said that the loadout was suited to every situation. On the other hand, it could be said that the pilot hadn¡¯t committed himself to any kind of strategy.


    With the rigs finished and delivered to the arena, Jeff could finally get back to his normal work¡­ doing the same thing for more sets of school models in the lead up to the start of practical lessons for the semester. At some time just before the start of the school¡¯s lunch period, he received a call from one of the teaching staff. It seemed that she was the homeroom teacher for the two idiots that picked a fight on the first day and wanted to organise for some members of the maintenance department to oversee the fight. Normally, Jeff would have sent Sam along to something so tedious sounding, for the sake of her education of course, but it was one of the days she was at her university instead.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    Knowing that it was easier to just get the tedious tasks that pilots set over and done with, Jeff agreed to do it personally. If one of the senior mechanists was there, then only one person needed to stop working. So it only made sense in terms of meeting their deadlines. With someone else from the department taking over his work, Jeff made his way over to the arena ready to treat the fight as a short nap between tasks.


    When he arrived at the arena control room, a room that looked similar to an airport traffic control tower, as it looked over the field. Seeing no one else around, he booted the main computer and set to work making sure all of the monitoring equipment was functioning. Given that the arena¡¯s core had to maintain the audience''s protective field at the same time as powering Satou¡¯s rig, its power would be distributed in a three to two ratio. As such, Jenna¡¯s rig would be required to operate at 40% max output, and going beyond that would cause her loss if the fight ended in either a draw or time ran out if it was done in spikes or lose outright if consistently over the limit. With that kind of wiggle room, he would have instructed a pilot to abuse it, but he wasn''t a teacher and he didn''t work for a pilot. Since they had agreed to a single 5 minute round, timing out was entirely a possibility, and the fact that Jenna not only agreed to it, but also proposed that rule, showed how completely confident she was in her victory.


    A couple of minutes before the event was set to start, the teacher that called finally showed up. She was a pilot that retired early when an opponent¡¯s blade managed to get through her rig¡¯s shield and score a direct hit to her leg. While the injury was mostly healed, to the extent that she wouldn¡¯t notice it in her daily life, the cut was contaminated with formless rig particles, the matter that the bodies of rigs were mostly composed of, that couldn¡¯t be removed. If she were to come into contact with a core, its energy would likely activate those particles, causing them to expand and slow her blood flow, not to mention that they interfered with her ability to control rigs. Since that problem wouldn¡¯t occur with a school model, if she ever wanted to fly again, teaching was her only option.


    Her real combat experience was how Ms Deborah Burgess gained the students'' respect. But amongst the maintenance department, there were some bad rumours about. Despite her young and innocent appearance, it was said that she had had several affairs with her students. Her black hair matched the suit she wore, and only served to make her already small chest seem ever more diminutive. Apparently, the rig she had used was a speed type, like Jenna¡¯s, only coloured with a black and red instead of Jenna¡¯s patriotic blue, red and white. With that look, she had been known as ¡®Battle Imp¡¯ during her short-lived career.


    With the overall importance of rig related jobs, a lot of personality problems were overlooked. Jeff¡¯s own gambling was probably being ignored, as well as Sam¡¯s obvious drug dependency. Compared to them, Deborah¡¯s affairs were almost promoted. Rig control was dependent on a factor called ¡®Digital Comparability¡¯, which was a measure of how similar their thoughts were to the code that the receptors could recognise. At its most basic, the higher the percentage the more their thoughts could be converted to commands and the more information gathered by the rig could be conveyed to the pilot. DC was also a genetic trait, meaning the children of two pilots were more likely to be able to become pilots.


    A normal person had a DC of about 15%, which would be enough to directly control a rig on land, as though it were a prosthetic limb, after a couple of months of training. Just activating flight required at least 25%, and basic combat programs needed at least 35%. In order to receive adequate information from the rigs sensors, a basic requirement for fighting at the flight speeds of a rig, at least 40% DC was required. As such, the official school acceptance requirement was set to that.


    When Deborah Burgess entered the room, she didn¡¯t notice Jeff at all. As with most pilots, auxiliary staff were invisible to her; just a part of the computer he was operating. It was such a normal occurrence that it was far more surprising when one actually did greet them. To other pilots, however, they would be some of the most sociable people around, hiding hatred with kindness and lust behind pleasantries.


    Not long after, the fight began. Jenna started out aggressively and pinned Satou down with long-ranged combat and easily avoiding his pistol fire, with both speed and distance. The silver colour of Satou¡¯s rig started to get stained black with scorch marks from near misses from the Rig-Breaker that super-heated the air around it with its speed and, after four minutes, he looked worn down and tired.


    Suddenly, in response to Jenna¡¯s taunting, he directed all of his thrusters straight backwards and started to fly directly towards Jenna, seeming to make a final desperate dash. Slashing his sword, he cut the projectile racing towards him and gained ground, ever closer to his target. Normal metals would have been torn apart by collisions at such speed, but the metals used were some of the hardest and they were further reinforced with the rigs power. There were only a few seconds left on the count down, and both sides were running low on power.


    Satou raised his blade when he was within range and readied an attack. But he was too late. The time had run out and the match was over. He had lost and Jenna was the new class representative.


    Through the sound control system, Jeff could hear Jenna whisper over her mic, ¡°For him to predict and avoid my shots so precisely¡­ unbelievable.¡±


    With the match over, Deborah rushed out to meet her students, leaving Jeff there to pack up the system and start repairs. During the post-match rig maintenance, Jeff noticed the mistake he had made with the arms parts and quickly wrote a note.


    ¡°Hey Sam, it¡¯s about the work on the custom rig. If anyone asks, say that John did the targeting calibration.¡±

 Chapter 4 - The Class Rep Fight, End Part

    Chapter 4


    ¡°Hey Sam, it¡¯s about the work on the custom rig. If anyone asks, say that John did the targeting calibration.¡±


    On her way home after going to university, Sam stopped by school to make sure they weren¡¯t letting work pile up for her to do when she got back. On her desk, she saw that note and immediately realised something was wrong. There was no John working in their department. It was a code they used when they needed to band together against investigation. If everyone inside the department insisted that there was someone named John there, eventually anyone looking into it would feel stonewalled and give up. Apparently they had used it before, but not since Sam had started her internship.


    From the context, and the ruckus she had heard on her way in, Sam could basically piece together what happened and agreed that oversight wouldn¡¯t go well for her. Any investigation into the working environment would see her drug use, and there was always the chance that the person investigating would actually care. Sleepless was relatively harmless, but it was still a controlled substance that she had to obtain through less than above board means. The growth stunting wasn¡¯t the reason for its ban, but instead was due to the damage it caused future generations. Since it worked through the manipulation of brain chemistry, it completely trashed a user¡¯s DC, and even affected the score of any children they had. After years of constant use, Sam wouldn''t even be able to move an ordinary prosthetic limb with her mind.


    In particular, the government wouldn¡¯t want sleepless anywhere near that prized transfer student. From the rumours she heard, he had been able to dodge a sniper¡¯s bullets with only the slightest of margins of error, a feat that shouldn¡¯t be possible for someone who had only piloted twice prior. Apparently their mistake was being written off as that Satou kid¡¯s talent. Even if she wanted to come clean, at that point it was unlikely that she would even be believed. After his success, it was revealed that the reason he was allowed to enter the school late was that he had an unprecedented high DC percentage, at a record shattering 78%.


    Apparently he would even be awarded his own personal rig soon, with the right to customise it as much as he wanted. That was something she really dreaded to hear, since that level of work would require most of the mechanists to work on that, leaving the school rigs to be done by Sam. She could just imagine the frustration of having to deal with a school¡¯s worth of rigs while the rest of the department got to initialise a new model from scratch. That kind of thing was why most of them got into the industry. Though, she had heard that the income was a big part of it for Jeff.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Another rumour going around is that after the fight, Jenna started to hit on Satou, though he seemed unaffected by it. It seems like a lot of the girls were calling her shameless behind her back. ¡°How sad to be her, if it keeps up like that, she will have alienated herself from the rest of the girls in her class,¡± thought Sam, only taking the slightest joy from an idiot hurting herself to chase an uninterested guy.


    Though, as Sam went to the shops to pick up some ingredients, she found that Jenna wasn¡¯t the only fool. Together with the transfer student was the tree in the forest, Sachiko. There was a saying that went, ¡®the best place to hide a tree was in a forest¡¯ and from there the department¡¯s nickname for Sachiko came about. As the sole granddaughter of the rig core¡¯s creator, there were an endless number of people that wanted to take her hostage, so she entered a pilot training school thinking that she would blend in with the other students and go unnoticed. That she used her real name on the entry forms really didn¡¯t help her out, but it seems that she didn¡¯t really think things through much.


    Any pretence of hiding was certainly thrown out when she decided to go out in public with the DC record holder, with both linked arms and an expression of embarrassment. If not for the dozen undercover guards throughout the building, she might actually be in some danger.


    Though, one person she was clearly not in danger from, however, was that thick headed boy named Satou, who seemed oblivious to Sachiko¡¯s blatant flirting. Sam had to wonder if there was something wrong with that kid to not notice the affection of the big breasted woman draping herself over him and frequently brushing her back length black hair against his face for him to smell. Sam remembered watching a video about a bird that appealed to potential mates with elaborate dances and colourful nests, and felt that that bird was still somehow more subtle.


    Feeling incredibly disappointed at the site of the future core maker acting like that, Sam finished her shopping and went home. After dinner, and finishing her studies for the day, she got changed and went to work at her second job. Once work finished there, she returned home again to take a shower, took a dose of sleepless and got ready to start university for the day.


    On her way to campus, she received a call that made her have to stop in at the school and leave a message. ¡°Hey Jeff, I¡¯ve got good news and bad news. My application to work on cored rigs under supervision was approved. The bad news is that the school pushed for it. That probably means that the worst case scenario rumours were true.¡±

 Chapter 5 - The Childhood Friend Battle, Part 1

    Chapter 5


    ¡°Hey Jeff, I¡¯ve got good news and bad news. My application to work on cored rigs under supervision was approved. The bad news is that the school pushed for it. That probably means that the worst case scenario rumours were true.¡±


    On seeing that note, first thing after getting to work, Jeff felt like organising time off. It was at that point he noticed that he had used up his saved up sick leave, and would lose pay if he did. That was like choosing an arm to be cut off; the choice was obvious but he still felt like putting it off.


    The rumour they had heard was that another pair of international students would be transferring in, and bringing personal rigs with them. Since the tree in the forest started at the school, a lot of cores found their way there, and with the record holder there too, it was getting ridiculous. With Satou¡¯s core on the way, they would get three rigs to deal with in a single week. There wouldn¡¯t be a pilot school on the planet that could deal with that on a short notice, but the School and Weapons Maintenance Department was already short staffed. At the very least Sam could have tricked some more of the undergrads into doing their training there.


    ¡°How many other placements allowed undergrads to apply for work under supervision agreements? That should be a selling point; she should be bragging to everyone on campus,¡± As Jeff thought that, he realised who he was referring to, and knew that there wasn¡¯t a chance of that. ¡®24 hours a day and she can¡¯t spend one of them making friends¡¯ was a common description, the members of the maintenance department had for her. That same attitude saved Sam from entering the scholarship trap, but it still made her seem distant and unsociable to her colleagues.


    What irritated Jeff most about the incoming rigs was that he had to find out through Sam. He had worked there for years and his official record was cleaner than most, yet they still didn¡¯t bother mentioning something that would have been in the works for months. He could take teachers and pilots forgetting about them, pilots lived in their own little pilot-ey bubble, but not the administration. Admin should be lower than rig workers on the social hierarchy, and other places would fire them without a moment¡¯s hesitation if they did that kind of thing.


    That kind of thing was a large contributing factor towards why they were understaffed; the moment people could leave, they would leave. Jeff was no exception. The moment he had enough saved up to buy out the contract he would be out the door and never come back. More than just the neglect and lack of communication, there were the small time wasters that were imposed on the department that gave everyone a feeling that they weren¡¯t wanted there. Things like not being allowed to organise for parts to be delivered. If they wanted parts, they would have to either go to the admin office to fill out some forms to have the staff there organise purchase and delivery, or drive there themselves and pick it up. If they left it up to admin, the parts would usually arrive two days after they were needed, so there really was only one option.


    That option, of course being, have the interns fetch it; an attitude that in turn made it unlikely that any of them would sign on after graduation. The official reason for that policy was to ensure that only the parts of the highest standards were used in the care of rigs within the school. The real reason was likely just that someone in admin was having a power trip.


    The sad truth was that important people gathered around power, and the students at piloting schools would control the future of countries. As such, important people would send their important kids to work at places where they could befriend important pilots. Those same kids resented being lower than others and had no issue with abusing whatever power they had. If they thought about it for a few minutes, they might have come to an understanding about why their families had hard times recruiting mechanists. With the length, difficulty and expense of a mechanist degree, it really wasn¡¯t that surprising that the number of workers was low. Low numbers also meant that most eventually got to know each other, something that was promoted by their international governing body. Any time a famous family made a mechanist¡¯s life harder, it would go on an unofficial list of people to avoid, and within a week, either the number of mechanists that would return their calls would have sharply fallen, or they were paying a lot more than average.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    The businesses that realised what was happening referred to it as excommunication, in borrowing a religious term, and if they suspected that it was happening, they would try to limit contact, not wanting to risk catching it like a disease. That meant that the admin kids were warned not to do anything before they took the job, but still made their lives harder anyway. With that kind of thinking, Jeff had no issues uploading their names.


    Knowing that they were on bad terms, Jeff was surprised when he received a call from the main office saying that he was needed there. Although, it was considerably less surprising that he needed to do so during his lunch break, and even less surprised when he got there.


    They had him wait outside of an office room while some staff and students had a meeting, and was only let in towards the end. As he walked into the conference room, decorated with untouched bookshelves and works of classical art, he could see the transfer student and his teacher talking with the principal. The principal was someone that could easily be confused with a sleepless user, but instead was someone who spent a considerable amount of money to make herself resemble a child-like adult. She dressed in traditional clothing while having her hair tied back in a side-tail, as if to highlight the disparity between her real and apparent age.


    ¡°Ah, Satou, take this core and follow that person.¡± the principal said on noticing Jeff, ¡°He¡¯s some kind of mechanist and will get your rig set up. Ms Burgess, go with them and help Satou decide what kind of personalisation he wants.¡±


    With that, they started walking, seeming to expect him to follow after them. They didn¡¯t seem to know where his lab was, but walked confidently anyway. They eventually arrived at the general area near the maintenance department, after wasting time doing something that Jeff called ¡®oblivious flirting¡¯, where one of them flirted and the other didn¡¯t notice. While they did that, Jeff pulled out his phone and started researching who Deborah¡¯s mechanist was when she was a professional. Part of him hoped that whoever it was had advice, but it would mostly be a sympathy call. Not surprisingly, it seemed that she had never hired a personal mechanist, and instead went through dozens of government workers in her short time at the top, and the ratings they left for her were entirely low. If an employer actually read some of the things written, it would be a mystery that she ever got a job.


    They walked up to the closest lab, and shooed the worker from their room. To them, it seemed that any lab would do, and that someone was already using it meant nothing to them. Thankfully that meant that Jeff had to fetch his tools and the coreless rig, which gave him some well needed time away from them. Somehow, that Jeff hadn¡¯t predicted everything in advance and had everything ready for them caused Deborah to make an irritated tongue click.


    It was said that Satou had been a normal student prior to the start of the year, not having anything to do with rigs, but from what Jeff had seen, he found a way to fit right in with them fast enough. The first week of the semester hadn¡¯t even finished and ordinary people were already unimportant to him. Jeff also couldn¡¯t understand why things weren¡¯t readied beforehand; though he might have just been optimistic about how much planning had happened.


    Taking a moment to himself at his desk, after telling his colleagues what happened and making arrangements with everyone so that their actual work was still finished, Jeff left a note on Sam¡¯s desk on the off chance that she showed up with free time.


    ¡°Help. Room E014¡±

 Chapter 6 - The Childhood Friend Battle, Part 2

    Chapter 6


    ¡°Help. Room E014.¡±


    Simple; straight to the point. But most importantly, it wasn¡¯t Sam¡¯s problem. What was her problem was the second rig, which was delivered to the lab after Jeff left. Thankfully, Sam managed to find a pissed off mechanist who was kicked out of his own lab in the middle of a parts test, to act as a supervisor while she worked on the parts she knew about. An international student was starting a few days late and had sent her personal rig ahead of her to have its safety inspection done and have its monitoring system added to the school¡¯s network. Since it was a personal rig, the owner¡¯s settings were very exactly calibrated and any changes needed to be balanced to ensure the pilot wouldn¡¯t feel any different.


    While Sam had a theoretical knowledge on how to adjust the core settings, she didn¡¯t have any experience with it and was very worried about damaging something, or setting off the anti-tampering system. For her own peace of mind, she worked on the rig while the core was removed.


    Looking over the rig¡¯s design, it seemed to be another speed based model. That wasn¡¯t uncommon or surprising since that was the current most popular type. The most popular type flowed through cycles; speed to defence to power and back again. Whenever the bulk of pilots chose one thing, the best counter would gain popularity. Abnormal types and balanced rigs never really gain popularity, since they were seen as risky and few countries would invest in something dangerous when they have so much to lose.


    An exception to that would be the pilot that inspired Sam to become a mechanist. Sara Campbell was a legendary irregular type pilot who was most famous for her work with mechanists. She used the concept of a pit crew from the old sport of car racing to ensure she could fight any opponent.


    The most commonly accepted rules for rig battles were that a rigs layout had to be submitted before the fight, in between the rounds was a 5 minute break, there could only be one mechanist on the team for each pilot, and any rig not out of the bay when the round started forfeited the round. Using those rules, Sara would submit her rig schematics as a stripped back unit with just thin armour, thrusters and a shield. It wasn¡¯t the kind of gear that could win a fight, but it could let her survive long enough to learn about her opponent¡¯s habits while her mechanist planned for the break. During the break, her rig would be entirely refitted to counter whatever she was fighting and would go out and win the subsequent rounds. The only way that was at all possible was because of the skill of Sara¡¯s mechanist, and because Sara helped out with the fitting.


    Other teams tried to copy them, but they quickly realised just how hard it was. The pilot needed to learn to use speed, attack and defence type rigs, while learning to predict their opponents and enough about rig design to be able to help out. When most pilots tried to help, they only really got in their mechanist¡¯s way. With the limited work space available to an un-deployed rig, even trained mechanist could get in each other''s way, let alone a pilot that barely knew a thing.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    When Sara¡¯s mechanist was forced to retire, she did so also, saying that her pit technique simply couldn¡¯t be replicated with someone else on her team. Seeing the trust and teamwork between the two inspired a young Sam; it made her completely want to become a part of something similar. At the time, she had just started using sleepless, so that she could work a job while at school, so she knew that becoming a pilot, even entering a piloting high school, would be impossible. That was the only time in her life that she ever regretted starting on sleepless.


    The strangest part of Sara¡¯s retirement was that she hadn¡¯t been heard from since. She hadn¡¯t appeared in the media, or started work at any training or maintenance places. It was like she disappeared. Even her rig and core, which were to be either placed on display or inherited, were stolen while in transport. The core creator, who tracked where every core was, released a statement saying that she didn¡¯t know the location of the core in an interview that was described as, ¡°Some of the worst acting ever to be caught on camera.¡±


    Seeing that Sam was distracted, her supervisor told her to go for a walk to clear her head. If she screwed up and triggered the defences, they would both die, and he didn¡¯t seem very keen for that to happen. The time was a few hours after school had finished, and there weren¡¯t many people around. Given the time of year, the sun was only just starting to set. Silhouetted by the pink and red sky, Sam could see two figures talking in the distance.


    One was a big breasted, tall woman with straight, long black hair running down her back. The beautiful tree in the forest; Sachiko.


    The other was a short woman with gorgeous red hair cut into a bob. She was the cute owner of the rig that Sam had spent the last hour working on.


    As they either didn¡¯t notice her or didn¡¯t care, Sam decided to listen in on them. Something she regretted.


    ¡°When I heard that you were also someone from Satou¡¯s childhood, I was a little afraid. But seeing how you acted when you barged into our class, I have no worries. There¡¯s no way he would choose someone so shameless,¡± Said the tall mountain.


    ¡°When I heard that something was sticking itself to my Satou, I knew I couldn¡¯t just wait around. Turns out I was right; a fattened leach was right there beside him,¡± Said the short planes.


    ¡°How am I the leach when I knew him first? Don¡¯t try and raid my nest, you cuckoo.¡±


    And so it went, on and on like that for several minutes, until they agreed to settle it with a rig battle. ¡°It was obvious that it was always going to end that way, so why did they bother with the preamble?¡± was the only response on Sam¡¯s mind. That was until she realised that that meant she would have to have the personal rig finished faster, and prep a school model. With Jeff working on Satou¡¯s rig, the only people available for that were Sam and the guy that was kicked from his lab, Jared.


    Crushed by that, she went back to the workshop and to Jared about what she heard. His face had already been one of frustration and exhaustion, but somehow it seemed to get worse. It was the face of someone who had resigned himself to the gallows, without any hope for pardon. After another hour passed, they had a rhythm to their work going and they were almost feeling like they were going to be able to finish at least the personal rig, when Sam¡¯s phone went off.


    It was a reminder she set; the latest time she could be there before she needed to start going home if she didn¡¯t want to be late for work. Jared had heard the chime before and knew what it meant. The small confidence he had built up fell apart at the tone. With a small apology, Sam left in a hurry, knowing that she would still be at least a little late. As she ran, she sent a text to Jeff.


    ¡°The personal rig is needed for a fight tomorrow and so is a school model, hurry back to the workshop once you¡¯re done.¡±

 Chapter 7 - The Childhood Friend Battle, Part 3

    Chapter 7


    ¡°The personal rig is needed for a fight tomorrow and so is a school model, hurry back to the workshop once you¡¯re done.¡±


    If not for the set up being far easier than he had been expecting, Jeff would have cried on receiving that text. Another reason he took that news well was because Deborah and Jeff had already gone home, leaving once school hours were over. It seemed that Deborah wasn¡¯t the kind of teacher that was willing to work outside of hours, yet she somehow was still able to get her work done. That might have an impact to the quality of her teaching, but it still irritated Jeff that people like that could exist while he was spending his evening on unpaid overtime.


    The reason why the set up was simple to do was because of Satou¡¯s unrealistic expectations. He was an admirer of a pilot called Sara Campbell, who stopped flying before he was even born. The problem was, Satou didn¡¯t really know enough about rigs to understand why Sara was so unique, and focused on her adaptability. He seemed to think that he could use his high DC to allow the rig¡¯s sensors to compensate for any issues he¡¯d have. For a competent and well trained pilot, that would definitely be the case. But then, a competent pilot often didn¡¯t need to rely on that, and had experience to go off of, instead. Since he wanted a stripped back model that could be easily refitted, Jeff wasn¡¯t going to complain.


    From the ground up, the pit crew strategy wasn¡¯t a very good plan. The main issues with it were so obvious that even the newest of mechanist could notice it. In order to make the rig easily retrofitted, the connections would always be weaker. That meant a true defence build would be impossible, with the joints giving out well before the armour does. The expandable thrusters were also an issue that didn¡¯t work; speed builds required peak energy efficiency and the connection between the initial and expanded were some of the least efficient parts ever designed for a rig. Both of those issues combined meant that an attack build wasn¡¯t going to work either. Heavy weapons need increased strength, and external strength parts would often shatter weak joints. They also consumed almost as much energy as thrusters. That these issues were so obvious should have been a giveaway to the real reason for Sara¡¯s success.


    Simply put, Sara Campbell was a cheat. She might not have even noticed it herself, since it was one of the best kept secrets in the world of professional rig sports. It had to do with the identity of the mechanist that she worked with, an identity that was always left hidden from the public. When Jeff first started his degree, and realised that the pit crew method shouldn¡¯t have worked, he was enchanted by the mysterious, shadowy figure, that somehow solved one of the great challenges of rig mechanical science and retired without revealing how it was done; choosing the success of their country over personal fame.


    That inspired him to search through the International Body for Rig Science¡¯s database for any trace of their identity. The body monitored everything mechanist and parts dealers did, and recorded everything with several redundancies. It was something that made his job far more annoying than it needed to be, but it also made completely erasing history nearly impossible. Although everything that directly revealed Sara¡¯s mechanist¡¯s identity was scrubbed clean, Jeff had been able to trace parts they used and cities they went to, among other things, to work out the university they went to. From there, he had tracked down everyone that graduated within the time frame he was looking at, till he found only one possibility.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Alicia B. Kaya, first daughter of Erin Kaya, the inventor of rig technologies and the sole creator of rig cores. That was who Sara¡¯s mechanist was. From that, it was easy to understand exactly how she was able to make the pit crew method work, she used her authority to overwrite the anti-tampering and direct the energy normally used for that into holding the pieces secure and powering through inefficiency. While Sara was evidently a very skilled pilot, her greatest advantage was actually 25% more energy than her opponent.


    After Jeff made that discovery, he was contacted by the body, and made to sign a non-disclosure agreement. The method he used was also wiped clean. If someone else were to try the same, they would find nothing. The matter was considered a part of international security, the sport was global and that kind of cheating could be very damaging to its reputation, and to the trust that countries placed in it to conduct their bets. It was at that point that Jeff stopped caring about the ideals that the sport could stand for. He had seen how the sausages were made, and all that was left was to profit from their sale.


    That was why he didn¡¯t bother trying to change Satou¡¯s mind. That kid was still idealistic and believed that he could recreate his idol¡¯s technique. Some people might like telling children there''s no Santa, but Jeff wasn¡¯t one of them. He wasn¡¯t paid enough, nor did he care enough, to help others out of their decisions. It did kind of surprise him the Deborah had supported his choice. That was until he realised what she probably intended. She didn¡¯t need him to be successful. In fact, the more successful he was, the more chances there were for him to be snatched away. If he failed as a pilot it would be easier for her to swoop in and have his children. Although that attitude wasn¡¯t uncommon with pilots, she seemed to take it a little too far.


    Her plan wouldn¡¯t work, anyway. Even if he had the wrong idea, and had little chance of winning as a professional, his raw specs would probably be enough to work his way to the top of the school. Graduating at the top of the leader board was enough that he would at least make it onto a team; once there, he would be scouted by some more talented seductress and Deborah would have missed her chance. That was at least how Jeff saw it.


    Once that pair left, Jeff¡¯s progress went a lot more smoothly; not having to stop every few minutes to clean up a mess they made. He felt bad for Jared, who would have to start his tests from scrap, since they somehow managed to delete the data he had been working on. By about ten thirty, he finished setting up, and made his back to his own workshop. He left the rig in the lab to compile the code, and dismissed moving it as a problem for his future self to deal with. Better yet, a problem for Sam¡¯s future self to deal with.


    In the workshop, Jared was approaching a stage where he could probably only need another hour and a half to finish. That was a convenient time, since Jeff could probably finish setting up for the school model in that time also. As a student that hadn¡¯t suddenly transferred in, Sachiko¡¯s rig data was still stored on the school network from the previous year, so it was a lot easier to use a template from that and adjust it to her current growth. It was the basic process they followed for every student before a fight, just pulled forward. Since the adjustments were routine, most of the work was making sure that the physical rig was free of defects, and adjusting the power receiver to match the arena the fight would be in. After that, they just paired the core rig with the school rig, so that the core rig wouldn¡¯t start with more power without the pilot telling it to.


    With the work done, an hour and fifteen minutes later, they left the shop with the code doing its thing. When they arrived in the morning, they would be done and could be sent to the arena to have the fighters undo their work. Saying goodnight to his co-worker, Jeff returned home. Before he went to bed, he remembered that Sam would be going on her break around that time, so he sent her a message, updating her about the work.


    ¡°Hey, we somehow managed to get them done. I¡¯ll leave transporting them up to you.¡±

 Chapter 8 - The Childhood Friend Battle, Part 4

    Chapter 8


    ¡°Hey, we somehow managed to get them done. I¡¯ll leave transporting them up to you.¡±


    It was a message that showed up on Sam¡¯s phone that really made her night. After a long first half of her shift, she was already feeling worn out, and the thought of having to spend the day working on those rigs wasn¡¯t very appealing. The warm and humid night became pleasant as the cool breeze, which drifted in off the lake that ran through the centre of the city, touched her skin. It was something that she had come to love, the way the night felt so cool, but that feeling felt all the more heightened by the contrast in experiencing the day.


    Through the use of sleepless, Sam was never tired. It wasn¡¯t like a buzz from coffee, more like a constant moment of clarity, just after waking up. More than a decade had passed since she had started using it, and it was fast approaching the point where it would be lethal to stop. If she weaned herself off it slowly, and went through a long and arduous rehabilitation program; if she did that before the end of that year; Sam would be able to stop using it altogether. After that point, however, her body would have gotten too dependent on it, and she would die without it. As it was, it could be lethal if she stopped too suddenly. As well as the destruction of DC, that was one of the major reasons why it was a controlled substance.


    Not that it was particularly hard to obtain. Whenever Sam needed more, she just bought some online from a large chemical manufacturing company in India, which had no issues with violating other country¡¯s substance control laws. Simply put, they were too large to fail and too powerful to stop. The only people who would have difficulty getting sleepless would be professional pilots, whose diets and substances were closely monitored. A drug scandal could cost a country land, so they monitored their athletes closely. Either that or they tried to help them beat the tests.


    Jeff pushing the transporting onto her was a little vexing, if not very predictable, but that was nothing compared to the actual work required on the three rigs. Thinking about it, she couldn¡¯t imagine just how they could be done. Even at his quickest, Jeff would normally only just be finishing setting up Satou¡¯s rig. With a shrug, Sam dismissed it, thinking that they somehow roped one of the other workers in on it.


    After work, when the sun was only an hour away from rising, Sam sat in her apartment with a worried expression. She had miscounted the number of doses she had left. It was bad. Two days of sleepless left and the next shipment would need three. It was a dilemma that she hated to face, either cut the remaining pills in thirds and subsidise the effects with sleep, or pay extra for faster shipping. Sam¡¯s budget was fairly tight. She wasn¡¯t a miser like Jeff, trying to pay off his scholarship even a day earlier, but she was trying to avoid getting any debts to begin with. Since she couldn¡¯t skip work, she would have to sleep during the time when she would normally study, if she chose that option, and if she paid for fast transport, she would have to cut things out of her expenses. Food? That could be a little cheaper. Fuel? There were buses during the day but none ran at night along the route she used. Rent? Any cheaper and she¡¯d have rats for roommates. Food and fuel would at least save some, but not really enough.


    Not sure what to do, Sam messaged Jeff, hoping for any kind of useful advice, while not really expecting anything. A few minutes later, she received a reply. ¡°Just do what I do; there¡¯s the fight at school today and it¡¯ll be aired at Luke¡¯s Place.¡±


    Luke¡¯s Place was a bar that mostly catered to supporters of Rig sports, and a haven from gambling. The building itself was an old factory that was converted into a club before being converted once again into a sports bar. It had a lot of history with the city and was one of its oldest buildings. That history was one of the reasons that investigations tended to ignore complaints of unlicensed gambling. For the kind of low stakes that Sam would need, a local match would be perfect, and Luke¡¯s Place wouldn¡¯t have a problem with the conflict of interest that came from her having worked on the rigs.


    Jeff had said it before, ¡°You¡¯re really a mechanist when you can tell which rig would win from the raw data alone.¡±


    Although he said that, he was only right about 80% of the time. That was much higher than most, but lower than his boast would warrant. His advice kind of felt like someone trying to push their hobby on someone else, more than actually helping, but he was right that it could work. If it didn¡¯t work, she could always take money out of what she had saved for the next year¡¯s university fees. It probably wouldn¡¯t put her that far behind, and with her grades, she could probably apply for a much better scholarship than the one Jeff got; maybe even an academic one that didn¡¯t require being paid back.


    As the sun rose, she made her way into the school and organised the rig¡¯s transportation, before going to university for her classes. At around lunch time, she made her way to the old brick building that was almost a straight line between the school and the university. Even from outside the two-story building¡¯s door, the smell of spilt cheap beers drifted stronger than the outdoors breeze. Walking through the doorway, there were rows of round tables arcing around the back wall, directed at a large screen that was live-streaming the view from the school¡¯s centre arena. A nondescript guy behind the bar counter nodded to her and welcomed her inside.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    There were a few groups of people about, not many but that was normal for the time of day. A whiteboard on a side wall had the odds written up for various fights scheduled throughout the day. The most prominent one was scratched in at the bottom with, ¡®local fight¡¯ written beside it. From the odds, it seemed that they favoured Lucy, the speed type transfer student, over the attack build of Sachiko. Since neither had any fight history, and they had very similar DC, picking the one with the type advantage was a very sensible decision.


    Sam placed her bet and made her way over to a table. She nervously waited for the fight to start, while texting Jeff a question she had. In professional matches, the official bet had to be made public, but at a school level, it was up to the competitors whether they wanted to reveal it or not. They still had to inform the school so that they could enforce the result, but other people wouldn¡¯t know. Since it wasn¡¯t made public, Sam wondered what they bet, and asked Jeff if he knew.


    ¡°I looked it up,¡± the reply read, ¡°and it¡¯s a fight over who gets to challenge Satou first. They might not have realised it, but since it¡¯s a fight between the two of them, it doesn¡¯t bind other people. I overheard some students say that the class rep fight might have a sequel, so they might be fighting for nothing.¡±


    Having heard just how snarky and unpleasant the pair could be, Sam did gain some amusement from reading that. Since Jenna Baker¡¯s rig was worked on recently, they would only have to do a quick once over before it could be used again, so it wasn¡¯t particularly bothersome if that fight did happen.


    Before long the fight started. The blue-green colour of Lucy¡¯s rig seemed to diffuse into the blue sky with her speed. While chameleon and stealth devices were usable, their power requirements meant that few pilots would use them, especially against any pilot that could operate rig sensors effectively. With that in mind, colour choice and fast movement was the most cost-effective option, so long as high altitudes and speeds were maintained.


    With that in mind, the first damage of the match was dealt to Sachiko; her attack build was too laden with ammunition to move out of the way. Her rig was like a lightly armoured warrior, with just a chest plate, boots and gloves. To balance out to weight of her Gatling gun and four-box missile launcher, she cut down the weight of her armour. The bright orange colour of the rig was almost defiant in the way it contrasted with the green of the field.


    The pair had agreed to a single round ¡®armour break¡¯ match with no time limit; a more dangerous form of the sport where the goal was to cause the opponent¡¯s rig¡¯s main armour to fracture. Another name for it was ¡®mechanist¡¯s hell¡¯ or ¡®part dealer¡¯s dream¡¯. It was popular amongst crowds for the risk involved; one attack just slightly too powerful and the pilot gets cut. But any broken parts needed fixing or replacing, so that meant work for mechanist and money for part dealers. Sam had seen the work slip, and it definitely hadn¡¯t mentioned that it would be an armour break round. While Sam normally thought that what Jeff said about the admin workers being intentionally malicious, instead of just incompetent like Sam assumed, kind of seemed more likely.


    Lucy was getting a lot of light hits in, and light damage was clear across Sachiko¡¯s rig. The mood in the bar was evident; the patrons were convinced that it would be her win. However, Sam could see something they could not; Lucy was losing speed. So that rigs with cores could compete against training models in contests without the possibility of going to a score, the monitoring system looked for any times the limit gets breached, and sections off additional power based on its prediction of how much the rig would have needed to achieve that burst. The problem was that it wasn¡¯t a very good system. Just getting close to the limit was sometime registered as going over, and it almost always overestimated the power draw. An inexperienced pilot wouldn¡¯t notice, but the longer they pressed the advantage, the worse off they would be.


    It seemed that Sachiko was aware of her opponent¡¯s power issues, since when the speed dropped, she started to make a comeback. No longer just avoiding, her three barrelled gun rotated and flared to life. She didn¡¯t aim directly at Lucy, but instead used the barrage of bullets to control where she could fly.


    With her movements pinned, Lucy didn¡¯t notice it until it was too late. The second heavy weapon Sachiko took with her fired also, with three rockets flying out. Knowing it was her best option, Lucy flew through the stream of bullets, avoiding the rockets that struck into the rear boundary. With fractures across her rig, it was only moments before Lucy would lose.


    Knowing that, she dropped a pistol and used that arm to hold the armour together as she made a sudden charge straight towards her opponent. Unable to turn in time with Lucy¡¯s movement, Sachiko was slammed into the back wall with the full force of Lucy¡¯s thrusters.


    With both their rigs nearing a state of being called tattered, it turned into a battle of endurance; a question of which rig could simply hold itself together. Both pilots knew that, and turned the remainder of their power towards armour integrity.


    Seconds passed that felt like minutes. The bar had gone silent waiting for the result.


    Another couple of seconds passed, and the winner was decided. Lucy lost; the early power drain was too much, and reinforcement was too inefficient in the lightest armour types.


    With the fight over, there was a cheer from a half the bar, as successful punters collected their winnings and more drinks were ordered. That day Sam returned to school with a dark mood. Not saying anything, she filed an informal maintenance report titled, ¡°Two damaged rigs require full work-over after match¡±.

 Chapter 9 - The Childhood Friend Battle, End Part

    Chapter 9


    ¡°Two damaged rigs require full work-over after match¡±


    ¡°Sam really wasn¡¯t kidding when she wrote that,¡± thought Jeff as he looked over the black boxes covered in cracks in all directions. They were so heavily damaged that it would be faster and probably cheaper to just send the data over to an unused rig then ship the broken rigs back to the manufacturer for repairs there. Since neither pilot would be fighting soon, it was a genuine possibility. It also had an added benefit that any waiting periods would be blamed on the admin team instead. How the rigs ended up in that state had to do with what happened at the end of the battle.


    Weapons fire had cracked the outer armour, yes, but that could be replaced easily enough, and wasn¡¯t even serious enough for the rig to return to its cube shaped standby form. What caused that was the inexperience and rashness of the pilots. So that they wouldn¡¯t lose, they each overwrote a safety limit so that the power supply could harden the frames beyond their normal limit.


    Counter-intuitively, the extra hardening worked against them. The rig was being instructed to harden, but couldn¡¯t become any denser, so it instead thickened itself, expanding the cracks by shifting too much formless particals that composed the armour as power flowed through it to hold it in a new shape. They then tried to physically hold the armour together, making the stress travel inward to the delicate internals as their enshanced strength crushed against the plate. When the fight was over, that stress was released in an instant as the rigs were realsed into their standby shape, which caused multiple failures throughout both rigs as inelastic parts came loose and snapped into other parts. That wasn¡¯t an issue that would have happened if they hadn¡¯t overwritten the safety, so thankfully the department wouldn¡¯t be blamed.


    When Jeff told Sam that they would send the rigs away, she seemed to be noticeably more cheerful. The impending overhaul had seriously brought her down, even ending her celebrating having won her bet. She had cheered up so much that Jeff even gave her the honours of organising the transfer. It was an honour that she somehow didn¡¯t seem to appreciate.


    The best part was, the rumoured rematch turned out to be real; that sniper kid was going to fight Satou again. With very little work needed on either rig, it essentially meant that he would have a weekend off. To top that off, the fight wouldn¡¯t happen until the start of the next week, meaning that the bar had time to advertise the fight and get people excited for it. Since both had personal rigs and fight history, people were more likely to watch and make bets. That in turn meant that the bet limit would be higher. It was a golden opportunity for Jeff to wipe a few more weeks off his servitude.


    That same theory was why he recommended for most people to try the hobby; the more money in the pool, the larger his share could be. It could definitely be called cruel and heartless to try and get people hooked on gambling to cut back his debt, but working at that school had left him hollowed by work and fatigue. In particular, he didn¡¯t feel bad if Sam needed to take out a scholarship; with her grades she could probably find work somewhere that didn¡¯t treat her like crap. She could even be picked up as a personal mechanist if she bothered talking to pilots. As things were, she would probably never have the chance to go to the Great Antarctic Coliseum as anything other than a spectator.


    The GAC was the largest and most advance rig arena on the planet, powered and protected by three cores, just for it. It was made at the middle of the icy lands due to a long standing international treaty, which prevented any country from owning that land. That same treaty ofbade the presence of mitiary equipment, but everyone quietly agreed that rigs were just sporting gear. That made it the perfect neutral ground where countries could compete. While professional matches would happen throughout the year, as international politics required, there was also a once every four years event, similar to the old concept of an Olympic games. While the normal matches were for the countries, the Quadrennial Games were for the pilots. Well, the pilots and manufacturers.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    The pilots would compete to establish their world ranking through a series of battles. The results of it wouldn¡¯t affect much in terms of the normal competitions, but having the world¡¯s number one pilot was a serious point of prestige for a country. For pilots that took breeding seriously, however, the ranking could also be an important thing. If two people had the same DC, then the one with the higher ranking would be preferential. Some pilots with low DC would try for a higher percentage partner by leveraging their rank; sometimes it even worked.


    The prize pool was also nothing to laugh at. Since rig manufacturers and weapons dealers would flock to it as a way to advertise their gear, it was only natural that the amount of money that the winner would take would be a large sum.


    For mechanists, being invited to work there meant that they had a pilot¡¯s complete trust, and gave them a rare chance to see what the trends amongst developers would be in the coming years. It was essentially a trade show for some of the most advanced technologies being developed. Seeing what was in the works also gave them the chance to study up those areas before they were released, making sure that they would remain at the top of the pack.


    Jeff had enough professional curiosity to want to go to one, one day, but it wasn¡¯t his immediate goal. Instead, he wanted to get out his contract as soon as possible, so that he could go work for a professional team. The pay and working conditions were a lot better in that kind of work, with the downside that it involved a lot of global travel. While that could definitely be a good thing, it was also very tiring and took a lot to get used to. The odd hours he kept were almost training for the day he took one of those jobs.


    An added downside to a job in the professional league would be the danger to his life. With entire countries at stake, it wasn¡¯t uncommon for mechanist to suddenly disappear just prior to major events, leaving crews shaken and unable to get their machines in top shape. While it was very risky for a country to target a pilot, it was very easy to target a mechanist, who would often have to travel to the destinations long in advance of the match.


    The common thinking of why mechanists were more disposable than pilots was that more mechanists could always be taught, but pilots needed to be born. Jeff found that kind of thinking to be extremely short sighted, but since he had no say on global politics, there wasn¡¯t much he could do.


    He once heard a rumour about a machinist who deliberately tampered with the rig he was working on. That man had been bribed by the competing country and was somehow more disgruntled than Jeff was. He removed a couple safety systems and the rig short circuited when it was hit with an energy attack. The pilot fell two hundred metres out of the sky, and the mechanist moved to the country that bribed him, where he was hailed as a hero.


    That was what the rumour said, the official story was that it was an overlooked or unforeseeable error that the mechanist felt so bad about that he retired and left the country out of guilt. Deep down, Jeff wished for that kind of outcome. He wanted someone to bribe him enough that he could simply retire someplace cold and never have to work again.


    With the dreams of corruption in his head, Jeff finished up his work for the day, which mostly consisted of mindlessly inputting student data into school models, and went home on time. He had the whole weekend to prepare for the match, so he managed to scrape together more money to bet then he normally was able to. He sent that money over to his contact at a different school and enjoyed a quiet Sunday of catching up on his sleep.


    After he finished the final touches on the rig on Monday, he received a call from the principle. The short of it was that since Satou was going to try to replicate the pit crew method, Sam was going to have to be his acting mechanist, as she was the senior-most undergrad. The way she said that made Jeff realise that the principle probably didn¡¯t realise that Sam was the only undergrad. Correcting her would have just made the call go on longer, so he just let it slide, realising that there was probably more than one reason why they didn¡¯t get new hires.


    However, since Satou had a rig with a core, Sam needed to have a supervisor, and that meant that Jeff would also have to go along. When he pointed out that he was scheduled to work the main system during the match, she just told him to do both. As wholly unreasonable as that sounded, he had no choice but to just agree. He could probably manage it if he prepared some scripts in advance and monitored the system from his phone. Networking external devices to the arena system was against the work policy, but he was fairly sure his working conditions were also.


    After being hung up on, he wrote up a work document for Sam and left it on her desk, for when she got back from delivering Satou and Jenna¡¯s rigs.


    ¡°Hey, we¡¯ve been assigned to help that Satou kid out with his match. You¡¯ll be taking point so make sure there¡¯s no public betting in your name on the game.¡±

 Chapter 10 - The Roommate Deploys, Part 1

    Chapter 10


    ¡°Hey, we¡¯ve been assigned to help that Satou kid out with his match. You¡¯ll be taking point so make sure there¡¯s no public betting in your name on the game.¡±


    When Sam received that message, she had no idea what would come to pass. The situation that followed was never really explained to her, but definitely affected her career. Everything seemed normal in the lead up to the start of the event; the only difference was the consideration of the other staff.


    They could easily see that Sam was nervous about her first time as a competing mechanist, and helped her out with the pre-match planning and maintenance, rather than pushing odd jobs onto her. Their support made her feel like they trusted her and wanted her to succeed. It was incredibly rare for an undergrad to have an opportunity to act as a competing mechanist, even for a school level match. It was usually only even an option in the final year of the degree, but the school had no other undergrads. It was something that would look really good on her resume if she wanted to work on a team in the future.


    The silver-white frame of Satou¡¯s rig deployed at her touch and it filled her with a sensation of power. The match was in her hands. She had control over the fate of one of the most powerful weapons ever built. That kind of intoxicating feeling filled her mind as she looked over the generic looking shape of the rig.


    To ensure that the pit method would work, the rig had been fitted from head to toe with hole like sockets that parts could be rapidly fixed in. That was a part that worried Sam; if sand or grime got into the holes before a part was inserted, the efficiency of the connection would drop. It was a particular problem for someone like Satou, whose high DC would make a grimy connection feel like he had sand under his skin. It was actually a strategic decision that she needed to make; whether to leave the holes open or place a cover on them.


    Covers would definitely prevent grime, but they would also take extra time to remove before a part could be inserted. With the really tight deadline for redeployment, it would be hard to make all of the part exchanges even without the covers. In the end, Sam decided to go without. His opponent would be using a precision weapon that would need to be avoided more than blocked. Weighing that against the risk of deploying without finishing, it made more sense to her to go without.


    In the lead up to the match, Jeff was constantly rushing between the tower and work space, trying to do two jobs at once. He wasn¡¯t really able to focus on her work while monitoring the system on his phone. When it was time to move the rigs up to the starting locations, he rushed up the tower again to work as the announcer. At that time, Sam followed him, trying to make sure she didn¡¯t miss anything in the match that would impact the parts she used.


    Jenna¡¯s rig entered the arena first, glowing with prideful and vivid red, white and blue colours as she showed her rifle to the awaiting crowd. She was hailed with cheers as her showmanship warmed people up to her. Satou¡¯s entrance was just a loudly greeted, though with no effort needed; the benefit awarded to the home team. He had ditched the pistol he had used in the previous match, instead holding a wide metal shield, the same colour as his rig. He seemed to know that attacking in the first round would do him no good, with the pit method was to bet everything on the second and third round.


    His sword too was replaced. Instead he had a small knife. It seemed to be a concession to weight, hoping to maximise his unarmoured defence while still having a method to attack if an opportunity presented itself. The only problem was that if the rig¡¯s design didn¡¯t give away his intention, the equipment certainly did.


    The moment the match began, Jenna focused everything into attack, hoping to lock out his rig before even the first round was up. Locking out was an aggressive way to win that revolved around causing enough damage that the rig reverted back to a cube, losing the first round, and also enough damage that it wouldn¡¯t be fixed in the 5 minute window. Although it was a tactic that was mostly associated with attack model rigs, Jenna¡¯s speed based sniper had more than enough impact to pull it off.


    The trick to her success was a commonly used loophole. Solid round weapons had to bring their own ammunition with them. Since they didn¡¯t want to be slowed down, they would normally only bring what they planned to use. In matches with multiple rounds, however, they were able to restock up to the number they brought out in the first round. As such, most pilots would start the first round with an extra box and dump it at the start of the match. After that, they could restock as much as they needed, not having to mind the upper limit. Since the box was often destroyed by their opponent to stop it from being regained, or by collateral damage, pilots that had to pay for their own expensive ammunition were reluctant to use that strategy.


    With the limited power of Satou¡¯s rig he could hardly make any complex movements and even the default form of a school rig was capable of more complicated manoeuvres. In that state bullet after bullet tore through his outer energy shield and struck hard against his armour. Even though the monitor, Sam could see several of the holes distort under the pressure. Since they wouldn¡¯t be usable, had had to quickly think of ways to equip parts around the damaged areas or bypass the damaged connections. All the while, Satou continued to take more damage.


    Somehow he managed to get to the end of the first round without reaching a lock out, though the metal shield would have to be completely scrapped. As per the signal Satou gave her as he docked, Sam had a heavy defence system ready to install. Before he had even finished landing, she had already started strapping lumps of thick metal into place. The black coloured parts gave a completely different atmosphere to the rig¡¯s default appearance; its dark colours and sharp edges gave it the image of a stealth bomber or a tank.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Sam somehow managed to just barely get the armour change done in time, ignoring safety standards to get it done. She told Satou about the work around as she did them. They were really not very good fixes, with the total range of motion reduced by about 30%. Sam did her calculations well, and the reduced performance would be concealable. If Satou piloted well, Jenna wouldn¡¯t even notice the problem.


    The heavy defence rig had to run out onto the field, since its thrusters were disabled to redirect the power. Thick, durable armour and an over-powered energy shield; it was a rig that could easily resist the damage from Jenna¡¯s rifle.


    But that wasn¡¯t enough to win a match. Simply resisting damage would award the round to Jenna on points. With the first round clearly hers, Satou couldn¡¯t afford to lose any more. That was where the energy for the thrusters was directed. Strapped to the back of the sleek black rig was a single large cannon. While he couldn¡¯t bring new solid ammunition into the match, energy weapons, which ran on the rig¡¯s own power, were fine with that limit. The cannon, with a barrel about the size of a very fit adult¡¯s arm, completed the tank-like look. The default armour, with its silver and white colours, was heroic in its splendour. The heavy defence frame, however, looked like the product of a cruel and efficient military.


    The stark difference between before and after the pit method shocked the crowd. They let out a wild cry as they saw the legendary technique used right before their eyes. The cries peaked even more as Satou mounted a surprise comeback.


    The bullets from the Rig-Breaker lost their power as they passed through the energy shield and fell harmlessly to the ground on contact with the dark armour. No-one could have expected such a sudden change, and Satou capitalised on that advantage. A solid stream of plasma burnt through the air and chased after Jenna like a hound. The bright light of the energy weapon prevented the accurate use of her rifle, even against a nearly unmoving target. She could only outrun the beam and hope to line up an attack before it caught up.


    That blinding light was one of the decisions Sam made. The actual damage of the weapon had to be lowered to increase the brightness, but she felt it was necessary against a sniper. The reason it was needed was, like most things in rig combat, an issue of power. The energy shield had to be lowered when the cannon fired, and without that in place, far more areas of the rig became vulnerable to Jenna¡¯s fire. Even with the shield, a well-placed shot, such as any of the damaged joints, would still result in damage. It wasn¡¯t that the cannon¡¯s output was low; any school rig that was hit it would shut down immediately. It was only against another core unit that it was in any way insufficient.


    Thankfully, the rest of Satou¡¯s rig had a low power usage. Since it was grounded, they didn¡¯t even have to waste energy with maintaining flight or countering the force of the weapon. That was one area that Jenna was definitely not winning at. By the end of the second round, Jenna had lost due to energy expenditure, mostly from her flight speed and heat shielding from narrow misses.


    In the second pit stop, Sam had enough spare time to fix some of the damage from the first round as well as prepare their secret change. The crowd waited in anticipation, wondering if they would make another drastic change for the final round. It almost seemed disappointing when the same black figure made its way out onto the field after the 5 minutes were up.


    During the break, Jenna adjusted her strategy, changing her scope with one that could block out flashes, and using heavy explosive rounds. Because her bullets flew through electromagnetic forces, she couldn¡¯t use rounds that wouldn¡¯t be affected by the energy shield, so she instead chose ones that would cause substantial damage even if they were slowed. The weight of the rounds meant that she preferred not to use them, but they were the right call to make, even Sam agreed with that.


    One minute into the final round and cracks could be seen in the black armour, revealing the silver beneath. Up until that point in the round, Satou still hadn¡¯t used the cannon that had controlled the flow of the previous round. The way that the cannon rose and fell at his back gave the impression that something was wrong; that the weapon had failed to deploy.


    Worried expressions could be seen on some of the faces around the venue, as Satou once again took a one sided beating, defensively curled like a turtle. It was at that point that Jenna flew in closely to try and finish him off. At a closer range, the energy shield wouldn¡¯t be able to slow the rounds nearly as much, and greater damage could be dealt.


    However, that was a trap.


    When she was within range, the cannon deployed on Satou¡¯s back, but it looked different to how it previously was. Instead of a single barrel it had six rotating barrels. Solid bullets flew out from it and struck into the surprised Jenna and caused her to fall backwards. While she was off balance, a series of micro-thrusters, hidden in the black armour, flared to life as he approached her in an instant.


    Moments later a dagger was piercing through Jenna¡¯s rig¡¯s core¡¯s armour; triggering it to disable and return to its box form.


    The match was over and there was confusion throughout the crowd. Where did Satou get the solid ammunition? Did he cheat? Would he be disqualified? At that moment, the main screen displayed the space where Satou had hunched over to receive the shots. Resting there, surrounded by the damage from Jenna¡¯s explosive rounds, was a green metal box about the size of a shoe box. It was the ammunition box that Jenna dropped at the start of the first round. Jenna had been shot with her own rounds. Rounds that Satou loaded while pretending to be pinned down under fire.


    That idea was Sam¡¯s. She noticed the box sitting there undamaged and unused and thought of a plan that could turn around the disadvantage that would no doubt happen in the final round. With the announcement of their team¡¯s victory Sam rushed up the tower to find Jeff.


    Jeff wasn¡¯t there, however, and instead Sam met with the principal. On her orders, Sam would be Satou¡¯s permanent mechanist and her degree would be fast tracked so that she could graduate at the same time as him. That meant that her study hours would need to increase, but the school would provide a scholarship that didn¡¯t have a repayment clause. It seemed that someone from the government had been watching, and as such they would foot the bill. Otherwise, the school was unlikely to be so generous with their spending.


    Having received such favourable conditions, Sam felt the need to rush back to the workshop to brag about it to the miser Jeff. When she arrived however, his desk was cleared and his work area uncharacteristically neat. She looked about with a worried expression before eventually finding a note placed on her desk.


    ¡°Congratulations on your first win. I might be in touch when the dust settles.¡±

 Chapter 11 - The Roommate Deploys, Part 2

    Chapter 11


    ¡°Congratulations on your first win. I might be in touch when the dust settles.¡±


    Leaving that note was the last thing he did before he left that school for what he hoped would be the final time. At the time he wrote it, Sam was doing her after match repairs as the pilots were going up on the podium for the victory to be declared.


    In a way, he was lucky that she hadn¡¯t stopped by the workshop before the match, though Jeff also had something to do with that. He hadn¡¯t wanted her to see the cleared out desk before he left, and started asking questions, so he had anyone he could help her out with her preparations so that she would be too busy to notice, but not so bussy that she would need to fetch him. That part was particularly important; if she started to suspect that something was wrong, she might have looked into the base code of the rigs.


    There was no way that Satou could have lost that match.


    Not because of his piloting. Not because he trusted his mechanist. Not because the pit method worked well.


    Those things would certainly play a part in a match, sure, but there was another undeniable reason for his victory. Jenna lost. She never had any chance of winning; Jeff made sure of that. When he first heard that Sam would be the lead machinist, and he would have control over the main system, he hatched a plan to ensure the outcome.


    He first wrote a malicious piece of software and segmented it into four parts. Jenna¡¯s rig, Satou¡¯s rig, Jeff¡¯s phone, the Arena system; each section of the code looked like scrap code left behind by past programs, something that would get cleared next time they were cleaned. But, during the match, when the four devices were connected together through the network, he could connect the pieces and activate the program.


    With it, he had subtle control over the primary elements of Jenna¡¯s rig. Secondary elements were the interface components, the parts of the rig, both reshaping and fixed that could be affected by a pilot''s direct control, like firmware that could be rewritten while in use. Primary elements however were the sections of the code that allowed the reshaping materials to form the components that ran the secondary elements. A really rough analogy would be the firmware that an assembly line in a factory ran on, but inside the device. As a side note, tertiary elements were control systems for things being manipulated by secondary elements, such as the control system for a weapon in the rig¡¯s hand.


    With Jeff controlling the primary elements, Jenna had no way of knowing there was a problem, since all of the displays were under his control. Even when she did a system check during the breaks, Jeff just had the system tell her that there weren¡¯t any issues. Without Jeff doing that, there was no way that Satou¡¯s would have survived the first round without shutting down.


    Jeff controlled the deployments system so that the power cables that connected to the Rig-Breaker Rifle would be hollow in the middle, greatly reducing the amount of power that could travel through them, while outwardly looking the same size. That way, whenever Satou was hit, the impact was far less than it should have been. Jenna might have noticed the difference in bullet speed if she was more experienced, but since the power system was telling her that it was acting normally, she believed it.


    The second round victory was also because of Jeff. Jenna trusted the speedometer more than her eyes, and simply thought that the turning speed of the cannon was faster than she thought it would be; rather than the unlikely possibility that someone had narrowed the thruster holes, making the rig slow down and heat up. He even had a plan for the third round, though that turned out to be unnecessary, since Sam¡¯s plan worked fine.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    The best part about the hacking was that no one would ever be able to prove he had anything to do with it, since the code on his phone and the system was wiped clean afterwards. No one even questioned him wiping them, since it just looked like he was hiding the mobile monitoring. Since the school would also want to keep their unreasonable treatment of staff hidden, they would also try to keep that secret for him.


    But the how wasn¡¯t even the most important part. The ¡®why¡¯ was what mattered; and it was a really big why. It was a ¡®why¡¯ with a lot of zeros after it. He bet on the match. Or rather, someone else bet on the match for him. And not just a little, it was enough to pay for his contract and still have enough to survive on while he went through the application process involved in joining a professional team.


    It would have been perfect if not for Jeff underestimating Satou¡¯s fame. Some government officials were watching the event, which meant that there was a chance that they would notice something off and investigate. As such, the moment he confirmed his winnings in his account, he transferred it to the contract account and called the principal to resign. He was surprised at first by how easily she agreed. He wasn¡¯t going to question it, and instead left the note to Sam and headed home.


    After a day spent catching up on his sleep, he logged into the Mechanists International website to start applying to various teams. On paper, he was actually a really good employee. He had never had any official reprimands or known rig failures. He even had a number of connections built up in manufacturing companies, one of the benefits of having to deal with a school¡¯s worth of rigs. He had a reputation for volunteering at a neighbouring school when it was in need and was known for his ability to get work done in small time-frames. None of that was something he wanted for himself, but they still meant that he had a very positive reputation. Even his gambling was a relatively small issue.


    Within a week of starting to look for a team, he had interviews booked for two teams. Neither job was local, but he hadn¡¯t really expected that to be the case. As it was the country where the Kaya¡¯s were believed to live, there were mechanists that moved there in the hopes of meeting them. Alicia and Sachiko Kaya had left a bad impression on Jeff so that hope didn¡¯t really mean much to him.


    One of the offers was very appealing to him, though. It was a country that recently won back some land after consecutive losses. They were formerly on the verge of following in the footsteps of many other small nations and being eaten up by large states, but with their recent win, seemed to be on the verge of a comeback. He was being offered a position as a personal machinist for a member of their junior team. Junior teams were just members that had only graduated from a pilot school within five years, so their battles were often fought over smaller bets. Instead of land, they would instead bet resources, state secrets, or key personnel.


    If he worked well with the pilot, it was likely that he would follow them when they entered the professional league. While there wasn¡¯t a junior league for the Quadrennial games, the mechanists were still often invited to the trade shows, so there was no real way for him to lose from accepting the position. The junior league even had a much lower chance of being assassinated, though still not zero.


    A further week later, he was standing in a brightly lit office building, being introduced to his new colleagues; his new pilot in particular.


    They were a soldier, one from a long line of soldiers from back when that meant something. More than anything they wanted exact commands and had an understanding of the parts used in their rig. Jeff honestly couldn¡¯t ask for a better type of pilot to work with, and after seeing their rig he could only hope to work with them for a long time.


    After a couple days of getting to know the pilot and the rig, Jeff¡¯s friend and gambling accomplice sent him a message that she wanted passed along to Sam. While the two had never met, Jeff¡¯s friend had a tendency to care for newcomers and felt that the warning was important. After hearing the news, Jeff immediately agreed. Things had been going very well for him and, from what he had heard, for Sam also, so what they knew seemed to come out of nowhere. After work had finished for the day, he verified the story and sent the warning over to Sam.


    ¡°Hey Sam, how have you been? Bad news is headed your way and it could be bad for me too if the worst happens. I¡¯ve attached the full report but the short of it is your school hired a new undergrad.¡±

 Chapter 12 - The Roommate Deploys, End Part

    Chapter 12


    ¡°Hey Sam, how have you been? Bad news is headed your way and it could be bad for me too if the worst happens. I¡¯ve attached the full report but the short of it is your school hired a new undergrad.¡±


    That news turned out to have come a bit too late, as the new undergrad turned up even before being hired. Mia Rossi, heiress to the major rig weapons manufacturing company, Rossi International Inc., was an unmatched genius who really had no business being in a piloting school. She graduated from high school at the age of eleven and was already in the final year of her rig mechanic degree. Her age was sixteen. When she heard that the DC record holder was recreating the pit method, she insisted on serving her final year as Satou¡¯s partner.


    That was how the short and curly brown-haired girl with skin like polished bronze came to the school. When a genius with wealth and connections wants something, there was nothing that could stop her from getting it. That kind of determination, as well as her looks, gained her the nickname, ¡®The Hungry Wolf¡¯. Though, from Sam¡¯s perspective, she seemed more like an excited puppy than a wolf.


    That might have also been bitterness. In order for Mia to get what she wanted Sam needed to get out of the way, and there was no way that the school was going to support Sam over Mia. Luckily for Sam, she had already started her contract so for the school to break it; they needed to give her a payout. She was even still able to continue her accelerated course, mostly due to the school being short-handed after Jeff¡¯s sudden departure. As it turned out, the principal was aware of him building funds to get out of his contract and initially planned ways to keep him around for longer, but when he went to buy out of his contract, she forgot who he was and accepted it.


    That meant that the rest of the department was working longer and harder to just get everything finished, and having Sam able to cover more jobs was something they needed. In the short time since Jeff left, they had already left Sam to work unsupervised, but writing in their reports that she was, just to get things done.


    The worst hit was the rig research section of the department. Jared, who had mostly given up on the maintenance side of rigs, hadn¡¯t returned to his lab in days. Instead, he was something akin to Sam¡¯s permanent supervisor while he finished up other jobs.


    It was a situation that was very much not being helped by semester reaching its first exam period. With that, almost every school model rig needed to be constantly updated to different users, adjusted to different training grounds and repaired when failing students used them. The worst part was that a certain oblivious student with a highly influential family name used her name to have the arena to herself to train with Satou after school. The way they trained meant that the school rig that the big breasted tree in the forest used needed to be overhauled afterwards, each time. And there was no way that the school would ever risk letting a member of the Kaya family enter a rig that hadn¡¯t been completely looked over beforehand.


    That was why Mia was a welcomed addition, even if it hurt Sam personally. Mia was now Satou¡¯s personal mechanist, so each day when they went out to train, Mia would be responsible for his rig, not them. She even, somehow, had an exemption from needing supervision. Sam hadn¡¯t even heard that that was possible as an undergrad. From what she had read, it wasn¡¯t. The difference in their power was so great it was almost palpable.


    That would have been another strike against her, if not her being so bright. She was so social and energetic, that it almost hurt Sam to look at her. Looking around the workshop, it seemed that it wasn¡¯t only Sam that felt that way. That same innocent appearance was why Sam was so surprised when she heard that Mia moved in with Satou.


    The school had a college dorms system that provided particularly nice rooms for the students, rooms much larger than Sam¡¯s apartment. Although the buildings were co-ed, the rooms were usually shared by two students of the same gender. That was aside from the international students and students with the highest grades; they could choose to have their own rooms. The school, unofficially, promoted that since it meant that there was a much higher chance for the students they wanted to breed would do so. Future high-achievments pilots would be produced and there was a chance that international students who got knocked up, or got someone knocked up, would migrate. The country¡¯s legal age for that meant nothing since it was being deliberately overlooked.


    Knowing what living together implied, Sam was really surprised that the young mechanist was that bold. In the end, she concluded that it was probably just how the world of the rich was.


    It was also strange to see a mechanist do that, since doing so was like jumping into a tiger¡¯s den. Even though polygamy was legal, it was still a very rare occurrence, with most people still having more traditional relationships. The exception would be amongst rig pilots, which had a disproportionate amount of it compared with the rest of the population; though that was mostly accounted for by political marriages and marriages for the sake of kids. That meant that even if Satou was obviously in a relationship, there would still be people trying to get mixed in.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Another couple weeks of exhausting worked passed by, and Sam was greeted by an unexpected guest as she walked into work, still very early in the morning. Long Black hair right down her back, tall with a focused, yet somehow soft, expression, two towering piles of useless fat on her chest; it was Sachiko Kaya. Apparently she had heard about Sam being kicked away from Satou, and noticed that even after the exam period had ended, no one had tried to recruit her as their own personal mechanist. As such she wanted to try and hire Sam herself.


    That Sachiko even noticed Sam¡¯s existence was a good sign for her as a pilot, especially since her earlier decisions had only left bad impressions, but her noticing a mechanist could really be because of her background. The Kaya family had a special relationship with mechanists. On one hand, they provided the cores that allowed them to run the rigs that were their jobs. On the other hand, accidentally triggering the anti-tampering defences resulted in over a third of all mechanist deaths. While those measures were needed to control how the power was used, it was still a bitter thing to work so closely to what would likely be their deaths.


    In particular, they had denied the union¡¯s request to know exactly what set off each of the incidents, as even if it would prevent others from making the same mistakes, it would aid people in working out ways around it. Since they were treated almost like necessary sacrifices, there was a number of mechanists that held bitter feelings towards them. There were also many that held them up in reverence, maybe even a majority. It was, however, a constant threat that they had to be aware of. If anyone was ever going to snap and attack a Kaya, it was most likely going to be a mechanist. As such, they were always taught to acknowledge the lives and works of mechanists.


    Since Sam was still in an accelerated course, it made a lot of sense for her to pair up with a pilot, and doing so would basically force the school to hire more staff, so she promised to think about it and get back to her.


    Sam thought to herself after Sachiko left, and she felt that she would likely accept. Not just for the benefits, but also because Sachiko was so sincere about it. Sam was approached before work, even though that was extremely inconvenient to Sachiko, and when she said she wanted time to think about it, Sachiko gave it to her and didn¡¯t try to use her position or family to pressure her. It felt like she was being genuinely respected, like her choice in the matter was actually important. Feeling like that, Sam started to actually want to work with her.


    That was another part she liked; ¡®with¡¯, not ¡®for¡¯. When she had heard the other members talk about their experiences getting asked, it was always ¡®for¡¯. Pilots weren¡¯t after partners; their rig was their partner. To them a mechanist was like a friend¡¯s doctor; kind of important but not directly relevant. That kind of thing wasn¡¯t how Sachiko¡¯s invitation sounded. It sounded much more like a partnership.


    Two days later, Sam signed a partnership agreement.


    It was rare for a pilot without a personal rig to have a personal mechanist, though not unheard of, but no one really made much of a fuss, since Sachiko could have one any time she wanted. There were even rumours that she knew how to make a core, though since her mother¡¯s cores only started production several years after she was rumoured to have started her apprenticeship, it was very unlikely.


    Sam¡¯s agreement with Satou was one that was formalised with the school, so the school had control over the arrangement, and risks, but the agreement with Sachiko was organised between the two. As such, Sam wouldn¡¯t charge fees to Sachiko, but would instead get a share of her winnings. Even school level tournaments had substantial prizes, so losing a consistent fee still worked out as a profit if Sachiko did well in those events. Even if she didn¡¯t do well, Sam would still receive a retaining fee from the government, so long as Sachiko entered the events as a resident of the country. The amount wouldn¡¯t pay for her sleepless, but it would cover living expenses. With the payout from the school, Sam¡¯s degree was paid for, so, with her job, Sam wouldn¡¯t be short for a while to come.


    Another week passed, and the school managed to hire two new mechanist; both fresh out of university and no way ready for what they signed up for. They seemed to have used some connections during their degree to do work experience in research labs, and hadn¡¯t thought about the workload involved in a school. What was even more unfortunate, they joined not long after an exam block, so things were fairly peaceful. By the time things got bad again, the cooling-off period would have passed and they would have to pay a large fee to break the contract.


    Someone could warn them, but then the department would be short on workers again. It was the camaraderie of the damned; so long as they¡¯re stuck there, everyone¡¯s stuck there.


    More surprising than the principal tricking two poor souls was an announcement made by government event organisers. It was a one off Junior League event against a neighbouring country. Apparently both countries were developing new rig components and the prize that was being bet was the designers. What made it different to normal was that there would also be an inter-school event over just the designs.


    Considering the even terms, low risk and involvement of school rigs, it was very likely that the event was intended as a friendly meeting between countries more than an actual competitive tournament. Since there was a prize pool, however, the pilots involved would still take the event incredibly seriously.


    Recognising the name of one of the teams entering the Junior League, Sam realised that Jeff would be entering. Furthermore, the top three from the School League would be able to enter the Junior League, if they had a rig with a core. After school finished, Sam rushed over to meet with her partner to show her the news. Seeing Sam¡¯s enthusiasm, she agreed to ask her mother for a core. After hearing that, Sam sent a message to Jeff.


    ¡°You¡¯d better look out; my partner and I are headed to that friendly international. If you¡¯re not careful, your partner''s rig¡¯ll hit the arena hard!¡±

 Chapter 13 - The Soldier Sorties, Part 1

    Chapter 13


    ¡°You¡¯d better look out; my partner and I are headed to that friendly international. If you¡¯re not careful, your partner''s rig¡¯ll hit the arena hard!¡±


    In the middle of his workshop, Jeff started laughing while reading that. It wasn¡¯t just the absurdity of it, but also the confidence. While school pilots entered junior tournaments fairly regularly, they never got beyond the second round. The difference in real combat experience was simply far too great. They also faced an unfair match in terms of equipment. Although Rig parts were relatively cheap, the parts used in school model rigs were out-dated. While rigs manufactured a lot of their own internals, the designs that they used could be expensive. Licensing fees for proprietary parts was almost as expensive as manufactured parts and using unlicensed parts in a competition was grounds for disqualification. That was why school league pilots, who had access to lower paying matches, tended to have worse parts.


    There was an exception, of course, for people with wealthy backgrounds or connections to the design companies. Talented pilots could also gain licenses through sponsorship deals, or through winning matches with their licenses as the ante. That kind of challenge was dangerous to accept, as it usually lead to a spiral of losses, were their conditions got worse and desperation got greater.


    Ensuring that all licenses were up to date was one of the key reasons for having a personal mechanist, as having multiple companies involved sometimes led to confusion. At the very least, a personal accountant could be substituted there.


    Hearing Jeff suddenly start laughing, his pilot walked over to see what happened. In the month that they had worked together, Savannah Luca, hadn¡¯t once seen her mechanist do that, and was naturally curious. She was average height for a woman her age, though the thick layers of muscles on her tone body tended to either make her seem taller or shorter than she was, depending on perspective. It was a strange effect that was somehow heightened by her dark coloured skin. Jeff insisted that her crew cut hair added to the effect, but one of the other pilots, Bradley Wright, said that it was actually somehow worse when she grew her hair out.


    Coming from a long line of soldiers, she was completely comfortable as she walked about wearing fatigues and heavy boots, even in the relaxed environment of the workshop. Sav¡¯s rig even reflected that to a large extent. It could be called an irregular type, or maybe just an abnormal attack type, but it definitely reflected a type of military adaptability.


    It was, at its core, a lightly armour full body type that focused on physical arms over energy weapons and retained a lot of energy for customising for specific opponents. It wasn¡¯t like the pit method, where parts were changed in the match, it was about changing parts before the match to target the opponent. It was a very strong theory, but one that required a pilot with excellent adaptability, and a mechanist able to work quickly and research well. Jeff¡¯s experience at that school was basically the best preparation they could have asked for; he spent years researching pilots and adapting rigs for them nearly every day.


    Although Sav seemed stiff and overbearing at first, as Jeff got to know her, he realised that she had a kind of naivet¨¦ about her that was almost endearing. The way she paid careful attention to the condition of her rig, and ensuring that she was there for, and understood, every step of the maintenance also left a positive impression. That allowed the two of them plenty of opportunities to talk and made their teamwork blossom. Whenever Savannah felt the rig was even the slightest bit off, she was comfortable to report it and discuss whether it was something to change or improve. Whenever Jeff noticed extra strain on some parts, he could tell her about it to correct errors in her manoeuvres.


    In the month since Jeff started there, she had become the most improved member of the junior team.


    One of the interesting things Jeff learnt about Sav during that time was that she hadn¡¯t attended a piloting school, and had therefore never been in a school league tournament. With her family having a tendency to travel, she had to be home-schooled for her education and learnt rig piloting from soldiers on the various bases, in various countries, she visited. As each country needed to have at least one rig prepaired for defensive deployment at all times, but it being a waste to have the core not being utilised, most bases had a kind of quick-detach version of the school training field. The quick detach versions would only only tap the core for processing and only slightly for the power, leaving the rest of the field to be powered by more conventional means. As the rig with the core could remain deployed while the the training feild was used, the significantly reduced performance was an acceptible trade off.


    The mixed together piloting method certainly reflected having dozens of teachers, in Jeff¡¯s opinion. Her focus on building physical strength was actually something she had learnt from one of those teachers; ¡°Rig piloting is about reaction speed, so if your DC is lower than your opponent''s make up the difference with your body.¡± That was what they said and it was certainly a reasonable method, though not a widely used one. Most piloting schools felt that beyond a certain point, if you have time to train, you have time to pilot. That wasn¡¯t an unreasonable way of thinking either; experience was the best way to pick a winner.


    Sav¡¯s learning method did give her one edge that other pilots didn¡¯t have; extra time to practise. Whenever she was taught a martial art or a new way to use a gun, she adapted it into rig combat. It meant that she could train to use a rig, even when she didn¡¯t have a rig with her.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    That was the number one reason why Sam¡¯s message was funny to him; there was no way in hell his partner would lose.


    Without much event history, they would be entering the event unseeded. That meant that it was far more likely that they would have to fight school league pilots, with the way the rounds were organised. That was slightly troubling for Jeff, since that meant less information to work with, but was also a good warm up for Sav.


    The match was going to be held in a school arena that was recently won back from an enemy country, so while it was a home game tournament for Jeff¡¯s team, neither side were particularly familiar with the area. Jeff, as a mechanist, would have to go there in advance to scope out the area. While that would normally be his job alone, Savannah was planning to go along with him, using the time to acclimatise and insure that the conditions wouldn¡¯t affect the rig. When Jeff heard that, he felt completely relieved. Although assassination attempts were unlikely in a friendly event, there was still a risk. With a rig next to him, however, that risk approached zero with there being little chance of success and no chance of escape afterwards.


    A couple days passed and they were standing outside the event arena. It went for the same Colosseum design that he was used to, though was more newly constructed then the one at the previous school. A notable difference was in the efficiency of the energy shields that protected the crowds. Although it was designed as a school venue, they had clearly intended more for it to function as fighting grounds rather than a learning facility. That was evident through the way the power was distributed. The field only had enough energy projectors for two school models at a time, and instead focused on shielding. That would mean that only two students could use the space at once, slowing down training and limiting availability. On the other hand, it ensured that even if two attack type rigs with cores were to hit the shields at the same time the crowd wouldn¡¯t be in danger.


    The shield generators, that made it possible for one core to overpower four rigs, worked by being far, far more energy efficient. While it had been attempted many times, no one had ever succeeded in reaching anything like the same efficiency with a portable generator, like what a rig used. Arena shield generators were large, each one was almost the size of a full rig, and was filled with delicate parts that couldn¡¯t be easily moved.


    Unlike what Jeff was used to, the city they were in was inland, and the summer heat varied hugely between day and night. The air was also incredibly dry, meaning energy based weapons wouldn¡¯t have their impact limited by the ambient moisture. So long as that didn¡¯t change before the start of the junior matches, they would be able to try out their latest plan.


    The junior matches were scheduled to start on the Monday of the week following the school division. That meant that there was still plenty of time for the weather to change, but was also plenty of time to get used to the conditions.


    Looking around, Jeff saw a familiar face amongst the other mechanists checking out the venue. Sam was there, dragging a cart filled with parts towards her team¡¯s workshop. Earlier that day, he saw a truck making deliveries and had assumed that Sam¡¯s parts were included, but it seemed that the school was still practising favouritism.


    Walking up to her, he let out an exaggerated sigh, to get her attention and set the mood, before saying, ¡°How many more trips before you¡¯re done?¡±


    Sam¡¯s face lit up with surprise as she turned around and noticed him, but quickly hid it to play along, ¡°Only another three trips. Thankfully the admin staff were able to get my delivery truck permission to travel into the outer ring, otherwise I¡¯d never have found the time to exercise.¡±


    From her snarky tone, it seemed that Sam was starting to believe his, ¡®admin are out to get us¡¯ theory. Better late than never. After that, he introduced Sam and Savannah to each other. To both Jeff and Sam¡¯s surprise, Sav offered to use her rig to help move the boxes. Something about that felt kind of wrong, but convenience made them cave and Sam accepted the help. After that, Jeff didn¡¯t see Sam until the start of the school league matches.


    Sam, whose mysterious partner was apparently the youngest Kaya, had her first match on the opening day. Sachiko¡¯s rig seemed to have been outfitted with a core and the existing weapons had been replaced with even larger ones to match the new power supply. Her usual Gatling gun was replaced with one with an even larger barrel, it was more like a rotating rail gun than a normal projectile weapon, since it had so many magnetic boosters and stabilisers attached. Her missile launcher was also enlarged, opting for additional capacity over more explosive yield. That made a lot of sense, since they were already very effective and the additional 5 shots allowed more leeway to include more niche explosive types. Knowing Sam, Jeff suspected they were probably capitalising on that.


    Since there was very little public data on the way the students would fight, there wasn¡¯t much choice but to watch the matches if they wanted useful data. Watching was also helpful for ensuring that the stadium didn¡¯t have any secrets or twists that needed to be known. As such, there were a lot of mechanists from the junior divisions in the crowd for those matches.


    Sachiko¡¯s first opponent was a defence and evasion type that tried to use both armour and speed to wear down their opponent¡¯s power levels before using the weight of the armour to inflict blows. It was an incredibly one sided match, as, although that strategy was one that would work on some opponents, it was the perfect enemy for Sachiko¡¯s rig.


    The Gatling gun tore through the shields and quickly turned the main thruster to Swiss cheese, leaving the main armour to be cooked by missiles. Jeff¡¯s suspicion seemed to be on the money as one of the missiles used, in addition to the normal type, was a high-heat warhead that raised the armours temperature and left it more vulnerable to force. Before even half of the first round was up, Sachiko¡¯s opponent had their system locked out. They didn¡¯t seem to have a personal mechanist, and weren¡¯t able to repair before the 5 minutes were up, thus losing the second round also.


    After that match was over, Jeff sent a message to Sam.


    ¡°Congratulations on the easy win; the variety pack missile launcher is a nice touch.¡±

 Chapter 14 - The Soldier Sorties, Part 2

    Chapter 14


    ¡°Congratulations on the easy win; the variety pack missile launcher is a nice touch.¡±


    Reading that message, Sam felt like her worries came true. She told Sachiko to only use the custom missiles if they were needed or could be hidden, so when they were used in the barrage of explosives she had hoped no one would see. It was evident from that message that Jeff was warning her that she was easily seen through.


    If the secret was blown, they only had a couple options; pretend that the heat rounds were the only ones or use the variety as a staple. It was unlikely that many people from the school league noticed, and given the extra expense of the custom missiles it was reasonable to assume that heat was the only option. With that in mind they would continue to pretend unless it was necessary to do otherwise.


    Another problem they were facing was the expenses that were building up, even after a single round in a single match. Sachiko was used to unloading everything she had at her opponents and that meant they had to continue to buy more bullets. The government subsidised the price of bullets to the point where the rounds that Sachiko¡¯s old weapon used were nearly free, but the same couldn¡¯t be said about the new, more powerful gun. Since each bullet was considerably more expensive, they were burning through their reserves far too quickly.


    The school did provide an allowance to cover some of the tournament expenses, but at the rate they were going, it would be used up before the finals. After that, they would have to use the winnings from the school league to pay for the Junior League. While Sam was stressing about that another message arrived from Jeff.


    ¡°Think about the weather conditions more.¡±


    Her mind went blank for several minutes, trying to work out what he meant. Finally giving up, she went outside to try and find inspiration. The hot sun cooked her skin from the moment she left the air conditioned comfort of the workshop. With that, she realised that his hint was entirely too obvious. Because the school and university were in Sam¡¯s hometown, she had built up an image in her mind that attack builds had to use solid rounds. That was because the air in that city was entirely too wet, dropping only as low as 75% humidity on its driest days. Since too much energy was wasted in environments like that, she was used to dismissing the energy weapon option off hand.


    But the town they were in was different; it was so dry that it felt like the moisturiser she had applied would evaporate in seconds. The environment was only a couple percentages off the lab testing conditions the weapons were built for. Without the need to pay for ammunition, it was exactly what she needed.


    The only problem was that they didn¡¯t own any. There were some that were publicly licensed by her country and other¡¯s that were available internationally, but those kinds of free weapons were never very good. Especially since their designs could be looked up at will, so the opponent could easily know where the vulnerabilities were. There best bet would be to borrow a physical weapon from somewhere.


    That was when she remembered her team-mates, Satou and Mia. Mia had access to all of the Rossi Manufacturing licences, as well as having a lot of spare weapons that she would never use.


    After talking it through with her, they made a deal over the use of a licence. Sachiko would be able to use the weapon in any fight of the school or Junior League matches, except for during matches against Satou. Furthermore, the licensing fee was a little more than a tenth of what it would normally be. It was a generous offer when considering Mia¡¯s responsibilities.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    With that sorted, the Gatling was replaced with an energy beam weapon, almost as large as it was. The strengthened arms were no longer needed so they were removed in order to provide additional power to the beam. That left Sam with a choice. Since the strengthened arms were removed from one side, the other side would feel off balance. On the other hand, the strengthened arms were needed for the larger missile launcher.


    A competent pilot could adapt to being off balance, or in some cases even use the strange weight distribution to make more unexpected movements, so it was really a matter of pilot comfort. For inexperienced pilots, however, comfort could have a large impact on performance. While Sam was sure that Sachiko could eventually adapt, with no time to prepare, it was a far safer option to balance out the rig. The plus side to that was they would have ever fewer expenses from having to restock fewer missiles.


    With that decision made, Sam spent the remainder of the day implementing the changes so that they could be compiled overnight, Sachiko could train in the rig in the morning.


    Their next match was a lot tighter than the last. The fight started at around midday on the second day, with only a few hours to get use to the changes and repair any damage from the practice. Their opponent was another attack type rig, but one that used weapons proprietary to their families company. The weapons were a rig-scale railgun crossbow with a variety of bolts that continued to harass and confuse. The worst part was their speed; the low rate of fire was compensated for with a speed that would be respectable in a speed type rig. The only notable drop in speed was when they needed to manually rearm their weapon, which caused the entire rig to slow for a full second. Sam couldn¡¯t imagine the force of the bow if it strained the power of a rig that heavily.


    While that was an obvious weak point, the pilot was always careful about when to do it, and would often deploy traps and mines to create the time they needed. The worst was when they started to reload the moment after shooting, leading Sachiko to think that they were planning to use her dodging as a safe opportunity, when it turned out that the bolt they shot had an explosive charge in it, so even after avoiding it, she was still thrown off balance.


    That steady harassment meant that the first round was won by the other side on points.


    In the second round, they started to get the hang of the bowman¡¯s tricks, and more importantly stopped falling for them as often. After avoiding a lot more successfully and scoring a lot of light hits, Sachiko evened out the score.


    The final round was the where the difference really started to show. The bowman seemed to be out of tricks and Sachiko controlled the round from start to finish. The round ended when he tried to do the explosive bolt trick again, only to have Sachiko shoot the weapon as it fired, causing the bolt to detonate and destroy the weapon. Surprisingly, a number of other unused bolts also got caught in the heat and also activated, causing the rig to system freeze and left the pilot to fall from the sky, shattering both legs. That was one of the most common injuries in the sport.


    After the repairs were finished for the day, they spent their remaining time watching the opponent they would face the following day. It was actually fairly worrying; they were going to be facing an abnormal type rig in the semi-finals. The pilot was the only child of the legendary pilot, ¡®Black Spider Donna¡¯, who specialised in stealth based combat. From what they saw, or rather didn¡¯t see, their opponent had learnt from their mother well.


    Throughout the match they watched, they only caught four glimpses of the rig; the start and end of each round. Through a combination of stealth, traps and speed, the match ended without the second generation spider taking any damage.


    On the other side of the arena, Sam spotted Jeff was in the crowd. Without hesitating for even a second, she sent him a message.


    ¡°How do you fight something like that?¡±

 Chapter 15 - The Soldier Sorties, Part 3

    Chapter 15


    ¡°How do you fight something like that?¡±


    Jeff understood that Sam was still very new to the sport, but was still a little disappointed that she got distracted by what she was watching and forgot the first lesson a mechanist learns; ¡®There is no magic, only parts.¡¯ It was such a fundamental point, that it was all he was willing to send her. If she didn¡¯t catch on, then her loss would be a good learning experience.


    ¡®There is no magic, only parts.¡¯


    On entering a competition, all rig parts were registered in the entry form and any parts added later had to be registered on a separate form attached to the same file. As such, no matter how mysterious the stealth technique seemed, how it was achieved could be looked up by anyone.


    Sure enough, after 10 minutes of skimming through the list, Jeff had the answer. That was why stealth type rigs were rarely successful; the match was always decided before it begins.


    Different types of stealth technology worked in different ways, some blind, others hide and others still disappear. To blind meant to impede the opponent''s sight and sensors. To hide meant to camouflage or otherwise change so that they can¡¯t be discovered. To disappear meant to not be where the opponent is looking, either through confusion or constantly moving. Those three methods were the basis for stealth. As with all forms of rig combat, effectively using those things was a matter of balancing power. Ideally, a pilot would want all of them to be maximised, but doing so would leave no energy for anything else, such as a weapon.


    The trick that the Second Black Spider pulled was different to the first. The first retired after their method was revealed; that she had a lot of extra parts equipped to make their opponent focus on those parts, which were never active to begin with, when she really only stayed hidden, buried under the arena surface and attacked with a variety of silent weapons and traps. The second seemed much different, they seemed to be actually using all three, and their only weapon was a single throwing knife on a string.


    The part that tipped Jeff off was the lack of weapons. There were a lot of weapons listed as spare, but if you paid close attention, there was only one type that was ever listed as used; small and throw-able weapons. Knowing that, even without knowing how the trick worked, it was still possible to beat them. All they had to do was fight defensively and strap on as many layers of armour they could find. As great as the knife-wire seemed, it still wouldn¡¯t be able to put a cut in the thickest of armours. Energy shields wouldn¡¯t work, though; it was too easy to just ground the field with the wire to let the knife through. That was how the previous defence types failed.


    Even if they couldn¡¯t get enough armour for everywhere, the more they had, the fewer options the opponent had for where to strike. If the options were limited, it became possible to lay a trap and attack when the trap was tripped.


    Weapons aside, Jeff admired the designs behind some of the equipment being used. In particular, a set of deployable spikes were launched throughout the arena. Each one had a signal jammer, wind maker, hologram emitter and its own battery. While the hologram made wasn¡¯t very high quality, if a shadow was made out of the corner of their opponent¡¯s vision, while blowing dirt up at that moment, they would be convinced that the spider had moved there. It was really a must have for stealth rigs. The downside was that it was a disposable item so using a lot of them would be expensive.


    When the match started, it was clear that Sam had either not understood his message, or had something else planned. Sachiko¡¯s rig was deployed with the energy weapon unequipped and the rocket pod''s capacity enlarged. Furthermore, they had a larger thruster installed. From the moment he saw it, Jeff and every other mechanist knew what their plan was; ¡®If you can¡¯t find them, hit everywhere.¡¯


    It wouldn¡¯t necessarily be a bad compromise, but the way they counted damaging themselves, a better thruster to avoid the exposions, gave too many options to their opponent. Since they were both fast, they both just needed to be in the same space. Spider could just follow behind them and be in no danger. It was also bad due to their opponent being a wire user. So long as wires were strong, they could kill a speed type effortlessly. And there was no way that a wire strengthed by formless particals and a rig''s core wouldn''t be strong. The usual way that was countered was by fortifying a physical shield in the flight direction and using sensors to avoid hazards. With signal blockers throughout the field, however, trusting sensors would be a mistake.


    Sure enough, that was how the first round ended, as she attempted to fly away from an explosion she caused, a tort wire cut through the shield and severed the armour on Sachiko¡¯s arm, only a hair''s breadth away from shaving her arm. While intentionally killing an opponent in rig combat was internationally illegal, inadvertent, and seemingly inadvertent, death was a real part of the sport. Luckily for Sachiko, it was the arm that would normally have housed the cannon or gatling, so even if the damage wasn¡¯t fixed during the break, it wasn¡¯t the largest of losses.


    What were needed, however, were the thrusters that were mounted on that arm. Even if the wing thrusters were mostly undamaged by the wire, without them a lot of complicated movements would be a lot harder to perform. It was also a glaring weakness that few people would pass up. Without the arm mounted emitters, the rest of the bodies shield emitters had to cover up the hole. That meant the shields throughout the whole rig were weakened, but it was particularly weak at the arm. A well placed attack wouldn¡¯t be slowed in the slightest by that kind of weakened shield.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The round ended after thirty seconds of starting, when a blade passed through the gap and straight into the main thruster. It was a scalpel like attack that made Sachiko fall from the sky like a stoned bird. As she collided heavily with the ground, the system froze up and reverted to its cube shape.


    During the break, Sam showed off her skills and managed to get the rig to redeploy before the time was up. She worked skilfully enough that she even had time to equip a jury rigged solution to the missing arm. A metal buckler style shield with a thruster pack strapped to its underside with wires, both control and power, visibly trailing from it to the body.


    Even taking an attitude of, ¡®what works is what¡¯s good¡¯ that kind of workaround really didn¡¯t seem good. From the starting point, the thruster had a different power level and was in a slightly different location. With that kind of sudden change, it was more likely to be a liability than a use but both Sam and Sachiko seemed proud of their ingenuity.


    With that kind of rig in use, the second round started.


    Tension filled the ring as Sachiko hovered around looking for any sign of her opponent. Feeling like they completely had control of the match and victory in their hands, the Spider toyed with its prey and let her flail about looking at shadows.


    For a full minute there was nothing. No sign that her opponent was even in the field. Then suddenly, dust kicked up to Sachiko¡¯s side and she immediately turned to launch a missile. The deep roar of the explosive warhead ripped through the crowd as the metal of a rig was torn, flying across the arena grounds.


    It had been a trap. A trap that Sachiko completely fell for. Her rig fell from the sky and into the ground as an attack from behind severed her rig¡¯s wings. The planned and careful precision of that attack was only possible with complete domination. But somehow, they still had more planned.


    The amount of damage taken from that attack was substantial, but it was still short of what was needed to cause the rig to revert. Sachiko wasn¡¯t able to fly, but she still had to fight against an invisible flying enemy. Worse still, her only weapon was the missile launcher, which was far less effective if aiming down wasn¡¯t an option. With Jeff¡¯s contentment at his job, he hadn¡¯t felt the need to go gambling; a decision he regretted greatly when looking at how one-sided the match was.


    Even in that position, the Spider didn¡¯t finish her off.


    The match eventually timed out, leading to Sachiko¡¯s humiliating defeat through points. By not finishing her off, even after cutting off her wings, the Spider was effectively saying, ¡°You¡¯re not even worth my effort.¡±


    Finishing a fight in such an insulting way at an event meant to foster friendship was a dangerous game to play, but even more so when the target of that was the third generation Kaya. Governments were already uncomfortable just letting the Kaya¡¯s compete in such dangerous sports, not willing to risk angering the supplier of rig cores. To actively try and enrage them was the same as treason, attempting to harm the country itself. Anyone would think that the second Black Spider was insane.


    That was, anyone who didn¡¯t know their personal history. It was a history that Jeff had uncovered in his research.


    Black Spider Donna and Alicia B. Kaya were bitter enemies, though very few people knew about it, and even fewer understood why. Donna discovered Alicia¡¯s identity as the mysterious pit mechanist very early in their careers, and at first they didn¡¯t really do anything about it, it having no real impact on Donna¡¯s life so she had no issue keeping it quiet.


    That was until Sara Campbell revealed her pit method to the world. After running the numbers with her mechanist, it was clear to Donna that Alicia was cheating. When Donna confronted her about it Alicia lied straight to her face and said that she was doing nothing of the sort.


    After that, Donna took half a year off from rig combat only to return to the sport with the first Black Spider rig. From the reports Jeff had read, before the time off, Donna had been an optimistic person who saw rig combat as mankind¡¯s greatest invention, a way to end wars and save lives. Once she returned however, she seemed completely different. The ¡®Black Spider¡¯ moniker was in reference to her combat style and colour choice, but it was also about her personality.


    Dark, venomous and mercenary; rigs had become a means to an end. She had even received sanctions for taking side-jobs in tormenting her opponents during the matches for money, harming them mentally so they would never pilot again. Several times she had been quoted saying, ¡°This sport is corrupt and disgusting, so why shouldn¡¯t I be?¡±


    Alicia hadn¡¯t taken the change well, and saw Donna as a corrupting influence on the shining system that her mother built. Alicia even petitioned to have Donna¡¯s core taken from her, an action that Erin Kaya blocked, using her influence as the creator. Rumour had it that Erin wanted Donna to continue piloting as a lesson to Alicia, that her actions had consequences, though from the repeated petitions, if that was the case then the lesson wasn¡¯t learnt.


    Prior to her retirement, Black Spider Donna¡¯s legacy was something she absolutely prided herself for; never having lost to Sara Campbell. The greatest weakness of the pit method was the first round vulnerability, and the Black Spider¡¯s strength was in its ability to overwhelm from the start. It was one of the best methods to overcome Sara, and it was most likely designed that way. For so long as her hiding method stayed hidden, Donna could claim that she was a better pilot than Alicia was mechanist.


    In the end, someone completely unrelated discovered Donna¡¯s method, and Alicia retired before they could have a final match.


    It seemed from the second Black Spider¡¯s attitude that the grudge had been passed down through the family tree. Jeff felt that was a little unfair for Sam and Sachiko, but that kind of rivalry could be beneficial to their growth.


    Thinking about something that would be a small comfort, Jeff messaged Sam.


    ¡°Even if you¡¯ve lost now, if you win the runners-up match and get third, you can still make it into the Junior League. If you make it there, you can get a rematch.¡±

 Chapter 16 - The Soldier Sorties, Part 4

    Chapter 16


    ¡°Even if you¡¯ve lost now, if you win the runners-up match and get third, you can still make it into the Junior League. If you make it there, you can get a rematch.¡±


    The message Jeff sent wasn¡¯t very comforting to Sam, especially when both she and Sachiko were in need of something to vent their frustration over. It did, however, give them a goal. Sachiko¡¯s bright orange rig had been mostly reduced to scrap and had to be dragged out of the arena. The damage and work that was awaiting them was in no way as frustrating as the minutes they had to wait while their opponent lost interest in them. They were treated like dirt, like they weren¡¯t even there, but if they acted out in frustration they could have been ended at any moment.


    It was for the best that they had to suck up their pride and wait for the end of the fight, but it still annoyed Sam to no end. The worst part was, Jeff had sent her a warning, one that contained the most basic lesson in a mechanist degree, but Sam still had no idea what he meant. Looking through the parts list didn¡¯t really reveal anything to her; they registered dozens of different parts as spares and actives, and the effect she saw during the match seemed far greater than what the listed parts said.


    ¡®Could they have been cheating? Was that what Jeff was saying?¡¯ As Sam thought that she immediately knew it wasn¡¯t the case. As corrupt and money-grubbing as Jeff was, he would never risk not reporting known cheating. That was mostly due to him being so risk-averse; getting caught knowing about cheating and not saying anything meant being de-registered.


    That meant that there had to be something in the registration data that she was overlooking. That just added to her frustration, since she didn¡¯t even have time to look into it. The other semi-final would be on the next day, and their next match would be the day after that. While that would normally mean that they would have the advantage over their opponent in terms of time, with the condition Sachiko¡¯s rig was in, they would be lucky to be able to get it running in time.


    After finding all of the broken parts she could and reverting them back into formless rig particles she found that she was still missing 2% of the rig¡¯s mass. It was normal to losses 0.1% mass after a match, and that amount could be regrown by the core, the amount they lost was simply too much to regrow in the short amount of time they had. That meant that new mass of formless particles needed to be grafted into the rig¡¯s cube and made to match the existing matter. If nothing went wrong, and they found the exact brand and series as the rest of the matter, that meant at least eight hours of compiling time for each percentage lost.


    On top of that, a large number of the physical parts were also broken in the fight, especially parts in the wings, arms and legs, where the bulk of the damage was taken. While she had spares for most of the pieces she needed to replace, there were some that she hadn¡¯t thought she would need. Especially wing joint components, they were so resistant that even mechanists in the professional league only replaced them once a year. They were a high stress part, a common failure point in early models, so they used to be one of the most commonly replaced parts. But that had meant there was a lot of money to be made, which spawned competition between manufacturers had resulted in a durable that almost never needed changing. With so few of them ever needed, parts shops didn''t always stock them. That meant that Sam needed to rush about town looking for parts as well as completing the forms to get them registered after she bought them. With only two days to get that done, Sam could really feel the pressure.


    Her first point was to organise parts and particles; everything else was secondary since if she couldn¡¯t find them, then everything else wouldn¡¯t happen. Looking through an online phonebook, she quickly found a list of dealers in the area and started phoning around. After a few hours on the phone, she had organised to buy most of the parts she needed, though a couple could only be purchased directly from a manufacturer, which would cause more delays as they would have to ship it out.


    Formless particles were also a problem. While most particles performed basically the same, different manufacturers used different encoding methods to ensure that rival companies couldn¡¯t steal their designs. That also meant that mixing brands was very difficult to do, and most mechanists considered any cost saving made by doing so was lost in the time spent making it work. To make matters even more confusing, several companies had experimented with different encoding types over the years, so blindly choosing particles from the same company sometimes didn¡¯t work either. Unfortunately, Sachiko¡¯s rig was made by one of those makers, and as such Sam needed to find particles from a specific group of production years.


    That meant by the end of the day, she had only managed to by three quarters of the mass they needed. While that was a fairly big problem, it was one that could be overcome by reprogramming the armour¡¯s configuration to deduce density in some locations. The issue with that was how much time doing that would take. Thankfully, with fewer formless particles being added, the compiling time would be slightly reduced.


    For other mechanists, Sam¡¯s work schedule over the preceding two days would have likely been impossible, but with her use of sleepless, she managed to power through without taking a break. The only time she stopped was when the compiling was taking place, and there wasn¡¯t anything else she could do. It was at one such moment, sixteen hours away from the next match, when she actually looked up who they would be fighting.


    Lauren Riveria, Lucy¡¯s twin sister.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    Not only did they have identical appearances, they also had identical rigs. It was very nearly the best match up, since it would be a good way for Sachiko to vent her frustration. Sam had heard that Sachiko was still annoyed over the fight she had with Lucy. Even though she won, the result was simply too close. It was a fight against someone that looked just like someone she wanted to fight. Sachiko had been lazing about the workshop with a bad expression while Sam worked so anything to put her back in a good mood was welcome.


    It would have been better if their opponent was actually Lucy, but since international students couldn¡¯t compete in that tournament, Lauren would have to do. Sam did find it strange; however, that Lucy chose to study abroad, when her own country was so close. In the end, it was probably to give herself a point of difference over her otherwise same sister.


    Lauren¡¯s rig being the same as Lucy¡¯s was also lucky, since it meant that they were already familiar with it, and had some understanding on how to fight against it. Just like her sister, Lauren¡¯s rig was only equipped with an energy based pistol and a sword.


    Looking at her combat data, however, and the settings on her rig, there seemed to be a huge difference between them. Simply put, Lauren was better. Even if they both had rigs built for speed, the blackout safety limits on were much, much higher for Lauren. That meant she was able to make sharper and faster turns without risking blackouts, or needing to use power to support her body. Her career accuracy rating, as short as her career had so far been, was more than ten percent higher. Considering that that accuracy rating was taken while moving at a much faster average speed, there was no doubt that Lauren was the better shot. If the pair was to fight, even with identical rigs, nine to one times Lauren would win.


    Even if Sachiko won the fight against Lucy, the margin was very slim. Considering how much better Lauren was, it seemed to Sam that Sachiko stood a good chance of losing. As much as they didn¡¯t want to waste money, in order to stand a chance, custom missiles were going to be necessary to win. When Sam told that to Sachiko, she simply huffed, and said, ¡°I won before and I¡¯ll win again. My rigs improved and I¡¯ve got you now. So what if this Lucy is better than the last.¡±


    While her confidence was reassuring, it slightly worried Sam that she was thinking of Lauren as just another Lucy.


    As a few hours passed, the match for third place began. Both contestants met in the centre of the arena. To Sachiko¡¯s surprise, Laura started the match off by sending a call to her display. It was a very rare thing for pilots to talk during a fight, especially since they had such short rounds. Out of curiosity, Sachiko accepted the call. As her mechanist, Sam could also hear the conversation.


    ¡°I watched you beat sis in a match not long ago. I also heard that you were trying to take Sou from her. Because of that, I¡¯ll beat you down in the name of justice.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯ll beat down who?! Let¡¯s see how confident you are once you taste my missiles.¡±


    With that, Sachiko launched a surprise attack with a missile, an attack that was easily avoided with the difference in their speed. Experiencing it for herself, Sam realised just how different the difference in speed between Lucy and Lauren really was. Where the blue-green colour of Lucy¡¯s rig made her difficult to see, on Lauren¡¯s rig it made her essentially invisible.


    Not knowing where to attack, Sachiko let loose with her energy cannon, trying to get a lucky shot in. It really wasn¡¯t effective and the return fire from Lauren¡¯s small pistol was deadly with its accuracy. Even if most of the damage was being absorbed by the rig¡¯s shield, it was still draining power at an alarming rate. It seemed that in order to maximise the drain from each attack, Lauren was targeting directly above the shield emitters; when that place was hit it caused a burst of power-draw to compensate for the amount that was lost.


    The way the attacks were happening with precision and out of nowhere, it was almost exactly like their fight with the Black Spider.


    In fact, it seemed entirely too much like Black Spider. Thinking that, Sam brought up the footage from that match and overlaid it with the current fight. Sure enough, every attack was placed in the same locations and from the same directions as in the previous fight. Lauren had watched their fight and was recreating it. That meant they knew where the next attack would be coming from, but only if Sachiko also noticed.


    Sam stared at the screen intently, hoping that Sachiko would realise what was going on, watching her get chipped away at. Each of Lauren¡¯s attacks was far weaker than Spider¡¯s, so they would often double up to try for the same result.


    Suddenly, the decisive moment of the match came; the moment when the wire cut off Sachiko¡¯s rig¡¯s arm.


    Sam held her breath as that moment drew nearer. Previously, Sachiko avoided hurting her arm by the thinnest of margins, and that was with wire as a medium. Since Lauren only had a sword to replicate the effect with, it was unlikely that Sachiko would be so lucky again.


    Then it happened. The speeding blade tore through the air and the sound of metal striking against metal reverberated through the stadium. Moments later, blood poured over the grass of the arena grounds. Moments later still, a rig impacted with the soil, leaving a dragging crater in its wake.


    The crowd met the spectacle with a shocked silence, followed by the deafening roar as the blood hungry group saw what they came to see. The blade of Lauren¡¯s sword sliced through the right wing, through the shoulder mounted missile launcher and sunk deeply into Sachiko¡¯s fleshy arm. But the Blade had been slowed too much by the layers of metal it passed through the reach there, and couldn¡¯t retract fast enough.


    That left Lauren vulnerable and open to Sachiko¡¯s cannon, that shot out at a distance that could almost be called touching. The energy ripped through Lauren¡¯s shield, armour and flesh, severing a leg and searing the wound. After that, Lauren passed out from the pain, and her rig hit the ground heavily, though didn¡¯t retract. It was good that it didn¡¯t, the frame prevented any further harm, and kept her stable until the medics arrived.


    From what Sam had seen through the monitor, and from the medical brief knowledge that was included in her degree, it was a wound that would require a prosthetic replacement, but wouldn¡¯t end her career. Since prosthetic limbs used the same basic technology as rigs, pilots could operate them almost instantly, requiring little more than a day of rehab, and there were some cases where pilots had improved their performance after losing a natural limb.


    Needless to say, that was the end of the match and it was Sachiko¡¯s victory. With that, they claimed third place and the right to fight in the Junior League. After taking Sachiko to the medics, Sam sent a message to Jeff.


    ¡°Looks like we get to have that match; don¡¯t lose before we get to you.¡±

 Chapter 17 - The Soldier Sorties, Part 5

    Chapter 17


    ¡°Looks like we get to have that match; don¡¯t lose before we get to you.¡±


    When Jeff received that message, he was busy at work in the workshop of the hospital. Since Lauren didn¡¯t have a personal mechanist, he volunteered to go in and match the settings of her new prosthetic with the settings on her rig. Once she got used to having the new limb, he would also teach her about the regular maintenance that would be required. It would be for the best if she hired a mechanist that had experience with prosthetics to make sure it stayed synced with her rig, but that was her own decision to make.


    In another place, he probably would have enjoyed that text, but it felt a little inappropriate in a hospital. That was especially the case since Lauren wasn¡¯t the only one injured in that match. In the bed across from Lauren was Sachiko, a living example of paying for a bad decision. Despite being her partner, Sam wasn¡¯t there with her as the rig was once again damaged with a short window to fix it. That was also why she was able to remain so happy over her victory, unaware that Sachiko¡¯s condition was just as bad as Lauren¡¯s. The result was the same as the fight with Lucy; victory by holding herself together for slightly longer.


    Sachiko¡¯s arm was filled with formless rig particles from both her own failing rig¡¯s wings and armour. But that wasn¡¯t the worst part; that went to the missile launcher filled with an array of different chemicals that got mixed together when cut. Her arm was contaminated with so many stray elements that it was simply beyond saving, and to prevent damage to the rest of her body it would be amputated. When the procedure was done, someone would call Sam and she would have to learn prosthetic maintenance also. While Jeff admitted that Sachiko¡¯s finisher was an effective turn-around, he still disagreed with it.


    Prosthetic limbs and organs were actually very commonplace, especially after antibiotics became ineffective, and the exposure to them often led pilots and mechanist to shrug off needing them. Even if the rig particles they contained meant that there was no danger of infection, and the sensation transmission meant that anyone with a DC above 5% would feel everything, like it was a natural body part, Jeff still felt like there was something just wrong about being casual about losing parts of their bodies. The only people who would really be affected by having a prosthetic limb would be a rig pilot; if the particles in the limbs weren¡¯t calibrated to either completely match or cancel, they could cause interference with the structure and commands of a rig.


    But more than anything, the part Jeff disliked was the risk taking they promoted. Pilots tended to avoid taking shots against the head and heart, if for no other reason than to avoid the penalties for deliberate killing, but they didn¡¯t have the same hesitation when it came to maiming. Since a replacement could just be stuck on and they could potentially be back at work before their rig was even fixed, there didn¡¯t feel like there was a consequence to taking aggressive actions. Since there was no way the medical team could possibly save every pilot that gets seriously injured, the number of accidental deaths that attitude caused was too high for comfort.


    Despite Jeff¡¯s dislike for the cavalier way pilots treated their bodies, he recognised that he was hardly a in a position to pass judgement. The only exercise he ever did was shifting boxes of heavy parts and running between workplaces. The paleness of his skin also proudly displayed how his lifestyle affected his wellbeing. More than anything though, he wasn¡¯t about to let his personal feelings affect his work, and made sure that the limb was calibrated perfectly.


    A staff member of the hospital provided him with the exact size, weight and receiver frequencies that the leg needed, and they left it up to Jeff to ensure that it met those requirements while still being compatible with the rig. Sometimes, though, there was simply no way to balance the frequencies; the rig and limb controls collide in ways that can¡¯t be solved. An example of that would be the piloting teacher Deborah Burgess, who was forced to retire after her leg was injured. Even though she requested a leg amputation, the calculations they did before the procedure showed that any limb she could use would be incompatible with a rig. That was why she ended up keeping her infected leg; a coreless rig was better than no rig.


    The number of command frequencies that a person could use was not entirely understood, though it was somehow linked to DC. For roughly every 5% extra DC a person had, they had an additional frequency and the more frequencies a person has the better the chance that two would be compatible. For pilots, who already required high DC, the chance of being able to use prosthetics and rigs was very likely.


    Without a kind of casing, a normal prosthetic limb looked like a thinner version of a skeleton¡¯s limb, but with smooth spheres were each joint would be. At the section that connected to the body was a part that looked like an asterisk made of segmented blades. They would insert themselves into the body and dig into bone. Once connected the blades would dissolve into formless rig particles and blend the prosthetic limb and flesh to form a permanent connection. Once the connection was made, a covering could be placed over the limb to make it seem more natural.


    While working at the school, Jeff had a few opportunities to work on limbs, both fitting and maintaining, and breezed through the setting up without any issues. Since Lauren had a DC of 56%, there were many frequencies to choose from.


    Later that day, Lauren woke up with her new leg attached. After a few moments of shock, she worked out what had happened and quietly started to work through the rehab. In contrast to the bold confidence she showed before her fight, she, in that moment, seemed somehow broken. A week earlier, Jeff had seen her at a meeting where the school representatives met up with the junior division teams to get tips from their seniors. At that time, he spoke with her briefly, as she seemed to somehow know that he had worked at Lucy¡¯s school. As they spoke, she mentioned how much she liked and respected her sister, and how she always felt bad that their family favoured her over Lucy.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    That was why Lauren always made her rig match her sister¡¯s, so that any achievement she made would be somehow reflected onto Lucy. Jeff really didn¡¯t have the heart to tell her that all that achieved was further overshadowing Lucy by showing that the differences in their performances were only due to talent and skill.


    The little bubble of vibrant joy from that event, who could speak endlessly about her sister; there wasn¡¯t a trace of that in the girl that sat on that glum hospital bed. She simply stared at the black case-less leg, as occasionally the bone-like toes would spasm. Her skin had been a healthy kind of pale before, but it had turned a sickly shade that was more to do with the shock than the blood loss. While she had a transfusion, they hadn¡¯t completely replaced the amount lost, since being short on blood helped the body to adjust to the new limb and formless particles.


    Seeing tears fall onto the leg, hearing ¡°We don¡¯t match.¡± being repeated in a hushed, barely audible, tone, Jeff reached his limit. Stopping his work monitoring the leg through a computer, he fished through his bag and pulled out a small green cylinder about the size of a spool of thread. Walking up beside her, slowly so that she didn¡¯t get surprised, he placed the tube against her mechanical limb. A moment later, the outermost layer of that leg split into a liquid-like state and absorbed the tube halfway inside of itself.


    ¡°There, now your recovery should take twice as long.¡± He said with a reassuring tone, that didn¡¯t match at all with the words he said.


    ¡°Eh?¡± Naturally, those made Lauren react in confusion. ¡°Why would you do that? What did you even do?¡±


    Still with an attempt at reassurance, Jeff explained, ¡°That tube contains extra formless particles, ones that are a 50% hybrid of your and your rig¡¯s. The extra particles will make control harder, and only controlling your arm and not the rig will take longer still. On the other hand, if you can control it, you¡¯ll be a more precise pilot than anyone else your age and will also give you a reserve of particles to make patchwork repairs with as you fight. So, what do you want, remove it and give up on piloting or get used to it and win next time.¡±


    After a few moments, the confusion faded and a determined look spread across her face.


    ¡°How many of those do you have?¡±


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­


    The first round of the Junior League started and tension was building in the workshop. On the first day of matches both Bradley Wright and Savannah had to fight against school league opponents. Embarrassing the team and country, Brad managed to lose his match with Satou, winning the first round on points and then losing the following two, playing straight into their opponent''s advantage.


    Following his lead and losing would be unbearable, and both Jeff and Sav were on edge with their preparations. They knew the theory behind how their opponent worked, they had countermeasures planned, they rehearsed what they were going to do and they had more experience than their opponent did. There really wasn¡¯t any reason to lose, but neither of them could shake a nameless worry. They knew that the second Black Spider was a tricky person, and one that was more than willing to use expensive disposable items to win.


    Sav¡¯s rig had been fitted with thicker armour, towing the line of performance with a thickness that was calculated to be just higher than the spider¡¯s knife¡¯s highest output. With the calculations made in advance, they only had to use a specific amount of weight. That left a greater amount that could be used in other systems, like movement or attack. Erring on the side of caution, the extra mass was left in an unfixed state where it could quickly replace damaged systems. It could be called either a handicap or an insurance plan; if their plan worked well it wouldn¡¯t be needed, but if something went wrong then it would be easier to patch things up in the 5 minutes between rounds.


    The Rig had taken on more of a blue tint during the refitting, so Jeff decided to hide that by colouring the whole rig with an urban camouflage pattern. It was a little bit childish, but Jeff also used a few different material types thinly throughout the rig just so he could put them on the parts list. Anyone paying careful attention would be able to notice which ones were actually used, but it was his petty revenge for having to look through the spider¡¯s manifest in such detail. Since they didn¡¯t seem to have a personal mechanist of their own, and relied on borrowing one from the junior team, Black Spider would likely have had to look through the sheets himself, without the benefit of a mechanist¡¯s experience.


    At one point during the designing phase, Jeff got tired and needed to take a break. It was then that he had a thought that he hadn¡¯t noticed before. He was a personal mechanist. He was Sav¡¯s personal mechanist, but he was forgetting to do one of the most important jobs; marketing. Crowd support was an important edge, since it had long been shown that athletes perform better while being encouraged by the crowd. It was a purely psychological advantage, but every advantage counted.


    For a normal person, just there to enjoy the sport and not caring about the politics, rig combat was about the spectacle. There were bright colours, loud impacts, explosions and blood; everything a good game needed. In that sense, Stealth types were boring to watch, simply because there wasn¡¯t anything to watch. Sure, there was tension that created excitement when something actually happened, but that kind of match was nowhere near as popular as two attack types pelting missiles, or two speed types dancing through the sky.


    With that in mind, Jeff customised the rig¡¯s appearance, maximising the advantage and drawing in the crowd¡¯s imagination. Reshaping any part that wouldn¡¯t lower performance, he took the rig, which formerly looked entirely practical, and gave it a form that people would cheer for. In the end, it took the best parts of modern military armour and the best parts of a suit of plate mail, and blended them seamlessly into the design. Complete with a solid round hybrid rifle, designed to look and function like a human scale assault weapon, it was a look that seemed to be filled with the patriotism that only a military force could inspire. The wings were also reshaped. Instead of the high performance design most rigs used, they were shaped to look more like great metal bird wings, which gave off a faint white light.


    It might have been slightly over the top, but the angelic knight look was definitely one that would ensnare imaginations.


    The choice of weapon was a hard one to balance. Precision weapons weren¡¯t a favourable choice when dealing with a stealth type, but it was also Jeff and Sav¡¯s first major fight together, and their collective pride told them that they needed to show how they planned to fight. No gimmicks, no type cycles, just pure efficient strategy and preparation. With that in mind, they equipped a gun that was basically just an old assault rifle, made larger and had electro-propulsion rails along the barrel. The hybrid weapon burnt gunpowder to get the motion started then finished the acceleration with magnetism. It was more cost effective, energy wise, but still required solid bullets be brought in. Since they would only enter the field with one spare magazine filled with thirty-two bullets, after that, they would need to rely on the bayonet attached to the weapon.


    As the rig flew out into the field, Jeff made a final system check, both of his monitoring computer and of the rig¡¯s transited systems. Taking a deep breath, he messaged Sam.


    ¡°Wish me luck.¡±

 Chapter 18 - The Soldier Sorties, Part 6

    Chapter 18


    ¡°Wish me luck.¡±


    From that message, Sam could tell that Jeff was nervous about the match. Having been in the same circumstances, watching as her pilot went out to fight Black Spider, she could really understand where those feelings came from.


    But she also knew that Jeff wasn¡¯t entirely like her. From what she could gather, he had seen through how the stealth worked. From the parts that his pilot had equipped, it seemed like he had something in mind, though she couldn¡¯t be sure what. A physical round, assault type weapon seemed like a terrible match up, but she trusted that they knew what they were doing. In order to try and figure out what they had in mind, Sam looked through the parts registry, only to find herself bogged down by a list of clearly misleading parts.


    While there wasn¡¯t anything in the rules against inflating the list, especially since the majority of pilots wouldn¡¯t even look at it, but it was considered dirty and petty by most mechanists. Seeing some of the armour masses were listed in grams and milligrams, it couldn¡¯t be more blatant that that was what Jeff was doing. As petty as it was, after seeing Black Spider¡¯s part list Sam definitely also felt like doing the same thing.


    She was watching the match on a live broadcast while in the hospital. Sachiko¡¯s prosthetic arm fitting went smoothly and it wasn¡¯t likely that there would be any problems, but they decided to stay there while Sachiko got completely use to it and Sam finished learning everything she had to know about mixing prosthetics and rigs. It was hard to say whether it was a little or a lot, but there were definitely a number of things that she had to learn. A lot of the things were things she already covered in her degree, but the new details were often more complex or tedious. The biggest thing she had to remember was to ensure that none of the parts she added to the rig affected its frequency or interfered with the prosthetic.


    For the most part, physical parts contributed the most to any change in the frequency. It was another consequence of corporate secrecy and competition, that rig parts often had their own unique resonance, that when compiled with the signals from every other part, created the unique frequency of the rig. Since even two parts on the same manufacturing line could have a different resonance, the overall frequency could change drastically with every routine check-up. A sudden change like that wouldn¡¯t put a pilot¡¯s life in danger, but it could put a slight delay, less than a fraction of a second, in thoughts being converted into actions; that would only get longer with the greater the sudden change. That was one of the reasons for the amount of time it took to compile the rig¡¯s programming, a large portion of that time was spent adapting the formless particles to correct any changes in the frequency as close as possible to an ideal signal, which varied depending on the pilot.


    Another big time drain was a failsafe program that the industry body required all mechanist to run. Although there was very little known about what triggered a core¡¯s self-protection, the few things that were known were all added into a program that would look through any proposed changes and flagged anything that would cause the core to detonate. It consumed time, but whenever a red flag message popped up, every mechanist was glad to have it.


    Sachiko was next to Sam on a couch in the hospital¡¯s lobby, also taking a break to watch the match. She was wearing a pale coloured summer dress with thin straps that showed off her new arm with pride. The development of the prosthetic limbs was something that added to the Kaya family legacy. At the time, Sachiko¡¯s great-grandmother hadn¡¯t taken the surname Kaya, but was said to have developed the formless particle technology, used both in the limbs and in rigs, in conjunction with her daughter. Her daughter, Sachiko¡¯s grandmother, was said to have funded the development of cores using the profits from the early model rigs.


    Since the development of the particles was largely funded by the military, there was said to have been conflict between them and Erin Kaya over rigs being excluded from aggressive military actions. Although it might not be true, it was said that the higher-ups in the military referred to Erin as ¡®The Great Traitor¡¯ out of sheer disgust. There wasn¡¯t much they could do about it, if they didn¡¯t have rigs to defend themselves they could be overrun; while they split resources between attack and defence, opposing countries would place everything into attacking while leaving one person to defend in a rig.


    Suddenly, Sachiko raised her sleek new black coloured arm, which joined seamlessly to her body, to point at the screen while saying, ¡°Look, it¡¯s starting.¡±


    Looking up at the screen Sam could see that the match was indeed starting. Sav¡¯s blue patterned rig landed in the centre of the arena from the moment the match started, and took a knee, steadying her weapon with both hands. It seemed like a strange move, one better suited to a defence type rig. With all of the bloating in the part list, Sam didn¡¯t really know how strong the armour was, but, just based on the appearance; it didn¡¯t look like it could take any heavy blows.


    After a moment without any movements, Sav shot twice at the ground to her side a couple hundred meters away before making a roll in the other direction. The blade of the Black Spider slashed through the air that Sav had occupied only moments earlier and cut an incision into the arena grounds.


    With a trained motion, Sav exited the roll by pushing off the ground, reversing her motion. While the spider was still recovering from the attempted attack, Sav brought her rig¡¯s fist to bear and sent a powerful punch into her opponent¡¯s side, about wear the kidney would have been in a human. The attack connected and flakes of armour fell off the rig, sending dust into the air.


    Attacking with a rig¡¯s fist was a very rare thing to do, given that it would normally damage both sides equally, and Sam had never seen it done in a match. It seemed that it was something that Jeff had prepared in advance, however, since the armour on that arm seemed mostly undamaged while a crack filled crater could be seen on the spider¡¯s body.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    The attack was so successful since it caught everyone completely off guard. A pilot¡¯s movements were usually predicted based on the direction of the wing thrusters or the weapon. Since the wings were pointed to move further away, both Sam and Sachiko assumed that she wouldn¡¯t be able to turn around in time. Since there was no way that the rifle could have turned fast enough, they had assumed that no retaliation was possible. By using strange body movements that could only be done on the land and attacking with her hands, Sav caused the first damage to her overconfident opponent.


    After that connection, Black Spider disappeared again, vanishing into the air.


    This time Sav didn¡¯t wait, but instead acted aggressively, targeting the invisible target no matter where he ran. At first, Sam had no idea how it was being accomplished, but soon realised; the crack in the armour wasn¡¯t cloaking. No matter how the spider ran, there was still a visible crack that could be easily seen. And it only got worse as the fight went on. After six clean hits, there were already enough holes in the cloak that hiding was already pointless.


    Knowing that hiding wouldn¡¯t work, Black Spider changed their tactic, and charged towards Sav, using wires to pull himself faster towards their foe. It was clearly a desperate measure, but it was also the only option that Sam could see for them.


    The spider¡¯s flight path was erratic, pulled alternately by wires and thrusters, and the angle of attack seemed completely unknowable. Closer and closer, the forward charge meant the impact from the blade would be far beyond what Jeff had prepared for, and would likely cut through Sav¡¯s armour like butter.


    When Black Spider was only moments away from the attack something suddenly changed.


    The wire was cut while it was being used and they were sent sprawling as control over their motion was unexpectedly lost. The culprit for that was a well-placed bullet.


    Sav didn¡¯t fail to capitalise on her opponent¡¯s loss and made a forward charge of her own. As she ran, she scooped sand from the ground and propelled herself forward with precise bursts from the thrusters.


    As the distance between them reached zero, Sav dropped her rifle, letting the sling catch it, and let out a flurry of punches from a boxing stance. Blow after blow, the black coloured rig got thrown about like a sandbag as the controlled punches prevented recovery while chipping away at the rig¡¯s integrity.


    With one heavy final blow, Sav¡¯s fist embedded itself in her opponent¡¯s chest, piercing through like a spear. As the blow was about to crush the pilot to death, the rig¡¯s system froze over and it withdrew itself into its black cube form. Even though it was someone else¡¯s fight, and only the first round, Sam couldn¡¯t help but feel some satisfaction on seeing the person that beat them toyed with and beaten without being able to fight back at all.


    As the pilot fell to the ground, he could be seen clutching his side in pain. It looked like the rig hadn¡¯t retracted in time and the pilot still received some of the crushing impact. With a blow like that, it was almost certain that he would have some broken ribs.


    As the medical team did their work and applied a rigid frame over the broken bones, it would be up to him as to whether he felt up to continuing or not. Painkillers would impede his piloting so if he did, every movement would likely be made in pain. The pilot''s face could be clearly seen on the broadcast, and while he was clearly in a lot of pain, he still looked entirely determined to continue the match. While he came to that decision, a mechanist from his school spent the 5 minute break getting his rig just barely back to operable.


    With all of its stealth systems completely disabled, they finally could see the rig that they lost to. The most notable feature was its abnormal back. Instead of a set of wings, it had an abdomen like structure with several wire pullers, thrusters and ports, to launch miniature missiles from. Braced on the bottom of both arms were wire launchers, and held in one of the arms was a knife that could connect itself to the wires. It was a rig that was built entirely around making a web. The armour was still fractured and dented from the previous round, but its black, lightless lustre still gave it an ominous appearance.


    At the end of the break, Sav lazily walked her rig out into the open without even bothering to ready her rifle. It was almost like she was planning to surrender.


    Seeing her blas¨¦ attitude, the spider¡¯s abdomen lowered and several missiles spread out an embedded themselves throughout the arena. A flash of light then burst in front of him and by the time it cleared he was gone.


    Only he wasn¡¯t really gone. Instead the field was filled with dozens of identical black rigs, all standing there facing Sav. Anyone that was familiar with stealth theory could guess that it was a series of holograms, but there was still a real one amongst them.


    If Sav had brought a weapon with an area effect, or even just a much faster shooting one, that trick wouldn¡¯t be so much of a problem, but with the weapon Sav had, if she guessed the wrong target, the real one would have an opportunity to strike. Excitement could be heard from the crowd, as a match that was almost over suddenly got revitalised and turned into a match of wits and chance. Even in the hospital, people had started to gather around to see how it would unfold.


    Then, as fast as the tension built, the tension was destroyed.


    Sav spun around to face one of the targets and lined up a clean shot, shooting through the four limbs and causing it to seize up. It was clear that she had known exactly where her opponent was and ended the match without wasting time.


    As the pilot fell once again to the ground, with a face of disbelief and confusion, Sav pelted something next to him. It was a broken piece of one of the hologram projectors. When she saw that, Sam finally understood how they had done it. It all started with the very first action of the first round.


    It seemed strange at the time; that Sav had shot wildly at a distraction just prior to dodging the first attack, but Sam had assumed it was a ploy to trap Black Spider, but that wasn¡¯t the only reason. When Sav dealt the final attack of the first round, she had scooped something up off the ground as she moved. The thing she picked up was the hologram projector she had shot earlier. Since it was broken, spider wouldn¡¯t have noticed that it was missing, and since he was busy getting treated, he wouldn¡¯t have noticed Jeff examining it during the break. The mechanist on the other side was also just a temporary worker, and probably didn¡¯t even know about the holograms, let alone that they should have their signals checked and changed between rounds. Knowing the signals that the holograms used, Sav was able to see through them, and to her, the arena was always only filled with the two of them.


    Even if the crowd didn¡¯t understand what happened, and it hadn¡¯t turned out like they expected, they still cheered for Sav¡¯s victory. Considering that it was junior pilot beating a school pilot, the result was somewhat expected, but with Black Spider¡¯s performance in the school league, the victory still seemed impressive.


    After the match was over and the broadcast ended, Sam messaged Jeff.


    ¡°Congratulations on your win. You really meant it when you said matches are decided before they begin.¡±

 Chapter 19 - The Soldier Sorties, Final Part

    Chapter 19


    ¡°Congratulations on your win. You really meant it when you said matches are decided before they begin.¡±


    It was a flawless victory, a better result than he could have hoped for. It was a little disappointing that they had to crush a rising star from their country, but it was a great way to show the world what their partnership could do. With no damage being done to the rig, Jeff was able to just give it a check-up while preparing for the next match. From the looks of things, they even had a day off between matches, due to scheduling. There were few ways that his day could get any better.


    The second day of the junior league matches was between Sachiko and a pilot from the same country, as well as a match to determine who would fight the winner of the first match two days after that. That meant that Savannah¡¯s next opponents would be Satou and Mia. Of all the school league pilots in the series, they were the ones that Jeff considered the biggest threat. That wasn¡¯t because of Satou, but rather because of Mia.


    Mia ¡®The Hungry Wolf¡¯ Rossi was the heiress to Rossi International Inc., and as playful and innocent as she seemed, she was still a direct descendant of the Rossi family, and Jeff had no doubt that she was every bit like the rest of her family.


    Before the invention of the rig, and war changed throughout the world, the Rossi family was an arms manufacturer that stopped at nothing to try and put one of their guns in the hands of anyone with cash. With their networks, logistics and prices, if there was a war crime happening somewhere in the world, probability said that it was done with one of their weapons. Yet despite that, they still managed to walk openly in the streets, free and without any worries about authorities. They were well practised in the art of keeping a clean public face.


    When rigs changed everything, they seized on the opportunity, and invested heavily in the development of new ways to arm them. It paid off for them too, both in terms of finance and reputation. While before people saw them as a lump they couldn¡¯t prove was cancerous, now they were upstanding businessmen that ensured the land¡¯s protectors were equipped with what they needed to win. In a single generation they had gone from reluctantly tolerated to upheld and revered.


    Despite that, some people still thought that the family continued its shady past, and simply got better at hiding it. As cynical as Jeff was, there was no way that he would believe that Mia was just some innocent genius, unaware of her family¡¯s past and duties. As much as Jeff thought that Satou was an idiot that felt too much more than he thought, the tiger hiding behind him was real.


    In particular was the threat that came from her wealth. While victory couldn¡¯t be bought, only a fool would think that it played no part. With her as the mechanist and footing the bill, Satou could use as many disposable items and bullets as he liked, within the limit of the rules, and never even notice they weren¡¯t earning anything. Furthermore, they were able to use better parts licences, filled their workshops with better parts or could afford to do none of that and just hire someone to have Jeff killed. Money gave them a lot of options to work with.


    While being vigilant of unaccompanied bags and staying clear of windows, Jeff set out developing a plan that would maximise their chance of winning. The obvious way was well known, hit them hard in the first round and damage them beyond recovery, but just following the obvious answer didn¡¯t feel right. He and Savannah showed the world that they could win with preparation and strategy, just following a formulaic counter wasn¡¯t something that matched well with that image.


    Their image was another reason not to simply overwhelm in the first round. They built support from crushing their opponent completely since their image was of an angelic warrior slaying a monster, but that wouldn¡¯t work against Satou. Satou had crowd appeal; both due to his record high DC as well as his knightly rig designs. Putting two knights in the field and having one of them thrash the other would just paint them as the bad guys. Once that label was attached, it wouldn¡¯t come off quickly, so it was best to save it till it was absolutely needed.


    Instead, Jeff thought of the perfect way to work the crowd in their favour, while still ensuring that the other side couldn¡¯t win. The basic idea was to be the underdogs. While their age divisions were different, most people still had a lot of hopes for Satou¡¯s potential. That was something they could work with, so long as Satou appeared to win the first round the basic purpose of the pit method, gathering information to adapt with, they could make a turnaround in the following rounds to with both the match and the people. The trick would be inflicting damage carefully, hitting areas that would be difficult to fix, but weren¡¯t worth many points. If they deployed without the connection ports covered, then they would be ideal targets, though even with the covers they were still fairly good.


    Another problem was making themselves seem vulnerable enough to seem like the underdog, while not actually being weak enough to lose, all without making the opponent suspicious about what they had planned.


    It took nearly half a day for Jeff to come up with the ideal solution. In the end, Jeff stumbled across some very old weapon designs while looking into Rossi International Inc. and the idea came to him. Some energy weapons in the earliest days of rig combat had a backpack unit which held power in a large capacitor-like device, in order to fire a single burst that was far stronger than what could normally be managed. It was a design that very quickly fell into disuse when wing thrusters became normal. Rigs with wings were simply too much better at avoiding, making the extra power pointless. But that was just the kind of thing that Jeff was looking for, not for the weapon, but for a reason to remove the wings.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    A rig without wings was at such an obvious disadvantage, that no one would ever expect them to stand even a chance at winning. But Sav had already proven that she could dodge and move effectively with just the body thrusters. Using overconfidence as an excuse, they could equip a backpack weapon and people would just assume that they were trying to follow the standard plan and deal critical damage as quickly as possible.


    Another benefit was that the backpacks were discarded technology, and licenses for their use were either as cheap as possible or free.


    Considering the bloating that Jeff placed in the parts list of the previous fight, if Mia looked into what they had planned, it would just look like Jeff was doing the same thing and buying up free and cheap licences as a diversion. No mechanist in their right mind would think that they were actually going deploy without wings, so they would be expecting the paperwork to be changed at the last minute. Jeff kind of wished he could see her face when she realised that that wasn¡¯t happening.


    For the sake of brand recognition, Jeff kept the rig in the same colours and general shape, only changing the armour composition and losing the wings. Instead he put a couple small wings on the rig¡¯s helmet, partially to for aesthetic reasons and partially as a joke. In the rig¡¯s right hand, it had a massive weapon that was shaped like a lance with a barrel running below the shaft, covered in rings and coils. It struck a balance between medieval and futuristic while walking a much thinner tightrope to the rest of the rig. Simply put, the four meter long weapon didn¡¯t match the rest of the rig. That was especially apparent when a rig scale pistol and knife were added to the rig¡¯s belt equivalent.


    With the remaining time before the start of Sam¡¯s next match, Jeff modified the weapons to match his plans, and set the program aside to compile. While that was happening, he and Sav went to watch the match.


    Sachiko¡¯s opponent was a Junior League pilot from the same country, and while they were in no way a bad pilot, they weren¡¯t a good one either. They didn¡¯t take any risks, which some people would see as a positive, and preferred to wear an opponent down before taking any actions. They embodied the mentality of a defence type pilot and it was reflected in their rig.


    The rig was a dull iron colour and was fitted with enough armour plates that it seemed to be round or egg shaped. Even the wings were thick and heavy, with thrusters that would only barely be able to move that solid mass. Its uninspired form was actually one of the worst match ups for Sachiko. It would be possible for her to win, but it would be a win by points and cost them heavily in ammunition. Bullets would only cause thin scratches and it would take a constant barrage of a high density energy weapon to melt the armour. The only really way to deal damage would be with missiles or other weapons that could deal damage with impact.


    When Sachiko entered the ring, it was clear that Sam had thought about that issue and reached a reasonable answer. That bright orange rig ditched the cannon in favour of a sledge hammer. The lump of heavy metal on a stick had a thruster attached to one side, making it faster to swing and able to be used to make more complicated movements. It was very possible for a weapon like that to deal visible damage against the grey armoured egg. Not enough to stop it, but enough to score points.


    So long as Sachiko could put some dents in it without getting hit, she could win the match. It would even go well for her with the crowd.


    Defence types were boring to watch. They were slow, rarely had flashy moves, and didn¡¯t take much damage. That made it frustrating to watch someone shoot at them and nothing happen. But a hammer was different. There was a catharsis to watching something you hate get pummelled repeatedly with a hammer. The longer the match went on, the more the crowd would hate that lump of metal and the more they would love Sachiko for wailing on it.


    The first round went as expected, with the defender getting beaten around by the rocket propelled hammer. Small dents started to appear in the outer layers of the armour, and that was enough to award the first round to Sachiko. The defender made some attempts at attacking but none of them were fast enough to hit. Sachiko realised the importance of deceptive movements from watching Sav fight, and started using the hammer to make her movements less predictable.


    The second round went even better, as Sachiko opened by hitting a wing with a well-placed missile and hammering the falling opponent into the ground and not letting them stand back up. By the end of that round, Sachiko had almost mined her way through all of the armour, and was completely exhausted. Despite her fatigue, she lifted her hammer triumphantly into the sky, showing off both it and her new arm.


    After her victory was officially announced one of the event organisers, a tired old man in an expensive suit, addressed the crowd.


    ¡°Firstly I thank everyone for gathering to watch these games, as our countries enter into a new era of cooperation. There has been an unexpected change to the order of the competition, one that I¡¯m sure everyone in this arena, and steaming this broadcast, can look forward to.


    Many years ago, a heroic pilot inspired a generation of new pilots with her revolutionary method, and in this competition, we have seen it renewed; Sara Campbell, the pit method pilot, and her son, Satou Campbell, the second generation pit method pilot.¡±


    With the revelation of Satou¡¯s heritage, the crowd was shocked but let out a scream of excitement.


    ¡°The second round of this competition will now be suspended in order to make way for an exhibition match. The new and the old; the mother and the son; who will win in this once in a lifetime match up. I can even confirm that the original mystery mechanist will be working on this match. Will the dream team be able to maintain their historic pride, or has the times left them behind? In tomorrow¡¯s match, we get to find out. And to the competitors, whose matches are displaced by this event, know that if the legend wins, she will enter the competition in Satou¡¯s place, giving the pilots a chance to go up against the hero Sara Campbell.¡±


    With that announcement, a cold kind of anticipation filled Jeff. He had long thought that he was numb to Sara¡¯s fame, but having the opportunity to fight them brought back the bitterness of when he found out about her cheating. Being given a chance to crush both her and Alicia Kaya was the best way to work through those feelings.


    As he thought about that, a message came from Sam.


    ¡°Did you hear that? Can you believe that? How cool is that!? You¡¯ll get to work in a match against the legend herself!¡±

 Chapter 20 - The Mother Returns

    Chapter 20 - The Mother Returns


    ¡°Did you hear that? Can you believe that? How cool is that!? You¡¯ll get to work in a match against the legend herself!¡±


    Sam couldn¡¯t contain herself as she sent that message, as someone who had watched recordings of all of Sara Campbell¡¯s matches; she was almost shaking at the thought of watching that match in person. Sachiko also seemed to be as excited as she was, but for a different reason. Her mother had been in the crowd, and watched her win a match in a higher league. After the post-match checks were done, Sachiko immediately ran off to search for her.


    The exhibition also meant that they had extra time before then next match, so Sam had no problem with Sachiko taking a little time off to be with her family.


    As happy as she was for Jeff that he had that kind of opportunity, the chance to out mechanist the mystery mechanist, Sam was also very envious about it. But that envy only served to confuse her when she started talking to Jared about it.


    From what Jared said, it seemed that Jeff was a part of the faction of mechanists that disliked the Kaya family. Furthermore, when Jared asked him about why that was, Jeff avoided talking about it. Other people in the department had tried asking about it but he wouldn¡¯t give anyone a response. A few people there had decided that it was just envy at their success and wealth. Others made up some elaborate story where the Kaya¡¯s did some international crime that Jeff caught them out on and was sworn to secrecy. From Sam¡¯s perspective, Jeff did have a few instances of irrationality, so she was willing to believe that his hate was just that.


    On the other hand, she also knew that he planned things carefully, in particular when work or gambling was involved. As having a pointless grudge against an important figure in the industry would be detrimental to that work, something about that just didn''t seem likely. In the end she concluded that she really didn''t know, and also didn''t need to know. If the answer ever came out, her curiosity would be sated but not knowing wouldn''t impact her life in any way.


    That was unless he acted on the grudge. If he went out and harmed the person who made the cores that kept the country safe, then an investigation into his background could turn up at her door and start making problems for her.


    Putting issues of possible colleague insanity aside, Sam was more interested in seeing how Mia planned to handle the match, and if she still planned on using the pit method. If both sides entered with the intention of gathering data, then neither would gain anything from the first round. Instead it was far more likely that they would start the match with some parts already attached and would further customise as the rounds progressed.


    Since Sachiko had already left, Sam locked up the workspace and headed towards Satou''s. Although she might not be welcomed there, Sam still wanted to lend a hand, if they would accept it. It could very well be her only chance to help out in a fight against her hero, and that felt like the next best thing to working beside her hero.


    As she stood outside the workroom, Mia happened to be walking passed with a very casual expression. When Sam asked if she could help out with the preparations, Mia just shrugged and said ¡°Sure, but I don''t think there''s much to be done, right? I mean, it''s just a show, right? It''s not like Satou''s mother would actually fight him seriously. She wouldn''t want to accidentally hurt him.¡±


    Hearing that shocked Sam, she had assumed that most people her age knew all about Sara Campbell¡¯s reputation. She was notorious for never going easy on an opponent, even if it was just a friendly match or if there was another match on the following day. There was no doubt in Sam''s mind that Sara would go into the match with every intention of winning. It was extremely unlikely that she would hold back or pull punches.


    After explaining that to Mia, her expression seemed to stiffen.


    ¡°Then, if that''s the case, haven''t I been wasting time?¡±


    In a panic, she ran into the workshop and booted the computers. Satou''s rig was still in its black cube form and hadn''t had any adjustments made after the previous match. From what Sam could see of the booting data, it was still set up in its blank state, probably in anticipation of the match against Savannah.


    One thing that was immediately apparent was that Mia''s workshop was far better equipped than her own. The computer was evidently more powerful, as she could tell from how short the boot and synchronisation times were, and there were an array of expensive tools strewn throughout the room. Evidently that was how Mia managed to make changes quickly with the pit method. She had specialised tools that could add and remove parts almost twice as quickly as Sam could. From what Sam could gather, it seemed that the tools were made from formless particles and were designed to match Satou''s rig exactly. Sam could only imagine how much it would have cost to have those tools designed.


    Mia franticly opened up a design and management program and started to think about how to counter Sara.


    ¡°What if we equip the rig with as many weapons as we can and just crush her in the first round; that way she can¡¯t use the pit method to counter with what she''s still learnt?¡±


    That was Mia''s suggestion, or rather, that was Mia''s knee-jerk reaction. Without hesitating, Sam knocked that suggestion down.


    ¡°Sara knows far more about the pit method then we do, so there''s no way that she would start off in a blank form. It''s very likely that all three rounds will be a game of ¡®Scissors, Paper, Rock¡¯. If you deploy with attack and she deploys with speed, then the round is likely hers. A change in first round external parts form can be submitted as late as 10 minutes before the match. That''s when both sides will test our luck.¡±


    What Sam said was true; both sides would watch the forms carefully and any forms submitted before the last deadline couldn''t be trusted. It was a kind of psychological warfare that was waged by mechanists, and the administration workers were the collateral damage. Although the form process was almost entirely automated, some staff would be required to assess the forms to ensure no mistakes were missed by the system. Thankfully those checks were done after the match so they wouldn''t delay proceedings. Though it could take those workers days to catch up afterwards if decoy forms were repeatedly used. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    Thus, Mia and Sam spent the night preparing three sets of rig equipment, one for each speciality, and ensured that each set could be installed without worry and still had room for last minute customisation. Working throughout the night without sleep was no issue for Sam, but the fatigue was evident in Mia. Mia''s efficiency was clearly lowered and she needed to take several breaks just to keep focus. As a genius that had skipped several grades, she had never experienced having to work overnight, and her inexperience was evident in how she handled it.


    It wouldn''t be fair to say that the bulk of work was done by Sam, but it was certainly more than half of it. By the time the ten minute deadline arrived, Mia was truly grateful for Sam''s help.


    With the last possible minute''s arrival, the pair submitted their form, preying against system malfunction, on one computer, while refreshing their opponent''s page on another. Throughout the night, the mysterious mechanist had toyed with them. Each time they submitted a form, it was in the type that countered their previous one. It also had differences between the sets in the same type, making sure that they couldn''t just make plans against specific sets and they weren''t just using the same three setups on rotation. It was clear that their opponents were aware of them. It was also clear that their opponents knew just how the real fights take place.


    Ten more minutes passed and the two sides were facing each other in the arena. After a full night''s planning and preparations it came down to a gamble. As it was Satou that made the final selection, there wasn''t anything they could have done, but somehow the results were disappointing.


    Facing each other was a mother and son pair. One had a silver-white rig, shaped like a heroic knight and outfitted for defence with a large and heavy looking shield. The other rig was black with gold and purple trimmings, like a conquering emperor that ruled with strength of might. The thick layers of armour that coated its body gave it an unbreakable aura.


    That was it. They both chose defence.


    The anticipation that the crowd had built up over the unprecedented match had died down from the moment they saw that. Even the commentators were having a hard time maintaining their enthusiasm. Fights between two defence types were widely known as the most boring of all rig matches.


    They were slow and predictable, the winner was always the one who had the best power management, and it was inevitable that the decision would go down to points. There was no opportunity for pilots to show off their skills and they were often called fights between manufacturers. The only hope the crowd had would be if the efficiency of one of the rigs was low enough that they ran out of power mid match. But with the reputation of the mysterious mechanist, that outcome seemed unlikely. With the start of the first round, the sound of solid metal thudding against metal could be heard. Mixed amongst that was a crackle as energy fields repelled each other. As armour struck armour and no damage was dealt, the tone for the first round was set.


    With every movement, each side could clearly see it coming and make plans to safely negate the damage. With ever counter attack, the same. When the timer rang and the first round finished, it was almost relief for the audience.


    For the mechanists, however, it was a time of stress. Sam could only watch from the sidelines as Mia dashed about detaching parts and strapping new ones in place. The first round was ruled as a draw, with neither side showing a signs of damage, so the mode of the second round had to change. It was clear from her expression that Mia was completely aware of it.


    A second round of defence was absolutely not an option; the crowd was already restless and they would definitely turn against either side if they tried it. That just left speed and attack. Since speed trumped attack, it was the only real option for both sides. That outcome was locked in place from the moment they first chose parts.


    With the start of the second round, the black coloured emperor now looked more like a golden winged angel, with the parts sipped away to reveal Sara''s fastest armour. With wings made from thrusters, like tiny golden scales, and sharp bladed hands, ''The Harpy'' was one of Sara''s most iconic sets. The thousand small thrusters gave her a kind of speed and unpredictable movements that would likely kill an unprotected pilot. Systems to protect herself were the only energy drain other than speed the set allowed. Even the claws didn''t use power, but were instead solid parts. The damage they dealt was a result of her speed and their sharpness.


    Satou''s rig seemed to follow a similar design, though not as artistically designed. It was instead shaped like around a six winged backpack, which could move thrusters freely in any direction, with additional thrusters on hands and feet. While it was evident that he didn''t have anywhere near as many thrusters, each of his were more powerful by leagues. The thrusters on his hands seemed to be able to condense into a tight, welding torch like beam, which seemed to be his only available weapon.


    Both sides seemed to be equally matched, both in attack and speed, so the round was set to be a series of dogfights and hit and runs.


    Within moments of the fight starting, it seemed impossible to track the flight of the erratic rigs, though it seemed that the prediction of how they would fight was accurate. Flashes and sparks lit up the arena like fireworks as the pair made contact and broke away at a rate of at least once every two seconds.


    A minute into the round, it was hard to say who was winning; the field was dusted with burnt and severed thrusters from Sara''s wings and Satou''s wings had been halved.


    With each encounter, Satou''s thruster torches would cut away at Sara''s wings. While they were in contact, Sara''s claws didn''t have enough speed to deal any real damage, but as the pair pulled away, their combined speed was enough for Sara to cut through most things, Satou''s rig included.


    The fast paced violence and obvious destruction was in stark contrast to the previous round and the crowd was nearly frenzied, having a release from the boredom they had endured. It seemed that Sara had far more appeal to the crowd and sentiment was on her side throughout the round. When each of the wings were plucked from Satou''s back, they bellowed a deafening cheer.


    The advantage was Satou''s, in that he could inflict damage with contact, but Sara''s Claws meant that breaking off would harm him. Ideally, he would constantly attack, but Sara''s wing set up made it difficult to predict her movements and it was far more dangerous to let her control how the disengagement went. Satou chose to take smaller hits to avoid getting bigger ones. With the damage to both sides they had slowed down and it was possible to see their movements. With the speed reduced, the fight became about the skill and experience of the pilots more than the performance of the rigs.


    Unexpectedly, Sara''s rid suddenly lost power and started to fall. Satou didn''t know what was happening, but it looked like she was in danger. He flew in to catch her, using his rig to slow her fall and help her land safely.


    But it was a trap.


    The moment he caught her, a hidden thruster in the base of the claws ignited and drove the claws through Satou''s stomach. With her sneak attack successful, Sara''s rig sprang to life and she dumped Satou next to the medics while his rig deconstructed itself.


    Flying up to the centre of the ring, Sara turned on a microphone so that the whole building could hear.


    ¡°Naive! Don''t think you can inherit my technique with that kind of soft attitude.¡±


    The audience was shocked into silence.


    Sam was shocked into silence.


    Even Mia, whose own family wouldn''t have hesitated in saying the same thing, or worse, was shocked by that announcement.


    Sam could only silently text Jeff.


    ¡°Did you know she was like that?¡±

 Chapter 21 - The Mother Returns Part 2

    Chapter 21


    ¡°Did you know she was like that?¡±


    That was a difficult question. Anyone that watched Sara''s matches would know that she was relentless towards an opponent, but her post-match interviews painted her as a kind hearted athlete that regretted how aggressive she was while playing the game. Unfortunately, that image was one created by a PR company.


    After retirement, and not being in contact with her coaches and advisors for more than a decade, Sara had no script to follow and instead likely acted purely on her emotions. There was a saying that went, ''never meet your heroes lest you find out they are human'', a saying that became a reality for those that saw the real Sara Campbell.


    Had they thought about it for a few minutes, they might have realised a bit earlier that she wasn''t like her reputation. The biggest give away was probably Satou Campbell''s existence. Sara was only a couple years older than Jeff, she was still in her early to mid-thirties, yet she had a son that was nearly graduating high-school. Aside from cult-like religious folk, Jeff couldn''t think of anyone with a clean reputation that has a child that young. It was evident that the country''s plan to turn a blind eye on under-aged pilots getting knocked up was effective, since it led to Satou''s ridiculous DC.


    Even if it was tacitly condoned by the government, it didn''t change that she hid the whole thing with retirement, even going so far as making sure Satou didn''t reveal his surname. In that regard she was at least more careful than the Kaya family.


    But that was entirely beside the point for Jeff. Since he knew about the way she cheated her way to victory, he had no doubt that Sara was remorseless. While he had first been told that she had retired out of shame and to protect the legitimacy of the competition, when he thought about it later, there was no reason that that should be true. The country was already covering the whole thing up and it was nearly impossible for anyone to work out how she did it. At the time, DC was still a scarcely understood concept, so rigs seemed far more mystic and unknowable.


    Considering that, there was no reason for the country to make her stop.


    If she had continued, it was unlikely Sara would have been caught. Furthermore, the country could have made massive gains with very little risk. When Jeff later discovered Satou, the pieces fell in place. It wasn''t cheating that forced her to retire, it was pregnancy. The Kayas'' never revealed why, but they had explicitly said that pregnant women shouldn''t use a rig with a core.


    For most of the public, retirement because of her mechanist retiring would do for an excuse and for those that dug deeper; Satou could be used to hide the cheating. It was an elegant solution; one that just proved that Sara didn''t regret what she did in the slightest.


    His reasoning was long, but Jeff''s answer to Sam was short; yes, he knew she was like that.


    Some part of him did feel sorry for Satou, who was taken to hospital to have his stomach sown back together. Jeff couldn''t imagine what he would be feeling. How could it have felt? He was just moments away from victory, his mother was in danger, and his mother tricked and stabbed him. He went from competing in a higher division to lying on a doctor¡¯s table all at the hands of someone he implicitly trusted.


    On the other hand, it really worked out well for Jeff. Alicia Kaya was always kept informed about those that knew her identity, and she knew that if she cheated in a match against Jeff, his confidentiality agreement would be invalidated. As such, Jeff was able to ensure that Sav could completely crush Sara, and more importantly Alicia. While Jeff wasn''t usually one to harbour a grudge, in particular one based on an emotional wrong, he made an exception for Alicia Kaya.


    Jeff knew that when Sav beat Sara, he would feel like he had beaten Alicia after driving her into a corner. It was almost a kind of predatory satisfaction, a primal need to toy with the weak and assert dominance. He almost never felt the need to feel like that, and it was even rarer that he had an opportunity to act on it. But since he had the chance, he was going to take it.


    Although Alicia would have a file on him, detailing his history and tenancies, it was unlikely that she could know how much he wanted to crush her; that was an advantage he had. Most mechanists would focus on the tendencies of the pilot and rig, but the best would also think about the opposing mechanist. With Alicia''s experience, there was no way that she wouldn''t read the parts list and make plans in advance, so submitting early would be handing her an advantage. On the other hand, the preparation and planning in the previous matches was evident from the way the rounds progressed, so there was no way that she would believe any rig designs that were submitted early were legitimate.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    That was exactly what he would do. He submitted the design from the previous match; the military armoured angel with a bayoneted assault rifle, from the match with the Black Spider. Jeff even went so far as to reuse the same part submissions, just with dates changed. There was so little work involved in doing that, that there was no mechanist alive that would actually believe it was the rig that would be used. It might have well been a blank document labelled ''Place-holder''.


    Only with the closest attention to detail would anyone notice that the composition of the armour had been slightly changed in several places. With the amount of bloated entries in that file and with the differences being so few, it was essentially impossible to notice. Analytical software could have pointed out the differences, but since the overview looked the same, it seemed like a waste of valuable processing power and time to bother.


    But those changes, despite being so small, actually had a large impact on the overall performance of the armour, shifting the vulnerabilities and hardening the defences. At the ten minute mark, when Alicia realised that Sav was actually using the submitted rig, there wouldn''t be enough time to run a theoretical analysis on the design, and would only have enough to run on the performance data from the previous match. In short, they would be aiming at vulnerabilities that didn''t exist and would have almost no time to design a counter for their rig.


    At the submission deadline, Alicia was forced to submit the blank pit method rig. It had no surprises and showed that she also didn''t know what Jeff had planned. She apparently wasn''t willing to underestimate her opponent, as the connection holes on the metallic silver frame were covered with heavy metal lids. They weren''t just in place to stop dust and debris; they seemed to be able to take at least one hit. Otherwise it was a very standard pit method rid, complete with a metal shield and knife equipped.


    What surprised Jeff was that it seemed that they were following their rig method completely, not making any changes, despite not having access to the extra power they normally relied on. He couldn''t be sure if it was pride, confidence, or the intention to lose, but it honestly didn''t seem like they knew what they were doing. While he was thinking about that, a cold chill ran down his back.


    ¡°If Sara hasn''t been in contact with her old staff, who''s to say Alicia has.¡±


    While mumbling that aloud, Jeff set the last minute preparations to automated and dashed to set up monitoring software. Since he was just adjusting the settings of an existing program, he managed to get it done in time for the start of the match. Without a direct connection to their opponent, it would only be estimated, but if it was clear that their energy use was well outside expectations, the contract he signed would be violated. It didn''t matter if she realised he knew or not, the mere fact that she cheated in a match against him would be enough to let him go public.


    Not that he really would go public, that kind of publicity was bad for both his life and livelihood. But since Alicia couldn''t even remember him, she wouldn''t know if he would on not. That meant he had a golden opportunity to extort Alicia Kaya. While money would obviously be a good option, there was also the possibility of gaining an extra core. Even just holding it over her head and using her influence whenever he needed it would be good. He didn''t even need to risk blackmailing her directly; the officials he signed the confidentiality agreement with would definitely try to buy his silence if he showed them the agreement had been made null.


    A sinister smile filled his face as he thought about how irritated Alicia would be. If he was lucky, Erin Kaya would hear about it and Alicia would get pulled back into manufacturing for another few years; a grown woman in her late thirties getting grounded.


    With the strange smile, combined with his unhealthy appearance, when Savannah deployed out to the arena, she did so while looking slightly worried.


    With the starting signal, it was clear that the fight was set to be a close one. Savannah¡¯s rifle slashed forward and narrowly missed; the bayonet acting like a spear-tip. As the blade turned in an instant and darted towards Sara once again the metal shield deflected the blow. But while the shield moved the blade out of the way, it lined the barrel cleanly with a wing, a shot that Sav didn''t hesitate to take.


    While Sara''s flight was momentarily disrupted, Sav pivoted her weapon along the shield to slam the shoulder rest against Sara''s chest. While it caused very little damage to the rig, it definitely hurt the pilot. After that, something seemed to click in Sara''s mind, and the rest of the first round was spent avoiding making close contact with Sav. It was clear that Sara had the disadvantage in a melee, so she avoided it. But without a ranged weapon, that meant defence was the sole option available. With her opponent only defending, it became far harder for Savannah¡¯s attacks to land with any impact. A few bullets hit hard, but not in any place that would impact the later rounds.


    The first round ended with a victory based on points. No surprises, it went to Sav. The real test would start in five minutes, when parts were switched out and plans were made. It was in the moments of preparation that Jeff thought of a devious and completely unethical way to gain an advantage.


    ¡°Hay Sam,¡± the message read, ¡°can you get your pilot to look for her mother.¡±

 Chapter 22 - The Mother Returns Part 3

    Chapter 22


    ¡°Hay Sam,¡± the message read, ¡°can you get your pilot to look for her mother.¡±


    When Sam received that text, she was watching the match while sitting beside Sachiko. Sachiko was a little disappointed since she wanted to watch with her mother, but her mother had to attend to the business that she had come to town to do. It was at least a slight consolation that they could watch Sara''s match. Sachiko had also been brought up watching recordings of Sara''s matches so she was excited to see her in person. That was something she and Sam had in common, though Sam was admittedly more fanatic in her devotion.


    Sachiko certainly admired Sara, but that was mostly her mother''s influence. She described her mother as completely devoted, and her mother said that she had been at every one of Sara''s games. They supposedly went to school together, a revelation that shocked Sam as she somehow had never thought about her idol ever being a student, and were apparently close. Nearly twenty years later and Sachiko''s mother said they were still close, though she admitted that she had never seen the two together.


    Knowing that, Sachiko was surprised when her mother said she was too busy to watch the match together. She had assumed that any work her mother had would have been pushed aside in order to play. It was definitely rude to say, but Sachiko insisted that it was a sign that her mother was growing up, either that or it was an order from Sachiko''s grandmother, who was apparently a woman that always found a way to get her way. Hearing the Kaya family described that way was certainly disappointing to Sam, but it also helped to humanise them in her mind. They weren''t ''the family that creates and controls the supply of cores,'' but were instead ''her friend¡¯s family.''


    Sam had no reason to think that Jeff''s request had anything to do with the match. In fact, she knew Jeff was a reliable teacher, albeit with a gambling problem, who had ensured several years of students had succeeded enough to graduate. Considering how carefully he tended to plan things, it was likely that he was aware of what Sachiko''s mother was working on, and was just helping Sachiko out. With that in mind, she relayed the message and they left the arena just after the second round started. As they walked out, they could see that Sara, equipped in her golden harpy armour, had taken the field and was keeping her distance from Savannah¡¯s rig. From their distant exit, it appeared that her rig hadn''t been changed at all.


    They started their search by calling around, asking the hotel she was staying with if anyone had seen her. They were lucky, when Sachiko''s mother left, well an early in the morning, the breakfast shift chef happened to notice her. Since the area around where she was headed had been cleared, for both safety and parking, she had to have been going to the arena. Since Sachiko''s mother was there for work, there was a limited number of places she could be; an executive or administrative office, a corporate box or one of the workshops.


    A corporate box could almost immediately be crossed out. If that was the case, she would have brought Sachiko with her. A company would be crazy to have a problem with Sachiko being there, she was a future head of the Kaya family after all and offending her could have long term issues for that company. An administrative office was also unlikely. Most things involving them could be covered over the phone or through emails, the only reason Sachiko could think of for her mother to go there would be if her grandmother ordered her mother to do it in person as a form of punishment. While her grandmother would do something like that, Sachiko couldn''t think of anything her mother had done recently to warrant it.


    That just left an executive office or a workshop.


    Asking at the reception desk, after confirming Sachiko''s identity, it was clear that she hadn''t been to see any of the executives. That just left the workshops. Luckily, Sam had a clearance pass to her team''s workshops and, since Jeff was still on paper as one of her teaching mechanists, Jeff had given her a guest pass to get into his team''s room. That meant that Sam had access to every workshop, although courtesy said not to just visit. They started with their team''s workshops, since abusing Jeff''s pass could get Sam in trouble, and visited each room by first knocking on the door, then asking if Sachiko''s mother was inside through the door.


    Having no luck, they paused in front of Mia''s door. It felt a bit awkward. Partially it was because Mia was still visiting Satou in the hospital, and partially because it was currently being used by Sara''s mysterious mechanist.


    Somehow that just felt wrong. Sam''s friend''s partner was hurt and their room was taken away as well. Sara''s team already had a workshop of their own, so taking over Mia''s felt like they were just trying to hurt them. It was a weird week for Sam; she was learning a lot about her hero''s and not a lot of it was good.


    Since Mia had the room fitted with extra sound proofing, apparently something that her family had insisted on her doing, knocking on the door would be pointless. Since the mysterious mechanist was probably going to be wearing a mask, they were confident that they wouldn''t find out their identity just by opening the door. It would also be bad if they distracted them while the match was on, but they rationalised it as they were only going to ask a single question. It wasn''t a good rationalisation, but Sam had always wanted to meet the mysterious mechanist.


    As the door slid open, they immediately regretted what they saw and heard.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    ¡°..Kaya Family Anti-Tampering override, code zero two.¡± said Sachiko''s mother, dressed only in her underwear and sitting hunched over in front of a monitor. Her neck-length black hair was tied loosely back without any care to appearance, and her clothes, a formal business suit, was thrown on the floor and crinkled. With a green message on the screen saying that the voice recognition was successful, Sachiko''s mother continued to speak over a headset microphone, unaware of their presence.


    ¡°It''s all good Sara, the extra power''s yours; don''t say I never get you anything. Now hurry up and smack that brat so I can cash the cheque. I need to get paid before mum finds out that we''re back at it.¡±


    Neither Sam nor Sachiko could move, let alone speak. Too many thoughts and feelings were crashing through their heads and they needed time to work through it.


    ¡°Oh yeah, I forgot to mention. After the break, that brat changed some parts so look out for... breeze?¡±


    Noticing the breeze that the open door had caused, Sachiko''s mother turned around to see the two of them standing there. A faint sound from the headset could be heard but the three of them were too stunned to notice. More than a minute passed as they stood there in silence before their stupor was broken by the roaring of the crowd.


    The three of them rushed over to the monitor to see Sara''s rig cut into two pieces, with one of the wings hitting the ground together with one of Sara''s arms and feet. Despite it being a friendly match with almost nothing at stake, an unprecedented amount of limb loss had occurred. For the crowd that was a good thing, but it was somehow unsettling for the pilots.


    While looking at the replay, Sachiko''s mother looked pale. The troubles began after Sara began her offensive and started flying at her full speed. She landed some deep blows against some sensitive looking areas, though they didn''t seem to slow Savannah¡¯s rig in the slightest, and had her opponent on the defensive. That changed abruptly after a minute or so, when the bayonet shot out, propelled by the rifles magnetic field, and narrowly missed Sara.


    But the blade had a razor sharp wire cord attached.


    With Sara''s unmatchable speed, the wire, which had secured itself into the arena floor, sliced through repulsion field, metal and flesh. If Sara had been travelling even the slightest bit slower, she might have been able to use her rigs incredible manoeuvring to avoid it, but instead had her rig cut through like warm butter.


    ¡°I... I was... I was just about to warn her.¡± Sachiko''s mother stammered as she spoke in a nearly inaudible voice. She clearly felt that that was her fault; she hadn''t warned her pilot about something that important. Sam could sympathise with her, though she could also understand that the illicit extra speed was the cause.


    Unfortunately, the match wasn''t over.


    Sara was still flying, hovering with one wing while blood gushed from her missing wrist and shin. Other rigs would have returned to their cube form after taking that kind of punishment, but the monitoring system had been disabled when the anti-tampering was. From what Sam could see, the rig was also helping Sara live, by applying pressure to severed parts and restricting blood-loss. That didn''t seem to be a feature of rig so much as a result of the damage forming a pinch.


    It was obvious that Sachiko''s mother wanted to turn that system back on, but if she did so without taking any further damage, it would look too unnatural. Thankfully, Savannah was there to lend a hand, and put a bullet into the chest of the defenceless Sara. Having taken that extra damage, the rig dissolved and Sachiko''s mother didn''t miss her cue.


    With Savannah winning two rounds, there wasn''t a need for a third. The match was hers and she returned to Jeff''s workshop to celebrate. It was clear that the crowd was elated, Savannah had established herself as a contender, not just beating her own generation¡¯s threat but also the old generation''s hero. Many would see the match as a passing of the torch. If Sara was the progenitor of the pit method, then Savannah was the progenitor of the full body method.


    Savannah¡¯s style was clearly a reflection of her own body''s ability being improved by the rig rather than just replaced. It was something that experienced pilots would develop to some extent, but Savannah took that to an extreme. It was a sure thing that younger pilots would, at least for a while, place more importance on their own bodies. Though that trend would lead to the top pilots being better on average, less skilled pilots would likely get worse with less time and focus on actual piloting.


    With Sara taken away by the medical staff, the attention of those in that workshop returned to what they heard and saw. It was clear that Sachiko was taking the news far worse than Sam, so when Sam was asked to give them some time alone to talk she accepted it without complaint. While it was obvious that Sachiko''s actions were far too practised and relaxed to have been the first time they were done, somehow it just felt wrong that the athletes she had looked up to were built on such a lie.


    She also knew that her friend was having it worse, having just found out that her mother was the mysterious mechanist, and her mother was involved in repeated crimes. She was even brought up to admire Sara''s team. It was like her mother was shamelessly boasting about her actions; that Sachiko and the other fans were all fools. If time and conversation would make that somehow right, then Sam would give her all the time she needed.


    Not that she really thought there were any words that would make it better.


    Not knowing what to do while she waited, Sam went over to Jeff''s workshop. He and Savannah had already left to celebrate their win and the room was vacant. It was by no means a neat room, but the way that the parts and tools were strewn about was clear and somehow organised. There were even unobstructed paths to the exits that just barely ensured that no workplace health and safety codes were broken.


    Sam had wanted to tell him something, but seeing that he had already left she felt that saying it in person could wait for another day. Even under the effect of Sleepless, she still felt tired. Although that mental fatigue didn''t actually make her drowsy, sleep would have gone a long way to calming her down and working through what she was feeling. But she couldn''t sleep even though she wanted to. Her last dose was only a few hours ago and if that weren''t the case it would still be dangerous for her to skip a day. It had been a long time since she had genuinely felt like she missed sleeping.


    As she left there to go and find something to pass time with, she left a note for Jeff on top of a pile of reports that looked like he would see.


    ¡°Thanks for letting us find that out, I really mean that. I can''t believe we were lied to like that.¡±

 Chapter 23 - The Mother Returns, End Part

    Chapter 23


    ¡°Thanks for letting us find that out, I really mean that. I can''t believe we were lied to like that.¡±


    It was actually several days before Jeff found Sam''s message, which was placed on top of some reports he had no intention of reading. They were filled with performance data on the unique rig configuration and were generally considered too vital for inexperienced mechanist to review. Since Jeff used an old design and could generally appraise performance based on what he saw compared with his experience, he was only going to file them away without looking at them.


    The unexpected location of the note only compiled his confusion that came from the content of the note. He had spent the previous few days dreading contact from Sam, expecting her to lash out at him for using her as a tool to win the match. That she hadn''t realised it was completely unexpected. Having her thank him for doing something he knew was wrong just made his stomach churn.


    That said it was only for a moment. Mostly he was just glad to have gotten away with it. While actual assassinations were regrettably fairly commonplace in the sport, character assassinations were handled unofficially by the community. If Alicia was willing to reveal her identity and call him out, it would be very hard for him to find work or buy parts. Thankfully the one person who didn''t stand to lose anything by reporting on it believed that he did it for her sake.


    On top of that, things were going fairly well in the completion. Since Sam and Sachiko''s previous match, against some member of her own country''s junior league team, they had had plenty of spare time, due to the exhibition causing delays. While Sam somehow seemed tired as she went into the workshop, it was clear that she was recovering quickly.


    Sachiko''s victory meant that the next round, the junior league semi-finals, would be against Sav. It was something that both Jeff and Sam had been looking forward to and had been preparing for. Even when Jeff was short on time and preparing for his matches, he would still consider plans in his head, if not on computer or paper.


    Thinking back to his own apprenticeship period, when he was still in the final year of his degree, Jeff and his mentor in the maintenance staff at that school had a similar competition just prior to Jeff''s graduation. At the time, a new piloting teacher was being interviewed so they used that as an opportunity to have a match. Even if it was just a school match using rigs without cores, it none the less felt important to compete against his teacher like that. In the end Jeff had lost and the new teacher was hired, but it let him know just how much further he needed to go. More than the outcome of the match, that was the kind of experience he wanted Sam to have.


    As a side note, when he met that mentor, Jeff punched him. They had hidden just how horrible working at that school was and openly laughed at him after the contract was signed. In that regard, Jeff considered himself to be a far better mentor for letting Sam experience just how bad the school could be. It was just another reminder that his co-worker at the time, another student in her apprenticeship, was lucky to have signed on at a different school, even if her conditions were only slightly better.


    Savannah, dressed in her almost characteristic fatigues, also seemed excited for the upcoming match as she hovered about the workshop. From what Jeff had gathered, it seemed that she had watched Sachiko''s matches and liked how straightforward her rig was. While Sav knew that she wasn''t suited to that kind of fighting, she admired pilots that were willing to directly face opponents with direct and simple methods. Even the highly visible orange colour of her rig was worthy of respect. If Sav was a disciplined soldier, then Sachiko was a wild berserker, though if Sam heard that she would protest.


    When Jeff heard Sav''s opinion on Sachiko''s rig, he couldn''t help but laugh. Rare was the subtle attack type rig. More rare still was the actually effective one. Trying to be clever when it was entirely unneeded could actually be hindering, so it was safer to focus in one area. Though from what he had seen, Sam had yet to notice just how basic her designs were.


    That was a sign of Sam''s lack of experience, and also the starting point for Jeff''s plan to beat her.


    Since Sachiko had focused her training solely on attack type rigs, and Sam didn''t have the necessary experience to make other types feel and handle like an attack type, it was very unlikely that they would radically change their rig. That meant any plans Sam made would be about how they used the existing rig. That was far from uncommon, especially for pilots without a permanent mechanist, and worked best with versatile rigs. It also meant that a speed type rig would be the best counter.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    While the orange rig was far from versatile, Jeff was very aware that it did have potential. A particular problem would be in the missile launcher. That was literally inside it. Since Sam knew that Jeff knew that the launcher had a variety of ammunition types they would likely make no attempts at hiding it and would instead use it to maximum effect from the beginning. That was problematic since the missiles were classified as ammunition rather than parts. While the parts that were being used had to be locked in before a match started, amounts and types of ammunition only had to be shown after the first round began. No one had time to sift through files looking for that while the match was on.


    Worse still, if Sam dropped a packet of spares at the start of the first round, he would have no way of knowing what would be used in any other rounds, even if he counted the ones used. That seemed unlikely when he considered the price of each missile. Even if it was a good strategy, he couldn''t see Sam being so wasteful with money.


    While planning, he opened up a major weapon distributor¡¯s catalogue and looked through the type of missiles they could sell to school and junior pilots, hoping to get a general idea of the types of things he could expect. There were more than twenty options, just for the one launcher that Sachiko used. The most versatile launcher had more than fifty. The thought of planning a counter for each of them seemed entirely impossible. He could rule out the most expensive ones, and ones that required specialised protections or complicated controls, but that still left a lot of options. That meant they could only plan a general solution to protect against anything that they had.


    The most obvious answer was the best one and you take no damage from a missed shot. With that in mind, they planned their match.


    While they could easily leave it to the last minute to submit their plans and fill the documents with fake parts, for that one match, Jeff didn''t want to do that. He wanted to win while being above board, with no gimmicks or tricks. Sav was surprisingly up for that also, as she wanted to fight Sachiko with the same thoughts in mind. As such, with more than twelve hours before the submission was due, Jeff uploaded the documents.


    The designs couldn''t be more straightforward, yet he knew the crowds would love them. The most important benefit of giving so much notice was it gave Sav plenty of time to get used to using the radically different rig.


    While the previous rig¡¯s design had been very balanced and adaptable, the new design was certainly not. With sleek and sharp parts, tight geometric wings and an absorbingly black paint, the design was entirely like a human shaped stealth bomber. Its hyper-modern design seemed incredibly simple at first glance, but with careful analysis, it revealed many secrets.


    The first was the paint, which was made of a strange alloy that had a negative reflection value, effectively absorbing light. While that in no way made the rig invisible, it was incredibly uncomfortable to look at. It also absorbed other parts of the electromagnetic spectrum, including both infrared and radio waves. That meant both radar and heat seeking guidance wouldn''t work. That effect was only amplified by the shape of the armour. There were downsides to the paint; the absorbed heat went directly into the armour and slowly cook the components and the formless particles couldn''t make the paint so it had to be purchased and applied manually.


    That, in turn led, to another problem; both the paint and the stealth shape were out-dated technologies. They were remnants of war methods before rigs were created. As such, Jeff had to have the paint recreated by an acquaintance from his university days. Not everyone that studied Rig Sciences became mechanists. That was actually the minority. While a career in development was less lucrative, the difference in average life expectancy more than made up for it. The time Jeff spent not studying in his early years, the reason he ended up in that school, wasn''t wasted time. The people he met and stayed in contact with turned into valuable friends at times like that.


    While the darker than black rig would be almost painful to look at, Jeff made sure to give the crowd a reason to want to. With the focus on speed, and their previous victory, he knew that the look he had chosen would be popular. While the shape was flat and modern, anyone could tell with a single glance what the image they were going for was. It was Sara''s Golden Harpy. It was flattened, angled and blackened. The feathery wings were replaced with flexible and segmented, jet-like wings. Despite all that, one look at the silhouette revealed the design.


    It definitely helped that the claw like weapon in one of its hands was golden-looking; like it was forged from the broken parts of Sara''s rig. Its off-hand was filled with a simple pistol shaped hybrid rail-gun. Overall, its performance was actually slightly higher than the Golden Harpy, even with the harpy having extra power. That was thanks to the difference in efficiency between fixed and demountable parts. Jeff couldn¡¯t imagine what Sam would think when seeing his plans, but he knew that both he and Sav would enjoy the game.


    Just as the deadline for submitting passed, Jeff sent Sam a message.


    ¡°Good luck. My Black Harpy will be hard to hit.¡±

 Chapter 24 - The Hero Revives, Part 1

    Chapter 24


    ¡°Good luck. My Black Harpy will be hard to hit.¡±


    Sam barely even noticed that message when it arrived as she was still in shock over the schematics she was reading. When she saw Jeff submitted a document 12 hours early, one that was neatly written and concise, she barely even looked at it. With the documents she had seen Jeff use in the past, something like that could only be considered a ruse.


    As the ten minute deadline passed and it dawned on her that it was actually the design being use, she kicked herself over it. To make it somehow worse, the tone of the message made her realise that Jeff hadn''t intended to trick her, and wanted her to have time to plan. With no time to make changes or correct their plans, Sam could only trust Sachiko''s instincts.


    Since they didn''t believe the designs, and Sam didn''t have a clue about the ''real'' one, they had prepared their usual model with a variety of missiles. Sam had prepared one extra surprise though; a durable back unit filled with extra missiles.


    The idea was a variation on the classic extra ammo drop plan. The unit was something Sam found while looking through the parts available at a used parts dealer. During the first time when attack type units were the meta, missiles were just as popular as high powered energy weapons, or so she read, and it seemed that some pilots felt that the more shots you had the better the odds of winning were. That was why they would forgo wings and instead bring back units that could reload a launcher as it fired. While they were unpopular for many reasons, including the way that shooting that rapidly damaged the launcher, they were designed to be able to take some damage during that overt era.


    With a few adjustments, Sam got the back unit to function with a battery. That was her plan, the unit would be carried into the fight and dropped, giving them extra options in other rounds and allowing Sachiko to reload during the fight. Since that Black Harpy didn''t seem to have anything that could break the unit''s armour, Sam was confident that the extra missiles wouldn''t be wasted. It seemed unlikely that either Jeff or Savannah would recognise that discontinued part, so she hoped that they would just think she was being money conscious, rather than realising her plan.


    The nine shot missile launcher that was strapped to that thinly armoured orange rig was what Sam considered their best chance of winning. That wasn''t to say she expected any of the missiles to make contact with such a fast moving opponent, but they would definitely be the best tool for directing their opponent''s movements towards the heavy Gatling¡¯s bullets. While the Black Harpy had much better armour when compared to the Golden Harpy, it was impossible that it could withstand a barrage from such a high powered weapon. Thankfully, the earnings in the junior league were far better than those in the school league, so they could use more expendable items while still making a profit.


    When Sachiko flew out to the arena, Sam realised that there was something wrong. Just looking at their opponent caused a headache to start. Not in a metaphoric sense but a literal pain in her head. Looking around, it seemed that the crowd wasn''t feeling it, though they might not have noticed through their own excited roars. Jeff''s design seemed to have worked them up. The overwhelming support for her opponent seemed to be affecting Sachiko; Sam could see it on her face.


    Trying to retake momentum, Sachiko started the match from the very first moment with a barrage of tracking missiles. While they wouldn''t be able to keep up with the speed of a rig, they would continue to trail after their target. They were really more of a distraction than a real threat, but they worked really well when the opponent is taken by surprise.


    And she really was surprised; Sachiko that is. The missiles flew straight past Savannah¡¯s rig, making no motions or corrections, as if they didn''t see the rig there at all. Sam rushed to run a diagnostic program, but the results showed no problems with the missiles or the launcher. As that program ran, the harpy had time to escape and reach its full speed while staying at least half an arena away. Bursts of Gatling fire tracked after it, but the harpy was faster than Sachiko''s arms and flexible enough to avoid any rounds that got anywhere near close to hitting.


    While keeping distance, Savannah would fire off the occasional pistol shot, hitting Sachiko centre of mass. To have any kind of accuracy while moving at that kind of speed showed just how different the skill levels of the pilots were. Luckily, the pistol bullets have very little mass and only barely made it through the thin armour of the orange rig, once slowed by the defensive energy field. Since the armour was thickest around the chest, those shots would have been dangerous if they hit the less protected arms or legs though.


    Seeing that the movements were too fast for her to track, Sam tried to track the black rig using the stadium''s sensors. That was when she realised that the malfunction was due to some blocking or dampening. If Sam wasn''t still shaken up by her earlier mistake, that would have been obvious. Thankfully Sachiko seemed to have noticed it also and was manually aiming. Since the analytical program hadn''t found any active jammers in Jeff''s designs, Sam only installed a default set of sensors in her rig, not wanting to limit Sachiko''s vision with a cluttered HUD or slow down her thoughts with too much sensory data.


    Standard sensors included heat, radar, magnetic and enhanced dynamics. Since heat and radar didn''t seem to be working, that just left the last two if a reliable lock-on was needed. That was problematic since magnetic was only useful at close range, something that the black harpy showed no interest in, and enhanced dynamics was essentially a kind of normal sight but faster and more detailed since the rig handled some of the data before transferring it to the pilots mind. While that was definitely the kind of thing they needed, just looking at the blackness hurt with normal eyes; Sam couldn''t imagine how painful it would get to look through those sensors.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    While Sachiko could be stuffed full of painkillers during the break between rounds, Sam could only prey that the damage from the first round wouldn''t be bad enough to lock them out.


    Sachiko however wasn''t willing to rule out a first round victory. Her opponent''s advantages were speed and manoeuvring, both of which required distance. In that large arena with three dimensional movements, something like that wasn''t a problem. While the trick Sam had planned to counter that advantage was supposed to be saved, Sachiko impatiently used it to rush for a quick victory.


    Two pairs of missiles left the launcher. Two collided with the outer force fields and quickly filled that space with a vaporous gas, the other two froze it. The crystal like ice structures formed two canyon walls, funnels that would drive that harpy towards Sachiko. The ice wasn''t durable in the slightest, any kind of energy weapon would collapse them in moments, but they handled ballistic forces very well because of their fragility. Any solid impacts would cause a dramatic explosion of icy dust as the exposed layers broke down into a gas that pushed projectiles away. Heat or slow objects could beat it easily but guns would do nothing.


    Since Savannah was trapped in a space that was less than one third of the arena¡¯s size, she would naturally need to move into the remaining two third sized space to regain her advantage. To do that meant going through the passage between the ice walls; where Sachiko lay in wait. If she made it through, Savannah could continue to win just by taking shots on the run, but the vertical gap was the ideal environment for attack type rigs, it would be almost impossible to avoid attacks.


    Sachiko flew to the direct middle of the gap, just as Savannah made her approach. As the Gatling began to spin, the game of luck began. If Sachiko moved her gun down and Savannah flew up, then the round would be lost. Even though the moment lasted less than half a second, it was tense enough to fill an hour.


    Sachiko''s weapon fired. Bullets flew upwards. Savannah flew downwards.


    Sam''s chest grew tight as she knew the gamble failed.


    But Sachiko still hadn''t given up. The bullets were just a trick; the real attack came out of her launcher. No matter which way Savannah moved, an attack had been waiting for her. As the missile was pointed towards the ground, gravity aided its acceleration and it headed directly towards the black harpy rig.


    One surprise lead directly to another, as the missile flew through empty space and in a blink of an eye, Savannah''s golden blade was moments away from contact with the orange rig. Somewhere in the back of Sam''s mind, an explanation for what happened played on repeat. In essence, it was the most basic of aeroplane techniques; flying downwards to gain speed before an ascent. Since rigs were able to move in far steeper arcs and directions to what a plane could, basic movements like that were only covered briefly to first year pilots.


    Unknown to Sam and Sachiko, Savannah''s military base childhood had included trips along with jet pilots, who would show off to the young child with those types of manoeuvres. They were a kind of foundation to her, something she did to relax. They were so well practised that when she avoided that missile, it was done entirely on reflex.


    Conscious or not, the blades tore through Sachiko''s light armour and made long scratches against her body. Luckily, Sachiko managed to twist her body to that the injuries were shallow. The damage to the rig, however, wasn''t so light. Sam could only watch in despair as her partner''s rig turned back to a black cube and rolled down the icy jagged walls. Thankfully, Savannah displayed good sportsmanship and caught Sachiko before she hit the ice.


    As Sam set about patching the rig back together, Sachiko was treated by the medical team. The cuts were filled with a jelly that stuck to the wound and prevented blood from flowing out. The high levels of silver in it also killed off any risk of infection, but the resulting pain meant using it without an anaesthetic was bordering on madness. Thankfully, drugging her pilot was already part of Sam''s plan. Only, she worried that it might impair Sachiko''s judgement and control; it was no use being able to see an opponent if you aren''t able to pull a trigger fast enough.


    When Sachiko rushed into the room and booted the rig back up, with a little over a minute left before the next round, Sam had metallic jell ready to fill in any gaps in the armour that hadn''t recovered. It was far from an ideal solution, but it would set in a minute. After the match, Sam would have to spend a full hour separating any formless particles that came in contact with the stuff, but it would at least provide some protection and hide the damage.


    During the break, Savannah had swapped her pistol out for an energy weapon equivalent, and within moments of the round commencing, the ice had been cleared away. All but three of Sachiko''s missiles had been used and identified in the previous round, and the ice gas wouldn''t work a second time. That limited their options, but at least their opponent didn''t know what the final three were, let alone what was in the reloading unit.


    After a few minutes of dodging and trading shots, Sam sent Sachiko the signal and they began their comeback.


    It started with shooting of the last three unknown rockets. They exploded in different locations and filled the arena with a thick black smoke. With the speeds that Savannah was travelling at, to have any kind of control meant she had to be using an advanced version of the enhanced dynamic sensors. The smoke blocked any kind of light or motion, meaning neither pilot would be able to see a thing. While that was worse for Sachiko, since her opponent wasn''t visible to her other types of sensors, they had planned in advance for that situation.


    The orange rig moved to an exact position, calculated before the match had even started, and sent a signal to the waiting loader. The missiles inside all launched out and scattered fire across the whole arena; all except for the space where Sachiko waited. Without being able to see the moving rockets, Savannah had no way to plan a safe place.


    When the fire burnt away the smoke, they found that Savannah was one the ground with burning wings. It seemed that when she lost sight, she landed on the ground as a way of protecting herself. Then, when the fire came, she hugged the ground to avoid damage.


    To some extent it worked, since her body was unharmed, but her wings were melted melted in several places and unable to be used. Seeing that Savannah''s rig was about to retract, Jeff forfeited the round and had her run in for repairs. Generally, forfeiting a round wasn''t considered good sportsmanship unless it was clear to both sides that the rig was about to give in. In regards to their match, there wasn''t a problem, but making that judgement was a serious issue when it came to professional matches.


    Feeling the need to gloat, Sam sent a message to Jeff.


    ¡°Forget just hitting your bird, I clipped its wings!¡±

 Chapter 25 - The Hero Revives, Part 2

    Chapter 25


    ¡°Forget just hitting your bird, I clipped its wings!¡±


    Jeff was far too busy to care about that jab, let alone respond to it. It was purely by Sav''s instincts and training that they survived that fire trap so it was now Jeff''s turn to show off.


    From the moment he saw that the wings were inoperable, he knew that a drastically different plan was needed. Since entire sets of wings weren''t something they had lying around, common sense said that they would have to make do with any spare thrusters they had. But that''s not what Jeff had in mind.


    When Sav arrived in the workshop, Jeff stripped the casing off of the remains of the wings and connected the power cords directly into a part he had prepared for another fight but didn''t get to use. It was the power pack for the old style cannon that he looked into as a means of fighting Satou. He had made it mostly out of curiosity, looking at new ways to apply old technology and ideas was one of the basic thought exercises that mechanists were encouraged to practise, but it was now their main weapon. Since it was a curiosity, he had assembled it from existing parts, and only had to strip a handful of components to make it match his submitted schematics. The several meters long, spear-like energy cannon was mismatched with the jet like rig, but Jeff barely had enough time to get it functioning, let alone thematically appropriate. Which wasn''t to say that he didn''t have idea''s that that regard.


    To prevent any time being wasted, he hadn''t changed any of the programming. As far as the rig was concerned, the towering cannon was a pistol and the power pack was a set of wings. To get the rig to charge it, Sav would have to tell that complicated machine to fire the thrusters. That kind of double think would surely slow down her actions, an effect that would also be increased by not having the time to ensure the particles properly synchronised, but that wasn''t as important with the current set up. Without wings and with fewer thrusters, the rig''s movement speed was cut to a crawl, meaning there wouldn''t be as much need for Sav to rely on the rig''s system and sensors. Avoiding and targeting would be impacted, but the manual control of the pilot would likely make up for that.


    When Sav sprinted back out to the field, just barely in time for the next round, the power pack still had exposed cords. Jeff knew that it was a glaring problem, and that since it wasn''t covered by the paint, it would be possible for Sachiko''s rockets to get a lock on. With her speed lowered to by the lack of wings, even missiles that were successfully avoided would deal damage with their explosive radius. Jeff could only trust in Sav''s skill to avoid and minimise damage long enough for the pack to reach full charge.


    Another issue came to Jeff''s attention as the match started up again. There were signs that the particles in the power pack were starting to be rejected by the rig''s particles. Since they hadn''t been connected normally, they were building up occasional waste frequencies. Simply put, the control frequency of the backpack was just slightly misaligned. The result of which was that in addition to the normal delays and changes to the overall frequency, it produced small blocks of signal that prevented particles from maintaining their shape. That meant that the longer the fight went on, the more parts of the pack would revert to formless particles. It would start with one or two, then after a minute there would be about a grain of sand''s worth. By 5 minutes, it was unlikely that key components would be unaffected. Erring in the side of caution meant that the pack could only be used for 4 minutes.


    Not that Sav needed to know that; from the start of the match it was obvious that it wouldn''t last that long. Sachiko restocked her missile supplies during the break, and was enthusiastically showing just how much money she could burn. Explosions rained across the field as Sav jumped, rolled and dodged around to mitigate the damage. At one point she even used the spear to poll-volt further away. As erratic as it looked, it seemed to work; Sav managed to keep her rig intact for long enough for the pack to charge.


    It was clear throughout the round that Sachiko had no idea what to make of the weapon. That said, she was far from dumb enough to not put two and two together when the three metre barrel split open to reveal a series of energy condensers. The condensers were something like spark plugs; they allowed electricity to arc in the air for a fraction of a second. Unlike spark plugs however, that spark could be moved to a neighbouring condenser to double the power. Doing so required an increasing amount of energy each time it was attempted, all of which was needed in an instant. By the time the charge reached the end of the three metre long barrel, the amount of power was nearly twice a rig''s total output. While some of that power would disperse into the air, it was clear to anyone that could identify the weapon that getting hit by it would put an end to any fight.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Sachiko''s earlier confidence disappeared the moment she saw that dreadful weapon prepare to fire. The panic on her face was reflected in her rigs motions as she fired her thrusters to make as much distance between them as she could manage.


    The weapon sparked as condenser fed condenser. One by one, one hundred sparks added together in less than a second.


    Blinding light.


    A crack of thunder.


    An explosion that rained rig parts across the arena.


    Metal melted from heat as lightning passed through a shield as if it weren''t even there. But the shield managed to have some effect. Although it failed to stop the blow, it did manage to split it up. The lightning broke up into smaller parts, each drawn into a separate shield emitter like tiny lightning rods. The emitters and the surrounding metal melted and fractured, but the orange rig was somehow intact.


    Sachiko''s trusty launcher, however, wasn''t. The energy from that weapon was sure to set off any unused missiles, and as such she tore it off, along with the armour it was strapped to, and threw it away. Some of the energy that the shield managed to disperse struck the flying weapon and caused to explode, sending metal debris throughout the grounds.


    The match wasn''t over; Sachiko was still able to fight. Even without a shield to block out air resistance, she would still be able to beat Sav with speed alone, not letting her build up the power for a second attack. The gamble had failed and the match was sure to go against Sav''s favour.


    But as the smoke cleared, there was a figure approaching, just metres away from where Sachiko was hovering. The moment after she shot the attack, Sav started running forward, using the thrusters on her rig''s legs to close the distance as fast as she could. She hadn''t ever expected the weapon to work. It was a failed product to begin with; if it worked people would still use it.


    With a powerful jump, Sav swung the spear like a bat, striking the unprepared opponent down hard on the shoulder. Fortunately, the shield was broken and the hit landed hard. Furthermore, the armour had been removed with the launcher and the delicate inner were visible. The heavy blow caused a crunching sound as it was clear that bones were broken.


    But the shattered bones in Sachiko''s shoulder weren''t enough to stop her. Her black prosthetic arm didn''t even need that shoulder to function, and tormented her muscles with pain to move the rig''s fist into making a last-ditch punch at Sav.


    While the punch hit solidly, the attempt caused her earlier wounds to reopen. Painkillers were doing nothing to the pain from those wounds when searing hot metal and broken bones were added to the mix. The muscle shredding by the prosthetic was just enough to bring her over the line, fainting from the pain after successfully attacking.


    When the two rigs hit the ground, Sachiko''s rig retracted, sending the medical team into frenzy as they rushed out into the grounds. They had her onto a stretcher in moments, and the crowds cheered with roars that felt like they would never end. The match had been dynamic, explosive, fast and close. The scrappy finish with a dramatic melee only cemented their excitement; it was the kind of match that brought people to see more. Standing there, surrounded by the adoring fans, the cheering masses, was Savannah, Jeff''s fighter adorned in Jeff''s armour. It was a close fight against a worthy opponent and the pride that swelled in his chest was boundless.


    He was so content with that outcome that he didn''t even feel the need to send Sam a gloating text. They made it into the finals.


    The finals were a letdown after the excitement of the previous rounds. They were simply a junior league pilot from Sam''s county, an orthodox speed type fighter that made their way into the finals by honing the basics into a fine blade. While that worked well enough for them to get to the finals, it was pointless against Jeff and Sav''s planning. The match was over in one round and the contestants were just as disappointed as the crowds.


    The disappointment was short-lived. For Savannah, it ended just after the awards ceremony, when she was handed her prize money. For Jeff, it ended prior to that.


    As the trophy was being handed out, and representatives of the governments involved paid over their wagers, Jeff met with leading members of the International Body for Rig Science. They found out that Alicia Kaya had made his non-disclosure agreement invalid and rushed to meet with him. Luckily for them, Jeff''s price was fairly cheap. There was a Quadrennial Games later that year and he wanted them to pay for his and Sav''s trip. It included accommodation, travel, access to the matches and, most importantly, an invitation to the trade show.


    With Savannah''s potential, it was entirely possible for her to graduate out of the junior league before the next one, so Jeff felt that she needed to experience what those matches were like. The fact that Alicia would be paying for him to visit the trade show he had always dreamed of getting in to might have also contributed to his joy.


    Since the event was organised by the International Body for Rig Science, an invitation was something they had no problems getting and as such agreed. They rushed to get out the paperwork before Jeff had a moment to reconsider.


    The total cost of the trip to the Quadrennial Games was far more than they earned in prize money.


    With that, the friendly international came to an end and the teams all went home. Jeff hadn''t managed to meet with Sam since their match; she had been busy with packing up and visiting Sachiko in the hospital. While that was regrettable, he knew his student would recover and achieve far more. As he drove a truck filled with tools and parts away from the warm and dry city, he pulled over and took one last look at the distant arena where his and Sav''s partnership truly started. With a mixture of thoughts and feelings enveloping him, he sent Sam a message.


    ¡°See you next time.¡±

 Chapter 26 - The Hero Revives, Part 3

    Chapter 26


    ¡°See you next time.¡±


    A couple months had passed since Sam read those words, and in that time things remained constantly busy for her. After returning back to the school, exam block started and everyone within the School and Weapons Maintenance Department worked constantly to ensure the school model rigs were ready during that gruelling three week period. That level of constant work kept her from thinking, kept her from dwelling on the loss.


    When the results were announced there weren''t any real surprises. All of the students that possessed their own rig cores filled the leader board. Students were ranked based 70% on their practical skills and 30% from their academic performance. With Sachiko Kaya being the granddaughter of the woman who invented rigs, there was little doubt that she would lead the ranks in terms of academics. Her experiences at the friendly international tournament also went a long way towards improving her practical skills. While she didn''t score highest in practical, her total score was still first place.


    The student with the highest piloting score was Satou Campbell. With his earlier elimination from the competition, he returned to the school to find that his already dramatic fame had drastically increased. He was already the holder of the world¡¯s highest DC, the genetic factor that allowed for the controlling of rigs and other thought controlled technologies, but with the revaluation that his mother was the legendary pilot Sara Campbell an even greater stir was kicked up. The fearsome reputation, however, didn''t help his grades. Despite his mechanist Mia''s best efforts; he still only barely managed to pass the academic portion, putting his placement in fourth.


    Overall second place went to Lucy Riveria. When her twin sister Lauren was injured, Lucy took a small leave of absence to help her recover, and in that time learnt a lot from the recovering pilot. Their relationship had been strained before Lauren was hurt, and Lucy moved to study internationally to get away from the shadow of her more talented sister. But while Lauren was recovering, Lucy put all of that aside to care for her. In the process, she saw, step by step, how her sister operated her rig and improved by leaps and bounds from that.


    Third place went to the North American international student, Jenna Baker. While other students were busy with the friendly international, she dutifully spent her time practising and studying and otherwise filling her role as her class representative.


    The homeroom teacher that had, Satou, Sachiko and Jenna in her class, Deborah Burgess, apparently received a pay rise for her student''s performance. If Sam had been an actual employee of the school, and not just a contracted university student, she might have found that kind of blatant credit stealing distasteful. She might have even taken to grumbling about it under her breath and passive-aggressively tightening bolts too much; much like what her colleague Jared was doing. Jared had a particular grudge against Deborah, one that he made sure everyone in the department knew.


    As his research lab was closest to the piloting department, whenever Deborah needed something done, she would just kick him out of his room to get it done. The number of times his results were contaminated or lost because of her couldn''t be counted on just two hands. He had complained to administration plenty of times about it, but the school''s alumni were pilots not mechanists. That meant donations came from pilots, which meant keeping pilots happy meant more to them than keeping mechanists happy. It was a skewed and unfair system, but most of the staff in the maintenance department had contractual debts to pay back before they could quit.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    With the ending of exams, Sam''s workload briefly reduced. That was until the school took a mid-semester break. For ordinary students that was a time to relax, but for the top five, it meant a week long training camp with Deborah. Since real rig combat was a large part of that training, it meant Sam and Mia had to attend also.


    Deborah spent the week making damage for the pair of mechanists to fix, as she showed the pilots just how much of a difference there was in their skill. Before a bad injury contaminated her blood and prevented her from every using a rig with a core again, she had been a professional level pilot that represented her country in several high stakes matches. At the time of her retirement, speed builds like hers were only just becoming the current fashion, showing just how much more she could have achieved. That might have led to some resentment, as she tended to get aggressive in her lessons. On the final days of the training, Deborah even let the students use their full cores, instead of limiting to a school rig level. When they still failed to land a decisive victory, it really hammered home the gap between them.


    Despite the domineering appearance Deborah showed in front of the students, when Sam went to ask her about her rig''s performance, she found her clutching her leg in pain, with tears flowing while clutching at a bottle of suppressant pills. Anyone who saw that would immediately know that her condition had gotten worse. Even the power from a school model rig was causing the formless particles that poisoned her body to activate. Since she hadn''t been noticed, Sam slipped out, not knowing what she could possibly say in that situation.


    Before Deborah could even reach her peak as an athlete, her injury ended her career. When she finally recovered and was starting to gain some success as a coach, the same injury started to show signs that it would once again end her career. With Deborah''s small and underdeveloped body, that scene seemed like despair made whole. There wasn''t anything Sam could do; nothing accept keep it secret and hope that the deterioration would pass with time.


    After the camp the start of a new term came; a strange and unfamiliar chill filled the air about the campus. Another school within the same country issued a challenge. Even though Sam''s school had the best piloting students in the country, including more core rigs than anywhere else, the atmosphere was still lifeless. Sam racked her brain thinking about it but none the less couldn''t understand why everyone was so worried. Their opponent''s didn''t even have a core in their arena, and trained using power from the national power grid. How could a school like that be a threat?


    While asking around, Sam heard what the wager was. Her school was betting the arena''s core and their school was betting 2 year''s budget, after expenses. It seemed that the principle was confident, since betting a core would normally be unthinkable. But that only confused Sam more. That school wouldn''t survive without their budget. Were they just betting everything on the result? How desperate could they be? It was only at that point that the school''s name registered with her. It was that school. That one!


    It was the school that Jeff''s mysterious friend worked at.


    With that realisation, Sam did her best to dig up everything she could remember that Jeff had said about her. There really wasn''t a lot; Jeff tended not to talk about things that didn''t relate to either their work or her training. She could remember one time, however, when he started to talk, half-delirious from lack of sleep, about her. She was in his classes when he did his degree, and took a low grade scholarship despite having the grades to apply directly for a position on a professional team. He described her as a force of nature; a powerful wind that could be ridden but not opposed.


    With a draining kind of dread in the air, two weeks slowly crept into the past, and trucks filled with equipment pulled into the guest buildings of the arena. Their opponents finally arrived. With an unseasonable cold and an unreasonable wet, shivers were common throughout the school. Even Sam''s hands were shaking worse than when she was suffering from Sleepless withdrawal.


    With some effort, she pulled out her phone to simply clutch for support. Even before she realised what she was doing, Sam messaged Jeff.


    ¡°Diana Reilly is here. What should I do?¡±

 Chapter 27 - The Hero Revives, Part 4

    Chapter 27


    ¡°Diana Reilly is here. What should I do?¡±


    Reading that, Jeff couldn''t help but sigh. Just hours before, he received an email from Diana, or Dee as he knew her, telling him not to ruin her fun by giving spoilers to his students. The school she worked at was very different to Sam''s. They didn''t have any cores, so they ran school model rigs in maintenance mode; complete with a cord connecting the to the power grid.


    As a result, the students there had much harsher learning conditions and rules in combat. If the cord was cut, then it was a loss. If a shot misses and damages the grounds, then they would spend time after class filling in the hole. If a shot missed and hit a building, they would have to pay for the damages. Without a shield to protect the buildings, there was a lot of incentive to learn precision shooting. With fear of having to fix holes, there was a stigma against explosive weapons. And out of despair at the lack of available power, energy weapons were seen as useless. As such it was a school that specialised in bullets.


    It was somehow remarkable to Jeff that that school survives at all. Having been there to help out with their rig maintenance, he knew just how tightly wound everyone there was. Any kind of waste was like an affront to them, and if they had time to mess around then they had time to train. It was more like a military organisation than an educational one. That was actually the key to their survival. While they had never produced a pilot that made it to rank 1 in the country, the rank 2 spot had been held by one of theirs for a consistent 30 years. Despite that record, they had still never received a core to help with their training, and there was a decent reason for that; no one there had a DC above 45.


    While a DC of 40 was considered the base level required for rig combat, Sam''s school wouldn''t accept anyone with less than 45. On pure statistics, there was almost no chance of someone with less than that to become professionals in the modern sport. That was unless they went to Dee''s school. The current rank 2 had the abysmally low DC of 38, too low to even qualify for becoming a pilot. But since Dee''s school didn''t concern itself with DC and potential, it accepted anyone that was willing to put in an almost inhumane amount of work. While the government would love to implement the same training methods at Sam''s school, the reality was that any country that tried it had their best pilots defect to more pleasant environments.


    That school even made sure that its pilots respected their mechanists, and included classes in rig sciences that counted towards the initial subjects of a university degree. The reason they were chronically under-staffed was completely different to Sam''s school; the mechanists were expected to work just as hard as the students. As such they ended up even more overworked, but didn''t have the nice facilities to show for it. That was why they ended up using the same scam-like scholarship program. Though, they still had a marginally higher staff retention rate.


    Not that he really had time to think about that, the past few months were hardly the vacation he had hoped for. He barely had time to count his winnings when an international incident sparked.


    There was a hacker operating in their country that stole the designs for several high-performance rig armours, through social engineering and pivoting through several networks. He then sent the designs to some shady parts dealers who quickly produced their own cheap knock-offs that were just barely legally distinct enough to be sold. Even though that country''s higher-ups, pressured by lobbyists, wanted to prosecute that hacker, the two countries didn''t have any treaties about extradition or international prosecution.


    In order to get the guy and seize the servers, they had to have them placed as the bet in a rig match. But to get Jeff''s country to put that land, land in a city in the centre of the country, up as a bet, they had to offer nearly four times the amount of land, including a major solar farm. It was honestly a terrible deal, but they had to make a deal fast, or else the hacker could have destroyed the servers or sold the property. Once the land was a part of the deal, it could no longer be sold or changed in any way, until the end of the match, and doing so would be an international crime.


    The terms of the match were set as a best of three matches, with each match being an armour brake match with three different pilots. That meant three professional level pilots from each country with two victories netting the overall victory.


    While the junior league pilots had nothing to do with the matches, they were still required to go along as a show of support for their seniors. It was a tradition that came about when a professional pilot was involved in a sudden car crash before a match began, and they were able to avoid forfeiting due to a junior league pilot that happened to be in the crowd. But simply having to go to the hastily thrown together competition wasn''t what caused Jeff''s work. The fatal stupidity of another mechanist was to blame for that.


    It was a well-known issue in the industry that before major matches, mechanists tended to get killed off to get an advantage. As such, going anywhere alone, using unguarded vehicles and other similar activities were avoided like a plague. As a side note, plagues also had to be avoided; a mechanist was once assassinated via a plague that was set loose in their hotel. But the main issue was that the mechanist for one of the pilots at the competition didn''t follow that simple advice, and instead went to meet with their lover in a public park.


    While they sat on a bench, a package delivery drone that was flying overhead suddenly malfunctioned, inexplicably, and dropped its delivery, that happened to contain a shipment of new lead weights for a home gym. The resulting blunt trauma meant that they needed a new mechanist to continue with the event. When the junior league team was asked to provide a replacement, Jeff drew the short straw. As in, they actually drew straws and Jeff lost. He then had a week to learn everything he could about his temporary partner.


    Abby Parker was her name, and she was a 188cm tall pale skinned woman of Russian decent whose piercing blue eyes were as cold as winter. She kept her golden blond hair cropped short and her atmosphere could only be described as practical. It was an atmosphere that she had honed at a school which was her country''s equivalent to Dee''s school. On the surface, some people might think that she was similar to Sav, but Jeff could tell in an instant that they really didn''t have much in common.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Abby''s weapon of choice was a rig scale anti-material rifle with a 15cm diameter barrel, 4 meters long; a precision weapon with a heavy impact. She then topped that massive weapon off with a sharp and dense axe strapped to the end of the barrel. She was completely a power type, whose every action was slow and deadly. She also had a habit of disengaging and attacking from a distance, only entering a melee once her target had taken damage.


    In terms of combat style, she and Sav were essentially opposites. They might even be described, somewhat clich¨¦d, as two sides of the same coin.


    He was too busy simply understanding his pilot and researching his opponent and didn''t have time to watch the two matches before his own. Yet despite their preparation, their fight was never needed. The first two rounds were lost and it would have been pointless to do the third.


    So despite not having actually participated in the event, Jeff was sent along with Abby and the other two losing pilots to an official reprimand, a session where they spend days in a dull room being lectured by economists and civil servants about the value of the land they lost and what could have been done with the land they would have won. It was actually fairly rare for official reprimands to be given, but the value of the opportunity meant there was a lot of political pressure to be publicly punished. If Jeff had been brave enough to watch television, he would have seen a far worse berating. The news needed someone to blame, so he, as a foreigner, and Abby, as a pilot with a low DC, received far more media attention then was entirely fair, despite not actually having the opportunity to fight.


    The witch-hunt even led to the governing body for rig mechanist putting his licence under in an ''under-observation'' status. That lit a fire deep inside him. That was the status given to someone suspected of having cheated or taken a fall, and even once the observation period was over, it would remain on his employment history for the rest of his life. A lot of pilots in the professional league would see that mark and not hire based solely on that, not wanting to risk association with cheating. The injustice made him want to immediately run out an expose every one of the body''s dirty little secrets. If they wanted to mess around with his life then he''d mess up theirs!


    But with a few drinks in his system he started to cool down. Bringing down the body wouldn''t change a thing, only make his situation worse. The mark didn''t really change his immediate situation much, anyway. He still had his contract with Sav, and her career was only just beginning. He still had many years before her retirement to work out what he would do next. On the other side of that, he would have to work out what to do once she retired.


    Rig pilots, like most athletes, retired young. Rig piloting was a young person¡¯s game and as the body and mind deteriorated, the chances of losing only increased. Rig mechanists however, only improved with age and experience, and as such had much longer careers, partnering with plenty of pilots. But Sav was Jeff''s first pilot, and he would still need pilots after her to trust him. If a serious injury forced her to retire young, it would be almost impossible for him to continue on as a professional mechanist. If she retired young, he''d have to either work at a school or even find work in another field.


    One thing was certain; he needed to get some revenge.


    Rigs contained some of the most advanced programming ever developed by mankind. Compared to that, delivery drones were absolutely nothing. It was a common conspiracy theory that the security on them was so bad deliberately, to allow for government sanctioned assassinations. The reality was that it came down to a dispute between the manufacturers of the drones and the makers of the CPU used in the drones. The user agreement for the CPU prevented unofficial updates and that prevented the drone company from making security updates. The device was basically being held up for ransom, and the drone makers found that it was more cost effective that one or two drones simply failed to work from time to time.


    Thus the assassinations were a result not a design. A story that a certain news media production company found less funny when a drone, coincidentally, lost control and crashed through the window during a meeting, over-heating, catching fire and burning a large server room, requiring the building be evacuated. When the drone was investigated the drone''s components had, as always, erased its access history.


    Since that event was entirely unrelated to Jeff, he returned home to his team''s headquarters. There he was greeted with a lot of guilty looking faces that wouldn''t make eye contact. As he went into his work space, he found the team manager waiting for him there.


    ¡°I''m sorry,¡± he started to say, though his face and tone seemed more like apathy and self-interest than remorse, like he was reading a script into a mirror and got distracted by a new mole, ¡°Our team can''t take the bad publicity of having you. As such we are buying out of the contract and finding a replacement. We wish you luck in your future employment. Please turn in your security pass on the way out and make no attempts at contacting Savannah Luca.¡±


    He was fired. It was a fairly new contract with a reasonable buy out option, enough that he wouldn''t need to work for a couple months even if he spent money wildly, but it also marked the end of his career. And that led to how he spent the remainder of his time before he received Dee and Sam''s messages. He spent it looking for work. He tried at every professional and junior level pilot that advertised, throughout the world, even if it was a shortage of mechanist, the observation mark was still toxic.


    While he looked for work, he returned to his home city back in the same country as Sam and Dee. A local rig parts store had connections with some illegal betting rings he used to use, and he was able to get some part time work there through them. The store was actually one of the many shops that made the cheap knock-offs for the hacker that got him into this mess; something that he found some dark humour in. That was actually one of the tasks that he found most rewarding. Taking someone''s hard work and making a quick buck out of it, it somehow filled the pain he felt. He had spent decades working towards that job, and unavoidable politics brought it down around him. That burning rage that he held inside only seemed to quell when he inflicted that same pain on others, or when he drank.


    Maybe the one good part to come from all of it was that his sleeping pattern became a lot healthier. It was almost like a coping mechanism, sleeping so he wouldn''t have to think about what he was doing. He couldn''t imagine what he would be like if he was like Sam and used Sleepless.


    At the time Sam messaged him, Jeff was too busy to think about helping her. He had looked through other people''s hacks and was starting to grow tired of that. He was busy because he was breaking into a server through a chain of unsecured phones. The company was tasked with designing Sara Campbell''s new rig, and he didn''t want to miss that chance.


    For that reason, and Dee''s request, he replied to her saying, ¡°Sorry can''t help you there.¡±

 Chapter 28 - The Hero Revives, Part 5

    Chapter 28


    ¡°Sorry can''t help you there.¡±


    That kind of response wasn''t something that Sam expected. She hadn''t talked to Jeff since the last competition, but he was still someone she felt she could depend on. While it made her a little worried about fighting unprepared, it was also somehow understandable. Diana was Jeff''s friend and had been for more than a decade. It was natural for him to side with her. He and Savannah were also training hard in order to break through to the professional league, it wouldn''t be surprising if he was just in the middle of something and wasn''t able to help her.


    An irrational sense of abandonment threatened to rise up and storm through her mind, but she did her best to quell it. Her best proved good enough as she saw a figure approaching her. It was true that she no longer felt abandonment; that had been replaced with an instinctive kind of fear that started first in her back and only later made it to her mind. It was a kind of fear that seemed baseless, yet was impossible to dismiss. Objectively, the woman walking towards her was not in the least bit scary, at least not in the traditional sense of horned monsters or wrinkled hags. No, she was definitely a frail kind of beautiful with earthy brown hair that invoked images of fertile soil and pail skin tone that shone radiantly like it was seeing sunlight for the first time. But the aura that emanated from her was almost physical, like she passively demanded that even the air obey her. When Sam''s eyes met with Diana''s steel grey eyes, she realised that she hadn''t been breathing, yet still couldn''t bring herself to do so.


    Only after the panic of death triggered an involuntary breath did Sam break free enough to examine her competition. Diana, despite the initial frail appearance, was clearly not at all the kind of delicate flower that some might take her for. Resting in her hand was a tool box that couldn''t have weighed less than a dozen kilograms, yet there was no sign of even the slightest trouble from it weight. Her clothes were also very sensible and practical, with cargo pants held up by a tool belt, leather boots with a presumable steel cap, and a loose shirt made from a breathing material tucked into her pants, all under a lab coat; a lab coat that, while you intuitively knew that it was once white, it had been stained grey for so long that any other colour couldn''t be called its natural colour. Even her hair was kept in a pony-tail that was fed under the coat to keep it out of the way. What Sam hadn''t noticed until they got closer was that Diana was actually a lot shorter than she had appeared, being only as tall as Sam herself; it was only her aura that made her seem towering.


    When within arm¡¯s length from Sam, Diana suddenly stopped in place. She looked Sam up and down, and then gave a cheerful nod, one filled with satisfaction and acceptance. She then began to speak, with a voice rich with determination, whose every simple syllable seemed to be thought through, planned and crafted; as if her craft was words and not machines.


    ¡°Yes, I think you will do nicely.¡±


    Before Sam could ask what she meant, Diana turned away and walked towards the waiting pilots from her school. There were five in total, and each was dressed with their uniform so pristine that a soldier on parade would proudly march beside them. Furthermore, none of them had adjusted their uniform in any way, even the three girls used hairbands in the schools colours and their black leather shoes glistened with fresh polish. In contrast, the students of Sam''s school made adjustments to their uniform so frequently that the word had almost lost all meaning. The two boys were lean and muscular with the build of a martial artist and a body devoid of fat. With scars, both old and new, and skin that looked sun scorched and as hard as old leather, they were more hardened than some actual soldiers she had seen. If someone had told her that they were experienced pilots nearing their retirement, she might have believed it, as their exertions had definitely aged them, both physically and mentally. The girls looked much better, though that was clearly due to them taking steps to preserve their looks, underneath that effort their tight muscles and calloused hands could be seen.


    Just looking at them made her feel embarrassed for her school¡¯s students. It was like looking at adults and looking at children. Diana had soldiers and she had kids. Worse still, Diana''s students stood in awe and respect when Diana approached, but the kids of Sam''s school wouldn''t even do that for the coaches, let alone support staff. With a shiver of appending doom, she ran back to the workshop to research and make adjustments to Sachiko''s rig.


    The first thing she did was pull up that school''s alumni database and opened up the performance history of the school''s most famous pilots. Too her surprise, the alumni were listed as confidential, despite her having a clearance that should have been high enough to access something like a school''s history. She was able to get a picture of what she wanted to know by looking through media pieces and public betting records. What wasn''t surprising was the common link that the best graduates had; accuracy.


    It was said that the country''s number two pilot, an alumni of that school, had only ever missed two shots in her entire professional life. Considering that accuracy had been maintained while speed based rigs were the common, admiration and jealousy were just a matter of course. While it was unlikely that anyone that skilled was amongst the new students, it still meant that Sachiko would be unlikely to win based on avoidance. That meant a more defensive build would be required. Thankfully the rules of the challenge meant that she wouldn''t have to completely redesign the rig.


    The challenge was a best of five, one on one matches using school model rigs and no personal cores. Since school models were being used, Sam only needed to choose one that already suited her plan and make fine adjustments and calibrate it to match Sachiko. The scoring system wasn''t a break match either, since neither school wanted to have to pay for the repairs that would involve, and instead was dependant on a power system. Once a pilot used up a certain amount of power, that was used both for offence and defence, then they lose the match. The rules obviously favoured the opposition, but the home team was still needlessly confident. One part of the challenge that was especially worrying was that neither side would be able to see the opponent''s rigs in advance. There was some argument that since school model rigs only had limited customisation, it wasn''t needed; but limited wasn''t zero.


    Since power was the constraint to the match, rather than integrity, the mechanist who made the more efficient system would be the one who had the advantage. Further into the day, Mia entered the lab that Sam and Jared had been working in. While the two of them were working on the other four, Mia had insisted on working on Satou''s school rig herself. Considering the consequences for the school if they failed, no one wanted to indulge her, but her parents put pressure on the school, which in turn put pressure on them, and Mia was allowed to do as she pleased.


    The following day, starting with the first bell that would normally ring to start the school day, the first round began. Representing Sam''s school was Adam Shaderman, the fifth overall ranked student, who she recalled seeing around, but whose face slipped from her mind almost immediately after seeing him. He was a technically sound pilot who focused on his fundamentals and followed the trends well. In other words he was generic and forgettable without any unique talents. In a few years¡¯ time he would probably be able to put those skills to use in teaching, but in competition, he wouldn''t stand a chance.


    As predicted, his match was over very quickly; with the blond haired girl he was set against using a repeating crossbow to hammer him with explosive bolts. At first she wondered why a school that was always short on supplies would use disposable bolts like that, but then she noticed some inconsistencies in the impacts of the blasts. Mass produced explosives almost always gave off identical blasts. That meant that the bolts were hand made. If the student was taught how to make her own ammunition, then assembling what she needed for herself would make it a more viable option even on a budget.


    Adam focused on avoidance, despite being told that blocking would be more effective, after the first explosive went off against his armour. Even if the rig protected his body, he had still been able to feel the shock-wave and hear a lot of the blast. That had rattled him enough that he followed his training and instincts rather than the plan. It was apparently hard to concentrate while being blown up, and a high DC didn''t mean a high tolerance for fear.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Having lost the first match and the momentum that went with it, up next was the school hero Satou. His many fans cheered him on as he entered the arena, his school rig modified to be a shining silver and gold design with elaborate etchings of vines. His armour was thin and light, with a disproportionately large thruster set strapped to the back. Sam instantly knew that it had been a bad idea to let Mia have her way. It was clear that she had listened too much to what Satou wanted and not explained to him the reality of the situation. While the thruster was the newest model that Mia''s company made, one with an extremely high efficiency rating, it was clear that she hadn''t taken the context of that rating into account. It was easy to look up an efficiency rating. It was more time consuming to do the math on its efficiency relative to its weight. Apparently Mia had instead opted to spend that time on the looks Satou wanted, since that thruster was about three times as heavy as their supply would accommodate. If she had looked at what the other units, on both sides, had done, she would have noticed that everyone was using lightweight thrusters with worse on paper efficiency ratings. There was more skill required in that method, but they wouldn''t have been the top five students of each school if they couldn''t handle that.


    As such Jeff''s saying proved true once again, and no magic happened. The match started with the monolithic thruster kicking up dirt as Satou pushed forward at breakneck speed. Satou had planned to make the most of the engine by equipping a long, two handed sword, but that plan swiftly turned into a liability. Using short, controlled bursts of power, his opponent few into blind spots of his swings and waited for him to make long turn around to repeat the attack, all the while being pelted by rifle bullets. From the stadium lab, Sam could see the camera feed of his opponent''s face and more than anything else, she looked bored. It looked to Sam like she had come there excited to have a challenge and instead was faced with simple avoidance training. After a few short moments, the large engine consumed his power limit and the match was over.


    Sam''s school had lost the first two matches without so much as landing a hit. It could well be over before she and Sachiko had a chance to do anything. She could only hope that the two pilots could give them the opportunity.


    The third round was between the remaining girl from Diana''s school and Jenna Baker, the buxom blond exchange student and class representative. During holiday training camp, Sam had been surprised by how much Jenna had improved. Sam had always taken her as someone that was a rig pilot for the sake of fame and glamour, yet she worked bitterly to improve herself when the others left to compete and she was left as the top pilot remaining. Furthermore, Jenna''s combat style was very similar to what Diana''s school taught. She was a fast moving sniper, just like her opponent, and the match would come down to skill more than planning.


    When the match began, both pilots took to the air, spiralling and adjusting their heights so that they could each be as far from the other as possible. Height played an important role in their duel. It was easier to shoot from higher ground, especially with the sun on its way to its morning peak, but shedding height was also a way of gaining sudden bursts of speed that could be used to avoid attacks. Almost a minute into the match, and not a single shot had been fired as both parties ducked and weaved through the air. Their energy reserves were at the point where even a single shielded direct hit would drain them dry. It was at that point that Jenna suddenly dropped her speed considerably and lined up a shot. Her opponent didn''t miss a beat and shot while keeping her speed.


    But that was Jenna''s plan, when her opponent shot her thrusters suddenly fired sidewards and fire burst from the cold barrel of her black rifle. Her opponent''s bullet grazed her armour, bringing her power to the edge of her limit, but her one shot struck true. Jenna''s bullet stuck against her opponent''s armour, directly above the heart and her power drained in an instant safely slowing the round. Her cool and collected planning had ensured Jenna''s victory and the school gained its first point back.


    The fourth round was between the first of the two male opponents and the red haired student from the neighbouring country, Lucy Riveria. Lucy training with her sister had paid huge returns, as her control had become far more precise than it previously was and her attacks were far more varied. It worried Sam somewhat that Lucy had chosen to use an energy pistol as her weapon, but she had insisted that her training with ballistics was too limited for her to make an effective change.


    ¡°It''s about using a bad weapon well, rather than a good weapon badly. That''s what my sister says¡±


    Sam finally agreed when hearing that, but she none the less dreaded that when she saw the opponent''s rig. The beastly thing could barely be considered a rig, as tank would have been a better description. It was bound in thick plates of metal with sharp angles that barely showed a human form. With armour like that, it was clear that they would be using the strength of the metal instead of slowing projectiles with energy. Without a shield, the pilot would be thrown about and shaken, but it would save a lot of power. In that situation, a ballistic or explosive weapon, something that pushed them around a lot and made shock-waves, would be the ideal solution.


    When they started, neither party took off. While Sam was reasonably confident that the lump of metal couldn''t fly, rather than didn''t, she wasn''t sure why Lucy didn''t. Flight was her biggest advantage, yet she didn''t show any signs of using it. Instead, she simply started to run. She ran to her opponent''s side while he very slowly turned to try and face her. It seemed that even without her thrust, she could still out speed her bulky enemy. As she ran, she took shots at her opponent. While all of them hit, none of them did much damage. Her attacks were draining her energy quickly, but she still had a lot in reserve, especially since she didn''t have to fly.


    It took a few moments, but Sam eventually realised what Lucy''s plan was, and after two minutes of shooting at a near stationary target, with her energy nearing zero, it finally came to fruition. Her opponent''s energy reserve, that had remained essentially full for the whole match, suddenly started to drop at an alarming rate. Then a moment later, his armour was ejected from his rig in a burst of steam. Lucy had planned her shots carefully and manually controlled the energy settings of the weapon. At first it had chewed through her power, since she was drilling tiny holes in select locations of the armour, but then she just had to use small amounts carefully to slowly heat the places that the holes exposed. Against a moving target, the plan would have been impossible, and for a less skilled pilot, it still would have been.


    What she had exposed were cooling systems. A rig that armoured would cook its pilot and kill off its own formless particles without a means of cooling itself. Lucy had first heated the reserve coolant, a tank of emergency fluid that the rig could pump throughout the rig in the event of sudden jumps in heat. Once that was fully hot, she started to gradually raise the temperature of the main coolant that passively circulated the rig, like a kind of blood or oil for the formless particles. When that got too hot, the rig diverted the emergency coolant that was near boiling by that point. When the rig realised that it was boiling itself, it diverted the pilot''s air conditioning to try and mitigate the problem, which caused the sudden and drastic drain in power as an inefficient cooling device tried to cool the entire armour. It was only at that point that the pilot noticed the problem and tried to take measures to fix the situation. By that point it was too late and the emergency safety systems activated, ejecting the armour and engaging the shield to protect the pilot from the steam. When the danger had past he had already used more than his power allocation and the match was over.


    It was a strategy that showed Lucy''s knowledge of rig construction, but it was also a plan that capitalised on the enemy''s weakness, a low DC. If the pilot had been from Sam''s school, he would have been able to access more of the rigs information, and maybe noticed the changes being made to background systems in time to do something about them. Instead he only had access to the most basic readout, and lost because of it. It was Sam''s honest belief on seeing that fight that Lucy would have made a better mechanist than pilot, and made a note to herself to recommend it to her later.


    With that win, the scores were level and final match would be the decider. She took a look at Sachiko, who was about to make her way out. Nodding to her and wishing her luck, Sam waited from her monitoring booth for the match to begin. Sachiko''s opponent was nothing like Lucy''s, his armour was a lean and simple design, the generic design that most people were using. What was unusual was his weapon choice. She didn''t recognise it. It was a kind of energy weapon, she could see that much, but the model wasn''t one she had encountered, even just in textbook form. Looking through her database, she found a lot of patents that looked similar, but no exact match. The closest matches seemed to be either a railgun or a laser, though she couldn''t see down the boxy barrel enough to make out which. Taking a photo of the weapon, she sent it through on a message to Jeff.


    ¡°Have you seen this before? Any idea what it does?¡±

 Chapter 29 - The Hero Revives, End Part

    Chapter 29


    ¡°Have you seen this before? Any idea what it does?¡±


    Looking at the photo on his phone for only a few moments, Jeff realised that he did recognise the weapon. It made sense that he would recognise it; after all, he had sold it to the kid in the first place. The kid had come into the parts shop a few days prior and said all of the right things to let him know that he was looking for some legally grey, discounted parts. It just so happened that Jeff had the kind of thing he was looking for saved on a data drive, whose identifiable features had been removed, just lying around and waiting to be sold. The weapon¡¯s design was copied from the latest thing a major design firm was working on; so new that it hadn''t hit the market yet. It gave Jeff a little bit of sarcastic joy that his copy was being used in a competition before the real thing. That was the gold standard amongst licence cracking hackers.


    The weapon itself was a combination of existing technologies, applied in an interesting new way. It took the point to point magnetic field projector of a plasma weapon as the start, and got crazier from there. In its normal use the projector magnetically isolates a line, or that was the simplest way to explain it, and the plasma was shot down that tunnel. This new weapon didn''t launch gases however. Instead, it launched sound waves. The waves would be concentrated and contained within the isolated air, with a circular diameter less than a bullet. Any structure that got hit by those waves would be shredded by the repeating standing waves. The destructive beam was also invisible, other than a faint disturbance in the air at certain angles, and it didn''t have the energy requirements of a plasma or lightning weapon. But its most devastating effect was what happened when it targeted rigs.


    From one way of looking at them, no matter how solid or heavy a rig might appear, it was still possible to describe its materials as a liquid, due to the programmable and fluid nature of the formless particles that they were constructed from. Each cell block that the rig formed knew what it was within the context of the program, such that a rig''s hand formed fingers and not wings. That kind of complicated structuring was possible since resonance ensured that each particle knew what it was. That was why compatible resonances between parts and pilots were the most important part of a mechanist''s job. But that weapon was something that used resonance as a means of attack, and if a mechanist knew the frequencies that an opponent''s rig was utilising, then the weapon could cause the whole rig to melt off of its core. When combined with espionage and hacking, it was a one hit kill weapon against any rig.


    From what he had heard, it was unlikely that the lab that made it would get approval to sell it, yet it was already going to be used in a match. ¡°Too bad for them¡±, he thought with a dismissive shrug. He sent a warning to Sam just saying, ¡°Invisible dangerous projectile¡± and went back to what he was working on, but now with the live stream of the match in the background. He had spent the last day trying to crack his way into Alicia B. Kaya''s servers to try and see what she had cooked up for Sarah Campbell''s new rig. As anyone would have guessed, the security around it was just about as tight as it came, but after piggybacking through a handful of less secured devices, he finally had a way in, and just had to wait for the slow process of bouncing through each of those devices to finish his preparations.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    The first step was connecting to the head office of a major caf¨¦ chain. From there he followed a link in the network to the franchise that was set up within Alicia''s building. One by one, he tested the various people''s devices as they connected to the Wi-Fi within that caf¨¦ until he found one that would work; a phone with its own data plan that belonged to someone who worked on the right floor. Jeff then got that phone to connect to the company network using its authentication, and gained access to a formless particle tank. With that, he embedded a secret command that once the particles were used in anything sufficiently large, such as experimental parts, they would divert some of the particles into forming a network transmitter. That way, when the part was plugged into the isolated server that the designers were using, he would have a gateway there to look inside.


    About half way through Sachiko''s match, he finally had a connection, and by the time her shield was down to quarter power, he had implemented a back-door program that ensured he wouldn''t have to follow through the chain every time he wanted to do anything. What he found there was truly surprising to him, and he immediately started to make copies of everything he found. As it turned out, the resonance disrupting weapon that had, just moments prior, shattered the armour off of Sachiko''s rig hadn''t been developed by the lab he got it from, but instead they had been fed the research by Alicia''s company. It wasn''t the only piece of new tech that they had distributed like that, either. It seemed that Kaya & Co Pty Ltd. was saving money by having other companies do the risky experiments in their labs. Each of the companies were really only getting a small piece of the puzzle, however, and it was only once the pieces were assembled that her plan became clear.


    It was an entirely new generation of rigs, whose performance completely outstripped the prior, and would ensure that anyone who didn''t upgrade would unquestionably lose. The marketing files attached listed the price of a single rig as more than twenty times as much as a previous generation model, and countries would really have no choice but to pay it. After all, if they didn''t and their enemies did, then they could kiss any hope of winning territories goodbye.


    Not wanting to see Alicia profit, he dumped all of the files he collected onto an anonymous file sharing site and spread links to them on technical sites that mechanists and hackers visited. He then made a list of each of the parts he included in the new model and the names of the labs that were making them. Sarah Campbell would be showing off the new rig at the Quadrennial Games, so Jeff had until then to ensure cheap alternatives were available. Luckily, he still had his invitation to the trade show, so he would definitely be there when his plan either succeeded of failed. As he set his plan in motion, he looked at the monitor to see Sachiko strike the winning blow, using her own broken chest piece as a knife to destroy her opponent''s weapon then swinging that broken weapon like a club to beat her opponent into submission; like an amazon princess on a bad day. She was obviously in a worse shape than her opponent, with metal fragments from the broken gear cutting her body, but that didn''t stop her from finishing the match. With that, Sam''s school had won three of five and retained their core.


    He attached a link to where he had dumped the files and messaged Sam.


    ¡°Congratulations on the victory, but I''m afraid that you''ve been played by Diana. The link isn''t connected to that, but reading it will tell you about that weapon.¡±

 Chapter 30 - The Seaside Stadium, Part 1

    Chapter 30


    ¡°Congratulations on the victory, but I''m afraid that you''ve been played by Diana. The link isn''t connected to that, but reading it will tell you about that weapon.¡±


    With Sachiko needing medical attention, Sam hadn''t noticed that the message arrived, and even if she had she wouldn''t have had time to read through the link anyway. Even with her partner¡¯s injury, she still had work piling up as a result of that match. Each of the rigs used needed to be maintained and reset, and the one that Sachiko used had been damaged to the extent that most other places would buy a new one, rather than trying to piece together the jigsaw of parts that had been dumped in the workshop. That mysterious weapon acted like a thousand hungry wolves whenever it hit something, if she hadn''t had Jeff''s warning about the invisible beam, the match probably would have been over in seconds. The damage cause by the beam even broke through the shield when it did hit. Or rather, just going by the energy consumption, it didn''t seem like that shield even noticed it was there. The readings she took just indicated the presence of a strong magnetic field and a dense air pressure. If she had to reprogram the shield to block higher air-pressure, than it would act like a wall whenever the rig moved too quickly.


    After a week of working of the shattered device, on top of her regular duties, she had finally caught up with her work. She could have done it much sooner by working at night, but she was still technically required to have Jared there. While he usually was fine with fudging the system and just saying he was supervising her, that wouldn''t work if they were in different suburbs at the time. Unlike Sam, he needed to sleep. Instead she spent some of her free time looking into the files Jeff linked her, and soon found that a lot of her classmates had also seen them. They were all speculating about the validity of the rumoured next generation of rigs, and cooing over how trustworthy the sauce was. One thing was for certain, if the leak was legitimate, it wasn''t obtained legally.


    There hadn''t been an actual generational increase in rig technology in Sam''s lifetime, with the industry instead making small incremental improvements. From what she had learnt about it, the transition from second to third and third to fourth hadn''t been particularly smooth, and they were accompanied by radical pushes between countries. During the second to third, four whole countries had been devoured by their neighbours in a series of bad bets by increasingly desperate leaders. If that kind of thing was going to happen again, then pilots would likely be pushed through their schooling faster and mechanists would be scooped up even before graduating.


    Despite the company''s official denial of the validity of the leaks, Sam was very confident that they were real. She had seen the evidence for herself. That energy weapon was included amongst the files, called by a temporary name ''Phase-Disruption Cannon''. When she read about the PDC''s abilities, she was terrified that something like that had been used against Sachiko, more so that it had been a student pilot who had acquired it. A professional would have the skills to ensure that they wouldn''t accidentally kill their opponent, but giving a kid such a destructive weapon was absolute madness. She couldn''t even begin to imagine what kind of idiot sold it to him in the first place.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Aside from the wild speculation about the files, and the surprising new components that seemed to be dug out from them with each passing day, Sam also came to realise what Jeff had meant when he said that Diana had played her. Just to survive, Diana''s school had to cut back on their expenses, including downsizing their staff. Since they had to get rid of at least one mechanist, and Diana was a convenient scapegoat for them, as the mechanist that was there during the match, she was quickly fired. Being fired, however, got her out of her contract early and by the very next day she had a job with a professional team in the neighbouring country. Considering how quick the turn-around was, Sam immediately knew that it had been planned out in advance. Diana said that Sam would do, she had meant that she would work as an opponent that would beat her. Something about being used like that rubbed Sam the wrong way; she couldn''t feel like the victory was earned if the opponent wanted to lose.


    For a while after that life flowed in a regular pattern and the hype over the leak died down. As a few months past and another block of exams passed by also, a new buzz started to fill the air. The Quadrennial Games were only a few days away, and Sam clutched the ticket in her hand with a kind of cramped grip that was a delicate balance between crushing it out of excitement and treating it like the most delicate of eggshells. A week before the previous exam, Sachiko''s grandmother, the legendary creator herself, called Sachiko and told her their family''s company was making an important announcement at the games and, as such, Sachiko and her mechanist were required to be there. With their time working together, Sachiko had become one of Sam''s closest friends, and that friendship earned her a ticket to mechanist heaven.


    Sam was leaving a few days prior to the event since Sachiko had to have her rig with her for whatever her family had planned and it was a lot slower transporting a rig than it was a person, especially with the safety inspections at each and every stop. No country wanted to risk accidental core detonation, even if there was basically no chance of that, and as such they made her go through the song and dance of demonstrating it was contained. Her final stop before reaching the rig capitol of the world was Punta Arenas in Chile. While it had been a quiet and relatively small city three generations prior, it had quickly expanded into a thriving mega-city with more rig related labs than anywhere else in the world. As the closest city to the stadium, it was only natural that its growth would be tied to the growth of rigs.


    In a waiting area of the airport there, Sam could see the boxy frame of the mark one rig that Erin Kaya first showed off to the world, proudly on display. Unlike the modern rigs that had form fitting designs that sat over the body, the mk1 had a style that looked like boxes strapped to the limbs and chest, with a larger box strapped to the back that the pilot controlled it from. The most surprising part of it was how few of its parts were formless particle based. She had heard the stories that a lot of it was made by hand, but Sam had assumed that meant programmed. With how clunky it was, she almost couldn''t believe that it had been as revolutionary as the invention of electricity.


    While she sat there waiting for her next flight, she saw a familiar figure. Slim build, pale skin that was either bordering on or well past unhealthy, tawny brown hair in its natural messy state, as well as the industry standard lab coat; it was Jeff. She hadn''t seen him since the tournament, and even though she later found out about the way he was fired, she hadn''t heard where he was or what he had been up to. Feeling a playful desire to tease him, she stood up and sent him a message.


    ¡°Turn around!¡±

 Chapter 31 - The Seaside Stadium, Part 2

    Chapter 31


    ¡°Turn around!¡±


    Reading that, Jeff took off in a run and ducked around a corner, his heart thumping and his lungs burning for air. He hadn''t noticed the sender, and had assumed such a short message was from one of the anonymous contacts he had worked with since arriving in Punta Arenas. Working alone, he would never hack each of the parts he needed in time, and instead turned to his network to pull together every trustworthy person willing to implicate themselves. He was so desperate that even unskilled help was useful, bringing in people who just had to run programs they were handed and keep their mouths shut about it. A large number of the people he was working with belonged to an anti-rig protest group, who formed after the loss of their countries and land, and who had more experience avoiding legal interference than he did. When he had received messages from them before, he hadn''t dared to sit around waiting to see what he was supposed to be running from.


    After he calmed down, he realised that the phone he received the message on was his ordinary one, not the secure one that they contacted him on. Only then did he realise just how crazy that made him look. The message had been from Sam, and he could see her standing not far from where he had been. It was easy to recognise her, as her short height and childlike features seemed almost comical compared to the professional clothing she tended to ware. The stunted growth was definitely the side effect of Sleepless, the drug that Sam used to avoid having to ever sleep, which prevented most people from getting started, that and the lethal risks of stopping.


    In the several months since he last contacted her, he had been too busy to notice that they hadn''t talked. His network got him transferred to a parts store in Punta Arenas that was a common hangout for people like shady designers and programmers. The off-brand parts that were sold made sure than every money-strapped pilot in town knew where to find it, while their no questions asked policy on buying designs to register made them a popular place to distribute hacked parts. That place turned out to be the perfect place to set up, as he pinned bounties on the wall for the parts he wanted and resold the parts that were brought in to fund the bounties. Through doing that, he had collected discount versions of most of the parts that were being used in the new generation rigs.


    The problem was, however, that he didn''t have all of the parts. There were a few critical pieces that were apparently being designed in the Kaya household itself, and no one had managed to crack in there. That was why he was at the airport; he had been told that there would be an opportunity to break the Kaya network passing through. While he hadn''t been told what it was, he had been told that it would be obvious when he saw it. Seeing Sam, he knew what they had in mind. If she was in Chile at that time, then she had to be headed for the Quadrennial Games, and if she was headed there early, then she was travelling with a rig; Sachiko Kaya''s rig, at that. He just needed to infect that rig, and when whatever upgrades Alicia tried to install are uploaded, he can just have it send them to him. He still had the transmitter file on hand, since he had used it a lot lately, so it wouldn''t take much time to upload to the rig once he was near it. The security programming would normally take a little time to bypass, but he wrote the code that Sam used and included a way through it.


    He did feel a little bad about always going behind her back, but justified it to himself that she would never know, and that if she was really ready to be a mechanist, she would spot his breach before it activated. The kind of stunt he was planning was actually fairly common amongst competitive level rig matches. With land and resources at stake, sabotage was an obvious thing to attempt. That was why every mechanist worth the name, at least at a professional level, made a model version of the code they were going to install, as well as the version that was going to be implemented in the rig. If the difference between the two was too great then it was likely that something wasn''t building correctly; which either meant badly made parts or sabotage. That wasn''t always the case, sometimes there was simply just a lot of faulty formless particles, or incompletely deleted old code, and that resulted in a false error message. In that case, it was still advisable to replace the particles rather than use the rig equivalent of rusted parts.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    As Sam started to look for him with a confused expression on her face, he used a crowd of people to slip past her and went down the other direction. Rigs were stored in a particular section of the airport whenever they were transported. It was a barricaded section designed to try and divert an explosion away from important parts of the city. They design was never very effective, but they were mostly built for alleviating fears. The way that rigs were transported did make the general public feel more secure about travelling with a potential nuclear weapon, but they also left them vulnerable to sabotage. He sent a message to one of his accomplices and waited for a response. If things went the way he wanted, the airport security would have been sent a secure message with a government identification telling them to have a camera malfunction for a few minutes.


    Once he was sent a message confirming that they were down, he casually walked into the storage area. While dressed like a mechanist, and walking with the confidence of someone who was supposed to be there, he walked up to Sachiko''s rig without anyone there bothering to check him, especially not the security who were in the middle of looking the other way. Any of the baggage handlers would have just seen him as one of the many people who had already run a diagnostic, running yet another diagnostic. Any of the security staff, would just see someone from the government doing something shady for the good of their country. When the diagnostic was complete and the extra commands were embedded, he walked out of the room as casually as if he were paid by the hour. Moving back to the waiting lounges, and taking a seat at a bar table, he sent a message to end the security blackout.


    A few drinks later a lot of familiar faces met up with him there, interrupting him while he worked at compiling the gathered parts. Not only was Sam and Diana there, but Savannah was also with them, practically a giant when next to the two shorter women. Without giving him even the option of refusing, the three of them sat at the table with him and signalled to a waiter for drinks to be brought over. Diana started talking the moment she sat down, seizing all momentum as she forced everyone along at her pace.


    ¡°The mission was complete on my end, but I can''t help but notice your side is lagging behind.¡± A smirk filled her face, one that was both mocking and playful and she continued, ¡°If you want to send poor Sav out there half equipped then you can just say so and I''ll set her armour up so that it breaks apart for you.¡±


    With that remark, Savannah seemed a little worried. Diana hadn''t been her mechanist for all that long, and her personality did leave the possibility that she would actually do that. She trusted her mechanist entirely, but also doubted her in equal measure, mostly in regards to state of mind.


    ¡°I''ve automated the last of the data I need,¡± Jeff reassured her, barely looking up from his laptop and drink, ¡°so you''ll have the last design before the start of the expo.¡±


    Sam was the only one who didn''t know what the three of them were talking about and alternated between them, looking for someone to tell her. In the end Diana gave a laugh and said, ¡°Your partner''s family isn''t the only one unveiling a new generation. If this slacker gets the designs to us on time, the games will be a lot less one sided than the Kaya''s would like.¡±


    Following that, the conversation deviated from work, and they instead started to catch up with each other, avoiding talking about anything work related like an unspoken rule. Though the topic of rig parts did come up, it was spoken of more in terms of gossip than performance, as each of them had little in their lives outside of their work. After a while, Jeff and Savannah''s flight was called and they left Sam and Diana behind. As they boarded the plane, he sent Sam a message.


    ¡°From what I hear, the beach on the west side is a popular place for first timers.¡±

 Chapter 32 - The Seaside Stadium, Part 3

    Chapter 32


    ¡°From what I hear, the beach on the west side is a popular place for first timers.¡±


    Sam wasn''t sure what to make of that. When she pictured beaches, she thought of soft golden sand and cooling off in the water. When she pictured the Antarctic, she thought of ice. Somehow the two just didn''t blend in her mind when she tried to force them to. She thought about asking Diana about what Jeff had meant, but she excused herself soon after the others left, saying that it was time to give her rig another check. Sam still had another hour before she was required to.


    It was mostly just busy work to her, booting it up and running the start-up sequence to make sure that it was real and that the people of the city didn''t have to worry about it suddenly exploding. While she joked about that to herself and other mechanist, she knew that when she was a kid, that was one of her biggest fears about airports; a fear that came about after a media scare campaign caused horror stories about it to circulate through her school. A part of her could still understand it, without her degree she would also be like those people that moved to the other side of the hallway when passing by the hanger that stored her rig. It was almost a kind of insanity to be comfortable working next to a nuclear bomb that was deliberately made to explode if touched the wrong way; a kind of numbness to obvious danger.


    As she passed time at the bar, she went over what she had planned for the week. A day after her arrival the trade show would open. Although it was open, most people just set up their stalls in order to free up space in their workshops, the real show wouldn¡¯t begin until the matches started. While any mechanist could understand a part¡¯s performance by reading its patent information, that was far from enough to secure a sale. Most patents for rig parts tended to be inaccurate. Not outright lies, but with performances tested under lab conditions and with cherry-picked data, and measured with deliberately bad equipment to inflate the margin of error. That was why they needed to wait for the games to start for the sales to begin in force. If a sales-rep could point to a screen and say ¡®this is how well it does¡¯ then the data would be more likely to be believed.


    On Sam¡¯s third day there, the pilots would arrive and the opening ceremony would begin. Unlike the Olympics of old, the Quadrennial Games¡¯ opening ceremony was more downplayed and formal. The games always took place in the same arena, and there were no natives there who wanted to show off their culture. As such there was no competitive drive or cultural significance behind the ceremony, and it was instead treated almost like a business arrangement. The athletes would stand with a representative of their country in rows before a stage and the current head of the Kaya family would formally welcome them to compete. Afterwards, the head Kaya would announce which countries would be granted additional cores over the next four year period, and the number of cores that would be available as prizes. It would normally be a single core, but historically it could be as many as three.


    The day after the ceremony, Sam would be working. She and Sachiko would go to the Kaya family workshop in the morning and retrieve their rig, which would be transported there directly from the plane. It was a little irritating that she would have to work with a rig she knew nothing about, but she was also excited to be working with cutting edge technology.


    When she went to check on the rig, she noticed that the guards tensed up around her. It was a strange reaction from professionals who would have seen several dozen activation sequences over the previous few days. Their apprehension seemed to grow with each keystroke, and it made her wonder if something had gone wrong with one of the previous rigs. If something had happened, then they had evidently brought it under control before the airport became a crater. When Sam finished her check, they all seemed to breathe more easily. It was apparently the right call to get through it faster to lighten their moods. With the check complete she went back to waiting.


    A while past and she eventually boarded her plane and flew further south. The plane¡¯s thick insulation and heating kept it warm, even in the below freezing temperature. From her window she had been able to see the wide, ice-locked country well before they began their landing approach. While decades prior, the landing strip had been a patch of ice coated dirt, it was now a modern airport, complete with a heated umbilical that connected directly from the aircraft to the building. Getting that initial work done had been difficult and expensive, but the global representatives that regularly visited demanded at least that level of opulence.


    It was also necessary that the buildings be heated since the weather was unseasonably cold; even at the relatively northern section that they were in, temperatures still didn¡¯t reach above negative six degrees Celsius on the warmest days. Days, of course, being used in its calendar sense, as the land was caught in the middle of its yearly cycle of nights consuming the entirety of each day. With that in mind, the lights the buildings provided were also a welcome feature.


    After organising someone to deliver her luggage to the room she was staying in, a small suite attached to her workshop, she loaded the rig and its spare parts onto a heavy truck and delivered it to the Kaya¡¯s. Despite its apparent weight, the actual room in the truck was limited, as most of the design seemed to be bulk against the cold and weight to displace snow. That ensured that while the drive was warm, it was not comfortable. The driver and a security guard took the seats in the cab, which left her with making room in with the parts. After they arrived at a dome shaped building, that, if it had been built normally, would have been ten stories tall. It was located not far from the arena and its village. Alicia Kaya¡¯s secretary had several armed guards take the contents of the truck into the building and got the driver to take Sam to her room. She had expected at least some briefing material or user manual, so getting no hints and being shooed off left her feeling left out and annoyed.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    The next effective day she noticed a few of the other mechanist nearby were gathering together and decided to check out what they were up to. She soon found out that Jeff had been serious about the beach being popular and they were all getting ready to take a trip to the nearby west shore. With nothing else to do, since she had originally planned on spending the day looking at the apparently non-existent rig documents, she decided on tagging along with them.


    The beach they headed to was famous, like Jeff said, and as such was prepared to accommodate those who came unprepared. That meant Sam had no problem renting the equipment she needed. The dark black and grey rocks that made up the beach¡¯s surface were brightly lit by a set of portable stadium lights that were steaming as snow hit the heat of their intense light and whose yellow paint seemed like it would be visible even with just star light to go off of.


    The suit she borrowed was made from a thick synthetic material that was apparently developed by the Kaya family company prior to their development of formless particles. The material had the property of generating heat in only one side of it to more efficiently use the energy added, making it well suited for cold water diving equipment. An energy field would have done the job better, but recreational divers preferred it for the experience of actually swimming and scientists preferred it for a lower impact on the environment they were studying.


    As a part of her studies, Sam and the other mechanist had received qualifications with diving equipment, as there was a niche competition style that involved underwater combat, but she had never used it after passing the subject. It took her a while, but she eventually sealed herself into the foamy suit, strapped the heavy tanks and batteries to herself, and made her way across the lumpy stones. There were many people that were quicker than herself, and they had gone head; their shoulder-lights occasionally splitting out from the black coloured ocean like they were signalling for a hero.


    When Sam entered for herself, she was awestruck by what she saw. She had expected to see a wondrous natural environment, with animals adapted to nature performing a show merely through existence. That was not what she found. It was instead a neutrally buoyant disk of metal nearly a hundred meters across. It was divided into three sections, copper for the outer third, silver for the middle and gold for the inner. As she got closer she could see that it was covered in etchings; people¡¯s names. While she recognised none in the copper and silver, there were a few in the gold that she did. Dead pilots and mechanists; it was a memorial wall. When she later asked one of the older mechanists about it, the colours represented the highest division they reached when they died, copper for school and silver for junior. It also seemed that it wasn¡¯t so much a secret spot, as much as a spot that didn¡¯t get spoken of. There was nothing to stop them from talking about it, but doing so would seem crass.


    When she was ready, Sam started to swim back to shore. There was something comforting about the disk; that no matter what happened someone would engrave her name there one day as a tribute. It also gave a new meaning to the platinum disk in the International Body for Rig Science¡¯s main office. She had heard that it was engraved with the name of everyone that became world champion and their mechanist. As she was about to breach the surface, she noticed something moving in the corner of her eye. When she turned to look for it, she couldn¡¯t find anything, but it had looked to her like a slick of oil that swam through the water. By the time she was back on land, she had dismissed it as a fast moving fish or swarm of plankton or the likes.


    A few hours later, she made her way to the trade show. The bustle of people filled the hall as voices bounced from the roof to the floor and blended in a cacophony. There were three groups of people there, each looking distinct from each-other in wild disparity. The first group were the mechanists, whom made up the largest portion. As an occupation that involved long hours and not a lot of sunlight, there was a kind of near uniformity in the unhealthy looks of their skins. That was just about the only uniformity, as age, race and gender didn¡¯t seem to reveal any other pattern.


    The next group were the sales teams and parts reps standing behind stalls and dressed like professionals, with powerful looking suits and hairstyles that anyone could guess were trending, they were next in terms of population. While Sam had experienced the kinds of sales reps that were active in her city, the kind that either knew their parts or were attractive, it was clear from their words and looks that a company wouldn¡¯t have sent them there if they were lacking in either. There were some exceptions to that; Jeff apparently being one of them. He was surprisingly busy, with a small group of people examining his data and asking questions at any given moment. His table seemed to be managed by just Diana and him, and they didn¡¯t look like they could spare even a moment of time.


    The third group were apparently media representatives. Unlike the other group, they could mostly be spotted by the looks of boredom. While there was the occasional reporter who specialised in reporting technology, most of them just shot a five minute segment they could loop then just waited around for something to happen or for celebrity spotting, not that any would have shown up to a day one trade show. Sam did notice that there was a tech reporter eyeing up Jeff like a predator, apparently waiting for any break in the crowd to rush in and ask for an interview. As she continued to look around, she decided to leave a note for Jeff on the table as she walked past.


    ¡°Thanks for the telling me about the beach and look out for that reporter gunning for you¡±

 Chapter 33 - The Seaside Stadium, End Part

    Chapter 33


    ¡°Thanks for the telling me about the beach and look out for that reporter gunning for you¡±


    As Jeff read the note, he was grateful that he noticed it in time. Noticing messages late seemed something of a problem he had, but he had noticed Sam in the crowd and saw her leave the note. He would have liked to have called out to her, but he couldn¡¯t have, since he and Diana were swarmed from the moment people noticed what they were selling. While his parts were famous locally, very few people had successfully replicated the next generation parts. Most mechanists that came up to them recognised that the parts were knockoffs, but most didn¡¯t care since the official parts hadn¡¯t even been announced. That was the basis of his plan; the initial profits.


    The bulk of the money made by the Kaya Company and its corporate partners when they release a new generation of parts were in the first half year, when everyone would be willing to pay anything to get the advantage of the new parts out of fear that others would already have them. After that initial period, other companies are generally able to reverse engineer the designs and make their own versions, but by then it doesn¡¯t matter. So long as the first monopoly exists, they are able to make their investment back and build their profits. However, that wouldn¡¯t happen this time. Jeff was already on the market before they made their reveal, and all of their new parts were already copied. Furthermore, since Jeff had only ever needed to hire mercenary hackers, and not buildings full of engineers and scientists, his production cost was far less than what Kaya¡¯s was. That meant he could sell for far less and still make the same profit. Not that he was after the same profit. He was selling licences to the designs far below market price just to make sure there would be as big a hit against their profits as possible.


    The best part was, so long as no one pinned the actual hacking and sabotage attempts on him, he was legally in the clear over the parts. Each design he sold had its fundamental equation, the basis of its code, which in turn is the basis of its shape, altered just enough to be a legally distinct part. He then made sure that everyone who sold him a part from the bounty list, or their representative, was registered as a designer, and the listed version of their design was his modified version or one they modified themselves. Both he and the hackers paid their tax on the transaction so there was nothing untoward about it on paper. Even if the appearance and function of the parts were the same, those parts of a design couldn''t be registered, only the equation could, and since the equations hadn¡¯t been registered yet, it was legally fine for similar equations to exist. If they wanted to blame anyone, they should blame their security department.


    While the mechanist there could guess where his designs came from, the kinds of people who would show up to the first day of the trade show weren¡¯t the kinds of people who cared. One by one they would examine the parts data and one by one they would ask about the details.


    ¡°Does the multi-form function reduce the performance of the individual components?¡±


    ¡°How does the direction shift of this thruster affect the drag profile?¡±


    ¡°How do you prevent the counter-sonic from causing defence degradation?¡±


    He answered from memory what he had read from the designer¡¯s notes and the leaked reports to the best of his ability and where he didn¡¯t know, he openly admitted that he didn¡¯t. If anyone hadn¡¯t realised what he had done, they would have thought that the parts weren¡¯t sufficiently tested, but at the start of a new generation few parts were.


    The problem came when the few people in the crowd that weren¡¯t interested in the tech started to notice him; for example, a particularly aggressive member of a media company. Dark brown hair, a stern face, sun-bronzed skin and hard eyes; he looked like a man who had reported from a warzone, back when such things were more of an issue and less of an annoyance. He was from a news company that had been attacked by a malfunctioning drone, an attack that had cost a large sum of money beyond the insurance payout and had layoffs to balance the budget, and he had an aversion to technology as a result of that, and other similar malfunctions.


    When Jeff finally had a small break between curious mechanists, the reporter strolled up to him with cameraman in tow and a glint in his eye, and started to interrogate him.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to ask you a few questions, if you don¡¯t mind. It concerns the source of the parts you are selling,¡± He said that with a conversational tone, but one that seemed to demand response. It was the kind of tone that could be mustered only by experienced speakers, one that subtly got under the skin. ¡°There have been allegations that your parts have been illegally acquired, how do you respond to that?¡±


    The reporter had started questioning him immediately after approaching him, making it clear that asking if he was willing to answer was essentially rhetorical, a mere formality he was observing. At the time Jeff had started his lunch, and had bitten into a sandwich as the question came. He calmly lifted a finger to indicate that the reporter should wait, finishing the bite before he would speak. It was a very intentional action, one he did when he saw the reporter approach. The slow chewing gave him time to think, and the repetitive motion of each bite calmed him down, like meditation or a mantra. By the time he was ready to speak, he had fully thought through how he would respond.


    ¡°Listen, this is my only lunch break today, and I really don¡¯t have much time so I¡¯d really appreciate it if you asked those kinds of questions to someone in the company in a management position. As far as I know, all of our parts have been sourced from private designers who followed the normal process.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Before Jeff had started to speak, before he had taken a bite from the sandwich, he had turned on his phone to start recording the conversation. If the reporter edited the footage to make him seem guilty, then he could send it to a rival news company, who would love to report on their rival harassing hapless employees. For that defence to work, Jeff needed to be tired, relatable, and not say anything to incriminate himself. Tired he had in spades, relatable was why he made a point of himself being just another employee being bothered during a lunch break, and he was trying his best not to incriminate himself.


    ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s not like we¡¯re the first company to release similar products at the same time. Just last year, Rossi International and Patterson¡¯s Designs released almost identical rifles in the same week, but everyone knows that was just coincidence.¡±


    The example Jeff chose was a very deliberate one. At the time it had been a piece of major news, with most channels reporting on it as Rossi was sued by Patterson. In the end, the case was dismissed as coincidentally similar. That was how it was reported on; with media attention dying off almost immediately after the judgment was made. The details weren¡¯t so simple, however, with one of the lead designers changing companies mid design. Any mechanist could have told you that it was definitely the same weapon, but it was legally different and the media wasn¡¯t going to give a seminar on rig based legal issues after the public had already lost interest. Thus, by connecting his case to that case, he was setting the situation to sound far more boring than it was. After he gave his answer he hurried to take another bite, reinforcing that he didn¡¯t have much time, and buying him more time when a question was asked.


    ¡°Then you deny any wrong doing? That all of the parts you are selling are your own?¡±


    At that point it became clear that the reporter was someone angry, with a vendetta he was chasing, but not the knowledge needed to navigate the field. He was clearly the outdoors type, not the kind of person who would get under a rig block and understand its workings. He was approaching Jeff like an arms dealer on the street, and that just wouldn¡¯t work. Finishing the bite, Jeff started to talk again. It was clear that the long break between answers was getting to the reporter, and he was losing his temper.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you want to hear, but I already said that private designers sold their designs to us. They¡¯re registered, authenticated and uploaded to the rig society database. If any of them sold us stolen designs, then those designs weren¡¯t in the system when we did the background checks.¡±


    If he wasn¡¯t on camera, Jeff would have smirked at that one. The automated check that the IBRS¡¯s website ran only checked to see if the design was a duplicate of something already uploaded; it didn¡¯t have the processing power to verify the function and form of every design uploaded. That check, however, was how the IBRS ensured that they weren¡¯t liable as witnesses to tricks like his, and as such spent a lot of time reassuring the public that their system worked.


    As the interview continued, the reporter just got more and more frustrated, and Jeff seemed to be more and more intimidated. By the time the reporter got dragged away by the cameraman, it looked like he was going to punch Jeff. While that wouldn¡¯t have been fun, it would have kept negative media off his back for a while.


    After that he and Diana continued to man the stall for the rest of the afternoon, or what amounted to the afternoon in the near-perpetual night. By the time the first day was over they were tired beyond their limit, but still had work to do. The first rounds of the competition would begin and Savannah was competing as a wild-card entry against a low seeded pilot immediately after the opening ceremony. They would be working throughout the night to make sure her rig had been upgraded before she arrived, so she could spend the day getting used to the changes. They would be banking on her natural adaptability to get used to the changes in time; half a day¡¯s practice was really insufficient. Thankfully the parts would give her an advantage there. They had already submitted the parts they were using during the day, with Jeff having to manage the stall while Diana did that, so they just had to assemble the plans.


    Jeff wasn''t employed by Sav, but was still able to access the workshop to assist Diana as he was registered in the trade show. On paper, he was a sponsor supervising the correct installation of the parts being advertised. Him assisting with Diana''s work was why she had any time to help him with the trade show.


    There was one part that was particularly dangerous to their plan; a firmware update. The firmware of a rig core was usually one part that no mechanist would be stupid enough to touch, instead taking the core to a Kaya licenced lab whenever an update was required. That wouldn¡¯t be possible in that instance, since the update was one of the things that were transmitted for Sachiko¡¯s rig. The core¡¯s anti-tampering trigger was entirely linked to the firmware, so if there was anything even slightly out of place, it would detonate. If there was any signs what so ever of signal break or data corruption, they would scrap their plan and not do the update, but as far as they could tell, the data should have been clean.


    Several hours of work later, and a workshop not being reduced to glass, they were finally finished. Too exhausted to do anything else, they collapsed together on a nearby couch and slept there until Sav arrived. Sav had spent the previous two days in a simulation program to help her get used to the changes faster. Simulations were rarely any help when compared to actually piloting, but they were better than nothing.


    When she walked into the workshop and saw the two of them sleeping there, she waited for them to wake up, knowing that they would be more use to her if they were even a little more rested. While she waited, she looked through the design¡¯s estimated data and compared it to the data that was applied to the simulator. In most regards it was about 10% higher than what she had practiced with, higher by leagues when compared with a previous generation model.


    Before long Jeff and Diana woke up and stumbled to their feet, too stiff and uncomfortable to find sleeping together awkward. Noticing the time, they completely woke up; deadlines being a jolt of energy stronger than any coffee. Despite the clear difference in fitness between the pair and Sav, they were pulling ahead of her while pushing the cube on a trolley. They were desperate and running short of time. When they got to the testing arena and the new rig unfolded, it seemed far more impressive than what the designs had indicated, as if it had some unmentionable quality to it that was only discernible by being in its presence. Somehow, Jeff actually felt a sense of pride from getting it complete in time, even if the parts weren¡¯t his own creation. He took a photo with his phone and set it to Sam with a caption.


    ¡°The Rig that Brought Down an Empire¡±

 Chapter 34 – The Unknown Enemy Emerges, Part 1

    Chapter 34


    ¡°The Rig that Brought Down an Empire¡±


    Looking over the photo, Sam thought it was certainly a nice looking rig, though she couldn¡¯t really tell if it was worth that kind of grand title from just a still image. None the less, she still spent twenty minutes looking it over, seeing if she could discern anything from it; though that was mostly because she was bored at the time. The opening ceremony was every bit as dry and formal as she thought it would be, and she idly looked through her phone just to get through it. That was when she noticed the message, and decided to make that her distraction.


    She knew that Jeff had a preference for armour based designs, drawing inspiration from knights and soldiers, but it wasn¡¯t entirely clear why he had put so much focus on the look, rather than the function. The rig looked mostly like a set of SWAT armour, complete with what appeared to be fabric clothes. The only real difference between that and the rig was that the rig¡¯s joints were reinforced, the armour sections were connected, and thrusters placed along key locations. The rig¡¯s wings were even attached to what appeared to be a fabric backpack, and made to look like equipment of some kind. If Jeff were to tell her that it could survive a barrage from a heavy Gatling, she would have to tell him he¡¯s crazy.


    What made it even stranger was the apparent lack of offensive power. She could understand a lack of armour if it was in service of more speed and power, but the rig didn¡¯t seem to have any of those. Attached to the vest section were an assortment of small weapons, such as pistols, grenades and knives. None of those would be particularly useful in a match. Knives were worthless against armour, as were most pistols, and almost no rigs were slow enough to get caught by a grenade. It wasn¡¯t until Savannah¡¯s match that Sam understood just how much she was underestimating the new generation parts.


    When the ceremony was over and the first match was soon to begin, Sam started to read through the part data she had collected from Jeff¡¯s stall. From what she was reading, she understood why it was an entirely new generation and not just a new line of parts. It was a huge change in the fundamental structure behind the rigs. The first generation of rigs, the one that Sam had seen on display in the airport, consisted mostly of physical parts, with formless particles acting as a coat and joints, as well as some of the machinery and circulation. Every generation after that reduced the number of parts by increasing the complexity of what the formless particles could do. That trend continued and the current system only had very few simple parts, and those were only where it was more cost effective, needed ridiculous durability, or where extremely high currents of electricity would pass.


    The next generation was different, however, as the foundational equations had been altered. It was no longer necessary for there to be any parts, and the formless particles could form the entire rig. Not only that, they could now form non-fixed patterns and high energy routes. Sam was so enthralled by what she was reading that she hadn¡¯t noticed the match had started. Large energy systems, such as energy weapons, could be used by sacrificing some formless particles and letting a supply of excess blank particles replace the ones that were burnt out. During the break between rounds, the blanks could be refilled. That wasn¡¯t the only benefit of that new system; it would also allow the rig to regenerate damage or even burn off some of the blanks for extra energy. It added entirely new strategies and fighting methods to the sport.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    As Sam looked up at the fight, she saw for herself the greatest advantage the new generation had. Formless particles had flowed from what had looked like a backpack and coated Savannah¡¯s forearm and hand, taking the shape of a rifle. The particles shaped like grenades then formed into a box of ammunition that used the explosive charge of the grenades as the propelling force. The transformation happened in moments and her opponent hadn¡¯t expected it. As such Savannah was able to make three quick shots to take out several of her opponent¡¯s thrusters, slowing that rig¡¯s speed.


    Savannah¡¯s boots and leg armour then reshaped into extra thrusters, sending her flying towards her opponent at almost twice her previous speed. As she arrived at her surprised opponent, the rifle¡¯s barrel completely reshaped, forming a sword with a burning plasma blade. With three quick and flowing slices, the rig had been dealt enough damage to deconstruct back into its cube shape and the round was over. Without missing a beat, Savannah returned to her bunker, where Diana was waiting to refill the rig with blank formless particles. A few minutes passed and her opponent was unable to make it back into the arena. Savannah had won in one round with an overwhelming victory.


    Versatility


    The queen of the new generation was adapting mid fight. If every part was actually an equation with a few forms, then every rig could start the match as one thing and end that same round entirely differently. She could see in the data that changing forms used more energy and time, but if those were well managed then it didn¡¯t matter. She could even understand why Jeff and Diana had made the rig so light, it was so they could store the weight they weren¡¯t using as blank particles. If those could be used for parts or power, and that gave Savannah the room she needed to adapt to the situation.


    This generation also put the Kaya and Campbell use of the pit method in a new context. It wasn¡¯t that Sarah and Satou Campbell were using a strange method; it was that they were preparing the foundation for the next generation. The parts that they needed were weak jointed compared with the parts of that generation, but the next generation didn¡¯t need joints. It was entirely possible that Alicia Kaya had Sarah use that method in order to gather data.


    Sam rushed back to her workshop to continue reading through the information she had while waiting for Sachiko¡¯s rig to be delivered. If Jeff¡¯s cheap knock offs were that good, how powerful must the upgrades made in the Kaya companies¡¯ labs be? Several hours later, at a time that the clock said was early in the morning but was indistinguishable from the other hours of the day, the rig arrived; Sachiko and a maintenance manual with it. It was lucky that Sam didn¡¯t sleep; otherwise reading through the entire book in time for Sachiko¡¯s match wouldn¡¯t have been healthy. In order to promote the new rigs, both Sachiko and Sarah would be competing as representatives of the Kaya family. They almost never used their right to have a representative, saving it only when they needed to advertise.


    As Sam deployed the rig and looked through its programming, she was confused by what she saw. Almost none of Sachiko¡¯s style was implemented into the design. Sachiko liked bright and vibrant colours, and loved having her rig in a fiery orange; yet the rig was a soft and demure white. Sachiko loved the sound and sensation of explosives, the steady heartbeat thump of a Gatling; yet the rig was equipped with an elegant sword and a precisely aligned energy rifle. Sachiko wanted a war-machine, yet the design was like a princess. The pair could only look at the machine with a kind of resigned loathing. The event was for the media and what she wanted didn¡¯t matter in the slightest. Sam took a photo of the rig, captioned it and sent it to Jeff.


    ¡°The State of the Empire¡±

 Chapter 35 – The Unknown Enemy Emerges, Part 2

    Chapter 35


    ¡°The State of the Empire¡±


    Seeing the angel-winged dress that was apparently Sachiko¡¯s rig, Jeff had mixed emotions. On one hand, he felt a little sorry for Sachiko, he had admired her guts and fighting spirit when she chose to have the particle canisters placed in her prosthetic and it wasn¡¯t a pleasant experience to see that drive being ignored. For his plan, however, it was a good turn of events. It was clear that the rig had been designed by a marketing company more than a mechanist, and that would give Sav an advantage when they fought. While they didn¡¯t need to win in order to undercut the competition, doing so would definitely help.


    Putting those concerns aside he made his way to the workshop. Sav completely crushed her opponents in the first two rounds in the previous day, but the quick turn-over between matches was bad for their preparations. As such, Jeff would help Diana out in the mornings and evenings before heading back to work at the trade show stall. When he arrived, Diana had already started the work and Sav was sitting by a computer watching the replay, taking notes on her performance the previous day.


    There was a total of sixty-five contestants in the competition, representing most of the world¡¯s countries. That meant a total of six rounds that needed to be fought, two of which happened on the first day. As the Kaya representative, Sachiko had received a bye for the first two rounds; mostly to bring the numbers into a tidier progression. On each of the remaining days they would only have a single match to each day, but the whole of the arena would be used, instead of sectioning it off so that multiple fights could proceed at once. That meant they would effectively have four times the moving room that they would normally have. That would give an advantage to fast rigs and long ranged attackers. In previous years, he had seen tactics that limit space get used far more often than they normally would; things like making walls, nets or strong magnetic fields.


    With the adaptability of the new models, the chances of one of those traps being used increased, but, since Kaya¡¯s rig was the only other new one out there, that was more of a benefit than a detriment. However, the costs of doing something like that had to be weighed against the benefits, as deploying a net would consume a significant amount of mass.


    One of the most time-consuming parts of the new model was looking for dead formless particles. Since the particles were worn out a lot faster in the new model, and any problems with them could cause cascading errors without solid parts as a foundation, double checking their consistency was now something that needed to be done more often. Each morning they would run a test deployment of each of the individual sections and measure the weight against the calculated ideal; if any section¡¯s weight was off, or the shape wrong, then the particles in the section and its surroundings would be removed and replaced. After the replacement was done, the reintegration process would need to be run, and the harmonics verified. Given that needed to be run, it would have been far quicker to just replace all of the formless particles after use, but doing that would rack up expenses far too quickly. That problem was increased significantly when large sections of the mass was entirely separated from the rig, either in the form of weapons or damage, and new mass had to be added to replace the lost particles.


    The only people who could consider replacing the entire particle supply would be large companies with access to a particle grower, so their pilots would likely have an advantage in the near future. Not willing to waste the particles that were removed, Jeff collected them up and used the stand-by mode core to shape them into consumable items, like bullets, explosives and energy cells; things that could function even with some faulty particles. He could only marvel at the speed and complexity of that shapes made with every use, thinking that if the cost were to decrease and the secret behind the cores revealed, it would be possible to build an entire society around the formless particles.


    When their morning work was done and Diana and Sav left to go practise, Jeff left also, headed towards the stall and the new customers. With the previous day¡¯s matches now watched and aired, everyone could see the performance of the new designs for themselves. Those who couldn¡¯t understand from just the raw data and those who were sceptical of the validity now had the proof they needed to invest. While the previous days were busy, he knew that it would only get worse as the matches progressed. By the time Sav¡¯s match started, he had already sold out of hard drives with the complete schematics, and had to wait for more to be filled as he watched the match.


    Her opponent was equipped head to toe in expensive parts; a speed type with small thrusters on ball joints throughout the rig. Each of those thrusters was set up to be able to aid manoeuvring, but could also function as a small scale plasma weapon. To control that number of independently moving thrusters with any kind of success would require a ridiculously high DC value, but the pilot was bred for that very purpose. Her home country had selected its highest DC individuals and had them have political marriages, as well as endorsed affairs, for several generations just to bring about that result. It was likely that when the pilot retired she would be convinced to have several children of her own, just to continue the tradition.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    The rig was coloured in a sunshine yellow, and its wings were shaped in an ¡®x¡¯ shape, with large thrusters at each point. The overall effect reminded him of dragonfly wings, despite the lack of actual resemblance. Less a structural resemblance an more of a motif. Looking through her records, it seemed that she fought using hit and run tactics, flying in close, avoiding hits, burning her target then taking some distance. With Sav¡¯s previous rig, she would have been very difficult to fight, especially in the large arena, but the new rig¡¯s adaption would likely be more than enough to lock down the match.


    Any time Sav¡¯s opponent took distance, Sav would shoot towards her with clouds of gaseous formless particles that consumed themselves in a cloud of electricity that was pulled towards any rig that got too close. If a rig was inside of the cloud, then the reaction between the rig and the cloud would centre the storm¡¯s effect on the rig, making it all the more powerful. While similar metallic cloud weapons had existed before, the version that Sav was using was capable of being shot from a conventional rig rifle at normal bullet speeds and with greater electric charge; the benefits of the research done by a company that the Kaya group had provided with early access to the development program. Hundreds of man hours had gone into that bullet¡¯s functionality and as such it had taken days to fully decode, one of the more difficult jobs Jeff had done.


    When Sav¡¯s opponent tried to shrink the distance and use her high mobility to orbit Sav¡¯s back, Sav¡¯s rifle reformed into a conical blade, like a long spearhead without the shaft, that was completely coated in thrashing, twisting and shifting blades and crushers. Even if the weapon didn¡¯t pierce, just rubbing against it shredded the rig armour. Oddly enough, that design wasn¡¯t one that Jeff had taken from Kaya. An acquaintance of his that had gone into the mining industry had sold him the designs for the latest drills and Jeff adapted that into the available options after reading the performance data.


    Sure enough, the match ended with an overwhelming victory and the sales for that afternoon once again spiked. That set the pattern for Sav¡¯s next fight and she soon found herself in the fifth round, the semi-finals. Much like Sav, Sachiko had likewise made quick work of her opponents and was also in the fifth round. If the event organisers had foreseen Jeff¡¯s plan, they might have changed the seeding so that they met in the finals, but instead the two would clash in the semis. It was a match that would determine just how successful his plan would be. He had already undermined the market value of Kaya¡¯s company with the success of the designs, but if the copy defeated the original then he could secure most of the market for the first part of the new generation. Once more third-party companies gained legitimate access the distribution would normalise, but until then he could force Kaya to take a heavy loss.


    As Sachiko and Sav took to the centre stadium, the crowds let out a triumphant roar, expectations were at their highest and the sound could even be faintly heard through the barrier that kept the crowd safe from stray shots. Sachiko¡¯s pure white, wedding dress like rig, that hugged tight against her body and had its appearance augmented by delicate angel wings, floated delicately at one side of the field. Sav¡¯s bulky, gun metal grey rig, whose layout was like an amalgamation of ice-hockey player and elite police riot protection, stood on the grass at the other end. Almost in defiance of the outside ice, the centre stadium was covered in real natural grass. To prevent that from the inevitable damage that comes from rig combat, the protective shield not only covered the crowd and sky, but also ran along the ground. It was far from practical, but it was the kind of prestigious use of power that made the Quadrennial Games so influential.


    From the opening moment of the match, it was clear that Sav had the advantage. Sachiko¡¯s rig had easily outperformed her previous matchups, but against Sav¡¯s rig, a rig using the same technology, it was evident how much the designers had sacrificed performance for the sake of ascetics.


    The obvious differences, the kinds of things that audiences noticed, were in the speed and variety of attacks that Sav lashed out with. Her gun would never be the same type for more than a few shots before changing into something different, the types of ammunition and the direction of attack was never consistent either. Before Sachiko could adapt to anything, Sav would change it to something else entirely. That was especially the case for the very structure of the rig. One moment her shoulder-plates were thrusters and the next, just before an attack would hit, they would shift into a defensive plate structure. Her legs would go from movement, to weapon, to defence and back to movement again all fluidly matching the motions of Sav¡¯s body.


    The mechanists in the audience would have noticed quickly why there was such a glaring difference in the performance of the two rigs; mass distribution. Sachiko¡¯s mass of formless particles was predominantly in her wings. Any time somewhere needed to access that supply, it would need to either move from the wings or cannibalise whatever was nearby and have whatever was consumed do the same until the chain reached the wings. Either way was inefficient, either costing time or processing power. Sav¡¯s rig was different, its mass had been spread out from the get go, and the changes were linked to specific areas that only needed new particles when replacing damaged systems or generating power. Even had the pilots been equal, the purposeful way that Sav¡¯s rig utilised the adaptability ensured her domination.


    With the end of the first round it was clear who was leading. Jeff knew better than believing that Sam would have let that rig compete seriously. It was completely against his best interests, but he let out a sigh and sent her a message.


    ¡°You¡¯re Sachiko¡¯s mechanist; boot them out.¡±

 Chapter 36 – The Unknown Enemy Emerges, Part 3

    Chapter 36


    ¡°You¡¯re Sachiko¡¯s mechanist; boot them out.¡±


    When Sam read that, she felt a somewhat guilty about what she was doing. As Sachiko docked her fig and started refuelling with formless particles that had been pre-programed to replace the lost mass, something achievable only at great expense with several entire batches being held in a near active state and with careful selection of the replacement parts, Sam sat at the back of the room basically just watching the process and staying out of the way.


    In the third round of the games, the first that Sachiko had competed in, Sam had been taken by surprise by the amount of changes and new devices that had been dumped into her workshop; most of which she hadn¡¯t heard of, let alone knew how to use. As such she was sent a support group by the Kaya Company that included several technicians, mechanist and a stylist. It seemed that they had been thrown together due to their individual skills and had very little interest in listening to each other. Just about the only thing they agreed on was that Sam was too inexperienced for her opinions to matter. By the start of the second match, Sam had finished learning what she needed to, but the pecking order had already been established. Through force of personality the stylist had gained dominance, insisting that their job was to sell products and products sold with appearance over numbers. While no one else really agreed with that, they were convinced that the genuine parts they had worked on were superior to anything else out there; especially cheap knock-offs.


    They were right that the difference was enough to beat older generations, but they were fundamentally wrong about what Jeff was doing. They could only see his products as imitations, but he was making the market associate his products as the original. After all, the masses would likewise think as they did, that the original wouldn¡¯t lose to an imitation. It didn¡¯t need to be true, he just needed to get people to feel like it was true. Everyone who saw the matches could see that Sachiko and Savannah were using something new, and that the new thing was the same new thing. Anyone who looked into it would find that both sides claimed that their products were original. If all things are equal then the victor must be right.


    Looking about the workspace, Sam noticed the mood was strained. The other workers made passing derisive glances towards Sachiko. It was as if they thought she was to blame for the bad performance in the first round of the match.


    Seeing them pin the blame on Sachiko made Sam feel guiltier. The technicians would go on with their lives without anything changing no matter the result. It was Sachiko whose career was on the line. If the product launch failed because of Sachiko¡¯s piloting, then she would be forced to retire and take up a position at her family company. While that would be a dream job for many people, Sam knew that Sachiko loved flying too much to survive that with her personality intact.


    Reading over Jeff¡¯s message again, something snapped in her. Guilt wasn¡¯t productive. She had never seen Jeff work throughout the night on guilt. It was anger that he fuelled himself with, hatred and discontent had kept him working and moving throughout long nights back at the school. Sam channelled that. She hated the way that the support team pushed her side. She hated the way that they blamed her friend. She hated herself for letting them.


    Standing up and rushing over to the control panel, she pushed aside on of the mechanist and started making changes to the forms list of Sachiko¡¯s rig. While the others there started to complain, she ignored them and just shouted at them while working.


    ¡°Shut up, the lot of you. I have two minutes to fix your blunders and I don¡¯t give a shit what you think. I¡¯m the lead mechanist here and if you don¡¯t like it then shove off.¡±


    She flashed Sachiko a reassuring smile and Sachiko nodded back at her while beaming. Two minutes later, Sachiko¡¯s rig departed the room and took to the field once more. Sam hadn¡¯t had much time so large changes weren¡¯t possible. Instead she just patched over the exiting code and made slight modifications to some of the values. It would almost certainly cause the formless particles to burn out faster and the feedback would be painful to Sachiko, but she trusted that her friend could handle that.


    When Sachiko landed in her starting position, she activated Sam¡¯s present. Immediately her wings shrunk down to stumps with basic thrusters and the mass shifted across her form. Hydraulic struts braced her legs over the dress, bracing her arms and legs while a backwards strut formed at her ankles to spread forces at her feet. Her elegant sword seemed to melt as it retreated up her arm to latch onto her shoulder, taking the form of a micro-rocket launcher, only twice the size of her head. Her other hand was were the bulk of her rig¡¯s mass went. The slender rifle split and grew as more and more was added, turning black with the added strength required by the new form. It was a Gatling gun, one large enough that she needed both hands to hold it, even with the strength of a rig. Sam hadn¡¯t had time to entirely remake Sachiko¡¯s rig, but she could give her back the weapons she liked.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    Not getting distracted by the fight, though still cheering her on, Sam set to work finishing her work so that it could be inputted the moment the second break began. She had confidence that Sachiko would be able to make it through the round, win it even. The Semi-Finals and Finals followed a best of five or knockout system. The winner by points of at least three rounds or the winner by causing to much damage so the system can¡¯t reboot in time for the next round.


    While she was working Sam could hear repeating bangs and thuds as explosives burst and a near constant sound from the rotating rifle. She was tempted to look up, but knew that the moment she did she would get swept away by what was happening and the work wouldn¡¯t get finished. Instead she got one of the support staff to monitor the damage and send through rough maintenance reports so she would be able to prep the formless particles and speed up their integration with approximated code.


    Sure enough, Sachiko made it through the round. She docked her rig and slumped forward, exhaustion, both physical and mental, clear on her face. Despite that, she seemed to be shaking with excitement with a grin spread across her face. It was the kind of high level play that she had always wanted to experience and she was finally able to let loose with her preferred style, not just what was the best looking.


    With the coding work done in advance, Sam was able to just let the computers do their job and spent the downtime caring for Sachiko instead. With the shoddy patch work of the last round, she was mentally drained just keeping up with the system and a headache was cracking open her skull. Sam got her to lay down with some medicine and water, letting her calm down with every second available. While she was laying there with her black eye¡¯s closed, Sachiko was like a work of art. But that barely held Sam¡¯s attention. Instead she was focused on Sachiko¡¯s prosthetic arm. Sam was always aware of it, in one sense, as she had to adjust the rig¡¯s code to balance for it, but it still mostly slipped her mind. With it, she had a new plan for the following round. The moment the Rig was finished rebooting and Sachiko was once again in place, Sam got to work setting up her plan. The score was two-nil, but Sam had an idea on how to turn things around.


    With more leeway, Sam was able to occasionally glance up as she worked. Sachiko¡¯s rig was now substantially changed compared with the previous rounds. The Gatling was once against small enough that it could be used with a single arm, a trade made to reinforce the changes she had made before. While the dress was still there, Sachiko¡¯s also had her arms, legs and back fully encased. Like that Sam had enough foundation to effectively strengthen Sachiko¡¯s body, allowing for much more drastic force dispersals and in turn more intensive movements. While her gun was smaller, its rate of fire was much higher and the reinforced arms were needed to keep recoil under control while the still being freely aimed.


    Savannah had avoided most of Sachiko¡¯s attacks in the previous rounds, but now had used defence over evasion more often than not, only really going all out on movement when a missile was launched.


    There was actually a decent chance that they would win the round, or at least get a draw. Using that to spur her on, Sam knuckled down and focused on her work. Her plan was to use the extra formless particles in Sachiko¡¯s arm to power a surprise beam attack. She would keep one of the missile chambers as is, but the rest of the structure would be changed into an energy weapon. When Savannah got to close, Sachiko would trigger the barrel to reshape and convert all of the particles in her arm into power and the sudden burst would be enough to take out Savannah¡¯s rig. That level of damage would definitely be enough to cause a knock out.


    With her program finalised she looked up again to see how the match would go. Sachiko only needed a draw for them to take the next round.


    Sam¡¯s eyes widened as she watched the blow land. Sachiko was shooting a hologram while the real Savannah lanced her from the side. Sam shuddered for a moment and dived towards the parts list submitted by Diana. She hadn¡¯t paid much attention to the submission after the first round. The document mostly just contained the quantity of formless particles being used and a couple other essential components, things that are automatically on every form. There wasn¡¯t much point in it when everything being used was generated mid match. With her being sidelined by the support team, there was even less reason to read it. In front of her eyes was an obvious mistake. It was something she had seen before, the hologram projector that Bartholomew, The Second Black Spider, had used.


    The match was over. Three wins for Savannah. Sam¡¯s clever plan and Sachiko¡¯s comeback victory would never happen. Tears started to flow, dropping like stones onto the display.


    When Sachiko came back inside, she ran over and embraced Sam.


    ¡°I don¡¯t blame you. It¡¯s not your fault. Thanks to you I was able to fight the way I wanted.¡±

 Chapter 37 – The Unknown Enemy Emerges, Part 4

    Chapter 37


    ¡°Thanks to you I was able to fight the way I wanted.¡±


    That was the headline an article that Jeff read the day after the match. It was the day of the finals and Jeff was preparing for it by reading various sports website to get a feel for how the public was taking the match. The narrative that the sites were feeding their readers, anyway. The article was one that interviewed Sachiko¡¯s pit crew and was scathing. ¡®A traitor to those who believed in her who chose to throw away the advice of professionals to play around¡¯ and ¡®An amateur who likewise teamed up with an amateur to disappoint;¡¯ statements like that filled the whole text. The chose some poignant quotes, and it was clear that Sam¡¯s co-workers were doing a very good job at blame-shifting.


    From the economic perspective, the Kaya Company was spinning the story rather than refuting it or defending Sachiko and Sam. The parts clearly were superior, after all, they were able to get to the semi-finals despite being piloted by a reckless child and supported by an inexperienced mechanist who couldn¡¯t work in a team. Despite the adverse circumstances, the parts still held up. Jeff had always known that Alicia wouldn¡¯t hesitate to abandon her daughter, but it was chilling to see that even Erin Kaya would abandon her granddaughter. After all, Erin was the acting chairman; there was no way that official statements on behalf of the company would have been made without her authorisation.


    What annoyed him most was that it was working. Despite the victory, sales growth was slowing and the Kaya line was speeding up. The disruption he was causing was definitely enough to cause the company harm, but there was still a chance for their recovery, especially if they had some new designs that were still in the concept stage and weren¡¯t even stored digitally.


    To make sure that everyone knew that Sav¡¯s victory wasn¡¯t due to the incompetence of her opponent, she needed to win the Games outright. That meant that Sav would need to win against the world¡¯s rank one pilot, Wu Xiaoxuan.


    Xiaoxuan was a speed type specialist whose rifle accuracy was good enough that online rumours said she could see the future. Her win to loss ratio was so high that countries wouldn¡¯t take bets with a ten to one return on the ante. In her early career, she was able to win the absorption of an entire country. The country was small, but it was still an accomplishment that even few that held the title of ¡®champion of the world¡¯ had managed. She was approaching her thirties, near retirement, but she was still stunning to look at. With black hair and eyes and skin that had seen every day¡¯s sunlight, she didn¡¯t just draw attention with her physical body. If seem objectively, she would be average in appearance, strong and fit but not particularly special. The atmosphere around her however drew anyone who saw her in. Confidence and strength, a kind of reassurance that cults would be built on. When Jeff saw her, he immediately doubted that Sav could win, even knowing the difference in their rigs.


    That morning, while he and Diana went through her parts list he started to feel worse about Sav¡¯s chances. One of the ways that Xiaoxuan had done to stay on top was to always stay ahead of the trends. The rig she submitted was decked out with the latest Kaya designs. In other words, her rig was entirely formless particles also.


    In the previous rounds, her rig had definitely been solid. The matches he had seen included the rare event of Xiaoxuan taking damage, and the parts that fell off hadn¡¯t dissolved. Plus, he had one of the mechanist that was involved with the match send him the parts list she had used.


    Sav might have stood a chance with a tech level handicap, but going up against the world¡¯s best on equal terms seemed just about impossible. That was probably the point. While losing against the worlds best probably wouldn¡¯t negatively affect the brand, wining against them out have. To stop that, one of the Kayas gave Xiaoxuan early access to the tech; it was good damage control.


    Since a fair fight was entirely unwinnable, Jeff had spent the morning working out alternatives while Diana ensured that Sav was as ready as she could be. The first thing he needed to do was make setting up annoyances for the other team¡¯s mechanist. They were working for the word¡¯s best, and had survived numerous assassination attempts. As such, Jeff didn¡¯t try to take them out, only make their jobs harder. Using some limited access to the Kaya Company system that he still had, he sent out some official sounding messages from human resources. That department had been entirely replaced by a machine since its earliest days, so utilising premade messages would still be believed. Sam¡¯s previous team was re-tasked with aiding Xiaoxuan with the new tech. Too many cooks in the kitchen and too little space in the lab. With the new maintenance tools in the workspace, the room to move would have already shrunk; a problem made worse by having half a dozen more unneeded people.


    His next move was to weaken her rig.


    As the worlds best, just about everything in her life had been recorded somewhere, and where there is data there¡¯s someone selling it. After paying far more than he should have, he managed to buy a recording of Xiaoxuan¡¯s resonances. They were somewhat outdated, being a copy that someone had taken from her piloting school, but they would be close enough for what he had in mind.


    Jeff took out a batch of formless particles and started to boot them up, following the normal process for adding them to a rig. He formed a second set into a hollow bullet that magnetically trapped the previous batch in a vacuum within the bullet, ensuring that they didn¡¯t make contact. He then repeated the process until a full box of thirty had been made. As the entire structure was made from formless particles, they wouldn¡¯t be noted on the parts list, only listed as particle mass.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    That afternoon, the final match began. The stadium was filled to capacity and the event streamed live from several official cameras, as well as the phones on a small portion of the crowd. With so many eyes on the field, illegal tampering in the event itself would be just about impossible to get away with, especially considering a number of streamers that streamed outside of the human light spectrum and with sonar imaging. They were trends at the time the tech became commercially available, but had become mostly just for hipsters and data analysts.


    That being the case, what Jeff did wasn¡¯t cheating so much as employing the difference in understanding inherent to new technology. That was to say, he had spent more time understanding the new rig technology than anyone outside of the development labs and had certainly read more designs than most of the individual developers. He knew the tech just about better than anyone. Certainly, he knew it better that a group of mechanist that had the gear for less than a day. Even Sam, someone who never had to sleep, spent more than a day getting to know everything. If they delegated learning everything then they would just trip over each other and waste time explaining what everyone was doing; just about the perfect environment to miss something too small to see and the surface program would say is a positive.


    Round one of the match was a loss, Xiaoxuan¡¯s rig, a red coloured and stripped back design with flat angles and sharp lines, narrowly avoided Sav¡¯s shots while landing blow after blow. The rig was distinct from the orbiting rings that Xiaoxuan had used since her earliest days. They were a pare of rings that hula-hooped around her body, always locking in place as they moved to ensure a solid contact with the rig¡¯s frame. Instead of being attached to the rig¡¯s back, four main thrusters were attached to each ring and could be independently directed. The result was an unpredictable movement pattern that could move equally well in any direction at any time. To further utilise the rings, Xiaoxuan¡¯s rifle rested on the rings when she shot to give extra stability and recoil control. With delicate control, the rings could be as stable to shoot from as being braced against the ground.


    Diana had planed for the hits, shaping the armour rather than trying to avoid the shots, but there was still lots to do during the downtime. Without a ready supply of active formless particles to work with, Diana and Jeff had to put in some blank particles and give them a rough patchwork code. They would basically start in an inert state, not able to change forms or be consumed, and slowly copy the code of the surrounding particles. Without the expensive tools to keep store formless particles in a near-active state without a core attached, that was the best they could do.


    The second round was noticeably different to the first. The longer the round progressed, the fewer shots connected. While Sav was still not hitting, neither was Xiaoxuan by the end of it. The round was still Xiaoxuan¡¯s victory, but it was clear that something was wrong. Then came the turning point; the third round. From the very start, whatever was going wrong with Xiaoxuan¡¯s rig was evident to even the most inexperienced of spectators. Some of Xiaoxuan¡¯s shots were off by metres rather than centimetres, as if she were shooting at a target seconds in the past.


    It was Jeff¡¯s bullets in action. While they hadn¡¯t hit, they were never required to. Each time they were fired, they would leave a trail of formless particles in their wake; the ones that Jeff had encoded with Xiaoxuan¡¯s resonant frequencies. Not all the frequencies that she used, any that Sav also used were left out, but the majority of them. When each of the bullets had been spent, there was a thin supply of particles throughout the arena¡¯s air. The particle density was too low to be reasonably detectable amongst the damage debris and exhaust, but still high enough to achieve what he wanted.


    Although the particles weren¡¯t active, they were functional. When they came in contact with a rig, the rig would assume that they were a part of it, especially if that contact was made mid transformation. Once the particles were inside the rig, they would fill the frequency they were programmed to with what was essentially white-noise. While the particles effected both rigs equally, the frequencies that were being filled weren¡¯t used by Sav. While the individual effect of the particles was very limited, almost non-existent, it would grow as time passed. As more and more frequencies were filled, the more data would have to travel down other channels. When those also started to fill, the rig would start to have latency issues and more data starts to get funnelled down fewer routes. In the old generation, latency issues like that would be resolved by replacing the parts or particles that were the cause. When the entire rig was particles, that would only be accomplished if the entire mass was replaced. Not knowing what was the cause, the mechanist replaced the affected area and the problem cascaded. The new formless particles took in code from their surroundings, including the white-noise that was previously too small to have any effect. With the entire replacement area now producing white noise, the latency grows from a microsecond issue to a full second issue.


    Xiaoxuan¡¯s radar, air sensors, movement predictors and other support software started to feed her information too slowly and suddenly only her eyes could be trusted. The flight and control software gained priority by the system, allowing her to move as she always did, but the secondary systems were shunted because of that. The more complex her movements were, the further down the line her support data went. By the end of the second round, she was effectively only in control of her movement and all other systems were frozen. In order to fix the issue, her team would have to understand what the problem was and have the particles on had to replace the whole rig.


    He had no doubt that what he had done would be an illegal tactic once the technology became the norm, but unknown issues can¡¯t be illegal ones. That was a principle that one of the early competitions had set.


    With the third round, Xiaoxuan was manually aiming and her movements were simplified. Sav took advantage of that and dashed in. Without complex manoeuvres, Sav was able to corner her opponent and go for melee strikes. Sav utilised her hand-to-hand training to full effect, transforming her arms and legs into drills and bludgeons just before every impact. Before the match¡¯s time ran out, Xiaoxuan¡¯s rig collapsed into its core and she fell to the shield covered grass bellow.


    A handful of minutes later the match was called; victory by knockout.


    Smiling at the screen, both for Sav¡¯s performance and the success of his plan, he pulled out his phone and read a message from Sam


    ¡°Distraction was good; can confirm search results.¡±

 Chapter 38 – The Unknown Enemy Emerges, Part 5

    Chapter 38


    ¡°Distraction was good; can confirm search results.¡±


    Sam sent that message while drying off after a warm shower and waited for water to boil for the tea she was making. She was chilled to the bone even after a hot shower and wanted the tea and a blanket. When Jeff had sent her the next stage of his plan, she was suspicious, but seeing for herself entirely convinced her. The rumours hadn¡¯t seemed credible at the time, but when she saw Erin Kaya throw Sachiko to the wolves they started to seem far more likely. Jeff was always bitter towards the Kayas, so she had been willing to believe that him trusting the rumours was just a part of his fixation, but she went along with his plan with the slight hope that she could get back at someone who hurt her friend.


    Following the schedule, when the morning of the match came, she waited outside her door in the dark as a snow-bike driven by a stranger pulled up. It was the quietest one she had seen since hitting the Antarctic and it was driven without any lights. Even the emergency lights had been stripped off. As she got on and the driver wordlessly started driving, she noticed that the treads were shaped so that they pushed snow back into their tracks as they went, burying their tracks in snow in a quarter of the time it would naturally take. An experienced tracker would be able to follow them, but a casual observer would probably not even notice they had been there.


    Midway through the trip they pulled up alongside another bike, a larger one with a trailer filled with equipment and the vehicles were swapped. Sam rode in the trailer as it had more space and, while she was there, double-checked the equipment.


    They eventually pulled up at a familiar stony beach as her driver, dressed in too much thermal gear to have any distinguishing features visible, called out to her in a grouchy voice.


    ¡°Tell Jeff I¡¯m done after this. Getting the gear here costed as much as I owed him and those cloak and dagger types seriously had me worried.¡±


    After unhooking the trailer, he drove off, leaving her to wonder what Jeff could have done and who the people he was talking about were. Also wondering how she would get back, but that wasn¡¯t her immediate issue and was reasonably confident that something had been planned.


    Alone on the stony beach, she pulled a canned tent out of the trailer and let it deploy itself. After she used it to get changed, she rolled the cart into it to prevent it from filling up with snow. When Sam had last been on that beach, the floodlights had kept the area bright. In the dark of the near constant night, her only light was the torch that was built into her thermal dive suit. With a third test of her equipment, ensuring the air takes were full and the battery was water-sealed, she waded into the sub-zero water. Solo diving was never considered safe and diving in general carried some risk. Diving solo in Antarctic waters while no one knew you were there; that was suicidal.


    She moved quickly through the water with the aid of a sea scooters that had a bag of tools carefully tied to it. The scooter had a dash cam fitted to it, and for the sake of validity it recorded the whole process. Before long, Sam¡¯s wrist watch lit up, the indication that the distraction was on and she could begin her job. If the intelligence Jeff gave her was accurate, the Kaya company could have a submersible helicopter to her location within five minutes of noticing her. Jeff¡¯s acquaintances would apparently take care of digital surveillance if there was any, and the distraction should hold human attention. Rig combat was a sport that controlled the very borders of nations, as well as being a spectacle to watch, so there were very few people that would have no interest at all in a match between the world champion and the latest technology. That would especially be the case for the people who were willing in a rig-based industry; there jobs could be impacted after all.


    She arrived at her destination a minute later, the concentric rings of precious metals that floated there with the engravings of every pilot and mechanist¡¯s name. When she was there before, she hadn¡¯t thought about how it remained in place there. Currents and wildlife could have easily swept it away. Looking beneath it, the answer was apparent. The under side was held by a thin forcefield tube, one that sunk to the frozen bottom of the sea floor. Shining a light down, she could see a full scale forcefield generator, one that had been adapted to function underwater. That was a ridiculous expense, especially when the same job could be accomplished with a metal chain. Diving closer to the device, it started to become clearer. The device wasn¡¯t originally a generator, instead it was a repurposed research submarine. The entirety aside from the generator was buried in the soil, but it was without a doubt a sub.


    To be exact, it was the Lanternfish, the submarine used by Hora Homi; the woman who would marry to become Homi Kaya. Hora Homi¡¯s team discovered formless particles as a by-product of their deep-sea research program. It was international team that used a repurposed American submarine, the Lanternfish, to investigate pressures and temperatures normal subs couldn¡¯t stand for long. Being the only research vessel of the time to have a shield generator, a new technology then, allowed them to make a string of discoveries that were the envy of their fields. Homi was there as a biologist and doctor and discovered the formless particles in the shield generator. From then on, her career was spent finding uses for the particles in medicine, which allowed for prosthetic limbs made from them. Homi¡¯s daughter, Erin Kaya then completely overshadowed her mother¡¯s accomplishments when she invented the rig core and changed the entire world.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Despite Homi¡¯s success and fame, the rest of the Lanternfish¡¯s crew faded into obscurity and even the sub itself supposedly went missing.


    Knowing that it was a sub and not just a generator, Sam took a spade from the tool bag and dug around the edges until she found what she found the manual release to a half-buried hatch. Prying open the panel and turning the release caused the door to open enough that she could swim in with her tanks off then pull the gear in after her. Inside a small chamber she closed the outer door and started pumping a manual drain. The inner door wouldn¡¯t open with the chamber filled, and she had to pump for several minutes before it was drained enough that she could get through. Making her way through the ship was inconvenient as the sub was on its side, but Sam followed the signs and made her way to the ship¡¯s bridge.


    Once there, Sam saw that the majority of the systems were left offline and only the generator and power were functional. When the environmental controls were turned on and a fresh supply of air filled the ship, she took her breather off to save the tank¡¯s supply. Looking at the power display, it seemed that someone was regularly resupplying the ship, and the generator could last, as it was, for around three years without a resupply. Even then, it was equipped with a mining system that would let it dug up its own fuel if there was any around.


    While she was looking through the ships computers, she noticed the downward facing windows. The Lanternfish wasn¡¯t just there to hold the monument it place, it acted as a plug to a cavern underneath it. Shining her light and pointing the camera, Sam peered down the cavern. The sub blocked the hole and apparently had pumped the water out, ensuring that the cave was dry. Her light reflected off the black and white cavern soil, soil that was laced with the reflective colour of a rainbow, like the tunnel was itself a cut diamond.


    Leaving down a hatch to investigate and only a metal platform that had been drilled in place there, Sam walked down the catwalk that spiralled along the cavern wall. As she went, she could see signs of digging having been done in the frozen soil, like something ball sized had been removed from the walls at those points. When she had descended far enough that the sub was no longer easily visible, she saw what was being dug out. Small black cubes within the ice. They weren¡¯t perfectly cube shaped, but they were still very close; as close as a natural object could get to being a perfect cube while still seeming plausibly natural.


    There wasn¡¯t just one or two, there were hundreds around, thousands even. That wasn¡¯t the most socking find, either. At the bottom of the tunnel, she found the frozen bodies of the Lanternfish¡¯s crew, aside form Homi Kaya. Their bodies were encased in ice and preserved, as if they hadn¡¯t aged a day in the three generations that followed.


    After making sure that the recording was made, she dug out one of the cubes and placed in in a pressure-proof airbag. When the bag hit the outside pressure, it would rapidly inflate to negate the pressure and float to the surface. From there, she could make her own assent and wind it in with a long cord attached to her tank. She made it back to shore couple minutes later. Where another driver was waiting for her. Thankfully this one was in a snow car and not a bike. The driver had already packed up her tent and attached the trailer; it seemed that she was running late.


    The driver directed her to the back cavern of the truck sized vehicle and inside was a small recovery area, complete with shower and kitchenette. After a quick shower and a change of closes she sent a quick message to Jeff to tell him it went well and waited for the water to boil. She hadn¡¯t really spent that long out there, but it felt like longer. When the car dropped her off mid-way and what was probably the original bike returned her home, she was tired. Most of the sunless day was spent in transit and the cold water had brought out the fatigue in her, even if the thermal suit mitigated any danger to her life. The recording she made was copied by each of the drivers as they went and the cube was being preserved within the cold storage stasis of her workspace.


    If the rumours were right, then what she found could bring about the end of the Kaya Company. Doing that would hurt Sachiko, but Sachiko had encouraged her to find out the truth for her. Sam hadn¡¯t told Jeff that she had discussed the rumours with Sachiko, but she trusted that Sachiko wouldn¡¯t do anything with what she said. Besides, Sachiko was already busy trying to secure her position as a pilot while the company pushed to have her start training for a management position. Even though Alicia, Sachiko¡¯s mother, had only recently joined Erin in the senior most board position, the company wanted to look more proactive in the face of reduced profit forecasts.


    While she sat on a sofa with a blanket over her, a message arrived from Jeff.


    ¡°Good work out there. I¡¯ll finish organising a lab and we can get started when the award ceremony begins.¡±

 Chapter 39 – The Unknown Enemy Emerges, Part 6

    Chapter 39


    ¡°Good work out there. I¡¯ll finish organising a lab and we can get started when the award ceremony begins.¡±


    Having sent the message, Jeff caught a ride out to the airport and from there walked to the hanger of a company that handled the supplies for the area. While the bulk of the supplies were shipped in on boats, and a lot of the plants were grown in greenhouses, a lot of the perishables and fresh imports came in on the bulky planes. With the number of trips in and out that the company made, they were the best bet of smuggling in the things he needed.


    His collaborators in bringing down the Kaya company had workers on those planes and had spent the week assembling a laboratory out the back of one of the hangers. The lab was a sterile plastic box with a smaller plastic chamber that served as a decontamination room. Inside was a small table plugged into several computers, each displaying the controls to a range of different probes, scans and sensors. The back of the chamber even had a tank of laboratory grade formless particles. Unlike the ones he normally worked with, laboratory grade particles were completely blank, even devoid of the basic function that let them be easily formed. The difference was mostly around usability. The general use type, when exposed to air, would retain the same general shape that their container was, only expanding lightly as the wind moved them about.


    The laboratory type would instead spread out instantly, clumping together on sources of electricity or magnetism. That included human bodies. If there was a breach of the containment, any humans in the room would be covered from head to toe in the formless particles that would then compress into the body, trying to reach the nerves and causing millions of micro cuts to the skin and organs. They would die in an instant, unaware that they even died. To prevent that kind of outcome, the four corner and centre of the roof all had light-like fixtures that would attract the formless particles if there was a breach. Alternatively, a shield could be used, though the lab didn¡¯t have one.


    When Jeff entered the makeshift lab, he had expected to see some of the smugglers there. When he found he was alone, he tried calling them. Not getting an immediate response wasn¡¯t unusual. Whenever he tried to contact them, it would often lead nowhere until they contacted him. It wasn¡¯t that surprising, most places called them terrorists after all. If they were that easy to contact then they would have been found out and arrested long ago.


    With no one around to help, he spent a few more hour prepping the lab and verifying the tools. When he finished a dry run of the experiments they were going to perform, he returned to his room to rest, sleeping sporadically as the excitement kept him up and his fatigue brought him down.


    The next morning, he ran the stall at the convention until the clock said it was midday. With the award ceremony set to start at any moment, he walked out into the dark snow to catch a ride to Sam¡¯s workshop. As the award ceremony was only for the pilots who came in first and second, and not their mechanist, Diana was running the stall while he and Sam ran the analysis. Her fame as the winner¡¯s mechanist would likely drive sales even more than just the victory did.


    Once Sam and Jeff arrived at the lab and got through the decontamination process, Sam opened up her container to reveal the cube. Placing it on the table, the first thing they had to do was confirm the rumour. Jeff drew some of the formless particles into a vacuum syringe, one with a microscope in the plunger that broadcasted to a nearby monitor. Without any kind of programming, they particles bounced around in a wild jostle, without any kind of pattern or consistency. As the syringe was placed in contact with the cube, that suddenly changed. The particles formed into a single sheet and layer the syringe neatly, turning the syringe a solid black colour.


    That was enough verification for Jeff, but the rest of the testing was still necessary. He pulled out a radiation detector and found the exact reading he had been expecting. The cube was exactly what he thought, a deactivated rig core.


    If the rumour was to be believed, then when Homi Kaya brought back her discovery of the formless particle, the military, which was the most significant funder of the expedition, sought to take the discovery and weaponize it. Homi and her team had originally thought that the formless particles were a rare by-product of the shield generator and that was the avenue that the military¡¯s researchers focused on and the story that was made public when Homi¡¯s medical research later paid off.


    After several attempts at recreating the circumstances of the discovery, the Lanternfish and its crew stop going out into public and then a few years later Homi makes succeeds in making the first formless particle generator. There had been some attempts at weaponizing the formless particles, but they were to easily defended against and more conventional poisons and chemical weapons were far cheaper to make. As the computerised control progressed in secret, and the particles went from novelty to industrial part, to medical breakthrough, Erin Kaya came of age and she, having studied her mother¡¯s project and worked in military research, changed the world with the invention of the rig core.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Only, if the rumours were to be believed, Erin and Homi were not inventors; they were discoverers. The core and particle generators weren¡¯t made but were instead naturally occurring.


    Feeling a smooth crack along the surface of the cube, Jeff gently stroked it, causing the cube to split into two roughly even halves. The inner side of one half was as smooth as the outer faces, but the other seemed like a maze of tiny paths, like the negative imprint of an old-style circuit board. The carved, for or just giving the impression of being carved, side seemed to pulse and move fractionally and the sensor that was monitoring the cube for microscopic movements showed a stream of formless particles coming from several microscopic holes in the pattern. The particles were drawn vertically to the power supply in the ceiling, but still caused Sam and Jeff to take steps backwards. While that was interesting to watch, there was a far more significant thing happening, one that caused more alarm across the networked computers.


    Some of the particles from the lowest hole, the hole furthest from the power, weren¡¯t getting distracted by it and were making their way over to the other half. Once there, the particles disintegrated, sending some electricity into the half-cube and some gamma radiation into the room, with a tiny spark of light each time.


    While Sam and Jeff took some radiation mitigation medicine and studied the data, some of the particles that were clustered on the roof suddenly disengaged from it and retuned to the patterned half, returning inside the hole that the monitoring software said it had emerged from. That struck Jeff as a bee like behaviour, the energy from the safety system was pollen being returned to the hive. Looking over the data, at the moment that the particles started returning with their spoils, the smooth half had sent out a harmonic pulse, exacting within the signal range that rigs operated with.


    A structural scan of the smooth side seemed to give no results, but a scan of the patterned one was like something out of the textbooks they had studied in the early stages of their degree. Aside from the part that would normally hold the controlling computer, the patterned half was almost identical to a commercial formless particle generator, only at a much smaller scale. The location that normally housed the computer was very strange. The scan showed that the substance in it was a colony of viral particles, virions, that were clustered together like a moss. The virion moss seemed to be sending simple signals, like a simple brain structure.


    Studying it closer, Sam and Jeff were able to actually see the process by which the formless particles were assembled and it wasn¡¯t at all like they had always been told. They had learnt that it involved a colony of assembly nanites, instead it was a colony of virions covering other virion clusters in a metallic coat. The whole thing acted like the living body of a creature that was made from rock and metal.


    If the formless particles were alive, or as alive as a virus could be considered, then the smooth half would be the controller for the colony, the actual brain of the structure. It sent out pulses and controlled the formless particles, getting them to disintegrate against it. The cube was a metallic lifeform capable of naturally occurring nuclear fission.


    With the technology of the time, Homi wouldn¡¯t have been able to work out the controlling side, though she had apparently worked out the structure and recorded the pattern enough to make it a viable technology. Erin however, did find a way to harness the smooth side, even if she couldn¡¯t replicate it. Be encasing the smooth side along with whatever else she needed, she was able to make the cube into a rig control core. While the earlier versions only had limited control over the particles, as the generations past and the complexity of the signals they were able to send increased. In the latest update, they even worked out how to cause the particles to trigger their disintegration without direct contact with the core and without causing the entire core to explode, as with the anti-tampering failsafe.


    When Sam and Jeff were done with the experiments and they put the cube back together and froze it, thus putting it to sleep, they recorded one final pulse. Jeff had a suspicion about what it was, and fed it to the lab¡¯s contained formless particles. Sure enough, when they received the signal, they floated harmlessly to the ground, inert. It was the shut down signal, something that mechanist everywhere had long dreamed of having. Every time someone tries to do rig maintenance, it was like fixing a power tool while it was still active. At any moment they might make a mistake and trigger the anti-tampering explosion. However, with the shutdown signal, even the anti-tampering could be put to sleep, allowing the machine to be fixed without any issue.


    Pulling out his phone to check the time, Jeff started to get a little concerned. It had been three quarters of a day and no one had gotten back to him. He also looked through the file distribution site they used. Both of the drivers that had picked up Sam were supposed to upload a copy of the recording, yet he couldn¡¯t find anything. With the number of files on the site, he might have just been looking for the wrong keywords, but if that was the case then there had been some serious miscommunication. Searching through the local news, he found that there had been a sudden movement in the ice, an several vehicles had been caught up in it. One large sized car and three bikes.


    Without hesitation, he grabbed the hard drive which had all of their data and yelled out to Sam.


    ¡°Something''s wrong; we need to go.¡±

 Chapter 40 – The Unknown Enemy Emerges, End Part

    Chapter 40


    ¡°Something¡¯s wrong; we need to go.¡±


    Sam was shocked to see just how much raw fear was evident in Jeff¡¯s face. She had never seen anything like that from him. Even when he was stressed, there was still a kind of confidence to him, but that was nowhere to be seen. Instead he was rushing to grab the research and repeatedly slamming the decontamination room¡¯s door. The first door slowly opened, and he pulled Sam in with him, barely giving her time to bag the cube. As he muttered to himself, trying to will the cleaning gases into working faster, the outer door of the plastic structure remained shut.


    The room suddenly shook as the hanger door was torn open, the figure of a golden rig revealing itself. With taloned feet, bird wings, beak shaped helmet and a solid body, it was impossible to distinguish the pilot. However, the golden harpy design was synonymous with Sara Campbell and very few people would be willing to attempt to frame her. With a cracking sound, the kind distinct to micro-railguns, a golden feather launched from the wings. It tore through the plastic like it wasn¡¯t there at all. Sam had though it was aimed at her, and the relief that it wasn¡¯t, dropped her to her knees.


    She then realised that a properly maintained rig would never miss an essentially stationary target. She turned to see what had been hit. She saw Jeff. He had his had pressed against the back door, the door towards the chamber.


    ¡°The airlock¡¯s broken,¡± he called out, ¡°when the system realises that, the door will unlock early. Take this drive an publish everything. If our data gets out, then we don¡¯t matter anymore.¡±


    Behind him she could see why he was pressing his hand against the door. The canister holding the formless particles had been breached by the feather and they were filling the room like a tide. When they started the decontamination process, containing lights were turned off. They used a substantial amount of power, and that power was shifted the decontamination, as that also used a lot of power. The particles would stream through the hole in the door and devour them both if they ran. If one of them remained behind to plug the hole, then the other would be able to escape. There wasn¡¯t anything they could fill the gap with. If they stuffed a shirt in, it wouldn¡¯t even buy them a second.


    After shooting the feather, the rig left, closing the hanger door behind it. As it was, it would look like a malfunction in the containment of an improvised lab. An accident that could be easily explained. Despite the garish golden colour, it was still a rig and as such would be able to go unseen.


    As the outer door opened, Sam started to run. She clutched the cube containing bag in one hand and held the hard drive against her chest. Worried that the rig would still be around the front, Sam instead ran towards the back of the hanger. There was an exit though the office area, and she rushed towards it with her best speed. She could hear Jeff¡¯s pain-filled screams ring out behind her, but she didn¡¯t dare turn around to look.


    Outside the hanger, Sam ran towards the airport. She knew that if they were making the deaths look accidental, then the witnesses at the airport would be her best protection. Jeff had deliberately chosen the furthest hanger, during a time when the fewest people would be at the airport, which was in turn the furthest building from the population centre, on the off chance that they triggered the core going off like a nuclear bomb. That was working against Sam, as she stumbled in the dark and snow.


    Sam suddenly stopped. Ahead of her was a pair of footprints that were visible even in the dark. They were too large not to be seen; a rig¡¯s footprints. The wind picked up snow and the white outline of wings was visible for a moment before melting away. The dark had hindered her, but the pilot would have been able to see fine.


    ¡°It¡¯s too late to regret now, villain,¡± the pilot¡¯s voice rang out from the rig. It wasn¡¯t the Sara¡¯s mischievous voice. It was the self-assertive and baselessly confident voice of her son, Satou.


    The rig¡¯s arm became partially visible and within its grasp was a small canister of formless particles. She had no doubt that they would likewise be lab grade. It was a little unlikely that formless particles could have escaped this far our after her, though not impossible. If she died from them, it would still be a plausible story.


    As the canister was about to open, the two could hear a faint sound as they turned to see a snow-bike crash into a nearby wall. Following that, a bright flash triggered behind Sam, though in front of Satou, and the light still seemed to blind her. She felt a hand pull her arm then heard several more cracking sounds, that were like fireworks. The hand directed her into a small space, possibly beneath a panel a hanger floor.


    ¡°Stay quiet,¡± the voice whispered, ¡°I¡¯ll tell you when it¡¯s passed.¡±


    For a few minutes after, the occasional sound of heavy footprints could be felt through the cold soil. Sam was up against a cement pillar of the foundation and her side was half buried in snow-mixed soil. In that time, her eyes started to recover, even as the arm she was laying on started to go numb. In the darkness, she still couldn¡¯t see her rescuer, and their whisper had been to quiet to discern. Despite that, from presence, or maybe just hopeful thinking, she felt that it was Jeff.


    A few more minutes, still, passed and the other person pulled out a phone. In the light of the screen, Sam confirmed her hope; it was Jeff, he had survived. What she hadn¡¯t expected was that his right arm was missing, with a black stump at his elbow seeming to be consuming his arm. Puss was forming at the end and once she noticed it, she the smell of it hit her. It was a putrid kind of smell, like burning and rotting flesh. It didn¡¯t seem possible for such a state to come about so quickly.


    ¡°Okay, looks like it¡¯s gone.¡± He was speaking with confidence, but his teeth were chittering with cold and pain. Noticing Sam stare at his missing arm, he gave an explanation. ¡°After I got you to run, I kicked open some of the flooring to try and get some wires to tourniquet my arm and buy a few more moments. In with the wires was some coolant tubes. Most of the things are stuck in the room with my frozen hand plugging the hole, but a few of them got into my bloodstream. Looks like I won¡¯t be able to work around cores anymore.¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    He passed it off as a joke, but the contamination was clearly tearing his arm stump apart. She couldn¡¯t even begin to imagine how much it hurt, and she felt like if she were to speak she would just start crying. Jeff also looked like he would brake down the moment he didn¡¯t have anything to distract himself with, and that deepened her own feelings.


    ¡°Take your sleepless pill now, you¡¯ll need to be sharp for this next part.¡± As he spoke he handed his phone to her, an app with a map and a moving dot was active. ¡°I prepared a few things in stashes around the place and the people I worked with did also. That full range flash that I blinded you with also hits cameras and detectors outside of human vision. We were lucky that he hadn¡¯t used any kind of sound-based detection or we would have been screwed.¡±


    He lifted the floorboard with his back and took a careful look around. With a glance at the phone he got out of the hole and helped Sam get out. Once out of the hole he took his advice and fished a pill out of her jacket pocket. Swallowing it without water was a little hard on her fear dried oesophagus, but she managed anyway. Within moments she felt as rested as if she had slept for several hours, though without the warmth of a blanket.


    ¡°The plan hasn¡¯t changed, you need to get to a computer in the airport lounge.¡±


    ¡°What will you do then? You need to get to a hospital.¡± It bothered her a little how worried she sounded, how she was shivering and not just from the cold. Her mentor could seriously die if he didn¡¯t make it to a hospital, but he was acting like he was going to charge into battle instead. Thinking that was when it hit her; Jeff wouldn¡¯t be her mentor anymore. They hadn¡¯t worked together for a while, but she still though of him that way, still felt like she could depend on him for advice. That wouldn¡¯t be possible, even if they somehow survived. His arm was contaminated with particles, and those particles would spread throughout his blood. If he was unlucky they would even settle in his heart. If he even went near a rig core like that, he would die from the particles shredding him. With the new generation moving to entirely particle based, the training models would be refitted to take core commands remotely, and at that time, Jeff wouldn¡¯t even be able to enter a stadium without dying. Just being in a workshop would be dangerous. The only place he would be able to work around rigs would be in theoretical positions, such as design or teaching. Despites his grudge against the Kaya¡¯s and his rants against the school, he had always seemed happiest when working on a rig; the lost of his arm seemed as metaphoric as it was physical.


    ¡°Well,¡± he said after a few moments, ¡°I¡¯ll head to a nearby cache of things that can distract the rig.¡± After saying that he seemed to chuckle inwardly. ¡°There¡¯s also meant to be a vehicle there, so with any luck the rig will think both of us are escaping. Here, take these also,¡± he said as he passed a pair of goggles and a grenade to her, ¡°There should be another flasher and glasses in the cache, anyway. Just watch the phone; if you see the rig follow me, then make your move. Each of the shipping company¡¯s hangers have one of these panels so if you need to hide they¡¯ll do that.¡±


    With that, he ran out of the hanger, clearly struggling to balance but pushing forward as fast as he could. When he was well outside of her vision, she ducked back into the hole and watched the screen. She could see the dot move in the direction that Jeff had run and could only wait. There was a crack of thunder, followed by the repeated sound of railgun fire, and the dot that represented the rig seemed to be moving off towards the edge of the map.


    Knowing that it was her chance, Sam ran for it. She didn¡¯t look up. She didn¡¯t look at the phone. She did nothing but run. She could see the light of the airport doors reflecting in the snow and she spurred herself towards it.


    Thud.


    The rig landed in front of her, invisible but one the less present. Satou stood between her and the protection of the airport and it was starting to get to her. She could tell that he was about to speak, say something about how good he was, but she simply dropped the flasher and blindly ran forward. She didn¡¯t know for sure where the rigs legs were, but she took a guess and rolled, using her short stature to its fullest advantage, and made it through behind the rig.


    She made it into the airport; the warmth of the central heating greeting her like a friend. She would have given in and accepted the embrace it offered and slept had she not just taken a sleepless pill. Instead she went down to business and made her way to the lounge.


    There were older model computers set in cramped rows with card slots to charge by the minute for use. The prices were enough to make even the most miserly of Telcos blush, but with no competition and a scarcity of resources, the internet access could be as expensive as the company liked. That hardly seemed to matter, as Sam pulled out the drive and plugged it in. As the computer¡¯s antivirus software ran its checks, Sam started to look around. She noticed the lights dim and the other customers look about with looks of confusion and concern. A power outage would mean sitting in the dark and cold and was hardly the experience promised by the Kaya company when they hosted the events.


    That was when the first person went down.


    A businessman sitting near the window started to bleed, as if his skin simply didn¡¯t want to contain its blood anymore. Those around him soon followed as by the time a dozen people had died, a black haze had become visible even in the flickering light. Satou had released the canister of particles into the airport; collateral damage be damned.


    As the haze approached her, she shut her eyes and waited, once again at the mercy of Satou¡¯s weapons. Once again, she was alive. She could see the particles clumped together on her skin, but she brushed them off, inert. Her skin was itchy, as if bitten from head to toe by mosquitoes, but she wasn¡¯t bleeding out like the rest of the occupants. No, not all the occupants. There was a man dressed like a businessman, but with a stature that could only be described as childlike. Stunted growth, the most obvious indicator of a sleepless user. Like Sam, the stranger was alive, and like Sam, he had choses to cause serious issues with his growth and a lethal dependency in exchange for never having to sleep.


    More importantly, they had stripped away their DC; made themselves entirely unable to control any formless particle-based technology. As she and Jeff had learnt, formless particles were a viral substance. The chemical reconditioning that sleepless caused, also granted immunity to the formless particle infection; she effectively had an immunity. Vaccination against the disease that was tearing apart the room.


    With new confidence in her safety, Sam opened the drive and navigated to the distribution website. While she started the upload, she also started a recording of the scene around her. She wouldn¡¯t let them get away with it.


    ¡°Satou Campbell has let loose a¡­¡±


    Bang.


    A gunshot sounded and fire spread through her chest, stopping her mid-sentence. A second sounded and the drive was destroyed. A third and the computer went with it.


    Sam struggled to rise, turning slowly and shakily to see who had shot her. Seeing who had stopped her, tears started to roll freely down her face. A single word escaped her lips as she fell to the floor.


    ¡°Why¡±

 Chapter 41 – Epilogue

    Chapter 41


    ¡°Why¡±


    Sam¡¯s final words, or rather word, rang through Sachiko¡¯s head as she submitted her report. The entire affair had ended badly, and she mostly blamed Satou¡¯s incompetence for that. International Body for Rig Science had organised the operation to end cleanly, but he blundered three times and tried to cover for his mistakes. Had she known someone so incompetent would be involved, she probably wouldn¡¯t have gone to the Body with what she knew in the first place. That was hardly relevant, as she now had to clean up after his messes.


    Sam had been a friend of hers, and it was true that they trusted each other, but Sachiko was brought up in the Kaya household and using friends as a sacrifice to success was a part of her upbringing, a part of her family legacy since before the Horas became the Kayas. Her great grandmother, Homi, sacrificed her team, that she had worked with for decades. Her grandmother, Erin, sacrificed her connections in military development, that had taught her everything she knew. Her mother, Alicia, betrayed her pilot, using her as a research subject and blackmailing her in and out of retirement. Now Sachiko, herself, had betrayed her mechanist, selling out her plans after encouraging her to go through with them. Also, she killed her. Somehow that felt like the lesser evil.


    The betrayal was what she felt bad about, not the killing. After all, the killing was necessary. Had Sam successfully revealed the Kaya family secrets, worse still released the shutdown code into the public, then it could very well have caused an outbreak of war.


    As things stood, rigs were too powerful for any of the remaining countries to launch a war successfully. They also gave those with ambition a means to advance through calculated gambling and match-fixing. Armies throughout the world were steadily shrinking as money was diverted to rig programs; it was predicted that within another three generations even self-defence-based armies would be non-existent. Rigs were achieving humanity¡¯s long held dream of world peace. There were still terror attacks and violence caused by individuals and criminal groups, but nothing even remotely like a war.


    Sam¡¯s upload would have changed that. With the knowledge that cores were naturally found and not made, the Kaya right to be sole distributer would be lost, especially since they would be the proceeds of crime. With the shutdown frequency, rigs could be effectively disabled, and they would end up as just another piece of military hardware as a tank would be equipped with shutdown pulses and soldiers could be given pulse-guns. An army equipped with such things could easily take the core mine for themselves. Even if they cores weren¡¯t used to control rigs, they were still the most advanced power generators around, and countries would fight for control of the mine. All the progress they had made would be over in an instant.


    That was why she took what she knew to the Body and let them organise an operation. The Body would use that knowledge to leverage control over her family and the company, but that was better than a new world war.


    They had acted much faster than she thought they would, immediately using Satou to dispose of the drivers and their copies of the footage. He used his rig to dig out an ice-shelf and drop the car and bikes into it. The Body seemed to have filled his head with ideas of justice and righteousness, that the driver who was doing a job unaware of what he was involved with was a villain that needed to be eliminated for the sake of world peace. It was a shame that he wasn¡¯t as competent as he was fanatic.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    His first mistake was not waiting in the hanger to make sure the particles did the job and killed them off. A couple warning shots through the chamber would have been enough to make sure they didn¡¯t try to escape. She didn¡¯t necessarily hold him to blame for being blinded by Jeff¡¯s intervention when he had Sam cornered, no one had expected him to have weapons stashed in the hanger, but there would have been time to recover if he had contacted her and asked for advice, rather than flying to guard the door.


    When he was guarding the door, he made his second mistake. He chased after Jeff without first confirming that there was anyone else with him, going after an obvious distraction. Moreover, an airport car riddled with holes was not something that could easily be explained as an accident. Would an investigation accept ¡°the car was already like that¡± as an excuse?


    That just showed how little he knew about using a rig against anything other than a rig, which also contributed to his third mistake; letting an unarmed person slip by mankind¡¯s greatest weapon. He knew that the flash grenades were in play, he could see Sam had the goggles, yet he somehow didn¡¯t think she would use a flash. He then just let he run by him as he flailed wildly to the sides.


    His biggest mess was when he panicked. He could see that she had made it to a computer and opened the canister of particles into the airport. Had Sachiko not been monitoring the situation from a nearby office, he would have succeeded in killing everyone accept Sam and still failed the mission. The airport was a property owned and built by the Kaya family, and their family made a great many enemies over the years. As such, their publicly accessible buildings had shield generators built into them that protected family members from assassination attempts. That shield covered her as she walked through the bloody bodies, towards where her close friend was live streaming the event. Any hope of making it look like an accident was blown, and worse Satou¡¯s name was already made public, so Sachiko just shot Sam, the hard drive and the computer.


    Seeing her friend¡¯s look of hurt disbelief did cut her a little, but she hardened her resolve and made a call to the Body. They in turn contact the Kaya company and both groups came together to quickly run a cover up. That night, a story ran on the news about Satou who, ashamed of his public and humiliating defeat at the hands of his mother, plotted to assassinate the heir to the Kaya family with the aid of an anti-rig radical group. Fortunately, when he tried to escape, current world champion Savannah Luca and former world champion Wu Xiaoxuan were able to assist police in apprehending him. Unfortunately, two of Savannah Luca¡¯s close friends were killed in the assassination attempt.


    The two pilots were obviously not told the truth, though convincing Savannah Luca that a random victim¡¯s body was Jeff¡¯s was a little worrying. If she had noticed that something wasn¡¯t right, then they may have stirred up more problems. Not having a retrievable body was another thing that Satou screwed up, with the shot-to-hell car catching fire.


    The events were filled out in a non-descript rig maintenance report to be filed with the International Body for Rig Science, only a close inspection would reveal that it was a report about a mechanist being fixed rather than a rig. With the file sent, she took a walk outside. She rarely had late nights and filling out reports was something she would normally leave for Sam to do. In the cold breeze she saw the first sunrise in weeks; a good omen for someone protecting world peace. Hearing a faint buzz, she looked about.  ¡®How unusual,'' She thought to herself, ''postal drones don¡¯t normally fly so low.¡¯


    ~ Fin ~