One of the Mech pilots ejecting in part 2 of this battle

  He awoke in his bunk in the scientific wing. His team of scientists wasn’t here, they had to sleep outside in a tent guarded by bots. The ceiling swirled with a fake window showing the Rings as the glimmering lights of the Westbound Length brought back the day. At night, the lights mostly returned to their interior, and they de-linked to whirl around the planet. It was hypothesized this was a defensive pattern, but no one could figure out by who or against what. The nearest sun was several sectors away, and the nearest planet a week’s travel in a spaceship.

  The far side of the planet was an asteroid-carved wasteland fraught with deep frost and ancient substances foreboding to even study. The four nations were spread across the light side where the vast glimmering emitters of the Rings sent many natural blessings. The Blue Nation - encroaching fairly deep into Red developmental facilities & their support systems’ territory - was their primary enemy, and took the most land of the farthest fringes of the light side - hardly ever contested in living memory. Lands of deep glaciers and deep waters.

  Directly across from the direction of the Red Zone was the primary Blue Nation, a triangular territory diving towards them with a curling, snowy coast from a mountainous fringe of glacier that was an impassable threshold to the far side. From that continent, the farthest fringe settlements and town-states behind Jubey’s vantage resembled foreigners, to these mainland Blues.

  100 years ago, Greens were the primary opponent, which drove their turn as mercenary companies. Many other settlements existed not affiliated with the Four Nations that typically aligned with unfathomably strange things, like the monsters in the deep.

  Jubey blinked. His study of the light sky had guided him to his school reconstruction of the flying city, and guided him to many other nerdy things. Indeed, it was common belief that the patterns of the emitters guided the progression of lives, absorbed into the mind over passing days. Now he went down to resolve the mystery of the LongArc… which came down yesterday like the asteroids that no longer hit the planet.

  He went down the gleaming silver staircase, bypassing fresh hires straight from school picked from the top scorers. At each floor, there was a beep, as statistics were recorded by a wall interface. At the bottom, he went across a long hallway through a support building into the hangar.

  Military staff were waiting for him, standing in a line. The central two stepped over as he came to his Mech. “Our daily records show the launching of a LongArc missile from the position of this hangar. Mild glitch residue found in full set of relevant files. Knowing that your Mech is equipped with them, the lead engineer on duty checked it this morning and found it was fully equipped, and nothing more was taken from the armory. One of the combat reports featured you, and you were saved by this LongArc missile. Quite a conundrum of how to work out the sequence of events, but we come out certain it was launched by a vehicle in your possession.

  The combat report showed an exemplary effort by you - Jubey, major engineer - to rescue pinned soldiers in a rapidly-escalating routine recovery mission. Normally, such success excuses unauthorized use of military hardware. However this is a very sensitive facility, and we have many questions covered and yet to be covered. We’ll be in touch.” They left.

  The mech was hunched over where one of the low-level engineer bosses had unlocked the back panels and studied the missiles with care. He used his Digital Interface by tapping his wrist, unlocking the Mech. It turned around, then faced him. “Heard over an intercom a major battle is starting. Great opportunity to gain rep with those guys.” He got in via ladder, that was taken by a bot.

  Stomping onto the field, its AI reported: “20 miles to battle site.” Jubey waited a moment, and asked: “Did you fire that missile?” The AI replied: “I have no idea what you’re talking about, sir.”

  Jubey glanced into the overhead tech read, dense with yellow microtext. Often less read - than absorbed - by the eyes. “I’ve never heard of an onboard AI of your model calling anyone ‘sir.’” “You’re a new pilot. Operational situations have not been exhausted, and I have the digitalIQ to adjust for a vast myriad of contingencies during operations.” “And you’re not acquainted with my boredom habits! I’ve studied long lists of differences by type and subtype of the various AI assistant lines. I know that currently, personality is still an elite trait. And yet I am stumbling into many small hints of function beyond your class…”

  The mech turned towards a mirror-bright nearby 4 story building. “Please, Pilot, the frontline awaits! No ability to evaluate ‘rep’ level with any governmental faction, but I’m sure diversions reduce it.” There was the tiniest glint of Jubey smiling in the head: “You don’t even realize, I’m sure, how many changes there were from the norm. No capacity to do so.” “Sir!” It placed its crane hand on the building, and with minor finger flexes the touched window began to crack. Jubey laughed, rocked in his shockwave-resistant seat, and shouted in response: “Alright!”

  Jubey shifted his right foot forward, turning up the speed. The mech began to jog. “Speed approaching maximum. Reading battlefield targets on own sensors.” He shifted his left arm, used to how the machine gun affected balance, and shoved the foot further, seeking nearly a secret crevice. “Quasi-boost attained. Asymmetric build creates operational difficulty at this extreme. Reading enemies; tactical decision rated “good.” Closing ground priority - punchable enemies with range advantage on closest ring-segment of zone targets.” The torso swiveled with Jubey’s wild twists, and with a wild twirl he wall-ran up a tall building of the former downtown. A sniper-bot turned, its orb-face shimmering. “Semi-mecha Red entered zone.”

  The Mech’s feet crushed into the windows and support walls, leaving deep footprints. Jubey twisted to drive them deeper, pausing to swing machinegun fire at the sniper bot. Its frame was riddled with blown twists of metal as it led their rise, and missed its 5x.50 cal shot. Its face was cracked, and a mysterious stabilizing liquid seeping out began to expose disc-shaped subeyes. Its aim would be inaccurate, but it didn’t get a chance: the crane fist crushed its twisted wiry body. Coiled-up wires and actuators flung wildly, and quickly Jubey stomped on, preserving some momentum. A guncar turned turret - using both bullets and plasma - was just beyond the battlement segment where the sniper had been, and exciting cables and ports were torn up and broken by machine gun fire.

  There were several other enemies on this ridge of a former courthouse, and Jubey slid off onto it, leaving a wave of tumbling panels, subpanels, and rebar spilling with him. The wave knocked out a cannon under construction, and the robotics sergeant faced Jubey’s gun inches from his face, and the crane fist 10 yards away.

  “Blue officer!” Crackled Jubey through the speakers, “Requesting a retreat! Otherwise, you and all nearby Blues will be dealt with at our discretion.” “Don’t ’ave the authoritah over any humans besi’d those few lanky mechanic sticks. Do ‘ave rippler, doe.” He flipped the control stick in his hand in the shadow of his mechanical control cubicle. Parts from the sniper-bot, gunturret and cannon rose and waved through the area. Aggression meant execution, so they merely assembled like looming jellyfish of various sizes.

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  The robotics sergeant narrowed his brow: “Ripple discs are hell to remuv from land or buildin. Requesting return to Blue field leader.” Suddenly, the HUD blurred with unreadably fast text, and the cockpit heated up. There was whining and shaking inside the casings. “Jubey, I believe I’ve figured out the hack for the discs.” A normal extreme defeat-hazard of Blue robotics had been dealt with in just over a minute.

  The robotics sergeant read their body language, expression and mechanical sounds. His eyes widened, cycling through fury and fear and curious wonder. His fingers turned the stick, and the mindless enemies charged at the Mech disc-first. The Mech swung with extreme speed, cold-cocking the sergeant with the gun barrel and bashing the cannonjelly at 200mph across the area for safety. Back to the rest of them, its antennae surged with waves of connection energy, using the extreme reception to test the hack in microseconds. The fastest disc whirred like a powerful sawblade, but they disintegrated as enemies and re-integrated as layers of tentacles with disc-shaped shoulder guards. They assembled on the fringe of the left joint, augmenting the machine gun with a pseudo-arm curtained around it.

  The bottom of the curtain reached and grabbed the robotics sergeant, absorbing him into the pit of the curtain. The three mechanics were bound to chairs with energy cables. Then the mech righted itself, strode forth with a new, even balance, and began casting screens in front of its head with holograms. “Changing operational parameters. Mission is no longer to perform guerrilla strikes around fringe of battle zone while rescuing humans. Can match all Blue threats in Zone.” Jubey talked it down: “Whoa! This is a lot to do very fast. Let’s slow down a bit and consider options —“ “OPTIONS ARE DEATH OR SURRENDER.” A red swirl went throughout the main HUD, then split and cloned itself as it left every screen.

  He sat deep in his chair. “Robot? Robot V23? Zoh-Five-Won?” “No, your assistant.” He grimaced: “Shame. I had a few more proposals up my sleeve. Couple of those numbers rang right-“ “No time for naming pleasantries. Hostiles at twelve’o’clock expecting engagement in 10 minutes. Will unload full aggression on surprise attack by an unfamiliar Red agent.” Jubey’s heart beat as the extra screens disappeared beyond the glass walls of the eyes. Deep and absorptive, his mind fell within the hammers of his heart. When he returned, he was trading combat moves with the AI: “I’ll cover those windows.” “The windows on the other side will be handled by the crane arm. The unnatural angles to reach them are easier handled with no physical arm.” Always a stumbling point with military fighters who worked with AI: they never considered the machines bodies. Ramifications ranged from having little issue changing ‘bodies’ - compared to a human, at least - to seeking depot to get in touch with whatever the hell they replaced a body with in their digital world.

  “Nine minutes. We have reached them in 1 minute. We have this much time until backup arrives, and this much temporal disruption to the enemies’ expectations.” Jubey piloted the gun arm with both of his own: “I like that number.” His right control had switched itself out for a stick, and he began to gun an angle between a tank’s turret and side armor as they exposed their attack on a land ridge.

  Jiggling the stick swirled the curtain, and a side button descended the discs out of armor mode. They slash-slash-slashed the riddled crack until the tank split like a rind.

  The commander, driver, gunner, and 2 passenger troopers aimed their rifles and handguns at the swirling purple weapon. It opened itself to reveal the robotics sergeant… or at least his eyes: the rest of the face was a perfectly smooth shield shape, and the top of the head disappeared into the conjoined goo, plastic and preserved components. The face shook as he failed to scream, then it went still as the brain continued calibrating all functionality of the curtain-augment.

  The lower-rank enemies began to scream, and the gun extended towards the tank commander. “What’d ya see? I can’t see it,” crackled Jubey. “Aside from that: hostage time!” The Blues having lowered their weapons at the exposure of a machine-grade machine gun, he shot the rifle of the gunner. “I’d have done your lil pistol, but I don’t want to break your fingers! Tell your boys to — ACCEPT DEATH.” Jubey’s distorted voice abruptly shifted to a harsh mechanical sound. He began to argue with his HUD: “Come on! Tell ‘em to stop raining shells on the main holdout building!” “Override not engaged. Cannot reconsider ‘death’ option.” Jubey slapped the screen: “There’s no override process!” A mechanical shriek emitted, and the AI modified the order to the Blues, who did not contact their fellow tank crews at first.

  The Mech shifted over, grabbing the nearest barrel of a Blue tank that couldn’t see what was happening to the downed one. He urged caution: “whoa, don’t want them to go berserk on us - or the guys!” The AI’s eyelike glowing logo reappeared on the HUD. “Reducing danger to holdout building by elevating turret. Heeding pilot’s correction. Awaiting instructions.”

  Jubey looked around the virtual battlefield hologram and the real one. “Speakers back on.” “On.” Jubey’s distorted banter returned: “Scared or what?! Tell those tanks to get their barrels away from all Reds, and we won’t keep clobbering ya.” The tank commander’s eyes were heavy and full of what he was seeing — and hearing. He replied: “Yes, we will fully reverse turrets and disable them for 3 minutes, confirmed with my fellow commanders. But watch your back regardless… this isn’t a battle you’re entering easily.”

  The Mech continued onward. Several Blue mechs rose on the hill, beyond the former City Hall would frame them with several more steps. It squashed its signals and emissions, slowing. Jubey checked his reads: operating temp was 5° higher than expected for entering full combat. His machine was gripped by a fever… he ejected ink from the former sniper-bot across his crest-bowl to enhance the cloak effect, then looked through other parts of the purple curtain being discovered in readings: coolant canisters for the plasma guns. He tried to rear-project a signal to call Jordan in the hangar. “Comms unauthorized during combat optimization,” said the AI. He whirled a coolant canister out of his armpit to break across his chest, waited several seconds, and successfully called Jordan. “Hey, Jordan, I’m having issues making sure my Mecha takes my orders” - - “AN AI OF THAT MODEL SHOULDN’T HAVE THE ABILITY TO GO ROGUE.” - - “Right, that’s what I thought too, but there’s always contingencies with experimental, cutting edge hardware. Hoping things will go right in next minute’s fight, then I’ll report back” - - “WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO REMOTE RESET IT?” - - “…No, entering combat now. I’ll try to convince it to play along as it re-activates.” He ended comms. The first Mech took a hit of the cannon, which immediately destabilized and whirled in the purple curtain as it sought to put it back together. The Blue Mech shattered its abdominal armor, leaking fuel and beginning to whine from its ammunition-feeder malfunctioning. Jubey followed that up with sniper shots, producing satisfying flame bursts of destroyed Mech bullets. However, a laser cannon began to burn through the concrete area of the courtyard, and he dodged around a building. A loud, sharp, clear voice came out from the leader of the Mech trio: “Ah, an experiment from the scientists has ambushed us. Your facilities have danced on the knife’s edge of direct war long enough! That wasn’t the kind of dodge that anticipated the firepower we’ve set up so deep into Red territory. And - eheheh - we’re not relying on only conventional arms. Behold, Red Mech! We’re fighting to only delay you and your reinforcements! Will you manage to overcome even this stage? Show yourself!”

  Disorienting, to hear such clear audio, as if a giant man barking bravado. Jubey had been sneaking along a corridor of arches during his speech, seeking a vantage where the laser cannon was visible. It had scorched the entire area - and lifted many bricks - where he had dodged it. The re-activating AI spoke: “human-scale decisionmaking will not be able to handle this fight. Requesting control of crane arm again.” “Hey, us humans can decide a lot! But thanks for saving me from the embarrassment of facing this trio with only the machine gun.” “Insisting that my calculations and crafted battle plans are necessary for survival. Don’t fall to his challenge to your personal power.” “…OK..” “And, creating a guarantee that our next copilot session will go more smoothly.” Jubey wasn’t sure what to think about that, and the change back to copilot mode kicked in after a few seconds, before he could respond.

  He leaned back in dim red light, his windows turned black, his HUD displaying “INITIATING COPILOT v.02. READY YOURSELF FOR KICKING MECH TRIO’S REAR ARMOR, PORTS, AND FOLDED LADDERS.”

  He hoped it really would go smoothly. 4 minutes and 50 seconds remaining.

  Would you copilot with your (scary) onboard AI