Chapter 1 - Integration
The hull of the Last Light screamed as enough energy to power a city poured into the Holepunch Drive. With a clunk the lights within the ship switched to crimson, accompanied by klaxons as the space infront of the Hound's ship was torn open. The ship's main thrusterbank thunked to full throttle, the ship lurching forward through the gash in spacetime…
…and re-appeared in Low Helgath Orbit.
The team of helmsmen in the bridge of the Last Light guided it towards the massive Anchorpoint, the ship creaking as the thrust-clusters spreads over the outer hull fired to keep the ship aligned and in the same orbital trajectory.
The lights throughout the vessel clicked off and then back to standard off-white as the Last Light completed docking maneuvers.
It was time to start anew.
-----
"So, what is the fabled Godkiller thinking about?"
Ichbaeld grinned as Foss grimaced from the name the Venetian infantry had given his Centaurii. It was insuferable even when he had only been called that by the soldiers, but soon enough the war networks had picked up on it and flashed the name onscreen everytime he showed up in footage.
"I think that name is stupid. I wasn't doing any better than other mercs."
"Oh, I think killing almost forty Godhands is pretty good, Raymond. Even if you think it was only because of the spinal gun."
"It was mostly luck, Ichbaeld. I only survived a lot of those encounters because I was fighting in the shadow of one of your machines."
"So you said in several interviews as well."
Silence fell for only a few moments, interrupted by the shuttle rattling as it touched down on one of the landing pads just outside Helgath Weaponry's main complex. A few seconds later the shuttlebay door dropped down as a ramp, letting light stream into the dark interior. Raymond felt his implants manually adjust his eye's light sensitivity as fast as possible so he wouldn't be stunned by the change in enviroment.
"Welcome to Helgath, gentlemen."
Raymond stood as Harjell and Ichbaeld did, following both of them out of the shuttle. The massive loading area infront of the main facility was filled with activity as other shuttles and liftcraft dropped off both people and equipment. Right off the bat Raymond was able to spot some of his fellow Pilots, some of the kitchen crew and a pair of Centauriis being unhooked from the Liftcraft's slings.
"All this dust is going to get all over our machines - Our techs aren't going to be happy after scrubbing them down to look as good as you wanted, Ichbaeld."
And dusty it was - Helgath was a desert world, albiet with a landscape mostly of sandstone than loose sand. The sun overhead was brighter than Sol and beating down upon the landscape without caring for the people on its surface. While it made it almost unbearable for someone like Foss who had been spending most of his time either on a ship or in the dark confines of his Centaurii's cockpit, it did leave almost every native Helgathan both almost immune to high temperatures and a nice shade of tanned.
"We're just getting them down for now, Foss. Our own techs are working on getting a hangar expansion onto the facility to actually house the units, and besides, top brass won't be here for a few days. I'll have our people rescrub them as an apology."
The three of them stopped infront of the massive gate that served as the main entrance for the facility. It had originally been built for two purposes - allowing free transit of mechs, and being able to withstand a nuclear blast. While it was still able to serve the first function there were many things more terrible than nuclear devices that enemies of the corporation would be able to leverage against the front gate.
Mechanical whining filled the air as the 150m tall doors slid into the walls. As soon as they opened enough to allow passage the three slipped through while the gates continued to open.
-----
Mech Upkeep Officer Mira Hopkinns' attention pivoted from the crew she was coordinating towards the sound of the main doors opening. It was hard not to miss the sound since it took motors the size of houses to move doors large enough to allow a MKIV to pass through.
"Alright, Leanord is in charge. Try not to drop the Coordinator Block - that thing costs more than all of your salaries combined and would take a year to remake. No pressure."
With that she stepped off the platform her team was standing on, the safety belay lowering her to the ground in a controlled fall. Hopkinns landed on the floor with a thunk and detached her belay line before making her way over to Ichbaeld.
"Officer Hoptall."
Ichbaeld turned to Hopkinns at the mention of his last name and gestured for her to stop saluting. While he enjoyed the military-esque structure of Helgath as much as anyone else he didn't exactly enjoy the air of command his position gave him.
"Officer Hopkinns. I take it everything is going smoothly on Gaseous Fury?"
Foss craned his neck up to look at the massive MKIV. He had only seen them from the perspective of his Centaurii - well, he had only seen one named Water's Wrath. Despite knowing how huge they were beforehand he was still amazed how tall they were when you were just a man on the ground. The 110-meter-tall war machine towered above everyone - and everything - else in the entry hangar, the massive network of tubing, cables and scaffolding encapsulating the machine making it almost seem part of the building.
"It's going alright, Sir. We're working one extracting and repairing the left Rotary Cannon Coordinator Block, followed by re-integration tests with the Pilot. If they wake up, that is."
"Coordinator Block?"
Mira turned to Foss and then pointed towards the car-sized block of steel and lights that was being lifted out of the MKIV's shoulder via ceiling-mounted crane.
"That's a Coordinator Block. The processing power needed to use a MKIV alone is enough to literally melt the brain of a Pilot, so use of the weapons and whatnot is given to Coordinator Blocks. They're advanced AIs integrated into the NeuroCradle that listen to commands from the Pilot in order to use the weapon systems so they can focus on not letting the mech tip over."
"I.. didn't know that. That would explain a few things I saw."
Mira nodded. "Delays in the weapons, being able to fire where the head isn't looking - it's a neat system, but it's hell to repair."
"Speaking of hell to repair -" Ichbaeld gestured out the open hangar doors to the Centauriis standing in the dust "- I'll have to have you see if there's anyplace to store the Centauriis while their hangar is being built. And see if you can get them painted to fit Helgath's standard scheme."
"Repainted? I th-"
Harjell held up a hand to silence Foss. To the Captain's credit he immediately shut himself down, but glared at Harjell. He didn't enjoy this transition and would be having a word soon which was fine with Harjell - he and Ichbaeld would be sitting down to speak about the integration together right after this, and Foss would also be in the room.
Luckily Mira didn't comment on the sudden tension between Foss and Harjell. She simply snapped off another salute and motioned to a few of the nearby maintenance people to follow her to the mechs standing outside the hangar alongside barking orders to find their Pilots as soon as possible to move them inside.
"We'll swing back around to make sure everything's going smoothly in a bit. For now, we need to get to my office and talk about the specifics of integration before we speak to your staff."
Foss turned to follow Harjell and Ichbaeld with a grumble, boots clicking on the floor as they walked towards a lift to take them above the hangar.
-----
Foss looked out the window, watching the construction mechs that had prompted the construction of the MKIVs put together the hangar for his Centauriis. Behind him Harjell and Ichbael sat on opposite sides of Ichbael's genuine wooden desk. The former was sorting through files on his InfoDeck while the latter was laying out papers regarding the Steelhounds integration into Helgath Weaponry.
"You said our maintenance people would keep their positions, yes?"
Foss heard Ichbael turn on the InfoDeck on his desk before answering Harjell, clicking through what he assumed would be paperwork.
"We would be making a new division just for the Helhounds. Your mechs, regardless of if you keep your Centauriis or upgrade, would keep your current labor force as the independent maintenance group for them."
Foss pulled himself away from the window and sat down in the chair beside Harjell, glancing at the Stockmaster's InfoDeck. The man was scrolling through months of financial records and material acquisitions in an effort to organize them into a monthly consumption report.
"Upgrade?"
Ichbael's eyes glanced up from his papers to look at Foss for a moment, not having seen him sit down.
"Yes. As good as the Centauriis are - and believe me, your group made them look very good - they were effectively a prototype rushed into production. We're working on a new frame called the Juniper."
"And when will that be ready?"
"Oh, we'll have a small group of test units ready within the week. We hope your Hounds will be open to assisting in their development via combat exercises."
Foss blinked.
"My hounds? I thought -"
"You thought you would be relegated to another expendable Pilot. I understand that, Raymond - but I, and Helgath in large, am content with letting you remain the Hounds commander. You'd get to greenlight missions on your own accord. Of course if you wish to refuse, you will have to provide adequate reasoning."
Harjell snorted at the last sentence, tapping away at his InfoDeck to begin a file transfer before shutting its HoloDisplay off and turning to Ichbael.
"Don't worry; I've been having him do the same thing for the last few months. He hates paperwork. Prefers getting shot at rather than being hunched over a desk filing a report."
"So.. Integration will be more just like a name-change and a new paintjob?"
Ichbael chrugged. "Pretty much. Your missions will come from higher up the ladder, but that'll be the main difference."
Silence fell as Foss took a minute to think. He had been under the assumption that he would be replaced by someone who didn't know proper combat, who hadn't actually been in a warzone. That he would be relegated to another Pilot, someone who had been worth money once but was now just another corporate pawn. That's why he had been abrasive to the idea of integration - he thought he was going to have the small amount of freedom allowed by being a Steelhound stripped away.
The idea had hurt, despite the fact that Foss knew he had asked for it.
Ichbael broke the silence first.
"That's a lot of tubing per month."
"Yeah, well" Harjell shrugged. "Turns out putting all the pneumatic tubing on the outside of the frame leads to it getting damaged a lot. Especially if your main enemy is one that creates giant vacuums that suck said tubing straight off the anchorpoints."
Foss winced. He had lost a few comrades to that - sudden tubing loss lead to joints not working, and becoming immobile. Some had been picked off quickly after that, although an unlucky few fell in such a way the boost tanks on the mech's limbs had detonated.
"Well it should come as good news that the Juniper has all that stuff inside the frame. We got a hell of a lot better at the material sciences for the actual structure after the Centaurii. Plus, the joints use special motors so there's no piston lag."
Harjell squinted down at a small stack of papers Ichbael had handed him, flipping through and reading the underlined sections. From what Foss could glimpse it mostly outlined the basics Ichbael had told him, just in more words.
"Alright, this works for me. We can get back to monetary pay once that's a thing again. Foss, are you good with all this?"
Foss nodded and Ichbael slid him another few pages. He signed them before passing them back.
"Excellent. In that case, I'll get this agreement fully drafted. Foss, I'll have someone see to you getting a tour. Harjell, if you can stay in my office for a bit - we still have to… catch up on quite a few things."
Foss nodded and stood, making his way to the door. He stepped out as quietly as he could and shut the door behind him with a click.
-----
"So, what do you think of Helgath so far?"
Foss glanced down at the person guiding him towards the Pilot quarters. Their name, which they had cheerfully said upon introduction, was Stanalay. And they were.. very enthusiastic about meeting him.
"It's… very dry. Dusty. Hot."
"Maybe, but it gets better once you get used to it. You'll see once all your stuff is done being transferred - you'll get to hang around the facility for a bit. Make some friends. Maybe you need a few of those, aye?"
Foss grumbled, but Stanalay was correct. He had at most three friends, with everyone else either being inferiors who had to be nice to him or people above him who didn't have to acknowledge his existence. Silence settled as they walked down the steel corridors of the Helgath facility. It felt like they had already been walking for miles, but Foss knew that was likely just because there were no distance markers to show how far they'd actually gone.
"You know, I used to be on the coordinator team for Water's Wrath."
Foss stopped in his tracks, turning to stare at Stanalay. The guide shifted under Foss's gaze, turning away slightly.
"He spoke… very fondly of you."
Foss cocked an eyebrow. "How so?"
"He would refuse to deploy unless he knew you were going with him. Said he felt… safer."
Stanalay turned the clipboard and began to walk again, head bowed. Foss turned to catch up with him and fell into step beside the shorter Helgathan. Silence fell once again, their footsteps echoing down the deserted halls.
It was odd how desolate this section of the facility was. However, Foss could gleam from the general state of it that it was relatively new - likely having been built to house a future employee expansion. It would instead mostly serve to house the nearly three hundred people from the Last Light and all of their equipment.
"Are there others like him? Here?"
Stanalay nodded. "We've recovered nearly thirty already. We're getting the rest over time - since Venus is basically gone, we're just retrieving all the MKIVs from their operating areas."
"Including the…"
"Including the damaged ones, yes."
An uncomfortable silence fell on them as they continued to walk. Gradually the long hall shifted into a habitation area, doors lining the walls as it opened into a large square common area. It went up for several stories before terminating in a massive windowed roof. The sky was transitioning from the hazy oranges of late noon to the deep crimsons of sunset overhead, the stars beyond twinkling in the dying starlight.
"Well, I should be off. Your room will be labeled with a 52 - I'm not well versed enough in this wing to actually… know where that is. Have a good rest of your evening, Mr. Foss."
Stanalay extended a roomcard, of which Foss took. Stanalay offered a very slight nod before turning around and setting off down the hallway they had come down to get here.
Room 52.
Foss turned to look at the multitude of doors in the wing and sighed.
