The moment the clamps were properly engaged, the crew onboard La Azul let out a small grunt as they felt themselves synchronizing to the dockyard's axial rotation. Suddenly those floating felt their legs touch the ground as the spin gravity kicked in, gently pulling those standing down. Though there was still a sense of weightlessness to it all, more akin to low-gravity than anything else.
So in a way, the mechs that exited the opening hanger doors still glided across the floor. They were the standard Everest models utilized by the Half Committee's regulars, only slightly different from army modules by the focus on void combat over anything else. That took the form of EVA modules and automated flight aids that were definitely made for the operations in the vastness of space, alongside specific anti-ship weaponry like T-2 beam rifles.
There was one exception among them, that being Lieutenant Aoba's own steed. Despite being a ship commander, she had her own mech herself, a very uncommon one at that. The Chomolungma was a rare production of the Everest, featuring internal systems more tailored towards a more support and reserve role than the typical frontline assignment that its source model naturally gravitated towards.
However, given the way she hefted her own custom beam rifle, it was clear that the officer was going to be part of the vanguard. She certainly wasn't going to be left behind on her ship while they stormed the carrier and station, that was for sure. Inside her cockpit, Aoba beat a rhythm into her seat as she watched the marines move with lacking speed. "C'mon, get moving! I want to be sitting in my new ship come end of the day cycle!"
"So sure that you'll be taking command?" remarked her colleague with a laugh. She rolled her eyes at the camera feed, earning another chuckle. "Well, I'll put in a good word for you with Ibutsu if that happens. Maybe you'll get lucky."
"Maybe I will, and then it'll be your turn next, you hear? I'm not leaving you to hang."
"I appreciate the thought. Don't let the locals stop you."
"So far, there's not much of a resistance. Or even a reception,"Aoba commented and swapped to the general broadband. "Major Rowles! Is this your idea of a good host? Not much of hospitality over here!"
Static was the only response she got and the woman scoffed, swapping back to the private channel. Only to find that it too was just pure static, causing her to blink and frown. "Bridge, are you there? What's going on with the long-range?"
"I don't know ma'am, might be just a technical issue,," replied her comms officer. "We're trying to run a diagnostics, will you wait for a report?"
"Bah, short-range still works, and that's all that matters. But I guess mapping is shot."
"That...is correct, ma'am. You've only got local navigation, no full station display." A tone of suspicion was creeping into her subordinate's voice. "Could this perhaps be local interference?"
Aoba snorted loudly and shook her head. "They wouldn't dare, because the moment something goes wrong, Sieg will shell the station. Let's seize that carrier already." She hoisted her rifle in a dramatic show before the assembled mechs and infantry. "All forces, with me!"
They let out a cheer and followed their commanding officer deeper into the orbital facility, into the unknown.
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"Commander." Veronica blinked, avatar flickering slightly. "Proximity interference achieved. Long-range communications temporarily disrupted."
That had been a bit of a gamble, given that electronic warfare wasn't her specialty, but she'd somehow pulled through. I exhaled loudly. "Great work. Now it's all up to Erica and Rowles."
"Sir, berth clamps disengaged," Feng reported. "Should we engage engines?"
"Captain, hold on for a little bit longer. Wait until they commit."
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They finally arrived in a large space that might've been reserved for some sort of park or commercial zone for the inhabitants of this orbital facility. Except instead of seeing a transported ecosystem or mimicry city center, what they found had weapon safeties calmly flicking off. Because there was no mistake now, this wasn't a civilian station.
It could only be a military one now with Everests on the other side milling about too, alongside infantry of their own as well. Army models, featuring weaponry and protections more suited for terrestrial combat than vacuum operations. They all bore the mark and identification signature of the system authority too, with no allegiance anymore to the Half Committee despite still bearing an insignia of the Seventh Expeditionary.
At the head of them was an Everest with officer markings. They pinged for a direct connection to Aoba and the lieutenant accepted with a growl, already knowing who it was. "Major. What is this treachery."
"Treachery would be firing into your backs as you came along but, because we will not be the one to incite hostilities, we instead are marking the line in the sand that you cannot cross," the army rank declared to the fuming naval officer. "We told you that you may search the rest of the station if you'd like to see if we are harboring Harrison Armory. But you may not cross this boundary that leads to the carrier in berth."
"Have you gone mad, Rowles?!" Aoba's Chomolungma raised its rifle and pointed it at the enemy line. Her command swiftly followed, both man and machine quickly taking aim at their former colleagues with only the slightest of hesitation. "You're throwing away your future under Vice Admiral Ibutsu! Are you sure you want to do this!"
The defenders mimicked the gesture with no such pause, readying themselves to hold the declared border so. "My answer is also a question," Rowles calmly responded as she aimed her battle rifle downrange. "Commander Moores is forging a future for all of us. Asking all sort of difficult and uncomfortable questions that no other would, because we have to face the truth- and find our path forwards!
"Lieutenant Aoba, I make this offer only once with the backing of Commander Moores and the provisional Cavia Committee! Stand down and withdraw all your forces from our territory-!"
"Go to hell, you traitor!" she roared and pulled the trigger of her beam rifle. It spat a bolt of ionized energy at the defenders and they instantly responded with a roar of bullets. Her soldiers followed in kind and soon, battle was joined.
A cacophony of gunpowder and burned cells later, Aoba realized things weren't going her way. Her unit's mobility, they were confined in this tight station! "Bridge! Try to connect to John's Widow, tell Lieutenant Sieg to send his wing in now! We'll overwhelm them together!"
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"What?" The armrest trembled as the man squeezed with growing anger and fury. "Aoba ran into resistance?!"
"T-that's what she said!" the comms officer of La Azul frantically repeated, voice tinged with heavy interference from the local jamming. "She's engaging army forces and it sounds like she needs your wing to overcome them! Something about the tight spaces messing up their mobility!"
...If they were army units of the Half Committee, then it made sense. While the mechs were typically the same, Everests having been the standardized chassis across all branches of service, it was their different loadouts and specializations that mattered in such a close match-up. Quite unfortunately then, these wings of the Fourteenth Mixed Fleet was at a disadvantage here in an even engagement.
Their pilots were used to fighting in the great expanse of space where even debris could be measured in entire lengths from one another. But the army, they were definitely very capable in close quarters combat which this was. In which case, Aoba's decision to perhaps try to bury the enemy in steel was the right call.
Still, Sieg had reservations about this and at least gave some thought to alternatives. Perhaps if John's Widow were to instead fire upon the dockyard to disrupt the spin gravity, or if his own wing complement were to force entry a different way- no, the station's structure wasn't in good condition. He couldn't risk destroying the printer. He was the one who argued caution anyhow.
...Very well, if it was just a matter of local resistance, then numbers would surely overwhelm them. He was half-tempted to rally up his marines too and send them via shuttles over, but the mechs alone had to be enough. They'd enter through the same hanger that La Azul was tethered too as well, making sure to keep an escape route to the ship clear in case the local fools decided to do something quite reckless, like dialing in the self-destruct sequence.
Because honestly, if he were in their shoes, he'd do it too. That was the only sure way they could win, no?
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"Lesser sensor readings converging on the orbital facility above Cavia I. High likelihood of full wing commitment."
"Then that's it. They've taken the bait." I exhaled sharply and gave a crisp nod at Feng. "I've done all I can. It's up to you now."
"I won't let you down sir," he promised and began to rapidly tap at his seat's interface. "Engineering, maximum thrust! Helm, get us clear and ready!"
"Aye-aye, sir!"
I supposed this was when I should be nervous as I gripped the armrests, feeling Half-Measure shudder and exit the hidden berth above Cavia II. This was going to be 'my' first real battle since waking up, but I instead felt calm and resolved. The proper bearing of a naval officer was drilled into me it seemed, to present a cool and collected front even as we flew into war.
Hm. Not to say that I was going to get addicted to it, but I certainly could get used to it. I craned my head to the side to gaze out the bridge window, taking in the sight of our escorts breaking free from the dock as well to fall into formation. Now our forces were assembled, and ready to strike, though Feng had wanted to maximize our element of surprise even further via a daring nearlight arrival to achieve a certain band range.
Something that I guess would've been a dice roll back when this had been a pen and paper game. But well, at least I could stack the dice in my favor by quietly directing my adjutant to assist in the matter.
"All hands, general quarters!" the frigate captain barked before swapping channels. "Navigation, do you have our jump plot?"
"Almost done," Veronica helpfully reported in their place, digital eyes glowing as she involved herself in the process too. "Making final corrections. Alert: Our reactor emissions are now visible."
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"S-sir! Lieutenant Sieg-! We've a reading, coming all the way from Cavia II!"
"Isn't that just the orbital dockyard there too-"
"No, they're ship signatures- Capital ship! Sir, there's a capital ship among them! It's Half-Measure!"
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"Navigation calculations complete. Data sent to helm. Plot locked in."
"Then it's time." Feng glanced my way. "Sir, with all due respect, you should have the honors. This was born of your genius."
Huh? Eh? Wait, which means, that if this happens to go disastrously wrong, this all gets blamed on me! Oh stars, was this setting up some sort of revenge-plot where my 'incompetence' has our ship ram into the station to piss off a Lancer-!
"Commander Moores." Veronica turned to face me and looked at me in the eyes. Slowly, her head bobbed in an oddly reassuring manner. "Rest assured sir, I've looked over the coordinates. We will be fine."
...Fuck it, let's do this.
My arm drew back, then snapped forwards, finger pointing to our distant home planet in vision. "Engage!"
The helms officer pulled the lever and the stars became blurs for a brief moment. Half-Measure along her complement of escorts suddenly accelerated into something almost like the speed of light for a brief moment and then, just like that, the ship suddenly dropped out of our hyper-accelerated velocity a scant second later. The inertia dampeners kicked in to greatly reduce the impact, but I still felt my body straining against my seat's restraints. It was quite a lot like a car at cruising speed suddenly slamming on the brakes.
To follow up on that analogy then, we'd now be rolling down the windows for a fight as Feng wasted no time. "Get me an immediate report. Did we lose anybody in the jump?"
"Initial returns indicate a negative sir. No injuries or casualties."
"Another clean trip, keep up the perfect record. Bridge, report."
"Sir, sensors and navigation scans are back online! We've dropped out...exactly where we want to be!" the officer reported excitedly, the cheer quickly spreading among others. Myself included as I grinned wildly, 'knowing' that we'd just netted a massive advantage despite the difficulties.
Well, I guess in the game slang, I had enough advantages to override the disadvantages, and still had positive dice to apply afterwards.
"Gunnery reporting! Sir, our crews already have John's Widow locked on and in their sights!"
So could I, actually seeing the flash of color that was the enemy ship against the backdrop of blackness that was space. I could also see how it was exposed, vulnerable, their mech wing diverted and committed to trying to aid their comrades within. Would they have time to realize what had happened and try to rush to the aid of their mothership? Or would they commit and try to at least take the station, hold it as a possible hostage against us?
I didn't know, but that part of the plan was entrusted to the ones fighting within the orbital facility. For my part, or rather that of Half-Measure, we needed to at least disable or chase off the remaining active frigate. Something that my captain very well knew and was already barking out orders to load the guns.
A weight seemed to suddenly rest on my shoulders and I found myself triggering my mag-lock boots, using them to safely rise out of my seat and stand up. I walked over to one of the railings on the bridge and stood before the ledge, hands tucked behind my back as I observed the battle on a much personal level. A few steps closer to the fight that spanned great distances.
It was a silly thing, I knew, but at the moment, I couldn't help but acknowledge. That people were going to die at my hand. So I followed all proper etiquette and courtesies. "Veronica. Establish a connection with John's Widow."
"Yes sir."
We didn't have to wait long before the link was accepted. The image of a snarling officer with lieutenant pips appeared on bridge's main screen, one who I greeted with a slight incline of my head. "Lieutenant Sieg, I presume?"
"Commander Moores. I knew it, that you were lurking around somewhere! Come out to gloat?"
"No, but I see that you realize we have you at a disadvantage. So I will offer you the chance of surrender in good conduct. I will guarantee that you and yours will be afforded all rights as prisoners under the laws of war."
"Under the laws of war, deserters are to be court-martial and shot! That's the only grace I'll afford you, traitor! You won't best me."
"...I see. Negotiations have broken down." My aide took that as the cue to immediately cut the connection and I turned to Feng, who was looking a little impressed. I suppose showing that I knew the tradition of offering surrender terms before battle won me some points. "Captain, you may engage when ready. It is your ship; fight however you see best."
"Yes sir." This time, I wasn't given the honor as the man barked out rapid commands to his sailors. "Engineering, ready for retrograde! Sensors, acquire targeting fix! Gunnery, final checks!"
I returned back to my seat and sank into the material, imaging it now in my head. In the reactor room, people covered more in machine fluids than sweat worked to swap power channels and coax out more from the engines. On the bridge, officers worked quickly to stream targeting data and approach solutions. Within turret chambers, astronauts sat in gyroscopic spheres lined up their screens with the targets and laid their thumbs on the button of their control stick.
But those mentioned weren't the only ones at work. All through Half-Measure, both human and robot were in action, handling a myriad of tasks that were sure to arise as issues come the battle. Even the lowliest gallery grunt was hastily stowing away utensils for safety. Or perhaps they already preparing snacks to distribute to the crew to make sure every sailor was fed even as they fought for their lives.
The only one allowed to be still was me. And I was anything but, leaning forwards in my seat to watch Feng run through the preparations one final time. He found the prepared opening finally satisfactory and gave a single, stiff nod.
"All hands, brace. All guns, fire!"