Chapter 1: Unrest in the Sand
A hot wind blew through the Badlands, howling against the hot terrain, the sands acting like tiny razor blades that rend anything unlucky enough to be caught in such a storm. In this sector of the Badlands, these storms were very common, making it almost impossible to deploy infantry that didn't have the protection of power armor. That being said, no infantry were deployed in this sector, or at least not at this moment.
Lyra Heartstrings shifted her body a bit, getting cramped inside her Jager, one of the most well known Heavy Gears of the Allied Southern Territories. She had studied her machine, knowing it's odds and ends, and knowing it's history of being a copy of the North's Hunter Gear. The two Gears were very similar, and both being the basic unit in the category. If you piloted a Jager, you knew it was the pride and joy of the South. Though she just assumed they told the pilots that to make them feel better for having to pilot them.
In the machine's hands, Lyra inspected her light autocannon, making sure it was still in her metal grasp. Confirming that she had not dropped it while her mind went into space, she returned to letting her mind drift. Here in this, what would perhaps become her coffin, was also her most peaceful place of all. Something about controlling a huge metal biped from within it's chest felt way more secure than say...Sitting on her bunk at the base. Nobody could bother her too much when she piloted her Jager.
"General Purpose Cadre Sigma, report." Said a male voice over the radio, the owner of that voice being Captain Sentry.
"Ron Burton, clear." Informed the cadre leader, Ron Burton.
"Linda Bates, clear." Informed the cadre's light bazooka wielding mad woman, Linda Bates.
"Star Caster, clear." Informed the cadre's spiritual mascot, Star Caster.
"Lyra Heartstrings, clear." The mare informed over the radio.
"General Purpose Cadre Sigma, continue keeping watch as scheduled." Said Captain Sentry. "Which appears to be..All day. Have a good shift."
Lyra sighed for a moment, somewhat wishing she had trained to be an MP or something. She hated just standing guard out here where there is nothing but sand, dust, the driest dirt you'll ever see, and some rocks that vary in sizes from tiny little pebbles to massive boulders. Worst part was accidentally treading on a patch of shifting sand, and the terrain was too rough to use any sort of wheeled or tread mobility.
She turned her Jager's head, looking around as the dust storm continues to block her vision. Occasionally she'd move her legs, not wanting her feet to get buried. She felt comforted knowing that her fellow pilots were nearby, her sensors not failing so far. She could barely make out the shadow of the Command Jager in which Ron Burton was seated in. She wondered how he could just stand there, never seeing his Gear move an inch.
"This storm sure is something." She commented, still looking at the motionless Jager's silhouette through the dust.
The shadow of the Command Jager shifted a bit, it's green eye piercing through the dusty haze, looking at Lyra directly. "Sure is."
"Sensors picking up movement." Came the voice of Linda Bates. "I copy, my sensors are picking up movement."
The shadow of Ron Burton's shadow reflexively pointed into the general direction of Linda Bates' position. "Direction and distance, Linda!" Shouted Ron Burton through the comms as he readied his medium autocannon. "Huh!?"
Lyra jumped a bit as the motion detection system pinged. "I'm picking up moveme-hagh!"
Lyra's Jager fell backward into the sand below, a worm like beast springing up from the ground before diving back into the sand. Picking herself up, she noticed the shadows similar beings leaping like dolphins in order to navigate the scattered rockiness of the terrain. A herd of these things were stampeding southeast, surely not going to bother the base that was situated from the cadre's current northeast.
"Everyone stand down, they're obviously not a threat..." Said Ron Burton before hesitating. "Base, this is Sigma Commander, we have a heard of dune worms passing us. I suspect something is causing them to retreat toward us."
"Base here, sending a drone your way." Said a nasally voice over the radio. "Going to forward this concern to the nearest cadre. Please continue to report any oddities you see."
"Roger." Confirmed Ron Burton. "Everyone stand ready, I've seen situations start like this before."
Lyra snapped out of her stupor and readied her light autocannon toward the northwest. She couldn't make out anything in the dust blizzard, only being able to see so far until it became an incomprehensible haze of sand. She began to break a sweat as she stood there, her fingers trembling as the herd of sand worms diminished. For what felt like minutes, it seemed the storm began to calm down, a sinking feeling overcoming her form. Though it seemed like a speck, she could make out a distinct glowing blue eye.
"Contact!" Announced Lyra, firing off a few rounds at the eye's direction. "Three hundred and thirty one degrees northwest!"
Suddenly the eye moved, the shape of the Gear's body becoming more visible as it changes position. It began to return fire with it's own volley of rounds. Lyra Heartstrings and Ron Burton took to the nearest hill they could find, laying down suppressing fire at the enemy Gear. Star Caster's gun was not heard from, his blip on the radar moving to what looked like low cover. Linda's blip was rapidly moving to what Lyra recognized as a rocky hill.
"Damn!" Sputtered Star Caster. "I think I've spotted two more!"
"Can confirm!" Linda announced. "They appear to be Ferrets!"
"Star Caster, open fire on them." Commanded Ron Burton. "Linda, line up a shot and try to waste em' with your bazooka! Lyra, see that rock over there?"
Lyra looked to where the Commander pointed, and spotted a rock big enough to cover three of her. "Yes sir!"
"I'm going to advance to that position. Use your missile pod to cover me." He commanded. "..Now!"
As the Commander advanced, Lyra did as told. Standing up a bit, she continued to focus controlled bursts at the now two specks in front of her. With the press of a button, she began to launch multiple missiles toward the contacts. One of them jumped away instantly as soon as the missiles' streams of fire became visible, the other stood there almost motionless. Right as the missiles erupted, Lyra for a split second saw the evaded contact attempt to rescue it's ally. At least, that's what Lyra interpreted it as. The explosions kicked up tall clouds of dust and sand, obscuring the spot.
"Good, now go to Star Caster's position!" Said the approving voice of Ron Burton.
Lyra nodded, going as fast as her Jager could take her. With a loud PLING, her light autocannon was shot from her grasp, hurtling to her right. Looking to her left, she could make out one of the enemy Ferrets, which then erupted as a rocket struck it directly in center mass. As she got to Star Caster's cover, she could hear Linda let out a cheer. Positioning to Star Caster's left, she could see that he had been squeezing out pot shots at anything he saw move.
"Took care of one of the Ferrets, sir!" Linda announced as she loaded another rocket. "The other has ducked and covered, but I bet I can draw him out."
"Lyra has made it to my position!" Blurted out Star Caster, as a few shots ripped into the sand near him. "Looks like we'r-"
PING! Star Caster yelped as a shot had hit the right shoulder joint of his Jager, his light autocannon falling to the ground. Lyra forced his Jager to lay low, and snatched his weapon with her other hand. More shots began to kick up sand around the two Jagers, one smacking into a boulder not too far from them. She dared not to take a peak, the best thing to do would be to stay behind cover with Star Caster.
"Sir, Star Caster's right arm has been disabled, and I have lost my weapon." Informed Lyra, watching as Star Caster detach his lame arm. She held his light autocannon toward him. "Need this?"
"Nah, I'm no good with left handed firing." Star declined. "Besides, I still got a full missile pod, and it looks like you've run out."
Lyra checked her sides, noticing that no spare missiles were attached to her armored skirting, only a hefty vibro knife. "Damn, I guess you're right. Catch any of that, Commander?"
"Loud and clear." Spoke Ron Burton, his shots audible on the radio. "Stay low. Linda, have you spotted a fifth contact? It's not often the North sends out groups of four."
"No si- Wait!!" Answered Linda catching herself. "I think..Yes, I do! Clear as day, heading toward your position! One Jaguar, definitely their commander! I can't get a clear shot, it's moving too fast!"
Before Ron could say anything, the rock he had been using for cover exploded into shrapnel. He let out an incomprehensible series of swears as he fell down his perch. Where the rock had been, the cocky Jaguar landed from a rather powerful jump. As it lifted up it's gun, it recoiled violently as a few well placed shots hit near it's center. Lyra let out a few taunts as she continued to take shots.
"Come on!" Spouted the minty green unicorn, unable to get a precise hit on the enemy commander from where she was huddled. "Dammit, I can't-"
Lyra was thrown onto the ground harshly by an unseen force. There standing above the two Jagers on the generously high patch of sand, was a single Cheetah. Lyra realized it was one of the two contacts she launched a volley at. Star Caster desperately charged toward the assailant, only to get stomped on. With the Cheetah's attention on Star Caster who was now helplessly face down in the sand, Lyra grabbed the Cheetah's weapon.
"No no no!" She sputtered, trying to wrench the gun out of the enemy's grasp. "We're not gonna go out like this!"
Lyra Heartstrings noticed that the Commander and the Jaguar were also struggling in close quarters, and it appeared Linda was trading missile shots with the enemy Ferret. The Cheetah's gun began to get terribly scratched up at the metal on metal contact of Lyra's hands. The Cheetah being through with the mare's attempt at disarmament, fired it's gun, taking out a chunk of Lyra's left hand and her light missile pod. She fell backward as her grasp slipped, and she watched as the Cheetah continued to stomp on Star Caster. The Cheetah seeming satisfied with it's punishment, aimed it's left arm at Star Caster's V-engine, Lyra just noticing the mounted spike gun.
"No! I won't let you take him!" She screamed, charging the Cheetah, and reaching for her vibro knife she had attached to her left.
THUNK! Lyra had slapped the Cheetah's right hand away, and pierced the huge knife into the Cheetah's torso. The Cheetah recoiled away from her, the knife still stuck deep into it. Lyra let out a curse from under her breath, realizing she had struck the abdomen. It was enough though, the Cheetah struggling away from over the hill. Suddenly there was a loud explosion from her right, followed by sigh of relief from Linda.
"Nngh!" The Commander was trading blows with the Jaguar, having a hard time keeping up with the faster Heavy Gear.
The Jaguar hunkered down before springing back up, landing a strong uppercut on the Command Jager. It took a few shots on the Ron Burton with it's own medium autocannon, but ceased as a devastating shot took out it's right arm along with a good chunk of the chest's hull. It too fled as fast as it could, just in time for the backup cadre arrived on the scene. They too appeared to just be a general purpose cadre, similar to Sigma, except for the fact that their leader piloted a Black Mamba.
"Send out a drone to tail that squad, we have a cadre to recover." Said the unfamiliar voice of their leader.
Lyra breathed more heavily now, just realizing how exhausted she was from the fight. Her uniform stuck to her with sweat, and her body trembling. She watched as a Jager, much like hers, begin to gesture toward her. It took her a moment to realize that it was trying to get her to follow, since she was one of the two left standing. As she went away, she had noticed Linda doing the same with another Jager. What was different however, was that Ron and Star were being dragged, their Heavy Gears leaving paths in the sand.
"Sorry we didn't arrive here sooner." Apologized the Jager that was leading Lyra, it's ID reading as 'Bill Venture'. "Our equipment was getting jammed by an enemy drone."
"..." Lyra remained silent, just unable to get a word out.
"Not surprising." Linda replied. "They appeared to be a recon cadre. Very common for them to have drones up the arse."
Lyra along with General Purpose Cadre Sigma had been relieved of their current shift. Hearing it phrased like that had scared Lyra to the bone, but she was assured they meant that they were just receiving time off to recover. The cadre that had saved them, GP Cadre Beta, had taken their task for the time being. She and Linda were the only ones left still standing it had seemed. She worried about Star Caster and Ron, but Linda from across the room had told her that they were probably fine.
Lyra when in the barracks, tended to read a magazine or a good novel. But as of right now, her hands were too shaky to hold the pages steady. Linda on the other hand was enjoying her time, kicking back and listening to a radio with a pair of headphones adorning her head. It was somewhat annoying to have the person right above herself to the music. Linda was one of those types that always felt they had to get into it with the rhythm.
Suddenly, Lyra's ears perked at the sound of the doors opening from the end of the room. She looked up noticing it was Ron Burton, his right arm now replaced with a mechanical prosthetic. Lyra jolted upward, standing on her bed so she could reach Linda's leg, shaking it. The two now stood at attention to their cadre leader. A hint of sadness on his face.
"I have some news." He said, putting his new hand to his brow. "Star Caster has been critically injured, and I'm afraid he's been paralyzed...I know it's not official just yet, but it's what it looked like to me."
Lyra's heart ached with worry. She had been a member of Sigma for about three years now. When she was assigned to Sigma, she was aware she was replacing a fallen pilot. His name... She could barely remember now. She knew that mortality rates in Gear combat were rather high, not too often you'd see a confrontation end the way it had ended today. Something had always felt that Sigma would lose it's lucky streak at some point.
That night, Lyra Heartstrings could barely sleep. All she could remember was that damned Norther stamping Star Caster into the dirt. Something about that Cheetah stuck with Lyra. She could recall that it had a cutie mark stenciled onto it, such is the procedure when an Equestrian pilots a Gear. That one crucial detail was so hazy, yet she could remember everything else in extreme detail. She tightened her grip on her blanket as a tear rolled down her cheek. Whoever that pegasus was, Lyra swore she'd kill them. She had a feeling in her heart that they'd meet again.
"I'm getting heavy fire here!" Shouted John Davis, as he found himself pinned in a fight of missiles. "I don't know how much more I can handle this one!"
"I'm a bit preoccupied myself, you know!?" Grunted Cloud Glider, the proud leader of Reconnaissance Cadre Beta. "Ngh! Gah-err... Hey how are those two over there holding up?"
"^+@&#." The radio of the surviving Cheetah pilot's radio only replied with static, the communications equipment damaged from an explosion involving a whole volley of missiles.
The Ferret piloted by Davis was huddled behind a good natural barrier of rocks, and occasionally trading missiles with the enemy Jager nestled up on the ridge. He was in a panic, his metal hands smacking his light autocannon, cursing under his breath as he does so. BOOM! Another missile strikes his cover, shattering the surface of the rocks that had been baking under the hot sun. Popping up, he fired yet again at the high ground assailant.
"Pl-please! Just-.." John Davis begged at his gun, desperately trying to un-jam it. "I can't keep this up, sir! This Jager has me pinned!"
"@#*^!" The shrill noise of the damaged radio spattered onto the comms, followed by loud static.
Davis had began to panic, fairly certain that his Ferret would become his grave. He tossed his gun, beginning to make his retreat away from the carnage. He had already witnessed two of the cadre's members go out in fiery explosions, he didn't want to be the third. He took a look back at the skirmish, witnessing his comrades struggle in close quarters combat. He screamed loudly as two missiles twisted toward him, too late to dodge with his Gear's stubby body.
Lyra Heartstrings took a hefty chunk of a protein bar into her mouth. Each and every morning the Heavy Gear pilots must endure extensive physical exercise, hours before the sun rises over the horizon. The lights of the gym beat down on them with their harsh luminescence, getting every pilot's eyes adjusted at a fast rate so they'll be prepared for their Gear's optics. Every little thing that made this gym what it is has it's own little purpose, all of it specifically for the pilot's readiness for the day to come.
"How's your new arm treating you, sir?" Lyra asked as she began to lift a pair of twenty pound dumbbells.
"Well it's a bit much to get used to, I'll have to admit." Replied Burton, rolling up a sleeve to show the connection between metal and flesh. "I gotta say the hardest part is not scratching all..This..It itches like crazy."
"Any word about..Well you know." Asked Lyra, trying not to think too hard about their hospitalized comrade.
"Lyra, we just woke up about thirty minutes ago." Linda spoke up between stretches. "Besides, it's been a day since. I doubt we'll be getting anymore information for quite a while."
After about two hours of nonstop muscular and cardio exercises, the automated announcement for General Purpose Cadre Sigma's shift had pinged over the gym intercom. Business as usual, they'd exchange guard shifts with another cadre so they'll get their routine exercise. The base works like a well oiled machine, though it might as well be a washing machine due to everything running on a cycling system. They never really knew what this base was here for, for all Lyra knew it could just be the basic 'Really good stuff is in the ground, and we need people to guard it' type deals...Oddly enough she hasn't seen any mining or excavation equipment around here.
Getting their uniforms on, Cadre Sigma headed to the on site hangar. It was huge, had to be in order to store all the war machines. Every single Gear in the area had a camouflage paint job, as well as MILICIA iconography to show regiment. Lyra was never too thrilled about being in the MILICIA, seeing as how she had formerly trained to become a pilot. Most members in the MILICIA were conscripted, a lot of them having criminal histories. All of her training, so much time spent becoming worthy of being among the best of the best, just to have the opportunity taken away due to one little training accident.
As if her dreams manifested into reality, there stood near Sigma's Gears was a Jager painted with the drab colors of the Southern Republic Army. The group hesitated a moment as the Jager snapped it's head toward them. It's yellow eye like a spark of flame observed the crew. The Jager stepped aside, gesturing toward the team's Gears. Lyra could hear Burton gulp down his anxiety before approaching his machine. She looked at the stationary body that would have housed Star Caster, wondering if it'll be reassigned to another pilot as these machines inevitably due at some point.
"I see you were all unaware of the circumstances that will face you." Spoke the mysterious voice that sounded of a much more luxurious life. "My name is Rarity, and for the time being, I'll be part of your cadre."
"Permission to speak." Requested Ron Burton, his rank being overshadowed by the presence of an SRA pilot.
"Darling, there is no need for you to ask." Spoke the menacing figure. "Just think of me as one of your own cadre members...Well except for the part where I'll be giving you orders for now. Just be assured that I am not here to usurp you of your honorable duties."
"That's very generous of you," remarked Ron, still audibly paranoid and careful not to say anything wrong. "May I ask what..Circumstances will we be facing?"
"I will have to omit some of the more juicier details, but we have taken notice of a recent incident involving a skirmish with Northern forces." Rarity explained. "Reviewing the footage, I've been tasked with collecting you three for the purpose of a mission that..May or may not end poorly for you. I again must assure you, that we of the SRA are not punishing you for the incident, in fact we were impressed with the results. I can not confirm this, but it may end with you three receiving considerable reward if this mission is a success."
Lyra began to sweat even more than she did before at the gym. A looming dread began to overwhelm her, making her blood run cold. Here before them was an SRA pilot giving them ominous information in the early hours of the day. She had never done anything outside of guard duty before, and now she's going to be in a mission that leaves the bounds of just standing in a certain spot. To a member of the SRA, it must not sound that much of a big deal. To Lyra, this feels like a nightmare.
"Let's walk and talk, shall we?" Asked Rarity in a rhetorical fashion, gesturing for them to follow her. "We don't have time to waste."
The group began to follow the mysterious pilot away from the main body of the base, their steps being very audible on the asphalt with heavy thuds. Lyra took a last look behind her as they passed through a guarded checkpoint. The guards look to have been expecting their departure, none of them bothering to ask questions. It didn't take long for the asphalt paths to disappear, it being a luxury that only existed in the extensive inner jurisdiction of the base.
"Mister Ron Burton, your pilots are very well trained." Remarked Rarity, having read GPCS' files. "Not very common for MILICIA from what I've seen. This makes you three perfect for the mission. I suppose you'll want to know more about what you'll be getting involved with."
"Yes, ma'am." Said Burton, who was listening in on the two trailing behind them make private transmissions. "I, as well as the two pilots that serve with me, are all wondering what this mission is."
"I would expect you three to be concerned, but I assure you it won't seem so bad if I explained it." Explained Rarity. "We have reason to believe that reconnaissance team you fought were after something we'd rather keep a little secret. Right now, I am confident our very own reconnaissance teams are capable of blocking out any intrusive listeners."
Before Rarity could say anything else, Linda tapped into the briefing. "Wait.. Dusty Valley doesn't have any recon teams..."
"Correct you are, Linda." Replied Rarity with a bit of pride in her voice. "After we got wind of the attack, we've had reconnaissance teams set up around the perimeter until we can move in some better equipment. In fact, we'll be meeting up with one of them here shortly."
Just as Rarity had promised, they had come into contact with an SRA Reconnaissance Cadre. Lyra was not used to seeing anything other than general purpose or strike cadres, and the sight of four Iguanas standing near three destroyed Gears was a sight to behold. It took her a moment to recognize the machines that had been peacefully laying on the ground. They were all heavily damaged, their detached parts laid out near where they would have been attached.
The one to the left was a Northern Cheetah, or rather what was recovered from it. It's chest had been turned into a complete mess, leaving behind a burned out emptiness where the pilot was. In the dwindling light of night and the soon to be rising sun, the mangled machine seemed to be at peace. The two to the right were not in similar shape, their recovered parts were just laid out wherever they could be. Lyra knew what they were, but the machines were unrecognizable in comparison to how they looked in the battle. The two Ferrets were obliterated, even now they just looked like over sized roadkill.
After exchanging some words with one of the Iguanas on a private channel, Rarity turned her attention back toward the MILICIA that had been waiting patiently. "I trust you recognize these?"
"Yes, ma'am." Said Burton as he had taken a long look at them. "Sort of a pitiful sight now, aren't they?"
"It's what they deserved." Said Linda as she looked at the two Ferrets she had annihilated. "Serves them right."
"..." Lyra simply nodded the head of her Jager, as she was prone to making her Gear seem like it was just an extension of her own body.
"We did too." Said Rarity as she gestured toward the mostly intact Cheetah. "In fact this one right here was one we had on a watch list for quite some time. You see, we've had encounters with this team before, though those Ferrets are a fresh sight. We've seen them sticking their noses around other facilities in this region of the Badlands, one of them being a highly guarded base of the SRA which was just southwest of here. I'm sure you're familiar with the Siege of Fort McConnell, Burton."
"Yes, ma'am." He replied. "It was two years and eight months ago. I along with my old team were called to defend it, but ultimately we lost it to the Northern forces."
"Yes, it was quite the loss for us." Rarity replied. "I remember having to evacuate the remaining staff before the fort was completely destroyed. You have this Cheetah along with the two that got away to thank for that incident. We were fools to not have detected their presence back then, but now we've got a lead on them. In their haste to retreat from your reinforcements, they managed to get sighted by a team of ours. We've been sending out patrols for the current raider threat, so this has been quite the stroke of luck."
"Ah yes, the Diamond Dogs." Remarked Ron Burton. "Ever since we started smoking them out of their caves, those poachers have been lurking up this way. We haven't come in contact with any so far, thankfully."
"Well..." Said Rarity. "We might have to come in contact with..Some. In fact, I believe the probability is quite high."
"What?" Asked Linda. "What's so bad about some wee pooches?"
"You see, the Diamond Dogs have made contact with the..." Rarity shivers a bit before she continues. "Earth forces.. Our agents believe that the CEF are funding a revolution in the making. We've intervened in some supply shipments, but they've become more frequent and more guarded. We can ill afford going into battle with them, not here at least."
"I see.." Said Ron Burton. "So our mission is to hunt down the remaining members of that recon cadre, and possibly fighting some equipped Diamond Dogs?"
"In the most basic of terms, yes." Said Rarity, the sun's rising light gleaming off of her Heavy Gear. "Well...It seems we're all informed of the situation, I hope you're ready for what's to come."
"Wait!" Intervened Lyra. "So it'll just be us? For all we know, those Northers are already planning on coming back with reinforcements!"
"We've prepared for that, no need to worry." Reassured the confident mare. "Remember, we do have SRA cadres set up around the valley. To answer your concern about us, we will be grouping up with two more cadres. You'll be hunting down those intruders with the best the SRA can offer. You have my word."
Lyra nodded, a bit more confident now. After Rarity exchanged some words with the Iguanas, they gave a short salute before heading back toward the Dusty Valley base. As the cadre began to set out for the hunt, Lyra gave the Cheetah one last look. She noticed how at rest it appeared, as if it were a living being that was merely resting. Even though it's paint had been weathered, she could make out a cutie mark decal on it. Butterflies.
