1.30
With the low rumble of heavy machinery and the rattling of chains, the conveyor belt came to life, inching its way across the width of the warehouse, and after a few moments, allowed Cameron to lay his eyes on the first of his six prospects.
It was a deep glossy red, the same hue of a dying star, paired with thick lines of black onyx that ran the trim of its layered armor plating that ran from the shoulders to the waist, and billowing out around the hips. Its arms and legs were sleek and thin, as a thick, sleeveless field of fabric fashioned into a knee-length coat that fluttered softly as the massive mech swung on two large hooks. A high collar came up to where the cheeks would be on a human face, as two high prongs the shape of antlers rose an additional meter above the head unit, held in place with a black plate bolted onto the forehead. On its hip, a seven meter Katana gleamed in the light, its thin blade so sharp it looked like it could make even the air bleed.
“Meet the Ronin,” Morty said, gesturing with a hand to the mech that pulled to a stop in front of them. He waited until the chains that held it suspended stopped their rusty squealing, and once they did, he began his sales pitch.
“Manufactured by the Tadakatsu Syndicate in the early 2700’s, the crowning jewel of this beauty is its high-frequency Katana that vibrates at such a high frequency it weakens the structural bonds of solid, allowing it to cut deeper than most other blades in its class. On top of that, with a reinforced frame and fifty-six boost jets spread across the chassis, you’re not going to have a problem with speed.”
As he spoke, Morty had turned on a screen positioned directly at the bottom of the Ronin. All at once, a series of numeric values scrolled rapidly across the screen. Eventually, the values settled onto a series of bar graphs that Cameron had to squint to see while Morty spoke again.
“Don’t take my word for it though, here’s the initial Alpha class metrics straight from the proving grounds,” He said, pointing towards the screen and motioning for them to approach. As they did, Cameron’s settled on what looked to be a stat page.
Model: AX2Y-Ronin Manufacturer: Tadakatsu Syndicate Height: 9.23 Meters Weight: 111.92 Tons Variant: Assault
Proving Scores;
Armor: 2.3 Speed: 5.6 Agility: 7.4 Output: 8.2
Cameron’s eyes scanned over the information multiple times, trying to take it all in, as Morty’s voice rang in his ear, offering insight into the information that Cameron was consuming.
“The higher the score, the better. Ten is the absolute peak a unit can perform. One being the absolute worst.”
“Damn,” Logan said, his voice coming from the other side as he was seemingly looking over Cameron’s shoulder, “Those stats ain’t bad. What do you think Aurora?”
“I think if we’re gonna come all the way out here,” Aurora chimed in, “we’re gonna get the best. And I don’t think this is it.”
Cameron could hear Morty beginning to sputter in offence, but before he got a word out, Aurora had reached over and pressed her finger to a flashing arrow on the right-hand side of the screen. Suddenly, the conveyor belt groaned to life, chains rattling loudly as they began to move, slowly pulling the Ronin from where it was in the center wall, to the open hole on the right side, ushering it out of sight.
“Hey!” Cameron called, looking back over his shoulder to his stone faced mechanic, “I was looking at that!”
“Was and are are two different things,” She said, shrugging nonchalantly, “Now stop fucking pouting you primadonna, we’re shopping for you remember? At least take a look at all there is to offer.”
Cameron rolled his eyes, but did as she ordered, turning back to watch as the short, boxy build of a berseker slowly came into view, twin hand axes dangling from the hips, painted a chocolate brown with green accents.
“Indigo Industries Berseker unit,” Morty started to explain as the mech was slowly ushered into view,“Dual wield ax user, with a focus on boost jumping. It’s got some slight modifications to it, so now you can get a hundred meter vertical and and thousand meter long jump from a running start.”
Cameron whistled, impressed and was in the process of looking down to study the units stats, when it was Logan’s turn to jump in, pressing the button to drag it out of view before it even got a chance to settle.
“What the fuck?!” Cameron exclaimed, shooting a glare at the other pilot, “Why not?!”
“Weak gyroscope in melee,” Logan said with a shrug, “You’re already having to dodge all the melee weapons, a fist or shoulder tackle shouldn’t match the list of potentially fatal blows,”
“Who’s picking the fucking mech?!” Cameron said, veins peeking out on the side of his neck in frustration.
“Who’s paying for it?” Logan shot back, eyebrow raised expectantly.
The quip instantly exstinguished Cameron’s anger, and he quickly looked away, speaking to Morty after a sharp clearing of his throat, “Ahem… what’s next?”
For the next half hour the trio stood, watching as mech after mech was dragged out from storage and presented to them while Morty gave a synopsis as to their history and features. So far, they’d seen an Apache, a unit specializing in short range fighting with a self returning tomahawk axe, a Fencer with it’s long and thin rapier that was built on short, swift dodges and parries, and a Turbine, it’s dual scimitar sword style perfect for skirmishing with multiple enemies at once. One by one, each unit had been passed over, either from Aurora’s issues with quality, or Logan’s first hand experience facing said unit in combat. In the end, as the Turbine was hauled away, another victim of the pairs reluctance, Cameron was barely holding his anger in check.
“Guys…” He said, tapping his forehead against the railing, the cold metal vibrating with a hollow thud with every self-inflicted strike, “Please… work with me here. All of these units have been perfectly fine! It’s not like there’s something out there that’s going to be such a perfect fit that we need to keep passing up these cool ass units!”
“First of all,” Logan said, his tone sounding as irritated as Cameron felt, “If I’m buything this thing, I’m getting my fucking monies worth, I’m not going to drop all this silver for a mech that you can swing a dead cat and hit ten people that pilot one. Second, how do you know we’re not gonna find one that’s a perfect fit for you?”
“Because this isn’t a fucking fairy tale dude!” Cameron said, shooting up straight and turning to look at Logan, “I can make due with whatever! Just fucking pick one already so I can acutally pilot something!”
“Good things come to those who wait,” Aurora said in a sing song voice.
“I will hit a child!”
“Can everyone please just calm down?” Morty said, hands raised in an attempt to placate the bickering trio, “I’m trying to run a business here and you three screaming like a bunch of psychos aren’t exactly helping to draw in customers.”
“Did… did he just call us crazy?” Aurora said, jerking a thumb into the mech merchant’s direction.
“And you’re going to gloss over the fact your new pilot just threatened to hit you?” Morty asked in response.
“Alright! Alright! Enough!” Logan called out, instantly causing a hush to fall over the room, save for the industrial hum of heavy machinery in the background. He looked around, meeting the eyes of all present, before he let out a heavy sigh, closing his while he slowly massaged his temples. After a moment, he spoke, his tone soft and calm despite the irritation that existed between all of them.
“Morty… do you have any other assault variants? Or were those all there was to see?”
“Let me check,” Morty said, bringing out a data-pad from somewhere on his person as he began to tap and swipe away on the surface. After a few moments he stopped and grimaced slightly, before responding in an unsure tone, “I got one left but it’s a little… weird,” he said, looking up from the screen for a brief moment to meet Logan’s questioning gaze.
“Weird how?” Logan asked, voicing what was on the other’s minds.
“Well,” Morty said, sighing as he swiped back and forther on the screen, “It’s not a production model. Limited release, only a few hundred were made. Hell, the companies not even operating anymore. On top of that,” He trailed off, his eyes scrolling down the screen, seemingly reading something that had appeared relavent. “This thing had some custom order shit tacked onto it. I have it here in my records that it was dropped off about five years ago, for some reason though, they never came back,”
“Well that’s not creepy at all,” Aurora said sarcastically.
“Who was the pilot?” Logan asked, intrigue evident on his features.
There was another long silence as Morty checked his records, eventually looking up with a shrug, “Not sure, all that the files say is REDACTED,”
“Oh great,” Aurora said, throwing her hands up in irritation, “Act now and you can be the proud owners of a dead man’s prototype.”
Morty shrugged, looking nonplussed, as he stared at Logan, “It’s the last one I got, you wanna take a look at it, or not?”
It took him a few moments to come to a decision, spending the time in silent contemplation as he looked between Cameron and Aurora, before offering a shrug and a shake of the head, “Fuck it, go ahead and bring it out,”
“You got it,” Morty said, pressing a button on his data-pad as the familiar rattling of the chains started up again.
The group gathered together in the center, heads craned towards the storage entrance, waiting to be the first to catch a look at this mysterious mech.
“So what’s it called anyways?” Cameron asked, looking back over his shoulder towards Morty.
The man smirked, flashing a toothy grin as the a shadow began to form at the entrance.
“The Headsman.”
The first thing that Cameron laid eyes on, was the gentle waving of thick black fabric. It was old and frayed along the edges, littered with holes and tears that grew in the number the more the Headsman’s frame was hauled into view.
“Holy shit…” Logan said under his breath, awestruck by the fearsome machine that hung in front of him.
“I think holy is the wrong term here, boss,” Cameron said, matching Logan’s hushed tones with a quiet reverence of his own, “This thing looks like a fucking monster.”
It wasn’t its size or shape that caught the men off guard. In fact, by metrics alone, the unit was practically average in all aspects. Standing at a perfect ten meters in height, the chassis wasn’t going to stand head and shoulders above all others. Nor would it’s color scheme, sporting a dull gunmetal gray, with accent lines of the deepest black. No, it was everything else that made it uniquely terrifying. The large seven meter long black blade for instance, clutched tightly in rest pose by a pair of gleaming, claw tipped hands. Filed flat and wide down to a dangerous two-toned colored double edge, and lacked a point, eschewing the ability to thrust and replaced with a dull squared-off end. The bulk of the chassis was hidden behind a thick black poncho, its fabric frayed and ripped in various places, giving the unit a more imperfect and human quality to it. Until they gazed upon the helm, where, under the shadows of loose fitting hood, a bone white skull plate stood out prominently, hiding the azure tint of two sapphire eyes.
The Headsman was indeed a beast straight out of a nightmare. An amalgamation of metal, fabric and glass, shaped into a fearsome visage of death and destruction.
The trio of Cameron, Logan, and Aurora stood in silence for what felt like an eternity. So heavy was the quiet, that Morty’s clearing of his throat was enough to cause in echo in the open space, before he began to rattle off the Headsman’s history.
“Meet the first and last product that Harbinger A.R.M.S. Industries ever produced, The HAI-01 Headsman,” He said, sweeping a hand up to regard the machine before continuing, “Originally designed to function as a shock and awe unit, the Headsman’s modus operandi was based on one word; momentum.”
He reached up and knocked on the center of the flat black blade, drawing out a hollow clang that echoed in a deep resonating tone, before moving over to one of the sides and knocking again. This time, instead of a hollow echo, there was heavy thunk that seemed to absorb all energy and sound. There was no echo or resonating force, it was seemingly taken in by the blade itself.
“Tungsten carbide edges,” Morty said, looking back at the trio, “With a steel inner core, the bladed sections are flash welded onto the frame. Each edge weighs in around three tons. All together, the sword is about seven tons, which at face value doesn’t seem like much, but when you factor in the Headman's overall weight at just barely seventy tons, you’re essentially swinging around ten percent of your body weight with every strike.”
Logan let out an impressed whistle, “That thing would hit like a freighter.”
“Yes it would,” Aurora said, arms crossed as she gazed up into the skull plate, “To bad your arms would be out of their sockets from having the stop your arc.”
Morty grinned impishly, shaking his head while tsking at the young mechanic, “That’s by design, you see…” He began, hitting a button on his tablet that as he spoke. Suddenly a litany of tiny boosters began to flare, covering the Headsman from head to toe in an angry orange light.
“Why would you stop a swing, when you can carry the momentum into an additional attack?”
Logan was quiet for a long while, simply staring slack jawed in awe at the Headsman, looking quickly between Morty and the Mech before bringing a slightly shaking finger to point at the unit.
“H-How many boosters are on this thing?”
“Originally? four hundred and fifty.” Morty said nonchalantly.
“Four hundred and fifty?!” Logan and Aurora exclaimed together, looking again between the mech and salesman as he laughed.
“That’s nothing. Now it’s more like a thousand, now if you look here -”
“YOU PUT A THOUSAND BOOSTERS ON AN ASSAULT CLASS!?!” Logan cried, his shout ringing out even louder than the high pithced hum of the Headsman’s boosters.
Morty nodded, speaking matter-of-factly, “You bet your ass I did. The client wanted a minimum of two boosters for every joint, in order to maximize manuverability. Got the job listing for it right here. I think the thought behind it was to pilot it in such a way to follow up one attack with another, using a mix momentum and quick bursts of speed to deliver strikes from odd angles so fast that the enemy wouldn’t have time to register and block.”
There was another long silence before Aurora’s skeptical timbre rang out once again. “And your thought, in order to accomplish this task, was not to double, triple, or quadruple the maximum amount of boosters put on a mech… ever, this particular unit being the outlier, but in fact quintuple it?”
Morty’s grin grew wider, “Pretty damn ingenous if I say so myself.”
“No,” Aurora said, correcting the man, “This is by fair the most dangerous and moronic thing I’ve ever heard of. What kind of childish, backwater, adrenaline chasing idiot would think it a good idea to crawl into that deathtrap?”
“Logan…” Cameron said, reverance clear in his voice as he finally managed to pry himself away from gazing on the most beautiful machine he’d ever laid eyes on, speaking in a hushed whisper as he grasped at the mans collar, “I need it.”
“Oh… That idiot,”