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- Joined
- Jul 5, 2020
- Location
- Barsoom
In the year 2109, humanity had its first contact with the Astracola Gigas, gigantic Alien Monsters that arrived in swarms from an orbiting rift in our solar system. Their arrival was heralded by worldwide destruction of apocalyptic proportion. They destroyed entire cities in a matter of days with world militaries wholly unable to fend them off. The loss of human life was immeasurable. It was only by way of nuclear weaponry that the wave of creatures was ultimately staved off. However, the cost of the retaliation would leave the majority of the earth as an irradiated wasteland. What scattered aliens remained on the surface razed what was left of civilization and wreaked havoc on the state of nature. The remnant human race fled underground, taking shelter from the ensuing nuclear winter as well as the possibility of a second attack from the alien creatures. Entire subterranean communities would be built up in the years that followed, kept alive with advanced technology and agriculture. The fractured governments of the world eventually put aside their differences in order to survive a human extinction event and eventually went on to form the UNC (United Earth Colonies).
Less than ten years later, and a second wave of aliens was detected from sentry space stations that had been launched for the sole purpose of monitoring the skies for the extraterrestrial threat. The cosmic rift, having simply been named "The Gate", lies just beyond the planet Jupiter. Early observances theorized that the creatures were coming from within the gas giant, itself. This led to their nomenclature of "Jovians" being coined in their earliest studies. Despite the aliens' true point of origin being later determined to be from the rift, the namesake stuck, and the massive creatures are colloquially referred to as "Jovian's" by the common man.
In the decade that had transpired since their first attack, the remnant forces of Earth had scrambled to build Armored Combat Exo-suits (ACE). These crude and shambling mechanized vehicles were controlled by a single pilot, having locomotion of varying design, but most often traveled on two or more servo-hydraulic legs. On average, an ACE unit typically stood between 4 to 6 meters tall, with a great variety of customization ranging between personal modifications and the colony of manufacture. Not every underground colony had the means to manufacture these new exo-suits, of course. In fact, most did not. There were only a few facilities throughout the world that had the resources to undertake this defensive endeavor.
Having gleaned insight to the Jovian's weaknesses from studying the corpses of the first attack, weapons had been developed to hopefully be more effective in fighting them off. And as the second wave of invading monsters touched down on the planet, the underground colonies held their breath as their own forces were deployed against them for the first time using this new technology.
Days turned into weeks, turned into months. But when the last shot against the last standing Jovian was finally belched from its barrel, Humanity emerged victorious. They had fended for themselves once again, and hope manifested worldwide as renewed efforts went into the ACE programme. Outposts and Factories were set up on Earth's surface for ACE manufacture and training. These facilities were built far away from the colonial hab-zones so as not to incur targeting by hostiles. Collection of the second wave's carcasses showed that the Jovian's had adapted from the first attack, being more accommodated to the Earth's environment and biomes. They were mutating to better fit the battlefield. In return, a new generation of ACE vehicles were developed in kind: the MK II's.
While the MK II ACE units were superior in almost every way, they were also that much more costly to develop. But the subterranean colonies of the UNC did not function on the economic standards of the previous era. Money had fallen out of use under the scattered, new world government. Resources were distributed and allocated based on a Communal Meritocracy. A considerable portion of a colony's economy and society revolved around ACE pilots and combating the Jovians. Pilots were exalted in their colonial societies, often celebrated and given many accommodations. Decent Pilots were assigned to MK I ACE Units.
Excellent pilots were given the privilege of an MK II.
As Jovian incursions have become increasingly more frequent over the years, the demand for exceptional pilots has also risen. The Jovian invaders are also constantly adapting to the ACE suit's mechanical weaknesses and capabilities, making the aliens more and more difficult to defeat each time. The brave men and women of the ACE Corps are the only defense against the Jovians after they touch down on the planet, the continuity of the human race hinging on their continued victories.
Less than ten years later, and a second wave of aliens was detected from sentry space stations that had been launched for the sole purpose of monitoring the skies for the extraterrestrial threat. The cosmic rift, having simply been named "The Gate", lies just beyond the planet Jupiter. Early observances theorized that the creatures were coming from within the gas giant, itself. This led to their nomenclature of "Jovians" being coined in their earliest studies. Despite the aliens' true point of origin being later determined to be from the rift, the namesake stuck, and the massive creatures are colloquially referred to as "Jovian's" by the common man.
In the decade that had transpired since their first attack, the remnant forces of Earth had scrambled to build Armored Combat Exo-suits (ACE). These crude and shambling mechanized vehicles were controlled by a single pilot, having locomotion of varying design, but most often traveled on two or more servo-hydraulic legs. On average, an ACE unit typically stood between 4 to 6 meters tall, with a great variety of customization ranging between personal modifications and the colony of manufacture. Not every underground colony had the means to manufacture these new exo-suits, of course. In fact, most did not. There were only a few facilities throughout the world that had the resources to undertake this defensive endeavor.
Having gleaned insight to the Jovian's weaknesses from studying the corpses of the first attack, weapons had been developed to hopefully be more effective in fighting them off. And as the second wave of invading monsters touched down on the planet, the underground colonies held their breath as their own forces were deployed against them for the first time using this new technology.
Days turned into weeks, turned into months. But when the last shot against the last standing Jovian was finally belched from its barrel, Humanity emerged victorious. They had fended for themselves once again, and hope manifested worldwide as renewed efforts went into the ACE programme. Outposts and Factories were set up on Earth's surface for ACE manufacture and training. These facilities were built far away from the colonial hab-zones so as not to incur targeting by hostiles. Collection of the second wave's carcasses showed that the Jovian's had adapted from the first attack, being more accommodated to the Earth's environment and biomes. They were mutating to better fit the battlefield. In return, a new generation of ACE vehicles were developed in kind: the MK II's.
While the MK II ACE units were superior in almost every way, they were also that much more costly to develop. But the subterranean colonies of the UNC did not function on the economic standards of the previous era. Money had fallen out of use under the scattered, new world government. Resources were distributed and allocated based on a Communal Meritocracy. A considerable portion of a colony's economy and society revolved around ACE pilots and combating the Jovians. Pilots were exalted in their colonial societies, often celebrated and given many accommodations. Decent Pilots were assigned to MK I ACE Units.
Excellent pilots were given the privilege of an MK II.
As Jovian incursions have become increasingly more frequent over the years, the demand for exceptional pilots has also risen. The Jovian invaders are also constantly adapting to the ACE suit's mechanical weaknesses and capabilities, making the aliens more and more difficult to defeat each time. The brave men and women of the ACE Corps are the only defense against the Jovians after they touch down on the planet, the continuity of the human race hinging on their continued victories.
CHAPTER 1: Meet and Greet
A cascade of sparks showered over Audrey as she tapped an arc welder overhead. The red-orange spatter rolled off of the girl's APE suit, the industrial encasement protecting her from the molten metal as well as facilitating her ability to hold up the three hundred pound connecting rod to its anchor point on the frame of a Combat Exo-suit. The sixteen-year-old mechanic was on her third ACE unit repair today, and still had four more before her current queue was done. Her rate of repair was astounding, the chubby blonde getting nearly twice the work done as any one of her peers in the hangar. The girl lived and breathed Armored Combat suit repair. It was no surprise that the teams coming in from a sortie often sought her out first and foremost. But Audrey was already booked full today. The next team coming in would have to disperse their repair needs amongst the other available techies.
Of course, there was a bit of jealousy that circulated the repair bay. There were plenty of technicians more than twice her age that had been assigned to this hanger since before Audrey was born, and their sense of seniority brought along feelings of resentment when the young prodigy would invariably outshine them with her work. It wasn't that the other techies were sub-standard in their work. There was just no denying that the buxom teen knew her shit. The two Exo-suits blonde teen had finished repairing had been taken back to their stations at the other end of the hangar. They looked neat and sharp as a trio of apprentices had started to spray them down. They had prepped their grease injectors for an impending lube job. Audrey shot a glance in their direction, bringing the magnification of her Heads-Up-Display to spy on their follow-up work. She remembered her own days as a grease girl. Though, Audrey hadn't lasted very long on that tier of work assignment before being picked out as a Tech Mate.
Looking at the greaser's equipment, she could already tell they were using the wrong fittings for that particular model of Mark One's gyroscopic pin-wheel. She rolled her eyes within her visored helmet, letting out a frustrated sigh. There was nothing catastrophically wrong with what they were doing, but the mismatched fitting to the intake would not only make a mess, but also not fill the reservoir properly. The pin would function fine. But it would function better and for a longer duration if it was optimally greased. Audrey considered her position under her current repair job. The arc welder attachment was well-secured onto her APE suit arm; cabled to the generator as it should be. But that left her with limited mobility to move from her position to go and advise the apprentices. It would take her longer to detach the welder than to simply exit her suit. Audrey wasn't about to let the novices muck up her work! So, with a slap to the APE suit's chest, the breakaway harness popped the suit open like a blossom and Audrey unclipped her safety restraints. With a short jump, she hopped out from the APE suit, her pillowy curves giving a healthy bounce as her boots hit the shop floor.
Audrey made quick, determined steps across the vast length of the hangar bay, pausing and weaving to avoid large machinery and passing lift-carriers. Her short legs moved in rapid cadence, closing her in on the rookie grease team. She mulled over how to best approach the situation, weighing her options of coming off as being concerned or angry. She was the youngest techie in the hanger by at least six years. And despite having a flawless repair record, the older crew still had a tendency to brush her off. The pale teen was well aware that many of the senior techs saw her as little more than an accomplished child. Their attitudes toward her were always patronizing or condescending. Even these fucking greasers had a tendancy to give her attitude when she tried to correct their amateur mistakes. The irony was not lost on her. The pilots never gave her any issues, though. She was the one responsible for their ACE units running as smooth as glass.
No less than five paces away, the teen techie had decided to just chew out the group. If she went soft on them, they'd probably just ignore her again. However, that chance would get stowed as a figure intercepted her approach. Audrey halted her small boots in her tracks, as the familiar form of the Hangar Workboss, Roderick, loomed over her.
"Eh-uh... yessir?", Audrey stiffened a bit in the man's presence. She was generally given a wide berth of disciplinarian leniency on account of her excellent workmanship. But Audrey was no stranger to coming under fire for stepping out of her realm of authority. That being said, there hadn't been any recent incident that would call for a reprimand. No, the boss had tracked Audrey down for a wholly more important matter than letting her know for the Nth time that the Grease Crew had their own instructors to correct them. The Boss was here about her promotion.
"Harper, your presence is requested in Lounge C.", Roderick pronounced. His bald head shone with a polish under the hard light cast from the many shop lights in the bay.
"Fuck..."the chubby teen muttered, her green eyes cast downward at Boss Roderick's impeccable boots. The glossy leather shone just as brightly as his head.
Her stomach was a flight of butterflies. Two weeks ago, she had been requisitioned to become the Techie for a Pilot of a Mark Two ACE Pilot. Audrey had accepted, of course. No one turned down these opportunities when they came around. It was utterly unheard of. While Mark One combat pilots were elevated in status as revered "fighting men" of the colonies against the unwavering threat of Jovian invasion, Mark Two pilots were practically nobility in the population of the Colonies. They enjoyed so many privileges and accommodations and even had access to levels of the colony that most only heard rumors of. While a Mark Two pilot's tech crew personnel members weren't nearly as gilded, they definitely benefited from their intrinsic relation to them.
Despite the world looking up for Audrey, she couldn't help but feel a wave of near-panic at the thought of meeting her pilot. For the last two weeks, she had studied the Mark Two unit's mechanical intricacies. In many ways, they were much like the Mark Ones, only bigger and better. But functionally, they were almost exactly the same. Even though the offer had been extended to her to become an MK. II techie, she still had to pass the exam. For Audrey, it had been a breeze. Most took the two full weeks to study before testing. Audrey had done her test two days later and passed with flying colors. The hard part came now: Meeting her pilot.
As her boss waved her to follow, Audrey felt like her feet were made of lead. She forgot about her pending work orders, forgot about the bumbling greasers. She could only silently follow the wide shoulders and rhythmically clunking boots of her supervisor. The travelled put of the noisy hangar, down a long concrete hallway woven with pipes and conduit. After a few long and awkward moments, Roderick broke the silence.
"In the two years I've known ya, Harper, I've never seen you this quiet. You okay?"
"Just... nervous.", she admitted.
Nervous was an understatement. Audrey felt like she was going to be sick. But for the life of her, the young teen couldn't understand WHY she was so nervous. Logically, she was a shoe-in for the role. She excelled at her work like no other, and she knew it. This position was only a matter of time in finding her, and here it was.
"Don't worry so much. A lot of techies get nervous about meeting their Pilot. But trust me, he's just a man. Just like me, or Keenan, or Brent.", Roderick assured, looking back over his shoulder to make sure the round-faced teen was still following him.
"But you are Labor Admin. Keenan and Brent are First Field Mk I pilots.", Audrey thought to herself. "This MAN, was a Mark Two pilot. He's probably battled out in the wasteland farther than most of the colony even knew existed, much less would ever see."
"What if he doesn't like me?", Audrey blurted. She regretted the admission as soon as it had escaped her mouth.
Roderick chuckled, coaxing retaliatory snarl from Audrey.
"What's not to like?", they had arrived at the door to Lounge C. Roderick motioned her to step up to the sliding doors for ID verification.
"You're talented and amiable. You take orders well... most of the time.", he smirked.
Audrey stepped up to the white steel doors, offering up a retinal scan on her tippytoes to reach the mounted scanner.
"And you're cute!", Roderick added as a last-minute compliment.
"Excuse me?!" Audrey mocked offense, Roderick's mood putting her slightly more at ease. "That's hardly a way for a Workboss to talk to his subordinate.", she made an exaggerated scoff.
Roderick stepped back as the lounge scanner beeped in affirmation and silently slid open to receive the techie.
"Not your boss anymore, kid.", Roderick raised his hand to give the short teen a farewell salute. "This is as far as I go. See ya 'round at the launch gates!"
With that, Workboss Roderick turned to get back to the shop and redistribute Audrey's work orders to his remaining tech crew. Audrey, in turn, stepped through the door frame and into the lounge. She had no idea what to expect.
@captain_bond
