122: Mecha Combat – Five
For the sake of their own mission while on Trowsorab, the crew of the Pelekys send Viatrix out in her stealth drone once more, this time to scope out the ground where the Elstree Docklands Tournament would be held.
Thankfully, it was closer to their destination, so they didn't need to sit up half the night waiting for Viatrix to arrive.
"Okay, they've definitely got all types of scanners up and running, even now," Viatrix told them as she made her first pass of the site, whispering despite the fact she was speaking directly to them, and not actually out loud, "Erkanschlde did say they were paranoid about sabotage, and I'm picking up on all kinds of ways they'll be looking for anyone sneaking around. They haven't reacted to me or my scans, so that's something? Transmitting what I'm picking up on now."
From her usual seat at one of the gunner stations, Malakh's eyes darted over the information coming in, Rhea reading over her shoulder. Beyond them, the walls of the bridge showed the exterior of the ship once more - a quiet night, the stars mostly bled from the indigo sky thanks to all the light pollution coming from the cities in the distance, even at this past-midnight hour.
Malakh let out a disgruntled noise before saying, "I was afraid of this - they've got scanners that will detect if anything demats within an area, and it looks like they're watching the entire grounds, including where the ships are going to be parked."
"Makes sense if they've had a history of foul play," Rhea pointed out, a hand idly carding through Malakh's mane, "Just means we'll have to be clever with how we get out of the ship to conduct our heist."
Leaning forward in her own seat, Pryseia turned to the pair of them and said, "We have a stealth shuttle now. Would it be possible to attach it to the hull in some way, then exit via an access port? Less conspicuous than opening up either our personnel or cargo doors."
"That might be our best bet," Malakh said, shooting her a look before she turned back to the data Viatrix was sending over, "The shuttle's engines are a much lower yield than something the size of the Pelekys, so I should be able to dampen their output enough that we wouldn't be picked up if we do a slow and careful lift off and landing. The range on their scanners… looks like they don't extend beyond the tournament's grounds, so we'll be able to make the journey to and from the Dariyaschlde Institute at speed, at least. That'll cut down on the time any of us will be missing."
Turning to Pryseia, Rhea added, "And that's something we'll have to decide on - who is going to go to the Dariyaschlde Institute, and who's staying behind to act as a distraction?"
"Given that I'm going to be piloting in the tournament, I will doubtlessly be under greater scrutiny than the rest of you, so I will need to remain behind in order to avoid suspicion," Pryseia said as she leaned back in her throne, not sounding very pleased by that necessity, "And given that she's our foremost technical expert, Malakh will be vital for the success of our heist, thus she will be needed there."
"And given that we're just doing a quick in and out job, I don't think I should have more than one or two accompanying me," Malakh pointed out, shooting an apologetic glance at Rhea as she said, "And I think your talents would be better suited here, drawing attention."
"Yeah, I was thinking that too." Rhea agreed, running a thumb along the slope of Malakh's shoulder as she lay her hand there, "Vi would be a safe bet accompanying you, especially with that stealth drone."
"And thanks to my signal's range, I can keep you all up to date on how the mission is going." Viatrix provided.
"Then I would volunteer myself as pilot," Nevara turned her seat to face the others, "Given my own expertise in that field."
"Plus, you've done your own fair share of infiltrations," Malakh said with a grin, "Like that job on Vars 088?"
Nevara grimaced at that, looking to Rhea as she asked, "The term your people use is 'shitshow' is it not?"
Rhea barked out a laugh at that, saying, "Sure is! That was that Meleten border world that you two were stationed on, right?"
"Until our commanding officer's incompetence all but sent out a signal flare to the entire Meleten Empire." Nevara said with a roll of her eyes.
Turning to Elytra and V'tala, Malakh explained, "It was a listening outpost for the Thalatte, but when the Meleten attacked it, we had to abandon everything to get out, including some very sensitive information that should not have been left behind. Nevara and I were part of a team that was sent in to retrieve said information before it could fall into enemy hands."
"Which we did, despite the impossible odds," Nevara added as she turned to the two of them, "It was supposed to be a suicide mission for all involved, but somehow it was only our commanding officer, who had been sent to redeem themselves through an honourable death, who did not make it back alive. Such a pity."
"And such a shame that a copy of those sensitive documents was found on their body, which we had been ordered to leave behind." Malakh's grin was vicious at that announcement, "Gave the Meleten quite a leg up for their resistance efforts."
"Good." Elytra grinned back.
Turning to her and V'tala, Pryseia said, "The pair of you will be part of the distraction detail. Unless you feel the urge to accompany the infiltration mission?"
"I think I'd be more useful here in a crowd." Elytra told her.
"And as much as I loath a crowd, I don't think I'd be of use on this mission," V'tala said, "We're trying to avoid open conflict with anyone outside of the tournament, after all."
"Very well, we shall mingle while you three are away." Pryseia said decisively before turning to Malakh and asking, "How difficult would it be to mount the shuttle to our hull?"
"Not difficult at all, thankfully," Malakh said, typing up something on her console to bring up a blueprint of their shuttle on the main view screen, blocking off the patch of sky it was projecting, "The model we have is specifically built for boarding parties, so its got clamps that will anchor it securely enough to not be knocked off even if the ship were to make the jump to FTL or subspace. I can park in over one of the access ports along the top of the hull before I go to bed tonight, and it'll just look like another part of the ship."
"Fantastic," Pryseia breathed, "Please see to that promptly. Vi, be as thorough as you can with your scans. I don't want any surprises while we are separated."
"Don't worry, I'm going over this place with a fine tooth comb," Viatrix promised, "There won't be a security measure they have that I won't know about!"
The grounds where the Elstree Docklands Tournament was to be held were the artificial sort of pristine greenery one finds at a golf course, the perfection of it no doubt costing more than a pretty penny. Just one of the myriad ways the Necupole flaunted their wealth - wasting it to maintain an artificial landscape, rather than let nature take its course in the place.
There was the arena where the matches were to be held. A sizeable thing surrounded by stands - less stadium seating and more private boxes with air conditioning and catering. Beyond the arena were two buildings, one large and artful, the other small and plain.
"Three guesses where people like us are going to be kept, but you really only need one." Rhea quipped, eyeing up the buildings on the main view screen as Nevara brought the ship in for a landing on the swath of land that had been designated as their parking spot for the tournament.
Elytra couldn't help but compare the two buildings with a frown. The larger one, clearly meant for the Necupole CEOs that would soon be waging bets against one another, was an artistic masterpiece. Following a similar design as the MGJX lab they'd first encountered on this world, the architecture of the building drew heavy inspiration from crystal formations. Unlike the jagged sharpness of the MGJX building, this one looked more like hexagonal pillars rising from the ground at varying heights, its structure wrought in chrome and glass. And again, despite the afternoon sun of this cloudless day beaming down on it, the building barely reflected any light, the mirrored surface of the glass obscuring the interior of this building from the outside world. It towered over the squat building next to it.
Still following the hexagonal design of the main building, this one was only a single storey, clad in a white material that reminded her of concrete, rather than the crystal splendour of its larger companion. Next to it, this building looked like little more than a shed. Elytra wouldn't be shocked if it was as bare as one too.
The moment they landed, armed guards trooped out of the nearest exit of the crystal building, marching straight for them.
Leaning against the console next to Elytra's seat at a gunner station, V'tala rocked with a silent laugh before saying, "Guess that's for us."
"Let us be on our best behaviour," Pryseia said as she pushed herself out of her throne, "We don't want to raise anyone's suspicions before we get the chance to launch our operation."
They all trooped after her as she left the bridge, Nevara last of all, having powered down the ship to standby mode, while they all ended up ducking into their rooms to leave behind their personal sidearms - a precaution to stay as off the radar of the authorities as possible. When they lowered the personnel ramp that the guards had arranged themselves in front of, Erkanschlde was already there, a sympathetic grimace on her face as she watched them all descend the ramp.
One of the guards stepped forward to meet them, dressed from head to toe in the most gaudy set of power armour Elytra had ever seen. Platinum with gold filigree running along the edges of it, there was a hexagon emblem on their chest with the logo she recognized as belonging to the Elstree Docklands Tournament, and a helmet with a mirrored face plate, the shapes of the whole ensemble reminding her of the antique armour Rhea had explained was the inspiration for much of the Gorgon's aesthetic.
Lifting a hand to bid them to stop, the guard said, "Erkanschlde has forwarded your information for registration, however all newcomers are required to submit to a biometric scan before entering the premises."
Erkanschlde had informed them all of this beforehand, and as such, Pryseia was currently sporting the more natural looking prosthetic eye and arm she'd worn when she'd rescued Elytra from Iromay. Without her more robust arm, Elytra felt that Pryseia looked less herself, which should have been the opposite, considering these limbs were designed to look more like the flesh they were replacing.
"We stand ready to proceed." Pryseia told the guards, hands open at her sides.
Motioning to their own forces, the lead guard had six others step forward with devices that looked like paddles, and proceeded to wave them across each member of the Pelekys. The only pings they got were from Malakh's right leg, and Pryseia's left arm and eye, but these prostheses were deemed simple enough to not be used to sabotage the tournament, and so were allowed to pass. Giving a respectful nod to Erkanschlde, and completely ignoring the crew of the Pelekys after that, the guards turned and left, leaving them to their own devices.
"I apologize for all that," Elytra could feel the sincerity radiating off Erkanschlde like a resonant hum, "There was more than one case where people tried to use a false limb to sabotage the other competitors, so they're quite paranoid about them now."
"Which is why we appreciate your warning beforehand," Pryseia said, lifting her left arm, "Making the switch is an inconvenient process, and time I would rather not waste when we're supposed to be getting through orientation today."
"And at least this time you let me put you under for the switch." Rhea muttered quietly enough that Elytra only heard her because she was standing next to the woman.
Having missed that entirely, Erkanschlde beamed, clasping her hands in front of her as she said, "We're the first to arrive, so we've been given first pick at both accommodations and the repair bay. They're all functionally equal, but I made sure to get the bay furthest from the exit in the hangar - that's been Revco's for the last smattering of years, so its garnered a bit of a reputation for being a good luck charm when it comes to securing victory."
Letting out a single laugh, Pryseia told her, "May that galvanize our enemies rather than dishearten them. I'm hoping that my opponents will put up a fight against me."
"Given the reputations of the mercenaries being brought on, I don't think you're going to be disappointed on that front." Erkanschlde said with a laugh of her own, leading them forward, "Once we get your suite picked out and everyone registered, you'll be free to return to your ship, but once the tournament is underway, you'll only be allowed to return to it once curfew hits, and have to leave it at a set time every morning. They want people separated while they sleep - another precaution against sabotage. Every morning you'll all be scanned by the guards that will be stationed outside your ship, just to make sure that you aren't sporting a different prosthetic, as well as to scan for any performance enhancing drugs or devices."
"How often were pilots doping, and on what?" Nevara asked, incredulous.
"Too often in the early days, on a substance colloquially known as Razor," Erkanschlde told her, looking grim, "It's a local party drug, one that speeds up reaction times in the short term, but has a brutal crash once you're off of it. One of the earliest winners of the tournament was disqualified after they fell into a coma on the podium after they'd come off their week long high. They were hospitalized for almost a month after, recovering."
Scowling at that, Rhea told her, "Well you won't have to worry about Pryseia fucking around with any of that. No way I'd let her."
"A mild dose can lead to an enjoyable time," Erkanschlde said with a hint of embarrassment, clearly speaking from experience, "But the quantities this pilot was taking were, well, hospitalizing."
"For the sake of my own pride in my abilities, I can assure you that I will not be partaking of such things," Pryseia promised her, "I'd rather fight without my prosthetics than fight while high."
"Given your performance in the test run, I have no doubt you'd still come out the victor, even with such a disadvantage." Erkanschlde said as they all stepped inside the smaller building.
It was far more inviting than Elytra had feared, thankfully. After a walk through a short corridor, they emerged out into an spacious, hexagonal room, an assortment of comfortable looking tables and chairs taking up the far end of the room, something like a cross between a cafe and a cafeteria, while the area closest to where they'd entered into was filled with consoles and kiosks that Elytra couldn't guess the purpose of. The entire area was lit with a warm light that mimicked the daylight that would have been streaming in from outside, if this building had been as festooned with windows as its larger counterpart was. The decor was the same sort of impersonally tasteful that one would expect to find in a hotel, mostly warm whites and creams, with accents of cooler grey. It was a far cry from the stark whiteness and unsettling blandness of the facilities back on Iromay. For that, Elytra was very grateful. She didn't think she could handle being cooped up in a place like that again, even if it was going to only be for a fraction of the time.
"Meals will be provided at breakfast, lunch and dinner at set times, and there's food fabricators for when anyone gets a bit peckish in between," Erkanschlde said, pointing out the tables at the end of the room, before motioning to the closer end, "The consoles are blocked from greater network access - again, as a means to prevent sabotage during the matches - but they are locally linked to allow for local gaming. The tournament's matches are held in the daytime, but at night there's usually mixers and whatnot before curfew, which is at twelve at night. The guards usually come in around fifteen minutes before then, to give people enough time to gather their things and, aha, complete anything they might be in the middle of, before escorting everyone back to their ships for the night."
"Does there tend to be a lot of... completing during these tournaments?" Malakh asked slyly, getting a laugh out of Erkanschlde.
"Mercenaries are notorious for that type of activity," she replied, a cool blush rising in her cheeks, "They tend to operate by a 'live hard, die hard' mentality, and so take their pleasures wherever they can get them."
Coming to a stop in the middle of the room, where the gaming area gave way to the eating area, Erkanschlde asked, "Do you have any preference when it comes to your suite? None of them have the same superstitions placed on them that the repair bay does."
"Unless there are any that would provide a tactical advantage, I think we would find any of them acceptable." Pryseia said after casting a glance across her crew, who all made some sign that they agreed with that.
"How about one in the middle of things, then? Easy access to everything this place will have to offer?" Erkanschlde suggested, already beginning to move towards one of the doors that ran along the walls of the place. The crew of the Pelekys followed after her.
Inside the suite, it was more of the same comfortable if neutral decor - chairs and couches for the most part, with a few tables and consoles. There were a series of doors against the far wall, which Erkanschlde pointed to as she said, "There's some private rooms through the bulk of those doors, in case anyone needs to take a midday nap... or be horizontal for other reasons. These ones with the square handles are washrooms, and the darker door is a change room for the designated pilot. We'll need to get you measured for a regulation uniform before the tournament begins."
"Unless there is anything else pressing, we may as well get that squared away now." Pryseia said, turning to her expectantly.
"My thoughts exactly," Erkanschlde smiled, "That room will have the necessary fabricator for our needs."
After getting Pryseia's suit for the tournament - a simpler suit of Necupole power armour, coloured in the same dusty orange and dark violet of MGJX Corp - the crew had all returned to the Pelekys, while Erkanschlde headed off to the main building in order to await the arrival of the other CEOs. From where they'd gathered in the bridge once more, the space projecting the outside world, they watched as ships came in to park beside them, Necupole guards coming out to make sure their crews weren't trying to start any funny business before the tournament even began.
"With how paranoid they are about anything that could be deemed an attempt at sabotage, I would suggest that we hold off on launching our mission tonight, at the very least." Nevara suggested, eyeing up the predominantly usgaisjan crew that was currently getting the scanning treatment.
"I agree with you on that," Pryseia said before turning to the console next to her, "Vi, has anyone been trying to poke around in our systems, remotely or otherwise?"
"Not yet, and believe me, I am keeping an eye out for that," she replied darkly, "They aren't the only ones who are paranoid!"
Nodding at that, Pryseia said, "Good, remain vigilant. I would rather not have anything go amiss at this juncture. The tournament begins tomorrow, six rounds throughout the day, followed by a day for repairs. They will doubtlessly have extra guards out overnight during this time, so I would suggest holding off until the night of the second round of matches before we launch our infiltration mission. Let our cooperative actions during the day coax their eyes to leave us be during the night."
"Sounds like a plan," Rhea said, her smile turning devious, "Hopefully some of these mercs will live down to their reputation and do something shady to draw even more attention away from us. We can be the passive wallflowers, for once."