LiM Ch11: Bloodrave Skies
#11 of LiQUID METAL
If you don't like guys, girls, furres, sex or love, violence (Not in yiff) or if you're too young (18, 21 in some places, just ask the police "Hey, am I allowed to read sexy bisexual furre stories on the net?") or any of that, CLOSE TEH WINDOW NOWS! All characters are copyright me, Shinkada, and are used with my permission, with the exception of Coda, who is copyrighted to Coro, and used with his permission. This story is a bit mushy at times, so if you don't want lurve, buzz off. Anyone who bugs me "OMG MORE YIFF PLOX" will get castrated by Okhami himself. I put in enough of it already to get you off AT LEAST once per every few chapters. If you're still not satisfied take a cold shower. ***'s represent a change of scenery or time. ---'s represent a non-critical yiff scene, fan service to shut up the wailing masses. Please, sit back, relax, and enjoy the story without whining about it. It's a good story. I like it. A sidenote; if you'd like to write a story set in the same universe as this, by all means, feel free. As long as you give me credit for it, as long as you inform me that you're going to do it via e-mail ([email protected]), and as long as you don't try and mess with my, or Coro's character/s, I don't mind. In fact if someone good writes a story I'd be quite honoured. Just make sure you tell me first, and don't mess anything up. (I'm still angry with all of you. No wait, I take that back. I'm even MORE angry. A measly 100 views? My stories usually have 700-800 views by the time they leave the front page. "but shnidaka, dis 1 duznt hav yif in it!" No shit. It develops the plot into, I don't know, something more than a fap toy. Ugh. Bloodrave Skies is one of the names I occasionally use for Guilds in RPGs (along with Schwarzes Dammerung), but it's also appropriate to the story so I thought I'd use it as the chapter name.) -Shinkada
LiQUID METAL
- * * ***CHAPTER 11: Bloodrave Skies*** Soon enough, we were in range to see the enemy army. It was... A strange sight. The humans were, at average, about as tall as a feline furre, around the 5'9 mark. A bit shorter than your average canine (although obviously a fair bit taller than me), although compared to what marched beside them they seemed quite short; Drakes. Not many granted, about one for every 10 humans, but they were certainly there. Overall, the human force made me confident. They had those silly little metal guns which I was so easily able to manipulate, armour that looked like it was cotton or something, and more silly metal blades at their sides. The humans would, as a complete understatement, be no threat. The drakes on the other hand, well, all's they carried were their trademark weaponry: various blade type weapons made entirely out of their own claws, fangs and hides. Drake materials are indescribably tough and everything they have can easily stand up to laser-grade equipment, not to mention cut through any material just as easily as our own blades. This also meant that it took a LOT of slashes for a drake to go down, even when hitting their hide dead on. Either that or one thrust with a strong blade-user's full strength behind it. There weren't too many drakes, which made sense considering they'd lost roughly 3/4 of their entire species after the Drake Wars, but even this number could pose a threat. Of course, I was near-silently feeding all I saw to Grant. We had tried to stay quiet the majority of the trip here in case the enemy had sound sensors, but information like this would be far more beneficial to our eventual victory than the Stealth Squad itself. Of course it would be a huge advantage if we could get in there, but the information would help throughout the whole war, not just the first ten minutes. Then, finally, I spotted him. Who we had really been looking for - the enemy General. He was right there with the others, but his position was immensely obvious. He was completely armoured in drake hide, every inch of him covered by their scales, bones, claws and fangs. He was toting a laser rifle - something I instantly recognized as the same model weapon we had been using in the previous war, and at his back he had a large drake scythe. He was barking orders over some kind of old communications device, which I quickly ordered one of my units to get out a sound detector and direct to Grant, as well as four drakes body guarding him, two on each side. I was Grant's eyes, redirecting any useful information I saw, then gave him the over when the sound detector was hooked up to give way to its communications. If his words were to be trusted, there were no ambushes, no secondary forces, and this was their only offense. We wipe these guys out, and the 'war' was over. It all seemed far, FAR too easy. There was only one thing he said of interest to me. "That fox bastard back at Command didn't tell us the odds would be THIS bad, what a cunt." "Lance," I snarled under my breath, paw shaking on my hilt as I eagerly awaited Grant's signal. Now, more than ever, I just wanted to give these blades their first taste of blood. I was watching through my admittedly Sam Fisher-esque visor at our troops as the Trench Lobbers marched up, shields blocking both themselves and the troops behind them from the onslaught of metal from the enemies. As soon as they were in range, they dropped down, dug their shields into the ground (which then clamped themselves there, gripping into the gravel with enough force to stop them from toppling over even if a rocket impacted them), and loaded up their mortars. Each soldier fired their shot with about half a second in delay of each other, creating not only a very nice show but also a constant barrage in case the enemy had defenses. I followed the projectiles for a moment, watching them soar, before my vision diverted to the enemy force. The enemy scattered, trying to avoid the blasts with absolutely no protection, but it was no good. Both the force and range of our explosions were too much, and in that exact instant, every human except for the General and the Drakes were wiped out. That's when it happened - the very air began to become bloody. It took me a long while to notice what it was - due to the just barely lower-than-Earth gravity; the specks of dust that floated in the air were just a bit denser than the specks that floated in Earth's own air. Just thick enough, it seemed to still stay light when blood landed on it. The blood from the explosions had coated these tiny specks and was slowly dragging them out of the air, but only very slowly. To add to the effect, one of the two Korshal moons was up, reflecting off these tiny specks of airborne blood as they slowly drifted to the ground. The entire area around the enemy army was covered in a red haze, albeit a very light one. The scene was nothing short of poetic. Thanks to the visor, I could see the human general's look of disbelief. So could my force apparently, because every last one of us had to struggle to hold back the laughs that ensued. THIS was called a war? We'd get back home and it'd be known only as a silly little skirmish. As soon as the enemy General brought his communications device to his ear I instantly tuned into it, as did our receiver, sending what was said to Grant again. "Fuck me! They just wiped out every last one of our human numbers! Ugh, that's it, bring in the Heavies." "Alright everyone," I heard Grant begin, obviously speaking to all the Commanders at once. "Mammoths, come forward. Lobbers, stay where you are and start firing as soon as these 'heavies' come into range. For now, Mammoths, do the same. As soon as we lose even one tank, I'll give the command for the Mammoths to stop firing their main cannons. Alex, wait 3 seconds then raise your barrier. At which point, Mammoths, keep firing your turrets to make it look like you're still attacking. Lobbers, keep firing above the barrier. General Out." I nodded a bit - a good plan. I switched my com to my own squad. "We stay until further notice. Out," I whispered, only just audible even over the comms device. I was still keeping speech short and quiet, in case the enemy had any sound detection hardware, and continued watching. Seeing the Mammoth tanks move closer was like a nightmare, at least, for the enemy. The massive, spiked treads on the sides practically ploughed the ground beneath them, turning it from hard rock into a couple of inches of mush. The lasers at the front did much the same, if not worse, which was the reason for the massive, heavy boots that all infantry, no matter how light, wore. I watched the tanks for a moment, awed at pretty much everything about them, before scanning over the enemy lines. Finally, what they were talking about became apparent - in the distance behind them, just emerging from the red dust that covered the horizon was the enemies 'Heavy' unit. Once again, my entire squad had to hold back laughs. By now, we were getting a little more than relaxed - Ken, a 40-something year old panther, a veteran of the Drake Wars, and Hisoka, a Japanese feline in his late 20's who'd been on the frontlines of skirmishes since he was 16, laid either side of me. "This' just pathetic," Ken whispered after shutting off his comms device in a deep voice that was powerful enough to make most opponents run just from it. He looked just as rough as his voice sounded, and even though I was a part of LiM I often wondered if I would be able to take him down in a fist fight. "I've been to a lot of hopeless skirmishes, but they always at least had lasers," Hisoka chuckled, his extremely soft-spoken voice almost entirely covering his love of war, were it not for the tiny hint of malice that was, unmistakably, beneath the kind exterior. Like his voice, Hisoka looked like a kind, gentle, loving cat - and like his voice, this was betrayed by his eyes, which seemed to hold murderous intent no matter what he was doing. I'd rapidly realized however this was reserved for his enemies - I didn't doubt that the man would take a bullet for me. "This is, without a doubt, the most pathetic enemy I'll ever face," I said behind a smirk, causing the three of us to once more hold back chuckles. The enemy tanks were a joke. Forest-green, with normal treads, no turrets, and a main cannon that, compared to our own Mammoths, was about the size of a foot soldier's rifle. From a guess, I'd say the cannons of the Heavies were around 120mm. We hadn't been using technology of such a level for the last 30 or so years; our own Mammoths used 950mm cannons. Hell, even our Lobbers used 350mm's. I noticed - not with my eyes, but with my blood - as Alex lowered the sheet in front of our forces. Almost as soon as she did, a number of Mammoths fired their shots. I shivered as they did - the blast from the cannon of a Mammoth is enough to send shivers down the spine of any military enthusiast, and hearing those 950mm cannons go off was like a serenade of science's pinnacle of achievements. Even the biggest of peace supporters would have trouble not admitting the beauty of one of those blasts. And of course, the results were just as good. Each shot, naturally, hit dead on to the tanks emerging from the horizon. I was surprised the shooters used the biggest shots, lighter ones would allow for more flight time, but I guess their accuracy, firing the shots at a pretty generous angle upwards, meant they didn't have to worry sacrificing power for accuracy when they had so much time to leisurely aim. And just like that, they were gone. Huge, blue-coloured explosions rose from the Plasma Missiles which were used. Frankly, I was surprised Grant had ordered to waste such firepower on such an obviously weak enemy. "Guess he wanted to make double-sure," Hisoka muttered at my right, mimicking my thoughts. The blue flames spread outward for a moment, although a lot of the blast radius was lost on the inside of the enemy tanks as the shells pierced their hulls, going straight inside the enemy tanks before exploding on their floor or wall, designed to penetrate one surface then blow on the next. The tanks got shredded to pieces as soon as the kinetic force filled their walls, and after the smoke cleared, there was only a large number of black, smoldering marks, and a thick rain of thin, light, burnt metal. "Shit," the enemy General muttered. Again my squad held back laughs. This was turning out to be more of a field trip than a war. "Damn it Fox, how long until that Ion Cannon of yours is ready to fire again?" the general barked into his receiver - my squad instantly shut up, interests piqued. Thankfully, since we were tapped directly into his line, we could hear both outgoing and incoming calls. "You know it's still experimental," a voice said, obviously using a vocal modifier for secrecy. In my head, I could hear Lance's voice behind it clearly. "It won't be ready for another 5 minutes. As soon as it's ready, say goodbye to the army you're facing." "Okhami, stay where you are!" Grant barked even as I was just about to sprint back to the main forces to help. "We'll split up. Don't worry, just stay with your squad." "Grant, I have a better idea. And only I can do it. So shut up and let me help," I, calmly yet firmly, whispered back. Grant seemed to be a bit taken back by my insistence, and there was a pause. "What do you plan to do? And moreover, why can't Alex do it?" He eventually, calmly, asked. I, too, calmed down. "I analyzed the metal of that meeting headquarters of yours on campus. I can reproduce it. I'm pretty sure if you bunch up the forces, I can smith the metal on the ground to form a covering of the same material that'll withstand the Ion Cannon. I don't think Alex has tried analyzing it." Another long pause. "She hasn't... How confident are you that you can move quickly? We can detect the Ion gathering approximately 12 seconds before it begins to visibly gather, so you'd have roughly 19, maybe 20 seconds." I smirked at this. "For 20 seconds, you could leave the army as it is and I'd have enough time to get to the impact site and pull up a barrier. "Okay, even better than bunching us up. Get down here on the double," Grant said and disconnected our link. I nodded to no one in particular and switched my comm to my Squad. "I'm heading back to assist with the Ion Cannon. Ken's your Captain for now. Good luck," I said, saluted, and literally jumped up, once more using my ankle bones as pistons. I thanked my stealth, as I'd probably be shot out of the sky if I was seen, but I did get a good view of the field. The only enemies left were the Commander and the drakes, who were currently using a mix of various metal slopes and their own hide to shield themselves from our tank fire. It was just a matter of time before they were close enough to be in Fury range, at which point they'd go down in seconds. I shook my head - what a fight. Before I knew it, I was approaching our camp. A metal pole shot down from the bottom of my foot paw, stopping my motion, before I jumped up, the pole withdrawing back into my foot paw as I plummeted, then landed with a massive metal clank, putting a paw-shaped dent in the metal on the ground - I was getting really well used to my abilities, which is something I was proud of. Grant was on me in a second. "Phew, you're quick. You prepared for this?" "Of course," I said happily, a smirk over my muzzle. "I practiced forming this metal a lot because it can resist almost anything. After I saw it standing after that Ion Cannon shot I just had to learn how to make it. I'll be fine." "And the time limit?" "I told you I practiced with the metal a lot. It'll be up in mere seconds, and well, you said yourself that I'm quick." Grant gave me a half smirk and a nod. "Alright then. See that tent over there?" the mouse asked, pointing a finger behind me, causing me to turn to follow. "That's the Intel group. Open the door to that place, the Ion detector is the first machine in there so the people monitoring it will be able to tell you the instant when it starts to gather. You can go from there I'm sure." I gave a nod and a salute, and jogged over to the Intel tent. Wasn't much time to waste, now. I flipped open the flap, everyone giving me a half-second glance before going back to what they were doing. The guys at the Ion detector didn't look back, however. They gave me a sharp salute - something that made me quickly think back to the fact that I was currently considered Captain-rank - and saluted them back. "What's news, guys?" I asked, unable to be bothered putting on a militant exterior unless necessary. "The absolute second that the Ion starts gathering, we'll be able to tell you exactly where. You've got roughly 19 seconds to get over there and put up a barrier. We're counting on you, Sir," one of the furres, a Dalmatian, said to me. I nodded, gave him a thanks, and moved back to stand just outside the tent. I continued to watch the tanks fire on the approaching enemy forces, the cacophony of blasts helping me calm myself, somehow. And then it hit me. What Lance had said. "Say goodbye to the entire enemy force." How did he plan to take out our entire force? The Ion Cannon wasn't nearly that big. "Unless..." I muttered, and quickly switched to Grant on my receiver. "Grant, something just occurred to me. Lance said he'd take out our entire force in one shot yet, right?" I could hear a soft grunt. "Okhami, don't jump to conclusions, we don't know if it's Lance or not... But yes, he did say that. But he must have been bluffing." "What if he can change the shape of the cannon?" Silence. "Captain Okhami, Sir! The Ion just started gathering! It's... It's across our entire army! Even the tents! Oh God, it's even going to obliterate us!..." "OKHAMI! RAISE A BARRIER AS BIG AS YOU CAN! ALL FORCES, START CONVERGING TOWARDS THE MIDDLE AS FAST AS POSSIBLE!" '17 seconds,' I thought to myself. Instantly, I shot off towards the center of the camp where Grant's tent was, leaping there in a single, low-to-ground jump. I landed with a thud, quickly getting my bearings together before I stomped my foot paw, using the impact to help me focus on the ground beneath me. '14.' I could hear chaos in the background, but I tuned it out. Now, everything was on me. With a low growl, I began to concentrate everything I had on the ground. After just a second, the metal on the ground began to flow like a lake towards me. First forming a pole in the middle of the field, the strange, almost alien and practically invulnerable version of mercury shimmering in the moonlight. It then flowed out from there like water, spreading first far enough to cover the width of the army, then outwards, rapidly. '8,' my mind reminded me, just as blue particles began to gather around my closed eyes. "Okhami! Protect the Intel tent at all costs!" I made a note of it and spread a layer of metal out from the main canopy to cover the tent. I slowly walked, while still spreading the metal through my foot paws, to place my paws on the center pole - this helped me concentrate further, the spread of metal quickening. '3.' I heard it - I could hear the Ion parting the atmosphere as it shot down. I could hear a few screams in the distance, but I knew now wasn't the time to be worrying about every last man, but the majority. I grunted and flinched as the energy smashed into the metal, rippling around it, shaking the ground and threatening to evaporate it on the spot. I could feel, through the metal, that I'd managed to spread it out to the last few tanks, and those that were destroyed were, thankfully, abandoned. So instead, I put my attention towards reinforcing the barrier we already had. The top layers were slowly being disintegrated, I could feel it through my paws. Considering the size of the barrier, it was breaking apart just a tiny bit faster than I could renew it. I growled louder, using the feeling of my fangs bearing shut to help direct my mind, fighting back. 'What's going on?' my mind asked, managing to separate my subconscious from my conscious so that I could still concentrate on the work at hand, a little talent I'd learnt quite quickly into metalcrafting. 'There's no way it lasted this long last time...' *** "Heh heh... So the little husky thinks he can hold it back, eh?... Well... I guess I could let him think that..." *** The barrier was almost gone. I was now panting, claws actually making indents in the metal as I gripped it. Tears streaked down my face, and blood was running down my claws from gripping too hard. The mental and physical exertion was getting to me. But if I stopped now, the Ion would instantly blast through the barrier and annihilate our entire force. The Earthen Army, wiped out in one blow. Earth, defenseless. Coda, Mairu, Grant, my parents, all dead. Drake, Kit, Tero... Dead in vain. At that, my vision reddened slightly, the first adrenal stages of bloodlust, and I practically roared out. My concentration shot up, and I managed to gather just a bit more metal, a lot of it from the abandoned halves of Mammoth tanks, and add a few millimeters to the barrier. It was just enough. A final surge of energy blasted down, destroying the extra layers I'd just made - it would have destroyed us without that final reinforcement from my bloodlust - before it finally stopped. Instantly, threat gone, I passed out. *** I woke to a green, dirty material ceiling. 'The medical tent,' my mind pitched in, and I nodded to myself. With a groan, I slid my legs over one side of the bed, sitting up slowly as blood rushed to my head. "Captain Okhami Sir, please lie back down! You've only been resting for about an hour now, you should stay for at least a couple of days!" a doctor, a squirrel, said as he pushed his paws lightly against my shoulder. I ignored his insistence and stood up, swaying a moment before pushing my way out of the tent. Almost exactly on queue, Grant was opposite me. "What's the situation, General?" I asked, giving him a salute while still pulling myself together. "Okhami, honestly, you're ridiculous. And I've learnt by now that absolutely nothing I say stops you types. The enemy retreated the moment you blocked that Ion shot, we've been pursuing, but they're quick." I smiled at Grant and, without giving it another moment's thought, the pistons in my ankles smashed against each other, propelling me straight in the direction I saw our army in. It was only a few leaps, before I landed with a thud, just in front of the enemy General and the few remaining drakes. *** "She's muttering about him in her sleep again, Sir," the doctor, a squirrel, said over Alex's unconscious body. She was fine, just very tired, and currently mumbling. "But other than that okay, right?" "Yep. Perfectly fine." "Okhami..." The doctor and General just chuckled. *** "IGNORE HIM MEN, KEEP MOVING!" I shouted as some stupid dog - looked like a husky, I guess - landed in front of us. The enemy had somehow guarded the Ion Cannon and now they were chasing us. But I wasn't about to stop. I hadn't gotten revenge, yet. Best to live and fight another day. "Not even going to stop and chat, gentlemen?" the husky asked. I snarled and snapped my fingers below the group of lizards, giving them the signal to attack out of the dog's hearing range. We continued to sprint, then as we got to him, one of my escorts slashed at him with a sword. It was difficult to see from my position behind, but the husky looked like he... Well, vanished, and appeared somewhere else. He didn't even step, he was just there. The next moment, I saw a glowing blade protrude from the lizard's lower back, then he fell to the ground as it was drawn out. "Shit," I muttered, being forced to stop from this damn dog and his cheap tricks. *** I just smirked at the rest of the drakes as I drew my sword out, letting the scaly body fall to the ground beside me. They hesitated - long enough for a Sniper to pick off another one of them. They panicked at this, and a few of them attacked me. In a lightning quick motion, probably faster than they could track, I used my left sword to parry the left blade and right for right, then crossed them over in a thrust, stabbing the left drake with my right blade and vice versa, then spun, first slashing across the third drake's chest with one blade, then completely decapitating him with the other. There was another pause as they looked on, the fear of death in their eyes. I almost felt a tinge of remorse, but before it could bubble up, I took the opportunity to launch at them. In a few short moments, all the drakes lay on the ground, the blood dripping along the metal of Korshal's surface, as I stared down the enemy General. *** "He... He's a monster! A demon! The enemy, he, he's some kind of unholy freak!" I barked both at the enemy and into my communicator. The mutt stood in front of me, blades and fur dripping with blood, his eyes tinted red as the red haze gathered around him. His blades were beginning to glow more fiercely, as if fueled by his sadism, and he looked nothing short of a demon. His speed was insane! I couldn't track him at all! And those blades could cleave even drake hide into nothing without a moment's thought. "I... I'm gunna die..." *** I smirked at the General, making sure my eyes were wide enough and glinting with insanity. As he stepped back, terrified, I couldn't help wanting to further the image he was obviously getting of me being a demon. I switched off the blade I wasn't charging, and slowly licked the blood off its length, making his eyes go significantly wider and forcing him to take another step back. I just let out a guttural laugh, grinning wide to complete the insane look, and in a flash I was in front of him, able to, much faster than anyone could track, sink into the metal ground and reform myself in front of him thanks to the planet's surface, and raised my charged blade to his head. He just stared at me, shaking, before I released the trigger and the beam shot straight through the top of his skull for a couple of seconds, as if holding him there, before he fell over, my sword deactivated. I picked up his comms device. *** "I'm coming, Lance. I'm coming. You're not safe. I'm going to... Annihilate you..," the voice said. He was angry... VERY angry. And it sounded like as he talked, he let a bit of his near-wolven bloodlust seep into his voice. A second after he was done talking, I heard that cracking sound you get the split second where a comm device hits the ground, just before it ceases function. 'Yes... I know that voice.' "So... Lance, hm? Heheheh... Yes. Come on Okhami. I'm waiting." *** I gave a thumbs-up to the Fury Pilot who'd managed to get there first - I briefly saw him returning it from the shaded cockpit - and stumbled back towards base. I had a while to go, so I didn't complain when a second Fury pulled over to give me a lift. "Hey, you're that guy in charge of the Stealth Division, right? And the guy that saved all our asses under that Ion blast! Man, you only just did that and you're already on your paws? Damn, you're gunna make a name for yourself in no time around here." I chuckled at the typically-militant mouse who hauled me into his Fury. I say his because it had become standard for the military to offer its more dedicated personnel their own equipment. People who're in for the long haul and not just Reserves work get their own blades, guns, and if applicable, even their own aircraft, tanks, mechs or ships. And it was obvious that this guy's Fury was his own. As is standard with soldiers, the walls were covered in naked furres (mostly huskies, I noted with a smirk), and he had the 'Unofficial Military Anthem' (Disturbed) playing from large speakers bolted to the walls. "Corporal Jones, at your service, Sir!" He said, giving a sharp salute before (literally) jumping behind the controls of the Fury. Still unused to the title, I didn't have time to salute him back, plus I was busy drooling over the mech's insides. The seat looked more like something from an arcade than anything else, and as the Mech got into a standing position from its previous kneel I had to metalize my foot paws to stay steady - his seat was mechanical, and tilted whichever direction against his mech to keep him level and minimize impacts. The controls seemed to be pretty similar to what one might imagine. To make the mech stand back up he first pulled both sticks back then pulled them up. There was an index and thumb trigger on each stick allowing for two hand weapons and two shoulder weapons, as well as various switches and buttons over the 'dash', one of which I instantly recognized as the Optical Camo button that had made the Earthen Army's Furies infamous. Rather than have the details on the cockpit screen, the targeting system and whatnot were installed into a VR-esque headset that 'Jones' now wore which, combined with the pilot helmet and mask, made him look like a mix between an aircraft pilot and something from a sci-fi series. "C'mon, Jones," I said, clanking up to sit in the co-pilot's seat. Furies didn't usually have co-pilots, but they were there just in case and could choose to manually operate the normally automatic turrets if they chose to. Sentient pilots often had better accuracy than the automated systems, so it was usually a solid choice to have a co-pilot. "Give me a PROPER name." The mouse chuckled as I saw him depress two pedals with his feet, the engines booting up and we began to rapidly slide along the ground back towards base after he pushed the sticks forward, thrusters blaring behind us. The initial hit from G's was near addictive. Since we were heading in the opposite direction to the main forces, it was standard for us to be moving around people, not them us - a rule the army had made after too many pilots had either crashed or wasted time trying to decide who should move out of the way - so his reply took a while as he, very skillfully may I add, weaved in an out of tanks, soldiers and other Furies, mostly using the side thrusters to dash rather than turning "Fine... Azruel will do," he eventually finished, eyes never leaving the screen. "So what're the controls for this thing like?" I asked, mind working to link all the actions to the buttons. He chuckled at me and I think he may've grinned. "Well, tilting the sticks in a direction, when the thruster pedals are pressed down, boost it in that direction. Actually moving them moves the arms in the corresponding directions. Tilting in a direction when the thrusters aren't pressed moves the direction of the thrusters so, say, if I want to boost up, I tilt the sticks back, then press the booster pedals, then tilt the sticks up." Although I had a bit of trouble understanding, he actually demonstrated this, in a matter of a second the thrusters were off, aimed up, then we were in the air and boosting, hovering above our own forces to get back to base quicker. "Why didn't you just do that at first?" I asked, raising a brow. "I wanted to show off my maneuvering skills," he said matter-of-factly, smile hidden by the mask which just made it all the funnier to me. "Well Mr. Showoff, go on then. What else?" "Well, let's see. Air maneuvering. When you're in the air pushing the thruster pedal half down automatically keeps you suspended. Even one of 'em. So how you turn is just pressing down a bit further in the direction you wanna turn in," he said, pressing in the left pedal a bit further to turn to the left fairly quickly, before he dropped it back to half, then straightened out with the right pedal. It was now that we got behind our forces, which ended up being good timing. "To drop back down, you just release a pedal. You can also turn by pulling both triggers in one direction," Azruel continued, pulling both of the sticks to the right, causing both weapons to move with his arms, as well as making the mech sharply turn when they were both pushed to the right. "You see, there are four levels of boost from the pedals. None, no boost. Quarter pressed is the directional ones. Half pressed is just the foot boosters. Three quarters is both boosters. And finally, fully pressed, which overthrusts the foot boosters to make the mech go higher." "Wait, so you could use that to take off, right? Why didn't you just do that at fir-... Oh. Showing off, right?" "Bingo, Bingo," he said, making fun of the old dog nickname. I just laughed and shook my head at him, watching in awe as he effortlessly piloted the complicated mech. "I am totally going to get me one of these when this skirmish is over." *** In barely any time at all we arrived back at base, thanks to the super fast Walker, and I jumped out. Me and Azruel saluted each other after I landed, and he sped off to apparently continue his recon duty. A chuckle came from behind me, and I turned to see Grant. I gave him a salute, then quickly followed up with a smirk. He saluted me back. "Look at you, Okhami. A few months ago I was giving you the Newbie Lecture, now here you are instantly earning the respect of pretty much everyone you meet." "Grant, save the 'I'm so proud' story. I'm -tired-." The mouse just laughed and nodded. "We're camping here for the night," he said in, strangely enough, Japanese. I blinked a few times. "What's with the Jap, Grant?" "If the enemy really IS Lance, well, he doesn't know Japanese, does he? And I doubt he's carrying around a translation dictionary." I nodded - fair enough. "Tomorrow your Stealth Team is going to be escorted over to the Ion Satellite. The rest of us will leave, and pretend we either thought it was remotely operated, or that we're preparing a bombing run on it. I'd say you don't have to go considering how well you've done, but I somehow don't think you'll buy that." "Of course not. I'll be going there with them." Grant gave a nod. "Expected as much. Well, at least for now, get some sleep," he said, before saluting me and walking off to his own tent. I saluted back with a smile, and went to grab my sleeping roll. I came back and, after a moment, found my Team. "Er, don't Captains have their own quarters, Sir?" Hisoka asked as I sat down at their jokily-prepared campfire - Korshal was definitely not the warmest of planets. The sarcasm in the word 'sir' was obvious. "Yeah, but as if I'm gunna sleep out with those old coots. We should bond before tomorrow, you know? A good team is a tight one," I said jokily, casually lifting up the sheet of metal that they'd hidden the stashed booze under and grabbed a can. The team simply stared at me for a moment, before they laughed and took out the cans they'd been hiding. "Nothing like a few cans of Heineken before you march off to infiltrate an enemy base, eh men?"