Big Fe, reformat into a tabular visualization, please.

  That was a wall of text if I had ever seen one. The table was barely better.

  Perhaps a graphical representation or an animation next time? I wont be analyzing combat that way ever again. I will have to automate more analysis with Big Fe.

  But it was fascinating to see both how the Squad Leader began to calculate damage effectiveness, and also revised targeting. At first, I thought what he was doing was called shots like he did with the first dinosaur a few days ago.

  >>Quad Almighty, was it just a few days ago, Big Fe?>>

  It feels like weeks ago. Anyway, he wasn't attempting to target weak or vulnerable attackers or locations, he was trying to maximize effective damage per round so that there was no over, or worse underkill. He figured out how much damage each target could take, roughly. And he already knew how much damage the synths could dish out. The Squad Leader then divided the targets amongst the synths so that there was as little wasted damage while still keeping the pressure on.

  His other adaptation was to quickly go from targeting the monsters, the Ostrosauruses and larger Nodosauruses, to directly hitting the Neamans. Seems like everyone got that message but me. He then prioritized the Nodosaurus riders because they were doing serious damage, and had the ability to trash our cargo (and I was ashamed to admit, me). He started with 2 synths per target and determined while better it was still not as ideal. So he divided the 21 synths into 6 teams and was able to have a complete knock out each attack. This really ratcheted up the pressure when almost every attack we were delivering was an instakill. I assume that tactic will not work for everything, these Neaman had homemade and cheap armor, but it sure worked here. The addition of my backup and spare synths simply increased the rate.

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  When the battle was in its final stages. The Squad Leader adapted again in round 12, he began to leave wounded and retreating targets alone, and only had the synths target aggressive hostiles of all types, monster or rider. If they didn't approach our convoy, the synths didn't attack. Eventually he adapted one last time and had the synths adopt a watching and guarding behavior. The typical formation they were using before this ambush.

  In the end, this was just a stand there and shoot fight. I couldn’t help but think that with tactics and preparation the numbers could have been much better. I just didn't know how to go about doing that. Big Fe was cleaning up the statistics a bit for me. Uncertainty in measurements due to synths being under active fire made extrapolation and estimations less accurate. Post mortem analysis was limited because we wanted to get out of dodge and be on our way. In general we calculated that overall ranged and melee accuracy was approximately 75% for attackers and 80% for defenders. I imagine some of that was Miles and Molly pulling up our average a bit.

  It wasn't all rainbows and full e-mags. By round 9, four synths were out of commission. One synth got clobbered in round 3 and was totally knocked out. In round 7, we lost two more, and a final one in round 8. That was 20% of our synth fighting force. What is worse, two of them are totally offline and not responding to any remote communication.

  Coming back to the present, I reached out with my mind. But I am too far away to try detailed telemechanic introspection, at the moment. The other two were online, but had major structural damage, and would never walk again. At least until I rebuilt or replaced their limbs. I double checked Squad-Leader. He had extricated himself from the travel straps that were holding him down. I had him with the other mining drones, synths and equipment. Not sure in hindsight why I secured him that way, but I didn't want him to get hurt in shipping I guess. Glad he was riding in the back and spotted the Nemans when he did, though. His armor would need a complete overhaul, but because I put him in generic heavy cyborg plate body armor, he had better protection than the other synths. I was going to majorly increase that protection as well. I hope Alexandria could help me design and install top of the line ‘borg armor for protection on my Squad Leaders. My back up and other various synths had little to no armor beyond their cybernetic frames, and the various modifications I added.

  Said modifications which most actually made them weaker and less protected, but it was a work in progress right?

  There were about 2 additional squads worth there, and given the price and effectiveness I would probably place all them in cyborg armor as well. This will match the mining, driver, and other miscellaneous synths running around in light borg armor. The synths that did survive were quite banged up. Less servo damage this time, as it was a ranged battle, but several cracks and penetrations in their synth frames and cybernetic limbs. I realized it must have been a pretty macabre sight. Seemly undead cyborgs bereft of any human flesh were running around shooting and attacking 2.2m tall aliens riding on mutant dinosaurs.

  In addition my up-armored synths weathered quite the abuse as well. They were the front line for this conflict. Most of the Chaparralito Power Armor equipped synths have between 12-22% armor left, total! And the Grasshoppers fared a little better with 25-31% armor remaining. Not a single synth escaped without a scratch. The repair and maintenance would take forever. At least I knew I could be productive doing that compared to my fighting ability.

  Turning to my ride, I was scared to look. Gretta had 46% of her armor integrity remaining! I was somewhat shocked it wasn't worse due to the explosive plasma bath, but looking at her took my breath away, for a different reason now. Spiderweb cracking marred the entire front facing surfaces. Pressure and heat damage had deformed the supersteel due to the medium range plasma missiles. Furthermore, various gouges and scratches surrounded the knees and shins. A few of the larger dinosaurs had scored direct hits on her thighs but no through and through penetrations, thank Quad. And the cockpit and missile pods had a variety of explosive, kinetic, and even plasma caster burns.

  Not to mention, no let’s mention it, Big Fe. My beautiful birthday paint job was gone.

  No trace of the paint could be found anywhere on the entire 11m tall Power Construction Corp? (PCC) 54r Provender Industrial Battle mech. My breath caught in my throat. Even the back was flash burned completely bare of paint. I was just glad that I survived in her, and she held it together. I was conservatively targeted twice as much as anyone else, and we pulled through. She deserved the solid reputation the Provender’s had, and she deserved as much cleaning, repairing, and upgrading that I could do. I needed to figure out how to help in a fight without dropping missiles on anyone, ever. I could add another weapon platform, there was plenty of room, I could use a handheld giant sized weapon, or even a melee weapon. I was pretty mean with a wrench myself. I would figure it out in Neu Ca?on.

  I checked the logs on the BDwerks? Kombi-Max heavy transport. Its armor had not been breached and the cargo should be safe. Sunny said he checked on it, so I wasn't worried, too much. I asked Big Fe to show me the rest of the convoy. It looks like the second Roundabout was down for the count. The kombi-buses were shot to pieces but were still moving! Everything else seemed beat up but fit enough that I could plan my repairs and triage.

  Rest of convoy

  The sun was just starting to dip toward the horizon when I noticed the spires and arches of the sprawling Grand Canyon. In 20 minutes or so, we would arrive at the southern rim staging area. Neu Ca?on was a modern and growing city. It was truly a product of post-war Earth, conventional plumbing ran alongside aether cables, fueled by the myriad of loci that ran through the Grand Canyon complex. The crazy magitechists of Neu Ca?on had even created a fleet of floating barges that would ferry passengers, vehicles, and even large cargo across the vast divide.

  After my dad made it big at his work for BDwerks? and the Black Market, he didn't retire but he did buy a home in Neu Ca?on, he would commute and spend more time here. He even brought his parents here from Colorado right before he got killed. I had loved spending weekends with Dad in that house, watching movies, cooking bad food and window shopping. He would show me sketches for various robot ideas. I would dream of joining him in his lab and showing him what I could create, someday.

  A day that would never arrive now.

  The Black Market had seen my potential, at least, and they had funded this little escape venture and tasked me with creating my synths. But they had their hooks all over me too, and I wasn’t any more free than my Dad was. I guess we had that in common. On the other hand, he was happy back then.

  It was weird for me though, Dad was different when Abuelo and Abuelita had moved in. They lived with us for six months, and dinner time was different, my hobbies had to go, and chores became a thing. But what was worse was Dad changed too, he loved his parents but he was always more reserved and, I guess deferential was the word, when he was around them. It just wasn't the Dad I knew.

  Then 6 months later he was attacked on his ‘commute’ to work. We were told an American Empire Warthog squadron of 12 had attacked him and killed him before local response forces could muster to protect him. This happened somewhere over Lake Mead. Far way from any American Empire outpost, if you ask me. No one cares about the wasteland of the American south west. That's why it's called the wastelands. The Black Market said they had no idea how the AE knew he was there running low to the ground, in a stealthed black market flying power armor suit version called a Super Cheetah. He was following all the safety and security protocols to approach his ‘work’ and no other recorded AE attacks have ever occurred anywhere in the area. Not even close! I called BS but no one was going to tell a 15 year old girl anything. Someone had tipped them off, or something must have happened!

  Back to the present, the staging area on this side of the Grand Canyon was pretty minimal. It had a few large open air buildings that had roofs to protect the various caravans. Traders, adventurers, prospectors, and refugees that traveled up and down the Maricopa Corridor from Phoenix, through Joseph City to Neu Ca?on, here, and on into Utah and then Colorado, ending at New Telluride. We had started well west of the ruins of Phoenix, and were supposed to join the Maricopa Corridor earlier, but our diversion caused us to cut more directly toward Neu Ca?on and miss that part of the route this time.

  Most caravans were used to sleeping out in the open and guarding themselves. Three other groups had already staked out their spot in the afternoon sun. They might be heading further south and wanting to start in the morning, or going north into Neu Ca?on like us. At least on this side of the rim there was a little shade, and a common area to gossip and swap intel before hitting the trail.

  And a ticket booth to pay for the various hover barges to get you across if you cannot fly yourself. Everything of note for Neu Ca?on, was on the other side, on the North rim, twelve kilometers as the crow flies from the southern embarkation point. The city proper had the skyport, the shopping, houses, government, and even farms that were built directly into the northern rim. The tired levels, embedded buildings and techno-magical architecture made the city a marvel to behold. Too bad the the southern portion of Nevada had the Toxic Wastes, demons, aliens, dinosaurs, and *ahem* Neamans, and even scarier creatures whispered about in the night.

  >>Those walls and full time mercenary force was sounding good to me right about now, Fe.>>

  Sunny had parked the Dozer and was getting out to schedule a ferry transfer over. I began ordering the various synths to line up our convoy in a typical ring arrangement. We would need to figure out who was staying here, and who was going over to the city. After the 3 buses, 2 trucks and trailers, 2 RVs, and our Kombi-Max and its two trailers all got situated, I parked Gretta overlooking the southern rim of the Grand Canyon. This view never got old. I was, however, excited to turn our unearthed treasure into credits. Credits I needed to pay off the debt. And creds I needed to continue working on my synths. Perfect creation is never done, and I needed to keep tinkering. Sunny was rolling toward the manned building that housed the only periment presence on the southern side. The various ferry companies had representatives, or if they were cheap, vid-phones to hire them. Given that we were going to take the Kombi-Max across, all 18m of it, we needed the biggest magical barge they had. I want to keep our treasure secure and underwraps. The Mach 1 armor and pre-war books, (and don't forget the single hide and horns from the first dinosaur kill *ahem*) were valuable and I didn't want it out in the open.

  I got out of Gretta and began to descend. By the time I got down both RV’s were deployed and set up, and Sunny was rolling back to our staging area. I intercepted him and accompanied him to the parked RVs. Miles’s elven RV was organic, alien, and impressive with its fanless hover capabilities. Alexandria’s RV was a beast, over 35m long, glossy white and tan paint, leather and wood interior, it was like stepping into a fancy vid. I have no idea what it cost, but it must have been tens of millions. And they drive it around the wilderness with all of us. I snorted at the thought and turned to Sunny, “We all set to cross over tonight? Or tomorrow?”

  Sunny messaged Miles, and Alexandria, who both joined us outside quickly.

  Sunny explained to us all, “I arranged for a ferry to take us over. I reckon it would be best for us to head over tomorrow. We can set up camp here. Figure out who wants to go over, and then catch the first ferry north.”

  I was surprised that Sunny, and moreover Alexandria, didn't want to check into a hotel immediately but I agreed that we needed to figure out what to do with our loot and set up a guard.

  “I need to head over to sell our salvage findings with Sunny, shop, and check in with folks. Who else wants to head over?” I asked the group.

  Miles surprised me by wanting to head over, before I remember him mentioning something earlier.

  He said, “I would like to accompany you all tomorrow morning. I have a few shopping items I need as well. Estéril will stay behind, to mind the experiments and camp, if that is agreeable.”

  “I would like to head over as well, likely for at least a night perhaps longer,” Alexandria explained.

  Sunny nodded his head and said, “Yeah we plan to be here for two or three days, we can all rest in town and take turns staying out here with our convoy. This should give us plenty of time to shop and get what we need done.”

  I was starting to nod when Alexandria added, “It sounds like Estéril will be staying here and I will have Molly stay here as well. That way we will have at least two folks, in addition to your creations Gabby, here at camp.”

  That honestly sounds good to me, I was a bit worried about how I could split my time between the convoy, town and selling our treasure.

  I replied, “All right. That’s a good plan. The four of us and Squad Leader will head over tomorrow morning in the big Kombi-Max. I can arrange to sell our haul first then split up to do shopping.”

  Everyone looked at me for a moment before Sunny asked “You want to take one of your synths into town?”

  I looked affronted, “Of course, no better back up. I also need someone to guard the Kombi-Max when we walk around town. And they need to learn to socialize if they are going to advance their synthetic individuality.”

  Clearing his throat, (did he still have a throat?), Sunny continued, “Is there a risk to the town, I really don't want to get kicked out of here, or worse.”

  “Oh come on guys. You trusted them to guard you at camp all night long, every night. They protected me from a charging dinosaur and they were a major help in the ambush. They did not go robo’ crazy and kill everyone in the end, when they could have. They are safer than most ‘ganics!” I was getting frustrated.

  “Yeah but this isn’t something we can gamble on Gabby, this is Neu Ca?on the only real city for 1,000km or more.” Sunny looked less concerned but still wasn't letting this go.

  “Amigazo Sunny, this is my job, they are paying me to do this. One, I have to show them the progress, and two, if I cannot do this then we have no hope of paying off the loans for a very long time, if ever. They are prepared to pay major money for new product lines. Especially ones that give them a competitive advantage and helps them stick it to the PCC, UAI, RGE or the other corps.” I said with a grin. I didn't mind working with the man, if we could stick it to the other man.

  Seeing as how they couldn't convince me to change my mind, they eventually gave up. Who said old people cannot learn new tricks? Miles is over a hundred, Sunny is older than my dad, and Alexandria, well it's not polite to ask, but she has had some quality work done.

  “Good night all.” I bade everyone farewell and did a quick walk around the minimal camp we had set up. Most vehicles were parked but ready to leave. We didn't need to deploy and set up much, we weren't going to be staying here long. The vehicles and gear seemed to be in good locations and all set. The Kombi-Max was ready to roll out tomorrow. As a last stop at the engineering trailer, I reached out my hand to communicate directly. I directly connected with Big Fe, to make sure the synths on guard had sufficient coverage to continuously watch the entire site.

  We had 4 Hopper-synths on overwatch on roofs and briefly in the air, and 6 road-synths making rounds and watching the perimeter in addition to the normal borg-synth drivers who were temporarily filling in gaps in the camp guards. Nothing would be stupid enough to attack in range of the Neu Ca?on defenses, but I wasn't going to be lulled into a sense of complacency either. I headed back to Gretta and climbed up. As I got ready for bed, I didn't really understand the appeal of a motel room. I get that a big bed is nice, but it wasn't home and it wasn't safe. Curling up into the gently swaying hammock, I felt secure and comfortable inside my armored giant.