Mission 4 – Young Magi - Part 1

  TA419 – 09/02

  TSU Owned Asteroid Mining Facility

  Fifth-ranked among Remembrance’s ‘Five Great Aces’, Lady Sesha Thoth found herself surrounded by massive brown rocks on all sides. A little unbefitting of her grandiose title, or so the ace mused. Sesha was a woman who accepted adoration as a matter of course; she was, after all, very beautiful in the most regal of ways. At the same time, Sesha disliked ‘fame’; people who’d never met you looked to you when over fame. Wanted to be beside you, to be like you even. That sort of fame just didn’t sit with her. Becoming a Casnel pilot and a Great Ace seemed like the opposite of avoiding such attention, yet here she was, surrounded by rocks. She'd concluded nothing but to make the most of it, but even that was proving troublesome.

  The asteroid field was a prime mining facility for TSU forces and a perfect target for Rememberence's campaign. This mission was her third such raid if you discounted the attack on Vanadis a few months back. Her Type-B forces had easily swept through, destroying the handful of defending craft, and her Type-A’s had been ready to infiltrate the supervision space station at the centre of the area. That was until one of her men had suddenly exploded.

  "Ma'am, they're too fast, I can't, ARGHH--" cried another over her radio, marking their second fatality of the day. Sesha stood firm atop a particularly large asteroid. Her Chevalier Casnel resting one hand on the hilt of its rapier blade. She'd already given a complete retreat order. Their enemy was the two TSU Casnels their forces had encountered a few days ago around some listening station or other.

  After that battle, where six type B's were cut down in seconds, a retreat policy was issued. There was no point losing the finite resource of pilots in unwinnable battles; they were only to engage if a prime opportunity to probe the enemy's strength presented itself.

  Behind her, the nine ships of her force had moved in close, a clear warning to the Union units that if they pursued, they'd be outnumbered. Around Sesha, the rounded, brown-painted Type-Bs fled, many missing limbs or with scorched armour plating. All considered, just two losses seemed quite fortunate. As the last passed her by, two white mechs crested her vantage point. They came to a halt some forty metres from her; the slim G-types were short for Casnel and clearly built for speed. They seemed rather visually unpleasing to Sesha; her knightly Chevalier was much more suited to the Casnel title.

  “Ma’am, all type A’s are back on board,” a familiar voice called over her radio. Sesha smiled slightly. Commander Seth Abey was something of a long-time friend. Since Remembrance formed, they had been its chief instructors, her for pilots, he for the special ops units they needed to infiltrate facilities - either to steal information or rig explosives when a Vijiak’s rifle wasn’t enough for the job. Like Sesha, he’d hung up his instructor hat to accompany her to the battlefield.

  Abey’s confirmation was a valuable one. When a Type-B fell, it was a loss of both machine and life, but the Type-A insertion craft each carried two dozen operatives; a single loss meant over twenty men, as trained as any of her pilots, were lost instantly. Sesha was a Magi, one who felt an abnormal amount of emotion from her allies and enemies alike, but even had she not, she was fairly sure the loss of twenty comrades would have been upsetting.

  Abey would also take command of the ships, which would be another benefit. Usually, the ship of an ace would have a captain separate from them. The Great Ace title made these captains subordinate to their aces, a somewhat odd arrangement. Sesha took that a step further. She was her ship’s captain, and Abey her first mate. This meant the second mate was in charge when they both deployed. She felt this was fine, no different to if a normal captain had a heart attack and had to leave command to their 2nd in command. Her fellow aces, Kigen in particular, thought this a rather insane arrangement, but that just amused the fifth-ranked all the more.

  Her ships and mechs at her back, the enemy duo paused in front of her, and Sesha briefly leaned into her power. Closing her eyes, hands interlaced, she looked as though in prayer or meditation. She felt a wave of emotion behind her. She felt an interesting caution mixed with determination in front of her - as well as panic and desperation a bit further out - the mining base staff, no doubt. None of her men were out there though, all behind her. Good.

  This was not an arena befitting a battle of Casnels, the first to her knowledge in five years. Given, as she’d taught her students, that Casnel only became the blanket classification following the war, this could well be the first battle between two units dubbed with the word, well, ever. That only made her smile devilishly, arena be damned. Not for the glory of it mind, the Lady Sesha had relatively little interest in such things, but a strong opponent? That she wouldn’t pass up without at least a taste.

  She reached for the control shafts, mildly amused imagining the faces her forces behind - especially Commander Abey - would make at what she was about to do. Throwing everything into a crazed forward thrust, Sesha’s Chevalier zoomed above the surface of the asteroid. The two Casnels reacted fast, the one in the back drawing an arc staff, but the one in front detaching a spear from its arm, 'Now that looks fun.'

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Her target set, Sesha pulled the control grips back, switched off the thrusters and set her right foot to shoot out. It immediately dug into the solid ground as the mech's hand went to her left side. Body coiled, the Chevalier knight came to a crouched stop just a couple steps from the Casnels. She sprang and, in doing so, began the guerilla wars first, but by no means last, clash of Casnels.

  With a lightning-fast draw, the Calabar rapier shot out like a viper. The white G-Type blocked with a twirl of its spear. No time was wasted between them. Sesha took a step back and stood fully upright, sword held out level she lurched again, a perfect fencing point, as though the blade was in her hand rather than the massive paws of the Chevalier.

  With equal dexterity, the G-Type blocked the blow, followed by another and another. It moved its spear with minimal movement, weaving it from side to side, redirecting her blows to scrap harmlessly to the sides.

  Sesha smiled in surprise. This pilot was relying on something other than the overwhelming specs of a Casnel; he was good, as good as she was perhaps.

  One thing was certain as rapier and spear clashed over and over atop that far too mundane asteroid - for as much as she was probing his strength, he was returning the favour in full.

  "That's enough for now, I suppose," Sesha murmured.

  The Chevalier feinted, looking like another lurch was imminent but taking the chance to kick the ground and float back towards her forces. The second G-Type raised its rifle to fire, but its spear-wielding companion seemed to call it off. Rightfully so, in Sesha's opinion. Behind her was not only the nine warships but also all of the retreated Type B's - did these two fancy 'probing' just how bombardment-proof their armour was today? It seemed not.

  The option to expand her own forces to try and swarm the two Casnels was there, but the policy of this mission was to lose as few as possible; besides that, it simply wasn’t Sesha’s style.

  With a pressed button on her comm board to mute a yelling Commander Abey and open the return channel, Sesha ended her little test; "Data acquired, extraction complete. Come along, everyone, it's time to head home."

  Ta419 09/02,

  TSU Battle Carrier Curadh, Captain’s Suit.

  Donald Moncha stalked briskly down the corridors of the Curadh’s officer’s block and into the Captain’s suite of rooms. He was still slick with sweat, and in his pilot uniform. A mad grin was on his face. ‘We finally fought one!’ was the only thought going through the Commander’s mind. They’d been good, using a rapier of all things. The skill required sent chills up his spine.

  The Captain’s suite was extensive on the Curadh. A short corridor, an ornate door on the left to the office, one on the right to Synapse’s quarters and one dead ahead to his personal amenities. Out of the left side door came three men. Though Moncha's smile broadened slightly at the sight of the Captain, it quickly hid itself before the other two men.

  Getting ahold of himself beneath the adrenaline, the commander straightened up and saluted, “Sirs!”

  The two other men were stately-looking folk, but they were getting on in years themselves. Unlike some TSU Captains, however, Moncha could see a little grit, a scar or two, and some facial hair growing in.

  The two appraised the Commander, wincing a little at his unkempt state but didn’t feel the need to make any ‘greater than thou’ type comments. That meant they were probably alright folk in Moncha’s book.

  “Ah Moncha, welcome back. I was just meeting with Captains Trent and Davidas here when the attack began. Their ships were stranded, so they’ll be flying alongside us henceforth.”

  “Good to meet you, Sirs,” Moncha said.

  “Thank you again, gentlemen. I’ll be in touch,” Head Captain Synapse added warmly, showing the two past Moncha and back out into the main ship. A few moments later, he returned with a smile, “Good hunting, Commander?”

  Of course, Synapse had been on the bridge when Moncha was fighting the enemy Chevalier and so already knew what had happened, but Moncha's excitement couldn’t be so easily contained; “We finally got one in the act, Sir! What strength, too! But definitely no stronger than the G-Type, a perfect match, I’d wager, eh.”

  Synapse smiled. He laid one hand on Moncha's shoulder, “Good, good. You did well not to pursue too hotly, though.”

  Moncha chuckled. Battlelust was intoxicating, perhaps, but he wasn’t in the habit of letting it make decisions, “Of course not, Sir. Damn exciting, though!”

  “For your young charge too, I would think?”

  “You mean Chas?” Moncha paused. Chas had been proving to be a strong fighter, remarkably so. Today had been his third launch, though the second time a few days ago, they had simply deployed without fighting.

  The first time at the listening station R-34, Chas managed to strike down a Type-B, which was his first flight. Today, too, he’d shot one fleeing Type-B, an instant kill shot at that.

  The boy was proving damn good. Perhaps too good? He had shattered Moncha’s pre-existing notions about what test pilots could do in the field.

  “He did try to shoot at the Chevalier ya; backed off when I told him to though. Good listener.”

  The Captain nodded thoughtfully, “Well, if patrol fleets and the like keep being targeted, its possible we will gain more escort vessels and mechs. I trust you’ll watch Chas closely even if your subordinate count grows.”

  Moncha smiled. Another Captain might have meant that as a sort of threat, but this was his captain, and he knew the sort of understanding they’d developed over the years, “Don’t you worry, Sir, I won’t let our little ace in the making run wild. I might have the doc’ have a look at him, mind. Could be a whats’it, ya know? A Magi.”

  “Not a bad idea. And if he is, perhaps we have someone quite special indeed on our hands,” Synapse mused. Moncha would have to agree. A trip to the doctors seemed like a wise course, especially if he’d be relying on Chas if they ever faced two of those Chevaliers at once. That idea made the Commander very excited indeed.