Armored Core VI: Fires of Rubicon

Chapter 7: OBSIDIAN WING

"Raven, I was curious, so I've been reading some records." said Ayre.

621 had been able to feel Ayre's hesitancy mixed with curiosity for a moment now. The last of the damaged armor on LOADER 4's leg was being replaced, so they would soon be ready to go again.

"There are AC pilots, like you, and there are operators, who provide pilots information and keep them updated on objectives and the battle state." she explained.

<<Like Walter.>>

It could feel like a change at that. Ayre seemed almost... angry?

"Yes, except they're partners." she said, "The pilot relies on the operator, whose job is to provide support. Walter isn't... he's a handler, not an operator."

...

Carla watched as Walter's hound cleaved its way through the invading Doser forces. It had destroyed surprisingly few of her machines on the way in, but the loss of Rummy and the door squad, even if she had dropped the fuel tanks on them, meant it was time to be conservative with what she had left.

The tourist, on the other hand, was a resource she didn't give a damn about spending if necessary.

Of course, the Junker Coyotes hadn't done anything other than dirty its AC with soot and make it waste ammo on them, which was to be expected of dogs that were intimidated by a goon like Rummy.

After it finished the invaders off, she could send it topside to either get blasted by the PCA's satellites or launched off to a different continent. Either way, it would be someone else's problem.

...

LOADER 4 waited patiently as the elevator ascended, the pilot listening as Carla explained that the PCA's satellites were in range of the upper levels of the grid. It would be a dangerous game. One misstep and they'd be flash-fried.

The doors opened a moment after the elevator reached the top and 621 was boosting through, immediately watching the wide area radar for enemy contacts. A dozen lasers were searching for targets around the bridge area, the PCA understanding that getting across to the cargo launcher would be difficult without it.

"Raven, to your right." said Ayre, "There's an entryway to a maintenance shaft."

621 jumped, boosting into the opening as a satellite acquired lock. It watched the rising energy signature, noting the level at which it would fire, and thus when it would need to time its boost to escape the beam.

A number of small drones filled the exit and were quickly dispatched with a volley of missiles. Ahead, the partial bridge to the other side and the exposed sky, with the PCA's cannons above.

It could feel the fear from Ayre as the next satellite acquired a lock. The bridge would provide excellent cover, and with a quick jump it was over the edge and below the structure before the beam fired, striking nothing.

Below the bridge, 621 found a series of support structures that looked to be big enough to fit an AC. It glided forward, clearing the minelayer drones before alighting on the final support. A few moments were sufficient for the generator to recharge fully before it engaged assault boost, rocketing toward the overhang on the opposite side of the chasm from where it had stood.

Two satellites acquired a lock as it flew toward cover, both failing to find their mark. A tense few seconds later it was under the cargo launcher's main structure, hidden from watchful eyes as it dispatched another group of drones, some of which behaved like a missile and tried to skewer LOADER 4.