Armored Core VI: Fires of Rubicon

Chapter 15: PCA's 'Institutional Backup'

"You again? I'm a busy man. Far too busy for the likes of you." said Snail.

Walter almost laughed at the irritated voice of the second Vesper. Snail's cocksure attitude would get him in trouble eventually, but for now he was here to offer the trump card that would make whatever plan the man was concocting succeed. "So I hear. Must be a tough time to be the Vespers' deputy commander."

"Get to the point," Snail drawled, clearly not amused at his jab.

"The plan to raid the PCA. You're going to need more pawns on the board."

"... Of course. You're here to hawk your services again. Very well. I'll consider that mutt of yours part of the effort."

He bristled at the casual insult Snail threw out. 621 had done what the corporations had failed to do multiple times, and more besides. He'd be surprised if it wasn't in contention with Freud or Michigan for the best pilot on Rubicon now, and still the second Vesper insulted it like that.

"One more thing... Show my hound some respect." Walter demanded, "Gen 4's as good a pedigree as any other."

Before Snail could respond, Walter hit the disconnect button. It was admittedly a childish pleasure, but he reveled in cutting off the arrogant ass like that.

...

It had been a long few months since all of the Vespers had been gathered in one place. A weird sense of déjà vu washed over Rusty as he took a seat next to O'Keeffe, with Freud and Maeterlinck joining them a moment later. The rest of the squad trickled in shortly after, Pater and Hawkins, followed by Snail.

There were only seven now. Swinburne had died at the Wall, shortly before the Liberation Front attempted to retake it, only for the PCA to swoop in.

The next person in line was Pater, who had no interest in inheriting the title of V.VII, so it would remain unoccupied.

Losing a Vesper was a blow, if only because someone else now had to manage his duties as well. Swinburne had been a mediocre pilot and a paranoid, egotistical pain in everyone's ass, so he doubted that any tears had been shed over him.

Rusty might not have celebrated when he heard the news, but a sigh of relief wasn't amiss for not having to deal with him anymore.

Snail opened the briefing again with an overview of the current situation. "As of this week, we have managed to stabilize and slow down the rate of losses to the Planetary Closure Administration. However, we will still be worn down unless we can strike a decisive blow to slow down the Suppression Fleet. To that end, we are targeting the former Bertram Spaceport, which has been seized by the PCA to act as a hub. The majority of you will return to your assignments and mount a short offensive against local enemy forces to distract the PCA. V.IV Rusty, you will be deploying to attack the Harlov communications base, which acts as a relay for comms between enemy squads. Additionally, we will be retaining the services of the independent mercenary Raven to assault the spaceport. With this loss, we can hopefully force the Closure Administration onto the back foot and regain lost ground, and perhaps stockpiles of superior equipment at the same time."

The briefing wrapped up shortly after, and Rusty found himself walking with O'Keeffe back to the hangar.

"Gathering everyone from Belius and the Ice Field just to give a briefing for an op only one of us will be on. It's so stereotypically Snail it hurts." Despite his monotone voice, O'Keeffe was clearly amused by the situation.

Rusty cracked a grin at that. "It's very in character. Guess I'll see you when I see you then, buddy. Take care."

They separated at the gantry for BARREN FLOWER, docked in the third bay. STEEL HAZE was just a short walk away in the next berth, and Rusty found himself looking up at his machine in the stark lights. The muzzle was still on, but it shouldn't be long now before it would roam free.