Chapter 40: Kidnapping XVI - First Contact

The radio beeped and Ares Synton pressed a button to connect to the frequency. The radio crackled as it adjusted its shifting algorithm to the appropriate encryption pattern.

“The target has been located. The tunnels they are in will be outside of academy grounds in roughly ninety seconds.”

“Got it. Thank you,” Synton said. At the same time, he received more data on the target’s location from mission control. He adjusted his mech’s flight path toward the new predicted location. The rest of his platoon followed him in formation, their huge frames displacing the air behind them as they flew.

“Do we even need this many people?” he asked himself again. “It’s just one car of kidnappers. Just me would have been enough.”

On the other hand, the mission this time was extremely important. The kidnapped target was the big boss’s daughter after all. Failure was unacceptable. To send a whole platoon wasn’t too far fetched in this case.

“Who was so stupid as to kidnap the boss’s daughter, though?” He would’ve thought that most people in that profession on Tamsel III knew that the Florent family was not to be messed with. The incentives must have been extremely lucrative if they took the risk... but still, he shook his head. “Foolish. How foolish. All the money in the world was useless if you’re dead.”

“One small vehicle, appearing to be unarmed. A little rat running around in the tunnels, huh? We’ll flush you out soon enough.”

He turned on the platoon channel. “Does everyone know the plan? Remember, don’t harm the car itself! At the same time, don’t give them a chance to hold the Miss hostage, got it?!”

A multitude of “yes sir”’s rang out in reply and he nodded in satisfaction.

If those slimy kidnappers thought they could get away safely just because they were underground, they had another thing coming. Mission control had already identified a section of the tunnel that ran quite close to the surface. All they had to do was collapse the tunnel there, and when the car stopped, collapse the tunnel behind them, trapping them in on both sides.

“Alright! Remember, we were chosen for this mission specifically! Let us prove to Lady Florent that she had not made the wrong choice!” Synton shouted. “Hurry and prepare the collapse!”

He sped up his mech, going from a casual cruising speed to just below breaking the sound barrier now that the operation was almost upon them.

As he pushed his flight system harder, its power draw and signature grew. His platoon’s mechs became as bright as stars to any watching sensors.

 

Captain Terrance Maxwell narrowed his eyes, concentrating on the empty skies ahead of him. 

He had been nearing the midpoint of his shift when the director suddenly called on him. Reluctantly, he rallied half of his available mechs and rushed to accept the mission just in case it was something important.

Lucky he did, because it really was an important incident! The daughter of one the most eminent knights on the continent, or even the planet had been kidnapped right under his nose! Not only might the director lose his job, his own reputation as well as that of the Academy Guards would be dragged through the mud. He can’t let that happen.

Luckily, according to the intel gathered at the crime scene, the criminals had gone on foot through the tunnels. The tunnels in the vicinity didn’t lead to any of the notorious underground cities, so there was only one way they could go—straight until they got out. Such predictability was a pleasant boon.

“I don’t know if they’ll have reinforcements at the rendezvous point though. Maybe I should have brought some more mechs? No, then the academy will be left undefended,” Maxwell said, sighing.

He looked on his radar, at the five heat signatures behind him. It looked awfully little and sparse. “Maybe I’m just being paranoid?”

“Captain, we have reached the tunnels,” one of his subordinates reported.

“Alright, thank you. Follow the tunnels!” Maxwell commanded. “Stay on guard for any ambushes! I don’t believe that these are any small-time actors—they would never have the balls to do this. Keep your eyes peeled and report any abnormalities!”

“Yes sir!”

As he thought about it, he decided to cut his platoon’s traveling speed. It would lower their heat signature so at least ambushers wouldn’t be able to see them coming for too far away. Besides, there was no need to go so fast—all they had to do was be faster than the getaway vehicles the criminals used, which wasn’t very fast.

They had plenty of time, so caution was key.

It was when they had spent five or so minutes flying, cruising at rather low speeds, when one of his subordinates contacted him. He checked the ID—the message was from one of the rare light mechs in the Academy Guard, an Owl Eye.

The sensors on the scout took up most of the internal architecture of the mech, but in return, it boasted a truly prodigious search radius. In his paranoia, he had taken the Owl Eye along with him for his mission in return for leaving the academy one mech short of half a platoon.

“What is it, Owl Two?” he asked.

“Captain, Control has notified me that there are mechs rapidly approaching from our eight about two hundred kilometers out, speeds just under twelve hundred.” 

Owl One sounded worried despite his attempt to sound neutral and professional. Maxwell furrowed his brow, a bad feeling welling up in his stomach. “Don’t dally. How many?”

“Sir, I detected twelve signatures matching medium aerial mechs!”

Twelve mechs! Maxwell swallowed. They only had six on their side, because the Owl Eye was practically useless in battle. Essentially, each of them had to take on two enemies. While accomplishing something like that wasn’t unrealistic, it still depended on many factors. 

“Did Control identify them?” he asked.

“They did not reply to the requests for identification from our advanced warning personnel. However, our database did identify their models. Control should be sending them to you about now.”

“Understood, Owl. Keep me updated. Also, tell Control that they can contact me directly. No need to delegate so much.” As far as Maxwell was concerned, using the scout as a dedicated communication relay was pointless, even if the Owl Eyes’ sensors did double as great signal receivers.

Ding.

With a small chime, the computer on his mech notified him on a pending file. That must be the data on the approaching mechs. Judging from their speed, they’ll be here in about ten minutes—not much time.

He quickly commanded his mechs to stop while he looked over the files. The first thing he looked at was the price of the mechs. More expensive mechs might not be good, but cheap mechs were never good. With some relief, he realized that the mechs were barely better than budget mechs sold in the fifteen million marges zone.

The approaching mechs were likely to be of lesser quality compared to the Guards.

It wasn’t too surprising a revelation, though. Considering that the Academy was owned by Baron Arvent and the Guards were employed by the Academy, it was a given that the mechs the Guards piloted wouldn’t be too bad.

In any case, even though the Guards didn’t pilot premium mechs, their mechs were still the best of the mechs in the mid price range. 

“Lesser mechs, huh? There’s no way we’ll lose then,” Maxwell muttered. 

“Captain, shouldn’t we try to identify them first? Perhaps they were unrelated.” Owl One asked.

“Of course not! We must negate their numbers advantage with an ambush. Take out a few before they can react, and then kill off the rest with our superior skills and machines! All units descend! Follow me!”

However, Owl One had a good point. Maxwell admitted that he had erred—the enemy’s number’s advantage had him so on edge that he almost made an impulsive decision that might have turned out really bad.

It would be a disaster if they rashly attacked and the approaching mechs were just random passersby.

“We’ll hide first. If they leave, we’re good. If they don’t then they’re our enemies!” 

His final decision made, Maxwell looked around for a good hiding spot. He quickly found one—amidst the trees that littered the surroundings was a hill. The trees were decently large, so their mechs would be hidden from visual detection by the foliage, and the hill would block most other kinds of detection. As long as they switched to low power settings and went more than a kilometer out, there was little chance of being detected.

“Down down down! Power down as soon as you find a good hiding spot! Except for you, Owl. Turn down the power, but make sure you can still see what’s happening over the tunnels, got it?”

“Yes sir!” “Yes sir.”

As the Guards neared the ground, they redirected the power from their flight systems to their anti-gravity modules. Gently, they weaved between the trees to avoid knocking any of them over. The mechs awkwardly shuffled around so they were hidden, but they could see lift off without any obstruction when necessary. Finally, the last of the combat mechs powered down, leaving just enough power for a fast-start, as well as functions such as low range communication.

Minutes ticked by while they waited for the mechs to draw closer.

He looked through the files in the meantime. According to Control, the enemy had twelve aerial mechs all in the fifteen million marges range, with one leader machine in the twenty thousands. 

Of these mechs, there were seven laser marksman mechs, two knight mechs, and three swordsman mechs. It was a fairly standard mech force composition with an abnormal focus on lasers.

Interesting. These are mercenaries, then. An off-world force too, since they only have one ballistic rifleman mech. 

In the vast expanses of space, people prefered the light-speed laser guns over the much slower ballistic rifles. Only people who were exceptionally skilled or cocky used ballistic firearms.

Lasers didn’t do that well in the atmosphere, so that was another point against the approaching mechs. He was growing more and more confident of their chances of winning if push came to shove.

“Captain, Control has contacted me with more information regarding the approaching mechs,” Owl Said. 

A bit peeved, Maxwell realized that Control decided to ignore his request to do away with the proxy. “Oh well, nothing to do about it. Blasted protocols,” he muttered. “Alright, what did they find out now?”

“Their identities, sir,” Owl said. “They’re the Terror Riders, a mercenary outfit based here on Tamsel III. They recently completed an off-world mission ranked around C in difficulty a few weeks ago with a rather large haul. They only lost one mech, and their pilot was recovered safely.”

“Mmm... that’s bad,” Maxwell muttered. “I don’t mean to disparage us, but there’s a large difference between people who have experienced live battle constantly and us, who are mostly on guard duty. To put it simply, they’re experienced at battles, whereas we have only trained.”

“Do not put your guard down just because their mechs are inferior!” he warned. 

His subordinates all voiced their agreement. After he was sure that he hammered that caution into their minds, Maxwell singled out Owl again.

“Owl, are they aligned with any faction in particular?”

“Yes sir. They’re part of the Florent faction.”

“What?!” Maxwell couldn’t help but shout. “Impossible! How did they know?”

There shouldn’t have been any leaks. The time span was too slow! As far as he knew, the only people who knew of the kidnapping was himself, the director, and the two new graduates. Of course, there was his team, but he trusted them to not leak.

So how the hell did the Florent Group assemble a rescue team so quickly? Was it a leak from the kidnappers? That was possible...

In any case, since their goal was aligned, there was no need to hide from them.

“Alright, power on and rise to greet them.”

His mech hummed as its systems recovered power. Heat rose rapidly within his mech. By now, both his Guards and the Terror Riders were well within each other's detection range, and the Terror Riders immediately slowed down as they detected their mechs.

It took them a bit to organize into a fighting formation, though. 

I thought they’re experienced? Even my tested rookies can do better.

They were overreacting, though he couldn’t exactly fault them. He would raise his guard if a bunch of strange mechs suddenly showed up.

He immediately contacted the most expensive mech, the one that appeared to be the Terror Riders’ leader. He broadcasted his message for all to hear so there would be no mistake.

“Hail! I am Terrance Maxwell, the captain of the 3rd Platoon of the Academy Guards! Identify yourselves!”

After a moment, he finally received a reply, just as he was getting suspicious.

“...I am Ares Synton, leader of the Terror Riders.”