Wounded Legion: a mech LitRPG novel (Armored Souls Book 2)

by Xavier P. Hunter

  “This is nuts!” Chipz commented. “I freakin’ love it!”

  “How do you guys live with these teensy little weapons?” Lin asked, using something smaller than an Anti-Matter Projector for the first time since Reggie had known her.

  500m

  This wasn’t so much a walk in the park as a sprint through a hailstorm, but the factory defense perimeter was approaching quickly. All they had to do was make it inside and get to the command center. Intel reports showed no juggernauts on hand to defend, so from that point, nothing could go wrong.

  Shit, Reggie swore without letting it sneak out over the radio. He couldn’t believe how badly that thought was tempting fate. There was plenty that could go wrong.

  Wounded Legion was a million miles from home—technically, a lot farther, considering the gobbledygook measurements in Armored Souls for planetary distances. They were far from Liberty Clan territory, but if there was still a mole, Freedom Coach Napoleon could be here any minute to ambush them and take the planet for himself. Dundee Proving Ground was also near enough to two local factions that might have been fine with an independent world in their attic but less OK with a small faction owning it. If they were paying attention to the galactic news notifications, they might show up and cause similar trouble for Reggie.

  No. There was plenty that could still go wrong. Reggie just had to be ready for anything.

  [Secondary Objective: Shoot Down Incoming Missiles 655/?????]

  [Secondary Objective: Shoot Down Incoming Missiles 720/?????]

  250m to the factory.

  “Anyone ever walk up a down escalator?” Chase asked. “Call me crazy, but this sort of reminds me of that.”

  “Keep moving,” Reggie ordered. “Save the clever stories for the rec room.”

  [Secondary Objective: Shoot Down Incoming Missiles 831/?????]

  [Secondary Objective: Shoot Down Incoming Missiles 909/?????]

  150m

  “I can’t even see where I’m going,” Frank complained.

  “The base didn’t move,” Reggie said. “If you slam into a wall, we’re there.”

  Gremlin pulled out its swords and used one like a blind person’s walking cane.

  The missile impacts came faster as more made it through the increasingly speculative aim of Wounded Legion. Night had fallen in full daylight as thick smoke wafted everywhere.

  50m

  The missiles petered out. They were too close. The factory was going to have to worry about friendly fire as Frank slammed his way through a perimeter wall and entered the factory campus.

  [Secondary Objective: Shoot Down Incoming Missiles 1,129/?????]

  The missile count stopped there.

  Now to find the person in charge.

  An incoming broadcast caught Reggie by surprise. There was no video, but the voice over the scratchy radio signal oozed authority. “I am Director Yun Kim of Corpex Munitions. What are your terms?”

  “Unconditional surrender to Wounded Legion,” Reggie replied. “All your people are safe and work for us now.”

  “Agreed,” Director Kim replied.

  [Primary Objective Complete: Force the Surrender of Dundee Proving Ground to Wounded Legion]

  “Wow!” Chase cheered. “Some days we can get it easy.”

  “Easy?” Lin said. “I just spent twenty minutes shooting down the rain.”

  “A win’s a win,” Reggie said. “And with this win, we’re back in business.”

  “The missile business, by the sound of it,” Monty observed.

  [Mission Successful - 7,700 XP - 18,000Cr]

  It felt odd paying himself credits, but if Reggie was a part of the mission, he had to get what he gave everyone else. Even if it left him on the verge of broke, the rest of them deserved the payday.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  One of the great features of Dundee Proving Ground turned out to be that it had a repair facility. Wounded Legion turned off missile production and diverted the manufacturing teams to mechanic duty to get their juggernauts all back up and running at full power. And, due to the magic of Armored Souls’ hangar inventory system, they were all able to re-equip them normal weapons loadouts despite having left their standard weaponry back in the Green Zone.

  And so, with a long drop ship ride staring them in the face and half a night left to play before work stole most of his manpower, Reggie picked a planet along their return route and set up a quick conquest mission.

  Calgon was a proper colony world. They didn’t specialize in anything particularly interesting. Their world wasn’t rich in valuable minerals. None of the megacorps had satellite facilities there. Calgon had farming, light industry, and a little commercial infrastructure.

  What they had was population.

  Thus far, Wounded Legion’s civilian population was tiny. That hadn’t mattered much early on, but as Reggie intended for them to grow, having a civilian base would give them opportunities to recruit cheaper and more loyal NPCs over a wider variety of professions. In fact, once they took ownership, one of his first plans was to hire some guards for the factory they’d just conquered on Dundee.

  “All right, everyone,” Reggie said as the drop ship prepared for its second delivery of the night. “Same rules as last civilian-heavy mission. Bonus credits if we take over without causing mayhem.”

  “Got it,” Chase said. “May-not-hem.”

  Reggie tapped the button to send out the player-generated mission for this capture.

  [Primary Objective: Force the Surrender of Calgon to Wounded Legion]

  [Secondary Objective: Destroy Enemy Juggernauts 0/??]

  [Secondary Objective: Zero Civilian Casualties]

  The drop ship shuddered.

  “What was that?” SwampFox asked nervously.

  “Landing under fire,” Chase said. “It’s OK. I checked the colony defenses. There should be no way they can shoot us down before we land.”

  “Not good for a quick escape if this goes goldfish up,” Frank observed.

  “Landing target is a municipal park,” Reggie said. “We want to get a surrender with minimal impact to the population. That means not mowing down everything in our path on the way in. Capital city. Closest spot it could find to their colony hall.”

  “Wow. I just looked this place up,” Lin radioed across the cargo bay. “How’d a place this nice end up free?”

  “I vaguely remember it being part of the Asskick Collective,” Reggie replied, trying not to make it sound like he spent hours on end studying the galactic map and tracking faction holdings. “They disbanded last night.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Chase said. “Saw some of the drama spill onto the forums. Bunch of cheaters. Faction head got himself banned for trying to access server data.”

  “Their loss is going to be our gain,” Reggie said as the drop ship thudded to the ground.

  Bright sunshine streamed in, and their first view of the planetary surface was a well-maintained grassy lawn. The drop ship’s restraints released all at once, and the scouts poured down the gang ramp.

  TARGET DATA ACQUIRED

  The mini-map lit like a game of Asteroids with enemies closing in from all directions.

  “Yulong, use the drop ship as cover and keep them from taking it out,” Reggie said. “I want Gremlin acting like a snow plow down Hobarth Street.”

  “What ‘n a what, now?” Frank spluttered.

  “Check your map,” Reggie said. “Zoom in twice and you’ll see the street name.”

  “I’ll be damned,” Frank said. “Ain’t that a thing.”

  “Diablo, Spike, left and right flanks, respectively,” Reggie ordered. “We’re making a beeline for their government center. Artemis and Alvin, spot targets for Yulong. Everyone else, follow Gremlin. I expect them to reinforce the city center when they figure out where we’re headed.”

  The wedge formation charged down Hobarth Street at Gremlin’s max speed—which wasn’t much of a charge for anyone but Frank. Reggie tried to remind
himself that any juggernauts they didn’t kill would be under his control as faction-bound NPCs soon. Wipe out Calgon’s defenses and they’d be ripe for reconquest. As it stood, he was already hoping to split those defenses to reinforce Dundee.

  [Secondary Objective FAILED: Zero Civilian Casualties]

  “Dude!” Chase exclaimed as the message popped up for everyone.

  “The delivery van was right in my path,” Frank argued. “Can’t blame this thing for handling like a semi truck on ice skates.”

  Reggie sighed. So long as it was a single civilian vehicle, he could live with the fallout. NPC morale was a finicky thing to begin with. Rebellions were for planetary dictators who enslaved populations and kept harems of captured civilians. But making the citizens of Calgon feel unsafe around Wounded Legion could potentially cancel out morale boosts to production and income down the line.

  “That’s not license to start wrecking houses, people,” Reggie reminded everyone. “We’ve got to protect these people, and I’m willing to start while they’re still aligned with the opposition.”

  No sooner had the chorus of acknowledgments died down when the warmth of their reassurances ran cold in Reggie’s belly. A notification popped up. Thanks to Reggie adjusting the faction push notification thresholds, everyone else would be seeing it at the same time as him.

  [Dundee Proving Ground Under Attack by Liberty Clan]

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Chase said.

  “Do we head back?” June asked.

  “Negative,” Reggie said. “We’re committed here. We take Calgon, then reassess our situation.”

  [Secondary Objective: Destroy Enemy Juggernauts 1/??]

  “Don’t worry,” Lin said. “I’m kneecapping when I can, but that little guy was too quick to aim at his legs.”

  “Keep chugging, Frank,” Reggie ordered.

  The colony hall was a white stone building with columns and a gold-capped dome. This was looking like clear sailing.

  Then, from around either corner of the colony hall, a pair of Shinigamis poked out bearing Mass Drivers.

  Frank veered instantly for the one on the right. “I got this side!”

  The one on the left took aim at Reggie, and he winced in anticipation of the impact. Vortex rocked back under the blow as a slug slammed into its head. A crack snaked along the glass of the forward window. The juggernaut’s head armor was down to 28/40 after the first impact.

  Gremlin took a blow that barely registered on its massive torso armor, not even leaving the pristine green color of intact armor.

  “Let Frank have that one. The rest of you circle wide left,” Reggie ordered.

  “What about you?” Chase asked, noticing that Reggie wasn’t swerving aside.

  “Someone’s got to draw this thing’s fire.”

  Reggie was exposed. The colony hall was surrounded by a pleasant pedestrian mall lined with footpaths and human-scale monuments that were more a tripping hazard than potential cover.

  Shinigami[1] took aim at Reggie again, and rather than fire back, he raised Vortex’s left arm to shield its head. The Mass Driver shot wrenched the arm, and Reggie caught the brief flash on the status panel that indicated Hardened Systems had prevented an actuator failure.

  By now, though, the rest of the detachment was flanking Shinigami[1]’s position. Beam Cannon-S fire mixed with Minigun and Plasma Cannon blasts. Woodpecker shots chipped away at armor all over the heavy juggernaut defending the colony hall.

  Vortex closed in, hugging the building rather than coming around to face the Shinigami head on. When Shinigami[1] declined to follow him around and come completely out of cover, Reggie marched up the steps in Vortex, hitting the cockpit controls to let him out. “Monty, with me!” was his final order before relinquishing his command seat.

  Tallyho switched up and cut across Shinigami[1]’s line of fire. As Reggie climbed down Vortex’s leg, Monty popped out of the Ferret’s cockpit and leaped into open air. Thrusters built into his boots flared to life and slowed his descent just before Reggie reached the ground.

  “Nice move,” Reggie said with an impressed whistle. “When did you pick those up?”

  “Saw it on one of the competition feeds,” Monty replied. “Grabbed ‘em before the last mission but haven’t had a chance to use ‘em till now.”

  “Lead the way,” Reggie said. “We’ve got to find whoever’s in charge and convince them to stand down.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  The front doors were glass and steel with Calgon Colony logos etched into the surface. They were locked, but glass didn’t get on well with explosives, and so Reggie and Monty made it inside in short order.

  Guards poured out of side hallways, but Monty mowed them down as fast as they appeared. Reggie felt pangs of guilt for the unthinkingly loyal NPCs who were only doing their jobs.

  Reggie fired shots as he went, but with a Shooting skill of 2, he was mostly just laying cover fire for Monty, who was somewhere between John Wick and Detective Billy Rosewood in terms of shot efficiency.

  They passed an office door, and Monty kicked it in. A fussy little man in a suit and glasses cowered behind a desk. Monty dragged him out by his collar. “Where’s the governor? Who’s in charge of this planet?”

  Reggie lingered by the door, watching for reinforcements.

  “Paul Price,” the bureaucrat said. “Right hallway. Last door.”

  “Nice to meet you… Jeff,” Reggie said, reading the man’s desk nameplate as Monty shoved him into his chair. “I’m sure you’ll like working for Wounded Legion.”

  The pair made their way to the office Jeff had described, blasting through the door lock. Inside was a modestly appointed office in wood trim with a Star League banner on the wall behind the desk and its occupant.

  “My terms are simple,” Governor Paul Price said, sitting calmly with his hands clasped atop the desk’s glossy black surface. “I will agree to protectorate status. We will give Wounded Legion tribute in the amount of—”

  “Unconditional surrender,” Reggie cut in, aware that every moment he delayed in listening to a proposal he wouldn’t accept was just more damage to Calgon Colony. He aimed his blaster pistol at Governor Price’s head, though he kept his finger resting on the trigger guard.

  “Tribute in the amount of 12,000Cr per day in exchange for Wounded Legion’s pledge of protection from all other aggressors,” Price finished.

  Monty came around the far side of the desk and pointed his weapon at the governor’s head as well. The key difference was that Monty’s finger was resting lightly on the trigger itself.

  “In light of the current circumstances,” Price said without missing a beat or showing a drop of sweat. “I offer Calgon’s unconditional surrender to Wounded Legion.”

  [Primary Objective Complete: Force the Surrender of Calgon to Wounded Legion]

  [Mission Successful - 10,100 XP - 15,000Cr]

  Instantly, the Star League banner on the far wall shifted, turning into the logo that June and Lin had come up with—a cracked army helmet on a khaki green background, with “WOUNDED LEGION” in the spray-painted font that the grunts in supply marked on crates.

  About the time Reggie started feeling smug and successful as he walked back to where he’d parked Vortex, the follow-up notification appeared to him.

  [Dundee Proving Ground Captured by Liberty Clan]

  “We got time to do anything about that?” Chase radioed as soon as Reggie was buckled into the cockpit of Vortex.

  All along the streets of Calgon, subtle changes marked the shift in ownership. Star League Coffee Shop had become Wounded Legion Coffee Shop. The flags at the park flew the Wounded Legion banner. Municipal buildings came in khaki green trim instead of red.

  “Yeah,” Reggie said. “But we’re not going back to Dundee tonight. I’ve got a different plan for how to deal with Liberty Clan and Freedom Coach Napoleon.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  “You want what?” Freedom Coach Napoleon asked i
ncredulously from the screen in Reggie’s quarters back at the Green Zone.

  “Peace deal,” Reggie said. “Simple concept. Smart guy like you oughta think of a way to come out ahead. All I’m looking for is a way to put this conflict behind us and move forward.”

  The words came out of the diplomatic corp playbook. Reggie had never been a diplomat, been assigned to guard diplomats, or taken so much as a “here’s what not to say to piss off foreign leaders” course. Closest he’d come to dealing with VIPs not of his own chain of command was being part of a convoy once and protecting a caravan of limos.

  Still, this wasn’t rocket science. It happened on TV all the time.

  “Lemme get this straight,” Napoleon said slowly, as if figuring out the English language as he went along. “You’re getting your ass served to you on a silver platter at my whim. I’m making a profit on every world you lose to us. And you think… what? That I’m going to just back off because you asked nicely?”

  “I haven’t been asking nicely,” Reggie said. “But if it would help, sure. Napoleon, I would appreciate it if you’d negotiate a truce with Wounded Legion. Please, would you sit down with me and hammer out some terms?”

  “Hammers don’t negotiate with nails,” Napoleon said with a sneer. “Listen here, you little piss ant. You’re going to keep losing planets, starports, space stations, asteroid mines, and anything else you plan on adding to your little empire. And if you decide to stop conquering stuff for me to take from you, I’m just going to mop up the last few holdings you have outside your base.”

  “Surely, there has to be something that could make it worth your time to not just keep coming after Wounded Legion,” Reggie argued, reminding himself that better men than him had taken abuse from worse guys than Napoleon—the Freedom Coach, not the French emperor—in the name of peace.

  Napoleon huffed a sigh. “You know, there are rumors that Patch 1.0.9 might introduce base raiding. If that goes live, we are so coming to stomp your little clubhouse flat. Your ass is going to have a slot in it shaped just like my foot from me kicking it so many times. You will be a glorious part of the galaxy’s liberation!”