●　●　● Akkadia One, Eden Space Territories

At the top of Hexa International’s main office building, CEO and Founder Vincent Vrey’s office was clean and orderly, decorations from his lifelong accomplishments hung on each wall. Several pictures of old war MBI were also hung up, each adorning parts from his previous corporation Vrey Robotics. At the center was a framed technical piece that featured an MBI labeled as the “Vrey B8/VR5 ‘Clarent’” and an artistic approach that seemed to convey this machine had won a war. But on the corner of his desk was a picture of a young man in an old Confederate uniform that read “Lance Vrey, 2140-2163” on the placard. The CEO was famous for his creations, but he might be even more famous for being the father of the late heralded hero of the 2^nd Earth-Space War, posthumously awarded the title of “Harbinger” as treaties were drawn.

From his seat, Vincent, who himself was in his early sixties, was sitting back, awaiting a call to connect on screen he had up in projection mode. The screen then read “Connected – N62 Carrera 80, Bogota, Colombia”. A stoutly built older man with swept back hair and a clean cut beard came up in view. “I see you have a particular special request, Mr. Galeano. How may I help?”

“Mr. Vrey, I apologize for the inconvenience, but you must know I only speak to those who run a business, not the ones who run around putting more things in the middle. I am a very direct businessman,” the Colombian businessman spoke with surprising fluency.

“Understood, Mr. Galeano. Please, go ahead,” Vincent continued with his soft, welcoming tone.

Mr. Galeano returned the smile as he continued: “We are having difficulties with, how should I say, foreign interests and our city. I learned from cooperation with others here in power that the service requests made to Infinity will not be enough. We are facing much more than expected, and we only have the bare minimum left in the cabinet before we are overrun by demonstrators and the foreign firepower they bring. We will be able to pay, but we need more than the requested security two outfits. We need at least ten."

“Of course, we can gladly assist,” Vincent said as he sat up. “As as matter of fact, our own intel saw some dangerous encounters occur over the last week and we have already arranged emergency preparations for larger scale security dispatch to your city. All I need for you to do is to wait until we send an envoy on Wednesday. From there your city’s governor will sign and we can let everything develop from there.”

“Sorry, sir, but that won’t work,” Mr. Galeano replied, quickly dropping the softer approach.

“Oh? Why not?” Vincent replied as his brow raised in curiosity.

“The government is powerless. If we are to fight the source of the problem, we need to do it directly and without delay. And if we are going to sign over so much of our money, I want a trial. Proof that your men can do the job and we aren’t being sold short.”

Vincent took a moment to ponder the request before continuing, still calm. “Alright, I cannot breach policy that I have created, but I can send a squadron to air drop over your location tomorrow morning first thing. I will send my best scoring reserve pilots, but it will have to suffice, seeing as anything beyond that will cause… problems… for everyone, but they should prove our effectiveness regardless.”

“I do not understand. How will one security package help us?”

“Strike some fear into their hearts. It’s just our, let’s say, trial package, but watch and see. Let the aggressors rethink their position for a while, and in that meantime, we will have enough time to take care of the contract fully and legally. Can we agree to that, Mr. Galeano?”

He waited a moment as he hesitated to accept, but ultimately nodded. “Very well, thank you, Mr. CEO. I expect the group here to rendezvous at the coordinates I will provide. We will see how effective they are.”

Moments later, after hanging up, Vincent let out a troubled sigh, pulling up a list of pilots. “Call in these pilots for emergency response, please,” he ordered as he hit a button on his communicator. “It’s a 6-6-18 package. Get it done on the double.” He then leaned back, letting out a troubled sigh. Of course the man is going to be stubborn. He’s the one who helped create their problems.

On the screen, six Ai-20 LTACs pilots and six Av-25 were listed amongst eighteen support crew members. One of the names read “Samantha A. Knight.”

▽　▽　▽

Sam had a dazed and confused look mixed in with her flustered expression as she hauled her bags downstairs and tossed them on the floor by the front door. She quickly and awkwardly approached Al, who had made his first stop by her house in person for the first time in over a year. “Thanks for coming to get me. And yes, mom is still out and about, but I really think this is the only way I make it out of this door in one piece.”

“Are you still sure this is what you want to do?” Al asked, still concerned about her decision.

“Well, yes, this is how it feels, I guess, but this is what I have been wanting to do. I won’t stay gone long with the huge bonus they pay they are giving us for the rushed orders. I said a year, but I think with this kind of pay, I could do less. I also get two weeks off after this security run.”

“Don’t bake down there, wear sun block,” he said with a smile, trying to ease his own fears.

“Dad, we are stuck in an LTAC all day.”

“Look, don’t let anything get to you. You said you already talked to Saff, right?”

“She’s supposed to be here later today since she couldn’t make it this morning. But maybe it’s best to tell her ‘nevermind’?”

“That’s probably best. This is something your mother and I have to come to an agreement on. But yes, we can’t have you in the middle all the time.”

“Thanks,” she replied with a bit of relief. But then again, this is the first time you’ve been this level of supportive for me. What’s the catch?

“Sam, are you sure you won’t be seeing anything besides riot control? I heard there was an old A-7 that came crashing down over there the other week. Those are what I used to fight against, and those are monsters compared to what you are going to run around town with.”

Maybe it’s reverse psychology, again? It’s not going to work. “Dad, that was a one-off; the only time an MBI was ever spotted since decommission orders. But Hexa already trained me on that, and we have anti-MBI outfits that would cut right through them in the event we need them.” She then saw signs that her father’s concerns might be genuine. “It’s going to be alright. They are very thorough with everything.”

“Vrey was always very thorough, indeed,” Al said as he tried to relax. “Alright. Go ahead. Call as soon as you get a chance after touchdown, alright?”

“Love you, dad,” she said with a tight hug before grabbing her things and rushing out the door to catch the cab they called for her. ‘Love you’? Where’d that come from?

●　●　● Bogota, Colombia

Sebastian descended from upstairs to find everyone else lounging around. [I got a response. He sent for ten security packages from Infinity, but we only get one tomorrow.] Knowing Dani would not approve, he already had the ID he took from the turncoat recruit earlier in hand to show her. [They ran this guy. Turns out he was Rocha. Had almost a year in pilot training with some foreign outfit. Things are getting way out of hand, now.]

Just then, Renzo burst into the room from outside. [Bas! Either you or someone was tapped during our ride this morning; armed rioters are headed this way up Carrera 80 as we speak! Get the Caballeros ready! Dani, take the rest up top and don’t let anyone sneak through!]

Everyone scrambled without hesitation or question. One might express concern or doubt considering what type of people were in charge of their paramilitary operations, but when it came to acting quickly and with solidarity, all it took was a word from Renzo.

Sebastian and Renzo quickly headed down the access tunnel which led to a small garage with an overhead door. As they passed through, the two threw off the tarps of two mechs that stood under twenty feet tall from the top of their catwalk, hurried downstairs, then climbed up the access ladder attached to the open cockpit area. They made their way up alongside legs that came down to points for feet, jointed in reverse compared to previous MBI designs with a third balancing point that resembled a tail, appearing much sleeker in build but questionable in armor stability. The two sat in an ergonomic position that had them in a posture that resembled one floating – the pilot was seated at a forward leaning angle of about thirty five degrees and the arms were propped up on angled forearm rests that allowed all controls to be handled by wrist and finger movements only. This kept the pilot’s profile low and taking up as little space as possible within the already tight cockpit space. When the top and bottom folding doors closed, only basic illumination was present as the two put lightweight helmets on and slid visors over their faces through which they would see the world around them.

[Open the roof!] Renzo barked over his headset, strapping himself in.

The nitrolysis boosters ignited, making noise levels far lower than those of more traditional fuel cells. There was a distinct reddish brown tinted trail left behind as the units “jumped” out of the garage and allowed themselves to glide to a halt at the nearest major intersection, watching all traffic lights around them go red from local traffic control getting the signal from the Galeano’s.

Sebastian and Renzo stood up back to back as they armed their tear gas-filled polymer rounds for crowd dispersal. But on each MI-r LTAC’s launcher tube was a mounted anti-vehicle-classed shotgun attachment at the ready if needed.

[Here they come, Bas, all on foot. Expect some armored trucks to follow. Dani, be our eyes. Snipers, watch the back. Only use the gas rounds on the active crowd. Anyone else that decides to ‘slip’ through? Silence them, full authorization from Boss.] He refrained from any useless side-chatter, although normally he would be tempted to question the gall of the impending attackers. Here comes the mouth that bites the hand that feeds.

[Renzo,] Sebastian responded back as he zoomed in on something that had him nervous. His camera found explosives detected from a balcony overlooking their position from a 2^nd floor house a bit up farther the hillside. [Renzo! Rockets, 2 o’clock! Permission to fire?!]

[No, change positions! Traffic intersection behind us, fall back one sector!] Renzo shouted over what was now the sound of ricochets and small caliber impacts ringing off of their armor.

The two MI-r’s leaned back, firing their boosters as they reversed course, now opening pellet fire on the oncoming crowd who had begun opening small arms fire on them. Immediate dispersal of the crowd began as gas poured out. Renzo kept an eye on the main street which was getting difficult amongst the white smoke filling the area. [Switching to mass momentum sensors. Anything big coming through, let me know!]

[Rockets clear. No sign. I bet your ass they move closer, though!] Sebastian shouted back as he took a few more lob shots into the opposite side of the crowd. He took the bought minute to read the signs a few held, calling for the head of their boss as well as the threat they would burn all his compounds down. Other said to free their loved ones. Free their loved ones?! Are they talking about the politicians we just set free this morning?! But without a second more in passing, the same explosives detector alarm went off again as not only the rocket crew before showed back up but another to their left showed up on a five-story building rooftop. [Damn it, that’s two! We’re sandwiched!]

[Radio the boss! We need help from the west! Bas, hide to the left side shadows – hit that 2 o’clock rocket!]

With that, Sebastian switched magazines as he darted to the left, hurrying before the one group could start tracking a shot. [Come on, come on,] he nervously spoke to himself as he finally got the reloading sequence finished. He aimed the barrel right towards the open window, eyeing down the attackers in question. Please, put the damn rockets down... Please... The lock-warning alarm set off his already nervous trigger finger, sending a grenade into the building, silencing both threats. [Damn it all!] he seethed in frustration.