Slayer Anderson
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Winning Peace - Chapter 37
🕑 Added 2024-07-15 13:20:54 +0000 UTCThey'd finally sent out the gundam corps after the fifth antimatter volley.
I hadn't patched myself into their communications, but I estimated it was probably a move made out of frustration rather than tactical consideration. They were the last resort, then.
I felt my lips pull back as the machines were launched from the small corsair vessels. Among the astral navy, they were colloquially referred to as 'chariots.' Mainly because the larger carriers disdained carrying mecha. Their only firm place was among the few super-carriers and dedicated orbital installations.
But, due to their widespread popularity as the flagship PR unit of the Alliance, they had to be fielded. So it'd become regular doctrine in the last year to create fast response units of sub-frigate class ships which carried a pair of mobile suits apiece along with a modular weaponry loadout which could serve as support craft and supplemental scouts.
As the set of four suits dropped from the smaller crafts' launchers, a part of me squealed like a teenage girl.
I'm doing it! I'm having a giant robot fight!
I mean, sure, I'd had a lot of practice matches against my various students, but there was a difference between the firm knowledge that you were protected by the rules of a simulation and an actual battle with people who were fighting without a safety net.
“This is Thunderbolt Lead to unidentified mobile suit! You are to disengage your weaponry and power down your reactors! This is your only warning!”
I chuckled to myself as the network of companion drones circled the FA-78 Full Armor Custom in blue and gold SA colors. If nothing else, I admired the bravado. I wondered if he'd chosen that specific suit or if it had been chosen for him.
Calculating my angles, I fired my thrusters to put me at an oblique angle to the SA fleet and fired off a trio of shots from my beam rifle. The heavy energy cannon's shot slammed through the energy shielding which one of the drones snapped up, degrading its power. Once through, though, the remainder splashed harmlessly against the enhanced physical shield.
“Good boy, not getting too overconfident,” I muttered with a smirk. Even with the nanolaminate armor, he hadn’t tried to tank the blast with his body.
Out of my six o'clock high, another stream of energy came barreling into my blindspot. Or, at least, what would have been the blindspot for a normal human. Instead, I danced around it with a brush of the solar winds along the wings of my Wing Zero.
Yes, I had made the wings practical and yes, it had involved entirely too much work to be practical in and of itself.
So maybe I'd been going stir crazy these last few years, just a little bit.
Now, with all the pieces set up, a substantial amount of things that had been weighing on me now longer were. I didn't need to hide as much. Even if I had people I needed to protect, that didn't change the calculus. They were as safe as I could make them and being watched over even now by a facet of myself lingering in the house's systems.
'Leaving' the domicile was just as much for Sasha's sake as it was for my own, in a symbolic sense. She was smart enough to know I was just short of omnipresent, even if she didn't particularly like thinking about it.
My attention snapped back as my sensors swept over the next part of Thunderbolt Squadron. Another blue-and-gold SA color custom model, this time of a FP/A-77 Pharact. In addition to a light guard of its own drones, that model was already deploying a personal set of drones, all armed with high-end lasers.
Which were all taking aim at me.
I felt the zero system in the back of my mind kick up a notch, its predictive abilities mapping out probabilities and vectors as my movements sped up to dodge the many-angled volleys of laser fire. For the sake of good sportsmanship, I blocked a few with my shield instead of dodging them altogether.
Another suit came soaring in and the lasers abruptly cut off before swinging with a massive slab of starship metal on a stick. Another block with a bone-shattering impact.
ASW-G-08 Gundam Barbatos Lupus Rex.
I 'flapped' my wings, dancing around another of the incredibly heavy blows. My opponents had obviously decided on a multi-pronged assault, and I had to give them props. One to draw my attention, a second to attack from behind and distract me, and a third to use the opportunity to close the distance and take advantage of their bestial speed and strength in close-quarters.
Regardless of how tough I'd made the mobile suits' designs in general, there were always tradeoffs. Even if someone wanted to wank their personal giant robot waifu, there was no 'best machine' in warfare. In fact, the whole argument reminded me of the asinine discussion on military forums I'd seen a long time ago concerning the 'best tank.'
If you wanted to win, you played the meta. It was as simple as that.
In reality, as in the games I'd created to create acceptance for mechanized warfare (and warfare in general), was about looking at what your opponent was using and bringing something to the field that they just didn't have an easy answer for. Or, ideally, any answer at all. The more resources they used trying to figure out how to counter what you were doing, the less overall resources they had to actually fight you when they stumbled on something that would actually work.
There's probably also something about terrain and positioning and other stuff like that, but when you get to space that matters a lot less than it did when you were locked into a gravity well. There are caveats to this, of course, such as if your orbitals are contested, but the solution to that problem was to git gud scrub.
I tried to parry the heavy club of a sword with my beam saber and felt a surge of satisfaction when it slid through as easily as a wooden paddle through a stream of water. As fun as it would have been to stab something with a giant lightsaber and watch it explode (provided the pilot survived), the nanolaminate material which insulated mobile suits and ships from energy weapons would have been the utter height of stupidity to not include on the melee weapon the MS was wielding.
Such basic application of common sense restored some small bit of my faith in humanity.
Honestly, this entire engagement helped put my mind at ease regarding the military capabilities of humanity, regardless of whether or not they had my technology or not. Their choices weren't optimal, but they were sufficiently intelligent, cunning, and timely as to challenge the discipline I'd seen in the Citadel and Prothean militaries. They were also clearly willing to change tactics instead of simply banging their head against the wall and demanding to know why their skull was breaking and the wall wasn't.
Such a mindset wasn't seen in groups which believed themselves, for whatever reason, to have attained the pinnacle of technology, tactics, or culture.
If you've reached the pinnacle of anything, all that means is that you've stopped moving. It doesn't have anything to do with your inherent superiority.
Because, as much as these tactics and strategies were true...
...they also stopped mattering when you were facing someone a few centuries more advanced than you were in every possible field of achievement. At that point, it became less of a question of intelligent use of resources and more a question of maximizing your species' survival odds off the field of battle using diplomacy.
Because as much as the 'perfect machine' didn't exist, I was using less than half the capabilities of my Wing Zero to fight off an entire fleet of ships, drones, and mobile suits.
As I bobbed and weaved, using my shield occasionally to throw off the Barbatos' balance, I fought off the desire to further explore this duel. I'd already pushed things as far as I could reasonably do so without the possibility of a fatality occurring. At this point my best bet was to start using my superior maneuverability to put my opponents in each others' lines of fire.
And they just weren't as capable of tanking hits as my machine was.
I sighed and, with a burst of speed, put distance between myself and the melee monster, coincidentally dodging another volley of laser fire and beam rifle energy. This one had been cleverly calibrated to spray my sensors in an effort to blind me.
Clever Boy.
“Alright boys and girls, I think we'll call our little exhibition match there for the moment,” I spoke over the radio, absently crushing their attempts at e-war they probably thought I hadn't noticed.
Even the captains in the ships hadn't been content to watch slack-jawed as the MS battle happened! I'm so fucking proud of you kids!
“Identify yourself, rogue mobile suit pilot,” the voice of Captain Darius Alsworth rang out over communications while Thunderbolt Squadron took the time to reorient themselves to prepare for another round of combat.
“This is Ambassador Extraordinary & Plenipotentiary Dr. Ezekiel Lopez,” I replied as I opened a video channel to prove it was me on the other end.
…
I jumped out of my Wing Zero Custom and hit the flight deck in a crouch, waving at the Captain in charge of the fleet cheerfully.
For some reason, he didn't respond in kind.
In fact, he looked downright disagreeable.
“Ezekiel Lopez,” the older man bit out roughly.
“Captain Alsworth,” I grinned. “How's the new drive working out?”
“Performance specifications for the new star drives are classified,” Darius replied roughly. “As you well know, Dr. Lopez. Now, if you're finished making a mockery of the men under my command, can we get down to business?”
“Oh, we already have,” I smiled, opening my arms and holding them out as if presenting him with the transformed mobile suit I'd just landed in his hanger bay.
The man narrowed his gaze and frowned again, this time in subtle confusion. “I fail to see how some unannounced mock battle in front of our extraterrestrial guests is the opening to some kind of diplomatic master plan on your part, Ambassador.”
“That's because you still insist on laboring under the delusion that I'm going to be conducting diplomacy. So do the rest of the Stellar Council and the embryonic Alliance government for that matter,” I chuckled, still giving off waves of amusement.
“If you're not here to conduct diplomacy-” Alsworth began, growing red-faced.
“I'm not because they're not,” pointing to the Hierarchy fleet, making Darius pause in his building rant. “Captain Alsworth, assume your positions were reversed. What manner of diplomatic overtures or agreements could you actually make to another species during first contact?”
To his credit, the clearly angry man took the substance of the question for what it was and considered it. He still seemed upset by the result he came to, even if not quite as much as when he'd assumed I was making a mockery of his command.
“Not much,” he admitted, displeased. “I'd be able to forward our First Contact package, introduce myself and my fleet, answer cultural questions, and defuse initial tensions, but asking me to make any sort of binding agreements with a foreign polity would be beyond my station.”
I nodded encouragingly. “The best you could do would be to present an image of strength, but not aggression. Demonstrate how valuable your civilization would be as friends rather than foes. The threat would be implicit, but the more intelligent members of the other species would be able to see it for what it was.”
“Such as displaying the capabilities of our general fleet, the munitions we use, and some kind of... advanced prototype?” He asked, still angry but no longer furious. “And you just banked on the aliens understanding this instead of properly liaising with me and the other captains in charge?”
“Well, no. Which is why I subverted your communications system and informed them of the cover story I just explained to you,” I smiled, completely unapologetic as the man's eyes narrowed again. “And, if I'd informed you and the other captains, I wouldn't have gotten a good evaluation of your own readiness to meet an unknown enemy. Or gotten to see your fleet's skills in action.”
“So instead of thoughtlessly putting yourself in life-threatening danger, you merely did so thoughtfully,” Alsworth scowled. “Jeopardizing this entire mission in the process as well as putting both myself and my personnel in direct line of fire for any political backlash resulting from your death.”
I laughed outright at the assertion, bringing the man full-circle back to royally pissed-off. “Captain, please be honest with me. Did it truly appear as if I was in any significant danger at any time during the entire engagement?”
Captain Alsworth opened his mouth, visibly ready to spit fire, but stopped just short of that course of action. Instead, he exhaled deeply and, with great apparent effort, steeled his expression back to a more stern and unyielding visage. If one that was slightly more puce than his normal skin tone. “You know, there was some part of me that sympathized with you before this entire debacle. Some part of me that felt you were unfairly demonized for the choices you'd made. Looking at your other achievements, your accomplishments during the Short War, the technological advancements... there's a part of me that still wants to believe you know what you're doing.”
I raised an eyebrow, my own gregarious mood fading.
“Yet your sheer blasted arrogance makes it very hard to give you the benefit of the doubt, Dr. Lopez.” Daris' expression turned even more grave. “The battlefield is not a place to play your games, especially not one involving my fleet nor the sentient beings under my command. Even if you are a political outcast and, by virtue of that, nearly untouchable, you can rest assured that I will have every ship's officer lodging a complaint for this gross display of your lack of sound judgment.”
I sniffed at the declaration and shook my head. “Captain Alsworth, I understand that for a man in your position you believe this to be a grave and serious matter deserving of your utmost care and attention. Further, given your abilities and skills, it very much is.”
Every ounce of amusement faced from my face at the look I had sent the man a half-step back. “But what you fail to take into account are the things polite military historians these days don't like to talk about. I hear they're calling it the 'Long War' now. Cute name for something so desperately horrific.”
My mind unwillingly flashed back to those first days after the bombs dropped, desperately attempting to cobble together every sort of shortcut I could as I watched millions die while governments disintegrated and resource wars flared for what uncontaminated food and water there was left.
A slow, cold smirk crawled over my features as I took a step forward into the other man's comfort zone. “No 'serious historian' wants to admit I was the man behind the stealth drones backing up the remnants of functioning governments or the reason why there were so many logistical, informational, strategic, and tactical mistakes on the part of their adversaries. They seem to think it in some way diminishes the lengths those people went to in defending themselves from ravaging hordes at their doorsteps, bandits, and the Last Dogs themselves.”
The Captain sucked in a breath in time with a general startled inhalation of the taboo of all taboos being mentioned. My sneer widened to a rictus grin. “You want to talk about a lack of good judgment? You come back and see me after you've marshaled the forces of civilization over three hundred different fronts spanning six continents and another hundred islands simultaneously while managing every single line of extant communication still functioning.”
I huffed a humorless laugh and shook my head. “I am the fucking architect of the state you've pledged your loyalty to, you insolent child and I am undefeated on the field of battle a thousand times over with technology that outpaces your entire fleet combined. Do not care to lecture me on what does or does not constitute a threat to my life. If we ever get to that point, rest assured it will be no concern of yours save for the fact that I will be doing everything in my vast power to avenge your untimely death.”
Alsworth, white as a sheet now, stood gaping at the verbal lashing I'd given him and I took a calming breath to recenter myself. Sasha, in retrospect, had been more right than she'd known. I'd been focusing too much on my enjoyment of living the life of a doting househusband and father. It was happiness, yes, but it was a small happiness. Something I loved, but to someone used to operating at such an immense breath and scope, it was also stifling.
I grimaced and sighed, placing a cautious hand on the other man's shoulder.
He flinched.
“You didn't deserve that, Captain,” I shook my head. “I'd ask you to take my most sincere apologies, but I know those won't amount to much in the face of what I've said. Your anger comes from concern for those under your command, the mission assigned to you, and those you have pledged yourself to protect. It seems... I've been away too long. I've forgotten how to more closely leash myself when confronted with those who have less experience handling these matters.”
“I-ah,” Darius cleared his throat, politely shrugging off my hand and nodding. “If you say so-er, sir. Even if my motivations are as you've said, and legitimate for those reasons, I did speak out of turn without properly acknowledging the depth of your experience on the field of battle. Even if it is not widely discussed, it is not unknown. Or untaught, particularly in the military academies. If unofficially.
I snorted, nodding at the peace offering. “Well, now that we've both whipped them out and measured, so to speak, I really should get down to what the Stellar Council sent me to do.”
The Captain stiffened and saluted. “As you will, sir. May I ask that if you have any requests which will make your job easier, you forward them to me as soon as possible? Will you need any time to familiarize yourself with the work we've done on breaking the turian language? I can have a room made ready, if you'd like.”
I chuckled lightly and shook my head. “No need, Captain. I've already completed a full translation matrix for all of their primary languages and the secondary major colony dialects. I'm also fully fluent in all of them, but I'll be uploading the program suite to your fleet's network as well as a set of common languages for both the Citadel and the New Prothean Empire.”
Silently, the data began uploading to their network as I spoke.
Captain Alsworth swallowed dryly and took a deep breath. “As you say, Ambassador. Should I order the shuttle made ready to ferry their admiral and his officers?”
I waved him off. “No, I think I'll just take two or three of your most veteran senior officers with me over to their command ship. That'll give them a more familiar background for the talks and put them at ease. So that's a 'yes' on the shuttle, but for me and a few others. I'll trust you can select a few good soldiers for the duty?”
“Of course, Ambassador,” he saluted again. “I'll get right on it.”
Then he was gone, marching off at a fast clip.
I sighed again, the old familiar feeling of the weight of command and authority bearing down on my shoulders. This time, though, it was more bearable. I had something to come home to, the looming danger was not overcome, but made ready to intercept at least. I stretched, feeling artificial muscles pull and push against each other as I looked around and took in the various men and women who found excuses not to meet my gaze.
That's right, kiddos. Daddy's home and ready to get down to business.
~~~
Daddy's Home, Humanity!
So, yeah, Ol' Zeke is stepping back up to the plate and feeling much better than the last time around. Even spicy enough to get in someone's face about the credit he deserves. Yes, I know that people were expecting the turian diplomacy meeting to take place this chapter, but... I thought it over and realized that it would be a terrible shame if I didn't at least cover some of the little 'exhibition match' he forced.
I mean, what's the point in having gundams if you don't fight with them?
But, yes. Turian fleet diplomacy next chapter for sure. No lie. Promise.
Until then, I'll have... hmm, either a chapter of Nexus Event or the Marvel side of Industrious up in a few days. Then more Winning Peace.
Rock On, Stay Awesome, and Thanks for all your support!
Comments
Heggs
Barbatos and Exia have something in common that I really appreciate in a gundam: they will just fucking hit you with a giant slab of metal and hate. There's something visceral about that that's just missing in a beam saber; I guess it really is a more refined weapon from a more civilized age.
Heggs
Pharact's got similar. But yes, funnels are rad.
Jose Ricardo Passos
I think what should have impressed the people here the most is the fact he speaks the turian dialects and its been like hours since first contact
Ozzy117
Did Lopez get around to building any gundam with 'funnel' technology? Fast small moving objects that fire beams and can form energy shields seems pretty OP.
Diego C
Ezekiel “Gariest Stu” Lopez is back in business, baby!
Pearl of the Orient
Do not care to lecture => Don't you dare lecture
godUsoland
Well damn, Daddy's Home! Lopez came back with the milk, and has the Belt in hand to smack anyone who forgot just how experienced he is :D Thanks for the chapter
Marius Petrauskas
nice
Jokarun
Heh, At the same time he showed off why people didn't want him to be the god emperor of humanity and why he very easily would have been hailed as it.
Vincent Mason
Good to see Lopez nut up and snap back at people criticizing him for once.
Skrubstar
Zeke really hitting them with the “I am the architect of everything here political, scientific, and military you enjoy today,” Side note, it’s pretty interesting to really realize that short of major leaders, most people know Zeke probably from his controversial genome change, with everything else about how he propped up humanity being either a footnote, downplayed, or outright unknown by the general public.
Guilherme Bezerra
What is the point of having super tech and the ability to bring to reality the greatest hits of every scifi show one ever watched and not enjoy yourself. Time for "Daddy" to educate everybody on what happens when you give a "tinker/spark" time and resources.
CallOut4
Damn...he da boz
