Kill or Be Killed
I nodded firmly. “Understood, Commander. I accept the mission.”
I didn’t forget to add the condition. “If we complete the mission successfully, the compensation for the damaged mecha will be handled.”
A satisfied smile curved Commander Gideon’s lips. He gave a single, knowing nod as though he had anticipated my reply.
“Wise decision.”
He tapped the control panel on the dais behind him. “Excellent. Then prepare immediately.”
His gaze shifted to Yuna. “Yuna, coordinate the details with your team. We launch in four hours.”
“Understood, Commander.”
Yuna answered with perfect protocol.
Gideon turned back to the massive holographic screen dominating the front of the command center and gave us no further attention. We offered quiet salutes and left the control room without a word.
Inside the descending elevator, the four of us moved through a heavy silence.
When the doors slid open, Yuna turned to me. “Before departure you’ll need to pick up any required equipment and supplies. Get comfortable with the assigned mecha. Time is short, so move.”
“Assigned mecha?”
She walked ahead down the corridor, speaking over her shoulder. “We’ll use one of Icarus’s standard-issue craft. Follow me.”
She led me to a far larger, more secure hangar than the one we had just left. Dozens of identical mechanical units stood in perfect formation, either under maintenance or in standby.
“IKM-4 Harrier.”
Yuna pointed to one in the middle of the line. “Current front-line mass-production model of Icarus forces. Far superior to the Bugbear or Sparrow trainer. Basic controls are similar, but the weapons and sensors are entirely different, so familiarize yourself quickly.”
I studied the Harrier. The overall silhouette was sleek yet sturdy. Medium beam rifles and missile pods sat on the shoulders, while a compact energy sword hung at the waist. It looked nothing like the Bugbear I had started with.
“Board the cockpit and run system diagnostics. The tech team has prepared any supplies and equipment you’ll need.”
She paused, then added softly, “And… don’t worry. I’ll be going on this mission too.”
Whether she meant reassurance or warning, I couldn’t tell.
I silently climbed into the Harrier’s cockpit. The interior was nothing like the Bugbear or Sparrow—vastly more complex, with layered holographic displays, touch panels, and perfectly ergonomic controls. Everything was cutting-edge and, at the same time, completely unfamiliar.
I powered up the systems and began checking every status.
We boarded our respective craft, completed final diagnostics, and boarded the transport in turn.
Four heavy units locked into their moorings. The ship lifted off, engines roaring as it streaked toward Sector Echo-14.
The flight lasted several hours. Inside the cargo hold the transport was relatively quiet, the only sound the faint vibration of the engines.
Yuna’s voice came over the cockpit comm. “All pilots, move to the cargo-hold center. We have final briefing and equipment checks.”
We opened our cockpit hatches and dropped to the deck. The four of us—me, Yuna, Titan, and Doctor—sat facing one another in a loose circle.
Yuna projected a tactical map of the operation zone in the air. “After touchdown, maintain Delta-4 formation and proceed swiftly to the third research building.”
Her eyes swept across us. “Titan, you take point—clear obstacles and punch through the defensive line. Doctor, rear support with electronic warfare and enemy analysis. And… Jinwoo.”
Her gaze settled on me. “You’ll handle the left flank and provide cover. I’ll command from the high ground in the rear and offer sniper support as needed. Does everyone have the roles clear?”
Delta-4 formation. Left flank. Positions I knew from the game. I gave a silent nod.
Titan crossed his massive arms and looked at me. His voice carried a testing edge. “Hold on—have you really mastered Delta-4? If you haven’t, tell me now. Messing up formation out there gets all of us killed.”
I answered calmly. “I know it. Delta-4 has Titan in front as primary assault—clearing obstacles and breaking lines. I cover the left, Doctor handles rear EW and enemy intel, and you command from the high ground with sniper support when needed. Correct?”
Titan blinked, clearly thrown. “Hah… you’ve got the theory down cold…”
The final briefing ended moments later. The transport began its descent, lowering toward a desolate industrial complex that looked abandoned for decades.
“Target overhead. Descent sequence initiated.”
The massive rear ramp door opened and a fierce wind rushed into the hold.
Yuna’s Silvera moved first. Without hesitation it leaped through the opening, free-falling for a split second before igniting its boosters and rocketing toward the ground like a bullet.
Titan’s Atlas followed. Four enormous tank treads bore a heavy upper body bristling with large-caliber gatling guns and missile launchers. It looked like a living fortress. The machine fired its boosters briefly, controlled its plunge with expert grace, then unfolded a massive braking parachute from its back once it reached optimal altitude. The enormous craft descended like a pleasure barge on that sudden parachute.
Doctor’s Pathfinder was lighter and sleeker. Sensors and antennae protruded from its shoulders and spine; auxiliary drones and electronic-warfare pods were visible on its arms. After a short jump it stabilized and continued descending with steady booster bursts.
Last was my turn. I leaped from the ramp, free-fell to the right altitude, then fired my boosters to brake and guide myself to the landing zone.
“Each craft, touchdown confirmed. Regroup and advance on the target.”
According to Yuna’s orders, we moved out from the landing zone in tight formation, advancing cautiously toward the derelict research facility.
The structure was exactly as expected—decades of neglect, rust, and collapse. Yet something about the place felt unnaturally bleak.
We were almost at the entrance when the warning blared.
“Contact! Multiple high-speed hostiles approaching! Ambush!”
Doctor’s urgent shout came almost at the same instant. From the shattered rubble ahead and over the surrounding hills, dozens of mechs launched themselves at us.
Kwah-boom! Peesh!
Beams, bullets, and missiles hammered the ground around us.
“Let’s start!” Titan roared, unleashing the Atlas’s gatling guns.
“Enemy identification confirmed.”
Doctor’s voice crackled. “Kronos Mercenary Group. Multiple mass-produced Bugbears, and… at least two custom machines!”
Kronos? Had Bulldog finally sent out a pursuit squad? Or were these mercenaries hired by some other faction tied to the facility?
Either way, the situation was far from pleasant.
“All pilots, combat ready! Hold position and respond!”
Yuna’s cold command rang out.
From her high-ground perch, Silvera unleashed a streak of blue energy that punched straight through the cockpit of a single Bugbear.
“Khahaha! Try stopping me!” Titan bellowed, his Atlas absorbing the incoming barrage and pouring out an endless stream of gunfire and missiles from both gatling guns. Several Bugbears disintegrated into scrap in seconds.
Doctor’s Pathfinder rocketed upward, scattering ECM pulses to jam enemy sensors and launching small reconnaissance drones to relay precise enemy positions and numbers.
Thanks to his support, we could see every enemy movement clearly.
The battle erupted in seconds. I jumped into the Harrier and fought my way through the chaos to my assigned spot.
I drew the beam rifle, took cover behind Titan’s wall of fire, and opened fire on the Bugbears trying to flank us.
Suddenly the faces of Spark, Jinx, and Cog 4—my squadmates from that last mercenary mission—flashed through my mind.
“Kill or be killed.”
I muttered the old saying to steady myself. It was the unspoken rule of the mercenary world.
Yesterday’s enemy could be a friend, and a friend could become an enemy. Hesitate, and you die.