Ters-Ly War (3)

  The next day, deep into the night, with the gray skies of the morning threatening to appear.

  In Proteros, a large group of people boarded a heavy cargo aircraft, a plane that already had 4 tankettes inside, wearing unknown armor behind a notorious hoodie. It hid most of it except the helmet's visors, hands, and wrists, all hugging the people's bodies with metal, from an unknown metal, or so it seemed. The President and some others were present, bidding these people farewell.

  Fox and Luis watched the SAs walk into the heavy cargo with dozens of uniquely invited news reporters trying to take as much footage from the entrance. For safety purposes, or so the government said, they would only show when the ‘secret agency’ SAs were bid farewell. Of course, it wasn’t the government who called it a secret agency, but that’s how Lys took it.

  “…” Watching them get inside felt peaceful, but while Luis could only figure what kind of monstrously changes they could make inside, it was Fox who knew what would happen best. Luis stood with his hands on his lower belly, holding his left wrist. Fox stood with his arms at his sides, resting and at ease.

  “Just one thing to say… I have… before leaving.” Fox echoed subtly. Luis turned his head, wondering what he had to say. Fox looked back at Luis, wearing his natural yet rebellious visage. “I won’t fight for your war. Just give me something fun.”

  “…” With that, Fox walked to the heavy cargo. Luis slowly turned his head to Fox’s back, just as the young man entered it and the rampart began closing. Lesly came to him at this time, leaning over his shoulder to whisper in his left ear, “He said he preferred daughters.”

  “…” Luis seemed startled. He blinked, before looking at Lesly, who was smiling. He pressed his lips together, feeling a little helpless. Shortly after, the heavy cargo slowly turned to the prepared, extra long runway. Compartments from its rear sides exerted air out powerfully through vents.

  Seeing the heavy cargo begin moving, with an escort of fighters preparing to follow it as soon as it took off, circling in the air, Luis turned. Walking with Lesly by his side, and Roam behind him, he noticed Fabiola, who came to bid Fox farewell. The Blackflower Boutique had already bought its 5th floor for 2,000,000 credits, but it needed its remodeling first and it was larger.

  The boutique thus had 10,673,700 credits in reserves, while its remodeling costs were being calculated. It was a large 5th floor, which could also be used for storage. So that, and the enormous costs for a cargo lift and an elevator were of pressing matters, but more or less already paid out.

  “Fabiola, is it? Nice meeting you, young lady.” Luis greeted the young woman, who was waving with her hand fully extended up, looking at the departing heavy cargo with the honorable fighters escorting them to war.

  “Ah? Ah! The president!?” Fabiola looked down and noticed the president was looking at her. Of course she would feel flustered, and even more so as she as all alone. Her big black eyes widened, and she looked with mesmerized eyes before gulping down. “President Luis Heartez, hi, nice to meet you. I’m Fabiola, yes, Fox’s boutique’s manager.”

  She blushed and fluttered her eyes a little when speaking of this, feeling embarrassed. Luis nodded, stopping a few steps before her. “That is good work. For a business that blooms this fast and stays stable, it’s no wonder you come from a family of interesting parents.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Fabiola smiled sheepishly and bowed a little, a cute and princess-like gesture that earned smiles even from Lesly. She added after thinking of something, “But this is all big brother’s doing. Compared to him, I’m too soft sometimes. I’m still working to be a good manager, ahem. I still gotta make my pops and mum prouder!”

  “What a good daughter,” Luis gestured with his head to walk with him, which made Fabiola feel slightly proud right away and complied. His praise made her stifle her giggles with slit eyes. She joked while throwing super-interested glances at Lesly, “Oh, president. You shouldn’t speak like that. What if ‘she’ hears about it and thinks the wrong things?”

  “Shhh, don’t tell. This will be our tiny little secret, alright?” Luis smiled with his head low, as if intending to bring this to his and many others’ tombs, as many as necessary. Fabiola giggled and narrowed her eyes beautifully, “Alright, alright. Ehehehe…”

  “So, you are managing the boutique for him now, right?” Luis asked after some idle chatter. She nodded, “Aha.”

  “Then, who is revising everything about his other purchases? I take it he told you about them, not just the new restaurant in the capital.” Luis further asked. Fabiola’s expression immediately turned bothered, showing a powerful sense of being bloated with tasks.

  “Well, for now, I do.”

  “Who does it otherwise?” Luis asked, catching up on that. Fabiola side eyed him. “That would be Miros. He also went to Sargonde to take care of the things big brother didn’t seem to want to be bothered about. I didn’t know he was capable enough to go to war. It’s worrisome to think such a little fella is going to such a place. But while he isn’t here, I’m to be all big brother’s business nanny during this time.”

  “That sounds heavy-loaded. Don’t you need help? I have someone who would be terribly excited to help you in this matter.” Luis nodded slowly and offered, rising his left eyebrow inquiringly, as if he was the one gaining from this.

  “…” Fabiola thought for a second before smiling, looking up at the president who was so warm and friendly. He also helped a little lass like her when in trouble. Now, she could go on dates with that hot, tall, muscular softie she’s been preying on for weeks…

  Luis saw the bright rows of teeth and smirked from the left corner of his mouth. Meanwhile, Lesly was still shaking her head after rolling her eyes when hearing their little, previous bantering.

  … In the heavy cargo, Fox walked from the rear to the front of the large space. There were 4 stationed large tankettes. Instead of being abnormally long, these weren’t too long, but still had a sizable length. They had numerous armored antennas covered in cages-like structures with glass in between the empty gaps to protect from explosions and direct bullets.

  Both had one long-barrel turret at the front, and an automatic anti-aircraft turret at the back, with the ammunition storage below it. These things had their own space parked vertically in the direction of the pathing in the middle, with seats in both sides of the cargo space.

  Fox’s seat was with Nala’s team at the front, nearest to the pilot extended cabin. After passing twice from the rear to the front, first from one row of seats on the left, and then the right, Fox stood before his seat beside Nala.

  He and the other SAs wore what not even 3% of what the Lymocan army has, medium nuclear uniform armours. Those were better and had different, more agile features than the low nuclear uniform armours.

  The latter was from the times when the Green Transformation was on its way to creating worldwide peace. The former was the upgraded version of what could be known as the first version of the nuclear uniform armor.

  A low NUA has super thick and tough armoring, with empty sets for heavy weaponry installed around its back and behind the arms, personnel-grade still. It also has room for compartments for tons of ammunition, capable of resisting some shots from a SS southeastern assault rifle, and deflecting a few from the DLM before becoming vulnerable.

  Resisting explosions is what this low NUA can do, even able to mostly survive a non-direct strike from an ultramodern tank’s shot without injuries. Directly suffering was death no matter what. It was white or black, no gray here. It is also inflexible, making it a hassle to move for incursions.

  A medium NUA has slightly tougher but less thick armor, but this one has incredible agility, also boosting one’s raw physical abilities without losing average nimbleness. This one also uses one’s body secretions to become drinkable, non-disgusting water to drink, increasing the survivability efficiency of these, unlike with the low NUA.

  The medium NUA also has a smaller visor, shaped in a crooked, small reverse triangle that obstructs no vision. It covered one’s head with processed Mintip metal, thus allowing for uninterrupted data-reading, such as military vehicles and the number of enemies behind foliage when found out. Additionally, it could track the trajectory of missiles, rockets, and naval units and aircraft. It was pretty fast and updates its information just as good.

  While it still can’t handle a tank cannon’s direct hit, and a nearby non-direct hit would send one’s bones to hurt, possibly breaking, it has an air propellant. It shoots especially processed air, taken from the surroundings before it is ‘refined’ into that specialized processed air.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  It could allow one to ‘fly up’ for half a dozen meters or so, depending on the user’s mastery, weight, and air currents/density, both inside and out, obviously. It was more useful as planing, while underwater was its best shot, but the medium NUA was designed for land combat and nothing more.

  Regardless, its armor allowed anyone to endure shots from SS and DLM after the endurance around an area of the armor became vulnerable. The processed Mintip was built to recuperate that instability, but it could or not take a bit of time. It absorbed any force and even weakened the shot bullets.

  A DLM penetrating the armor might be as painful as a shooting pebble the size of one’s half a pinky fingernail. One bullet from the SS could be like a tiny heated blade passing through butter. But the bullets wouldn’t penetrate the armor from the other side, unless that part was also vulnerable. The bullets left behind in the armor could be used to become bullets again from one of its incredible installed gut bions, at least of the medium NUAs.

  A bullet from a large pistol would be like receiving a handgun’s shot with the body’s muscles and skin relaxed after a long, warm bath. It nullified the power of a pistol to inconceivable degrees, also guaranteeing the user from the severe damage even small pistols can cause to the body of a breathless person.

  That was how different were both versions of the nuclear-empowered, famous yet secretive uniform armors.

  “Hey.” Fox voiced, and no one had to turn their heads except the person Fox was addressing to know who was it for. Miros lifted his head from checking his medium NUA’s shins, already imagining how it worked and the steps to make every single one of its functions.

  He looked up at Fox. “Yep? What is it, boss?”

  “How did it go in Sargonde?” Fox looked down at the boy. Miros breathed in and let it out with an ‘o’ mouth. “It was all fine. I didn’t say anything about you, but they understood we were from the secret ‘secret agency’ with secrets.”

  Fox tilted his head. Miros continued, “That was a lot of money being moved around. There won’t be any left for something else, only supplies. That’s what you wanted, right, boss?”

  “It’s good.” Fox nodded. Miros returned the gesture, slower and pensive, before saying as Fox remained standing and looking at him. “Boss, thank you for this chance. I know I’m… not up to the task, but Colmillo will mentor me, so have confidence in me.”

  “Also!” Miros took his WID out and showed a rough hologram of a couple of things, looking like small drones. “Thanks to you, boss, my babies are ready to be used. They might be too basic now, but their stealth is really the best. I outdid myself. Mn! Also, I just know this will help me with boss Luis’s tasks, so don’t you worry. I assure you he will like you by the time I improve my babies.”

  “Right! With my mounted equipment,” Miros looked at the tankettes, lifeless and barely shaking on their zone. “I could try building extra propellers, or thrusters, or both! Agh! So many possibilities~. You give the order, boss, and I will get it ready. Mhm!”

  “Mn.” Fox hummed, slightly lowering his back to put his hand on Miros’s left shoulder, saying, “About Colmillo— if you keep behaving like a naive boy, you’ll just waste everyone’s time. So, for now, just worry about your emotional life.”

  Fox then sat on his place, beside Nala, who fluttered her eyes to him before staring ahead with an indifferent and cold gaze. He sat on the right row, while Colmillo was on the left, with direct view to Miros, who pouted with wide eyes, pondering on Fox’s ‘wise’ words.

  … Time passed, 5 hours later, with his helmet on, Fox’s mental command hid the visor. He lifted his head, which everyone noticed. Fox spoke without gesturing, and a few SAs immediately went over to abide his orders, “Equip the parachutes and landing thrusters. Everyone, get ready to fly.”

  The special agents stood up and grabbed 2 large bags from the sides where the tankettes were held, one larger than the other. The larger was brown, with straps at its sides and a disk magnetic bion end on both sides. It was brought to the tankettes’ top at the center, with its straps hugging around it to its belly, whereas the magnetic ends adhered to it with a whispering hum, only audible to the trained SA ear.

  The brown bag wasn’t opened, remaining like that on the rooftop. Meanwhile, the black bag was opened at first, with rather decent-sized devices taken out from them. Those were a square-shaped box with a cylinder pointing upwards, or below.

  They were blessed at the edge of the corners of each tankette, 4 in total below and another 4 around it; on both sides, rear, and the front. They were installed with magnetic bions at the center of the box, which also hummed a bit.

  Once this was prepared, 10 seconds later, the pilots spoke to Fox’s voice just as he took his helmet off and put it back on, wanting to look at the Red paint on. It was drawn by Nala, as usual.

  “Prepare in 5 minutes to jump out, Fox. Lye.” The ‘lye’ was a low, heavy one. This was the first, actual warzone ‘landing’ in hundreds of years, all performed by the special agents of the government. Other than nervous, they felt excited, since they were part of it, too.

  “Lye,” Fox looked at Captain Nauer, Lian, and at Miros before standing up, saying it back without noticing before heading to the center of the tankettes. Miros stood up with a joyous face, while Colmillo did the same as Nala gathered with her team behind the tankettes.

  The SAs were divided to the front and rear of the cargo space as the tankettes were moved to the middle from the sides, sliding sideways with a pincer-hand momentarily holding them to do so. There was a small path in the middle, between every tankette, too. After the members of the representative captains, Miros, and Colmillo walked them to their respective tankettes, with Miros selecting the one with his mounted equipment, Fox stood in the middle of them all.

  Nala and her Team, with some Green and White Bloods which she whispered Fox to get for her team, stood behind one of the tankettes, which Colmillo sat in its main gun’s seat at the front. The other representative captains and the extra Captain did the same to theirs, with those in front unafraid of being pushed out to death when the time came.

  Those 4 at the tankettes' main guns were ready, with only Miros being contented, and Colmillo focused, while the other 2 sweated a little.

  “1 minute before lowering the ramp,” the pilots spoke again.

  “…” Fox took a long, deep breath in, sucking it all into his lungs. He was just about to cough some blood, when he felt the wind and raging speed of the heavy cargo before the ramp even moved. He closed his eyes, returning the visor to his helmet as he could feel everyone’s heartbeats.

  “Lys eat, shit, and sleep dreams with peace, but it isn’t the same in Terka. If we are truly something for a place like this, the ‘so-called’ special agents. Then let’s help end the war quicker. If not, we can go back to eat with warm asses back… home.” Fox’s words sounded in their helmets; also in the cabin.

  Fox looked up, left and right, as the ramp disengaged, ready to be lowered. There were those pincer-hands grabbing onto the tankettes expertly, as if knowing there was especial equipment attached to the tankettes.

  He returned his gaze to the front, his thin, small reversed triangular visor glinting with some morning light sheen, as they faced the east, started reflecting on it, with not a bit obscuring or obstructing his sight. That was the visor’s work alone, not his SA senses.

  “But I will go down there, continue, and then return. I might not have the heads of the leaders as trophies as I did before… But both… Lymoca and the globe will know who did it.” Fox halted for a few seconds, feeling the stronger beats in his SA company’s hearts. “Let me point your eyes and follow me, for the blood of our blood.”

  “Lye!” The SAs thundered. Shortly after, the rampart fell down with the pilot’s voice sounding in Fox’s ears, this time a bit hardened and trembling somewhat. “Green light to ‘fly’, Fox… Lye!”

  Fox didn’t respond. He watched the ramp fall, with the sights of an abandoned city the army still hadn’t gone to, stuck in a large battlefield with the Terkan army west from here, moving slightly south. It was a regular pace, but his eyes timed them at once.

  His mind worked, commanding the pincer-hands to let go, which they did. At the same time, he ordered, “White and Green, out.”

  The representative captains imperceptibly nodded to each other before running forth with great speed. Fox saw nearly a hundred SAs leave the cargo space and plane into the air, diving unto the ground.

  After a couple of harsh seconds, Fox’s eyes frowned in wrathful twitches. He deactivated the holds of the 2 tankettes at the front before pushing the one on his right with his left palm. Immediately after, he turned around to his right and palmed the one on his left.

  Miros looked enviously as the 2 tankettes fell at the same time, exquisitely calculated by force, distance, and speed by Fox. Then, Fox ordered as the pincer-hands of the other 2 tankettes and their holds let go of them. “Blood, tech— out… For Lymoca, Lye.”

  Fox’s perfunctory last saluting words replied to the heavy cargo aircraft’s cabin, with Nala and the other Captain’s SA echelon units running forth behind the tankettes, of which Fox pulled the one on his left forwards. His elbow bent, extending powerfully before turning around with a jump. His left hand grabbed the other tankette’s handle, pulling it a bit towards him, more strongly, making Colmillo sober up immediately. Her tankette left with Miros’s, with the latter wearing an excited expression.

  Fox looked back as he saw the 120+ SAs running towards him. The cargo space’s security door zoomed out, distancing itself from him more and more before it was replaced by the ramp, then the heavy cargo’s belly as it began turning northwards. Immediately replaced by the sky itself.

  Fox’s impenetrable black pools formed 8 in total, with his lips forming a dumb smile. Nala set her gaze on him while the others focused on their front, while the tankettes dived with the force from his left arm still on them.

  Before, when the Green and White SA echelons went out, while the SAs dived directly to the ground, fast and in formation with their air propellants, their 2 tankettes activated their front thrusters. The representative captains’ SA echelons continued down while their tankettes rushed backwards for a few seconds before letting the fall pull them down, using their thrusters to even out the tilting of their structure.

  Something similar happened with the Red and tech SA companies. While the tankettes fully went down, the SAs used the air propellants to rush a little forth, increasing their traveling speed, even if not diving as fast as the other 2 echelons.

  After surpassing the tankettes long enough, Fox looked back at the other 2 echelons while in between the Red and tech echelons, to his left and right, before returning his head to the front. “Tankettes forth. Dive.”

  Pfffsssss~~~~… The air propellants worked wonders, amazing even most SAs who hadn’t had any training or use of it before. They advanced unto the ground, just a few hundred meters before starting their landing preparatives, when Fox jerked his head up, southwestwards.

  Nala followed his gaze, slowly followed by everyone else. Several seconds later, just as they felt doubtful, except Nala and her team, the heavy cargo sent anti-missile missiles, and its small machine guns fired away in defense.

  Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr… tfu tfu tfu tfuh…

  …