87 Wargames and Foolishness

Over the next few cycles, the project became a little more subdued in general. While they were all much more exuberant before, Eva, Miko, and even the Admiral had slowed down their pace.

Their discussions on Godeater had given all of them some pause regarding Prometheus. Additionally, Commander Chase badgered all of them to take things easy.

Not that they didn’t stop improving their connection to their cores. Instead, they worked themselves up to a certain level before they eased off completely. They found themselves able to easily sustain a Promethean Merge for a full cycle, while only needing an hour of rest.

The Admiral had noted that there were diminishing returns after those ten hours had been achieved.

“Our physiology simply can’t handle more than that,” she lectured. “I’ve been able to do ten hours for some time now, and only recently was able to reach eleven. I haven’t determined the exact reason why. I hypothesize it’s just some biological limitations we all have.”

Eva nodded, though she was certain that the refugee players could handle more if it was based purely on biology. Not as though she had any actual evidence – she just simply felt that way. Maybe it was because they were tougher physically. It simply made sense that they were all more mentally resilient as well.

And besides, she had a sense for how fast she was growing, and didn’t feel as though that her velocity slowed. So she easily came to the conclusion that they could handle more.

But she didn’t press it, for many reasons.

What she had learned about Dendrus really shook her to her core. The two sides threw themselves at each other with their knives out, and fought bitterly for generations. Their hatred for each other was steeped in their blood, and there was no washing it out.

.....

War was never something she had enjoyed. Not any real wars, anyway. She felt that it was all a total waste of life.

And she was also greatly shaken by Godeater. It’s very existence truly frightened her.

It was something that was capable of indiscriminate and absolute destruction. It was uncontrollable and unknowable. She felt like she was peering into a void, but didn’t realize at what point she had fallen in.

More than that, she realized that the joy she felt while piloting in a Promethean Merge was only possible due to the devastation that the Godeater had caused.

She needed to come to terms with that.

Equally, she wanted more time to find out more about Godeater and Dendrus. She subconsciously saw Godeater as an enemy, and needed to know more about it. And so, she decided to talk to the base’s pilots. If anyone knew more about either of those things, it would be people who served in the Navy. Even if what they knew was just hearsay and rumor, it might still be worth hearing.





During one of her breaks, she headed on over to one of the larger dorm facilities on base. It was technically above her, at the opposite end of the asteroid. She could easily make it out despite the distance, and had little difficulty navigating her way over.

A short hopper ride later, and she found herself on the dormitory grounds. Because the whole asteroid was heavily defended and housed few outsiders, there was no reason to leave any guards.

But it still had things like guardhouses and checkpoints, though they were practically unmanned.

Not that it mattered. Anyone with ill intent had too many levels of security to get through before they got this far. Presumably, anyway.

So she walked onto the grounds without any troubles at all.

It was all relatively quiet and subdued – the majority of pilots were already out and on duty so the grounds were mostly empty.

The largest building had a couple of wings that extended off to the side. In the left wing, Eva heard a number of them sleeping soundly. She could just make out one of them snoring soundly. She decided to veer away. They needed their sleep, and certainly didn’t need her to badger them about some planet on the other side of the galaxy.
Laughter and cries of excitement came from inside the opposite wing. She quickly concluded that it was likely the living space where the pilots cooled down while off duty. She headed towards it instead, as she reasoned the middle section of the dorm was administrative in nature.

In the living space, four pilots stood around a well-used gaming holotable. The pilots themselves were young and fit, two men, two women. All of them were still wearing their uniforms, but they were partially unbuttoned and worn loose. They were flushed red, a bit from excitement, and a bit from the alcohol they were drinking.

The gaming table was exactly 2 meters square, and had an incredibly detailed miniature landscape of war-torn plains. Its grassy slopes were marred by fallen trees, large craters, and fallen mecha. There were other amazing little details, such as heavily damaged defensive fortifications and bullet-riddled stretches of land.

Each of the pilots had colorful holographic armies on their side of the miniature battlefield, which they took turns moving, fighting, and defending. They cheered each victory, and ribbed on each other’s losses as they played.

One of the pilots moved a number of his units across the battlefield and pushed up against the pilot across from him. A wide grin spread across his face.

“You ready for a beating?” he asked.

“Bring it,” his opponent replied.

The pilot then adjusted his troops so they had great firing angles while behind great cover. When he was done, the table rolled a number of digital dice and displayed their results holographically.

His opponent applied whatever bonuses he could for his defense, then had the table roll his defensive dice. To his dismay, his results were less than average.

The table displayed both of their scores, with the attacking pilot holding the higher one.

Holographic soldiers on both sides of the firefight engaged in their attack and defend animations. A number of them fell over dead, victims of their fictional conflict. The opponent suffered significantly more casualties than the pilot who attacked.

“Dammit!” he yelled. “You’re such a lucky bastard, you know that?”

“Luck? Pfft. Luck’s got nothing to do with what just happened. It’s allll skill and tactical superiority, baby. I put ’em in positions with +50 defense and +20 attack. You wouldn’t have beaten me with your crappy little +10 bonus, not even if you rolled ten Supercrits.”

The pilot then adjusted his troops for maximum defense before passing his turn. He chuckled lightly to himself the entire time.

The next player to go was the female pilot to his left. She cracked her knuckles as her turn started.

“All skill, huh?” she asked. “Is that why you left yourself open?”

The previous player scoffed.

“Look, they’re in Excellent Cover. You’re not gonna beat that. You don’t have Planet Crackers on the field, and they’re the only ones that can get through +50.”

The girl laughed.

“Let’s test your impenetrable battle line, yeah?”

She quickly moved half of her pieces as far as they could go towards the previous player’s starting position. Then she embedded them in his previous battle line and sat in overwatch at his units.

With the other half, she charged straight into his battle formation, right into melee.

“You ready for that beating?” she asked.

The other player paled as she rolled her dice. It wasn’t the results of her roll that scared the shit out of him. It was the bonuses that began to rack up even before she was finished.

Bonus Applied! Combined Arms

Bonus Applied! Melee Charge

Bonus Applied! Overwatch Fervor

When all was said and done, she had a +300% bonus to her attack roll, and negated his defensive bonuses at the same time.

It didn’t even matter what he rolled on his end. Sure, she took some damage, and had a good amount of casualties. But her losses were nothing compared to his. Every single one of his soldiers fell.

Their death animations were followed by a huge black skull as his army was annihilated in one fell swoop.

He took a swig of his drink as her units automatically took over the spots his units previously occupied. Now she benefited greatly from +50 defense.

The female pilot put her hand on the previous pilot’s shoulder, and comforted him with a squeeze.

“It’s okay, man,” she said. “You gotta use Combat Synergy with your units. That’s the real big brain shit in this game. Like right now, these guys are still providing overwatch, so if anyone was to do a combined arms charge against my forward battle line, it wouldn’t work. They’d get put down instead.”

The other two pilots jeered at the loser, and handed him another drink.

“Losers boozers,” said one.

He nodded in defeat, cracked open the new drink, and then slammed it all back in one gulp. Alcohol rushed through him, and he wobbled from dizziness.

“Im’ma get you all next skirmish,” he said with a grin.

A fifth, rather feminine voice penetrated the air.

“Hey, that looks really cool,” it said. “Mind if I watch?”

The four pilots quickly turned towards the source, and found an absolute beauty before their eyes. The two men stammered, and were speechless at the sight.

The female pilot who had just finished up her turn pointed right at her, and stammered.

“Y-you’re Freya! Holy hell!”

Eva blushed and scratched the back of her head. She still wasn’t used to all the attention she got, and was still flustered by it. But it certainly felt nice to be recognized. It made her feel like she had accomplished something.

She gave a quick wave in response.

“Hi! Yea! Sorry, I forgot you all watch the ‘Cast.”

“Ugh! It’s the best! And hell yeah you can watch us play! That would be crazy awesome!”

“You could also play instead,” chimed in another. “I mean, it’s really fun!”

“Ah, maybe later?” replied Eva. “It all looks a bit complicated. And it’s probably for the best that I just watched first.”

“Naww. Sure, there’s a lot to learn, but if you just jump in, we’ll help you figure it out.”

Eva thought about it for a moment, then nodded. Why hold back? Wasn’t this something she swore off of in her new life?

“Sure, fuck it,” she said.

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