You know, that's going to cause a massive logistic issue in the future. We're making copies of a single, imperfect template. That means that any flaw present in this old vehicle is going to be present in all of the new vehicles.
So, for example, if the old vehicle has a gear that would need replacement in a few months, then all of the new vehicles will require that gear to be replaced, all at around the same time.
As much as I would have prefered Aeon (Aeon fo lyfe!) Cybran or UEF is fine, and the SubCom is why I came but the personal interactions is why I stayed. I hope for us to T3 base soon and stat wrecking shit.
Agreed, with a tier 3 base we can have it nice and fully cloaked and analyze our enemy, determine the best point to bring a heavy force to bear against them.. then send that heavy force in.
interesting story so far thx for writing it here is hoping he can travel more or
there gone be more allien threats like the theme ya picked with more local interaction then just cracking up the war machine
As it turns out, Kawahara and her mechanics need a great many vehicles. Go figure.
According to the young corporal, the typical guard battalion is composed of ten mechanized anti-armour platoons (430 soldiers, 80 IFVs), four tank platoons (16 Tanks), two self-propelled artillery platoons (8 SP. artillery vehicles), and two anti-air platoons (16 AA vehicles). In addition to these frontline units, there also exist numerous support vehicles whose purposes range from resupplying units in the field to medical evacuation, vehicle repair, etc.
In total, each unit is composed of over one hundred and forty different vehicles of fifteen different types, several thousand man-portable weapons, tens of thousands of rounds of ammunition ranging from 10mm railgun slugs to 200mm howitzer rounds, mountains of support equipment, and 700 volunteers.
Though your ACU is capable of producing a vehicle in a matter of moments thanks to their simplicity, the fact that your protocrafters reproduce each template exactly means that Kawahara's mechanics need to carefully examine each of the template vehicles for flaws. With each template machine taking anything from six to twelve hours to examine and the sheer variety of machines needed, it ends up taking several days of stop-start work before you've finished replacing the rows of broken down machines with working versions. While the end products of your labour aren't exactly factory fresh, Sasha's mechanics assure the two of you that they won't be breaking down anytime soon and the brutal test drive of select examples confirms it.
"Corporal," you say aloud as mechanics begin to take away the last of the armoured vehicles from your makeshift production plaza, your Shadow automatically opening a radio channel.
Glancing down at your augmented reality map, you spot the corporal some distance away near a nasty snarl of traffic, her feet planted firmly on top of an IFV marked for scrap and her arms waving too and fro as she directs traffic. As your words reach her, you see her pause for an instant and glance in your direction.
"Go," she replies as she jumps down from the rusted hulk of metal; traffic beginning to flow behind her as she does.
"That was the last of them," you report coolly as she starts to make her way toward your ACU.
"Assuming there are no catastrophic problems, you should be able to outfit four battalions with enough spare parts to last them a month."
Catching sight of the corporal's questioning expression as she steps into the shadow of your mech, you soften your tone and smile.
"My ACU would have picked up if anything was liable to explode," you continue much less formally, "it's hardly an infallible machine, but that at least would be caught. Besides, your mechanics know their stuff; if they say it'll last then it'll last."
"Alright," she replies, nodding at a duo of mechanics as they hurry by on their way toward the last of the IFVs, "that's a load off our plate."
"Though it'll be more like two and a half battalions by the time they get to where they're going," Kawahara continues drolly, dropping the formalities as soon as her subordinates pass out of earshot.
"The PLAGF will probably grift the more useful support vehicles and some of the spares if they can. Somehow," she continues archly, "things earmarked for rear areas keep getting sent to the front by mistake."
"Let them," you respond. "It's not like it would take long for me to replace them."
"True," she concedes, before jerking her head at a pair of scrap vehicles sitting nearby.
"Not sure what we're going to do with these, though," she adds a moment later.
Ahh, those. You'd elected to leave them be while producing your copies. You could have reclaimed the rusty machines, but they're not yours or the colonel's and it was easier this way if somewhat less space efficient.
"Backlog them?" you prompt.
"Any that are worth fixing could be worked on later and the rest stripped for spare parts. If the PLAFG are really that hard up for spare parts then you may as well keep them."
"PLAGF," she corrects half-heartedly as an eight-wheeled truck slowly trundles into view and manoeuvres itself into position near the centre of the calcicrete plain.
Man-portable anti-tank equipment, reads the augmented reality text hovering in the corner of your vision as the loose schedule you worked out with Kawahara updates.
"But yeah," she continues as the driver hops out of the truck's cab and gives the pair of you a thumbs up before darting away, "I was thinking the same. I'll let the pit boss know so he can schedule things."
"Let's get to work on this AT gear then," you reply, ordering your ACU to get to work with a thought.
If we finish this quickly enough maybe I can introduce the cooks to food that doesn't come out of a can, you think grimly as you start to daydream about a decent meal.
===================
Grimacing silently, you tug on the high collar of your dress uniform with your spare hand in an attempt to stop the tough material from jutting into your throat like a knife. Still warm from the fires of its creation, not even 31st-century material science can make a never-been-worn-before outfit comfortable; no matter how accurate the body scan you subjected yourself too may have been.
Sighing in defeat as your efforts come to nought, you drop your hand down to your side where it collides with the tough metaplas material of your overcoat with a dull *thock* of impact.
Though not intended to see use in combat, the designers of the Cybran dress uniform were well aware of how often ACU commanders are targeted for assassination, and so they designed the uniform with that in mind.
Primarily composed of a flexible metaplas material that can harden in an instant to block both kinetic and energy strikes, the uniform also features a number of ArmourCrys plates which cover vulnerable areas such as the kidneys, shoulders, and throat. Furthermore, laying just underneath the outer layer of metaplas is a complex network of SmartGel-filled tubules designed to dissipate blunt force trauma and redirect energy strikes into disposable energy sinks.
It's been a long time since you've had to wear one of these, you think as you stare at the tepid colours of the landscape painting hanging on the wall opposite.
After all, it's not as if you had a graduation ceremony like Alfred, or that ritual Athena described going through at the end of her training.
Dismissing the reverie, you glance away from the dreary landscape painting as a loud click sounds from the other end of the antechamber and the tap-tap-tap of leather-soled shoes rings out.
"Lieutenant Colonel Tómasson," says Corporal Kawahara cooly as she nods to the bodyguard standing nearby.
"Corporal Kawahara," you reply, equally formal, as the mountain-shaped man turns and leaves without a word.
Much like yourself, the young corporal is wearing a dress uniform for the occasion, though where yours has a patterned mix of blacks, greys, and golds, hers is muddy grey and olive. The only splashes of colour visible are a sky-blue unit patch on her right shoulder and a set of multicoloured service ribbons pinned to the uniform's left breast.
You, of course, have your own set of service ribbons, but without a device capable of reading the codes embedded in your uniform, they'll remain stubbornly invisible to everyone but you.
Probably for the best that you didn't make physical versions, you think to yourself wryly. Giving how many you have, you wouldn't want to come across as the kind of tin-pot dictator who thinks that terrorizing a backwater planet is a good idea.
"Was the bodyguard really necessary?" You ask Sasha instead, dropping back into the informal rapport the two of you had developed while working together.
"We can hardly have you stealing the art," she replies as she flashes you a grin. Pausing, she glances at the painting you were examining earlier before frowning suddenly.
"Why do we even have a painting of a bowl of fruit here, anyway?" she asks herself a moment later.
"Fruit?" you reply, blinking and turning your attention back to the image, "I thought it was a landscape."
Shooting you a disbelieving look Kawahara leans in toward the picture and cocks her head to the side, her eyes gradually narrowing as she scans her gaze across the image.
"... Huh," she says a moment later.
"So," you say, gently trying to steer the conversation back to important matters, "do you know how long we'll be kept waiting?"
"I'd like to know that too, Corporal," cuts in a gruff, familiar voice.
Turning, you spot the form of Colonel Enric approaching the two of you, a very impressive ribbon board pinned to his chest. As you nod toward the colonel, you can almost feel Kawahara shift into a parade-ground perfect stance beside you; her transition as quick as memory-metal.
From the way he walks to the tired way in which he waves off his cometary tail of staff, it's clear to you that the man has had a difficult few days of late. Even his salt and pepper hair seems somewhat greyer than it did when you first met, and there's no hiding the dark circles that ring his eyes.
Frankly, he looks exhausted.
"Well, corporal?" he asks as he takes up a place before the two of you, gesturing to the corporal to relax.
"We should be good to go any moment, sir," she reports, "I just received confirmation that the final delegates have arrived and so the Lieutenant Colonel should be called in within the next few minutes."
"Excellent work," he responds, some of his fatigue seeming to slip away as he hears the news. Shifting his attention to you, the colonel's cold grey eyes seem to size you up for a moment before the man smiles warmly.
"I guess the rest is up to you now, Iosef," he says, nodding toward the thin sheaf of papers clutched in your left hand.
"I can't think of many ways to mess up a signing," you reply with a wry grin as you glance down at the documents declaring the formation of the Steel Firewall Node, the comment eliciting a tired chuckle from the man and a clap on the shoulder.
"Thank you for setting this up, colonel Enric," you say after a pause, letting the smile fade from your face and gesturing around the room.
"Judging by your expression, I can't imagine that it was easy."
"Hmmm?" he replies, blinking in confusion before shaking his head emphatically, "I had to pull some strings to get people here quickly, sure, but from what I hear the doc was the one who convinced them to take you seriously. Something about a computer..."
He trails off for a moment as if distracted before suddenly snapping back to reality and gesturing at his face.
"This," he says gruffly, "is from the 'bots. The brains at high command think they're going to launch an attack on Hanoi within the next few days so it's been all hands on deck."
For a heartbeat no one says anything. Then, without warning, Kawahara takes a half-step toward the colonel, her expression hardening like ice as she shifts into alertness.
"Are we ready for that, sir?" She asks in hushed tones, sparing a moment to glance around the room for eavesdroppers.
"The VPA are as dug in as they'll ever be," he replies, patting the air. "And the first and second MRBs are ready and waiting. It'll be tight, but we should be able to delay the swarms long enough to get the remaining population out."
If the colonel has any more information he doesn't seem inclined to share it and Kawahara, ever the professional soldier, declines to press him on the matter. As she steps backwards, a loud clicking sound suddenly rings out from the other end of the chamber. Casting a glance in that direction, you see another of the dark-suited bodyguards standing in the doorway to the meeting room.
It seems that they're ready for you.
============
Sasha Kawahara was not altogether unfamiliar with the boring realities of politics.
Even before Camp Mitian had grown to be one of the premier logistics bases in the area, the colonel had spent much of his time dealing with various Chinese officials in order to get Mitian what it needed when it needed it. Leaving aside the fact that he was an American colonel in charge of an international base on Chinese soil, the sheer number of differences between how the US and PRC operated generated friction that needed the cooperation of both sides to resolve.
If gaining that cooperation first required Sasha to provide the right kind of expensive rice wine to the right kind of underling or bus in a team of chefs for a special banquet, then that's what it took. Having been Colonel Enric's adjutant since before he left the US, Sasha had been involved in organizing numerous such things and considered herself an old hand at it, albeit only by necessity.
So no, Sasha Kawahara was not altogether unfamiliar with the boring realities of politics.
But this isn't normal politics, is it? She asked herself as she followed the colonel and Iose- the Lieutenant Colonel into the meeting room, carefully keeping a half-step behind the pair.
This is the kind of politics that gets written about in history books. The kind whose photos and holos are endlessly dissected by intelligence analysts trying to ferret out secrets, and skipped over by high school students eager for the pointy arrows to appear.
The kind of politics that actually matters to people, she finished dryly as she took up a position by the entrance and begin mentally sorting the assembled dignitaries and their skeletal servitors into political camps.
The thickset, all-American NATO representative who hails from Texas: currently doing a terrible job at ignoring the glowing lines on Tómasson's face, but who is surprisingly diplomatic compared to the current president.
The frail-seeming french stateswoman who is at once representing the Western European Alliance and gazing owlishly at the other representatives like they were mice.
The willowy and terminally unimpressed Brazilian woman who is representing the Union of South American Nations and studiously staying a good ten meters away from the American rep due to the recent trade squabble.
The stolid Chinese representative of the Shanghai Cooperation Organization; a man who manages to give off a grandfatherly air despite his gaze having the laser-focus of a hawk.
The elderly UN commissioner: a sanguine Indian man whose features betrayed no hints as to his feelings and who was acting as the delegate for General Assembly members not already represented.
The African Union's delegate: frankly, someone that Sasha hadn't heard of before reading the list of confirmed dignitaries yesterday.
And finally, the delegate for…
Frowning as she came up blank, Sasha glanced away from the nondescript man before he could notice her attention. Normally, she'd write him off as little more than an aide, but the way he stood isolated from the other dignitaries bothered her.
As surreptitiously as possible, she withdrew her Focus from her coat pocket and pressed the silver triangle to her temple. With a thought, she activated the tiny device and brought up the list of expected guests as she casually flicked her gaze across the unknown man.
In an instant, she had her answer. Well, an answer, anyway.
'Christian Delacourt' read the name, an unsmiling profile image confirming it. He had been a recent addition —added to the list this morning, which was an unpleasant surprise— and there was very little information regarding who he represented. Certainly, he couldn't have been from Zero Dawn, they were already represented by Commissioner Lal.
Writing him off as a misplaced aide, Sasha turned her attention back to the dais and watched as one after another, the various delegates signed the document and smiled blandly toward the gleaming ring of cameras arrayed before them. As the spaceman stepped up and scratched a few quick lines of his own onto the paper, scattered applause broke out and a small flock of camera-bearing drones swooped in to capture every angle.
Clapping politely as the delegates began to shake hands, Sasha prepared to get back to the task of identifying the strange man when a priority alert snapped into view.
=========
Good news first and then bad news.
Good News:
The Steel Firewall Node (I.E: you) is now a state officially recognized by every member of the United Nations general assembly. As a state, you can do… a lot, but you are also bound by international laws, conventions, etc.
Furthermore, a Multilateral Memorandum of Understanding* has been signed by yourself and the representatives of several power blocs promising to combat the rogue FARO robots.
*A promise with no enforcement mechanisms.
Bad News:
The attack on Hanoi that Colonel Enric mentioned was a possibility has begun.
At least one attack swarm supported by numerous air assets is making a stab for the city while several smaller swarms seek to flank around and push past the defenders. If local forces break then they'll be leaving a good 100,000 people to the mercy of the FARO 'bots and opening a path to important factory complexes and refugee camps. Likewise, if the flanking swarms make it around the defenders then reinforcing Hanoi will be exceedingly difficult and the refugee camps and factory complexes will be threatened.
These possibilities were, of course, considered by various strategists and they deemed the 1st and 2nd Mechanized Response Brigades suitable reserve forces.
Unpleasantly, it seems that the 'bots have surprised them.
According to reports by Chinese and United States naval patrols, several swarms roughly the size of the one you fought earlier are en route to an island called Taiwan. These swarms will make landfall sometime within the next three hours and the Republic of China's military is unlikely to be able to fend them off without assistance from at least one of the MRBs. As the 'bots are looking to arrive in several places across the southern coast of Taiwan, the lives of over four million people are threatened.
Regardless of whether you choose to assist Taiwan or Hanoi, you'll have at least an hour to build up a base and military force.
===============
OOC: Apologies if this is a little rough. Please let me know about any odd parts and I'll do my best to fix them.
Relations Unlocked:
NATO: Cordial.
Western European Alliance: Cordial.
Union of South American Nations: Cordial.
African Union: Cordial.
Shanghai Cooperation Organization: Cordial.
Zero Dawn: Warm. ????: ????
How do you plan to respond to this news?
[] Go To Taiwan Pros: Ensures that the MRBs are free to deal with the Hanoi swarms. You've fought a similarly sized force before and know roughly what to expect. Cons: If Hanoi starts to look dicey you can't reinforce it in time to matter. The factories past Hanoi are vital to the current war effort. There are millions of people at risk past Hanoi.
[] Go to Hanoi Pros: You'll free up the MRBs to assist Taiwanese military forces. You'll also be saving important factories if you succeed. Cons: The MRBs might not be able to fully redeploy in time. You don't really know what to expect at Hanoi.
[] Something Else Entirely [Write in] Pros: SV sometimes has clever ideas. Cons: SV sometimes has "clever" ideas.
Also, pick an initial strategy to go with your decision:
[] 10 A boot stomping. 20 On a robot's brain. 30 Goto 10: Build as many Monkey Lords, Megaliths and ground units as possible and show the world whose spider-bots are superior. Pros: Monkey Lords and Megaliths are some of your most powerful and versatile ground units. Cons: Vulnerable in its early stages. The Cybran army is the weakest in the galaxy in direct confrontations.
[] Instant Navy - Just Add Water: Focus your initial efforts on mass T2 and T3 naval units to pick apart the approaching robots, then deploy Monkey Lords (assuming you have the mass) and other units to contest the beachheads. Pros: Many of the machine's weapons won't work underwater. You'll reduce the force the FARO bots can bring to bear early on. Cons: Once the FARO 'bots make landfall your torpedoes will be useless. Naval vessels can't halt a charge into cities
[] Beneath a Steel Sky: Put your efforts into mass producing T3 air units and overwhelm the machines with sheer numbers. Pros: Your gunships were easily the most cost-effective units in your earlier fight. The Cybran Air Force is the best in the galaxy. Cons: Stopping a charge with aircraft alone is hard. Who knows how much anti-air power the machines can bring to bear.
[] Something Else Entirely [Write in] Pros: SV sometimes has clever ideas. Cons: SV sometimes has "clever" ideas.
[X] Go To Taiwan
[X] 10 A boot stomping. 20 On a robot's brain. 30 Goto 10
It sounds like the locals have Hanoi covered as long as we can deal with the distraction, while it seems dicey if the MRBs can even get to Taiwan in time. And even if this is a "pick one, other gets fucked" kind of choice, it's 100,000 people vs 4 million in the immediate aftermath and we can probably run damage control if Hanoi falls. Also, Taiwan Number One.
As for strategy, the main flaw of the MonkeyLord++ programming language is the early vulnerability, but we have an hour to build up.
one day we're going to get 'normal' lead times for a snap threat and have 24 to 36 hours. (Let alone the prep times one would see for normal build ups to major ops)
In this case it'd take about as long (if not longer) to gate in as it would to just fly there due to the energy costs of teleporting an ACU, the time needed to build a gateway, etc, but in the future you could certainly see about using quantum gateways to transport things around the planet.
Actually making ACUs/SCUs would be much harder. The way I'm having SCUs work in this is that they tie into an ACUs quantum core in order to use its resource distribution and unit control abilities. Without an ACU present, an SCU would be reliant on in-situ materials and energy, and mostly only useful as a giant mech with kickass energy weapons. To construct an SCU/ACU, you'd need a T3-equivalent science base monitored by a handful of trained personnel operating for several weeks in order to produce the exotic materials needed (SCUs require much less in the way of exotic materials due to lacking a quantum core, but they still need some).
If none of this makes sense it's because I'm very tired and will have to fix it tomorrow.
Acu have literally planet wide teleporters, in game constricted only by edges of the map. Very energy intensive but nothing a one hour of buildup can't handle.
[X] Go To Taiwan
[X] 10 A boot stomping. 20 On a robot's brain. 30 Goto 10
Hmmm....
You know, the only problem with this is the times in the campaign when we see sACUs have built up their own bases, or civilian bases that have the same military-grade turrets operating together (indicating they have a working network,) which kinda punches a whole in your "tie into ACU's core" thing.
[X] Go To Taiwan
[X] Instant Navy - Just Add Water
[x] Go To Taiwan
[x] Instant Navy - Just Add Water
Going to jump on the bandwagon here, for one simple reason: HARMS. It's the single best torpedo turret in Forged Alliance, and for the swarm to get past a decent number of them would be difficult in the extreme, resulting in a likely victory for our mop-up forces on land.
