The repair was going smoothly. Too smoothly, almost. With Melas making the exact parts I needed from bits of scrap metal, I could easily replace the parts of the drivetrain that were messed up. Sure, the new parts weren’t high quality and would need to be replaced at the first opportunity, but for now, they were good enough. They'd last till the company returned and it wouldn't be my problem, at least.
The main issues were the heat and the armor. Once I figured out how the armor was set up, which was a series of interlocking plates, the armor itself wasn’t that big of an issue. I borrowed the APC’s jack and used it to manipulate the heavy armor plates with the assistance of Melas.
The heat though? That remained an issue. It wasn't too terrible thanks to a combination of Cold-Blooded and my poncho. New Tress City was also quite a bit cooler than the surrounding Outlands thanks to the shade and plants, but if we were out in the desert? It was a heat stroke waiting to happen even with my Poncho warding off the majority of it. A normal person probably wouldn't be able to handle it for too long. Cold-Blooded proved ever continuously to be a good investment.
Since the vehicle was still running, it also made repairs quite a bit more dangerous than I was used to. On top of the boiling warmth, just one wrong move and my hand could get caught in one of the many moving parts. I'd rather not lose my hand. Adapting to a new chrome one would be... uncomfortable. Especially considering where we were at the moment.
Just as I locked the last gear into place, my hand wedged up tightly past the exhaust, a cry came from afar. “Cover!”
A flash of Insight chilled my arm, though it hardly mattered. My arm was too tightly wedged. Several whooshes of rockets fired through the air and the occasional explosions rang out. The bright explosions shined through the small gaps in the rubble wall protecting me.
Just as I started pulling my hand out and rolling out of the way, a rocket directly impacted the APC. A flash of intense heat burst down through the rubble, flashing over me as the APC rocked. I just managed to get to the edge of the vehicle as it rocked towards me, pressing its weight onto my arm. The scattered armor plates, rubble, and jacks kept me from taking the brunt of the weight. The exhaust pipe though? It seared down, scorching my hand as it cooked my flesh.
I bit back a scream as the APC rocked back, tearing off a section of melted skin from my hand. My hand subconsciously tensed as I felt the burned muscles pull and fire shoot through my nerves. Cold-Blooded kept me from feeling the pain too deeply as it faded to a background throb. Cold reclaimed my senses.
Okay, focus up, Shiro! Just ignore everything else. The sooner I get this repair done, the sooner we can get out of here and to safety. I pushed myself back under, sliding through the sand as I carefully did a final check-through with Technical Expertise. I winced as the heat radiated on my injured hand once more, though the pain was ignorable as I got to work and applied a layer of grease to the repaired mechanism. Sand and great soaked into my hand, causing all sorts of foul sensations.
”Melas!” I called out to the man as I wedged a jack under a plate of armor. “Help me lift this up!”
“Gotcha!” The Nomad squatted down next to the side, dropping his rifle as he cranked the jack. The plate slowly but surely lifted into place as I tried to shift my attention from my burned hand. As soon as it was situated, I bolted everything back to how it was supposed to be. We repeated the process a couple of times, the jack proving to be a lifesaver since I didn’t have to hold the heavy metal plates up myself.
As soon as we were done, the Nomad returned to firing at the enemy alongside the rest of the PMCs. I gathered my tools and rolled out, stopping by my bag briefly to check my hand and apply at least some level of treatment.
It looked disgusting, almost like a cheese pizza with all the cheese ripped off to reveal a pockmarked layer of sauce. Except the sauce was exposed flesh and muscle with a nice layer of blisters. If not for Cold-Blooded, I had a feeling I’d feel quite queasy looking at the blisters all over my hand. I covered it in antiseptic spray, thoroughly cleaned it out, and wrapped a bolt of fabric around it. The fabric pressed harshly into the warped flesh, sending a stomach-churning chill down my nerves.
”You good?” From beside me, Melas shifted back down from where he was shooting and checked on me.
“Nova.” I ducked my hand into my pocket as I tossed my bag back onto my back. I kept my injured hand mostly hidden. It'll heal tomorrow. No point drawing attention to myself only for it to miraculously heal. More attention to myself is something I definitely don’t need. They were already too focused on me considering I was an important asset.
I ducked into the cabin of the APC. Unlike the Sentinel APC-803 I drove back in the pavilion, this one was heavily, heavily modified. A lot of the seating had been ripped out and replaced with messily wired turrets and control systems. Wires went every which way, looking almost as if a toddler had drawn all over the thing.
At the very least, there was some level of order to the systems as mismatched terminals and screens took up the walls. The wires were somewhat color-coded, though whoever was responsible for the wiring had decided to make every single one a different shade of red. Truly a monster. The APC had eight people in it, all but three of which were controlling the various turrets strapped to it.
One of which looked like an Adept, harshly panting off to the side of the APC as what looked like steam flowed out of his throat. The guy was down for the count as a thick line of ash and sweat caked his face. The last two were the driver fiddling with a terminal as he controlled the big gun on top and Hampton who leaned over him, talking in a quiet voice.
“Cover!” One of the operators yelled out. I glanced down at his screen, getting my first view of the enemy since I got here. Or at least one of the enemies. Several of the other operators aimed their turrets up into the sky, pre-firing toward one of the buildings.
What was he shouting about- oh.
A spherical drone about the size of a person flew past a building supported by thrusters on its sides. The drone was tan, like the desert, though it was clearly marked with the pyramid symbol of KairoTech. As it swept by, tanking dozens of bullets as its armor reflected them off, it unloaded with two massive guns on its sides.
The bullets proved ineffective against the APC, barely causing a vibration through our armor, though we weren’t the target as it blitzed the surrounding areas for the Crimson Company members out there. As it got closer to us, though, rocket pods sprang up out of the top of the thing as several fired at us.
The guys controlling the turrets had great accuracy, knocking each of the missiles out of the sky as if a lead net had been thrown toward it. Beside me, Hampton assisted the driver, aiming the main turret on the roof far to the side of where the drone was. “Now!”
The entire vehicle rocked as the large turret on the roof fired, leading the drone as a massive shell shot out. It clipped the KairoTech drone, punching through its side as the shell tore off the thrusters. The drone lost control, crashing through one of the surrounding buildings as a shout went out.
The driver chuckled. “As impressive as always, Hampton. Was real worried about hitting them when they blew off the sensors with their first salvo.” Joy, I’d probably have to fix that too. Now that we could hopefully move though, it shouldn’t be that bad to fix it once we get somewhere safe.
”Zuku! All good?” Hampton asked, finally acknowledging my presence as he stood up from where he leaned over the terminal.
”Should be.” Just need to test it, and we’ll be good to go. I turned off Cold-Blooded, holding back a wince as the pain in my hand returned with a burning fury. “Toss it into drive and test it.”
Hampton nodded, glancing at me before twisting back to look at one of the terminals. “You heard the lady.”
“Chek.” The driver started hitting several buttons. From an outsider's perspective, actually getting the APC to move would look extremely complicated with the vast array of controls. I was well versed in driving one though thanks to my time in the pavilion, so I could easily follow along. Not that I wanted to.
Before too long, the APC lurched, breaking free of the rubble all around it as the drive train screeched harshly. I tapped on the floor with my foot, sending an inquisitive pulse through the metal as I checked on everything. Other than the parts needing to be broken in more, which resulted in the noise transmitting through the floor, it seemed to be perfectly fine.
A shout came from the driver to the PMCs fighting outside of it. “All aboard!”
They didn’t need to be told twice as everyone boarded the APC. It was a bit tight of a fit. The modifications and additions of several dozen turrets made the space more cramped than it should’ve been, though it wasn’t too big of a problem as everyone boarded. If anything, it was the biggest issue for a guy who was going around trying to bandage up the several flesh wounds sustained in combat.
Melas squeezed in next to me as I found a seat near the front. For a moment, I wondered about asking the medic for help with my hand, but then I got distracted as I overheard Hampton’s conversation with someone over comms. Sounded like Ysmor. “… down. Are you up and moving?”
“Chek. The Urjune Company brought out one of KairoTech’s heavy drones. Watch the skies.” Hampton replied.
”More worried about the Growths at the moment. We’ve got them held back from the flank, but we’re stuck in a stalemate. We won’t be able to get through without some assistance. Backup coming from command?”
”Negative. Last I heard they just left the Outskirts. We’re on our own for a while yet…” Hampton shook his head then tapped the driver on the shoulder. “What are our options, Tyrone.”
The driver, Tyrone, didn’t immediately reply, instead looking at several terminals and data listed on them. “Safest to go the long way, lead the Urjune away, then double back and get them free. Maybe five or ten minutes. Could just go now, but we risk getting hit by the Urjune bitches again. We’re running low on munitions too…”
How much ammo did the company bring anyway? Every fight we’d been in they had made liberal use of their guns, so surely we must’ve blown through most of it, right? Or maybe getting more ammo was one of the many missions squads were sent on during the week I was stuck at camp.
Hampton and Tyrone shared a look, though it was Ysmor who replied over the crackling radio. ”We’ll hold out. The bastard’s resistance to magic is really screwing us though. Without any AOE magic to supplement, we’re running low on grenades.”
Resistant to magic, eh? And everyone was calling them Growths… evil plants confirmed? It was only a matter of time, I suppose. If the entity that stalked the warped Aether was truly the same as the one the Circle messed with, predatory plants would definitely spring up eventually.
“We’re moving!” Tyrone nodded and took the controls as he called out. The APC shifted forward, using the ram on the front to bash out and through the building as the entire vehicle harshly shuddered. Shots were still being exchanged with the enemy posted in the buildings, though they quickly turned to potshots as we left the area.
Before long, we were out of the combat zone, trucking the long way around to wrap back for the rest of the company.