Debaucherous x Division 6 (Patreon)

Commissioned

Debaucherous x Division

Chapter 6

-VB-

Cooperland
3020.09.16

“Who?” I asked from my side of the vidcall. 

“The Baron of Cooperland Port,” Councilor Georn (from Tor Town) repeated from his side where he was in Tor Town. Probably his home or at the town hall. 

Ever since I have accepted Tor Town as “mine” and stationed proper security, the town has been growing slightly. People from other areas saw what Tor Town had that they didn’t: actual security. They saw how safe it was compared to their towns and villages and had begun moving in. 

Instead of letting the growth happen naturally on its own, I chipped in, using mechs to help build multi-story condos at the edge of the town. It was close enough to the city center for people to walk to without a problem (anyone who claimed ten minutes of walking was being lazy) and had been a minor construction project as far as I was concerned. 

It was super easy to prefabricate sturdy walls, load them up on large industrial trucks, and lay the foundation when there were mechs with hands to do the job. This also helped me to not need to reveal my supernatural abilities aside from the cloning bit, which the locals were still convinced was some sort of Star League tech or a deep periphery tech. 

“And what does the representative of this baron want?” I asked Georn, and saw and heard him sigh. 

“He is making demands. Of tribute that everyone on Cooperland needs to pay.”

“... da fuck?” I asked. 

“It is something that is normal. The barons of Cooperland Port always took a share of the profit when we sold goods through his spaceport but they always also took additional cuts of our harvests and minerals.”

“And he expects me to pay up, too? Did the man not hear about what I did to the pirates?” I asked incredulously. 

“It’s because he has five battlemechs: two Firestarters, a Centurion, a Thunderbolt, and a Jaegermech.”

I blinked. “And you know this…?”

“All of the barons are known to be appreciative of their mechs, and the previous baron in particular lacked to wax poetry about his mechs. On the radio.”

Huh.

Anyways, two Firestarters, a Centurion, a Thunderbolt, and a Jagermech. In order, a line mech, adaptive brawler, and a long-range support. 

In the eyes of the baron, his mechs outtonnaged and outmatched the Enforcer, a Firestarter, mutant Locust, and five “security” ultra-light mechs I had in possession. By local standards, being outmassed by over a hundred tons was a recipe for disaster. That was the weight of the heaviest assault mechs or two medium mechs. 

But they didn’t know what happened, did they? Didn’t know how I gutted the pirates with just the five Glasgows. That they were the true firepower, not my recently acquired battlemechs. 

… Well, Glasgows were about to be replaced soon; the new mech factory I made in one corner of the extensive mines chugged along at full speed now. My clones worked to finish the last bits of armor and parts for the first five Clover mechs. They should be done today, actually, if not before sunset. 

“And what do I get in return if I give him something?” I asked. It was never a bad idea to delay confrontation when I knew that I would only gain more advantage over time. 

“Usually? Nothing,” Georn scoffed. “It’s the cost of living here and the price of using the spaceport.”

I hummed. I didn’t really want to fight over something small like taxes. 

I sniffed. 

“I’ll make my own, then.”

“What?”

“I’ll make my own spaceport. You can tell the baron’s rep that I’m not interested in what he’s selling, and remind him that I am in a Star League facility that has mechs inside of it, okay?” I then paused. “And if he tries something with Tor Town, then I will be doing something about him and his cronies. Remember, if someone threatens you, one of my clones are there in a Glasgow, and you saw what five of those things did to a medium mech.”

The look on his face told me that he did, because I did show him the footage of the battle from both aerial drone’s view and that of the Glasgow piloting clones themselves. To the people of the Inner Sphere and the Near Periphery, the thought that a mech half the height of a Locust could defeat a medium mech, which was almost 15 meters tall.

“I… I understand. And if the baron… decides to get rash?”

“Then he will learn very quickly that mechs are not the only determinants of the battle’s outcome.”

---

“What?!” the pencil moustached herald of the Cooperland Port Baron shouted indignantly. Draped in a rich silk robe on top of the usual tundra outerwear, he looked the part of a nobleman’s servant. “Who does this man think he is?!” 

“The man who controls that mech over there,” Georn noted as he gestured to the mech. 

The herald glanced over, scoffed, and looked back. 

“If you rely on such paltry things that are not proper battlemechs, then you will suffer the consequences of it, councilor,” the man replied derisively. “I highly recommend that you cut ties with this man before Lord Agone decides to end him.”

Georn stood there, looking at the herald, but all he saw were flashes of the holovid where five “things” ended a mech lance that the baron hadn’t even bothered to stop.

“Unfortunately, sir,” he sighed. “This man is close to Tor Town and the baron is far. Perhaps if you defeat him, then we will submit and show him our gratitude… but he is closer with at least three salvaged mechs.”

The herald grumbled before taking a step away, making the snow under his feet crunch. “Very well. I will try to explain to the baron the plight of your town, but make no mistake! He will not be pleased with you.” Then he glanced at some of the young women who had been around to look at their confrontation. “And you know what he likes to do.”

He grimaced. 

Lord Machte Agone was the third son of the previous baron, whose other two sons died mysterious deaths. After gaining his lordship, his two sister-in-law widows were “put under house arrest” as were other “dissident” women while true dissidents were executed if the baron had the slightest evidence to suggest their treachery.

“I understand… but they have eight mechs to our none. We can’t fight that.”

The herald, for a moment, looked at him with pity. 

“As I said, I will plead your case.”

After that, the herald and the guards he came with got back on their convoy of jeeps and luxury brand internal combustion engine cars and left. 

With a sigh, he turned around to face the crowd. “... Go home,” he told them. “This isn’t something we can do anything about.”

It was always the big fish who made the moves that left the people suffering, and while Tor Town had, democratically speaking, elected to go under Marris’s protective umbrella because they all feared what their next door neighbor with exotic technology would do… 

Sometimes, groveling and taking hits was the best that they could do. 

The other townspeople grumbled but they looked as worried as he felt. 

“He better win,” Georn grunted as he went back into the town hall. 

-VB-

Cooperland

3020.09.18

I saw them coming long before they saw me. That kind of thing usually happened on flat terrain where I had more options than the naked eye. But they probably also saw me as well, whoever they were. 

“The fuck?” I muttered as I zoomed in on the heat signatures relayed via the EYE Drones, which were attachables for my mechs. The quadcopter drones, barely a meter wide and long, zoomed in on the heat signatures. The screen on my end at the underground command room split into four smaller screens while my clone in the patrolling Glasgow, whose drone had spotted the approaching signatures, moved to put distance between himself and the signatures. 

And the warbooks I downloaded off of the pirate battlemechs quickly provided me with some hits. 

Firestarters, FS9-H. Centurion, CN9-A. Thunderbolt, TDR-5S. Jagermech, JM6-S. 

That was a lot of firepower right there for a periphery world noble. 

The clone in the patrolling Glasgow broadcasted on all channels, and I spoke through him. 

“This is Alan Marris to the approaching mech lance. You are approaching my property with battle ready mechs. State your business, over.”

To my surprise, someone actually did respond. 

“This is Baron Charles Agone in the Thunderbolt. You are a pretender laying claim to my lands! I am here to put an end to this farce and confiscate the mechs that rightfully belong to me, the lord of this continent!” a brass and boisterous voice echoed out of the radio. 

… Also, no radio etiquette. 

“I’m going to have to disagree about this being a farce, considering that you didn’t even bother to show up to the fight,” I drawled back at him. “If you pick a fight with me, then this isn’t something that’s going to end with a battle. I will go after that port of yours, too. Remember that I took down a mech lance supported by armored vehicles that was about as heavy as your lance right there. I’d think very carefully about the apology you should be saying right now, over.”

Even as I said this, I began to mobilize my troops. Clones quickly stepped up and donned on their gear before climbing into whatever vehicle or mech I needed them in. Tina and Wiska were alerted to the upcoming potential battle, and they wrapped up their inspections for the Clovers.

“I hope you’re funny as you are right now when I drag you out of your tiny security mechs. I will see you on the battlefield.” 

I sighed. 

Some people just can’t be reasoned with. 

Oh well. 

At the very least, this provided me with a much needed field test for my Clovers. 

The clone closest to Tina and Wiska turned to her. “Is there anything I should be worried about?” I asked them. “About the Clover?” 

My two girls looked at me, at each other, and then looked back at me. 

“I think,” Wiska smiled. “The mechs will do better than the initial prototype did.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really, really,” Tina grinned. 

And as my clones began to pilot the mechs and I felt the feedback through the psychic link, I realized that Tina and Wiska were right. 

---

“It’s so slippery!” ‘Lieutenant’ Mary Yue hissed from inside her Firestarter as she tried to chase down the tiny mech. But it wasn’t running from her; it was skating away from her. It swerved side to side on mostly flat ground covered by red, yellow, and green mosses, grasses, and shrubs. 

The endless tundra plains offered the smaller mech so much room to maneuver around her attacks that it was infuriating! 

She fired her medium lasers, but the damn mech ducked underneath her attack without even looking! How?! 

And then it skidded around while still moving away from her Firestarter and pulled its rifle up.

She didn’t even bother to dodge; the handheld rifle wasn’t built into the mech and definitely couldn’t have a higher caliber than an AC/2. No, it was probably a machine gun -.

It fired.

And her shoulder armor disappeared in an explosion similar to an AC/10.

“What the fuck?!” she screeched as she quickly pulled back before a few more rounds struck her all over the mech. She quickly put her mech’s arms up to block the head and torso. She watched helplessly as her mech’s arm armor disappeared before the internals got wrecked. 

And by the time the Firestarter’s arms were hanging on by just the elbow joint, she’d put her mech to a full stop and began to back pedal. She couldn’t allow herself to show her Firestarter’s back; it had less armor than her shoulder and arms, so whatever she was getting hit with would rip right through the back armor. 

But she quickly realized that it didn’t matter anyway. 

Another burst of those projectiles and her torso armor exploded away, leaving her vulnerable.

“Wait, wait, wai-!” 

Another burst.

And the ammunition underneath her feet cooked and exploded, taking her with her mech.

---

Baron Agone stared at the offline status of Lieutenant Yue and her Firestarter.

What? 

How?!

Even if those tiny ultra-light mechs were slippery, they couldn’t possibly have enough firepower to take down a Firestarter! 

Which meant that there was something else out there. 

There was nothing in any of the mech’s sensor ranges, which meant whatever took down Yue was at least 400 meters away from her position, and she had been chasing down one of those tiny mechs.

Which meant that, at a minimum, the enemy was 900 meters from his current position. 

He zoomed in with his Thunderbolt’s cameras and tried to see along the horizon along this rugged but still relatively flat plain. 

He could make out tiny specks in the distance even with the magnification, but not the details… However, he could tell one thing: they were fast. 

“Miniature Spider with the speed of a Locust, essentially, huh?” he muttered to himself. Locusts were hard to hit, but not so hard to hit that he couldn’t fend them off. He opened his mouth to give orders, but then paused as something else appeared in the magnified camera. There were eight more mechs on top of the first mini-Spider. “So the bastard had more mechs than the ones he salvaged from the pirates.” He turned to his radio. “It looks like the enemy has more mechs, soldiers! I want them all kneecapped and ready for salvage!” 

“Yes, milord.”

“Of course, my lord.”

“Will do, baron.”

With that said, he -.

His eyes widened when his mech screeched at him. 

The enemy mechs had begun their approaching and were closing in dangerously quickly while … running? 

Yes, they were running with motion and balance expected out of a human, not a mech! 

“What the f-?”

Then his Thunderbolt screeched at him again as it encountered a problem.

Its warbook, the software and hardware geared towards identifying threats, spat out errors. 

[UNIDENTIFIED MECH. CAUTION.]

Then the barrage began.

---

Opening fire. 

My clones’ video feed displayed themselves on the command room’s screens while one of the EYE Drones in the air showed a simplified and pixelated bird’s eye of the fight. 

At the front were four mechs: a Firestarter, a Thunderbolt, a Jagermech, and a Centurion. The Firestarter, the twin of the one that we already took down with just a single Glasgow, was at their left flank while the Thunderbolt and Centurion were at the front. The Jagermech, a great long range support mech, was in the rear. It was simple enough of a formation. 

Unfortunately for them, they had no idea how strong HEP weapons were. 

As soon as my clones opened fire, the armor on the Thunderbolt and the Centurion got shredded. Literally. It was something quite shocking to see metal tear and shear as micro-explosion after micro-explosion chunked and cratered the armor. 

As we fired upon them at 600 meters and closing in, three of the nine mechs currently fielded, split away from the main group of five Clovers. These four, three Glasgows and one Clover, formed two prongs, one composed of three Glasgows in our right flank and the other just the Clover in our left flank, and flanked the enemy formation while they sat there stunned by the rate of fire and high damage of my HEP ammo-fed assault rifles. 

The faster Glasgows sped forward and laid down fire into Firestarter from the side, and the mech had no choice but to whirl around and fire back as it tried to put distance between them. 

The lone Clover swerved right through the enemy’s empty right flank. The Jagermech saw it coming and opened fire, turning its massive upper torso around and blasting away with its AC/2’s and AC/5’s. 

But it wasn’t turning fast enough for the sprinting Clover. And unlike the Jagermech whose guns were fixed to its shoulders and thus could only fire in one direction, whichever way the mech was facing, the Clover had a handheld rifle, so even if it wasn’t facing the heavy mech, its gun was still pointed at it and still shooting while its legs focused on running faster while closing in on the anti-air mech. 

---

“What the fuck are those?!” Baron Agone roared from within his Thunderbolt’s cockpit as he held the mech’s left arm and hand over the cockpit and fired everything but the medium lasers built into the mech’s left torso; doing so would damage his own mech when its left arm was currently crossing over the lasers. 

These unidentified mechs looked human. Their matte black arms and legs were sleek. Their white armored torsos and hips were sleek. They had autocannons like they were guns held by infantrymen. Most of all: its head. The head looked like an earless dog’s head but without any mouth, nose, or even eyes! What was there were red highlights that pulsed all throughout the mechs like they were some sort of blood veins. 

He fired his large laser right at one of them… and it fell to its knees and slid with the momentum of its run before using one of its hand as balancer to get back up when his laser stopped firing. 

Were these it?! Were they the mechs that was hidden from him?! 

Damn this bastard for stealing what was his! This was his world and had been in his family for generations! 

“Sir! Sir, I ca* ho**-!” 

The radio crackled out before he saw in the periphery of his vision the Centurion collapsing as it got cored. The formerly backpedaling medium mech groaned as it halted but the momentum sent it keeling over backwards. It crashed into the ground, sending dirt, snow, and multi-colored moss everywhere. 

“I’m down to red armor everywhere in the front,” Joseph, the mechwarrior in the Jagermech who was also his long-time martial mentor, shouted over the comms. “I’m going to blow at this rate, damn it! Charles - !”

Then … Then the Jagermech lurched as its right knee joint blew out and his mentor fell. 

No response. 

In the best case scenario, he was only knocked out.

“Fuck,” he said before -.

The firing barrage stopped. 

He looked around and realized that he had been surrounded by nine mechs. 

While they had scythed through his mech lance, they had, with what seemed like a demi-lance of lights and a lance of ultra-lights, put down his heavy weight lance. 

“You can surrender and live, baron, or you can throw one last punch and die,” the same voice, which tauntingly dismissed him before, rang out through one of the human-like light mech’s speakers.

“... What are you?” he demanded. “What the fuck are you that you have mechs like those?”

“These?” the voice chuckled. “I made them. So. Surrender or not?”

Charles gulped. 

Then he lowered his mech’s arms… and opened fire with everything.

The medium lasers burned against one of the light mech’s armor. The large laser almost punched a hole into the light mech’s center torso, and would have if the mech didn’t quickly turn away and use its left arm to shield itself. That arm turned red hot from the laser’s heat and the armor fell off. The LRMs mostly missed because the mech he was targeting, the same one that had been hit by all of the lasers, quickly maneuvered out of the way.

Then the rest of the mechs opened fire on him.

For a single moment, Charles fought as he lived; himself against the world that wanted to bring his barony down.

And then…

The cockpit window cracked and shattered inward with the force of an explosion.

-VB-

3020.09.18: After my battle against the baron, I marched into Cooperland Port City and conquered the now mostly defenseless city. Due to a lack of an HPG station, the news of Cooperland’s change in leadership will probably take some time to reach other worlds.