Chương 44: Episode 44 - The New Pressure

Day seventy-eight. Cassian woke at 0200, decidedly focused on remaining in the first rank. He opened the day's session plan because he knew that every squad in the academy was gunning for them and would be reviewing their performance recordings. This wasn't a problem, just how it was going to be moving forward. He built everything around the squad's new rank and the upcoming challenges. * 2-Psi had rebuilt overnight. Cassian saw this the moment they entered Bay 1-Echo.

Their entire configuration had shifted — their heaviest frame was no longer planted just left of center, but was now set to cover IRONJAW's standard approach vectors. Their squad leader had identified those vectors as the axis of the formation and had spent all night rebuilding their squad's plan around that. Good work. Fast work. And Cassian respected it. He briefed his squad in sixty seconds. There was no need for anything more than that.

"Krell'va," he said.

"You're not anchoring today." A pause. The ear tilted forward.

"What am I doing?"

"Pushing. Full advance, full weight, commit to the right corridor and do not stop." Another pause. Longer. The instinct processing the instruction: push, not hold. Abandon position rather than defend it. Everything that ran against the territorial read.

"Understood," Krell'va said. The drill started. 2-Psi's squad leader had been waiting for IRONJAW to plant. She had rebuilt her team's entire plan around her certainty of this. The moment the drill began, her formation shifted to cover the two anchor approach vectors — smooth, practiced, the rebuild running exactly as designed. IRONJAW went right. Full advance. No planting. No hesitation. A fully committed push driven by the grade-C hydraulics of the frame.

The floor sensors registered the approach as a deep vibration that traveled through Bay 1-Echo's composite from fifteen meters away. 2-Psi's right anchor moved to intercept IRONJAW. Technically the correct response, just the wrong choice today. The shift to cover this choice created the beginnings of a gap in the left-center.

"Left center," Ren-Thalen said. Four seconds before the gap fully developed.

"Three seconds."

"Cirus." RAZORWIND was already moving. Cirus, having known that IRONJAW was going to advance, was prepared to react in a moment. His approach vector established, a reaction time of. 7 seconds, RAZORWIND dashed for the gap. IRONJAW hit 2-Psi's right anchor at full advance. The bay shook. The structural dampeners engaged with a THUNK that Cassian felt through ECHO-LANCE's chassis. His harness bit into his shoulders.

In the overlay IRONJAW's hull integrity dropped to 88% from the collision alone — but 2-Psi's anchor frame had been moving to intercept rather than planted, and a moving frame absorbs impact differently than an anchored one. The anchor staggered. Lost two steps. Lost the angle. RAZORWIND was already past the left center. 2-Psi's squad leader called the adjustment. Fast, professional. Not fast enough. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"Nyx'ara." SHADOWRUN launched from the right flank where it had been running harassment — the interceptor's intake vents going full amber, the burst acceleration pushing Nyx'ara back into her harness. She had been holding the right screen's attention for forty seconds, giving them something to track, and the moment RAZORWIND cleared the left center she released the throttle she'd been holding. The EM wake from the burst hit both right-side screens simultaneously. Two sensor overlays went to static.

She was at the relay point before either of them recovered. HEARTHBREAKER arrived at the objective. The CLUNK of anchor pylon deployment. Korrath locked. 7-Delta by eleven points. In ECHO-LANCE's cockpit, after the clock stopped, Cassian looked at IRONJAW's hull integrity. 88%. He clocked the cost of the collision as minimal with the entire loft side of the bay opening up to his squad.

"The anchor configuration," 2-Psi's squad leader said, after. She was not asking Cassian a question. She was noting what she had seen.

"You built around the anchor," he said.

"We removed that variable." She looked at IRONJAW — at the scorch discoloration on the right shoulder from the sustained exchange, at the frame's particular stillness that was different from a resting frame.

"That's not IRONJAW's natural function."

"No," he said.

"It's not." She was quiet for a moment.

"I need to rebuild again."

"Yes." She nodded once and went back to her squad. He watched her go and thought: she's going to be very good by the time the tournament arrives. * Krell'va found him at the archive terminal at 0600. Not unusual — Krell'va moved around the station at hours that suggested he didn't place much value on sleep. What was unusual was that he stopped in front of the terminal and held out his personal comm device. A message. Vaskarr script, which Cassian could not read. Krell'va translated without being asked.

"We know where you are." Cassian looked at it.

"Sender?"

"Not identified. Vaskarr routing channels don't require identification." He did not take the device back.

"I'm not showing you because I am concerned, but because it is relevant to your threat assessment."

"Are you sure you aren't concerned?" Krell'va considered this with that uniquely honest quality he did all self-reflection. Looking directly at Cassian, he said, "No, I am not. They knew where I was before I arrived. Knowing where I am is not the same as being able to act on it." He took the device back.

"If they wanted to act, the message would be something completely different." Cassian added it to the standing threat assessment. Entry one. He described it in two lines: origin, content, Krell'va's analysis. He did not add his own. He trusted Krell'va's analysis. * The coaching block ran at 1400. Harren had two corrections. The first was for Cassian — his call on the opening gap had been too late. Luckily for the squad, Cirus had acted immediately based on his own read.

This was good, but Cassian should have made the call quicker.

"You're right, and that is wholly on me," Cassian said.

"Then fix it. You have the overlay data to call that half a second earlier than you did. Your hesitation could have cost your squad." The second correction was for Krell'va.

"The push was effective. The shoulder integrity was 88% after the collision. That rate of structural cost cannot be maintained in a drawn-out battle."

"Understood." Krell'va's ear tilted.

"Regardless, the collision was necessary."

"It was. The cost was also real. Both things are true." She made her note.

"Find the push angle that costs less. The frame may be a tool, but it is also an extension of yourself. Push it as you would your own body, knowing it has limits." Krell'va looked at her for a moment. He gave her the slightest nod of acknowledgement and filed the critique. He would work on it. She closed the coaching block in eight minutes. As the squad dispersed she held Cassian back with a slight tilt of her head.

"The observer from Station Security who was filing the administrative queries," she said.

"His access log shows he hasn't filed anything in four days."

"I know."

"The silence means something."

"Yes."

"Stay sharp," she said.

"The inquiry will take the time it takes. These things are measured in months, not weeks. Plan accordingly." She went back to her office. He walked back to B-7 thinking about what administrative silence meant from a man who had been consistent and was now not. The session data was in the log. IRONJAW's shoulder was at 88%. The pack message was in the threat assessment. The silence was noted. Day seventy-eight. Day seventy-eight. First rank held. The pack message filed. The silence noted. The work continued.