A plume of water ten meters high erupted in the water, followed swiftly by a few dozen more. I stared at the sight, the mixture of silvery gobs of tissue and other ichor shimmering in the strong sunlight that poured down over the ocean.

“That’s three in one,” I heard Daniel comment with an appreciative nod, “The Iron Chariots don’t mess around.”

“Lilia’s a proponent of explosives solving problems,” Richard nodded, “well, when mech’s aren’t enough.”

Alice sat on top of the railing, legs hooked on the lower bars to keep her secure, “Safe to say that they’re doing pretty-”

Her words were cut off with another round of explosions that were far larger, a plume of water thirty meters high and twice the range as the last ones went off.

“Sorry about that everybody,” I heard Lilia’s voice on the comms, “cluster bombs may be a little excessive.”

Helplessly, I stared at the roiling waters, glad that they were still very far from our formation.

“Thanks, Legion, for the show,” I heard the speakers on the vessel blare as Adira spoke, “for now, we’re in Zone 2 waters, and we’ll start seeing larger packs. For the time being, we’ll recall all vessels and begin joint operations. Brigade, report to your officers for your orders and to meet up with your attached Legion team. We expect to make contact with Emerald and Orca Brigades by 1800 hours where we’ll resume our Red Zone trek. Finally, Mr. Fischer will take the mic in ten,” the general rundown was well appreciated, “that is all, let’s get to it, Leviathan Brigade.”

Idle conversation rang out as we headed back below decks, joined by several of the standard crew of The Wendigo as we went. Seeing how we handled ourselves allayed much of the crew's concerns, aware that at the least we wouldn’t be dead-weight. The teams would be shuffled, an equal measure of Legion and Brigade per attack group, something that they readily expressed enthusiasm about.

Our quality of weaponry had not gone unnoticed, or unappreciated. Some even bartered with my teams to obtain some of our armaments, something that I’d given the green light on, so long as the team wouldn’t potentially need it.

Last Call, for example, had wowed with their nearly railgun weapons. Strauss had demonstrated extremely long range ordnance and utterly destroyed a pack of four Buckteeth before they could get anywhere near close enough. Regrettably, that was a personal weapon of his, and he’d wanted to ensure that it was functioning underwater. He didn’t have extras.

What I had stored away, though, I was quite proud of. The Determinators had benefited wildly from my Reaper personal shop, and I was eager to see how they performed in the water.

In the meantime, the cargo and drop bay of the ship was bustling with activity. Several teams were working in tandem already, and now officially had been given orders to cooperate. Unsurprisingly, my own team was paired with Adira’s, who sported the smallest team in the fleet.

I was informed that, many times, Adira would run solo-missions.

That got me curious, especially as I’d realized that I’d never seen her mech, only heard her talk about it. Her team operated with three mechs, one of which was a two-seater of sorts. Each one, however, was ruthlessly efficient in their own way. They also had an operator that stayed far from combat, but fed data and apparently assisted with a great deal of the overhead information and controlled a wide automated drone network.

It was such a starkly different way of doing things that I couldn’t help but look forward to seeing what their style was like. My team moved over to our assigned dock, readied up for when our Brigade allies would come back through. I cast a wary glance up at The Dauntless, seeing it secured in a newly modified cradle. When we’d tried to pull the damned thing back into the ship earlier the last cradle bent from the strain. And, when it was back on the ship, the new cradle’s locking mechanism wouldn’t open. Luckily the crew had a small number of much larger braces, usually used for abnormally sized cargo, but with a few tweaks and some engineering acrobatics, that were able to serve as a new cradle for the mech.

Still, The Dauntless was quickly accruing a reputation for misfortune around it, much to Daniel’s chagrin. I myself didn’t weigh in on the defense, considering the accident with the crane yesterday.

Amusingly enough, the sailors stayed well away from it whenever possible thanks to that quickly accruing reputation, making the mech look even more foreboding. Daniel simply scoffed at the behavior, and as of yet hadn’t had a single problem with the mech. If anything, he and Fran seemed to be uniquely immune to the odd things happening around it.

I, personally, was beginning to wonder - in good fun of course - if the thing was haunted somehow.

“Hey guys!” Adira’s voice broke me from my thoughts as the white-haired woman waved to us.

Our eyes met and I smiled genuinely, “Good to see you.”

“So, looks like we’re going to be working together,” I heard Lou Cornell speak up as he and the other three members of their team arrived from the crawler near us. “Lou Cornell, in case anyone forgot. I know I do, I’m crap with names.” He was shorter than me and was thin, but not what I could call scrawny. Rusty-reddish hair and half-rimmed glasses rested on a narrow nose and face, complimenting a very subtle look, a light beard framing his face with finely trimmed lines. His hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, comfortable but professional looking clothing not dissimilar to an office worker adorned his body, save for the heavy duty boots he wore. The man gave an air of quiet competence with a side of subtle shyness, but didn’t veer away from social contact in spite of that.

“Same, I’m awful with names. Terry, by the way,” Terry introduced himself, “I heard you’re something of the information specialist on your team?”

The man nodded, his smile still a little wary as he looked us over, “Something like that? I handle a few things here and there.”

A taller woman, taller than me, gave the man a playful slap on the back, “don’t listen to him play it down. He’s a damn good forecaster in a fight.” Said the woman. Her blonde hair was long and free flowing, curls bouncing on the right half of her head. The left, however, was completely shaven, given that there were several scars along the top of her head, I imagined that acid or fire was responsible. She wore a skin-tight shirt over a lean frame, sleeves cut off, whereas her pants were baggy, giving plenty of free mobility and comfort.

“Joanna Swain,” she nodded to us, settling her gaze on me for a half second longer appraisingly, “Glad to have people who know how to fight. My man here was afraid you’d all be bark and no bite,” she poked the shorter man in the ribs, leaning on his shoulder.

Behind her, Zack Manson, a stocky, very well built man chuckled, “Lou didn’t mean nothin’ by it, ‘course.” He walked forward, “Official greetin’s and all, m’name is Zack Manson,” a thick southern drawl rolling forth from his tongue, not unlike what I’d imagine a bayou accent to sound like. He shook the hand of each team member vigorously and warmly meeting each set of eyes, commenting here and there with a quick compliment before standing next to me, rather than returning with the rest of his own team, “I get the feelin’ we’re all gonna get along just fine.”

“Joanna here’s my rider,” he gestured back to the tall blonde, her features catching a slight bit, the friendly smile on her face freezing rigidly in the wake of the ambiguous statement.

Joanna turned to glare at the man, “he means gunner.”

“Ye, innit what I said?” The man turned an innocent gaze to her and back to us, “she blows things, I move.”

Joanna cracked her knuckles loudly and Zack didn’t miss a beat to continue talking, “Err, I pilot our mech, an’ she shoots shit.”

I couldn’t keep the amused smirk off of my face, even as Adira gave a long-suffering expression. Meanwhile Daniel’s laughter echoed through the bay.

“Matthew Reaper,” I greeted them officially, though at this rate most of us were likely known, “pleasure to meet all of you.”

“Richard Norden,” said Richard in a lax tone, then added with a bemused smirk, “also called ‘Adder’.”

Alice’s chipper introduction felt even more extreme in the wake of Richard’s, “Alice DeLeone!”

“Fran Delia. I’m something of a co-field commander for Matthew,” she nodded, “I look forward to working together.”

Daniel, subtly ignored while he was recovering from his bout of laughter, straightened and wheezed out, “Daniel Drake, heavy mech operator and ‘shoot it until it’s dead’ specialist. Digging the mechs, by the way.”

Terry shot a meaningful glance to Domino, given that our resident tesla-specialist had already introduced himself. Domino smiled, a professional and steady expression that belied his confident nature, “Domino, new blood, so to speak. Glad you have us aboard.”

“Jessica Allen, Domino’s right-hand girl,” she gave him an elbow nudge, “also a really bad ass melee specialist, if I do say so myself.”

Covina shook her head ruefully, her cyan blue dyed hair bobbing with the motion, “Covina Espada.” She kept it simple.

Eric beamed, “Names Eric Pallon, mech fighter enthusiast!”

“Venezuela Benjamin, sniper,” the dark haired woman gave a light, playful bow with a faint smile on her face.

Harold studied the team even as it came to his turn for introductions, “Harold Oatman, explosives expert. I’m also something of the teams cynica-”

“Rachel Scotch,” the older woman cut into Harold's monologue before he could begin, “something of the wolfmother for these ones here.” She gestured wide, especially so for Harold who seemed caught between annoyed and grateful for her cutting him off.

A quiet, meek voice came last, “E-Emma Verona. I’m a magneticist, like Fran. Well, I’m learning, anyways.”

Lou seemed to have a faraway look on his face as he processed our introductions before he smiled sheepishly, “Yeah, again, sorry if I have to ask people’s names. I’ll do my best, though.” To which we laughed, though from his expression I could firmly tell he was not at all joking.

Introductions and jokes aside, we moved into the Ogre, given that there was a bit more space available than in the Crawler. After making more small talk, we got down to the meat of what working together would mean. At least, we started to, before Nana Pain arrived with a few cooks in tow, containers of food being distributed to everyone in spite of Adira’s perplexed expression.

“I still don’t know how you get that old man to let you take food out of the cafeteria.” Lou shook his head, “The man’s a statue whenever I ask.”

“Ah, we go way back. Knew him when he was a babe, really, even babysat him. I know everything there is to know about him, and frankly-” Nana Pain chuckled, “-I got that man by the balls.”

Richard, in the middle of drinking water, choked and laughed at the same time before managing to calm down, but Nana Pain seemed gratified by the heartiness of the gathering.

When we pulled our attention back to tactics and our plans as a group, I was pleased to find that we were meshing quite well.

“So, you’ve got two magneticists, four mechs, one of which I’m just going to count as a superheavy mech -” Lou shot a glance to Daniel and nodded, “- and… Lets just sum this all up, we’ve got six mechs when we count Adira, Nana, Joanna and Zac, Daniel, Eric, and Terry. Then we’ve got Matthew, Fran, Alice, Richard, Domino, Jessica, Covina, Venezuela, Harold, Rachel, and Emma, making up a whopping eleven power armors,” he tapped the arm of the chair he sat in thoughtfully.

“You’re not counting yourself?” Adira tilted her head, “it’s not like you’re not helpful.”

He waved a dismissal, “I’m not direct combat, and I certainly won’t need to be with this abundance of manpower. We’re more than doubling our effective mech power, and I’ve never really worked with power armor in our team. Judging from what I’ve seen, though, I think it’ll strengthen our tactical options.”

“Do your people not use power armor?” I asked, perplexed at the thought, “or is it mostly mechs?”

He had a moment of consideration before answering, “Most people use mechs, yes. Though, I think it’s more due to need here than anything else. Technology has focused on mechs that are capable of handling deep sea pressure. Power armor probably could get to that point, too, and all of yours certainly seems to have, but for us it would have been a heavier investment with little return early on.” He gave a carefully considered answer.

And then shrugged, “At least, that’s what is most likely. Could be that I’m full of it and people just really like mechs.”

“Could be,” Joanna shrugged too, “we’ve been engineering for a while to be capable of handling depth, but it doesn’t look like your armor’s are too far behind. I don’t expect you to hit the bottom, however. Luckily that’s not a problem this time around.”

We talked about the particulars until we decided that the bulk of our strategy was fairly straightforward. The power armor’s would serve as distractions and hit flanks, while the mechs would be the vanguard. In another sense, the mechs were the anvil to the power armor’s hammer; we would sweep in from the flanks or even behind biotics if we were careful. Another strategy we would employ was simply keep-away, the armor’s running interference while the mechs pummeled them from afar.

On the more dangerous biotics, however, we were instructed that our tactics would have to be a great deal more fluid, and Lou insisted that at such a point we would need to be mindful of the information he gave us.

None of us had an issue with that, though we’d have to see how well we’d fare when the time came.

No sooner than we’d finished that thought did I notice that the ship was vibrating. Perplexed, I asked, “So, why is the ship vibrating so much, anyways?”

Adira beamed enthusiastically, “You wanna go see?”

I couldn’t help but smile back, though I did notice how her team sighed heavily in response, to which she affixed them with a glare.

“Alright, let's go topside. Mr. Fischer’s probably done warming up the speakers by now.” She bounded out the door, and we followed shortly, moving towards the elevator.

Only then did I notice that there was a distinctive pattern to the vibrations, one that rapidly began to become more familiar.

“Is that music?” I frowned.

“Is that dubstep?” Domino blinked in disbelief.

Adira’s smile only grew wider, “c’mon, it’s better if you see it yourself.”