Deus Ex Machina (Tall Tales)

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Body-Horror Warning
=Story By JA Baker=
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The Jihad was a dark time. Far, far darker than most like to admit.
I know that the history books like to paint it as a single, glorious struggle against the Word of Blake and their allies, but, truth be told, we spent more time fighting amongst ourselves than we ever did fighting them. That was their master stroke, really: get as to fight each other, so we were too disorganized to fight them. Even at their height, they never had the strength needed to take on the rest of humanity in a straight fight. No, not even with all their crazy bullshit tech, cyborg super soldiers and weapons of mass destruction. It was a numbers game, and it was always slanted against them.
But, by pitting us against each other, undoing in record time the brief glimmer of unity that had been the Second Star League, they had us doing most of the hard work for them. All they really had to do was strike a few key targets, be they worlds or even individuals, and suddenly they were the biggest threat to the Inner Sphere since Stefen Amaris.
It's actually kind of clever, when you think about it.
I guess I was luckier than most soldiers. I was assigned to Military Procurement, meaning I had to sit in on meetings with weapons manufacturers, and politicians. As they both tried to I believe the phrase is 'nickel and dime' one another, all at the expense of the men and women at the sharp end. And you would not believe just how much political bullshit, favor trading and outright blackmail went on, even as entire planets burned and died. All it takes is some minor noble on the right procurement committee, and suddenly, you can have the BattleMechs you need to rebuild your shattered line units unless the contract to provide the light bulbs for the instrument panel goes to a factory on their home world.
And it wasn't just us. From what I've been told, it was the same everywhere... except maybe the Clans. But they have their own special kind of crazy for situations like that.
I was almost grateful when I was picked to join a clandestine meeting with... well, like I said, the Jihad was a dark time, and we often found ourselves making deals with less than savory people on occasions. Black Marketeers, Scalpers, Pirates.... you name it, I ended up on first name terms with the very worst of them by the time the shooting stopped. Hell, I even met my wife while finalizing a deal with some... completely legitimate business people. But this one particular meeting... I did many things that were far from legal, but what we agreed to that day... that genuinely haunts me.
He went by the name Dr. Katz. Obviously fake, but it was all he would respond to, so we had little choice. He'd been something of a legend in the illegal arms trade for quite some time, even before the Jihad started, and it was somewhat surprising that the Word hadn't snapped him up. Him and his warped, demented mind. He'd set up shop on some airless rock, taking over a long abandoned mining outpost to use as a combination laboratory and proving ground. He'd evidently sent out word that he had something new to sell, with the highest bidder getting exclusive access to what he dubbed his Master Piece.
In person, Dr. Katz was almost a walking stereotype of crazy hair, big glasses with several strange looking lenses that could be dropped into position, an almost painfully bright lab coat over a check shirt and a bow tie. I'm not sure if he was genuinely that crazy, or if it was just an act he put on, and, truth be told, I didn't want to hang around him long enough to find out.
"Come in! Come in! Welcome!" he ushered is into what looked like a combination laboratory and operating theater, "I'm so glad you could make it."
Looking round, I soon regretted joining the mission. There were... thing... floating in jars. Thing that had once been important parts of other, larger things. And other things that I could not identify, and certainly didn't want to find out what they actually were. If it was all an act intended to put us on edge, it worked for me. In the center of the room was something vaguely human shaped, covered in an old sheet covered in... I'm just gonna say stains, okay?
Without fanfare, Dr. Katz pulled the sheet away to reveal a suit of battle armor unlike any I had ever seen. The outer layer was made up of jade green scale, forged out of some metal I didn't recognize, with occasional olive green panels. In its left hand it held a massive gun of some kind, which looked big enough to put a whole in damn near anything, while it's right hand held a long, wickedly sharp looking knife, which was effectively a short sword of some description. The facemask had two eyes made out of some kind f aquamarine quartz, through which you could see two dull, but obviously awake and aware, eyes.
"I call it Gilgamesh." Dr. Katz sounded almost giddy with excitement as he almost danced around the room, giving everyone plenty of space to examine his creation, "I won't bore you with the details. No offense, but I very much doubt that any of you would even understand a fraction of what I would say. No, instead, perhaps a demonstration?"
He pulled a leaver, and the suite descended into the floor below it, a hidden hatch closing behind it.
"If you would direct your attention to the monitors." Dr. Katz gestured to a wall of screens, each showing a different image, all apparently live feeds, "I have arranged for some... volunteers to help demonstrate my creation."
Almost on cue, an entire company of light and medium weight BattleMechs appeared on the screens. They were an odd assortment of designs, all in questionable states of repair, and it soon became clear that they were pirates of some kind. Despite that, they moved with a certain amount of professionalism, hinting that they may have been line troops or mercenaries at some point. It was clear that they were heading towards our DropShip with hostile intent, and I was instantly worried that we were about to be stranded on an airless rock with only a mad scientist for company.
Then, suddenly, the lead 'Mech, a tattered old Vulcan, exploded as something hit it at high speed.
The pirates reacted far better than I would have given them credit for, forming a skirmishing line and positioning themselves to provide mutual support if needed. A few opened fire, obviously shooting at shadows, while, with our God's-eye view, we could see the battle armor, Gilgamesh, moving with inhuman speed and precision, across the broken landscape. A second 'Mech, a Crab, quickly fell, it's legs cut clean through just above the ankles, then something small and green leaped atop a startled Stinger. Before the pilot could react, his 'Mechs 'head' was ripped clean off, the pilot quickly suffocating on the airless moon.
What unit cohesion the pirates head vanished pretty quickly at that point and several suffered from not-so-friendly fire. As the green blur moved among them, damaging or disabling limbs and weapons with inhuman ease.
"The Armor contains a Positronic matrix, allowing it to actually learn and adapt, even on the battlefield." Dr. Katz explained enthusiastically, "It's set up to allow for instantaneous communications between units over a short distance, allowing them to share their processing power, effectively creating a kind of hive-mind between suits. The ore suits in use, the smarter it becomes and the quicker it learns."
"How many operational suits do you have?" a senior officer, one who's name I made sure to never learn, asked.
"As of right now? Six." Dr. Katz smiled, "Five are taking part i this little demonstration, while the sixth is... well, there's proving to be an issue with a power supply for that one."
The last pirate, a battered old Griffin, crumpled into a pile of scrap as every major joint seemed to be hit at once with inhuman precision. Not one of the pilots had been able to eject, not that it would have done them any good, and it didn't look like any of them had scored so much as a glancing hit in return. There was a loud click, and the far wall split open to reveal five of the suits, lined up ready for inspection.
"As I said, I am having a little trouble getting the connections right with the power supply for the sixth unit, but that seems to be caused by some unforseen... defect, in the power supply, not the suit itself." Dr. Katz assured us as he danced around us again, "Unfortunately, my resources here are somewhat limited, but I assure you, this would not be an issue with full scale production."
"What kind of power core do you use?" I asked, already compiling a list of potential suppliers in my head.
"Ah, now, that's the genius part!" the scientist walked up to one of the suites and pressed a hidden button.
I've spent a considerable amount of time trying to forget what he showed us, using the traditional aids of drink, drugs and other vices, but one of them work.
The... individual... inside the suite had obviously been human at some point... but beyond that, it was difficult to tell anything about them. For one thing, most people still have all their skin, not some shiny, translucent material holding them together. Nor do they have bundles of cables connecting their head and limbs to the inside of a suit of battle Armor. I've seen the inside of a Clan ProtoMech and Blakist Manei Domini, and they seem almost tame in comparison. Then again, they really if ever surgically seal the pilots mouth closed and run a feeding tube directly into their stomach through their chest. But it was the eyes that were the worst, they looked as dull as before, but it was clear that there was still a mind behind them, capable of comprehending what had been done to them, but unable to do anything about it.
"It's the Positronic matrix that does all the thinking, you see?" Dr Kats explained, as if what we were seeing was the most natural thing in the universe, "The pilot... well, they're only there to provide additional processing power, that ability to make illogical decisions that even the most advanced AI struggle with. And, as they still, regrettably, have to be there, I thought to myself, why not make them part of the solution? So, now they provide suit with power and a certain amount of motive input... at low speeds. Unfortunately, the human body just isn't designed to take the stress and strain of some of the more extrema maneuvers. But, it's simple enough to disable the pain receptors, and you don't really need your bones to be intact when the suit makes for a perfectly good exoskeleton."
I thought I was going to be sick, but it soon became clear that not everyone in our party felt the same.
"The pilots," the officer from before asked, "where did you recruit them from?"
"Oh, these were pirates, like their friends outside." Dr. Katz responded matter-of-factly, "They come by every so often, looking for anything worth stealing. The sixth test subject, well, she was an aerospace pilot, who seems to have suffered somewhat more serious injuries during her crash than I first thought. She may not be suitable after all, but, hopefully, they left someone outside to take her place."
"How many suits do you have completed?" another man asked, this time a... civilian.
"Ten in total, but I only have pilots for these five." The scientist waved to the prototypes, "Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, they don't last very long. But, the suits are adaptable, so as long as their replacement is the same basic body type, it's not overly difficult to replace them."
"And the pilots?" the officer asked, "After they've been removed?"
"Well, it's usually a case of hosing them out and mopping up what's left, to be honest." Dr. Katz shrugged, nonchalantly, "As I said, the human body just isn't designed to take the stress and the strain that the suits can put them through when running at maximum capacity."
"Well, if anything, that would make things easier." the civilian grinned, "Plenty of people in prison who nobody will miss." he turned to Dr. Katz and offered his hand, "You have a deal."
"Excellent!" the scientist shook the offered hand excitedly, "It'll be nice to have a change of scenery."
We left the next day, along with Dr. Katz all his equipment, notes, the prototypes and his... test subjects. Nobody ever publicly admitted to the existence of Project GILGAMESH. But if you know how to read between the lines, you can occasionally spot where they've been deployed. Usually by the death and destruction left in their wake. And yes, they've mostly been used against the Blakists and their allies. Mostly. And, well, war crimes sometimes just happen.
But, remember, we're the Good Guys in this war...
The End
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