Waiting For It

It only took two minutes for the engineers to assemble their parts of the puzzle, yet it was the longest two minutes of Ze-4's life. Of the life of the engineer stationed beside the wall, too. He was sure that his own eyes reflected some of the anxiety in theirs; it could be hidden behind a wall of projected confidence, yet hidden things were still visible. One just had to know where to look.

The engineer in charge of the power cores had the simplest task. He only had to open a wiring kit and run it through the ports jutting out the side of the cylinders. There was a visible spark each time he made a successful connection, but the engineer remained unflinching in the task. He made a few adjustments and had to double back one when he ran the length the wrong way. Testing the speedy product wouldn't be possible, so they would have to hope he hadn't made any mistakes.

The engineer--or rather, tech, assigned to the wider variety of items was slower. It was understandable. She could not just run through some wires and call it finished. She needed to crack open the insides, insert her HUD, and work alongside her supportive autonomous intelligences to retrain the software.

The auto-coil was wound even tighter than its default state. This would wear down the component with repeated use, but it was a good thing Ze-4 only needed it to last for one go. The bio-lock's primary program was replaced with one connected to his voice, recognizing it as an origin signal. He made a face at the HUD chip discarded in the pile but refused to change his mind and have the tech include it in her work. They were already short on time.

He glanced at the assigned watchman. Nothing was out of place yet. But the Aud outside had dug through more protective layers. Its blows to the exterior were now strong enough that they could all feel light tremors in the bulkheads lining the roof, and the panels running along the floor.

"Done?" He crouched beside the two.

"They're as ready as they'll be, sir."

He accepted the modified components, giving them a once-over. Indeed, they would either perform as he hoped they would, or the Aud would get inside and they'd all die. He sent the three away, their jobs done. While they retreated inside the nearest compartment and sealed the opening behind them per his instructions, his hands moved in a blur, assembling a construct he hadn't seen in ages.

The tripod was the base, upon which a sonic emitter was slotted into place. A single round was loaded into the emplacement, and the end attachment was covered by the barrel, the auto-coil already screwed inside. He rolled the bio-lock around the legs of the tripod, connected it under the barrel, then locked everything in place.

He gave the barrel of the makeshift turret a hard look. His hand chopped down, smashing it in. He took hold of the dented metal, squeezed it, then frowned and struck it again. A few strikes later, it was beginning to turn red and his hands steamed through his skinsuit.

He ignored the stinging and squeezed. This time, the barrel molded under his strength, the end twisting smaller and smaller until the previous opening, no larger than his thumb, had compressed even further. He had to shine a light down it to see if there was still an opening, no matter how small.

The tri-core was slotted into the powering chamber, and he left it open. With three of them inside, it would be able to close anyway. He attached a light mount, positioning the tripod to aim it at the spot he suspected the Aud would breach through.

As the final touch, he fiddled with the firing settings of the emplacement itself. It would loose the round at a respectable speed under normal circumstances, but he pushed it past the recommended safety limit. He also increased the energy input, well-intending to have everything count on a single shot, a single blow.

And that was all he could do. With the preparations done, he sat on a panel beside the tripod, crossing his arms. It could take a minute. It could take ten seconds. All he knew was that after hanging on this long, the stubborn Aud outside wouldn't be knocked off by anything short of a miracle. And miracles were rarer than bodies of water in the Gaiss Hollow.

He looked to his left and right, pleased to find his orders had reached the command center. All compartments connecting to the hallway stretching the entire length of the Nyx Breaker had been sealed off. Not a single personnel, military or otherwise, could be seen. For those further away than twenty meters, there wouldn't have been much risk, but Ze-4 was a paranoid man at times. Those under his command were important. While some Ancients served on the Titan older than him, most officers and servicemen who looked to him for leadership were separated by decades. It made him somber for the future, yet also incredibly passionate about ensuring it by preserving as many lives as possible.

And didn't the Aud make it hard? Pests, that was all they were. Unrivaled, deadly pests.

He jerked, looking up as the bulkhead before the tripod dented inward. His eyes crawled up and down the new irregularity. It wasn't two seconds before another thud hit it, pushing it in further. And further, until he saw it was ready to give.

He stood, holding fast. While implementing his plan early couldn't hurt, paradoxically, the same plates of scutumsteel keeping the Aud out and protecting the humans within also protected the Aud outside from anything the humans inside could throw at it. Scutumsteel was a hardy material, an alloy so dense and tough it could withstand Aud charges head-on, so long as enough of it was sandwiched.

How long the plates had held under the Aud's relentless assault was a testament to this. But that meant projectiles would lose much of their momentum before punching through. He wanted to strike the Aud itself, and not lose a single iota of bite along the way.