I tore down the road on the bike—a bio-alcohol-fueled off-road hobby model. It was the kind of thing rich people drove around at summer resorts.
Between our training involving direct atmospheric entry via vehicle, we were qualified to drive just about anything. We could even handle tanks, if it came down to it. I wasn't exactly confident, though, since we didn't get to practice with the heavy stuff regularly. Claire and Melissa were likely in the same boat, and I was pretty sure Claire even held a VTOL license.
The only one in our group without a license was probably my bride, seeing as she’d never actually attended a class. On the flip side, I was likely the only one who’d spent his long breaks taking courses for slinging and crane operation.
In fact, I was more worried about the money I’d already transferred for a civilian Large Special Vehicle course scheduled for the next break. If I actually got that certification, the "Limited to Imperial Army Vehicles" restriction on my license would finally be gone!
...Though it would probably all go to waste now. My backup plan of being able to make a living if I ever got kicked out of the military was looking grim.
Crab-chan was still hot on our heels.
"It's coming!" I shouted.
"Ugh! Give it a rest already!" Kevin yelled back.
We pulled away from the airport and merged onto a highway. Thanks to martial law, the road was completely deserted. Kevin opened the throttle.
To my surprise, the Zork was fast—unnervingly so. It was closing the gap.
"You’ve got to be kidding! We’re doing over a hundred kilometers an hour!"
"We're jumping!"
"Wait, what?"
An overturned dump truck had left some planks scattered across the asphalt. Kevin hit one like a ramp, and we soared off the highway, plummeting toward the public road below.
My stomach did a violent flip—that unmistakable, terrifying sensation in the groin when you're falling. I couldn't even manage a scream.
Thud.
We landed. Hard. The impact slammed right into the middle of my "Final Destroyer" set and my anus.
"Ma—!"
I was dying. I was seriously going to die!
"Nice! Leo, what do you think of my driving technique!?" Kevin cheered.
"Ma..."
"Hmm? Something wrong?"
"...Ma..."
I writhed in agony.
"Sorry about that," Kevin said.
A demon. I was being driven by a laughing demon!
"It’s still coming!"
Kevin accelerated again. I was going to perish.
Just as my spirit was about to break, Crab-chan leaped down after us. Its legs crunched into the pavement, but it forcibly wrenched them out and resumed the chase. We scrambled toward a wide road running alongside a canal.
An apartment construction site came into view along the way.
"They were redeveloping this area, weren't they?" Kevin noted.
"You know a lot about it. Are you a city boy?"
"No, but when I was in the Imperial Junior Academy, the commoner's dorms were around here."
"Huh? I thought we were all isolated in a colony..."
"That’s only because the academy’s Noble Division rents out an entire colony for themselves."
So that was the story behind the things I’d always taken for granted. I’d just assumed it was like one of those private schools with too many satellite campuses. Then again, this was a national academy.
I figured I should probably contact my bride while I was still among the living.
"Bridey! I'm being chased by a Zork along the canal."
"Lord Groom! I shall dispatch reinforcements immediately!"
Reinforcements? Just as I wondered what she meant, a fairy appeared in my augmented reality view.
"Magic Fairy AI-chan, reporting for duty!"
"Change characters."
"Hey! You're as rude as ever!"
"Look, an AI can't exactly launch a physical attack!" I countered. "So what are you even going to do for me?"
"Um... let's see. Running a search... Oh! There's a police riot control machine nearby!"
"That's the one!"
Technically, the police were just another branch of the military. That meant this was a Police Custom Machine. There were key differences between police and military models—specifically, the police versions were customized for close-quarters combat against other Humanoid Heavy Machinery.
"Kevin! Slow down!"
"What for?"
The bike began to lose speed.
"Because I'm jumping off!"
Hrahhhh!
A man is made of nothing but guts! Since I was the one who had survived this long on sheer willpower, that had to be the objective truth.
I hit the ground and tucked into a series of rolls to dissipate the impact damage. God bless military uniforms—it took more than a bit of road rash to tear this fabric. I scrambled to my feet and ran like my life depended on it, following the nav-marker.
A humanoid frame appeared ahead of me, emblazoned with the "Imperial Capital Police" logo.
"Hacking complete! Opening the hatch now!" AI-chan announced.
The door hissed open. I hauled myself inside and tumbled into the pilot's seat.
"Hacking the authentication system! Booting up!"
My heart was hammering against my ribs. My face was drenched in sweat, and my back was slick against the seat.
"System active! Closing the hatch! Combat Mode, start."
The words Imperial Capital Police System flickered across the monitors. Personally, I preferred the military consoles—they were strictly data-driven and faster to boot.
First, the loadout.
A Shock Baton. It was designed to deliver a high-voltage surge to short out Humanoid Heavy Machinery, though it worked well enough as a simple club.
A Pulse Handgun. Useless.
A Folding Shield. Now that’s important.
I took a step forward. The machine was faster than a military model, likely because the armor intended to stop pulse rifles was significantly thinner. In its place, the limbs were reinforced with impact-resistant plating.
I tested a quick jog. It felt stable.
Crab-chan finally caught up.
Strike first, win the day! I lunged with the baton.
"Gishaaaaaaaa!" it shrieked, trying to intimidate me.
I ducked under a flurry of claws and cracked it across the face. A sharp snap echoed, but the baton didn't have enough weight behind it. I almost missed my trusty steel beams.
It swung a claw at me, and I countered with a kick. There was a satisfyingly wet, crunching sound. Now that felt right.
Damn, I really missed my Shock Hammer. Without some kind of power assistance, that carapace was just too thick to crack. I tried another swing with the baton, but it did nothing. I wasn't going to land a finishing blow unless I timed a perfect counter.
Nothing for it—I kicked again.
Good, that opened up some distance. I took a running start and unleashed a flying reverse-roundhouse kick. Alarms blared in the cockpit as the leg joints screamed under the excessive load.
Oops. I guess I pushed it too hard.
Still, it worked. The shell buckled and split with a loud crack.
"Deploying Pulse Handgun!"
I ditched the baton and drew the pistol stored in the leg holster. I could have tried to snipe the crack from a distance, but the odds of missing were too high. Instead, I closed the gap and threw an elbow.
The Zork lashed out with its claws. I used the arm I’d used for the elbow strike to block the blow, letting the talons sink deep into the machine's forearm.
Everything was going according to plan.
"See ya!"
I jammed the muzzle of the handgun directly into the split in its shell and held down the trigger. After six rapid-fire shots, the strength finally drained out of its claws.
Whew... I guess the Jester-exclusive machines really were in a league of their own if I struggled this much in a standard police rig.
I saw Kevin’s bike pulling up.
"Are you okay!?" he called out.
"Victory is mine!" I shouted back, waving a hand as I climbed out of the cockpit.
While waiting for him to reach me, I turned back to the fairy.
"Hey, hey, Fairy-san."
"Yes?"
"Are there any other good vehicles around here?"
"How about that truck tipped over over there?"
The logo on the side read: Empire Express.
That was a company I’d never heard of...