Silver Saint

Thirteen: All In

//Report: Quinn, Jackson.

//The interior of a dropship.

//Designation: Seraphim 1.

//Four hours later.

//Resume log.

The next few hours went by at lightning speed. With the full sum of Saint Corp's fortune available to us, Spear Squadron had been inundated with resources the likes of which we'd never seen aboard the Firmament. It hadn't taken long to devise our plan-with tactical data from the Panopticon and Laura's expert advice, we'd brainstormed our battle plan in record time, relaying the strategy to our new allies as soon as possible.

Saint Corp's forces were built on a foundation of tight organization, a far cry from the chaotic, hit-and-run tactics SPEAR had relied on for most of its existence. For a large battle such as this, efficiency was key-every squadron consisted of ten pilots, with each assigned two mechs, giving Saint Corp a total of two hundred Guardian mechs split across its ten squadrons. At the head of each squadron was its captain, a pilot responsible for tactical decisions on the field and for coordinating directly with central command to adapt strategies on the fly.

Transporting the mechs into battle was the task of the corporation's new Seraphim-class dropships. Each could carry everything a squadron needed-ten pilots, twenty mechs, a dropship pilot and three support crew.

However, where SPEAR and Saint Corp differed the most was in use of infantry. Where SPEAR used soldiers exclusively for guard duty aboard the Firmament, Saint Corp's troops were highly trained and strategically placed in platoons aboard a handful of dropships.

While soldiers on foot were often brutally outclassed by mechs in combat, the brave soldiers of Saint Corp were a rare exception. Equipped with state-of-the-art combat armour, each platoon was around thirty to forty soldiers strong, led by their own dedicated captains. These soldiers would have eyes on the same live data feeds as the mech squads, relayed through their tactical visors, which allowed for fluid coordination with Guardian mechs and quick adjustments to their orders mid-battle.

Overseeing the entire operation was the Panopticon, Saint Plaza's powerful central command system. Every detail, from individual mech statuses to field intel, flowed back to it. The Panopticon allowed Laura to monitor and coordinate our battle in real time, syncing the actions of every squadron and platoon across the battlefield.

It was, in a word, incredible.

"Alright, folks, please keep your tray tables closed and your seats in an upright position! We're off!"

Carver's voice echoed through the cockpit of the dropship, snapping me out of my thoughts. The cheery Saint Corp pilot was in his element at the controls of the dropship, fingers dancing across the console as Seraphim 1 began to shift.

From my seat at one of the consoles in the cockpit I expected to hear the roar of the engines or the hum of the vessel's reactor, but no such sound reached my ears. Instead, I stared out through the Seraphim's wide canopy as the dropship floated softly into the air, rotating in place as the outside world swept by in a blur.

I saw the monolith of glass that was Saint Plaza slide by, shimmering in the afternoon sunlight. Seraphim 1 rose past the sides of the Plaza, hovering in place as it left the concrete trench where it had been parked.

Around us, dozens of identical dropships were doing the same, rising from the depths of the Plaza carrying an army of Saint Corp soldiers.

Our army.

"Plaza Command," Carver called, "this is Seraphim 1. We're headed out. Leave the lights on for us, will ya?"

The response was inaudible to me, filtered back through Carver's comms headset, but the ginger pilot leaned forward in his seat with a grin, pressing on the controls.