"You're going to exit the Jackal? Come now. Don't turn infirm and leave me as a second Re-5 for it."
"I'm not Ze-4. As far as I know, his Blessing makes him think as fast as he can move; what a strenuous living that must be." He scratched the beginnings of his sideburns. "I respect him, but I'd argue he was always too impulsive for a position in command."
"And you're not, sir?"
He shrugged and relented, letting her slide free. "I never said I was a saint, but yes, I have more consideration for the big picture than he."
"It sounds as if you two have a history. One with negative connotations, I suppose?"
"More so that we…share different visions of the future." With his aide out of the full loop of the true conflicts running rampant inside Ardiseg Hall's upper echelons, he couldn't very well enlighten her. That would force her to pick sides, and thus, retaliation from the one that lost out on another knowing recruit. Better to remain in ignorance than risk the ire of the home interest or militarists.
"I never took you for a visionary."
"That means my disguise works as desired." She cracked a small smile at his jest, though the situation displayed on the overhead screens exhausted whatever fumes had been fueling its presence.
"You'd best leave the Jackal before it moves too much. We won't be able to stop for you to make a safe exit once the Aud enter melee range."
"And for always steering me straight, you have my thanks. Keep my seat warm for me, won't you?"
Before she could invalidate the statement by noting the command platform the two of them shared lacked seats near the sole console, he took a running leap and dived from the edge. He did catch a "Oh, for the–" but chose to ignore the rest of her statement.
For all his nimbleness, He-6 was a man limited by an unfortunate circumstance: his prodigious natural size. His physical examinations had always left medical personnel both befuddled and amazed, as one of the few specimens of humanity whose height approached an entire two meters.
And a frame like his had to fill itself with the appropriate amount of meat. Which contributed to mass. Which contributed to weight. And He-6 always turned his head away when stepping on a scale, even if he was more muscle and cords than anything else, like every other serviceman.
His dive reached the third platform to the base level, and it ended with him rolling and crashing with spectacular fashion into a console, startling a tech hard at work next to the debacle. He-6 surveyed the damage, then turned and flashed a grin up at his aide, staring appalled at his latest mess. "That's superficial damage. I think."
"Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Yes." He fingered his chin. "Yes, I suppose I do." He patted the tech. "Continue to strive for your best performance, my friend." And took another running leap off the third platform. He started further back this time, ensuring he fell the remaining distance down to the base level, rolled into nothing--as planned--and came up with his arms in the air. "I'm off!"
Compared to his initial efforts to navigate the internals of the Jackal in earnest, He-6 had improved his mental map. Starting as the new sitesman of a quadruped Titan had come with its quirks.
He had to offer his compliments to the specialists under the Sixth and Fifth who had been responsible for drafting the blueprints for and constructing the war machine he commanded today.
Though he wouldn't understand much, he at least grasped how difficult it must've been to envision joints that were both hollow and large enough to enable passage of a human crew without compromising the redundancy factors that worked to keep such a large, prehensile body from falling apart from even the simplest of movements.
He followed the main transit corridor, located beneath the Titan's vertebral column. It led to the pelvic structure, and the number of compartments that squeezed into the available spaces there, thanks to several engineers' meticulous attention to detail. After passing through those, he went lower, into one of the hind legs.
He was conscious that despite walking on his own two legs as if he were on a horizontal plane, he was actually moving down a corridor with such a steep orientation that he would've fallen to the bottom if not for the anti-grav generators imposing their machinations and enabling the existence of the false vacuum that occupied every bit of human-occupied space aboard the Jackal. That was to say, every last smidgen of it.
Unlike the Nyx Breaker, there was no singular entry and exit point to the Jackal's design. As a fast-moving Titan, its occupants had to be capable of entering and exiting as fast as possible, and then some, and only having one, large entry would be antithetical--no, outright harmful.
He-6 popped the seal on the hatch and waited as the locking mechanisms disengaged. His chosen exit point was behind one of the elbow joints, and with the orientation of the Jackal facing toward the coming Aud army, the first thing he saw was the high ceilingline of the Last Light.
A lightshow of terrific proportions illuminated the surroundings beyond the dome, painting tiny shadows that were almost invisible against the city's backdrop as Aud hit the dome one by one, still unable to pass through. He shivered as the open hatch allowed the breezes dancing in the Gaiss Hollow to enter. "Why does it look beautiful today?"
He plastered on a war-hungry grin. There, that was better. Without pause, his feet left the safety of the chamber, as well as the anti-grav field holding him in place. He fell with nothing to slow his fall, watching the tops of the walls increase in scale as the distance between them reduced. And still reduced. And some more.
He allowed gravity to dictate his journey. When he was close enough to make out the individual plates interlinked to form the series of solid platforms the Jackal perched upon, he knew it was time.
There was a reason he was so confident in his survival as to not even equip himself with an anti-grav node before exiting the Jackal as high up as he did. There were lower hatches. He could've spent a few more seconds making his way down in safety and then exiting with only a dozen or so meters between him and solid ground. Of course, as one of the carriers of the Blessing, he had little need or necessity to think like most other servicemen.
His body swelled like water was pumping into it. He clenched his teeth as the familiar process began, and he pushed its effects to their upper threshold. He was still falling, but there was a sudden, jarring disconnect where he was both closer and further from landing.
His torso elongated and expanded, his shoulders cracked and pushed themselves further out, his knees straightened and reached far longer than they should've been capable of. Similar changes occurred across his body, from the largest organ to the smallest capillary.
Two titanic feet slammed against the top of the walls, generating a shockwave that spread outward, along with stronger vibrations that rattled the walls' frame. Despite the instantaneous forces subjected upon them, they stood.
And it was a good thing, too, as one of the many trump cards the military held in reserve had revealed himself. Next to the Jackal, ready to perform some smashing and swiping of his own, was a He-6 so supersized he surpassed the Titan's height.
He inhaled, the noise rumbling free like a quake. Rock and rubble torn free from the base of the walls clattered up and down at its passing. "The first day won't be the worst for us. Steady does it."