Arknights story · Operator Records
Armor and Crossbow
Hearing there's an abandoned plate she can hit, Toddifons joins in giddy with glee and man-portable siege ballista in tow. However, she only notices upon reaching the mission site that things may not have been quite as she was fancying.
1 scenes, 220 lines
1. Interlude
220 lines
...*pant*... *pant*...
...*huff*... *huff*...
Left!
Ugh!
Oi, Phidia—
Me and the Raging Ironhide ARE on your left!
I meant, fortcrackers dropping on your left—
You're in my artillery's way.
Phidia, you still alive?
You're a real sturdy rotter, aren't you? Yeah, okay, I think it's the explosion just touched you. Not much real damages I can tell.
Maybe I should up my fortcracker charges, 20%-some?
Then I'm never going on a mission with you again.
Hmm... joint #3's hydraulic systems aren't stable anymore. You're paying for maintenance.
You can't blame me—your mech's horrible for visibility. Honestly, it's only fair I let the siege-ballista do it in one of these days.
Should try if we get the chance, really. Ought to blast straight through, I think?
On my pride as a Tiacauh, next intra-department meeting, I'm voting down your budget.
Well, that's a bloody joke! Do you understand the importance of siege weapons?!
My master says Rhodes Island isn't installing siege weapons of any kind. It's not in accordance with our founding principles.
But honestly? This giant bow of yours doesn't even count as siege weaponry.
Wha...?! A man-portable siege ballista's still a siege ballista!
It's a bow that doesn't even have an engine.
Bows never HAD engines! And it's a BALLISTA!
Sorry, my tribe's bows had engines.
You want to go, Phidia?
My name's Zumama.
Hey, we're right here, you know?!
Shut up!
Aaargh!
Then let's see if your heaping pile of scrap can take a fortcracker shot for real!
Bring it on!
Um... excuse me?
Are you soft? We're busy here.
You two are Rhodes Islanders?
And you are...?
Ah, just to warn you by the way, I think that ballista had its right-side torsion hookup worn out in combat just now. Your accuracy's going to suffer if you keep making it work.
Tch!
The... um... yellow tractor there?
You can call her the Raging Ironhide.
You'd better take a look at the state of her cooling systems. Put that off any longer, and you'll get funny sounds from the engine.
You're right! Thanks, uh...
Call me Rickety Joe. Nice to meet you, Rhodes Islanders.
I commissioned this here mission.
Is your op unit... just the two of you?
Don't trust our professional ability?
Of course I do. Sesa recommended you, after all. Rhodes Island's name... is plenty well-known among wastelanders.
But, uh, I have to say, you two are...
Haha... There's definitely been some mishaps...
Keep traveling for about an hour, and you'll be at the point where intel says the abandoned plate is.
Toddifons, Eunectes, how's your equipment checks?
Phew. Just finished loading everything into the truck.
The Raging Ironhide's in fine condition. I gave her a total upgrade with my master earlier, and the driver's seat is a lot more comfortable now.
Oh, yeah, I haven't seen that weird little Liberi around for this mission...
The High Priest said I can't always count on him to drive. It's my mech, after all.
Well, no complaints here, I'll take you driving any day... Everything okay with the siege ballista, Toddifons?
Ugh, classic. The Doctor said there was an abandoned plate I could go hit, so I rock up.
And this turns out to be a rescue mission?!
You only just now realized?
Hah—I spent three nights in a row up for this mission, rushing a batch of superheavy-duty fortcracker arrows! And you're telling me I'm rescuing the barreners on that stupid plate?!
Toddifons... next time, make sure to read the mission brief beforehand?
There's a chance hostiles encamped the plate, in which case they've got defenses to counter with. You're good for assaulting fortified positions. That's why I asked the Doc to send you, just in case.
Even if we're taking on an abandoned plate, it still used to be a part of a nomadic city. It's always good to bring heavy arms.
*sigh* Would've gone out to town if I knew. Bloody end me—
Apparently these wastelanders have been moving with the nomadic city for a long while, just gritting their teeth waiting for a plate to get scrapped. They were hoping they could breathe easy for a few days with it, and find some supplies in there.
Turned out 'Mama John's' and the local pasha had a reclamation contract signed already.
Heh. They like to do their business direct. Nothing's changed.
We'll rendezvous at the Canning intersection. We're coming from southwest...
'Scuse me, Blaze. Doesn't visibility seem a little low to you?
Wind's funny...
Abnormal weather up ahead!
We see the sandstorm from our vehicle too!
Tha... That's gathering fast! Get in the truck!
Message from the landship, desert thunderstorm forming rapidly ahead! They'll navigate for us!
Move move move! We're distancing! Toddifons, Eunectes, find us, stat!
Pedal's to the metal already!
Dammit, you're still not gonna make it! Dump your equipment!
......
......
There's no time! Dump it!
I'll be real here, I've got no faith in prying a second siege ballista out of Closure's pockets.
We tuned the Raging Ironhide just last week.
Can... *zzzt* respond... *zzzt* ...ditch... landship *zzzt*...
Adjusting the guidance system was a pain in the neck.
Engineering's operators put so much blood and sweat into this model revision.
...ship...
Tch. The line cut out.
There's a cave in the mountains ahead to the left!
Want to gamble, Phidia?
Will it work?
Gauging how wide the truck is? Should be fine.
What about everything else?
So that's what you guys call lucky?
We're luckier the storm was small.
We came back out, we bumped into whoever they were—the Agama Gang. Didn't like the process of beating 'em up, if I'm honest. Might've gone smoother if it was just me, actually.
Hey! It was your fault for shooting your arrows everywhere!
I did point out where they were landing. Your fault for dodging too slow.
Why you...
We're here.
Could've been a moment sooner.
Listen up! You're illegally squatting on the property of Resource Reclamation Co., subsidiary of Mama John's. Per Mama John's consumer provisions, we have the right to forcibly evict and counterattack you to a reasonable extent.
Sir, we've never done a thing to offend anyone! Eaargh!
M... Mercy! My kids are still here!
Those bastards...!
I see Originium crystals on their skin. All Infected, basically. Careful, enemy's got artillery-type arms too.
There's fewer wastelanders on the left. I'll penetrate with the Raging Ironhide from that side. That's less accidental casualties.
Alright. Siege ballista erected, preparing to test-fire—
Round 1 failed. Adjusting position, elevating 3.2 degrees based on point of impact. Using demolishers for Round 2!
It's the tough guys HQ told us about! Return fire, return fire, don't let that tractor close in!
I repeat! She's called the Raging Ironhide—
Don't be stingy with ammo! Fire every last shell on you!
Hey, Miss! Careful!
Zumama, brake!
Is that all the firepower you've got? Don't underestimate the Engineering Department Mech Group! This is the fruits of our—
Uh.
Why did she stop?
Zumama, back up! I'll cover fire!
I'm restarting the engine!
Miss, your engine's third intake burned out! I've got spare parts! Cover me!
Final warning! You are impeding execution of a Mama John's contract!
Shit. Boss, our cannons are out! That redhead girl shoots like every shot's a miracle!
Zip it, I'll mess that cannoneer up myself. You go take down the snakelet.
Ready to fire demolisher #4!
Not on my watch!
Hah! I'm taking over here, redhead, your supersize bow's a risk to us all! Stand right there and don't move a muscle!
Well... this gets on my bloody nerves...
Listen, you hear me? I don't care who you are, or how those wasteland sons of bitches got in contact with you. We're cleaning out the trash here as is lawful and mandated!
Can you show me your contract a tic?
Hey, look, we ain't no wild brutes, we're resource reclamation practitioners. Resources mean value, means they deserve to be made use of, e.g. the parts and scrap metal here.
As for those resources that cannot be reclaimed, we're very sorry, but we will carry out appropriate procedure. I have no personal standing on these wasteland sons of bitches, but the rules are the rules.
'Reclaim and exploit: it's the nature of civilization.' That's our company motto, plastered on the wall back at the office.
If you'd just been honest and told me you're about survival of the fittest, I could've—maybe—given you some respect.
Nobody asked you! Time I taught you a lesson!
Gah!
Now you listen to me. You go massacring and call that 'civilization?' You go slitting throats and call that 'reclamation?'
You little bitch! I thought you were artillery, what the hell—gaaah!
That man runs for his life with his bindle and you hound him for fun. That woman tries to save her child and you drag her off by the hair.
You're just a bunch of gutless nobodies who happened to find yourself some weapons, looking for anyone who's old or weak or ill or bloody impaired enough to have your fun with.
Don't you look down on me—
Alright, there's a little spine in you. Survival of the fittest then, fist-to-fist, let's go?
Telling you now, the winner here ain't you.
You okay, Toddifons?! I'm coming to help!
Watch how you ride! I got your hunk of junk moving again, that's it! It's not gonna last!
That's your lot? Just small-fry? Tch. I was narked, but I think I've shaken it off now!
Shit, we're in too deep! Pull out, pull out!
Wow, I bust my ass getting here and it's just over? C'mon, play with me a little.
Eek—get outta here, run!
Is that a wrap?
Yeah, they partly scrammed. But they mentioned an agreement between Mama John's and the pasha...?
Mama John's won't acknowledge it. Still, we've gotta move these wastelanders ASAP. A couple of Infected are in pretty bad condition.
Oh, this ballista got its string tension stabilizer sliced off. My guess is it happened when the tractor came in.
...Huh?
Alright, I'm going to hit you this once and you're going to take it!
You busted my hydraulic system earlier!
Eye for an eye!
Aren't you gonna do something?
...*sigh*.
Er... that's the most repair work I can do you with what I've got, Miss Toddifons. You're probably gonna want to calibrate yourself.
This works.
Miss Eunectes, is your engine good?
Thanks for your spares. I think repairs are just about done.
Miss Blaze still has some tail-end work to finish. She says she'll meet up with you aboard the landship.
Fair.
Understood.
......
Atmosphere's got me, uh, feeling real awkward right now.
Seriously, why won't your barrener lot head to the Rhodes medical post nearby? They've got people sick to death.
That's the way we live. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. We came to the wild, so we're bound to return to the wild.
Dying to Oripathy's isn't any different from dying to bandits.
So you've never longed after... the civilization up on nomadic cities?
Hah... civilization.
We wastelanders are the ones it rejected. We can't go back.
But your mechanical handiwork. How did you...?
Don't ask. Never pry into a wastelander's past life.
This settlement did me a favor once, and I returned it as I should. Simple as that.
We cross two more dunes ahead and we'll reach the landship.
About time I parted ways. Thanks for giving me a ride.
Hey, redhead.
......
You've got talent.
We're back.
Yep... we're back.
You don't sense it when you're aboard, but seeing it from this angle...
...It really is such a wonder.
I grew up in the rainforests of Sargon, never coming into contact with any sort of machinery. Everyone lives perfectly fine on their fists alone. One day, I happened to see a nomadic city pass by.
I'll never forget the hazy, dusky shadow, the faraway rumble that morning. That was the sound of civilization and progress.
And we're living aboard one of those right now!
Rhodes Island isn't a nomadic city.
There's no talking machines in nomadic cities either!
Hey, Zumama.
Huh?
What do you reckon? If I fired off from this distance, would a heavy-duty fortcracker shot make it through Rhodes Island's outer armor?
Someone's no fun.
I was born in Victoria. Family of Vouivre, all immigrated from Sargon. Suppose we're from the same place, come to think. Sometimes my mam would even make Sargon stuff for dinner—supposedly, anyway.
Roast finmeat with plantains?
Barely as authentic. Just some red pepper tea and what have you...
They don't have it easy, Vouivre, finding footing in Victoria. They join the army, or they try blending in with the locals however. My family started running a factory, making... pulleys and stuff.
Not much amazing goes into that. Tear up some scrap, melt down to recast, keep the temperature steady, then pour it into circle molds. Anyone could do that.
It was like that until my granddad bought this lathe. Naff old second-hand model he got from who knows where, massive, heavy as all, used it for how many years.
Can you imagine, the first time it started up? It was horrible, obviously, but that massive din and the shaking, all those old parts coming to life... Couldn't even hear my own heartbeat.
More comforting than fighting ever was, right?
Bloody right.
You said civilization and progress... We've never pointed to a lathe and said 'civilization.'
It just makes our lives that titchy bit better to live, that's all.
So, that was your field mission, huh?
Yes.
That's not bad! Sounded pretty exciting to me! That red-haired Vouivre, what was she, Toddifons? She sounds like a real rock-hard fist kinda girl!
I think you made a new friend!
Gah, who the hell?!
Zumama, I got the MK30 of my siege ballista all hammered out! Come to the training ground!
You must be Toddifons!
Oh, Gavial. I'm here for a go with Eunectes.
She was just telling me she upgraded the Raging Ironhide into the Manic Ironhide! C'mon c'mon c'mon, I'm on break today! You guys fight your hearts out, I'll be there on call, so beat the hell out of each other!
...*sigh*.