First-ever Emma character art

  Jubey finished up final repairs on his Mecha. Jordan (his Al nickname hadn’t spread wide enough to feel comfortable using) had requisitioned it to him as part of his maneuvering to build the new facility. He immediately loaded LongArc artillery missiles into the shoulders, but knew actually using any of the weapons near the hangar would attract low level military staff.

  Replacing the arms was a tough job, as its entire previous kit had been confiscated by Steel secret overseers. Jubey had ordered quadruped construction bots to install a giant machine gun and aiming mechanism right into the left joint, and Emma laughed when she saw it. Actually entering the battlefield, though, would require a working arm to haul rubble and achieve other tasks, so he went out into the Orange perimeter of a combat zone to threaten wavering scientists with the machine gun.

  “N-no, we swear! We aren't defecting! We-we were just having a chat with the Blue squad lieutenant to calm tensions and avoid becoming a target!” Jubey narrowed his Mech’s eyes and tipped down slowly. “Alright, prove it. Figure out how to turn a crane arm into a mech arm! And with the correct paint scheme!”

  The scientists poured over his Mech’s documentation and began sketching out a way to wrap the crane arm with cables and modify the joint for mecha use. His whole team of loyal scientists and engineers were very busy with the RA-RE project, hangar modifications, cutting edge facility construction, and other tasks, and so funny enough kidnapping near-traitors was the best way to get work done. They argued with themselves about who had the most creative sensibilities for painting the crane to match Jubey’s Mech. The winner went up with an airbrush, stencils, and a paint tank, but it seeped into hastily-done bad insulation and the crane swung back and forth from the resultant glitch like it was flexing. He screamed and was flung on the teeth of the clamshell bucket, but the paint quickly dried to fix the insulation.

  Its disc joint was broken down from a lifter bot who yelled “no” until its simple AI was given second life as a riveter bot. It still made sniffling sounds as it secured its former body to Jubey’s Mech. The bucket was shattered, reinforced with ShockSteel skeleton, and given new articulation and finger armor. The scientists figured out how to hack the control nodes to connect to the operating system of the Mech, and it was now nearly qualified as a Mecha outside of mock battles in the hangar.

  “Thank you!” Jubey shouted, his face visible in a tent of the Orange perimeter. “Now in order to prove your loyalty, you'll be loaded into the cargo space of my back as I enter the Red Zone! Gotta make sure it stays functioning throughout First Strike.”

  The scientists whimpered and said “wait…” but reluctantly climbed in. Jubey fully powered up and checked his temps. 1 degree higher than standard deploy stats. That slash Rare left was stubborn… and he suspected what the cut left behind wasn't only damage.

  He marched through city streets. Sidewalks torn up, facades blown across his path, giant spent shells and duds, piles and clouds of dust. His sensors blared as he crossed the threshold line into the Red Zone, laser light passing throughout his cockpit. His simple mechbound AI started up: “No enemies detected.” He stepped three times. “Enemies detected.” Soldiers in dim blue uniforms emerged from chunks of cement, shouted, and dove behind them or into the nearest dewindowed storefront. He turned on his speakers: “What’s a guy gotta do to get some pilot practice around here? Any targets willing to give me a hand?” he heard a single “hell no” amplified by his HUD. He stomped further, and further, and the sounds of whimpering and rapidly yammered panic were fully cleaned up by his sensors. “Tell ya what! It's not a REAL test unless I test my full capabilities against an equal threat class! I'll just secure these non-targets as leverage to attract a real target.” His only arm used the draining tube of the crane to inject into the paint tank, what remained of the paint mixing into a surge of repair foam, which caused the foam to be more fluid and stick more stubbornly. Then it slammed down the tank on the ground, leaving slight cracks, and spraying in a 360 horizontal burst, coating exposed Blue soldiers and the openings of hiding places of the others. The caught soldiers strained against thick mats of swirled white-blue, fully immobilized and trying to scream. In 30 seconds, their distress signal attracted one of the three Mech in the area.

  “You’ve entered the combat zone,” the darker, purpled blue Mech blared, “and only have one arm? It doesn't have a gun! Guess they've got everybody else busy with their war-end plan.”

  “You’re right. And see what I have planned!” Jubey machinegunned a support beam of the ruined building facing him, crashing into it with his crane arm and dodging a missile salvo that impacted the intact one to his right. He rolled and slid through the far wall before the floors above could crash on him. He grabbed a still-standing support beam with chunks of the foammix that had stuck to the palm, keeping it gripped, and flew with a rocket surge from his boots, somersaulting to bat a building onto the Target as he landed, his machine gun nearing the ground as he balanced himself.

  “Protip, newbie, our armor is shock-enhanced and rated for building debris.” It stumbled forward under the cascade of breaking floors, an armor sheet becoming unfitted. It turned and used the central Plasma barrel of its shotgun to destroy the remaining skeleton of the building, but Jubey was already gone. It torso-swirled and stomped to the northeast, and saw the whole park clear-cut by the support beam. There was a massive hiss, a guttural rattle, and a desert Jawjaw Crocodile emerged from a hole in the ground, frustrated to lose its source of just-enough water from a transplanted burrowing cactus. The base of its jaw was chiseled and oversized, and it had the biteforce to damage vehicles.

  “Killing that thing is a minor war crime I’m willing to take.” Jubey misdirected the source of his blared response: “What about the greater war crime of allowing your squaddies to die? You know how hard it is to slice open a foammix mat? But good old Jawjaw will do it like a pro to get a bloody drink.” “You maniac! You’re not really putting together death traps your first day on the battlefield, are you?” “Wanna test me?” The Target shotgunned out windows to increase area of sight, not trusting Jubey was anywhere before he could see him.

  Jubey dashed through the streets, keeping his crane arm folded to avoid the creaks of makeshift work. His AI spoke: “One of the hostages has reached 90% oxygen depletion.” A soldier facing the tank spray had gotten his whole face matted aside from 1 eye. Jubey darted around to the hostage area as the Jawjaw ambled towards it. “Hey!” He shouted, his speaker source still echoing around the Target, “you’ve been buddying with these scientists? I’ll let one of them out to help your guy if you deactivate one of your arms. Fair’s fair.”

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  “Quit fooling around!” hollered the blue Mech, speaker raising to a crackle.”

  “No, seriously, he’s about to die. Awful way to go. 3 minute disable? Plenty of time to make the field test more accurate.”

  “AGH!” The fury was evident, but he went ahead and gave in to a demand he never would otherwise, and his shotgun was deactivated since he thought Jubey was far. Jubey sat down near the hostages, letting one out who hollered about the terrifying vertigo he had experienced despite the cargo compartment’s padding providing some insulation. The Blue pilot wouldn’t expect that as part of the moves driving him insane that he had been somersaulting with hostages, and so after handing the departed scientist a knife he charged straight towards the Target. “Ragh!” “Yeah, is it dishonorable or not, my warrior spirit’s still lacking! ?” He unfolded his crane arm as the missile launcher swirled a salvo around him, punched the Target in his very low disc-shaped head, and ran behind him. The Target whirled with haphazard motions, seeking to collapse a building in the flee route or shoot through buildings and choosing neither. The AI reported: “Salvo explosions scorched back crest and left temple. Atmospheric leak created: local field temperature affects internal with 2% equalization per second.” Jubey rushed between parked jeeps. “Heat diffusers in crest at 97% effectiveness. Balance 1% unstable due to several dysfunctional panels and layers shifting.” Heat was everything at the peak of a battle, so he should make it happen within 2:42 minutes, he decided. His rocket boots got him on the tallest building to his right, knowing the Target was anticipating a route to a short-range attack. He leapt, and the Target noticed him 3/4ths of the way down. The crane fist bashed a dent in its head, and he swung around as the missile salvo hit in a 360 scramble. His left leg was hit as he swung near one of the buildings being hit, furrowing the external layer of the armor. The machine gun was difficult to get on the Target, but he aimed right into the back of the head where there was a large armored tube, and ammo stores deeper down. He shot for 1.75 seconds before he had to fling off around a collapsing building. He stepped heavily and leapt back, grappling for the shotgun arm as the Target cursed him.

  As Jubey sought to force his crane arm into the firing position of the Target’s disabled shotgunning arm, he flashed back to being in school the day the military academy came for recruiting in the mid-years. They played a recording of The Commander: a white robotic suit swirling around Green troopers, grabbing a shotgun to hit several from behind. His battle prowess was incredible, and some of the kids wanted to be like him, as happened in every school. That was when an upswell of hope took place that Peace could actually arrive: a top tier soldier who could unite the entire nation. He was not interested - not because he wasn’t moved, but because he was a geek, and he could take his combat urges to video games. And yet the twisted path of Life took him to a day where he chose to go back to the real thing while hardly realizing it. What had become of him? What was he becoming? He couldn’t decide. He was still doing what would decide it.

  His clamshell fingers twirled for the trigger, not perfectly articulated but adequate. The Target’s pilot panted into his speaker that was left on, whispering to his squaddies something Jubey couldn’t hear… likely even if his sensors amplified it. He twirled his back around the Target and used the crane’s long sections to go back for the gun grip. Moving into areas that missiles had hit was beginning to make him sweat. Still fully functional, but pressuring his newbie piloting… he made a shot from the gun, and shoved his weight into the Target to embed it in the broken building front. Another shot let him shoulder it deeper. The scientist had cut the foammix mat 10 seconds ago, peeling it with hard pulls until the squaddie burst into hyperventilation. It must be returning the confidence of the Target pilot, but he was already down as his moves got more surgical.

  The Blue pilot was getting out from under him very quickly, and the cockpit’s increasing heat was washing out his vision. Fringes eating away at his normal clarity refined by contacts and a long history of nerdery. He didn’t have anything to say, but the Target pilot did: “Fire support on my position! Look for the white crest!” His speaker kept on let Jubey know help was coming from the rest of the Red Zone… but maybe a primal virility had entered the enemy pilot, and he wanted Jubey to know.

  He trained his machine gun at the nape of the neck again, and burst one of the ammo bays. They were separated into stacked compartments, but the fractures and flame would create a similar heat condition soon. Not soon enough… He moved the spray of fire to tubing of the Missile Launcher arm, seeking to disable it before breaking away. A minute left until the return of the shotgun against him. A tube was pierced, a shaft was bent from internal bursts, but it still looked functional. He had to reload and he began punching in vulnerable join areas as the Target raised itself. The support beam had been cast across the courtyard, and it would make a hell of a finisher. The Jawjaw… his focus went to his HUD, and confirmed that it was approaching the hostages. He detached a scout drone which flew there, guiding the croc to the thickest-matted soldiers by highlighting it with energy.

  “Hey… aren’t you supposed to be the support…? Why am I getting assault rifle and flare shots when your squaddies are gonna get eaten?”

  “Bastard! You and your fancy suit… we’ve caught up with walking tanks, but such humanoid movement… wish I had it, ya $@&#%.” It got onto its feet, pushing with the launcher arm to keep balance. The shotgunner twitched and quivered as its functionality lock started to break before time was up. The foammix chunks were still somewhat sticky, enough to pick up a chunk of a third floor and smash the top of the Target as it heatedly whirled. Its sensors disoriented and glitched out, Jubey strode across the courtyard as the troopers shot him, one targeting the superficial damage on a leg. “Minor armor rating reduction.” Jubey checked the HUD for what the AI was withholding from him, and saw that his temps were 3° higher than normal while so close to combat’s peak. That stubborn cut… a red swirl came into his HUD, and Jubey saw that there was a damaged section of systemic plating between armor plates highlighted by the swirl. He turned at the farthest effective range of the machine gun and fired for 3 seconds, crippling it as the shotgun reactivated. The Target’s legs began to glitch and tiny plumes of fire leaked from damaged places. He didn’t remember the swirl, but hooted at hitting such a tiny gap between armor. He grabbed the support beam and came charging back as grenade launchers fired from the Blue ground troops. He swung to hit the grenades at the top of the arcs, completed the twirl, and used his rocket boots to accelerate at the last 500 yards, bringing down the beam-bat. “Bastard! I’ll get a new Mech and hunt you down, noob!” The missile homing was misdirected by the onboard computer, and the shotgun blasts did significant superficial damage as he landed and caved in the Target’s left side, and it began to melt down the power core via internal metal shards piercing it.

  The Personnel Carrier support intended as the main attack on Jubey was misdirected by traveling to the foammixed soldiers as fast as it could, arriving as the soldier being bitten let out muffled screams, the Jawjaw pausing for 10 seconds between each bite as it was confused that no water came out. It was led out back to the underground near another transplant cactus, the soldier it attacked only having pinprick cuts.

  Jubey marched back to the hangar, the AI listing all damage received in nerdy detail. He did good for a newbie.

  What’s cooler?