Humanity's Greatest Mecha Warrior System-Novel

The Abraham Kepler salvaged as many landers as they possibly could to start bringing troops back on board. Most of the ones that dropped in the first wave are scrap even if they made it to the planet intact and will need to be recycled, but the second wave mostly made it down without taking fire.

[Stalwart, please lead your unit to lander AK90210 for orbital extraction.] Comes the announcement for their ride home among a long list of other mobilization orders.

The lander they are assigned to was a command unit during the drop, extra Armored and painted with adaptive camouflage instead of the standard black. They seem to be the last ones to load, with most of the lander’s mecha restraints already occupied when they arrive.

Most of the Mecha look much worse than his own unit, pitted by small arms fire and cratered by mecha attacks. One even has a long, burnt streak almost through the top carapace armor and three deep marks from where it survived close combat with a Thermal Torch equipped claw._.

Most of the Pilots have disembarked and are sharing a laugh and a drink from the small stock of non alcoholic beverages on board, but Max opts to relax in his mecha until they leave the atmosphere.

Despite the world being declared as fully subdued, leaving in the first wave of landers can be almost as dangerous as dropping with them. Any surviving Rebels will surely want one last bit of vengeance.

Max didn’t have access to the landers computer systems, but there is no sign of hostile fire that he can hear or feel on their way up. Just a few minutes of extremely high gravity and shaking, then a smooth transition to artificial gravity a few seconds after the shaking ends.

[AK90210, Proceed to bay H23] Comes the docking announcement and Max smiles. Sector H of the launch bays is closest to their hangers, so his unit will be among the first that are squared away and ready for tomorrow’s debriefing and the expected deployment changes.

Despite Max’s enthusiasm for returning to his bunk, the mood aboard the Abraham Kepler is somber. They might be the first ones back, but the crew aboard the ship has access to the satellite footage of the battlefield, so they have been able to keep track of the battle’s progress, as well as the estimated losses.

Most aren’t watching it for entertainment, instead they need to keep updated on the situation so they can prepare supply and parts drops for the mecha that they are responsible for. Max dropped deep into enemy territory this time, so that wasn’t an option for his unit, but for those on the front lines, regular supplies are both expected and absolutely vital to their success and continued combat capability.

The repair bays get to work on their units right away, wanting to get as much done as possible before the next wave arrives. Max didn’t take much damage, but Nico did. Nothing that would risk disabling the mecha, but every single armor panel has some level of damage.

Max is watching them work when a tech called Fritz Comes to talk to him.

“Don’t look so concerned. For a close combat Mecha, that level of damage is nothing. I mean it looks bad, but none of it made more than a fifteen percent reduction in armor efficiency, it is all surface damage. Not that it makes the repair crews any happier, but they will have it all sorted out by morning.”

Compared to the Crusaders, the Light Mecha had it hard. Six units moderately or severely damaged with two or if them inoperable. But at least they still had all their pilots. Bravo Company lost six men in the initial assault to capture the vehicles, and twenty three more are injured.

Captain Catan has already led his men back to their quarters, or to medical bay for recovery, and Nico is assisting with the repairs to Tarith’s Rage, so Max joins with Lieutenant Becki and the light mecha for an evening meal and a few drinks.

More units filter in over the course of the evening, with the all loaded call sounding just after midnight. The Abraham Kepler must have gotten advanced loading priorities, since they have everyone back on board at the end of the first day of the scheduled five day departure window, or perhaps their losses and already reduced numbers just combined to make retrieval that easy.

Max stops in at the Special Forces Cadets dorms, finding that they are empty, but occupied, so at least some of them made it back, but he will have to ask how their mission went later. Nico’s bunk shows occupied, so she must be asleep already, which means her mecha must be fixed. She wouldn’t go to bed if it wasn’t, she would be asleep in the cockpit.

The full cost of the Battle of Belmont becomes clear the next morning, when max checks the ship’s status.

704 Combat ready mecha, down from 1065 before the battle, and the 111th Infantry is down to just over thirty thousand combat ready men, a loss of ten thousand.

A thirty percent casualty rate in a single battle might not be unheard of, but if the overall numbers look like that, Imperial Doctrine would count it as a tactical loss, though it was technically a victory as the planet was brought back into compliance.

The overall numbers aren’t something that he has access to though, and at this point, Max would rather not know. Their own personal slice of hell was enough for him.

The Special Forces Cadets are in mourning when max sees them at lunch, only four of the Light Mecha made it home from their deployment on the front lines, as well as both Russo and Ibanez, but Ibanez was seriously injured when his Mecha, Scimitar took two direct hits from a Battle Cannon.

The mecha is still on the inoperable list, but Ibanez is now up and mobile after a night of intensive treatment in the medical bays, following the days of treatment in the field. An Alpha Ranked Pilot can recover from almost anything if their body is intact, so he must have been in a very bad way to begin with.