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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/micktalian on 2024-12-25 20:11:57+00:00.
Part 103 Bearing arms (Part 1) (Part 102)
For the vast majority of species in the Galactic Community Council, cybernetic augmentation is seen as either a medical necessity or a highly controversial means of enhancing combat abilities. Replacing lost limbs, substituting improperly functioning organs, or other essential medical procedures are generally considered acceptable, if a bit gruesome at times, by most Ascended life in the galaxy. Even if some people and entire cultures were repulsed by the idea of melding the organic with the mechanical, prejudice or ill-treatment towards cyborgs is essentially unheard of. On the other hand, military-grade cybernetics and the weaponization of one's own body aren't just highly regulated, the concepts utterly horrified most people. Of course, some governments within the GCC believe in the rights of self modification, self defense, and owning personal weapons.
While the Nishnabe culture on Shkegpewen was certainly unique even compared to their closest kin in Sol and the European-Americans that currently occupied their ancestors' homelands, all three shared a very particular set of interests. In America during the 2230s, the enthusiasm surrounding the right to bear arms, including the weaponization of cybernetics, was just as boisterous as it ever was. Similarly, all of the Ojibwe, Odawa, and Potawatomi Nations now based out of the Aram Chaos Colony on Mars not only encouraged individuals to be willing and able to defend themselves, it was a point of pride. After all, their continued sovereignty and existence as independent governments relied on it. Even if military grade cybernetics weren’t quite as common on Shkegpewen as they were on Earth or Mars, citizens of the Nishnabe Confederacy were just as well armed as their counterparts from Sol.
So much so that the fact Mik was sitting on a park bench style seat in front of his temporary quarters aboard the Kokoji-Wango with his revolver in pieces in front of him wasn't seen as unusual. Though this was a military vessel and every single person was carrying around some sort of weapon, there was an armory where he could be performing this task in private. However, Tens had assured him that it was commonplace for warriors to tinker with their weapons wherever they pleased, so long as they were safe about it. And this way the pair of men could enjoy a smoke and morning beverage while the Wango got into formation with the rest of the ships joining this mission. It would still be another day or so before the battle actually started, but the time was drawing near. If nothing else, Tens wanted his Martian friend to be in a calm and calculating state of mind for when they did finally drop on those fascist crabs.
“I'm still surprised that these little copper things hold enough explosive to safely launch a projectile that fast.” As Tens twisted the finger-sized .45-70 cartridge in his hand, he found the blunt-tipped piece of plastic sticking out the end to be quite fascinating. “And these are what that Tom Ryan guy and his warriors will be using when they breach the Chigagorian cruiser, right?”
“I mean, they're probably runnin’ different calibers, but yeah. It's gonna be some kinda guns.” Mik was clearly distracted as he carefully polished each piece of his disassembled hand cannon. “This particular thang ain't ‘xactly the most practical weapon. Raiders'll probably be usin’ tricked out ZCR-29s ‘r auto-shotties ‘r somethin’ like that. Hell, they may even whip out the big guns for this.”
“The big guns?” With the memory of the weapons demonstration Mik and Sarah had performed back on The Hammer still in his mind, Tens could immediately imagine the kind of firepower being referred to. However, considering just how many different large guns had been shown off, he would only vaguely narrow down the selection. “How big are we talking?”
“I ain't sure.” The Martian professor carefully examined the recoil spring of his revolver with his cybernetic eye. Much like in the original Mateba Unica, that particular component was a failure point in his modified and modernized recreation of that classic firearm. “Tom's bringin’ Gold Team so… Honestly, they might bring the real big guns. ‘Member that gatlin’ gun I showed yah? I know one o’ ‘em borgs loves their spinny boy! Say… Do yah think the fabs on this ship can make me a new one o’ these?”
“Let me see that.” Tens reached over, gently took the spring, and as he brought it close to his face to look it over, he slipped it into the palm of his hand while pretending to toss it away.
“Fucker.” Mik wasn't so easily fooled by such a simple sleight of hand trick but did find it rather humorous. “It's a nickel, chromium, steel alloy. Kinda expensive back on Mars, but I figure y'all could probably forge me a better one.”
“Yeah, the mechanics could make this.” Seeing as his friend reacted with nothing more than a laugh and harsh retort, Tens could only smile as he revealed the spring to still be in his hand before giving it back. “Just tell them the specs and they'll come up with something. But, anyways, about those big guns…”
“If yah wanna know what the Raiders're runnin’ just ask-” Mik had taken his revolver’s recoil spring back with a bit of force but hadn't even had a chance to set it down yet before a very recognizable voice call out.
“Mik! Tens! There you two are!” Both Mik and Tens looked over to see General Tom Ryan marching towards them with War Chief Msko Pkwenech at his side.
“Why the hell yah yellin’, Ryan?” The Martian professor turned his attention back towards his disassembled gun and began putting the parts back together.
“I need you two to settle something for us!”
“Pffft.” Mik forced out a sarcastic scoff. Regardless of how tough he pretended to be, he was still a bit scared of the cyborg Marine General. “Whatever it is, Msko's right!”
“Which are better, our guns or the Nishnabe’s mag-slings?”
While Tens was confused as to why this was being debated, Mik had a far more extreme reaction. As soon as General Ryan asked that question, the Martian professor set down the components in his hands, stared straight ahead, then slowly turned towards the pair of quickly approaching older men with his head tilted at a slight angle. For the few seconds it took for Tom and Msko to close the gap and begin standing in front of the bench, Mik had a blank expression on his scared face. Of all the possible questions that he could have been asked, that was one he had not been expecting. Though the look on his face was still, his eyes gave away the inner conflict that the cyborg had just forced onto him.
As an academic, Mik knew that the highly advanced technologies that went into the Nishnabe mag-slings were supreme. Those particular weapons were not only surprisingly quiet, highly modular, and had a wide variety of munitions they could put down range, they were also incredibly deadly. With the ability to switch between rapid fire and single devastating shots at the flip of a switch, nothing from Sol could really compare. However, firearms were versatile and dependable in ways that simply couldn't be denied. Where mag-slings could be effective in multiple roles with just the changing of a setting or minor modifications, purpose-built guns could fill those specific roles as well, if not better. So long as the ammo was just as good as the shooter, which applied to both types of weapon, Mik couldn't honestly say which was better without his personal biases slipping through.
“Shit, man…” After staring for so long that Tens was actually starting to get concerned, Mik finally broke his silence. “I couldn't tell yah! Like askin’ if I'd rather have an original numbers matchin’ Cuda or a GTO Judge!”
“You know there is one way we could settle this…” Tens chimed in while shooting Msko a rather befuddled look. “After this mission, just compare the combat efficiency data from this guy's warriors to our breacher teams. Give them a handicap since it's their first mission and-”
“My marines don't need a goddamn handicap!” General Ryan seemed personally insulted by that suggestion.
“He hasn't seen any of the reports from the combat sims your teams have been participating in, Tom.” Msko quickly gave Tens a somewhat serious look, which only added to the younger warrior's confusion. “Our breacher teams may actually have trouble keeping up with Ryan's Raiders. But the reason why we're trying to settle this debate is because we need to figure out which weapons we should train our new recruits from Sol on.”
“Why can't they just build their own weapons the way we do?” For Tens and every other member of Nishnabe Militia, assembling and customizing their own mag-slings was a right of passage. “I mean, look at Mik here. He built this thing.”
“Son, do you have any idea how many people who've already applied to join the UHDF?” Tom asked with a vaguely patronizing tone. “We aren't about to waste that kind of time or money just so two million people can say they built their own gun.”
“Two million?!?” From a brief moment, all Tens could do was stare with a wide-eyed, dumbfounded expr...
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