Ray was sitting quietly in the mess hall, finishing up his meal in the corner. He scarfed down his sandwhich earlier, and took his sweet time finishing up the soup, staring longingly into it as if it'd give him some answers. He was used to being lonely and a bit of an outsider in any group he was in, but for the entire week he...

He didn't really do much outside of what was required for him. He did his best and 'scored' decently high in the obstacle course, except that one time he accidentally fell and hit their drill sergeant, Or whatever her official title was, Rebecca. 'Her name was Rebecca, right?'. He was mentally a mess right now. He couldn't remember anything specific recently, things were so monotonous. He hoped something exciting would happen.

He then remembered that yes, something exciting would happen soon. Graham's 'ultimatum'. His primary question then, was severely important to him. To the point he audibly asked it, if quietly. "Who names their kid after a type of cracker anyway? I like them, but wow, at least use Bob...". He got out his logbook from his pant-pocket and wrote that down for further questioning. 'Why name kid Graham?'

As Lunch was up, he quietly got up from his table, 'his' due to the fact nobody else ever ate with him yet, and went to deposit his dishes and get out of the mess-hall, to aimlessly wander the base. Alone. again. Ray sighed as he went to meander over to the restroom, 'I didn't know being part of a team could be so lonely.'. Nonetheless, as he went over to open the door, he still realized 'Well, no sense in getting attached before I'm more... officially hired anyway.'

He went to relieve himself, until a woman's voice told him, "Uhh.. this is the girl's restroom?"

"Oh.", He stood there awkwardly, before slowly backing out with an "Okay."

After that little incident, he briskly walked to the gym. (After taking a leak in the proper room, of course.)

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“Are you sure? It’s only been nine days. I’m surprised you’ll be opting out of your contract.”

Michael Graham crossed his arms as he looked across from his desk— the black matted hair of the pilot known as Alexander Sky looking back at him with a look of unease.

Out of all of the new pilots he had contracted that arrived nine days ago, Alexander Sky, much like Yeshua Horowitz was on the last of suspects to request a dismissal. But while Yeshua gave him little comprehensive reasoning Alex seemed to be the exact opposite as he glanced around the office nervously. Graham thought maybe he could convince him to stay on as a pilot if it was a problem with his confidence in Graham or the incident with Dupoint in the Mess Hall— an incident that had led to him reclusing into his quarters when it wasn’t mandatory to be elsewhere. The young man grabbed the cuff of his jacket, straightening it out as if to calm his nerves before responding to Graham outright.

“I’m not opting out of my contract—” He muttered under his breath as he moved his eyes from a nearby wall to look back at Graham.

Alexander was mostly definitely nervous, but that’s not what caused Graham to reach for the handgun that was underneath his desk, holstered in case a conflict came when he could not properly react due to his position behind his desk. He hoped his gut feeling was wrong— but he had been in similar situations with raiders and fellow comrades. The mania of conflict and the crisis of ideology was one he had seen cause others to instinctively react with a viciousness that befitted monsters. Alexander was letting his past define his present and as a byproduct was likely to pull the trigger as soon as he drew his handgun— Graham’s eyes moved to Alexander’s belt where he could see the Red Star-issued handgun that the black-haired pilot and soldier hadn’t parted with. He returned his glance to look at Alexander so he didn’t notice that Graham was looking at his body language as hostile.

“I know who you are and I know what you are doing, Graham. I thought my instincts were wrong when I stepped off the tram, I thought that you couldn’t possibly be what was hunting me, I thought you could be someone I could respect and admire. But you just want to turn me into a slave again— you want to enslave New Anchorage. I know it. I’ve seen people like you at Red Star. You almost tricked me.”

Graham’s brows narrowed as Alex looked at him with a nervous confidence.

“I’m not sure what you’re on about, Sky. You have the wrong idea.”

“Do I? Your military ‘administration’ has turned soldiers into obedient little drones, threatening that if anyone steps out of line gets thrown down if not killed— the soldier at the Mess Hall? T-That’s proof of it. I should’ve been allowed to object to your treatment of Percy! Your order is not absolute… and definitely not perfect. You’re holding chains and I won’t be swayed by your lies. You may not believe in morality— but let me tell you that it exists and it was only going to be a matter of time before someone stepped up to oppose you. I’m not going to let you enslave these people. New Anchorage will be liberated from this junta you want to create… I should’ve told the others but they will understand after you’re dead. We’ll elect someone else… someone better.”

Graham kicked himself up to his feet— handgun raised at Alex. “Think about this, Sky. It does not go down well for you.”

“Heh… should’ve known you’d be ready. That won’t matter. I will rescue everyone.”

Graham cursed to himself as he saw Alexander reach for his own handgun.

Damn it.

---

A red splatter exploded from the target that Tahlia could see down the very end of her sights. With a limp drop and a roll to one of the sides with what was left of the bloody mess, she made grin... a grin of satisfaction for murdering an element out of her life that she had come to hate oh so much.

"Never did like watermelons," she joked to herself as she pulled the bolt back on her rifle and ejected the shell casing. With everything that had been going on during the week and how she had told her mechanics about her son, Tahlia needed to just simply vent some frustration and remember what it was like to cause a mess with such a deadly device. It was a rare thing to experience when you operated an NC and it came down to one key factor... you rarely saw the person's death.

Not seeing someone's death was something that the woman had grown accustomed to. Being the ranged attacker that she was and sitting as far back on the battlefield as possible, Tahlia only saw the deaths of her targets through the map information that her NC and the Drone issued to her. A disappearing dot on a radar screen, a fading light like the light of someone's life.

Tahlia pulled out the magazine and disarmed the rifle before placing it onto the table next to where she was lying prone. She hit a buzzer button on the wall, triggering a loud siren and a strobe light that began flashing just in front of her booth. Throwing her jacket over her body and pulling up the hood, she began the long walk down to where her fruit corpse was splattered. As she walked she felt rather exposed to the elements and dangers that an NC protected her from. Sure there were people supervising the range and she had done everything correctly as to not cop a stray bullet in the back, but that wouldn't necessarily stop someone with a vendetta. She didn't know what her reputation might be in a place like this and if there was a price on her head from one of the other companies.

I know Graham at some point is going to ask about my history. The thought went through her head like a nail. Both painful and certain. The longer she stayed here, the more everyone would find out about her secrets and the way Red Star operated. Would they fear her, loath her, pity her?

"Tahlia... Shut the fuck up!" she swore as she came up to the victim of such a horrendous murder, looking down at a watery death. The Australian kneeled down, placing her finger in the ooze and scooping up a bit towards her mouth before taking a lick. A shudder went down her spine with the sweet flavour that she hated oh so much.

"Even metho wouldn't salvage the taste of this shit."

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Joshua Ray was wandering the halls, steering himself vaguely towards the gymnasium but deciding to just enjoy the view walking there, metaphorically. The air inside was a bit still and too recycled in his opinion, and noting this he wondered if Graham was a Burrower. He was pretty sure Burrows were like that. He probably controlled the 'environment' inside the base, being the overall Commander.

Nonetheless, his temporarily aimless floating about resulted in him seeing another Plugger just like himself. He then went up behind this Plugger, quietly, then made sure he was seen and heard with a simple, "Hello.". He walked with this one for a few moments, before deciding to stop and have a conversation. "Can we talk?"

Joe Verona, who was heading to the administrative area of the base at the moment, responded to the "Hello." with a surprised "Y-Yes? How can I—", before he was interrupted by the same person.

"I don't see why we couldn't talk, at least until our paths split again."

Joshua attempted to break the ice. "I agree. I'm Joshua, you?"

"Verona, Joe Verona. Nice to meet you."

Joshua continued the conversation of few-words with his own name. "Ray, Joshua Ray. Nice to meet you too, Verona. So, what NC do you pilot? I pilot the Apollo Heavy, big red one?"

"I think I recall seeing that one in the hangar. I myself pilot the Swarm, Unit 01. You have probably seen it already on your way through the hangar."

Nodding, Joshua said, then asked, "You're correct. Haven't you been trying to get a little unique system installed on it properly? Mind enlightening me?"

A bit flattered by Joshua's interest, and with a bit of pride about his idea, Joe answered: "In fact I have been and still am. Considering your interest, you have probably noticed how most of it is just speakers."

"Yep, from my knowledge that's a giveaway that you're trying to make some sort of sonic weapon. I presume you're attempting to create a.. I forgot the name, but the type of weapon that uses soundwaves to damage the target? With that I presume you're not one to let things go to waste!" Just like Joe, Joshua seemed a tad excited about the concept. He addended his previous statement with a, "I'm not sure if those even exist, in mass-production anyway."

"Indeed. It is basically an upscaled LRAD, so it has more volume over a larger distance, however it won't just use sheer volume to blow out the enemy's eardrums."

Playfully 'dissapointed' and with a smirk, "So it won't be able to drop the bass?", Joshua questioned.

With a chuckle Joe corrected "It could, but it wouldn't be of use, unless the enemy is allergic to bass."

Joshua chuckled along. He was just happy he found a new acquaintance. He nodded to let Joe know to continue speaking.

"In any case, it's main use should be causing destructive resonance in an enemy's NC's frame or skeleton, whichever you call it. The best analogy I'd have would be me somehow breaking all your bones without harming any soft tissue in the slightest." He added rather silently: "Damage from subsequent collapse of the body not included."

Joshua smirked and snarked "I definitely needed the mental image of somebody collapsing as his bones cracked because somebody dropped all the bass at once. No nightmares from me, no sirree.". He tried to finalize this part of the conversation with a, "Nonetheless, really sounds like a very useful weapon. Should work wonders against enemy NC's, mostly because then we'll be able to just scoop up the parts. That'll be humorous."

"It would definetly be. One of its advantages is, that it can't be dodged, unless the enemy is miles away, although it will take time to deal enough damage. The other main advantage is as you stated, although it also leaves any enemy's dead hand switches intact."

"Yeah, that'd be sort of horrifying. Should remind the salvaging team or what-have-you to wear a bombsuit.". The two were outside where Joe was headed, the entrance to the administrative area, and Joshua simply nodded as he left Joe to do that.

Two gunshots rang out, presumably from the shooting range. Joshua continued his wanderings, and changed his destination to the firing range, to see who was shooting what.

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It had been a long and rather eventful day.

The thought occured to Vera as she made her way through the corridors of the barracks, her mind wandering as she did so. While the small spat was certainly fresh and though she’d be stopping to see Ana first thing in the morning if she could, what truly concerned her was the morning’s events in the simulation labs with Dr. Lofgren. The results had come out positive— a fact that even she knew the rarity of being. It sent shivers of excitement through her veins, but beyond that excitement there was also fear. Not for the possible future, but for Lizzy; for what she might think, what she might say, and what she might do. All of it was supposed to be just one big “if” but the more she thought about it the smaller that “if” became.

She’d been waiting all day, or maybe longer, to knock on Stein’s door.

As she approached the door it slid open, as it had been set to an unlocked “open entry” sort of position. Vera’s eyes moved upward as the figure of the person she had come to see hung from the rafters with her legs wrapped around one of the supports for the ceiling, her hair drawn loose as it dropped towards the floor; Stein’s cerulean eyes looking towards Vera. A second later, Stein continued what she was doing as she crunched upwards as she continued the exercise she had been doing.

“Vera.” She commented as she moved forward into a crunch.

The younger girl’s eyes lit up, her apprehension vanishing in an instant, in favor of a familiar grin.

”Woah.” She muttered, before remembering herself. ”Uh... can I come in? S’not a bad time right?”

“The door is unlocked.” The older woman commented, as if openly inviting the girl in. “If it was a bad time the door would be locked or I would be in my NC.”

Vera didn’t mind the flat response, it was familiar and, despite the coldness, she found a comfort in it. With a spring in her step she entered, shutting the door behind her. ”Actually do you mind if I lock it?”

Stein stopped her exercise as she asked and shot the girl a quizzical expression. “I don’t see why not. Is there something wrong?”

”Nothing’s, well…”

Vera inhaled, sharp and long as she began trying to think of what to say and how to say it. She wasn’t afraid or even intimidated— she liked Stein and definitely trusted her, but she wasn’t exactly used to venting out her worries. At least not ones that concerned her. Vera made her way to the bed, but didn’t hop onto it, and instead plopped down on the floor to lean against its base.

”Ana and I had our uh...y’know, you remember Graham saying we were gonna be tested? We got tested and, well, we passed.”

Vera exhaled, that was half of it at least.

“I had absolutely no doubt.”

Vera smiled, proud, happy, but she wasn’t done. ”So...I think I want to do it.”

“What’s stopping you from doing it?”

The acceptance was a relief. Vera wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but the fact that Stein didn’t lead with “don’t” helped to settle her.

”I dunno, a lot, I guess. Nothing. It’s my choice, Graham says, Lof says, everyone says. That’s supposed to be a good thing, right? It’s good to choose, right?”

“I wouldn’t know, personally. I didn’t... get many options when I was younger. I suppose Percy and some others would think choice is good, but they might think their choice is yours and try to tell you what to do. But if Graham says it is your choice, it is your choice. He doesn’t seem the type to lie as far as I can tell.”

Vera nodded. ”I know. I think I trust Graham, Ana doesn’t like him but I understand. I trust Lizzy too, I know she wouldn’t force it either way, and Percy...I dunno, I don’t think he’d bother, he’s got enough to worry about. I feel bad for him y’know? I…”

She stopped, giggled quietly. ”Sorry, I didn’t mean to come here and talk your ear off.”

“Oh, I think you did. But no, I don’t mind if it’s you.” Stein commented as she continued her exercises in the rafters, simultaneously holding conversation as she did so.

The younger girl’s grin split wider, she looked to the ground and let her laugh spill out louder. ”That’s really cool, y’know, how you do that. I dunno, you’re really cool, you earned being cool, does that make sense? Maybe not.”

“We’re equals. It has nothing to do with being ‘cool’. There is no reason I should talk down to you like Moore does.”

”I guess you’re right. Moore... Percy’s a dad though, I think I can understand where he’s coming from.”

“I don’t. He uses that as an excuse.” Stein’s brows narrowed if Vera could see them, her tone darkening for a moment. “Just like all fathers, he’s manipulative and thinks his child is his slave; as if it is his right.”

The venom in Stein’s comment caused Vera to pause for a moment, smile fading. Although she nodded sympathetically she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe Stein’s words.

”I get it, yeah. Not all dad’s are good people, s’not a free ticket or anything. I dunno if Ana’s a slave though, he doesn’t hurt her, doesn’t call her names, doesn’t...I don’t think he’s really a bad person, I think he’s just scared. I think everyone here gets a little scared, even Graham. Heck, even I’m scared sometimes, if you can believe it,” She smiled, trying to bring the lightness back to her voice.

“True. There are times where I can… relate.”

”A’course ya can, silly, we’re people. That’s the great thing about it, we can all sorta get what we’re feeling. Might take some time, some practice, but it’s there.”

“So, what are you going to do about you compatibility? Are you going to Graham first? or Jackspar?”

Vera ran a hand under her hat and through her hair. That was the tough question. A bit guiltily she thought she might not tell Lizzy until she was stepping into an NC, but she knew she couldn’t get away with that, and wasn’t what she’d actually want to do anyway.

”Guess I’d go to Lizzy first. I’m kinda spooked, I know she won’t stop me but I...guess maybe that’s what’s got me. I think what I want is just, for someone to tell me it’s okay to do this, okay to want this, even if I know it’s not.”

Vera slumped back, pulling her knees in close and resting her chin atop them. ”I know it’s dumb, I shouldn’t need that, I’m old enough to be able to stand on my own two feet.”

“You want Jackspar’s respect and approval.”

”Yours wouldn’t hurt?” she asked, soft.

“Heh. You don't have to worry about that; you’ve always had my respect and approval. You might be different from me… in a lot of ways, but even during my first day here at New Anchorage I gave you that.”

Vera smiled again, a warmer, tamer kind. Her thoughts were still heavy, but it would be a bitter lie to say Stein’s words weren’t giving her a good lift. ”What do you think the surgery’ll be like?”

“The greatest pain you will ever feel in your life. You’re older than I was when I had mine so you will undoubtedly be more resilient, stronger, more capable.”

Stein took a heavy breath before removing herself from the rafters and making it back down to the floor; gripping her hair before drawing it back into a pair of twin tail’s which she’d clip with a metal band. “It’s an experience.”

”When you did it, did you cry?”

“I did. I cried a lot— it was the second worst experience of my life even with the stims that dulled the pain. I thought I was going to die right there on the table. I was nine years old, only a little older than Ana when they rended the metal into my back. It was not pleasant, but I persevered. I believe you will be no different, but there is the chance that it could turn fatal. I know you say you are ready, that you want it; but do you want to take the risk that your last breath could be on the table?” Stein replied matter-of-factly before grabbing a container of water on the countertop in her room.

Second worst. Vera might have asked about it, she knew she should have, but as Stein went on she found herself more focused on the present grimness. “Yes” and “No” seemed too forward, too inadequate, it was her life after all, and if it could end on that table like Stein said, shouldn’t she put more thought into it?

She looked up at Stein, bit her lip, but kept her smile. ”S’weird, right? Think of all the pilots in the world, the ones you meet, n’fight, n’kill, all of’em had the same surgery. Prolly all of’em cried. S’weird...right?”

“We all enter and leave the world in the same way.” Stein commented as she took a drink of the water inside the cannister. “But as for the surgery. I didn’t have a choice, but I wouldn’t have taken any other option. I was born compatible and I found a talent in it that I didn’t have for anything else. Some people would say it was “destiny” or I was a “prodigy” but it was just how my genetics lined up. You said you wanted it, right?”

Stein turned from Vera and showed her back, her free hand motioning to her spine— the circular indents visibly apparent in the blonde-haired girl’s back up to her base of the neck. “This is nothing if you want it. This is just a small obstacle.”

Vera touched the back of her own neck, tracing the vertebrae where she saw Stein’s implants were. It gave her an unsettling pit in her stomach to admit she didn’t just want it, she needed it. She saw a life in those little metal additions, saw an opportunity she couldn’t afford to miss.

”Dunno if they’ll look as pretty on me,” she said. ”But guess I won’t know if I don’t try.”

Stein turned back to Vera, putting a hand on her shoulder. “There is no question for me that you will be able handle it.”

Vera set her hand on top of Stein’s, it felt warm, but maybe that was just her nerves. She nodded, then got up to her feet and let the older girl’s hand go. ”You’re a good person, Stein. Everything that’s happened to you, you’re you now and I’m glad you’re here.”

“As strong as stone.” Stein replied, reflecting on something from her past.

”S’good to be strong, but s’also good to have nice friends. If I only ever get the one, I think I’d still be happy.”

“You’d be my first in a long time. So don’t die on the table, okay?”

Vera let herself giggle, she couldn’t quite help it. ”I’ll definitely try.”

“I didn’t say anything about trying.” Stein smirked.

Suppressing the smile as best she could, which was admittedly poor, Vera stood up straight in salute. ”Ma’am, yes ma’am.”

Stein reached out and adjusted Vera’s arm into a proper salute, restraining her urge to fall into a more emotive action. “I’d go talk to Jackspar then. Good luck.”

Vera adjusted her hat, nodding happily, and scurried out of the room.

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Problem after problem. Issue after issue.

That was what the last five days had been for Michael Graham— and he wasn’t completely sure how to handle it. In the past three plus decades of work as a NC pilot, commander, and soldier he had never seen such a clusterfuck. In the last ten days, all of the traumatic ambushes and bloody feuds looked favorable compared to the prospect of New Anchorage and Graham was afraid it was only the beginning of a even larger problem; especially if his reports bore any reliability. It all felt too surreal that this tiny outfit in the middle of Alaska was this much of a epicenter of trouble, like he had walked into some sort of harrowing nightmare. He had been a commander for over a decade and he knew how to run facilities without error and he definitely didn’t inspire treason or disloyalty; but then again he had been used to dealing with subsidiary corporations and not independents.

Graham looked down at his glass of brown liquor before downing it.

This is nothing.

The last ten or so days may have been rough, but they were nothing he couldn’t adjust for despite two blatant resignations from Jan Van Gent and Penny Maverick— resignations that he had to deal with after Alexander Sky’s apparent breakdown and attempt to depose him from New Anchorage. It wasn’t a new experience, in his life Graham had a gun pulled on him several times in several scenarios ranging from casual sittings to battlefield situations, but he didn’t expect it so suddenly and it had left a minor mark on his psyche. He wondered if more of those hired for New Anchorage were waiting for a chance. It was with that unease that Alvarez had suggested increasing precautions regarding it.

But despite all of those outcomes he wasn’t going to opt out like a bruised flower who needed everything to go to plan. Life never went according to plan.

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Things had been rather peculiar the past few days in New Anchorage, at least in Agatha’s opinion. Maybe it could have been passed off as the somberness resulting from Alexander Sky’s death, but the atmosphere had grown thick for reasons beyond simply the death of one pilot no matter the circumstances. There wasn’t a particular feel to it, not fear or anger, anticipation or apathy, just an aimless feeling that pervaded the air. Or maybe Agatha was going senile, who really knew at this point?

All the aged lioness knew was that she needed a change of pace from the usual routine, and if that meant skipping lunch and taking it easy on the physical labor till dinner filled her up again, she would. Lunch had become an awkward time of day anyway, given the notable absences among their numbers and the odd tension Stein exhibited when around the senior staff. If they hadn’t had so many pilots to begin with Agatha may have been concerned they were understaffed, but as it was they would be able to make due on missions with what they had.

Assuming things don’t decline further. Dangerous times, and we haven’t even fired a shot yet. She thought with a grim sense of humor, stalking the halls as she made her way to the office she had been pointedly ignoring up till now. Time to see the Commander. Wonder how far the brats come along.

The corridors leading towards Commander Graham’s office felt harrowing, even more so than the entire facility felt— the reality of the last time a pilot stepped into the office becoming all the more apparent to not just Agatha but anybody who stepped forward to speak with the commander. The incident with Alexander was still labeled under a “need to know” basis and it all felt so hush hush despite Alvarez going over the announcement that Alexander Sky had definitely attempted to kill Graham during their last fated meeting several days prior. Agatha was well aware of the history in being made here in these halls. It was amusing to contemplate the ghost stories that would emerge in relation to Graham’s office, especially if he had to shoot another pilot.

Hmm, I wonder if the ones that already left were the superstitious sort…

Thanks to the directions Stein provided shortly after their arrival, as well the map on all their datapads, it wasn’t difficult for Agatha to turn the corner onto the corridor where Graham’s office resided.

As she approached, it certainly did have an ominous appearance if looked at as a whole, but it wouldn’t slow down the aged lioness. With two armed guards leading into the checkpoint with another guard and of course an administrative assistant behind the monitor of a computer console.

With confident strides she approached the approached the officer at the desk.

”Permission to enter, sir? I feel I must inform you that I am unarmed, but feel free to search.” She said the last part with a touch of cheek amidst the serious nature of her words and spread her arms to be frisked if the need arose.

The nametag read ‘Abigail Kord’, as the sound of clattering keys continued as Agatha asked her question. “Another pilot this week? Have you come to resign as well? At this point the commander should appoint an officer to deal with resignations.”

“Resign? No. I’m only leaving in a body bag, if at all.”

“I see. Commander Graham is very busy, I hope you aren’t here to waste his time. I’ll let him know you need to see him.”

”Of course, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Finding they weren’t going to strip search she let her arms settled comfortably behind her back and waiting to be let in or sent away. She supposed Graham was a busy man and could have too much work for a social visit, but Agatha would just find another use for her time if he was unavailable. One can never have too much time on the firing range, after all.

As Agatha waited there were a few whispers over Kord’s communication device before she looked up from her desk and to the pilot, giving a subtle nod as she waved her in the direction of Graham’s office doors, which were also guarded by two additional soldiers. Finding her way cleared with little difficulty, Agatha gave a parting nod in return to the desk officer before progressing to the next checkpoint. With all this security it was a small wonder Alex got a gun into Graham’s office in the first place, or was the security in response to the incident itself? Well, she was being moved forward, so however this went down it was at the very least on the behest of Graham himself; otherwise she wouldn’t have gotten this far without her resignation papers in hand.

Hmm, does he remember our first and last encounter? Awful long time for a child in an iron giant to remember, but he seems to have proven his competence so far...though his hiring practises could use some work.” Though since it was these same practises that got her a job, it wasn’t in her interest to bring this up in conversation.

Stopping before the final two guards Agatha looked between them expectantly, wondering if they would be the ones to search her or if Graham would take her in directly.

Neither soldier seemed to stop her, though had she been specifically armed perhaps it would’ve been different. As the door slid open, Graham’s voice became apparent.

“Smith.” There was a pause. “I’m in the middle of a few things, but how can I help you?”

”Commander.” Agatha stepped inside and stood at ease before his desk. While Graham may have been rather militant in his practises, he hadn’t yet instituted such stringent guidelines into the pilot's behavior. It being a social call also left her in a bit of a lax mindset.

”I was actually looking to talk with you if your workload wasn’t too cumbersome; don’t worry, it’s not a matter of resignation or life and death.” The aged lioness amended, not trying to worry the man over losing another pilot. ”It’s more of a social call then anything else. Getting a measure of the man leading us moving forward into the future once we are past this testing phase.”

“Fourteen days in and you want a social call instead of lunch. That’s not something I was expecting, honestly. Especially considering the fact that every single pilot has only stepped into this pilot for anything but.”

”Truth be told I was going to save this for after the testing, but given recent events I’ve figured there isn’t much point waiting. Besides, if every Tom, Dick, and Jane came walking into your office to talk about their feelings, you wouldn’t be a very authoritative commander.” Her foot scuffed along the crimson streaks left ingrained into the cold steel of the floors. Agatha had to admit that it was a poignant reminder to everyone who entered the office who was in charge around these parts, and couldn’t help her lips curling upwards in approval. ”Heh, I never would have thought this is where we would wind up.”

“I never thought so, either. Not so bad for an orphan from Vegas, really.”

“Not bad at all, though I guess we were all just starry eyed kids before we got tested.”

Graham chuckled as he looked to Agatha as he put the datapad down on his desk. “Not all of us were idealistic.”

She allowed herself to grin a bit easier as Graham appeared to loosen up. Since she had not been outright cast out and Graham was participating, it was a given that at least she was going to be getting an interesting conversation out of this. Agatha herself wasn’t exactly idealistic growing up, but her childhood was so distant it bore no relevance now. Still, there was always a sense of wanderlust when she gazed upon the hulking Neural Combatants, reverence for walking Armageddon, that wasn’t something a child could really put into words. Looking on it now, Agatha thought she may have desired the liberty that wielding that kind of power would give her.

Well, regardless of ideals, you came out fine. Even have that bucket of bolts you call an NC still in operation. Heh, I swear I took its leg off, but looks like my memory must have failed me.”

“Tell that to the nerve damage in my right leg.” Graham grinned as it looked like the thought of talking about that period of his life was a much wanted distraction from what he had been dealing with.

The aged lioness was intimately familiar with the allure of reflecting on one’s past. Lingering regret mixed with the sweetness of nostalgia made for an intoxicating and enthralling mixture that was difficult to arouse oneself from. Yet this wasn’t inherently wrong to imbibe in, Agatha would be rather hypocritical if she thought so. This was exactly what the both of them needed, a brief reprieve from their current woes in the halls of times since past. ”I think your leg is fine if you aren’t dragging yourself around in a wheelchair. Me? I still feel like my ribs are going to implode from you nearly coring Charon! Suppose I should thank you for that, otherwise I wouldn’t have upped the armor.”

“Seems like a upgrade that didn’t get a lot of use. You retired not too long after.”

It spoke to how much Agatha was enjoying this moment that she didn’t seem off put by mention of her retirement. “You’d be surprised how effective a heavily armored NC in your yard can dissuade trouble from hitting your family. I’m sure it would have gotten plenty of use, but I’d rather have kept the kids safe until they were ready for it.” Agatha ran a hand through her faded hair and looked upwards, eyes seeming to be locked on an ephemeral image far away from New Anchorage. “Sir, you ever have any of your own?”

“Out of the ones I know about, there’s two of them here at New Anchorage.”

A short bark of laughter slipped out of Agatha at Graham’s phrasing. While she hadn’t known it at the time her future research into the boy who nearly killed her would reveal that he had a reputation as a ladies man. The both of them probably knew he had more than one bastard out there in the world. “Ah, must be nice having them close. Since I’m willing to be my first month’s salary none of the pilot’s here are yours, I’m going to say….engineering and security?”

“My daughter is in medical, educated in Denver-Vegas Pharmaceuticals. She’s done pretty well, but she has abandonment issues so she left when I left.” Graham paused, “As for my son, he’s in engineering. He was a pretty talented NC technican, has a bit of a wanderlust though. I honestly will be surprised if he’ll be staying on for more than a few months.”

”You must be proud of them. Sound like smart kids, they’ll do well for themselves even if your boy looks for his own place in the world. My girls are out there somewhere, wandering souls not likely to stick in one place too long. Still wouldn’t mind more frequent correspondence.”

“I could do some digging, see where they ended up; if you’d like.”

Agatha shook her head in the negative. As much as she loved her girls the aged lioness knew there was a time to let her girls go and have the time to find their own place in this violent world. And so can I now. Agatha crossed her arms across her chest to occupy her hands as her finger twitched in irritation from her own thoughts. ”I shouldn’t be nosy. They weren’t raised to be damsels, so they don’t need their mother coming to rescue them.”

Looking about the room, noting the bloodstain and the rather stringent decorating style that were presented here. Everything bore a degree of theatre to it, an image he desired to present to the world, or in this case New Anchorage. The rigidity of military doctrine, or the latest monument to his power in the splatter of a mad pilot’s life fluid on the floor. Agatha understood that these were important to project to maintain his authority, but a question lingered.

”If you don’t mind me asking, but why did you take this position?”

Graham’s smirk dropped and he averted his eyes for a moment, taken back by the question.

“What do you mean? It’s a good position.”

”It is, but it’s also a heavy load. Takes you from behind the wheel of your NC but it isn’t any safer.”

“I haven’t been behind the ‘wheel’ of my NC in a decade. So that’s not a change. I’m also not concerned about safety.”

Agatha snorted mirthlessly, foot tapping the floor. ”Clearly. So I take it you do this for the love of the job, or is retirement not your style?”

“I have my reasons.”

It wasn’t in Agatha’s imagination that Graham was done with this line of conversation. Agatha hadn’t expected to get anything truly profound or a closely held secret out of her former adversary. She had gotten more than enough to slake her curiosity and they had been enjoying themselves for a time. ”Heh, don’t we all?” The aged lioness chuckled disarmingly before finally deciding to slip into a chair across from Graham’s desk. Things had already been pushed to the brink of tension and needed to unwind with the one thing every parent enjoyed, bragging about their children. “So where did your daughter get her education?”

“One of the medical universities in Vegas. Pretty much most of o— my reserve earnings from my early career went into her education in the megacity.” Graham paused as his hand reached to the comlink connected to his right ear. He held up his hand. “I’d hate to cut this short, but I have a new pilot to integrate to the base that has just arrived.”

”Of course. Thank you for your time, sir. Perhaps we can talk more another time then.” Just as soon as she had gotten comfortable Agatha was back to her feet. Offering Graham a tidy salute, she turned and left the way she came. As curious as she was about the new pilot, they’d likely be introduced at the next meal anyway. The aged lioness had a lot to think about after their brief conversation, and there wasn’t much time left to make it back to the cafeteria and eat.

---

---

---

---

The nurse had been in the ICU room for the past half hour giving Madison a full medical check to make ensure that she hadn’t suffered any adverse effects from being comatosed for such a long period of time. What started off as the usual health check on her body eventually turned into what felt like a full mechanical tune-up when the datatool was connected to her arm. Once connected, the nurse began to go through all the various system settings, as each finger began to operate and twitch on it’s own giving a very subtle electrical jolt to Madison herself.

While checking on the arm’s performance the nurse spoke to her in a calm, collected voice as she both shifted her view from the information screen to the injured girl herself. “Just a little bit longer, Madison, and we can dismiss you for some light duty work. However I’m afraid that we can’t allow you to sync up with any NCs in your current state as your body may experience a possible prolapse back into your previous coma.”

“Not to mention, there is the fact that there is no way she is ready to synchronise with the Mad-e at her current physical, mental, and emotional state. No, no, no. Not ready. We do not just put girls in machines when they wake up, no.” The voice of Dr. Herbert Bonheur was blatant as the brown-haired doctor scurried from the doorway into the room with a few papers in his hand.

“Nurse, have the nanomachines been flushed from the system? And are the stims correlating well with Ms. Cole’s system? We cannot risk an imbalance…. given her mental history. That would be bad.”

Madison remained silent during both the bedside test and the speech that she was somehow supposed to understand. She tried to remember back to what happened, recalling that her last actions involved her NC attacking a Volkov Tank at close range… and then—



Madison’s eyes started to water and her teeth chattered as she visualised the explosion her NC endured. The fire and the metal soaring past her body, a searing sensation in her left eye as her right arm was pierced with rusty, oil-covered shards of metal. The medical machines that were still connected to the bedridden girl fluctuated for a brief moment when her heart rate spiked but as the nurse looked at monitors noticing the rise, she dismissed it when Madison’s vitals returned to back to a normal level.

“The nanomachines have been flushed, and the new stims have not caused issue with Ms. Cole, Dr. Bonheur.”

“Excellent. It is good that you are not incompetent. Had to throw away the last nurse I had. She forgot to apply the correct stims… very bad. Wham! Dead patient.”

“Why are so many people in here?” a soft, familiar voice asked, “Is something up?”

Doctor Bonheur turned his head, “Gah! Moore, you know it is incongruous to show up as you please! This isn’t a food dispenser, this is a medical facility.”

The redhead pilot backed out of the room - he wasn’t but a couple steps inside anyway. He kept his voice quiet as he tried to explain himself, “I thought it was alright, the doors were open. Sorry. I-I was just checking on Madison. Didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“Visiting hours are not— wait, wait… oh I see. Actually, Ms. Cole might be relieved for a familiar face after waking from her neural comatose…heh. Don’t just stand there, come in.”

Percy stepped back inside, walking past the doctor to Madison. He smiled at her for a moment as he saw her finally awake before speaking softly, “Hey. How’re you feeling?”

In a zombie like state Madison turned to the familiar face of Percy, giving a slight smile and trying desperately to speak in her weakened state, but all that came out was the soft whisper of, “Hey Freckles?”

Percy couldn’t keep himself from snorting in laughter, “Yes. It’s Freckles. Good to see you still have your sense of humor.” As he sat in the chair beside the bed, he watched as Madison gripped the green dinosaur on her free arm. Giving as much effort as she could, she began mouthing the names of those that she could remember.

“Ana?”

“Yeah, she’s here. Not with me at the moment, she’s in our shared room. She’s on base with me now. She’s wanted to see you, but.. I..” he cleared his throat, he wasn’t sure what got caught in it, “You know. I didn’t really want her to see you like this.”

“Joe?”

“Pale as ever. Still a brainiac... I think he’s working on some kind of sound cannon..? I didn’t ask about it.”

She smiled. The sound of sweet music was something she was looking forward to hearing again. The next name came with extra effort, giving a bit of sound to her raspy voice, “Duncan?”

Percy opened his mouth to answer, but he didn’t say anything. He fumbled with his hands for a few moments before finally going to answer. “He’s—”

“—Duncan left New Anchorage several weeks ago, was going on and on about how he ‘failed’ you. No word from him since.”

The pilot couldn’t keep himself from glaring at the doctor. “Seriously? Did you have to be so.. blunt?” He didn’t exactly sound angry, just shocked… Maybe a little angry. Just a little.

“Honesty is the best policy.” Bonheur smirked as he patted the other man on the shoulder. “Unless you prefer me lying to a patient? That’s unethical.”

“You didn’t have to be that forward about it.”

As Percy and Dr Bonheur continued their bickering, Madison glared up at the doctor “Liar! Duncan wouldn’t leave me!” she spoke in a whispering scream before looking over towards Percy for confirmation. She could see the saddened, sympathetic look in his expression. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he just couldn’t figure out what.

Dr. Bonheur sighed, also sympathetic as he shuffled his hands in his lab coat as he looked over at Madison, cringing as she screamed. “I’m sorry, Ms. Cole, but he did. If you want, I’m sure that the administrative office might be able to locate him for you, if that’s something you want to do. Don’t know what else to tell you beyond that.”

”Maybe he’ll come back,” Percy suggested, trying to keep it light-hearted. “I could go and ask if you want me to.”

Madison gave a stern shake of her head. As much as she cared about Duncan, the fact that he left her only meant she would be chasing after someone who had made the decision to remove themselves from her life. Even by the time she was to go to where he was last reported, there was no guarantee that he would still be there. For the time being she knew she had to focus on both herself and how she was going to get back to her usual, perky attitude.

Percy stood up from his chair hesitantly, then asked, “Is it alright if I come back to check on you later?” He had this guilty look on his face, like he didn’t really want to go. He probably had a good reason, though.

Madison nodded with a sad and sombre expression, watching as her acquaintance began to leave the room.

“Later today, then,” Percy mumbled, more to himself than anyone else. Judging by how he was frowning and looking even more guilty, her pouting must’ve worked. He turned around to give her a small wave, then continued his leave.

In the room of Joshua Ray, the man himself was writing in his log while in his bed, facing downwards with one of his legs kicked up and eating a bag of gummy snacks. Pinching up a bear, in his mind, its inter-racial family of worms, fellow bears, and other assorted gummy candies were already in tears as they watched him being ripped apart limb from limb above their heads. Like a starving animal, he went in to grab a few more to add to the tomb of gnarled bits and pieces of gummy flesh within his stomach. He wrote down his experiences related to trying to join this team of misfits.

With his own trusty pencil, 'So far I've only had the pleasure of getting to know one other guy, Joe Verona, in this place. He's a nice one I can tell, seems dependable.' He bit the eraser before continuing, the man of few chicken scratchings wondering what else to put. 'I've been trying to identify the others but the only one recognizable is some older lady, I already forgot her name like the dumbass I am. That guy I talked to on the train went berserk and tried to kill Graham Crackers, but since he's a total badass presumably, he shot first.' Happy for now, he decided to get up and find something to pass the time with.

He always wanted to try a certain game... Grabbing his knife, he slipped it into his pocket nice and snug, before going into the mess-hall, to try and make a new acquaintance with this little game.

---

---

It was lunch, and the NC pilots were called to eat once more, but at least one, Ray, was looking to do something else aside from that. He decided to randomly select one of the pilots who were walking in and sit next to them and squawk at them for a bit, get to know them. It’s been two weeks, might as well, right?

He decided to sit down with an icier looking girl, the type he’d recognize from his endless stories as the one that needed a bit of careful defrosting. Of course, that was just an assumption, but those were still useful. Plopping down at a table in the corner with her, he decided to get the obvious finished with immediately.

Opening with a ”Hi there, I’m, y’know.. Joshua Ray. Nice to meet you?” he then thought sarcastically, Starting out smooth as butter as usual, Ray., before he smiled a friendly grin, until he resumed his standard facial expression of mild interest.

She didn’t turn to him until he’d actually spoken, and even then it was from the side up to his last word. Icy had been an accurate observation, for sure, and when she did face him, he didn’t receive a smile in return.

From the past days, it might have been expected that at this point, a younger, peppier voice would chime in to make the proper introductions, however a passing glance showed that the young woman was, in fact, alone.

”Hello,” her voice was a dead match, cold, official, mechanical. ”Is something the matter?”

”Well, yeah, I was just wondering if you wouldn’t mind talking and, you know, goofing around a little to get to know each other. I’ve never been one for big teams but, y’know, it’s a good idea to sorta… know the other people you’re working with, right?” He went to grab something from his pocket, taking a bit and continuing to speak. ”Wanna play a game? I think it’s a traditional game for tough people like us, soldiers and stuff?” Eventually, he got out a knife, blade covered by a scabbard.

”Five Finger Fillet? Safe or Ballsy?”

Her eyes narrowed, swapping from him to the knife, then back to him. Her stature went rigid, but it seemed more a point of form than any true apprehension. ”You want to cut your fingers off,” a question, even if it sounded more like a statement.

”That’s why I asked ‘Safe or Ballsy?’ Scabbard on or off?” He had a short little laugh before admitting ”I usually play it safe. I’m not too brave at all.”. He put the knife on the table between them before asking again, ”Interested or not? Might be fun.” The knife had the man’s initials, JR, and apparently a little name. ‘Chance the knife’ was on the other side of the handle.

For a few moments the young woman was quiet, studying the knife now entirely. At length she offered a brief nod, and pushed it back to him. ”Leave it on, dismembering yourself now would be unwise.”

With that she turned full and sat watching, waiting for a demonstration. Perhaps she’d never actually played the game.

Joshua grabbed the ‘safe’ knife and put his left hand down on the table, spreading his fingers apart widely, and twirling the blade in his right hand until it pointed downwards. ”Never played, right? I’ve been told that you go something like this...”, Ray stabbed the knife sideways in between each finger, narrowly missing each time until a second or two later he ‘cut’ his own thumb on his second go around. He went to check on his finger reflexively before handing it over, ”As fast as possible. Poke your hand, pass it.”

””Uhh… huh.. Usually there’s a bet or something involved. And a ‘first one to stab themselves thrice loses’ and stuff. At least where I come from.”

”So it’s gambling,” she said, flat but not accusatory. She took the offered knife and weighed it in her hand, tested the scabbard point against her palm, and, apparently satisfied, splayed her fingers out on the table as he had done.

Her pacing was steady, slow at first and gradual, but her accuracy was most noteworthy. On the fourth pass she nicked the edge beneath her pinky, and let a small “hm” rumble her throat, before handing the knife back over.

”It’s not a bad blade.”

”You got that right.” He agreed as he went to grab it. Before resuming himself, he inquired, ”Care for the story behind it?”. He then started quickly, going at a somewhat lethargic pace himself and with comparable accuracy, but that probably came from a bit more experience with stupid games such as this instead of him being good with a knife. Or was he good with a knife? Either way, he did screw up right as he reached the fifth pass. He slid the knife over.

”It’s a knife. It doesn’t have a story,” she said as she hovered it over her hand once again, ”Though I assume then that you have a story, involving the knife.”

This time she started with a swifter pace, pinpointing between each finger, her figure hunching slightly as intense eyes focused. It was the eighth pass this time before she tweaked the blade at an odd angle and caught it sideways between her middle and ring finger.

She set it down for him. ”I’m not interested in that either. If we’re sharing information, I’d more like to know how often you use knives, if you do at all, for more than simple recreation.”

”I used them often enough while I was still figuring out my NC, y’know the Apollo? Big red one. I actually got this knife in an accidental bar brawl. I was just present for one, didn’t participate, but I picked it up on the way out of dodge. Guy’s probably still looking for it.” He had a shit-eating grin on his face, proud of his act of extremely mild thievery.

”I haven’t killed anything with it yet, and for that I’m pretty glad I guess.” He went to continue the game, going quicker this time and ‘nicking’ himself on his left hand’s middle finger in the eighth pass too.

”I believe that’s three,” she stated. ”In lieu of a wager, I’d rather know why you’re here.”

Joshua, with a hint of sarcasm, simply said ”Because the demonstration sure counts.”, before putting his hand to his chin. Looking to the side and resting his head on his now-free left hand, he thought about what he could say for a bit.

With another grin fit for some sort of trickster, he dryly asked ”Did you mean that theologically, physically, or historically?” while smirking.

Once again she did not share his levity, cold gaze stern, lips pulled taut. ”Whichever convinces me why I should trust you, when we’ve already had mutiny, drop-outs, and traitors.”

”Physically, I’m here cause I used my legs to get on a train. Theologically, there’s hundreds of possibilities. Fate? Deus Vult? Because an angel told me too? Historically? Because some guy made giant robots, I pilot one, and I need money I can get from here because that Graham fellow needs pilots.” He then put his knife in his pocket. ”Really, though, I’m just here for a combo of things. Money, for one, and because Graham seems decent compared to the alternatives.” Joshua shrugged his shoulders and pointed to himself, then to Elizabeth. ”Us NC pilots are sometimes just tools, so I’m happy I get to choose who gets to use this tool too. Feels pretty nice, yeah? Graham seems like he’ll treat me decent. Besides, the other pilots seem cool so far anyway. Can’t stay a lone wolf forever, and this is a nice pack, I guess.”, Joshua smiled.

She clicked her tongue in her mouth, sat up straight, and subtly glanced around the room. Her voice went lower, not in a whisper, but grave nonetheless. ”You don’t choose your home. Our job is to protect New Anchorage, even if that means protecting it from people who were also meant to. I trust you understand?”

Joshua had a certain look in his eye. He started to answer, ”Ah, I think I know what you mean. I can be underhanded, but I’m pretty sure neither of us will have to worry about that.”, before he got up from his chair and went to actually get some grub. ”Besides, as I said, I’m not that ballsy anyway.”.

”As I hear, the most dangerous ones rarely are,” she said, and returned to her own meal.

Before moving away from the table, he shrugged once more, in agreement. ”I suppose.”

He lifted his left hand, moving his fingers. ”After all, I’m a lefty.”

---

Percy knew he was late for the lunch call, but he did not care the slightest bit.. Nope. Not a bit. Not the teeniest little bit..

He let himself groan inwardly. He did care, because he refused to let his kid go hungry because of his laziness, plus messing up a near-spotless attendance record just felt so wrong. At the time time, however, he really didn’t want to walk all the way to his room to get Ana, walk to the mess hall for lunch, then walk all the way back to escort Ana through the halls. He didn’t necessarily feel entitled to some laziness - especially if his kid was going to suffer, but at the same time he was sooo definitely entitled to some laziness. But he wouldn’t let his kid go hungry.. He groaned outwardly and bucked up. He could cope with a little more walking and he knew it. Or, more accurately, it’s been drilled into his head by Reb so then he would know it.

On the subject of Miss Marek, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he was getting special attention from her. A feeling in his gut said that it’d be kind of wrong if he was getting special attention - Joe probably needed the one-on-one time more than Percy did - but something a bit lower was telling him to just go with it, that it was nice to get some special treatment. It’s hard to disagree with that, especially when the person giving him extra attention was so attractive. Maybe he was a sucker for a woman in uniform, or maybe it was how she demanded him to work harder, or maybe it was a little more cliche, like how inviting her dark brown eyes were, or even that she’s just pleasant to talk to away from the training.. Either way, Rebecca made all this feel less like a damn drag..

Then Percy walked into his bedroom door.

He took a step back, scolding himself for getting that involved with his own thoughts as the door slid open. Ana spoke as soon as Percy made eye contact with her, “Do you need your glasses, Dad?"

“No,” Percy said, a blush forming on his face, “I’m just.. thinking, that’s all.”

“About?”

“Things that you shouldn’t worry about.”

“If it's making you walk into things, surely it's very-”

Percy simply gave her the look that his parents gave him when he was talking too much before changing subject, “Are you hungry?”

Ana nodded, quickly putting up her toys and grabbing Percy’s hand to walk with him to the mess hall. The pilot checked his datapad for the time, having to flick through a few other pages until he actually got to the clock - 12:27. He grimaced, looking down at his daughter to tell her they better get going before they totally miss out on lunch, but she spoke first

“Can I see your datapad?"

“Day-ta pad,” Percy corrected. Before he could continue, Ana looked at him funny.

“What?”

“It’s not day-ta,” Ana said, “It’s dat-uh.”

Percy grinned as he faced forward to watch where he was walking. She walked straight into this one, and he was so glad he didn't miss this opportunity like he had so many others. He kept his voice casual, but there was no hiding the smile on his face. “Yeah. You know, I guess technically you’re right about that.”

Ana looked confused again, before she noticed the shit-eating grin on her father's face. “Oh no," Ana put on her best pouty face in the hopes it'll stop what's about to happen. "Dad, don’t-”

Percy was unfazed. He's not going to let this joke rot in his brain forever. This is the perfect time for it. He continued with a sly smile, “-Since it’s mine, it could be called-”

“-Dad, please-” Ana begged, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

Percy could barely contain himself - his voice was lowered, trying desperately not to laugh as he delivered the punchline in a whisper just audible enough for Ana to hear, “-A da-dapad.”

---

---

---

---

The ride from Seattle to New Anchorage was one of the shorter expeditions that Kathryn Dradht had done in her thirteen years of living life, as admittedly short her experiences behind the wheel of a mech had been. But no matter the experience of a rival pilot she always turned heads— though it wasn’t hard to understand why, what with her being as young and impetuous as she was. But it was that impetuousness that got her through the day and eventually earned her respect on the field. Deep within her stomach she knew that New Anchorage would be no different and that playing with others would just be something she’d get used to dealing with and as long as they didn’t cross her there wouldn’t be any problems; people who tried to get on her bad side didn’t end up too well.

With a duffel bag slugged over her shoulder, Ryn looked around the station for the commander of the outfit that had taken her on; her foot tapping impatiently on the concrete floor as her free hand straightened the collar of her brown synthetic mesh jacket. The fact that the guy hiring her was not on time and she was almost had a sort of amusing irony to Ryn— her body resting against a support pillar as her right hand dug into her jacket pockets to retrieve an old world coin that she began playing with to bide her time.

A few minutes later the clattering of footsteps moving toward her direction caught her ear and a snarky comment left her lips in a mutter.

“About damn time.”

The youthful pilot looked up at the man approaching— he definitely looked in charge based on her observations; though she wasn’t sure what kind of person he was going to turn out to be. She had employers who barked at her, gave her the most minute of instructions, treated her like a braggart child, and condescended her. What sort of man was this one going to turn out to be? She had no interest in doing superfluous research on this “Graham” fellow or even New Anchorage; she was here to do the same thing she did independently.

“Kathryn Dradht, I presume.”

She shook her head as he used her formal name.

“Ryn. You the employer?”

He raised a brow. “I wouldn’t be talking to you otherwise, are you ready to get started?”

“Suppose I am.”

“Good. Follow me.”

Generally this was around the time the employer asked her if she had any questions— and given her new “Commander” and the way he walked, she was surprised that hadn’t come up yet. Either he was in a rush, didn’t care, or there was a lot of other issues on his mind that he felt it’d be pointless to ask; or maybe a combination of all of supposed options. Either way, it was not like Ryn was teeming with questions and curiosity. As far as she was concerned— if you’ve seen one mech base you’ve seen them all.

“You have a few weeks to pass all the required examinations and tests— but given your track record I don’t doubt you’ll handle it well. I’ll be having my administrative aid wire you the essential information within the hour to your datatool. I apologize that I cannot give you a more in-depth integration personally beyond throwing you to the cafeteria— but I’m sorting out a lot of issues and my time is becoming more diminutive by the second.”

“As long as I know where I’m sleeping and when food is done, I’m pretty good.”

“We’re only a few minutes into the NC pilots lunch term, so you’re in luck there. But yes, that will all be sorted within the hour.”

Ryn nodded as she kept flipping the coin in her hand as they walked through corridor after corridor until the door opened to the Mess Hall— or what she assumed was a mess hall considering she had never been acquainted one in her entire life. Ryn nodded as she kept flipping the coin in her hand as they walked through corridor after corridor until the door opened to the Mess Hall— or what she assumed was a mess hall considering she had never been acquainted one in her entire life. As Graham moved forward ready to introduce her to her fellow pilots she ran through a quick look of the setup and who exactly the people she was going to be working with looked like.

“Apologies to interrupt your lunch— but given Van Gent and other losses I have decided to take on an available contract with another pilot. I’m sure you’ll warm up to her and get her settled here at New Anchorage.” Graham turned to Ryn. “This is Ryn Dradht. The pilot of The Phantasm.”

Ryn made a casual wave.

“Now, if you excuse me… I have another meeting I’m late for, so please get her sorted. Thank you.”

Ryn caught the coin she had tossed in the air with her right hand as she looked around. “Yo.”

---

The red-headed pilot could only stare in disbelief at Graham as he started out. Graham couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t have been. Percy’s gaze then settled on the young orange-haired girl, still not wanting to believe what he was seeing. What was this guy thinking? Was the child aware of how much danger she was in? How old was she exactly? She only looked about Vera’s age, so where were this child’s parents? Would this be the first time she’s done this? It didn’t look like it, but she might not have been adequately informed about how dangerous being a pilot is. There were so many awful questions buzzing in his head that he almost felt nauseous. Kids really shouldn’t be in this kind of environment as far as he was concerned, but was he really one to talk? His daughter was right next to him...

“Dad?”

“No,” Percy said, starting to stand up, trying to keep Graham in his sights. He knew that his daughter more than likely wanted to meet Ryn, but he was wary of that for the simple reason he couldn’t supervise it.

Percy forced himself to breathe, speaking in a less stern tone, “Just stay there, okay?” He’d glance over to her, but he didn’t want to lose sight of his commander.

Percy had to do something - every fiber of his being was screaming at him to do something. Even if Graham only had Ana run through the test and insisted that she wasn’t going to be forced into anything, if Graham was willing to hire a child pilot - even thinking those words doesn’t sit right with him - who’s to say that he won’t find some reason to go back on his word?

He didn’t even realize he was so worked up until he caught up to the man in uniform.

“Graham.”

Graham groaned as Percy nearly chased him down, the pacing of the footsteps fairly obvious as the two stopped in the main corridor leading away from the Mess Hall. The impatience and disinterest in dealing with one of his pilots when he specifically said he was busy was obvious but nonetheless he composed himself before turning around to answer Percy.

“Moore. I’ve got a meeting but if you need me to, I can spare you a few minutes. Can we make this productive and quick?”

Percy forced himself to stand at attention like he had been told to during training, looking slightly embarrassed at his outburst. But he felt that he was justified in having it. Even if he felt justified, he didn’t want a repeat of two weeks ago. Percy dared having the thought that maybe he’d be able to actually react, given the circumstances, but at the same time, he wanted this to be concise and to the point just as much as Graham did. He gave himself another moment to think about how he was going to tackle the issue in his head, unaware of how his position slacked as he spoke.

“It’s, uh.. It’s just that Ryn looks awfully young, sir. Is she old enough to be doing this?”

Graham took a light breath, a half-chuckle leaving his breath. “That’s your concern? Oh, good.”

“Why would that not concern me? The kid looks twelve!”

“I believe she’s recently turned thirteen. Anyway, Ryn Dradht has been an independent pilot for three-to-four years now, she’s got the experience and interest in helping us so we hired her. She’s got a bit of a reputation but by all accords she’d probably tell you that she is very much old enough to do this.”

“The fact she’s thirteen doesn’t make it any better,” Percy spat. The face he made after the comment made him realize that he might’ve stepped a little out of line, but as far as he was concerned he wasn’t backing down now.

“The world is what the world is, Moore. What do you want me to tell you? That girl is plenty experienced for the job here and has the nerve to prove it. She approached us with the contract and she signed on the proverbial dotted line.”

“She approached you? No other adults involved?” Percy looked absolutely bewildered. Before Graham could reply, Percy continued, “Where are her parents? I might have to talk to them and make sure they know-”

Graham nodded, “She sent us a digital inquiry a week ago— she was worried she missed our recruitment drive. As for her parents? They’ve been deceased or gone from her life for awhile now, but I imagine if you want the big details on that you’d have to talk to her about it, presuming she’s willing to share.”

The pilot looked like he had so much more to say - some things rude, some things a little more productive, but either way, he couldn’t find his voice to actually ask what was on his mind. It wasn’t like his worldview was shattered or anything extreme like that, it was simply concerning that Graham even thought that was a good idea. Ryn might not be at the level of emotional development needed , and doing something filled with so much tragedy and death at thirteen would definitely stunt her, if it didn’t already. However, Graham did say that she had been doing this for four years…

“She was doing this since she was nine?” Percy spoke a bit slowly, like he didn’t even want to ask that. The thought made his head spin. “She was nine?”

“Yeah, I’ve been doing it since I was nine. You have a problem with that?”

The voice cut from behind Percy’s shoulder, evidently Ryn’s curiosity had gotten the better of her and followed Percy. He jumped and turned to see the shorter girl looking at him with narrowed brows, obviously looking displeased by the comments she heard.

“No- we-well, yes,” Percy stuttered, trying to keep his tone the same. He didn’t expect to be talking to her and Graham at the same time, “Yes, I do, but- It’s not your fault, of course, but-”

“I mean, it is my fault considering I sort of asked for it. But I guess you wouldn't know, that since you think you know me after less than a minute of seeing me. Tch, who the fuck do you think you are?” She mouthed, her tone oozing in confidence and profane attitude; an attitude that caused Graham to chuckle.

“I’ll leave you two to it. I’m running late.” Graham commented before Percy could react, leaving the two pilots to their conversation.

Was it weird that Percy felt the slightest bit intimidated by a thirteen year old? Yes, but given everything, it didn’t really surprise him. He didn’t expect her to be so sarcastic. He addressed the first thing that came to mind, though, “No, I never said you asked for it, I- It’s concerning that-” He gave himself a second to he could actually gather his thoughts and quit stumbling over his words. Worry in his voice, he dared to ask, ”A-are you being watched by anyone? A, an uncle, or a family friend, or-”

She laughed point blank. “Ha! As if I need an ‘adult’ to watch me. I watch myself, thanks. I don’t need a stuttering know-it-all to know what to do. Shouldn’t you be minding your own business, anyway?”

“It didn’t seem right that a child's being put in this situation,” Percy tried to explain, “You should be in school still, learning.. Whatever it is they’re teaching now!”

“And who are you to decide what is right or what I should be learning? Geeze, I didn’t realize I’d see the moral high ground from a pilot who kills other people for a living.” Ryn sighed as she looked to Graham for a moment, “What a hypocrite.”

“I haven’t killed anyone,” Percy said, “I’ve done the best I can to keep that from happening.”

The girl shook her head as she heard Percy’s comments. “A NC pilot who hasn’t killed ever? And is like fifty years old? What a loser.”

The redheaded pilot’s face actually flushed at that comment. He didn’t think he looked that old. Sure, it could just be her being a little turd child, but he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Ana’s always been very bluntly honest, so he thought maybe Ryn was doing the same. “I’m actually thirty-two, for your information.”

“Look, I don’t care if you are thirty thousand years old - I care that you’re coming at me with this bullshit like you know what’s best when you don’t. I know what is best for me; end of story. You aren’t my parent, guardian, friend, or boss, so how about you go off into the bathrooms over there and go cry like a little baby? 'Cause that’s all I hear when you speak now - baby noises. Wah. Wah. Now if you excuse me, Mr. Babyman, I’m going to go return to the mess and eat my first lunch. Later. Don’t drown in your tears.”

Percy had never wanted to spank a child, but there he was, wanting to discipline her with physical assault. He let himself exhale slowly, the look on his face saying everything. He wasn’t going to cry, he was just very, very angry. But he knew he was better than hitting a kid; he prided himself on not using physical discipline on Ana, and he wasn’t going to go and hit someone else’s kid. But if Ryn was his kid she would definitely be bent over his leg and spanked at least three times. At least. Who does she think she is talking down to someone who is much older? She literally had to look up at him for fuck’s sake!

All the more reason to keep her away from Ana. He thought to himself, going ahead and following a little ways behind Ryn so he could go back to his comparatively angelic little girl and finish his lunch, too.

---

The sound of scraping metal accompanied Vera as she dragged a chair out into the hall, echoing off of the metal walls. She knew lunch would be the best time for this, everyone would be gone to the cafeteria to eat, she could make all the noise she wanted. Still, every absurdly loud scratch sent a cringe up her spine, pulled her face into a wince, and she was glad when at last the chair was settled against the wall.

About ten feet up was the vent, one of the few that kept the corridor temperate. She made sure the chair was aligned properly beneath it, seat against the wall back facing out, then scurried back into the room. This time she came out not with a chair, but with the naked twin-sized mattress from her cot. It wasn’t too heavy, she found, but she had to waddle to keep it from sliding off of her back, and even then the end dragged against the floor. Oh well, at least it was quiet.

With some effort she managed to lay the narrow mattress against the chair, creating a sharp incline that led just under the vent. A sly, proud smile cut across her face, quickly chased by a giggle of excitement. There were likely easier ways to reach the vent, in fact there were better hiding places in general, but none of them were as fun to access.

”Alright, alright, you got this,” she mumbled, bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet. ”Easy peasy.”

Vera dashed forward onto the mattress, and suddenly every grumpy thought she’d ever had about how stiff it was turned to praise. It held her up well, yielding enough for confident footholds but not enough to cave thanks to the support from the chair. At one half of the moment she had reached the top, linking her fingers into the thick flutes of the vent just as the mattress tilted in beneath her, and at the other, she was practically dangling on the wall.

Frantically she grabbed a small book tucked to the waistline of her pants. Thin enough to fit into the vent shaft, with a string tied to it that was kept bundled up beneath the cover, with only a few inches left to hang out in the open. Inconspicuous, out of the way, at least that was the hope. She slid it in just as the mattress flopped away, and she had to rely solely on the strength of her arms.

That didn’t last long.

”Oh god—“ she dropped, sliding down the wall, and, much to her relief, flat onto the mattress with an “oof”, and another excited round of laughter.

From there it was only a matter of putting everything away, a process she made sure to be quieter about now that it was closer to the end of lunch. Vera was sure she wouldn’t need to grab the little journal for at least a couple weeks. Whenever the operation would be.

She paused fitting the mattress back onto the bed, and felt a flutter in her stomach, like the kind she’d feel before going to get a shot. Over time she’d come to realize that the worst part was the waiting, the pacing around at home, the sitting in a waiting room, and that the actual deal was over in a moment. The surgery would be different, now she was certain all of the anxiety was justified, that there would be no quick in and out. She kept hearing Stein’s descriptions in her head, before she went to sleep, when she woke up.

But louder than all of that she remembered: ”This is nothing if you want it.” And that was enough to keep her fears in check.

Everything done, she locked up the room and started off for the mess hall. It’d taken her a bit longer than she’d expected to hide the journal, but she figured there was just enough time to grab something small to nibble on.

That was of course before she actually arrived, and saw that not only did there seem to be enough time for a proper meal, but there was also someone new, someone young, though not quite as young as Ana. Maybe she and the new girl were the same age? That’d be nifty, she hadn’t known anyone her age growing up, but then, the Jackspar house wasn’t a very sociable one. Either way, she was grinning madly again, and scrambled into the cafeteria, stopping only long enough to give an enthusiastic wave to Ana and Percy on her way to the new girl.

”Heya!” she chimed, rearing up beside Ryn and rattling off more of her greeting. ”I’m Vera, it’s nice to meet you! You’ve got really pretty hair, y’know that? What’s your name?”

The orange-haired girl raised a brow with fork in hand as she looked towards Vera, her expression decidedly unimpressed at the moment. But Vera was confident she could change her mood.

“Ryn, and thanks. Your hair isn’t so bad either, though it’d be easier to tell without the... hat y’know.” A sly smirk pursed into the girl’s lips as she casually dove her fork down into the food on her plate, her eyes remaining on the blonde-haired girl who had sprung up the conversation.

So far so good, Vera figured, the girl was already smiling. She glanced up at her own forehead, having once again forgotten the hat was even there. Dang thing had become like a second layer of skin, so she supposed it was only natural, but even still Ryn had a point. Swiping it off, she gave her head a shake to let her hair down, laughing again.

”It’s cool to see another kid around, there’s only the two of us, and you now! What brings ya?”

Ryn grabbed a bite of the chopped meat on the fork before offering a response— twirling the now empty fork in-between her fingers she leaned back slightly as she appeared to think about it for a quick moment. “Same as everyone else, I guess. Credits. Giant Robots. Stuff. Sure isn’t being told I’m a ‘little bitty kid and should be doing my homework while the big adults do the heavy lifting’. Tch.”

Vera’s eyes went wide, her smile hovering on the edge of excitement. ”You’re a pilot?”

“Well, obviously. Aren’t you?”

”Ahuh!” Vera said, nodding only to falter. ”Uh...well, actually, no, not yet. I gotta do that surgery. But then yeah! Wow, that’s so cool, how long have you been one?

“Well, ‘round four years now.”

It took a minute for Vera to register what that meant, and part of her wanted to blurt out that Ryn started younger than even Stein had, but she managed to keep her cool. At least, in a way that meant she was practically bouncing in her seat. ”That’s so cool, you must be gettin’ really good!”

“Well, we have a saying in the indie circuit— get good or get dead; so I got good.”

”Oof, so grim!” Vera giggled. ”Guess even out there everyone’s super serious.”

“Sometimes. Wasn’t ‘xactly taken seriously at first.” She pointed with her hand toward Percy who was at the far end of the table, “’cuz you’re a kid oh my god where is your adult?! Fuckin’ morons. I am the adult! But guess who’s not awesome and who are obviously losers? Them.”

To say the sudden, biting turn Ryn took didn’t catch Vera off-guard would have been a lie. There definitely seemed to be more fire in the girl than just her hair, and while she couldn’t say she agreed with everything Ryn had said, she also couldn’t pretend like she understood it.

Nevertheless, Vera laughed it off. ”Who, Percy? Nah, he’s cool, he’s been here one of the longest! Everyone here is pretty cool, actually. Everyone left, anyway. We had some cool people here before too, but some of’em moved on.”

“Well, I had a talk with that loser outside and he totally thinks he’s hot shit and can tell me how to live my life, and let me tell you— he’s not. I’d like to shove my fist down his “I’m an adult” presumptuous babyhead. Nobody tells Ryn Dradht what to do but Ryn Dradht.”

Ryn seemed pretty confident in her distaste for Percy, which didn’t come as too much of a surprise. She wasn’t the first to dislike him, and thus far she wasn’t the worse either.

“Anyway, yeah that’s how it goes. People cash in and leave. I’ve been in tons of outfits and seen people cop out and whatever. Never had a real team though, so this is kinda new and stuff. Here’s hoping this will at least be a little fun.”

Vera was glad that Ryn carried the conversation on, more than willing to change the topic. ”I think it will be! Everything’s better with a few helping hands, y’know?”

She might have waited for a response, in fact Vera might have been perfectly content talking with the new girl for the rest of the lunch period. But she got a stark reminder of her own hunger in the way of an almost embarrassingly loud growling from her stomach. She looked down as though a sharp look might silence it, but ended up giggling to herself again.

”Boy, I really oughta grab something. Hey, if I don’t catcha later, I’m always around the dorms, or with Ana. Oh! You should meet her, she’s awesome, I bet you guys would get along great!”

Ryn shrugged. “Iunno. But yeah, we’ll chat later if you don’t sit back down here, I guess. Going to be seeing a lot of me around anyway.”

Vera grinned, hopping up off of the seat and starting for the line of food. ”Lookin’ forward to it! See ya!”

---

The pilots at New Anchorage were dropping like flies and in the last two weeks Tahlia had seen a fair few of them leave the compound, tail between their legs, whimpering that it was all too hard, all with the exception of one... The notorious Alexander Sky.

Even on day one she knew that he would be one that caused trouble; remembering how she had to beat some common sense into the boy in order to force him to obey his master. Alexander was born a slave to the Red Star and he believed that he could fight his way his way into freedom. In this world, however, freedom was represented by the simple piece of metal that was fired out of the barrel of a gun and there was something ironic in the knowledge that Sky was now deceased while attempting to follow his delusional dream. This is where Tahlia had taken full advantage of the opportunity.

"Easy!!! EASY!!!" Tahlia called out as she stood on top of her NC and guided the power cell into the Torso of the Spyder. For the past four days ever since Tahlia found out about the slave's death she had been instructing Thomas and Philip on how to carefully salvage a Red Star NC for replacement parts. The Power Cell was simply one piece that she had her eye on. "Will ya fucken look at that. She bloody fits! Haha! And it's tighter than a nun's nasty."

The cigarette was bought up to the mouth and rested between her lips as she applauded the effort of the team achieving something remarkable. For the Aussie this was Christmas all over again and it meant that she was one step closer to being back in the killing game.

"Tahlia, it's past twelve. We've got this covered if you wanted to go for some lunch," a voice from the crane cockpit yelled out towards the Pilot.

Thomas' words prompted Tahlia to pull out her Datapad and check the time, realising that he was correct and that she should have a break. "Fair enough" Tahlia replied as she made her way over to the hoist in order to let herself down from the top of the NC.


Tahlia wandered down the hallway in order to enter the Mess Hall, drawing the last few puffs of her cancer stick so that all that was left was the yellow filter. She was about to flick away the cigarette when she noticed an orange hair child pass through the entrance doors with Percy following behind him.

"Ey, ey, eyy!" she announced, holding up the back of her hand in order to stop the father in his tracks. It was probably the closest Tahlia had been to him seeing as how she made little effort to get to know the other pilots. "Who's the shrimp you're following like a creepy old man?"

Tahlia looked at Percy noting that her taunt was possibly adding to that annoyed expression, either that or he was already in that mood for some reason. It was something she had seen a few times before whenever his little one was causing mischief in the lunch room, giving him a reason to scold the child and tell her to behave. Whatever the case the scene that Tahlia witnessed didn't make sense to her and considering what had been happening lately, she wanted to make sure she knew exactly exactly what was going on and who any new people were.

Thump Thump Thump Thump

Jingo stared at the wall in front of him with an expression that portrayed nothing but a man deep in exercise. Beneath him foot met treadmill with tremendous force as he sprinted in place, earbuds jammed into his head blaring loud music. The days he had spent in New Anchorage were slowly stacking up on top of him, day and night were nonexistent in the subterranean military base, so natural his perception of time became all but gone as day after day stitched themselves into one, long string of waking up, shooting and running. As a result he grew more and more distanced from the crew, as monotony dugs its claws into him and made any kind of interaction with other people brief and dull.

Still staring blankly at the wall, track after track went by and sweat had completely soaked through his white shirt and made every crease and scar on his skin visible through damp fabric. A gentle tap on his shoulder brought him out of his trance like state, Jingo looked over his shoulder, still sprinting along. Rebecca Marek stood there, her arms crossed and the emotion in her eyes somewhere between concern and annoyance.

"Everyone's cleared out already, John.." she began, reaching over the safety rail and holding down a button that brought the treadmill's conveyor to a slow stop, "Yet you're still here, you'll be late for lunch." Jingo didn't speak, he simply looked down at his bare feet like a child being chastised for doing something naughty. He would have much rather spent the day on the treadmill, due to lack of willingness to talk to anyone but he wasn't going to let that make him disobey a superior, he may have been a bit lax when it came to following orders but if he respected someone, he tended to do as they asked. Throwing his towel over his shoulder, Jingo clicked his heels, gaining the attention of his metallic hound, making it promptly skitter over and follow at his heels. As Jingo left the room, Rebecca looked at him with an expression of mild disbelief.

" Strange one he is..."

---

Jingo looked up, eyes closed in relaxation, he had skipped lunch not in the mood to eat right after such an intense round of conditioning. Water rained down on him from the shower head mounted in the ceiling, plastering his hair to his forehead and filling up his mouth via the hole in his cheek. Skitters stood quietly by his side, any water bouncing off of Jingo wetting his armor sides. Jingo reached out, a soft moan escaping his throat as he stretched his sore muscles, he grasped a bar of soap and held it under the water for a moment, letting the dry exterior break down into slippery suds.

Bringing the bar of soap to his head, he rubbed perfumed bubbles into his hair until it was coated in a thick, white lather. Replacing the soap back into it's dish, he brought his right hand to his hay colored hair and began to work the suds into the coarse mat, rubbing his fingers into his scalp. As he washed, water dragged froth down his body, the black rubber sheet that was stapled taut against his torso glimmered in the frosty white light of the bathroom.

Skitters plodded around in the shower, his metal paws clinking against the wet concrete basin, he dropped his snout into the water and made sniffing motions at the soap. Jingo shifted the robotic dog slightly so it wouldn't get soap on it's camera.

"Now we don'ee wan' any soap on yer camera do we?" he chided, "Else you'll freak ou' again." the first time Skitters had joined Jingo in the shower he got soap on his camera lens, not being able to see, the robotic dog panicked, flailing in the slippery space and bringing Jingo down on top of him - Jingo reached behind him and applied lather against the bruise gently. "Now make yerself useful and play uz a track." Skitters padded out without being told twice, trailing wet paw prints as it rustled to Jingo's terminal. popping over the lip of the desk with the aid of his front legs, craning his neck forward he tapped the spacebar with his muzzle.

A loading icon spun around on the display, Skitters' head following it around and around. In the short time Jingo had been at the facility, he had plunged into the common folders on the system and dredging up music from long untouched files, and much to his surprise they were mostly tracks he enjoyed.

Jingo tapped his foot against the coarse concrete, nodding his head as he scrubbed his body.

"Honey, Honey.." he mumbled, holding the soap in front of his face as if it were a microphone, "How you thrill me, aha. Honey, Honey.."

The shower ended with the song, Jingo having scrubbed every nook and cranny he could get his fingers into; towel wrapped around his waist he looked at his reflection in the mirror, lifting and turning his head to afford him a better view of his now thick beard. Jingo contemplated shaving it, shaving it all, but he knew he wouldn't look quite like himself if he did.

Then again 'Who cares?

---

Jingo walked down the hall clean shaven, feeling a bit fresher after the shower and putting on a clean set of clothes. The jaunt in his step had returned, even if just a shadow. Turning into the mess hall, Jingo stood under the doorway for a few moments to process what he was seeing.

" Bludy 'ell! Why are ye so shor'?! he exclaimed at Ryn.

---

“I’m not a creep for fuck’s sake!” Percy shouted, his volume raising over the chatter loud enough to turn some heads. He noticed that fairly quickly, his cheeks tinging red. “I-I’m not a creep,” he repeated more quietly, but with just as much insistence, “And I’m not even that old! Hell, I wasn’t even following her, I was just getting-”

Tahlia gave a bit of a backhanded slap towards Percy’s chest, causing him to stop mid sentence. "I get it," she replied, turning her gaze so that she could stare into his angered eyes, "I know you’re not a creep, but that’s what it appeared like. Hell, the kid even looks like your one and you looked like you were going to give her a good old spanking before sending her to ‘er room."

“‘Cause she’s acting like she’s hot shit,” Percy spat, “I mean, I’m not actually going to put my hands on her - of course not -” The red-headed pilot allowed himself a deep breath in the hopes of calming down. It didn’t exactly work. “Oohh, she’s a turd. She is the biggest turd child I have ever met. - if she was mine, I’d have grounded her for a week. No nothin’.”

"But she’s not yours, is she?" Tahlia didn’t come to the Mess Hall initially to start a disagreement with a fellow pilot, but seeing the state that Percy was in and how he happened to cross paths with her at the time, there was no avoiding it. She did happen to push his buttons a bit, so a slight change in topic was probably needed. "Now I’ll repeat… Who’s the shrimp? She’s a pilot isn’t she?"

Percy huffed, not quite being able to believe Tahlia completely tuned out Graham’s introduction of Ryn, then nodded, “Yeah, she’s a pilot, because apparently putting nine year olds in giant robots is just fine, and said child killing people is-” the thirty-two year old pilot put on his best teenage girl voice, “-just, like, sooo totally cool, right?”

He cut the mockery of all teenaged girls before continuing, “Excuse me if I don’t get off on murder, for fuck’s sake.” Just after he said that, he realized how awful he was being. What grown ass man mocks and makes fun of a kid, even if said kid is the most grating, aggravating, and sarcastic little turd? He turned to make sure Ryn wasn’t close enough to hear him being an immature manchild - thankfully she was sitting down a ways away - then looked back to Tahlia like he was definitely expecting to be smacked, if not flat-out punched, in the face.

Tahlia understood where Percy was coming from, knowing that not every person was excited about the prospect of taking another person’s life, but the world they lived in didn’t always offer that charm and many had to commit the evil deed just to simply survive.

"I was 14 when I entered my first NC. Wasn’t my choice either." Tahlia dropped the light bombshell onto Percy to mostly see what his reaction would be, "Red Star orders. Either you served the corporation or you were told to fend for yourself. That one-" pointing her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of Ryn, "-seems like she could beld be of the latter."

Any anger that wasn’t gone when he realized he was being over-the-top disappeared when Tahlia brought up how old she had been when she started. His expression softened - humbling, even. When the brunette had gestured to Ryn, his eyes followed, then scanned over some of the people around the child. Only when Tahlia stopped speaking did he finally respond, concern in his voice, “How many of the other pilots were kids that got forced into it, do you think?”

"Who knows," Tahlia shrugged, somewhat relieved that Percy was talking like a normal adult again, "I never ventured much out of my compound until recently so I can’t say."

Percy’s brow furrowed slightly as he did the mental math - Tahlia said she was fourteen when she started, and she looked maybe twenty, now. “So you’ve been doing the piloting thing for.. For six-ish years?” Again, he sounded concerned as more questions that Tahlia - or anyone, really - couldn’t answer popped into his mind. How many of his fellow pilots were kids when they started doing this? What about pilots in other places? How young were they when they started? What sick bastards were hiring and training child soldiers? Was there any logical reason to it? Even if there was a logical reason, how could they put aside common morality to do such a horrible thing? All of these questions came to him in very quick succession, and he had difficulty forcing them to stop so he could actually hear Tahlia’s response.

"A lot fucking longer than that!" Tahlia roared into laughter, feeling as if it was somehow an unintended compliment on her appearance.

“I-it’s not a laughing matter,” Percy stuttered, “I-I, I’m sorry that y-you even had to go through that! That-th- I can’t imagine doing this at fourteen, let alone nine, or-or younger, even, it’s..” he hesitated, uncertain if he should really complete his thought, based on how Tahlia was staring daggers into him. He continued on anyway, “It’s fucked up. I’m sorry.”

Tahlia felt a touch of annoyance from Percy’s last lot of words - it just rubbed her the wrong way how he was showing signs of compassion for someone who didn’t desire it, "I don’t need your damn sympathy. I just need to know that if I’m about to get shot at, you’ll be there to take the fucken hit."

“I’ll do my best.” was all Percy could manage to say as Tahlia about-faced and marched off to the cafeteria in order to get something to eat with what little time she had left.

Percy followed suit, sitting down with with his daughter.

---

---

---

---

People in New Anchorage definitely knew how to give a girl a welcome and Ryn was beginning to feel a little bit of whiplash from the reactions she had gotten so far— almost to the point she coughed on her food in surprise.

The question shot at her by the tall and eccentric man was one that Ryn was honestly not expecting. Her height was about the average of her age and she didn’t look older than she actually was, so the prospect of being assumed to not be a child at first glance was a little odd. But then again the people in New Anchorage definitely knew how to make her feel some sort of whiplash from the variously different reactions she had gotten thus far and the presumption that she was some sort of person with a height deficiency was pretty hilarious— so much so that she coughed on the food she had been eating in surprise.

The orange-haired thirteen year old cleared her throat once it was apparent that she wasn’t going to choke on mashed vegetables and brown meat. As she looked up at the man before her she couldn’t help but think he was funny; and not just by the way he talked.

“Huh? I’m not that short for my age, just so you know.”

Jingo looked at her in turn for a moment, perplexed, the gears in his head grinding against each other painfully as he computed what he was hearing.

“Wha’ de ye mean ‘fer yer age’?” He asked, the meaning behind her statement flying over his head.

Either this guy was dim or he wasn’t thinking about the possibility that a teenager could be joining New Anchorage under any circumstances. Ryn let out a heavy sigh as she looked at him blankly before responding to him.

“Do you have volts for brains or something? It’s obvious that I’m a kid, so… duh.”

Pursing his lips, Jingo looked at the little girl that sat on the bench far below him, sticking his tongue out of the tear in the side of his face and biting it in thought. “Are ye trying te play games with me, lass? Coz if so, e’m very amused.”

Ryn raised a brow— her experiences at New Anchorage were hardly consistently normal for her, even with the previous introductions she had to make at other places where she had been employed briefly. First there was Commander Graham who didn’t treat her one way or the other and just wanted to get on to business, then there was Percy Moore who condescended and belittled her whilst acting like a stuttering moron, and finally there was Vera who was closer to her age and was the most welcoming person thus far. And now there was this person and whatever this conversation was. The tonal shift was going to give her a migraine. Why did things have to be confusing? A light sigh exited her voice as she set down her fork on the metal tray that held her food.

“Nope.” She shook her head. “I’m a kid. Thirteen years old. You people up here are weird, do you know that? First I’m a kid and now I’m basically some kind of shortstack; what the literal fuck?”

Jingo turned his head over his shoulder and spat, hitting Skitters straight in the muzzle, he winced for a moment, mouthing “sorry boy” before returning his attention to the little girl. The only girls Jingo had been use to were the little ones, Percy and Elizabeth’s children— they were pleasant, nice even, but this child was just odd. He plonked himself down in the seat in front of her, still dwarfing her, and scanned her face.

“Ye shud wa’ch yer language.”

“Why the fuck should I do that? I’ll speak how I want.”

“Oi!” He yelled out, loud enough so that everyone in the mess hall stopped for a moment and turned to look, “Ye be’er watch yer mouf, or I'll break i’ for ye. We’re civilized folk, and we dun’ee swear all Willy nilly!”

He looked at her with a mixture of anger and confusion, why was he even having this discussion?

Ryn’s lips turned into a scowl as he raised his voice and decided that it was a good idea to threaten her. After Percy’s bullshit earlier she wasn’t going to stand for people telling her what she was going to do and it most certainly wasn’t in her character to be a scared little girl. If people wanted to fight she wasn’t going to back down; she never backed down. In response she acted on instinct as her hands curled into fists before she slammed them down without thinking.

“Then fucking break it for me, fuckface! I’m not going to sit down like I’m scared of you! I am not afraid to kick your ass right here! If you want to fight, let’s fucking fight!”

Jingo glared at the little girl, his eyes burning with rage - he brought his fist down on the table just as she did, sending her plate and tray into the air and onto a heap behind her. He was finding it hard to keep a straight face and slowly his glare disintegrated into a half-assed attempt of holding back a laugh.

Something he couldn't quite do.

The man burst out laughing, clutching his gut with his prosthetic hand but quickly regretted it as he pricked himself. “Ye shud ‘av seen te look on yer face!”

Ryn blinked in utter disbelief at Jingo’s reaction to her— was he making fun of the idea that she could kick his ass or was it that she was so quick to step up? Whichever the case, she wasn’t quite sure what had just happened and her nerves began to slowly cool due to the absurdity of the whole endeavor that had just happened and after a minute of stiff silence… she chuckled.

“The fuck is wrong with you? You’re crazy.”

“Aye, I'm crazy.” He said through dying chuckles, “The name is John, though mos’ call me Jingo.”

Jingo patted the spot by his side and Skitters hopped up with no objections. “And this ‘ere is Ski’ers, you'll see me in the Wessex. The li’le one with the machine guns.”

“People who care to know me call me Ryn. I pilot the Phantasm. It’s like a normal NC but with sniper and artillery utility. It’s awesome.”

“Yer the pilot of tha’ big, purple fucker?!” He exclaimed in bewilderment, “She is an awesome craf’, tha’s fer sure.” Jingo extended his prosthetic, giving her a broad smile, “It's a pleasure te have ye Ryn.”

Ryn looked quizzically at the hand before carefully grabbing onto it with her hand. She didn’t want tetanus or something. “Yeah, you’re weird… but okay. I can deal with okay.”

“Me sirname Is Strange.”

Ryn nodded, managing another chuckle before she turned to the floor where the little food she had left was scattered before she casually placed her hands behind her head, a sigh leaving her lips. “I’m bored now.”

“Wan’ee go shoo’ing?” He suggested, scratching Skitters metallic head.

“Thanks, but nah. I’m just gonna go on a walk. Later.”

---

Despite the new commotion, Eli spent the rest of her lunch in silence. She’d met one new person already, and while Joshua didn’t seem like the bad sort –for what first impressions with him were worth–, she wasn’t about to play another game of icebreaker with a stranger. Still, Ryn had her attention for as long as Vera was there, even if it was subtle.

Much to her relief, everything seemed to go well. Ryn was doubtless on the rougher side, either because she was actually as weathered as she purported to be, or she was merely pretending. It didn’t matter much either way, she saw upsides to both. If Ryn was truly experienced, then she’d be an actual asset to New Anchorage. If she wasn’t, if all of her huffing and puffing was just that, then Eli didn’t need to worry about her questionable loyalty; the girl wouldn’t survive anyway.

As her mother said: ”People are threats up until their last breath.”

Her meal finished, Eli started out of the mess hall just before the shouting between Jingo and Ryn began. She heard it outside, but when it dissolved, figured the situation was handled.

Reflex developed over the past days steered her towards the simulation room, but she found herself fighting it. In a moment of shame she wondered if her hesitation stemmed from fear, but pushed that away quickly. There was nothing to fear, and she’d been steadily improving in both time and damage sustained, confident that before long she would clear Lofgren’s room with little issue. So what anchored her?

A pit formed in her stomach, she knew the answer before she’d even finished thinking the question. Checking the time, she saw there was still a chunk left before lunch came to an end, and with a sharp turn Eli headed away from the simulation route, and towards the barracks. She would spend the rest of the hour in her room, she had a call to make.

---

A heavily cloaked figure moved through the New Anchorage hallways keeping to the shadows as much as possible, but also determined that it needed to make this dangerous journey towards freedom. It's boots slammed on the ground with an earth shattering explosion in every step; a sound that didn't quite match the size of it's own body. Even if the utmost care was taken to soften the noise it wouldn't matter... that was simply how this unique being walked.

Finally the individual came to the intended target, looking ahead with the only eye that was still it's own. The hunger that was being experienced deep within her belly was visually shown by the build-up of saliva in the mouth. The only thing left was to walk through the doorway that stood before her. This was going to be it, everything that she had ever dreamed of and more!

"Real Food!!!" Madison tearfully whispered to herself, seeing the glorious interior of the busy Mess Hall open up to her. Ever since she woke up from her coma she had been on a strict diet on order to build up her energy again but eating "Jelly and Tofu", as she called it, for that time was simply not enough to satisfy her. The girl had taken note of the daily schedule that the doctors and nurses followed, the times they performed tests and the moments that they let her have time to herself. With this knowledge she decided that today was going to be the day that she would make her grand escape and eat like the Mother-Fucken-Queen!

Madison made her way stealthily past the groups of people, both recognising the few that she had arrived here with and curious about the many others that she had never seen before in her life. She kept to herself and tried to avoid a scene as she wandered her way up to the servery to reach out and grab a tray. The girl picked it up with her artificial hand and noticed how the grip that she had wasn't quite enough. The tray slid through her fingertips like ice, quickly forcing her to catch the sheet of metal with her free left before it fell to the ground.

"Crap!" she swore out loud, realising that she was only seconds away from becoming the center of attention. She didn't want that to happen, she wanted to stay invisible. Maybe a lifetime ago it would have been different, but for today she only wanted to stand alone as she pondered over what delicious delicacy she was going to break her new-found food virginity with.

...

"Quit standing there like a roo in tha fucken spotlight and pick something!"

Madison quickly spun her head around to say, "Sorry". As she looked up at the thick Australian accent she noticed instead that this woman beside her had a rather strong Asian appearance. This was someone Madison didn't recognise nor expected but the vibe that she was exerting at the time seemed to indicate that the younger girl was taking way too long in her choice of meal. Madison turned back towards the dishes and continued to ponder a bit more, not realising that she had re-entered her trance like state.

...

"Seriously?" This time the woman forcefully leaned over in front of Madison and started scooping up various portions for herself, dumping the heaps onto her own tray and then decided to point to a few various dishes with the grasped ladle, "It's the bloody same shit every day. The chow tucker and snags are edible, the reef will make you chunder, and the veggies are all watery shit."

Throughout the spiel Madison stood there somewhat confused as to what this woman was talking about, however there was one small detail that she noticed visually. It was a rather unique, black symbol that spread it's way across the the woman's back as she leaned over to grab her food. "She's Red Star!" Madison whispered quietly to herself, but not realising that she was actually whispering right into Tahlia's ear.

Tahlia briefly paused what she was doing, scoop halfway buried into one of slurry pits. A heavy exhale was made as she made a final shovel for food before dumping the mass of boiled vegetables on top of whatever else she had collected. With a forceful shove she stabbed the tray into Madison's grip, forcing the edge to dig deep into her stomach region. The girl gave a harsh cough as she glanced down only now noticing that Tahlia must have pulled the tray out of her grip while she was locked in a daze.

"Next time you can farm for your own fucken meal," the ex-Red Star snapped back as she scooped up her own tray and proceeded to wander off towards the free tables, leaving Madison to stand alone. The young, pink haired girl couldn't do much more then stare down at the dish that had at one stage disappeared from her own grasps without her knowledge. As amazing as this meal was, she felt defeated by this simple fact and she could feel the tears slowly well up in the corner of her eyes.

"But... I don't like cauliflower," she whimpered, noticing the flakes of white that were infected throughout her meal.