The hangar was steadily filling up with pilots alerted by the alarm, mechanics scrambling to check on the Walkers in various states of casual attire.
Hassan looked over the console. The Jinn looked primed and ready, thanks to his work in the morning.
Natalie Martell
Natalie cursed under her breath as the ice cream truck idled in traffic. The roads were packed with civilians on a multitude of civilians, confused by the sirens, attempting to return home while the hopelessly outnumbered security eprsonnel tried to ease the congestion. The walkways were no better, packed with foot traffic.
The driver, sensing her impatience, cut out of his lane when the lights turned green and swerved into a side road almost to narrow for the truck. Natalie held on to her seat as the truck bounced along the roads between the blocks of Horizon.
After several minutes, the truck squeezed out of an opening and onto a well-worn dirt path. Natalie was about to ask if the driver was lost when she saw the rear of Horizon Base in the distance, beyond a gravel-lined wooded path.
So that's how the clerks get their ice-cream...
Mikhail Brukhanov
Mikhail could afford himself a brief smile as he approached the gates of the base on his wobbling bicycle. He flashed his ID and was promptly let in. As he brought his bicycle to a halt outside the hangar, he took note of where the other pilots were rushing towards.
"Hope it's just a false alarm," he muttered, rushing to his Jinn to make sure its batteries were charged. He began to plan ahead. Where would he even report to? Perhaps the ready room, perhaps one of the briefing rooms... maybe even the hangar proper?
Natalie Martell
"Room for one more?" Natalie ventured. It did not appear so, and it would have been inconvenient to decide which of the five pilots would have to hoof it.
"Go ahead! I'll hitch a ride!" She called out to the others. They had taken the window, but she decided that the stairs would be safer.
As she exited the building, pushing through the partygoers now confused by the wailing sirens, Natalie spotted an ice cream truck trundling along. She flagged it down and attempted to converse in the local language. It took longer than she hoped, but a quick flash of her military ID and the driver put two and two together and understood.
She hopped into the passenger's seat. The other pilots on their motorbikes would make it to base way before the ice cream truck, but it was still better than hoofing it. She tried to calm her nerves as her heart beat faster.
It's happening again...
Mikhail Brukhanov
The wailing of sirens broke Mikhail out of his reverie.
"What could possibly be the problem?" He wondered aloud. He checked the standard issue communicator he was given. It was an immediate recall order.
Mikhail looked up, trying to find any transportation back to base, but this sector was deserted. He jogged along the length of the block and back, and was considering running back when a flash of motion caught his eye.
The young child from before was out of the building again, this time accompanied by an old woman leaning on a cane, dressed in a faded purple dress. She called out to Mikhail in the local tongue. He could just make out a few words: Return fast?
He was surprised that she had figured out he was one of the garrison's pilots, then remembered he was wearing his military tracksuit. He nodded in response.
The old woman mumbled something under breath and motioned to Mikhail to follow her and he obliged. She led him to the staircase Mikhail had seen the young girl run up previously. The old woman pointed to the back of the stairwell.
Mikhail moved over and saw a bicycle, grey and dusty, leaning against the wall. Grinning he pushed it out onto the street, feeling the motion of the wheels. They were still smooth, and after shaking the frame he decided it was still sturdy enough.
Mikhail turned back to thank the old woman, but she was gone. The young girl was still there, looking at the bike this time. He waved goodbye and she waved back, before turning and running back up the stairs.
I guess I've tarried long enough, he thought, and cycled back to base on the wobbling, creaking bicycle.
"Ha! That's why I've never asked for a transfer to a custom unit. The closer to baseline, the closer to the manuals, and the more liekly you can fix someone else to fix your issues.
Natalie Martell
Natalie looked at the others for a hint of recognition.
Before Benjamin could reply, the sounds of rattling and whooshing filtered into the hangar. It was unlike anything Hassan had ever heard.
"What's that?" Hassan made his way to the hangar opening, which looked out over the city.
Less than a klick away, in an open field where civilians had gathered, was a Walker, armoured and customised, wielding two large swords and engaging in a high speed display of martial arts. Hassan was transfixed at the giant armoured war machine's fluidity and grace, blades flashing one way, then the other, as the mech itself spun and pivoted in tune with the blades.
Hassan looked over to see Benjamin coming over, sleeves up and greased out.
"Unfortunately not. No one asked me to make my kebabs today! Travesty, I tell you. And no, HQ didn't get me to work today, just wanted to check on the Jinn," Hassan said, shaking Benjamin's hand by way of greeting. He could clean the grease off later, no worries.
"And I've told you, Ahmad is my dad. Call me Hassan.
"Anyway, kebabs. Know any hungry pilots who could do with some?"
Natalie Martell
Natalie's attention was drawn from the floats and real Walkers to the woman Beryl was closing out to. She didn't envy the pilots in the Walkers, having to carefully maneuver their war machines through the streets. They weren't narrow by any means, but, the crowd was spilling onto the street.
"Beryl, that might have been a little rude," she whispered.
Mikhail Brukhanov
Mikhail watched in awe as the procession of Walkers lumbered across his view, the entire formation visible from his spot. He'd only rarely seen Walkers back home in the Free Territory, the Federation hesitant to add possible fuel to the diplomatic firewood of the region. As a pilot he'd only seen training Walkers, rudimentarily painted and battered after years of trainee abuse. His own Tachanka had been, and still was, a sight to behold. Here, as an entire squadron paraded in ceremonial colours and arms, it was a truly impressive sight.
"Wasn't there in the original almost-conflict, but I was deployed in the subsequent waves to help keep the two forces separate. Made a few warnings myself a few time when their ships got too close. Never managed to see one of their Walkers though. Wonder what they were like..."
Mikhail Brukhanov
The humidity, oh my.
The thought flashed through his mind as Mikhail strolled the streets of Horizon. He knew it was Colony Day and that everyone had turned out for the parade, but large crowds made Mikhail uneasy, which was why he had elected to get a view of the parade from where he was: the uphill sector of the city, a relatively quiet area, mostly abandoned in the past decade as newer areas of the city were developed. In other cities such an area would be a refuge for the homeless and adrift, but here, in this vital city of the Federation, the city council had swept those off the streets some time ago.
Mikhail stopped as he crested a slope, resting on the shaded entrance of an apartment building. He could see the bustling city centre from here, no problem.
A sound from behind alerted him, and he turned to see a young child, clad in stained grey clothing and broken sandals, looking up at him. She had likely not seen strangers in these parts in a long time, Mikhail surmised, from the dark rimmed eyes that looked up at him curiously.
Before he could smile and greet them in the local tongue, they turned and ran back into the apartment building, towards the distant sound upstairs of an old woman hollering. Mikhail's smile faded.
"Over this crowd? I'd be surprised if we could hear them," Natalie joined in, leaning on the railing beside the other two pilots. She had heard that the citizens of Horizon built giant paper mache floats on Colony Day, even giant paper AWs. She was curious to see what designs the lively citizens would come up with.
Hassan Ahmad
"Well, a few. Amazon, Western Europe, Horn of Africa, South Chine Sea, the usual tour I guess."
As much as it sounded fun, Natalie didn't particularly enjoy parties or social fun. Still, it wouldn't hurt to spend some time with her squadron mates.
