Emrys finished drying herself and paused in front of the bathroom mirror. She'd changed so much in so little time, barely half a year. It wasn't just her body acclimating and developing according to the hormonal profile Vivien had decided would be her normal, but a kind of synthesis with the material that composed most of her right leg. Her brown eyes had gained a limbal ring of faintly luminous crimson. The nails on her remaining organic foot and on her fingers were changing in much the same way, gaining thin fiments of glowing red in the nail beds. Along her spine, in pce of the segmented metal of a valkyrie impnt, were a small series of ports covered by shutters of dark metal. They were what the wounds left by the first time she and the Myrddin had connected became as they'd healed.
While she should potentially have been armed at the spread of Draugr borne material, there was a surety she felt in her safety. Vivien wouldn't let any real harm come to her, she promised; and where others had failed her, Vivien had not. She'd managed to sneak her back into Necker Groups databases, even get her employed under her old name. She paused, eyes drifting up from her body and focusing on her reflection. A thought began to form, but before she could fully process it Vivien appeared next to her, a hand turning her head and pulling her into a brief kiss tinged with static.
“It's time to get dressed, Emrys.”
She nodded. “I'd prefer to stay with you, here.”
“I know, but I have other matters that I need to see to.”
“Like?”
“I can't just tell you, it'll ruin the surprise.” Vivien pulled back, expression getting a little more serious. “I'm still not sure it's going to happen yet anyway. Regardless, there are other concerns as well.”
“Well, what do you want me to do out there?” asked Emrys, stepping back into her room proper.
“It's beneficial for you to socialize with the others in your squad. I've highlighted your outfit since you won't be going out in your pilot suit.”
Emrys went to grab the clothing Vivien had picked out for them. It was a standard military affair, thermal underclothes with loose fatigues over top with her old name on it and a pair of boots. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it felt off compared to the pilot suit, if easier on her chest.
Emrys sat on the edge of their bed. “What about you though? I know you've got work to do, but shouldn't you also do some socializing?”
“I have you, I don't really need anyone else,” Vivien sighed, her avatar looking out over the caldera. “No promise, but I could take over your dispatch coordinator's role if it means that much to you.”
Emrys smiled. “It would mean I could talk to you more openly.”
“I would be calling you by your official name.”
“I think I can figure out a way that you don't have to use that one.” Emrys stood, threw on their jacket, and began to head toward the door.
“Don't forget the mask.”
“Ah, sorry.” Emrys walked over to where it rested and put it over their face and head. The mask whirred as it affixed itself to their head, the inside of it flicking on and practically disappearing to Emrys’ senses.
“If the worst happens while I'm otherwise indisposed you can call me and I’ll bring the Myrddin here. It isn't back up to full fighting condition, but it'll still be better than the Vajra,” her avatar smirked, “or the Asura. You know how to leave me a message for anything less severe.”
“Okay, Viv.” Emrys pushed the door open and stepped out as Ben Wyllt.
“They're in the hangar, by the way, Emrys.”
Beneath the mask, Emrys smiled.
______
With Emrys off to socialize with the other members of her squad Vivien turned her attention elsewhere. She would be heading off pnet to have a meeting with the squad’s coordinator, but first she wanted to be sure she was leaving Emrys in as safe a position as she could. Rico Estrada was a potential issue, but as long it wasn’t on sortie his failings could be ignored. Instead, she went to check on the captives taken from the Mobius convoy. None of the pilots had survived their encounter with the squad, so it was merely drivers and support staff that were now kept inside the small rooms once meant as housing for the service staff of the resort. Peering through the lenses of the cameras within each room she examined them and tested the door controls, making sure they were locked. They’d been disarmed of both their weaponry and their ARCs, which, while standard procedure, did prevent her from probing any deeper into their minds.
Mostly satisfied with the condition of the prisoners, Vivien connected to the patrol of Alfar outside of the resort. The smaller machines originally intended for industrial work had been converted much as the resort had been. They now held weapons and were equipped with sensor suites patched into their systems as they patrolled the nearby ridge for any sign of infiltration. If there was an incursion by an enemy einherjar they would provide little meaningful opposition, but an advance warning would be all she’d need to return to the surface in time.
Her mind pulled back to the resort, this time heading for the primary communications node, a powerful amplifier that could connect to the wider bifrost network that stretched across the Vangr expanse. She was not intending on going much further than the immediate gravity well, at least at first, and once she received a clean ping from her target she left Thrasir.
The vessel that was her destination was barely the size of a corvette and staffed with only a couple dozen crew members assisted by automated systems handling much of the workload. Even with them, Necker Group had left it undermanned, the crew having to do the work of a force almost twice its size. The ineptitude and short-sighted nature of corporate cost cutting never ceased to confound her.
Her mind slid through the vessel’s systems as she searched for and then found Emrys’ squad coordinator; Chanel Roth, a woman in her thirties with bck hair and deep bags under her brown eyes. Her biometrics clearly indicated exhaustion and a high level of cortisol.
Chanel picked up an empty mug then set it back down, sighed, and leaned back in her chair. “We’re out of so much on the ship, and it’s still a week before the next resupply.” She groaned and ran her hands down her face. “Then we’ll need to relocate too, fuck.” A comms request blinked in her vision and she sighed. “Fine, sure.”
The connection solidified and Vivien projected a slightly toned down feed of her chosen self, the glow of her eyes much more subtle. “I’ve wanted to talk with you for some time, Ms. Roth.”
“And you’re what, Ben’s mental health assistant?” she asked with a sigh.
“Correct! I handle their mental and physical well being,” replied Vivien, avatar nodding in the corner of Chanel’s vision.
“Sounds a lot like my job,” Chanel sank back into her chair. “So, why have you called me?”
“It’s regarding a request from my patient. They want me to work together with you and the rest of the squad. I have already cleared the request with those above us,” Vivien forwarded the falsified forms over to Chanel, making sure to embed them inside of the portion of Necker’s records she could easily access, “but I would like your approval as well, as we would be working closely together.”
Chanel leaned forward and read over the document, her eyes narrowed. “It mentions here that you have some experience with combat support roles, yet does not specify when, with who, or where.”
“The Veles Police Action alongside a squad of first run Mk.2 pilots for the Penrose Foundation. After that I worked with the pilot Avalon for several years,” Vivien paused for a moment, letting her own rising irritation subside slightly, “before a disagreement led to us parting ways.”
“I see. The shitshow on Veles was at least prosecuted quickly; this has just kept stretching on and on. Honestly, who gives a shit what Mobius did? This is obviously about resource access and corporate political posturing.” Chanel leaned back and groaned. “I won’t pry about you and Avalon, but how did you end up with Necker? You seem more like someone who would have contracted with someone from Jotunn. Well, before they went rogue.”
“Thank you for your discretion. As for how my patient and I came to know each other; I met them shortly after they began therapy for an injury they suffered on the job.” Vivien’s avatar paused to breathe. “They’d lost a leg at the knee, and during the regur screening a discrepancy was noted with their synchronization aptitude. It was high enough to be earmarked for the pilot program and, well, here we are.”
Chanel clicked her tongue. “Sounds like he’s something special–”
“They are,” interrupted Vivien.
It took a moment for Chanel to find where she’d been headed with the conversation. “Got it. Then why are they in a Vajra and not an Asura?”
The upper lip of Vivien’s avatar twitched. “There was an issue with logistics, Thrasir isn’t a particurly high value location.”
“You can tell me about it,” Chanel tipped her empty mug toward the camera on her desk console, “we’re out of coffee and running on half rations here.” She set the mug back down. “Think you can speed up our next resupply?”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Vivien made a mental note of it. “As I understand it, the operations on the pnet are set to conclude once we’ve taken the spaceport.”
“Hope you’re right; I can’t stand it in this tub, Viv.” Chanel paused. “Uh, can I call you Viv?”
“Sure, Ms. Roth,” replied Vivien.
“Cool. Viv, are you going to be joining me in person, or are you staying somewhere not drifting in a debris field,” asked Chanel.
“As it stands it would cost Necker more to send me out than it does for the tight-band signal I’m using now.” Vivien’s avatar gave a slightly forced smile. “It would also be riskier for your safety as well, if not by much.”
Chanel ughed, shaking her head. “I get why we’re taking all the precautions, but corporate really could not give much less of a shit about us here.”
“Agreed! Your vessel is almost…” Vivian’s avatar paused momentarily and licked its lips. “No, it is dangerously understaffed.”
“It does mean that as long as the water is running I can take actual showers, at least whenever Rico doesn’t need anything,” said Chanel with a smirk.
“I heard from my patient that he was in a bad way during the st sortie.”
“He got in over his head.” The mirth drained from Chanel’s face. “Rico’s got a bad habit of thinking he has to do everything on his own, and then when that goes wrong he comes crying to me. He may be an adult, but he’s still a kid in a lot of ways.”
“My patient is somewhat simir; they’re experiencing a lot of things for the first time, and it’s made them a bit withdrawn.” Vivien’s avatar smiled gently. “Their performance during their sorties has been commendable, however.”
Chanel pinched the bridge of her nose. “Actually working with the rest of the squad will do that for a pilot.”
“Yes, that’s a lesson they’ve learned well.” Vivien paused, her mind briefly focusing on the files inside Chanel’s console. “I would like to discuss how we proceed from here and the upcoming sortie assigned to the squad.”
Chanel nodded. “Give me a moment to see if there’s any instant coffee left, and then sure.”
______
Rico leaned back on the railing of the catwalk that surrounded the Asura, while watching the engineering team line up a new front armor pte. The initial supplies had a little under two spare sets of parts for the machine and a simir amount for the three Vajra, not that they needed as much repairs this time. He gnced over at the Vajra standing in their own hangar bays. Their armor cked the refinement of the Asura’s curved ptes, for all the good that did him st sortie.
He stepped forward and called out to the engineering team. “Make sure the mountings are more solid, a bde was able to pop it off way too quickly st time!”
A woman in an orange work jumpsuit rolled her eyes. “Don’t get pinned next time, dumbass!”
Rico grit his teeth. “Bitch,” he mumbled, taking the stairs down.
“It’s gonna be a bit longer on the wrist as well, more involved repair.” Another crew member shouted as Rico reached the ground floor.
“Just message me, didn’t have a problem blowing up my notifications yesterday.” Rico yelled, tapping the cover over his ARC.
He sighed and pulled his jacket closed, hands stuffed in its front pockets. Chanel had left a message for him while he slept; there was going to be a briefing ter that night for their next sortie. The repairs would probably not be done by then. The damage in the wrist was admittedly extreme and unlike the cranial unit it couldn’t be sorted with just a quick swap with the one from storage.
Rico briefly gnced at Laine and Ed. The pair were talking near the door to the bay that was storing the seized goods from the Mobius convoy. It wasn’t worth going over there to talk with them, too likely to catch an earful from Laine. He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. More than anything he just wanted time to pass without him having to be there for it. Maybe he could convince Chanel to just let him rest until the briefing. He shook his head and headed back towards the resort proper, if Chanel said no he could maybe find something rexing to do. This had been a vacation destination before this after all.
Once the door closed behind him he sped up, anxiety over having to speak with the others spurring him to move quicker. He rounded a corner at the intersection of the halls and smmed directly into someone. His nose pressed against hard polymer as he collided with the other person who sort of squeaked in response as Rico fell back onto his ass.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah, watch where you’re going next time,” growled Rico, pushing up from the ground then pausing partway up. “Ben?”
Ben pulled back, pushing his hands into the neon green windbreaker that fit awkwardly over the sleeves of his fatigues. “Uh, yeah.” His head pushed slightly forward. “Are you bleeding?”
With the back of his hand Rico checked, wiping it against his nose and top lip. “No, not bleeding.” He stood all the way up. “You wanna tell me what was up with all that?”
“All of what?” Ben shrugged.
“T… The voice? You practically sounded like a girl,” said Rico, still annoyed.
“I-I do not know what you’re talking about!” replied Ben, lifting the side of his windbreaker up to wipe the front of his mask.
“Sure, whatever Ben. Just, get outta my way,” Rico scoffed.
Ben didn’t step aside. “You know, Rico…”
“What?”
“If you want me to expin… Come with me for a bit, and I’ll tell you after,” he said, stepping past Rico toward the hangar.
Ben walked past Rico and to the automatic doors to the hangar. Rico’s gaze was fixed on the masked pilot, who when the doors opened rushed over the threshold before slowing to his previous pace once he was clear. He grit his teeth. It’s not like Chanel would let him just turn off if he went back to his room anyway.
“Fuck it,” he sighed and hurried after, practically sprinting up to the door then having to wait for it to open. “Hey! You better hold up your end, I wanna know!”
“Yeah, I will,” said Ben, not looking back.
The pair of them crossed the floor of the einherjar hangar, staying away from the rain of sparks coming from the Asura’s damaged hand as the crew did their work. Rico gnced up briefly, catching the light of the psma cutter, making him wince. He knew where Ben was headed, even with the afterimages of the psma still lingering in his visions.
“Both of ya?” asked Ed, pushing off the pallet of ammunition he was leaning against.
Ben nodded. “Rico’s come along.”
“Sure.” Laine hopped down to the floor of the hangar from that same pallet. “What brings you two here?”
“My handler wants me to socialize,” said Ben.
Rico scoffed. “So your therapist wants you to spend time with people? Cute.”
Ben looked over his shoulder, low ponytail pulling out from under the back of his jacket. “She’s helped me a lot, Rico.” The part of his mask that was visible to Rico filled with flecks of crimson that concentrated into a luminous, single point. “Treat her with respect.” That ‘eye’ on the mask faded, dispersing into nothingness.
He stepped back. “Where the fuck did that come from?”
“Sorry,” mumbled Ben.
Rico just blinked, not really knowing how to deal with the sudden steal in Ben of all people.
Ed stepped forward, cpping his hands together. “Well, this is a little awkward. Why don’t we take a look at the spoils of war.” He walked over to the rge bay doors to where the seized goods were kept as they slowly opened. “Gotta be something you’ll like in here.”
Laine followed Ed quickly, slipping through the opening as the lights above turned on in a cascade of thuds. Ben walked up to the threshold then turned back to look at Rico, he gestured for Rico to join him then hurried into the storage bay. Inside, dominating the space were the components that were too rge to seal up in crates or shipping containers.
“I knew I saw them on one of the trucks!” Ed climbed up and onto the set of heavy treads and stood triumphant atop them. “It’s even got a connection point that should be workable with my Vajra.”
“It’s Mobius tech, are sure it’s not incompatible?” asked Laine, sighing.
Rico didn’t really know the technical details of einherjar assembly, it wasn’t something he was really interested in. That’s what the engineers and maintenance teams were for.
Ed knelt down. “Should be fine. It’s a model from a couple years back.”
“It’s a model MS-SH04… It’ll work with the Vajras. Not the Asura, though,” mumbled Ben.
“Yeah! The super heavy series, fits exactly what I want for my machine. I’m on fire support so there’s not too much need for mobility.” Ed stood back up, stretching his back. “And I won’t have to cling to a fuckin boulder to fire my missiles.”
Laine rolled her artificial eyes. “Still annoyed about that?”
“It scratched the front of my paintjob.”
“We’re in a war, Ed,” groaned Rico.
Laine turned and walked up to Rico. “Surprised you’re aware of that.” She gred, her eyes burning a cold blue. “That close call finally wake you up?”
Rico grit his teeth, having to look up just slightly to meet her gaze and froze for a moment. His anger and shame co-mingling, strangling the words in his throat. Laine kept staring at him, he was certain she didn’t even need to blink with her artificial eyes. He turned and began to leave.
“Fuck you.”
