Jarden studied the frozen grass twelve feet beneath her. Each blade extended itself out in a different direction from the white frosted cluster; short, but defiant despite their size, their growth permanently stunted by the cold hard soil and the perpetually frost-bitten wind.
The young woman brought a hand to her face and frowned. She could feel that same wind on her cheek-filtered to a breeze by the armor of the mechanized combat unit she was fastened into, but present all the same.
Another KAGE lie, she thought to herself. The first thing she had been told upon entering compound was that she would be piloting an actual combat-ready Mech. If this were true the cockpit would be airtight. In a real combat situation she would be dead in minutes, first suffocating to unconsciousness on her own exhaust then eating an enemy rocket.
For a moment she considered aborting the whole mission. She had fallen victim to propaganda. The KAGE did not have the best equipped training facilities in Chora as they publicized. This was the same junk used outside the walled territory.
She reached above her head, turning off the voice activated com system of the Mech and switching on her own; a small device concealed within her right ear. "Farsur?" she tested.
"Present." Farsur's voice responded as clear as if he were standing there next to her.
"Mission status?"
Farsur sighed in annoyance. "I'm sitting in a tin can shooting BBs at a piece of sheet metal. Are you piloting a decent rig, at least?"
"I haven't fired up yet, but I can already feel the wind in my face."
"State of the art training equipment, my ass." Farsur's tone echoed Jarden's own frustrations. "We should have known better than to trust a recruitment campaign funded by the goddamn KAGE."
Jarden took a deep breath, trying to keep the familiar feeling of disappointment from drowning her. "So do we abort?"
There was a long pause as Farsur considered their options. It had been no small feat to forge passable identification to get the two of them into this facility under the guise of potential new recruits for the KAGE mechanized infantry, and Jarden knew if they left now with nothing, they would have essentially wasted every resource at their disposal.
"No." Farsur's appraisal once again seemed to mirror her own. "We're too committed now. These things are better than nothing, and I did pass a couple of interesting looking Mechs on the testing field. They were as old and rusted as these but they had some tough looking armor. If they can carry their own weight they might prove useful. Besides, if at the end of the day all we can say is we crippled a KAGE training facility, it was a day well spent. Contact Kelsea."
Jarden switched channels on her hidden Comm. "This is Jarden, we are a go."
Morgan Daly looked over her shoulder out the window. Off in the distance a rusty-looking Mech maneuvered its way awkwardly around a field full of cement columns. They seemed to be closer together than the ones she had been practicing with in the makeshift training grounds back in her home of Westedge.
She gripped her legs and took a deep breath, trying desperately to still her nerves. Still her hands shook, and her heart raced.
This isn't anything new, she told herself. You've done this a thousand times before. But the thought didn't do much to calm her. Guiding a simple utility mech around a handful of fence posts was a far cry from the maneuvers she was going to be asked to perform today.
The pilot on the field completed their run successfully and headed off for the next stage of the test somewhere out of sight. Morgan was happy to be rid of the reminder of her imminent future, and turned her attention back into the room, to her older sister Lauren seated directly to her right.
The two sisters looked a fair bit alike. They both had the same blond hair, the same blue eyes, and the same fair skin, though Lauren's was smooth and flawless, without even a hint of the light freckles the likes of which sprinkled Morgan's face, adding to her youthful appearance.
Despite the similarities, at this moment they looked quite different from one another. Lauren's expression was casual and relaxed, showing no sign of stress over the test she had come there to take.
It was more than the mere two extra years of age that granted her this confidence. Lauren had spent countless hours in a real combat mech owned by a mercenary from outside the walled territories who had taken a liking to her. In exchange for fulfilling his wants and desires he had taught her well how to pilot the large machines and even how to arm and fire it's various weapons components.
It was that experience that had convinced her she wanted to join up with the Kaylo Alta Governmental Enforcement. With forged certificates from training centers in the outlands it was a goal that was easily within her reach, but she knew she could not enlist and leave her younger sister all alone. Instead she impressed her dreams onto her meek sibling- forcing her into day long training sessions with a jury-rigged utility mech.
Morgan frowned at the memories. The thought of piloting had scared her to death before she ever set foot inside one of these machines, and the authentic experience had only added to her fear. This was always her sister's dream, never her own, but the one idea she liked even less than joining the KAGE was being alone without her sister, whom she loved and respected more than anything.
"Daly, Lauren." The proctor called, interrupting the young girl's thoughts. "Daly, Morgan."
Lauren looked up to meet the older woman's eyes expectantly. Morgan bit her lip and examined the pink leather of her boots.
"The field is clear. You may mount the test vehicles now. Follow me." She left the room without waiting for a response. The two sisters rose and followed.
"Are you familiar with the procedures for powering up a class two mech, Ms. White?"
The dark-haired girl grumbled at the radio. "Yes, ma'am."
"Then go ahead. I will be monitoring from here in case you do anything that might cause harm to yourself or the facilities."
With minimal effort Jarden's experienced hands danced across the console in front of her, activating the necessary power systems and calibrating the instruments. With the last switch the main engine ignited, the familiar vibration reverberating satisfyingly between the young pilot's legs.
She barely realized she was finished before the radio buzzed to life again. "Fine work, Ms. White, but in the future do go a bit slower. If you miss a step or flip the wrong switch you could end up causing an accident."
Jarden rolled her eyes.
"Now, shift into first gear and engage the throttle gently. Let the vehicle walk straight ahead slowly. When you are near the red line on the pavement ease it back to its start position."
Before the instructor even finished her sentence the Mech was in motion.
"You are going too fast. Ease back on the throttle."
Jarden didn't listen. She let the Mech continue to accelerate until she was nearly on top of the red line she had been instructed to stop at, then yanked the throttle back and slammed on the brakes. The old metal groaned and shuddered loudly, but still stopped on a dime as commanded.
"Don't get too carried away, Ms. White." The voice on the radio warned. "We will end this lesson if you cannot treat your equipment with the proper respect."
The young pilot smirked, but she was getting annoyed with the instructor's attitude, and bored with having to take directions from someone who didn't know half as much about the piece of machinery she was riding as she did.
"If you are ready, proceed to the first column, slowly."
Once again she muted the Mech's com and switched on her own. "This is Jarden. What's your ETA?"
"Seven minutes, Jarden." The reply came back immediately.
"Goddamn it."
Gently she pushed the throttle forward.