An Inseparable Bond
"It is in the nature of younger pilots to become attached to their Titans... This is ill-advised. Titans are replaceable, destroyed many times on the battlefield and are non-sentient AI. They should never be considered more than this..." [The IMC Pilot's handbook, First Edition]
A buzzer sounded, making each Pilot snap out of the daze they were in. Some reactivating from a sort of sleep mode, others jerking awake from the nap they had taken. The sickening lurch of a phase jump stuck heavily in the stomachs of most of the organic individuals on the dropship, the mechanical ones felt their sensors having to recallibrate. Natural light suddenly exploded across the windows of the dropship, dampeners immediately slamming down to plunge the interior into a strange half-light.
"Alright Pilots... This is your first live-fire combat operation..." A voice came from the far back of the dropship. It was a mechanical voice, one that was as likely to shout at you as it was to physically assault your ear drums, a comm-robot stood at the end of the ship with a familiar helmeted face of the unit's commander, Olisan 'Ironhide' Wherta, illuminated by the hazard lights that began to light up in the hold. With the helmet on, the man's face was hidden from view, a cracked, heavily painted visor looking over the new bloods with the cold indifference of someone who has been in their station for far too long.
"Simply hold this location against Remnant Fleet forces, it should only be a scout force, since the main body are tackling against a refinery thirty clicks North. Titans are on standby if you need them, but intelligence suggests this shouldn't be necessary. Good luck." The 'face' of the droid flickered as the communication link cut out, the robot taking a moment before lurching and moving to sit uncomfortably still on the benches lining the walls of the ship.
Everyone glanced at one another, the dropship swayed gently as it floated between the floating pillars of rock towards the groups goal, a small mining outpost cradled in a natural bowl that must've been caused by some kind of meteoric impact some time a go. The weather was pleasant, no rain, no thunder, no blazing sunlight... Just there. The Pilots in the dropship began to move around, picking up pouches, weapons and other things that belonged to them to attach to their person. Several organics went to... Relieve themselves prior to the drop, while the duo of mechanical pilots chattered in binary to one another.
Z3-DY and 4D-4M were experienced pilots, who had gone through Regeneration so many times that it was decided by those higher up the chain of command that they would be able to continue better in mechanical bodies. Some others say that they were always robots. Either way, they had been Regenerated so many times since that even they had forgotten.
Z3-DY was fond of gathering colourful ornaments to attach to his wiry and narrow chassis, flowers kept in suspension fields, colourful bits of cloth from tattered banners that gave him the appearance of someone that was in a paint factory when a bomb went off. Z3-DY is one of the few survivors of the upcoming mission. Though he will be missing an arm afterwards.
4D-4M was a much more dour robot, set in a grim black chassis with heavy looking plates of bullet-resisting metal, all hidden beneath a large trench-coat with a fur collar that seemed to flicker with the tell-tale sign of a cloaking field. 4D-4M manages to survive by hiding in battlefield with her cloak engaged until Titanfall.
At this point, they were trying to work out if either could remember the taste of ration bars.
There were six other pilots, new bloods that had only just been cleared for live combat operations after years, in some cases decades, of time spent in simulation pods. This was their first combat operation... And most of them were coping with this fact well.
There was Bart Grazlok. He came from an Agri-world and had some experience piloting a Journeyman to help him do the heavy lifting on his family run farm. After his Journeyman was conscripted unwillingly by the local militia on his world, he nearly died from starvation and sickness as his farm fell into disrepair until it it was destroyed by the battles that rocked that planet. He will die thirty seconds into the Drop from an enemy sniper wielding a Kraber rifle.
Sat besides him was a skittish woman, leafing through an old looking datapad with a cracked screen and chassis. Xandria Riolash's life had been saved by that datapad, it taking an energy bolt meant for her when she was engaged in firefights with other Grunts when she served in a standing army of a Rimworld. Somehow it still worked. She was playing poker. She will die in twenty minutes and fourty two seconds from T-0 as she attempts to scale a building with a grappling hook, a firestar in the side of her body eating and destroying her internal organs. Her datapad survives.
Over the way, attempting to look at the snowy fields far beneath them, the youngest of the newbloods was looking incredibly calm about the entire affair. Olivia Rizol let her leg jitter nervously however, betraying her inner worry at her first mission. Her lower legs were removed and augmented to become blade-runners, the young lady being the swiftest of the group. She not only survives, but in the first one able to call in their Titan, as it will soon be told.
Besides her, staring at the ground of the dropship as it slowly began to come to a halt, Lawrie McRobert was lost in his own mind. His father and mother had both been Pilots, their Titans had even been at their wedding which was a surprise to all those attending. Lawrie had passed his Pilot training with flying colours, but was kept under close observation for his psychological damage from a simulation pod malfunction that kept him trapped for almost a week. He doesn't manage to call in his Titan, but immediately gains the nickname 'Cowboy' after this engagement, once his armour repairs the bullet wounds in his gut.
Currently relieving themselves out of the port-side gunner window is Phineas Orionson. He consistently insists that his name is Hotshot. This is a lie. Pedigree described everything that this man was. So confident in his ability to be the best, he enters the battlefield wielding only a Wingman revolver and a Magnetic Grenade Launcher then stubbornly refuses to call in his Titan. He is killed ten minutes and thirty seven seconds into the battle by an enemy Ronin, being in the wrong place at the wrong time as the Ronin exits its Phase Shift. There are no remains to collect.
Finally, sat next to the robot that delivered its 'heartfelt' speech sits Kyra Crimsonweave. She came from the Frontier. Born and raised there. She joined the Marauder Corps as soon as she was old enough. It took her a long time to earn her Military Grade Pilot License, due to a slight anomaly in the neural pattern recognition of each Titan that was attempted to be bonded. Kyra will be the last to die, fourty minutes and two seconds, the ejection protocols of her Titan malfunctioning as she is slain by an enemy Ion Titan.
None of them know that the Remnant Fleet have been camped at this location for the past week.