The next morning, Jen arrived to take her charge to a different room. It was fairly large, with several exercise machines around the walls and an open area in the middle with mats on the floor. "This is the training room," Jen explained as they entered. "You're to train here every morning. Do you recall why?"

He paused for a moment to think, then nodded. "Mech pilots need to make sure they don't neglect their own physical health, especially if they're spending a lot of time in their mechs."

"Exactly," Jen replied with a sharp nod. "Too much time spent piloting can be detrimental to the pilot's health, so it's important to maintain fitness levels. Also, the better shape you're in, the better your mech will respond."

He eyed the various machines with interest. "It'll also help to work out the kinks from any hits I've taken in the simulators," he added with a faint grin. "Give the muscles something -real- to complain about."

Jen blinked, then let out a soft chuckle. "There is that too," she agreed with a little smile before resuming her more business-like expression. "This room can also be used for hand-to-hand sparring, which will also help your reflexes in melee combat." She grimaced slightly. "Unfortunately, we don't have anyone for you to spar with yet, so you'll just have to make do with normal exercise on the machines for now."

He nodded, then regarded Jen curiously. "Yet?"

Jen raised an eyebrow at him. "You didn't think you were the only pilot we were going to create, did you?"

He blinked, then shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "I didn't really think about it at all either way." He paused, then added with a wry little smile, "Though it would explain why I had so many rooms to choose from."

Jen let out another quiet chuckle. "Indeed. We have five more in the works right now, in various stages of development."

"Five more? So there'll be six of us?"

"For now, yes. Once this batch are out, we'll be able to get another lot started." She grimaced slightly. "Assuming nothing goes wrong, anyway."

He paused his fiddling with one of the machines to look back at Jen again. "You said earlier that I'm the first one to survive - do things go wrong a lot?"

"They did to start with, yes," Jen admitted reluctantly. "It's taken a lot of time, trial and error to get this far. But with you here now, I'm confident that we've gotten the process pretty much perfected." Her expression turned wry. "Of course, now that I've said that, a thousand things will probably go wrong all at once."

"I'd ask what sort of things can happen, but given my circumstances, I probably don't want to know," he commented with a wry quirk of his mouth.

"No, you probably don't," she agreed blandly.

He chuckled, then regarded Jen thoughtfully for a moment. "I would like to know, though, if you don't mind me asking... how was I actually, uh, created?"

Jen hesitated, then shrugged. "I don't see why you shouldn't know." She paused to organise her thoughts before starting. "Well, we had to do a lot of research first - you remember that I said that not many people are compatible with mechs, yes?" He nodded, and Jen continued. "That was our original goal, just to figure out exactly what it was that made someone compatible or incompatible."

"How long did that take?"

"Too long. We nearly ran out of funding a few times - back then, we were working independently. We didn't have any outside sponsorship. But our current client heard about our work and decided to help fund us. He provided several samples of DNA from successful mech pilots for us to base our research on, as well as a lot of other data - brain scans and such. Without his help and his funding, I doubt we would have gotten as far as we did."

"Where did he get all the data from in the first place?" he asked curiously.

"From some of his employees, I believe. He owns a company that develops mechs, mostly A.I.M.s, so he had access to just about all the information we needed. He was the one who proposed the idea of actually bioengineering pilots in the first place, actually." She smiled crookedly. "Which is probably why he decided to fund us - he has, from what I've heard, several mechs under development, and nobody available to pilot them."

He tilted his head to one side, still watching her curiously. "You mentioned it before, but is being able to pilot mechs really -that- rare?"

"Rare enough in and of itself," Jen shrugged. "Even rarer for someone to not only be able, but also to be willing."

He looked confused at that. "Why would anyone -not- want to?"

"Because normally it takes years of dedication and training before someone is eligible to be assigned a mech of their own. They need to take the time to actually learn all the things that you already know."

"Oh. I suppose that makes sense." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "So how is it that I know it already, anyway?"

"Again, our client helped with that. He allowed us to record and map the brain functions of some of is best AIM pilots, both inside and outside their mechs and the simulators. From that, we were able to collate all the necessary information and transfer it into your brain while you were being grown."

"Grown?" He leaned back against one of the exercise machines and watched Jen with interest.

Jen nodded. "Normally it takes sixteen to eighteen years for a person to reach physical maturity. We, however, were able to grow you in a matter of months."

"How?"

Jen adjusted her glasses. "That's where the bioengineering comes in. We took the embryo and made adjustments to the base genetic code, to ensure compatibility with mech integration, and also to somewhat enhance the potential of things like strength, agility, endurance and reflexes." She smiled faintly. "Compared to your average, normal human, you and the other pilots we're growing are superior in a lot of ways. Not greatly so, mind, but enough to make a difference, we hope."

"Huh." He considered that for a while with a faint frown, then shook his head slightly and looked back at Jen. "Then what?"

"Then the embroy's suspended in a special formula that greatly enhances the growth rate. Once it was far enough along in development, we transferred it to the larger tank and started the information imprinting." She sighed and rubbed at the back of her neck. "That's the riskiest part. We seem to have figured out how to get it right now though, which is a relief. We discovered that illuminating the tanks with - well, a combination of different light waves, but we just call them the bluelights - helped a lot."

"Bluelights?" He blinked, his expression thoughtful. "I... remember, I think, floating in blue..."

Jen looked surprised. "You do? That's... unexpected. We didn't realise there was any amount of actual consciousness before we got you out of the tank. Do you remember anything else?"

He was silent for a while, brow furrowed in thought, then finally let out a sigh and shook his head. "Nothing else. I don't think it was even really proper consciousness. Just... brief fragments, blurry glimpses of blue."

"Interesting." Jen stared off into nowhere for a few moments, her mind elsewhere, then shook her head and looked back at him. "Thank you for telling me about that. We'll look out for anything like that happening with the others." She glanced at her watch and sighed. "Speaking of which, I should get back to work. Get some exercise here, but don't push yourself too hard. I'll be back to get you for lunch, then you'll be in the simulators with Timothy again for the rest of the afternoon."

He nodded, and Jen turned to leave. Just as she got to the door, he called out. "Jen?"

She paused and looked back at him. "Yes?"

He hesitated a moment, looking a little awkward. "... Thank you. For telling me all of that."

Jen blinked, then smiled briefly. "You're welcome." With that, she slipped out of the room, the door swinging shut behind her.

...

The next several days followed the same pattern - Jen retrieved the bioengineered soldier from his rooms and escorted him to the training rooms, where he spent the morning exercising and training. Afternoons were spent in the simulators with Timothy an ever-present voice in his ear, pushing him and his simulated mech as hard as they could go. He never mentioned how uncomfortable high altitudes made him to either Jen or Timothy though. He figured it was a temporary thing and would pass sooner or later, especially since he enjoyed flying itself so much. Afterwards, he was usually too tired and sore to do much more than wash up, eat, and sleep, before the day started all over again. After the first two or three days of this, Jen gradually stopped escorting him everywhere, trusting him to get to where he was supposed to be on his own. Which he did, of course - it never occurred to him to do anything else. Jen still checked in on him every evening, and he noticed that she seemed to be a little more worn out every day.

Things happened a little differently a week or two later though. The morning passed as usual - there was no sign of Jen, but he was used to that by now. However, when he arrived at the simulator room in the afternoon, Jen was waiting there with two people he'd never seen before. He halted in surprise and took a moment to look them over. They were dressed like he was, in plain tan overalls and combat boots, and were both about half a head shorter than him. Both were fairly lean and had black hair and bright blue eyes, but there the similarities between them ended. One was more muscular and practically radiated irrepressible energy as he fidgeted and shifted, almost always in motion. The other was built along more lithe, wiry lines, and seemed to be much calmer and quieter than his energetic companion, looking around with a steady, inquisitive gaze.

Jen smiled when she spotted him enter, though he noted she still looked tired as she gestured him over. "There you are. I want you to meet..." She faltered for a moment, then shook her head slightly and continued. "Your brothers. The two latest successes in this project."

As she spoke, both of them turned to regard him curiously. He nodded and smiled easily as he headed over to them. "Hello, both of you."

The more active one grinned cheerfully in reply. "Hi, oldtimer." Jen frowned disapprovingly, but the target of her disapproval didn't seem to notice or care.

The other newcomer smiled a little shyly and nodded in greeting. "Hello."

Jen gave up frowning and just rubbed at her face for a moment before looking back at the three of them. "Right. I want you two," she gestured at the two newcomers, "to follow his orders both in and out of the simulators, all right? He's in charge."

They both nodded, and the more active one tossed off a lazy salute, still grinning. "Follow the bossman's lead, gotchya."

Jen just sighed and shook her head, giving said 'bossman' an apologetic look. "I hate to dump this on you so suddenly, but I have other work to do now as well. Just run them through the same exercises you've been doing in the simulators, then head back to your quarters. They can pick their own rooms there."

He gave Jen a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, I can take care of it." He paused, then added, "Try to get some rest soon, all right?"

She just gave him a somewhat harried smile, then pointed an admonishing finger at the active newcomer. "Behave." And with that, she hurried off.

He raised an eyebrow at that, then looked back at his two new charges. "Dare I ask?"

"Probably not," the quieter one sighed. "It might be better for your sanity that way."

The active one snickered, then planted his hands on his hips, his weight cocked over one leg as he eyed his new commander curiously. "So, if you're the bossman, what does that make us? Minions?"

"Lackeys?" his companion suggested helpfully. "Sidekicks?"

He paused for a moment to eye them both, then smiled faintly. "Wingmen," he replied with a firm nod. "I get the feeling we'll be working together a lot. You," he pointed to the quieter of the pair, "are wingman one, and you," he shifted to point at the other, "are wingman two."

One nodded in quiet approval, while Two laughed. "Reduced to a mere number," he mourned theatrically with a shake of his head and let out an exaggerated sigh. "And not even the top number at that."

"Better than 'hey, you'," One pointed out with a faint smile, then tilted his head to eye their commander thoughtfully. "I suppose that would make you wingleader?"

He paused, then nodded. "That works. Now that we've sorted that out, let's get started, mm?" He gestured for them both to head to one of the three simulators that stood with their hatches open.

They apparently knew just as instinctively what to do as he had, and after a moment's confusion when they both tried to head to the same simulator, they got themselves sorted out and strapped in. Once they were both settled and the hatches to their modules were hissing shut, Lead entered his own simulator and quickly settled himself in with the ease of practice.

A minute later, he was standing once again in the simulation's now-familiar airstrip, except this time two more mechs were standing nearby. Or rather, one was standing, looking around with quiet interest. The other was pacing in a circle, flexing its hands and looking skywards. It wasn't hard to tell which one was which. He then realised, for the first time and with a bit of surprise, that the mechs actually had faces - and fairly expressive ones at that, not just plain metal masks as he'd previously assumed.

He had to suppress a laugh when Timothy's voice spoke up in their ears and his two wingmen visibly startled at it. "Are you all ready to begin?" Timothy asked, a touch of weariness in his tone. Apparently he'd been working just as hard as Jen was.

"Wing One, all clear," came the quiet response.

"Wing Two, ready and rarin'!" There was no mistaking the enthusiasm in that reply.

"Wing Lead, good to go." He smiled faintly to himself, amused at how easily the three of them had fallen into their assumed roles.

Timothy sounded a little bemused when he spoke up next. "Uh. Right. We'll start with the easy stuff, then work on up from there. Lead, you talk them through it."

"Roger that." He looked over at his charges, then gestured towards the hangars and surrounding airfield and spoke aloud instead of through the comms. "Targets should be up now. Scan for them and take them out."

Two was quick to bring his weapons online, One following suit a moment after. He watched with interest as the pair moved in tandem, one going right while the other went left. Between them they made short work of the available targets, though he noticed they already had very different styles. Two tended to pepper the target with a flurry of blasts, while One moved more deliberately, aiming precisely and not wasting any shots.

"Nice work," Timothy spoke up once the last target had fallen and lay smoking on the ground.

"That was way too easy," Two said cheerfully as he and One jogged back to where they'd started from. "How 'bout something with a bit more challenge?"

Before Timothy could say anything, Lead spoke up. "I agree," he stated. "Let's skip the simple moving targets and go straight for the ones that fight back."

"Are you sure?" Timothy spoke up, sounding a little dubious.

"I believe they can handle it," Lead replied confidently. Two cheered in the background at the prospect of a proper fight, while One just let out a faint sigh and checked over his weapon.

"All right then," Timothy said. "Sending out the ground drones. Have fun, boys."

As their scanners sprang to life, warning them of incoming hostiles, Lead stepped back and out of the way, speaking out loud instead of over the comms. "All right, we have ground troops with range and melee capabilities. I'll let you two decide the best way to handle them. Just take it easy and be careful," he added in warning. "You -will- still feel any damage you've taken once you're out of the simulators."

One chuckled quietly, keeping a watchful eye on the approaching enemies. "Speaking from experience, Lead?"

"Oh yes. Definitely," he replied with feeling. "Lots of experience."

"Ahh relax, bossman," Two said with confidence. "We can take whatever gets thrown at us." With that, he let out a whoop and charged, his arm cannon blazing. One sighed, then took off after him, hanging back and off to one side to cover his wingman's back and carefully pick off any enemies that were left standing.

The charge had apparently taken the enemy by surprise, as those who weren't initially cut down scattered in several directions. They were quick to regroup again though and were soon returning fire, forcing the pair to take cover amongst the hangar buildings. Lead watched with interest, wondering how they were going to handle the situation. He didn't want to interfere just yet.

He saw the pair confer briefly as they crouched behind a hangar, then One carefully leaned out around the corner and laid down a barrage of coverfire. Two took a short run-up before leaping upwards and transforming mid-air. The jet hovered for a moment on its afterburners, then the engines kicked in and shot it upwards with a roar. Once it was safely airborne, One ducked back behind the building while Two gained altitude, then dove towards the drones in a strafing run. One took the opportunity to become airborne then as well, quickly dropping into position just off Two's wing. The pair then proceeded to repeatedly strafe the ground targets, moving neatly in near-unison as they dove, climbed and banked around for each run, weaving and rolling to avoid incoming fire.

In a few minutes, the drones had all been wiped out, and the pair swooped in to transform and land nearby. One hovered in place for a moment before touching down gently, while Two just dropped, tucked and rolled back up to his feet with a bounce and a grin. "Well, that was fun and exciting," he commented cheerfully, absently brushing a bit of char off his arm where a blast had grazed him. He looked to be sporting several more hits and grazes, but they didn't seem to bother him much.

One looked somewhat better off since he hadn't borne the brunt of the return fire, though he had a few marks of his own. "You have a strange idea of fun," he commented mildly, to which Two just grinned.

Lead just shook his head, though he couldn't quite keep the amusement out of his voice when he spoke. "An interesting demonstration," he commented lightly. "At least you're both still in one piece." One looked a little sheepish, while Two just kept grinning unabashedly. "You worked well together though, and picked up on things pretty quickly. Good job."

The pair looked pleased, and then Two spoke up again. "It just felt... natural, y'know? Especially the flying. Like we were meant t'be up there, not stuck down here on the ground." He shifted his weight from foot to foot and glanced upwards, as One nodded in quiet agreement. "So, can we get back up there again, or are we supposed t'be doing something else now?"

Lead paused, tilting his head slightly to one side as he waited for some word from Timothy, but there was a conspicuous silence. He hesitated a moment, then shrugged and smiled faintly. "It doesn't seem so. You might as well test out your wings properly." He'd barely gotten the words out before Two let out a whoop of joy and took a few steps backwards to give himself room, then hurled himself up into the sky. One gave Lead a brief smile, then quickly followed suit, and the two jets raced each other upwards in a spiralling climb.

He shaded his face with one hand as he tilted his head back to watch them, still smiling faintly. There was just something so joyful and carefree about flying, and it showed in their every movement. He did privately wonder about what might have happened to Timothy, but after a few minutes, he couldn't resist any longer. He quickly kicked himself up into the air with a flare of his afterburners, transforming and taking off after the others. As long as he reminded himself fiercely that this was just a simulation, and he had something else to focus on, he could mostly forget about the ground that was getting further and further away below him.

...

"Damn, damn, damn!" Jen swore and thumped the computer console, making Timothy flinch. "I can't believe we lost another one!" She ran a hand back over her hair, lines of stress and weariness gathering at the corners of her eyes, emphasised by the shadows cast by the dim blue lights in the room.

Timothy didn't look much better, but he managed to keep from swearing. "At least we still have the next two, right?" he pointed out, trying to soothe his colleague. "And we can get some more started soon."

Jen sighed and slumped, leaning against the wall beside the computer. "I know," she replied wearily. "I just hate losing them in the first place, and I hate not knowing -why-, and not being able to stop it happening." As soon as she'd seen the warning signs on the life support monitors, she'd called Timothy in away from the simulators in an effort to save the failing system. It had quickly cascaded out of control though, and now the next bioengineered soldier was little more than a floating mass of dead meat. "Damn it all, Mark's not going to be happy about this. You know how much he wants us to churn them out quickly, quickly."

"I know, I know," Timothy muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Still, he ought to be grateful for the ones we -do- have so far. Given how little progress we were making before, I think we're doing pretty damn well now, this latest loss notwithstanding."

"Try pointing that out to him," Jen said cynically, pinching at the bridge of her nose. "Bloody hell. I'd better clean this up and let him know, and you'd better get back to the simulators before something -else- goes wrong."

"The sim- oh, sod it all." Apparently Timothy had forgotten about the trio he'd left in the simulators. He gave Jen an apologetic look, then rushed out of the room.

Jen watched him go, then reluctantly went about cleaning up the latest failure, putting off having to go tell Mark about it for as long as possible.

...

"Ow, ow, ow."

Lead suppressed a grin as he watched Two gingerly extricate himself from the simulator module's harness, wincing with nearly every movement. "I did warn you," he commented mildly.

Two paused, blinked, then grinned cheekily over at Lead. "That you did. Nothing like learning from experience though, right?" He stretched and started pacing, working out the kinks.

"An interesting experience at that, too," One added quietly as he carefully emerged from his own simulator, looking thoughtful. "I can understand still feeling the hits from our mech's corresponding limbs, but... still feeling it in parts we don't even -have- now is just plain weird." He rolled his shoulders and grimaced slightly - he'd taken a rather nasty hit to one wing near the end of the exercises.

"It'll be gone by morning," Lead assured them. "Our brains just need time to catch up and realise it's not actually our bodies that got hurt." He scrutinised the pair carefully, then added, "Let me know if you have anything more than aches though, all right?"

"Will do, bossman," Two replied with another grin and a lazy salute. He rocked back and forth on his heels and looked around. "So, what now?"

"Now..." Lead hesitated for a moment. Timothy had sounded awfully distracted and stressed by the time he'd spoken up again in the simulators, but he hadn't said why he'd disappeared and had just run through the rest of the simulator as normal. He wondered if it had anything to do with the work Jen was doing, but now wasn't the time to speculate. "Now, we head back to our quarters. I'll show you around, get you both settled in, and then we take it easy and relax for a while."

They nodded, and Two gestured grandly with one arm towards the door. "Lead the way, oh fearless leader."