A Rough Year Caught Between Sea and Sky

by nachttour

The planet Terra is a vital waypoint to both Alternian and Beforan trolls. Recently there has been an onslaught of giant naturae. To help deal this issue and others arising from it, the Inter-Impterial Task Force has been arranged, and the jaegers of the program sent out to deal with the threat. Both kids and trolls will be tested as they drift, battle and survive.

2. Chapter 2

A Rough Year, Caught Between Sea and Sky

Warnings: AU, Crossover, Zombies, Multiple Narrators, Clones, Non-Human Socialization, Parasitic Fungus

Tags: Crossover, Pacific Rim/Homestuck, All Hands on Deck, All Trolls, All Kids, Ancestors, Giant Robots, NoSBURB/SGRUB Session

Chapter Two: Wingless

[Aranea]

300 miles West of IITF : Terra, Sol System

Loom was not built for long sorties. The suit boasted armor that would forestall critical damage and little else. It would not take the crushing pressures of submersion. While not a succer, it hovered in a delightful fashion; the design intended to let them scout.

The kaiju that took down Lucky Strike shared key genetic markers with one previous that the suit had engaged with success. Rose Lalonde's question came to mind and Aranea tucked it away before Meenah grasped her chance to poke at it. Rose was a familiar fixture in her mind as of late. Meenah slid eyes over to her, waggling her brows.

"Got your eye on a human, 'Nea?"

"I think we should ought to dedicate our full efforts to the thing in front of us Meenah. We can talk about this later. When command deck does not have occulars and aurals on us?"

"Ain't nothing secret about having a crush, Serket. What way are you leaning? Girl better not be edging in on my quadrant, otherwise we are going to have words." Meenah huffed, glubbing out her cheeks even as her eyes tracked statistics and trajectory on her screens. The pair of them were flush and it was comfortable. Meenah could get irritating enough that they flipped pitch but it was an infrequent occurrence.

"She is not edging anywhere near me, I am afraid. I am interested in her as an intellectual equal. Perhaps, in time and given certain things, a pitchmate. But yet, I find that incredibly unlikely. Humans do not do blackrom with any sort of grace, in most cases."

In her periphery, she saw Meenah's expression relax. "Truer words were not spoken. All humans are, is over- delicate and pale-whores. That's it. And they live for approximately three seconds."

Jealous.

Meenah Peixes was jealous of some human girl.

A tiny part of Aranea crowed in delight. The rest of her paid attention to raising Loom's trident and finding the perfect angle of balance to deliver a blow. The kaiju in front of them was getting into their optimized area to aggress. This was not a good thing. Where in the abyssal plains of this planet's ocean was their backup? Some of the auxiliary aircraft hovered, providing covering fire at the kaiju's oculars when it rose. The problem was that it stayed underwater most of the time. Loom could hover, but it was a consumption of fuel and runtime to stay up and battle ready. Jaegers were tertiary, and any hovering that they did was not their primary function. If it was a succher, things would be a little different. A red light flashed at the edge of her screen and their eyes darted toward it. Finally. Acting like some douche hipsters arriving 'fashionably late' to a gala, their backup decided to show. Engaging the coms with a flick of her eyes to their window, she offered greetings.

"Hello Amporas. Took you a moment to get here. We have about thirty seconds before this gets ugly."

The younger, more accented voice answered. High Alternian possesed a distinct edge that Cronus did not speak with. The crisp and lofty sounds that came over the link dripped Eridan.

"Lining up a shot now. Ten seconds."

The water boiled and displaced as Poseidon Resplendent shot chains out. There was a sonic impact registered on Aranea's screens as the bladed ends sunk home into the kaiju's legs. Another notification signaled when the chains electrified and the beast briefly stopped moving as its limbs went numb from the shock. Little could stop the things when they got going – the only feasible options were brain-death or hacking them apart. Depending on the variant, some persisted in moving even when dissected. So then the further action of annihilating the nervous system had to occur. Protocol shifted to annihilation in most cases – faster and cleaner. Less fuel waste, less time consumed. Also they could take the corpses back which helped to feed the lusus population, and it did not attract the undead. Everything was about efficiency.

"That's at least something about Alternia that you like." Meenah voiced her thought, observing the effect of the strike on their target.

"Hmm."

Aranea took footage of the scene, logging dimensions and environmental effects for the teams back at base. They were trying to figure out the origin of the creatures so they could stop having to deal with them and business as usual could resume. So far there seemed to be no rhyme or reason as to where they came from or what they were. Their genetic makeup was different depending on the corpse. There was something akin to the lusus fluke in most of the corpses that research teams detected. That easily could be a false positive and unrelated. None of the naturae that had traveled with them had grown to the scale of the kaiju. And none of the Terra-lusus showed signs either. The fluke had been introduced into the systems when the first Alternians landed. The initial survey teams had run under the assumption that Terra might have become a good brood-planet.

Taking a slow breath in and out Aranea lifted her arms in tandem with Meenah, following the urges that came most naturally to her. Lift the 2x3dent precisely. Identify the opportunity, and then strike because chances rarely offer themselves a second time.

The creature wailed, jerking and struggling as blood seeped out around the prongs of the weapon. It was in pain but not dead yet. Meenah twisted their wrists artfully and Aranea could feel sinews and a chitin-like material grinding against her palms,, resisting. She found herself both angry and glad at this thing's imminent death. She had not been close to her name-mate. Vriska was many things that she would never be: some amazing and the rest undesirable. However, this ugly thing, possessing no art, strategy, or observable higher comprehensions had made her disappear. A death that was neither quick nor clean. Nothing that her culture would have deemed 'worthy'. Though, one could argue that her culture did not think much of death at all – all trolls were replaceable. As long as there were mothers, the most-fit would find their way through to victory.

It grated on Aranea that something so ugly and irritating had compromised the efficiency and cohesion of her team. Now they would have to reshuffle the human and troll configurations. There would be different jaeger pairs. Lucky Strike had been a volatile and powerful suit – without it she and Meenah would be out more often. Much as she loved the thrill of combat, surveying would be preferable. If they were surveying they would not be fighting.

"And I would be bored to tears starfish. Why would you even begin to wish that?" The rush of pleasure that came from first sliding into the pilot-frame skittered and danced over the satisfaction of hunting, the glee at being huge and the most powerful motherglubber anywhere near. It was a miasma of raw fighting desire that sat at odds with Aranea's daydreams of high seas piracy and artificially intelligent indexing systems.

"Why do you suppose?" It had nothing to do with how much she loved pressing her cheek into the severe curve of Meenah's neck, of the cool, smooth texture of her skin. Nothing to do with it, in fact.

Meenah chirped and brought their hands up to swing down again.

Poseidon Resplendent continued to drag at the kaiju as they worked on severing its spine. This was proving difficult as they needed to shuck layers of armored plating off. Between the pair of suits the creature finally registered as dead, laying prone on a reef. Coms picked up again, Cronus transmitting the second time.

"Looks like we got it honeygrubs. Wanna get a drink after?"

Aranea huffed. "No, but thank you Cronus. What I wish to do is get this thing loaded up and go back."

"I don't know why you never wanna do anything fun Serket. All I'm porpoisein' is a little bit of merrymaking. Mean, it was a bigass thing that we took-" Cronus abruptly cut and the coms channel went silent. At the same time their warning and proximity alarms flared to life. There was the second enemy, almost unrecognizable because it was smaller than the prior by half. It was also moving at about triple the previous kaiju's speed.

The first impact reminded Aranea a great deal of the time that her mom had stung her on accident. She had received warning stings once or twice for misbehavior. Having a scorpion mother was an exercise in pain. The inflamed scratches had seared along her skin and the thud of her tail shook the ground; something that still made Aranea nervous to think about. However, the only time that her lusus had ever hurt her truly was on accident. Thinking that she would be stealthy, she had startled her and the white weight of her tail had come down like a blur. Most of the following week was a blur, and only after the swelling stopped had she been able to think clearly again.

The second target was small. Small and completely submerged. Perhaps this was the one that had gotten Vriska, the other one intended to act as a living decoy. Jaws locked around her ankle and she screeched with the pain of it, hearing Meenah growling in tandem with her. They could deal with pain. Between the pair of them they could take it. It was not her leg (had her leg oh Sufferer has my leg biting through the meat gonna break the bone gonna- ) that it connected with. It was wire. Cold sweat stood out on her skin and Meenah was doing most of the moving. Her righteous terror of a matespirit would get them through this. Synch ratio warnings flashed around them like fireworks and Meenah pushed into her thoughts, cold precision and determination. Holding fast, holding tight, predatory. (You are mine girl we sail this ship together we sink together ain't no shit like that going to stop us. Gotta move starfish, brilliant girl, gotta move, know it hurts hurts us hurts me we can. Can win.)

Focusing on Meenah helped her outside of the context of her pain. The jaeger was pumping bodily terror into her to keep the Imperial equipment in good repair. As long as they did not go into shock, they would make it through this. They had to fight. Tilting her body at a severe angle to the right Aranea felt her ribs bump into her hip as they punched downward at the head of the thing attached to them. There was a resounding shake as their fist made contact. With some sort of a trajectory mapped they went for a second and a third strike, impacting soft cartilage and hearing the thing thrash in the water, mist obscuring purely visual contact.

Poseidon Resplendent was doing its level best to detach it, but the kaiju was clinging like a stubborn woofbeast, worrying at the captured limb, rows of sharp teeth set into the biomesh and circuitry. Loom shook again as Eridan and Cronus made bodily contact with the kaiju, slashing and clawing at it. The creature's multiple eyes fixed on the pilot's chamber and the middle of its torso heaved and twitched as if it were going to cough. Coughing never was a good sign. Wiggling more assertively Aranea scraped their claws across the beast's face, catching it's jaw in their hands and forcing it to stare to the side.

It squealed, enraged, biting at the wrist-joints of their suit. Not hard enough to engage severe physical consequence- only tingling shocks of warning pain. Aranea gritted her teeth hard and held. It was not going to cough acid onto their protective planes. At least they had it off of their leg. If they could find the right leverage they could throw the damn thing and regain ground so they could regroup. In her periphery Meenah was scanning through menus in double-time, trying to find something that they could use to change up their situation. The reality was that they did not have much at their disposal. They were not supposed to be melee, and in this close their trident was useless.

A window flashed open on their communal screen, Rose Lalonde appearing in the center with very focused operations staff peppering the background. "Good afternoon Pilots. This is an order from flight deck. You have clearance to disengage. Your suit is in danger of becoming inoperable. Help is en route. T-minus ninety seconds. Arbiter Majorus and Tempo Mortis incoming."

Aranea sent the confirmation for message received while Meenah radiated irritation. Shifting their weight they found a reef to brace against and flung the creature as far as they could - a middling distance as Poseidon reoriented itself toward its landing place. Cronus was the one that came over the coms this time.

"You ladies better head back." Serious enough not to fish-pun. Aranea almost had fallen under the mistaken impression that the boys cared about them. Cronus was a fellow Beforun and there was an element of solidarity there. Saving that one fact, they did not share much in common nor did she desire to have much to do with him. Still, he was being gentlemanly and she could realize and appreciate that fact.

"Thanks. Flight deck cleared us. Tempo and Arbiter are incoming. I can see them on the horizon line. You going to be okay for a moment?"

Eridan's voice cut through their conversation, irritated and focused. "Yes. Go. You are in the way."

Meenah bared her fangs at the console as if Eridan could see it, squaring out her shoulders like she would aggress. (Stupid shrimpy little minnow,. Thinks he's something big like Dualscar. Doesn't know what pants-shitting-terror looks like. Thinks he's worth the time to even try and get around his fuckugly hair-)Aranea thought over her, replacing the images of claws and bristled out fins with other things. Sparring practice and the scent of their bunk and quiet. (I know you hate him, I know I know. But I don't want to auspice for you. Not the right time. Not the right place. Don't get angry. Need your help. Need your focus. Please concentrate.) Meenah heaved a heavy, long sigh and their synch ratios lined up more completely. Aranea nodded. In the moments that it had taken them to sort that out she had taken the liberty of stepping them back, further out of the active zone.

The sleek red body of Tempo Mortis blasted by them, spray misting up as the slender suit angled in and started hacking down into the water, lances hooked into long fingers. Aranea had always admired their sister unit. The Megidos were terrors. Two of the base's biggest black-studs and day and night from each other, Aradia and Damara seemed an unlikely pairing. However, they were Alternian military, and that side of operations did not care about inter-pilot relationships It cared solely for achievements. They could achieve, of that there was no doubt.

Side-stepping a plume of pressurized kaiju blood, she and Meenah grinned, listening to half-feral purrs over the coms. The second backup unit boxed in the creature from the opposite side, forming a triangle with Poseidon still submerged at the other corner.

Arbiter functioned primarily as a support-jaeger. One of the suits that had been considered for human-troll teams but had not yet had tech upgrades. Aranea felt that the adaption would be a better course of action. The pilot Pyrope would be a much better fit with the pilot Crocker than Egbert, particularly given the recent and very gruesome death of his driftmate. Both Jane and Terezi shared totalitarian views on what constituted 'right and wrong', were inquisitive, bright, and thorough.

For now it was Jane and John, a force-assisted hammer held lightly between their hands. The Amporas could deal with the creature if it swum, and the Megidos could deal with it head on. The humans would deal with any movements in-between. Their job was concluded.

Flight deck patched through again, one of the more impatient deployment staff delivering the announcement.

"Loom, you are in-process of disengaging correct? Transport barge is two miles to the south-east. Go."

Meenah answered, calm and collected where Aranea was beginning to become annoyed given all of the incoming requests and the lingering pain radiating up her leg. Redirecting their remaining fuel resources toward hovering she got the jaeger up into the air and connected to the small buzzing fleet of assisting aircraft. They could not lift a suit on their own, but they helped with the use of energy when a suit had been fighting for a long period of time. An ETA countdown flashed up in the corner and Aranea closed her eyes briefly, listening to the odd register of Meenah's out-of-water speaking voice. "Loom confirms and acknowledges. Heading in and back to hangar."

Pillars of water and blood erupted behind them, but it was no longer their problem. Noting atmospheric distortions that the pilot Harley had been monitoring she pointed cameras at them until they disappeared. Intervals between three and thirty seconds. Showing primarily on temperature gradient scans, rather than visual or other mediums. Having performed their job to the pinnacle of their ability Aranea let herself relax in the harness. Their feet touched deck and locked into the anchoring mechanisms of the barge. Locking equipment engaged along the jaeger's structure to allow it to sway with the movement of the water and boat, but otherwise remain in a fixed position. Sliding her hand over in silence she felt Meenah's knuckles nudge along hers and then their fingers laced.

[ Dave ]

IITF HQ

The halls heading to med-bay always reminded him of being very small. Jade stuck out a hand at his side and laced her fingers with Dave's, wordlessly comforting. Every time that he had walked this stretch of hallway- featuring exactly fifteen doorways, one supply closet, and a ding in the wall from where an adult's horns had scored the plaster- it meant pain. He would feel pain, he was escorting one of his injured genetic-redundancies, or he would be in pain soon. Jade peeked at him and tickled her forefinger over the scars on his knuckles. "Bet it's a relief not to be the one on a stretcher, huh?"

"Pfft. Like I get a stretcher. You know the rules. If you are physically able, you are walking into med. If they find out that you could have been and you weren't?" Dave let the sentence hang.

Jade shook her head, a small frown hovering at the corners of her mouth. They rounded the corner with their steps in-synch, Jade showing solidarity through similarity. "That's only when the Alternian staff is on-shift. Just try not to get hurt when they're on."

"Scheduling are a bunch of bulge-chomping sadists who started randomizing shift-rotation in the name of 'fairness'. Before they did that I had the cadence down perfect! The most senior and highest-caste trolls only worked a couple of days and then the competent midbloods worked on fixed days around them. It was good, y'know? And then one of the stupid Beforun assistants – don't give me that look – I know it was one of them. You ever heard an Alternian make noises about fairness? Yeah, that's what I thought."

Jade rolled her eyes at him, an Dave kept on, undeterred.

"Someone complained to a cohort-mate and now we have this joyous clusterfuck. You never know when it's safe to get into med, there is that huge blue who seems incapable of facial expressions constantly doing the non-trauma examinations and it's impossible to get painkillers. "

Ranting under his breath, Dave squeezed back hard against Jade's hand; he was nervous and hated this section of the base. Both of them had clear memories of the whites of David's eyes flashing as he bit down on the inside of his cheek to prevent screaming about the bone sticking out of his arm inches above his elbow. Or of the time Dirk had suffered an electrical burn from working inside of one of the suits- the way that his skin bubbled at the point of contact and how his whole body had spasmed. Luckily the charge had not been fatal, but he still had weird texture near the point of contact from that accident. The wing always smelled like antiseptic, with the faint undertone of troll blood.

Passing their ID cards through the scanners, one of the assistants looked up and nodded. "Pilots. How may we assist you?" He seemed reasonable enough, a midblood with gently sloping horns and a quiet voice. The cadence of his claws on his tabet-interface was relaxed. Happily he did not seem to be in the foul mood that some of the staff perpetually marinated in.

"We wanted to request visitation time with the pilot Nitram if he is in a state to receive us?" Jade handled the request, being generally less inclined to mumble and more personable.

Flicking a claw along his screen, the troll looked over several reports. "He is highly medicated at the moment, but you may see him. Limit your interaction to ten minutes or less. Do not be alarmed if he exhibits issues in short term memory. This is a side-effect of his medicine and nothing to be concerned over."

Jade bobbed her head, flashing a warm grin at him. Dave saw her reign in the expression, carefully not to flash too many teeth. It meant different things to smile wide between trolls and humans. It was just a thing that you got used to after a while. Most of the others never smiled beyond controlled, close-mouthed upward curves of their lips. Jade could not be pressed to give a shit about xeno-social customs and smiled at everyone equally—doofy teeth and all.

"You got it. Thank you very much for your help. Is he that way?" Following the line of her pointed finger, the assistant assented, returning to his duties. There were no marks on his uniform denoting nursing medtorturer training, so it was likely he was solely here to interface with the public. Dave appreciated that; it meant that there were no tranquilizer guns or anything else lurking in his modus. The trip to Tavros' room went quickly, head forward, eyes down. Some of the med staff working had corded limbs and visible facial scars. Alternian staff. Goddamnit.

Tavros had been arranged on his front, body carefully cushioned. Most of his back lay exposed. His hips were covered in sheets that had the distinct tang of sopor to them. Long lines began at his shoulders and continued toward the mid-line of his back, inflamed and angry looking. They had been medically glued and sutured; but, they seemed grossly anomalous. It was hard for Dave to conceive of jaeger-damage that would result in such neat and surgical injuries. The wounds seemed too precise to be accidental damage. Snagging his chart, Jade scanned down it, face slowly contorting into distress. "What the fuck?"

Dave pressed over her shoulder, reading as well. The usual things were noted toward the beginning of the report, dermal gels applied, quick dunk in the rapid healing tank, some contusions addressed. All of this explained away the smattering of bruises on his forearms and sides.

Then there was surgery to remove 'problematic tissue'. Tavros' warm eyes were blearily aimed at them. Wiggling his foreclaws weakly, he smiled.

"Uhm, hi guys. I... I am not so sure why it is … that you are in my room. But. I am happy that you are, that is... not that you are in the med bay, but visiting me. No one really wants to be here."

The longer that Dave stared at Tavros' back the more ominous he felt. Moving down through the details of the report that were both foreign and difficult for him to parse. Medical troll language was even more difficult than regular dialects. However, in carefully scanning the details a picture slowly assembled itself.

They removed tendons, did some bone-shaving and shaping, and removed other structures. Tavros would have been winged. The word was conspicuously absent; but the anatomical adjustments made sense. Jade's experience overlaid his. She spent weeks at a time snuggled up with older texts, learning troll anatomy and other quirks of biology of the other species. Before she qualified as a pilot candidate, she had hoped to go into the sciences. One of the things they had allowed her to read on was biodiversity within the species. There were several sub-types of trolls. The soldiers that had made first contact, the drones, and the breeding mothers. Sometimes there was a little bit of bleedover in the gene expression between soldiers and drones. Some drones were a touch more cognizant than their fellows. Some trolls had different internal structure and expressed drone-traits. Being winged was a cull-worthy offense on the Alternian side. The logic behind that had never been terribly clear to Dave. Jade explained that it had something to do with Homeworld and at that point he had stopped listening entirely. Anything to do with 'Homeworld' had nothing to do with him and he could care less about it. Still, it was something that had been in their school-feeds. No wings. Wings were a bad idea.

The reasoning behind Tavros piloting clarified itself. As an asset to the Alternian empire he was less likely to be killed. One of his medical practitioners did not want him to die horribly and had mislabeled all of the shenanigans that went on with his back as trauma-necessitated adjustments. It must have been someone highblooded enough to deter questions who signed off on it and everyone went on their merry way. Tavros had an anonymous benefactor in medical. Grubfucking shit. Putting the chart back where Jade had found it he stepped back and left Jade to her inspection of charts and readouts.

His taurus-buddy was eying him curiously. "Dave, uh, you have … a very... strange look. Are... you okay?" The medication was not helping the halting cadence of his voice at all. Jegus burning. Taking a knee next to him so that Tavros did not have to strain to see, or attempt to turn his head with his massive rack, Dave patted his arm. It was ineffectual and awkward and he did not know what else to do beyond flagrantly lying. "Everything's chill, bro. Just scoping out your back. They did some work on you."

Tavros made a soft noise, eyes closing for several long moments. "Yeah."

Jade joined Dave, leaning in against his side so that their shoulders touched. "Tavros, you gonna be okay?"

"I...don't feel...anything at all."

The yellows of his eyes were all Dave could see from the angle he knelt at. Blinking to clear his vision, Tavros focused on them again. "I know... that Rufioh is dead. And...I should...maybe... feel something? But...I don't..." Closing his eyes again Tavros pressed his face against the pillow of his bed.

Generally speaking they put trolls in medical-cupes for this kind of shit. Why this was different was beyond Dave. Maybe it had something to do with the nature of his injury. More than likely it had to do with the color of his blood, and the fact that they did not care of he injured himself further thrashing from dayterrors.

A small lusus fluttered down from the lighting structures above them and landed on Tavros' shoulder, stamping a delicate forehoof and pointing horns at them. Dave had to snort in order not to laugh. The little thing was so small he could probably break the whole of its body with his hand. Still, it loved Tavros and Dave was not going to judge that.

"Tin-ker...ssst-op." The slurring hiss of Tavros' voice broke Dave's contemplation.

"It's cool dude. Is that your lusus?"

Tavros grunted in response. Humans did not get lusus. They had a group-jade caretaker for their agemates and sometimes some older groupmates that were friendly. The grunt seemed to be of the agreeable variety so Dave offered his hand out to the small bull and was rammed in response. Sucking on his skin where its horns had pierced he huffed out in irritation. Typical of everything related to trolls- mean and bloody. Jade squeezed him around the waist and smiled. "He's tired. C'mon. Let's go."

What either of them had honestly expected to gain from that, Dave was not terribly sure. Tavros was someone that they knew in passing. It seemed like the right thing to do, though. At least they had been able to hole up with John, watch stupid videos and lay on him while he shook. When he woke up during the day in distress one of them had been there to curl up in the bunk with him until he stopped shaking. Tavros had no one that they knew of. They were just humans, but any friends were better than no friends at all.

Jade adjusted the blankets around his waist and resettled his pillows around him. "Good night, Tavros. Troll us if you need anything, okay?"

The rust smiled slowly, his silly fangs peeking out against the dark tint of his lips. It had been about ten minutes – Dave was good with time, and Jade was right.

"Bye dude. Rest up. We'll slam battle when you can think in straight lines again."

Tavros curled his claws into the bedding and slept.

[Dirk]

IITF HQ – Hangar

The beautiful thing about being slaves of an advanced civilization was the technology that came with their conquerors. Paired with that which already existed, Dirk was able to do science in a way that his genetic-predecessors could never have conceived of. Granted, they probably could not have begun to fathom that their world would be colonized by bipedal-insectoids, or any of the things that happened after the trolls had come to Terra.

Certainly they did not have projection equipment that tracked the position of the operator's eyes. Several graphs rearranged themselves when Dirk shifted his attention to a different wall, flicking his hand to dismiss one entirely. Spinning slowly in a circle where he stood on a centralized grid-point, data scrolled down walls, projected from his center-point to fan out and be more easily observed and compared. The side space to the engineering offices had been outfitted with blank, white walls so that schematics and other things could be enlarged and viewed outside of the chaos of the main workspaces.

Lucky Strike's data currently scrolled by. Late in the morning the suit had been recovered and black-box data as well as external reports were starting to filter in. The pilot Serket's body had not been recovered. There was a fractional chance that she might still be alive somewhere. The more likely scenario was that naturae or Terra's indigenous life had consumed the corpse. Consumption was a part of life. So much so that it was an imperial motto.

Noting and flagging various weak points and issues with the suit, Dirk gnawed on his bottom-lip, something that Jane nagged him for incessantly. Mechanical error was not to blame. The systems and parts that had failed did so at known stress points. All of the backup systems and support systems had come online at the correct times. There were a few tweaks that could be made to the pilots' contact-suits. The refining adjustments he and Equius had designed had not performed to the level the Head Engineer calculations. Further refinement would be necessary.

If they were to upgrade Arbiter Majorus, all known issues would have to be addressed. Vriska had boasted her recklessness – to the point where she could not keep a stable moirail. And John had a mischievous streak as wide as the Milky Way that glittered above them. Their temperaments were directly linked to their failure, as far as he was concerned. The loss of one suit could be written off. The loss of several would mean trouble for everyone on the engineering floor – shit had a tendency to roll downhill steeply. Thus they would have to present the closest thing they could manage to mechanical perfection.

Taking a deep breath he forced himself to still as someone stepped into the doorway behind him. The footfall was not one of his teammates; there were not many other humans on the engineering floor to begin with, and thus logic dictated it was likely a troll. Flexing his fingers gently, he continued to shuffle his menus, double-checking data. In less than a second he could have his heavy-duty spanner in hand and ready to swing. So long as it was a troll under a blue there was even a chance he would buy enough time to get his sword.

The troll that joined him at his left side fit the under-blue criteria but did not necessitate a sword. Nepeta Leijon at some point had decided that he was all right. Being all right in Nepeta's book was not a bad thing to be at all, given her propensity to gut trolls as a consequence to insult. Tucking her hands against her thorax she watched the screens in silence.

"Thank you for fixing us today."

"It's my job." Dirk found Nepeta to be more personable than most of the Alternian staff he interacted with.

"Doesn't mean that I can't be polite." Nepeta turned and smiled at him, eyes intensely green in the harsh base-lighting. "You always do good work. Me and Fefurry appreciate you. There's a bit of a joke with us pilots that you are in a poly-diamond with all of the suits. You're a good 'rail. The only one that they like as much as you is my 'rail. I don't wanna share."

Dirk inclined his head. "I suppose that you could say that also. I prefer to do a good job. It's important to me. I want to keep you all safe. And I like it when things that I build work right."

Nepeta observed the screens a while longer before pointing at a graph hovering in the corner. "That synch ratio doesn't work." The playful cadence of her voice had smoothed out into thoughtful consideration. "In theory we can operate like that for a long time. But in theory most trolls can hyper-extend their joints. Just because you can doesn't mean that you should."

Idly rubbing at his wrist, Dirk nodded. "Would something more like this work?" Changing his predictive model, he and Hal shifted the calibrations to the next logical iteration. Nepeta nodded her approval. "Purr-fect. Allows us to be fierce but doesn't amp up feelings of paranoia or stress. Also some of the chemicals that mix in for that working state give me dry-mouth." Winking at him, she nodded. He always wanted to take a playful swipe at her dangling blue tail but he had yet to work up the nerve.

"I think I will let you get back to your work. Just wanted to see what you are planning. And I wanted to tell you that I don't want a human partner." Apparently this issue was serious enough to warrant a lack of punning.

Dirk raised his eyebrow at her. "Do you mind if I ask why?" Trolls had a variety of reasons to be xenophobic, but he had not pegged Nepeta as the sort.

She tilted her head at him, curls flirting with the corners of her mouth. "I would scare them too much. It would be no fun at all. We could not be fast and strong and hunt together. I think it's kind of the same reason that Rose Lalonde is not allowed to be a pilot." Giggling at him she turned and took her leave, leaving Dirk reeling. There had been speculation that Nepeta might make a good teammate for a human partner, however her argument against such a pairing was not without merit. There were reasons that Rose could not drift with anyone, and perhaps those same reasons applied to others as well.

The silence did not last. Equius' footfalls were a tempo Dirk memorized long prior. Blinking in a set cadence the graphs rearranged themselves yet again into a slideshow and he turned and nodded a welcome to his superior.

"Head Engineer."

Waving off the formality Equius stepped past Dirk and into the circle where optimal viewing occurred. "Did Nepeta discuss her concerns with you?"

"She did, and I adjusted the calibrations accordingly." Pulling a comprehensive overview to the forefront he glanced up at Equius. "It wasn't our side of things. That is not an excuse. It's just fact. It was the Egbert-Serket combo that caused the event-cascade leading to the fatal issues."

Equius grunted, reviewing the data from behind his tinted lenses. There were various hangar-legends about the reasons for their omnipresence. Some asserted that Equius was a huge clandestine rust. Dirk thought this was asinine; the blue cast to the bruises and scratches that he frequently acquired would have necessitated an obsessive dedication to concealer to further such a lie. Others said that he had bad eyes and they covered a point of weakness.

It was Dirk's personal belief that the head engineer simply did not enjoy bright lights save when welding. That seemed the most reasonable; coupled with the fact that he sometimes took standing naps leaning against the wall of the hangar. It put the fear of culling in the less-seasoned staff and put Equius in the right place to get right back to work from his nap.

"I would not disagree with that assessment. You did well in pulling out the annotated issues. I will look into them. We will proceed with the Arbiter overhaul."

Dirk nodded, swiping his dataset and bringing up a different overview for that suit. "These are some of the things that I am thinking of. Do you think that it is wise to go ahead with that?"

"No. I do not think that trolls and humans should drift." Equius' voice was clinical and calm, stating a fact rather than an emotionally driven argument. "However, I follow my orders. My orders are to change the jaegers and suchers that we are assigned to. These are the things that I will do to the best of my ability."

"I'll see you at dawn to start doing the fussy diagnostics and some of the delicate soldering."

The immense weight of Equius' arm landed on his shoulder. Dirk could feel his claw-tips lightly resting on top of the fabric of his uniform. He deeply respected his superior's thoughtful grace. Equius could punch through a door with no significant effort, so his delicacy with circuit-boards and fellow technicians was commendable. "Make sure that your nutritional and other needs are attended to. I do not want shoddy work."

Making sure that his body language agreed with how at ease he felt, he answered. "Of course. I do not do shoddy work." Clapping a hand to the small of the head engineer's back he stepped free, heading toward his office. A few more things needed tending to.

An overlay flashed in front the rest of the room, Hal demanding rather than requesting attention by blocking out other visual stimuli.

H.A.L: always lovely to see your paramour.

tT: i have no idea what you mean by that, and i think it's a strange word.

H.A.L: in my copious free time i have been studying etymology. it provides all sorts of useful nuance. you can make all sorts of elaborate inference just through the correct word choice.

tT: hmm. i did have a conception that you could. the head engineer is not my anything. i possess no quadrant aspirations, coupled with the fact that he generally dislikes humans.

H.A.L: pffft. did you see there? i just used an onomatopoeia to relate to you a sound that am forever incapable of making due to my lack of lips. that he is nothing to you is unlikely. your heart rate always raises upon his entrance into a room. particularly when he puts his hands behind his back. what are you thinking about when he does? i have a few ideas.

tT: i am thinking that he shows exquisite posture and decorum. nothing further.

H.A.L: uh huh.

tT: what are -you- thinking?

H.A.L: you know what i'm thinking because we truly are thinking the same thing. or we would be, had we been in the same period of hormonal development. instead our thoughts have diverged while mine remain painfully illogical and influenced by your bodily function.

tT: so sorry that i am not sorry at all. i do not wish to have relations with Equius.

H.A.L: i'm just saying that you want to tie him up until his thighs are glistening-slick with troll juice or genetic material or whatever it is that comes out of them and make him say your name. am i off base? certainly i do not wish to have genetic material anywhere near me. i cannot properly address its presence, much less function well in it. it would gum up my circuitry something fierce.

tT: likelihood that you are going to be forcibly rebooted is increasing with every second that this topic stretches on. my fingers are encroaching on the button.

Dirk glanced down at his hand and made a big show of progressively bringing his forefinger up to the corner of his glasses. Text scrolled rapidly across the midline of his vision, bolded and italicized.

H.A.L: really, really rude.

H.A.L: you know i'll just switch myself over to the tower. you can't delete me without four failsafes. why are you so sensitive about this subject?

tT: because it is not an appropriate nor desired topic. if you wanted to converse with me it should be about something relevant to our mutual survival. or our job. or something else of interest that could lead to a different sort of venture.

tT: not Equius' exquisitely muscular thighs.

H.A.L: incoming.

Saved from further speculation about his superior's thighs, Dirk turned his attention to a third person darkening his doorstep. John Egbert appeared to have slept for a handful of minutes from the time that his jaeger went down. Temporary grounding had done nothing to improve his affect. Fiddling with the sleeves of his uniform, John offered a half-smile.

"Hey. You busy?"

"Never too busy for you. What brings you to me?" While the pair of them were not quadranted, Dirk retained a gentle fondness for John, who was frequently an asshole and ridiculous in the same breadth of second, averaging out into sweetly exasperating.

"I think I just have a couple of questions. 'dunno even." Scrubbing at the back of his neck with a palm, John ran his eyes over the various scrolling statistics. "This, I mean, I know what the answer is but I gotta ask anyway-"

"Is there any chance that Vriska survived?" The flash of hope in John's eyes at the question was a little painful to observe.

"Maybe."

H.A.L: lying is not nice to do, dirk. the chance that she lived is so small that it is not even worth reporting...

tT: don't tell me what to say and do. he is sad. i am being comforting.

H.A.L: by lying?

tT: lies can be comforting when one is not ready to hear the truth.

Raising his eyes back up to John, he shrugged. "Granted, it should be understood that the likelihood she lived is very small. There were a lot of factors working against her."

"She's a survivor." John squared out his shoulders, watching Dirk with disquietingly blue eyes. It was not a pigment that frequently showed up in homo-sapiens, that particular intensity of hue. "If there is any chance at all, she found it and took it."

Perhaps it would be better that there were no chances to seize. Dirk felt this way, but did not vocalize it- sharing his thoughts to that effect would not be kind. "Almost nothing is impossible. Simply statistically improbable. I've been keeping an eye out for her suit tracker, just in case. You'll be the first to know if I can find her." Even if it was simply to retrieve a corpse, it likely would lend some closure to the whole affair. There was some mercy in that the drift cut before she possibly could have died.

Nodding decisively and bumping himself off of the wall that supported him during the conversation, John adjusted his jacket again. The pilot was perpetually fidgeting. Before Dirk had a chance to say his goodbyes, all of his screens blanked out and changed over, the system admin overriding all visual stations for an announcement.

Grinding his teeth at the distant Sollux, Dirk prepared to read whatever was so important that it superseded all other work.

'Attention all troll and non-troll personnel. We will be going through top-level inspection. Her Imperious Condescension-long and terrible may she reign – will be in-system in two Terran solar sweeps.'

H.A.L: well.

"Shit."