Alright, I'm going to apologise right off the bat here. First, I'm not super confident in my background knowledge of the Battletech world, so If I mess anything up I'm sorry. Second, this has been a guilty pleasure project, but I really need to work on projects that might actually be successful and/or profitable. So I won't be able to spend much time on this, as fun as it is. In any case, I hope all those reading this enjoy it and review to your heart's content.
The Ride up to the Argo was… uncomfortable, and not just physically, the leopard bumped and jostled the whole lot of them the whole way up. Not only was her bottom a mass of bruises, but the tension in the dropship's air could have been carved with a spoon.
Saytr and The High Lady sat on opposite sides of the small crew seating room. Neither ever seemed to be looking in the other's direction while the other could see. Olivai sat in the centre of the room, strapped in with a rig of padded steel bars that held her shoulders tight to the cushioned seat. Olivai didn't know how Behemoth knew of her discomfort, Olivai was sure she'd kept her face perfectly smooth. Behemoth laughed, sitting beside her.
"First time flying?"
Olivai shook her head. The ship bounced in the upper atmosphere and her head rattled between the bars. She'd had to hop across half the Reach to get to Coromodir. "It's n-n-never been this r-r-rough be-e-efo-ore-e".
Behemoth threw her head back and laughed, her red hair swirling. the ride smoothed out considerably. "She's not a commercial liner, but she gets the job done."
Glitch snorted on Olivai's other side. "Better than the Federated Suns Prison ships, let me tell you."
Olivai looked at Glitch, The senior members of the Golden Hand were all rather mysterious figures, very little was known about any of them before they appeared in the Restoration War. Olivai looked back at Behemoth questioningly and the larger woman shook her head slightly. Don't ask.
"Preparing docking procedures." A smooth voice, a man's, rang metallically through the dropship's PA.
"Sumire isn't piloting?" Olivai asked, looking around. "I thought she did all the piloting around here?"
"Sumire isn't flying these days." Glitch said matter of factly. "She wants to, but none of us will let her in her condition."
"Something happened to her? What?" Olivai looked around, slightly frantic, Sumire Meyer is one of the best pilots around, Olivai had considered becoming a pilot after seeing a holovid of the Hand's dropship expertly pick up a lance during a firefight.
Glitch opened her mouth to continue, but Behemoth reached over and clamped her hand over Glitch's mouth.
"What did we say about telling other people's secrets?"
"Zhhad eyae shoodn dho et?" Glitch said behind behemoth's hand, a dangerous glint in her eyes.
"Exactly" Behemoth withdrew her hand quickly, evidently expecting the bite that followed. Glitch rubbed her chin and worked her jaw in circles.
"Sumire is fine." Behemoth said flatly. "Just taking some time off."
Olivai didn't need anyone to shake their head at her to know not to pursue that avenue of discussion.
A leaden silence settled over the room as the final docking procedures were carried out with military precision. Whoever they'd gotten to replace Sumire was good.
As soon as a deep Kachunk echoed through the hull of the dropship, Saytr was on his feet and striding purposefully through the airlock into the Argo and disappearing with only a "report to Yang, in the mech bay, girl," to Olivai as he walked by.
"I know where Yang would be…" Olivai muttered, working on getting her safety cage to unlatch. Glitch was standing, stretching up on her tiptoes and Behemoth unlatched hers with one quick motion, a single punch to the centre of the rig. When Olivai tried nothing happened. One by one the other filed out, leaving her behind. "Behemoth?" Olivai called out, but the red-haired woman was already gone. Sweat popped out on her forehead and anxiety bloomed in her belly. A tide of heat flooded her cheeks as she continued to struggle with the latch.
"Would you like some help?"
Olivai looked up to see High-Lady Kamea Arano look down at her with a warm expression.
"Oh! Uh, your Majesty! N-No, I'm just…" She tried to look casual, as if she was exactly where she wished to be, a performance she was sure was ruined by the intense heat pouring into her face. Had they turned up the furnace?
"Lady Arano is fine," The Lady said, reaching out to press on the exact same spot Olivai had been pounding on for the last several minutes. "There is a particular trick to this old tub's rigs," she said. "You just have to press the right place and-"
The rig popped up off Olivai and she leapt to stand, breathing heavy. Olivai glanced at her saviour. Her eyes widened, she was meeting a High-Lady's eyes! Olivai hurriedly bowed, bending nearly double. "Thank you, My Lady!"
A pair of smooth hands. Smooth, but strong. Grasped Olivai's shoulders and guided her to stand straight.
"I will accept nothing from you." Lady Arano said. "You saved my life back on Coromidir,"
Olivai shifted her feet, looking down. "I didn't do much, didn't even take anyone down."
"Never be ashamed of not killing someone." Lady Arano's eyes held a smouldering, earthen flame behind them. "Death and killing are facts of life on the periphery, but to trivialize it, or glorify it, is a mistake." Something else glimmered behind those eyes now. Regret? Pain? Olivai couldn't believe either could exist in such a woman.
"Yes, my Lady." Olivai made to bow again but Lady Arano caught her.
"That's enough of the bowing. We're not in court. If you bow every time you see me you're likely to strike your skull off the bulkheads." Lady Arano said wryly. "Come, let us enter the Argo proper." Lady Arano gestured for Olivai to lead, and Olivai took a few hesitant steps. Her hands seized around the plain pistol.
Ca-lack. Her boot on the deck. She was there, on the Argo. A ship of legend.
It was quite plain looking, actually. Lady Arano stepped passed her and smiled. "Until we meet again, Olivai." Olivai watched the shorter woman, disappear down the left hallway. It was hard to realize a woman so powerful was actually quite short, she carried herself like she could look down on anyone around her.
Olivai looked around her, in awe. The halls were stark, plain metal, they didn't look at all like they belonged on a Lostech ship that had turned the tide of a war. Right, Olivai thought, the Mech bay. Olivai looked, left, down a nondescript hall, then right, down another equally nondescript hall.
"...crap."
Olivai walked through the Argo, head swivelling, trying to look in every direction at once. The crew was surprisingly sparse for a ship this size. In over an hour of searching, she only saw a handful of engineers and deckhands. Most were on duty, heads in their work or moving with such purpose that Olivai dared not bother them, but when she passed the library she saw maybe half a dozen men women sitting reading. The Games room was empty, and Olivai didn't go into the pool, but as she passed the closed door, she did hear someone, a female someone, giggle, followed by a distinctly masculine chuckle from. Olivai's mouth opened slightly in mild shock as she heard the next few moments that were going on inside the pool. When she heard another, definitely different, masculine voice mutter something, embarrassment fueled her steps to quickly take Olivai far away from the low gravity pool.
An exasperated voice came on over the PA system. "If anyone sees a girl wandering around the ship. Point her to the mech bay." Olivai looked around to see if someone would point her in the right direction, there was nobody. The pool was occupied, but the idea of interrupting to ask directions was... unthinkable.
"You're the newbie?" a caramel smooth voice asked.
"Ye- Olivai whipped around to see an olive-skinned, slender man with long, dark hair and her words faded. The young man before her was likely the most attractive man she had ever met.
"I'm Caius," the young man stuck out a smooth, perfect hand, apparently oblivious of his effect.
Olivai took the hand without thought. "Olivai…" she said absently. How could eyes be that blue? They were like sapphires wrapped in a brilliant summer sky...
"Hello?" Caius said, ducking to get into her line of sight. "I can take you to the mech bay if you'd like."
"Hm?" Olivai shook her head out of wherever it was. "Yes, you can take me." Her breath caught and she blushed furiously. "I-I-I mean I do need to go to the mech bay, yes." She cleared her throat. "Please."
Caius smiled a distracting smile and walked down the hall, thankfully away from the pool.
"So, uh, what do you do, Caius?" Olivai asked, trying to sound casual.
"I'm the pilot for the Leopard, now that Sumire is out of action."
"Oh, you were flying us up from Coromidir?" Olivai twirled a lock of short hair around her finger. "It was a very smooth ride." Father had always said there was a very thin line between flattery and dishonesty.
Caius smiled but didn't respond. The rest of the walk was spent in relative silence, with Olivai sneaking glances over at Caius whenever she thought he wasn't looking. Once he noticed her and his smile made Olivai swallow.
"Here we are," Caius said stopping in front of a large hatch that looked more at home in an industrial plant than a lostech ship. "Just head in and Chief Virtanen will take care of you."
"Thank you," Olivai said quietly. Caius just smiled that smile and took off. Walking in a way that made it seem like he was dancing.
"This is it." Olivai looked up at the door to the mech bay. The beginning of her new life. I wonder what my first mech will be? She stepped up to the door and it opened with a heavy Kchnk. A centurion? Orion? Maybe even an assault!
Olivai stepped into a giant room, plain steel made the floor and walls, and the ceiling rose high enough to overtop the tallest mech by half again it's height. A cacophony of sound and light blasted her, men and women shouting to each other over the din of welding, hammering, and the general upkeep necessary to maintain Battlemechs. Bright flashes of light glared at her from multiple directions as mechs were worked on. Olivai looked on in wonder.
"You!" Someone shouting drew her eyes as an ageing man with a prosthetic arm marched at her with a finger thrust at her like a weapon. "What are you doing wandering about my mech deck?" He flung a pair of coveralls at her without stopping his forced march. "I have seven things that need doing, and babysitting an airhead ain't one of them!"
Olivai caught the coveralls and opened her mouth to introduce herself-
"Nope, no time," Yang said, for it was Yang Virtanen, chief mechtech of the Golden Hand. Yang wrapped a hand around Olivai's shoulders and drew her down the mech deck until they stood in front of a Centurion, a heavy AC/10 ladened the right arm alongside a pair of medium lasers and Short Range Missiles on the torso, this close it was clear. This was the very same Centurion that saved her and the others on Coromidir.
Olivai looked up at Yang. "This is mine?"
Yang nodded. "It sure is. Your name?"
"Olivai."
Yang handed her a heavy hose. "That's Oli now, best get used to it." He said. "Now I need this cleaned in the next hour."
Olivai blinked, Oli? Cleaned? "Mechwarriors don't have to clean their mechs, do they?"
Yang grunted, "try and get those hotheads to do real work?" he shook his head and pointed to the coveralls. "Best put those on before you start, Glitch really ground that meat into the treads. Messy work, getting it out."
"But I'm… I'm supposed to be…"
Yang was already gone, shouting at someone that "just because you're an idiot doesn't mean you have to act like it."
Olivai glared at the coveralls in one hand and the hose in the other. "I didn't come all this way to be a mechtech grunt," she told herself. Olivai drew herself up. She was going to march up to Commander Saytr and demand that she be inducted as a Mechwarrior right this-
"Hey!" Yang bellowed down at her from a scaffold, halfway up the mech deck's walls. "57 minutes!"
"Yes, Chief!" Olivai said hurriedly, jamming her boots into the coveralls and hefting the hose.
She could go to Commander Saytr after she finished her work, she wanted to make a good impression on Yang, after all.
Olivai dropped the hose to the deck with a clunk and stepped back from the centurion, it's feet now… finally… clean. Yang appeared at her side, his metal hand on her shoulder.
"Good work," he said. He leaned over to the smaller mechbay terminal and pushed a button. With a mechanical whirl and grind, the Centurion was raised up ten feet off the deck, so the bottom of its feet, still caked with...remains… was accessible. "A good start, anyway," he said. "Back at it, Oli." He said loudly, marching off to the rest of his duties.
"Uhhhhgh" Olivai's head dropped back, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Olivai gasped, on the scaffolds above her, Saytr, Commander Uriel, marched along, head together with a dark-skinned man, Darius Oliveira, Olivai assumed. She opened her mouth to call to him-
"What have you done to it?!" Lady-Arano's voice pounded through the Mech Deck, silencing the entire workforce.
"I'm sorry?" Saytr said, his voice clear in the new quiet. "To what are you referring?"
"My Atlas, you've ruined it!" Arano said stubbornly.
"You mean my Atlas? The one you gave me?" Satyr clarified. "The 'mech I own and am free to do with what I wish?"
"That 'mech is priceless lostech" Lady Arano snapped, "It did not need any alterations"
"That thing cooked anyone who so much as thought of fighting in it!" Saytr snapped back. "I need mech's that can operate wherever I need them, Which means mounting weapons that don't give my mechwarriors heatstroke every deployment!"
"Glad to see you're still quick to discard that which isn't perfectly useful to you at the moment." Lady Arano said acidly. "Some things haven't changed." Everyone had long since stopped working to stare up at the pair.
Saytr didn't shout this time, but the silence in the Mechdeck was so complete his voice carried to every ear. "I'm not the one with a habit of throwing your things away." His eyes were sad, downcast. Lady Arano didn't seem to have anything to say to that. She turned on her heel and marched away.
Saytr seemed to look down from the scaffold at Olivai, and she heard Yang cleared his throat beside her. She hadn't noticed the Chief mechtech standing beside her, just as transfixed as the rest of them.
"Alright everybody, Back to work!" He barked. The cacophony resumed, but now a little warier. If you could wield a 30-pound sledgehammer while on eggshells, these mechtechs were the ones to do it.
"Oli," Yang said.
"Yes, Chief." Olivai picked the hose back up and grimly set to work.
"Uhhhhhhghhh," All the air wanted to leave Olivai at once as she collapsed on the couch in the Argo's expansive lounge. The lounge was slowly filling as the day shift all finished their duties. It felt like that air had been the only thing keeping Olivai upright. Her arms and legs were jelly, and she knew for a fact that she had drunk more water in the last hours than she had in the previous week, and not once had she had to use the bathroom. It seemed sweat was now her body's preferred method of removing water.
"Long day?" Behemoth flopped down on the couch beside her, looking disgustingly refreshed, with bright, clean skin and soft, brushed hair. Olivai cracked one eye open, a titanic effort, her eyelids seemed to be made of lead. "I didn't know that much work existed…" She mumbled. With a groan like an ageing pensioner with a bad back, Olivai hoisted herself to sit upright and immediately braced her elbows on her knees, holding her head up. "Behemoth, you have to tell Commander Uriel that I'm supposed to be a Mechwarrior," She said. "I'm not cut out to be a mech tech."
Behemoth arched an eyebrow at her. "You think Adris is going to entrust a multi-million C-bill machine to an untrained civilian he's met once?"
Olivai looked side to side warily. "...yes?" She said hopefully.
"He's not."
"Dammit" Olivai flopped back onto the couch, feeling very much like a balloon after it's stuck with a needle, or smashed repeatedly with a hammer.
"Look," Behemoth started, shifting on the couch so she looked Olivai straight in the eyes. "Almost all our mechwarriors started at the bottom. Either as a mechtech assistant, or a foot grunt, or something. He's not going to trust you until he knows how you react to stress and an overwhelming workload." Olivai listened. "The quickest way for you to get in the cockpit is to work your ass off in the mechbay and prove that you're worth taking seriously. And impress Yang," She chuckled lowly. "Which, unfortunately for you, isn't easy."
Olivai drew a deep breath, trying to inflate herself. "Thank you." she hissed through the fatigue. Olivai looked around and notice that the other personnel were avoiding them. A small bubble of space surrounded them. Most didn't look at either of them, and those that she caught could only be described as wary.
"Is something wrong with this couch?" Olivai pitched her voice low. "Everybody seems to be avoiding it."
Behemoth looked around with a wry look. "The couch is fine," she said, before ruefully adding. "I am not, generally, considered good company." She grinned and more than one of their onlookers flinched away.
"You seem ok to me," Olivai said, smiling.
"That's nice." Behemoth sounded like she was humouring a child. "But that's probably because I haven't punched you yet"
"Why would you punch me?"
Behemoth shrugged. "It usually happens for one reason or another," a lopsided grin gave her a wild look. "They always deserve it, though." Behemoth flopped down beside her. "You staying for the movie?" She asked.
"I think I need to sleep, for a week," Olivai said, rolling off the couch and staggering to her feet. She caught a whiff of herself. "And three showers," she said, wrinkling her nose.
"Yeah, you're pretty ripe," Behemoth waved her hand in front of her nose. "See ya, kid."
Olivai looked back at the lounge as she left. Behemoth remained alone on the couch. Lounging at her ease and completely uncaring of the air of unease around her.
Olivai walked through Alpha pod's hallways. Only a little lost, she knew that the crew quarters were in Alpha, just not exactly where in Alpha. Olivai turned a corner and was greeted with yet another hallway. She sighed and walked down it. It was short and ended with another hall running perpendicular. This hall was different, though. The walls were decorated with nearly a dozen small, black plaques that each bore two lines of script. Olivai stopped and read one. "Mohammed Benitez" then under it "Medusa". Olivai's fingers traced the second name, she recognized that one, it had been broadcast in a ceremony for the dead during the Restoration War.
"I see you've found our little hall of the dead." a man's voice interrupted Olivai's thoughts. She turned to see a pale, bald man with a beard limp towards her. The man stuck out a hand. "Amir Kowalski, but you might know me better as Dekker," he grinned as Olivai took his hand and shook it vigorously. "So you're Miranda's foundling?"
"Olivai," she said, only a touch breathless. She blinked. "Miranda?"
"Behemoth," Dekker said with a smirk. "But do yourself a favour and never say her name to her face." He thought for a moment. "Or her back, or side… anywhere in reach of her fists, really."
"She did say she was probably going to punch me," Olivai said with a small laugh.
"She likely will." Dekker said honestly, rubbed a spot on the side of his jaw in memory. "And you'll probably deserve it." He chuckled.
"She said that too."
"Did she?" Dekker's eyes took on an appraising glint as he looked her over. "Hm, I guess I can see it."
Olivai didn't have the foggiest idea on what he was talking about, but before she could ask, Dekker was already moving, limping passed her and pressing his fist onto Medusa's plaque as he went. "I just came by to say goodnight on my walk. Can't move it too well and she seizes right up if I don't take it for a spin." He rapped his knuckles on his right leg and it produced the unmistakable sound of metal muffled by cloth. "Lost more than a friend on Smithson." He waved behind him as he limped.
Smithson. The name burned in her memory. A line of 'mech standing between Directorate forces and their fragile ship. Rockets screaming, metal tearing-
"Oh." Dekker's voice jolted her out of her reverie. "If you're looking for the crew quarters, they're that way." He pointed the way he came. "On the other side of the mess."
Olivai raised a shaky hand. "Thanks," she said, turning to walk away, her mind awhirl. Medusa's plaque stared at her as she left the quiet hallway.
Olivai walked through the now quiet mess, dark and silent. Or it would have been.
"Ooooh, yeah, that's the stuff." A woman's voice, heavy with desire, filtered in through the kitchen doors. Olivai froze, heat rising to her cheeks. Was this place full of deviants?
"Just a little more…" Curiosity coloured her face further and Olivai took a step closer to the kitchen. She was a grown woman, after all, these things were normal, natural, even.
"Oh, yesssss, that's perfect."
Olivai inched the door open, carefully, quietly. She hesitantly peaked around the corner. Her eyes ready to snap shut in an instant.
A woman, fully clothed, thankfully, sat on one of the kitchen work tables, her belly rounded with a late pregnancy. To one side of her was an open jar of pickles, the other, peanut butter and chilli paste. Sumire Meyer gratefully, blissfully even, munched on her improvised late night snack, her eyes closed and her head tilted back.
"You're pregnant!" Olivai clapped her hands over her mouth as soon as the words left her mouth.
Sumire snapped her head down, fixing Olivai with an embarrassed glare. "What? Yes, of course." She looked around. "Just don't tell-"
"Sumire…" the navigator closed her eyes with a sigh as Darius stepped into the kitchen behind Olivai, who jumped. How did someone so big move so quietly?
"Hey!" Sumire snapped before Darius could get another word in. "I know I said I needed to watched what I ate, and I know we agreed that I'd follow the doctor's recommendations, and I know I said I would avoid eating after the day cycle." Sumire hopped down from the table and marched - well, tottered - over to Darius. "But you did this to me and it's all these hormones and not my fault so I expect you to take responsibility, dammit!" She finished her tirade standing nose to nose, or rather nose to chin, with Darius, pointing up at him with an accusatory finger.
Darius looked at Sumire, then over at the table with the pickles, peanut butter and chilli paste, then at Olivai, who waved, and finally back to Sumire.
A wide smile split his face to show sparkling teeth "Gods, I love you." He said. He laughed and pulled Sumire into an enveloping hug. Sumire wrapped her arms under his and squeezed him tight. Her own laughter bubbling up. The pair stood, wrapped in each other, laughing until Darius looked over at Olivai. "I apologise for my wife." He said richly. "You're Yang's newest, right? Oli?"
"Olivai," Olivai said, unable to keep a beaming smile from her face as she watched the couple. "You two look so cute together." She gushed finally.
"So I hear." Darius laughed. He extricated himself from Sumire and scooped up the ingredients from the table. "Now if you'll excuse us, I have a buffet to assemble. Goodnight, Oli" The two walked into the mess.
"It's Olivai…" She said into the now empty kitchen.
By the time Olivai stumbled into the crew quarters, all the beds were bunk bed style, in a cubicle with two lockers, it was well into the second shift, the night shift. The Argo runs 24 hours a day, and in the deep of space day and night mean little. Olivai eyed the communal shower room, nothing but showerheads on the walls, but her bed helpfully marked out with her name, called to her. She looked at the name, "Oli". She sighed and made a note to find a pen and add the rest later. For now, she only wanted one thing.
Olivai's sigh when she hit her mattress was completely different than the one from her misnaming. She only had the vaguest sensations of deflating before sleep rolled over her and the world fled into black.
The next morning, far, far too early, Olivai scurried out of the showers, wrapped securely in a towel that covered her from shoulders to knees, with a wide-eyed, stricken look of someone gone through a terrible ordeal. Olivai had not realised that the crew quarters were co-ed, which meant the communal showers were even more harrowing than she expected. Olivai flinched and kept her eyes looking anywhere but down as a young man padded out of the showers after her, completely at his ease. Heat suffused her face and Olivai hurried to her locker. She was in her work gear, heavy steel-toes and mechtech coveralls, and out of her quarters in a fraction of the time it normally took her to ready for the day. She marched out of the quarters, pulling her hair back into a short tail it was just long enough for.
Olivai walked into the mechbay right on time. The immense machines looming over her still made her feel tiny, but there was less of a sense of wonder than yesterday. Olivai had to suppress a wave of revulsion as she passed the Centurion, now utterly, perfectly clean. A small group of mechtechs sat in a semicircle around Chief, as Yang insisted they call him, and a screen showing a mech layout. Olivai sat next to a grizzled man, a few years older than herself. His long hair, surely longer than hers, was pulled back into a lazy bun, and he scratched noisily at what looked like a four-day beard as he pulled heavily on a large coffee mug, tiredly looking at Chief with half-lidded eyes.
"Hi," Olivai started, extending a hand. "I'm-"
"Oli," the man mumbled, nodding. "Chief told us."
"Olivai…" Her hand closed into a fist and her teeth clenched. What was so hard about an extra syllable? Olivai forced a smiled. "You are?"
The man pointed with the hand holding the coffee, "Listening."
"Alright, Shift Seven," Yang said. "In an hour we're going to be on our way into the Concordant. We've got a big contract and The Commander needs to refit for the mission." Yang turned to the screen and a pair of 'mechs, a King Crab and an Atlas, appeared.
"We're after an enemy lance in the polar region of a Concordant border world. "Commander wants to refit these two for maximum firepower. Heat will not be an issue, so we're remounting…" Olivai listened raptly, committing every detail to memory only sparing a glance for the man beside her. He didn't appear to be listening, he only blinked slowly and drank from his travel mug. Olivai frowned and returned to the briefing. She was going to show Saytr that she could be the best Mechtech they'd ever seen.
At the end of the briefing, Yang turned to Olivai. "Oli, training wheels are coming off, yesterday was an easy day for you, but today I'll have you shadowing a senior Mechtech so you can get a sense of how things are done." Olivai nodded sagely. Yang looked at the man beside her. "Mattias, you're her babysitter for the day." The grizzled man, Mattias, nodded mutely and stood. Olivai gaped, how was he a senior mechtech? He was barely older than she was! And obviously lazy to boot!
The work was backbreaking, Olivai found herself losing breath only a few hours into the day. Before they had even dismounted the Crab's weaponry. Who knew that mechtechs did so much work? It was even worse than the intense workload never once fazed Mattais. He quietly went about all their work with unchanging lack of intensity. Nothing was rushed, and everything was done when it was done. The King Crab was first, its dizzying array of weapons, centred around a pair of AC/10s and supported by a number of missile racks s and medium lasers, were to be replaced with two AC/20s, keeping the SRM6s and replacing the heatsinks with three extra tonnes of armour. The AC/10's were the first off. Mattias and Olivai sat on a pair of seats that hung from the Mechbay frame by long chains to work on the arms. Olivai hung over Matthias's shoulder and watched what he did. "First, secure the weapon," Mattias said. He used a small remote to manoeuvre a large magnetic clamp onto the arm. Once it was in place - a feat that took the man over twenty minutes! - Mattias lowered their seats to be level with the cannon. "Secure points are here, here, and here." Mattias' fingers roamed over the metal, pressing at three places. "But first, what comes next?" He looked over his shoulder at Olivai, looking like he hadn't slept in a week.
Olivai looked at the arm, frowning. "Well, we need to remove the armour so we can actually get at the interior." Olivai looked over and Mattias nodded. "Then we should…" she scratched her head.
"Ammo belts," Mattias said bluntly. "Don't want it exploding anything."
The obviousness of the answer burned. "Right." She said.
"Watch," was all Mattais said. He produced a welding torch from the seat and Olivai barely had time to place her goggles over her eyes before sparks began flying.
The armour panel was removed, carried up by another clamp once it was free of the mech. Mattias seized her chair and swung them both to the hole, close enough that they could stick their heads inside and see the 'mech's interior. He pointed out where the secure points were for the weapon, and the ammo belt that fed it from further up the arm.
Mattias showed her where the release for the belt was, and how to ratchet back the receiver for the massive rounds and return the remaining ammo in the belt to its cache. "Lasers are easier." He said, tiredly. He pointed to the secure points and pulled the cutting torch from her own seat. "Now you."
Olivai blinked, "You want me to cut it? Already?"
Mattias nodded.
"But I haven't had any training!" Olivai sputtered. "I can't do this, what if I cut the wrong thing and kills us? No, no no no it's better if you-" Mattias raised a finger to quiet her and pushed the torch into her hands.
"Like I showed you." He said. Olivai jumped as the torch clicked twice and a bright orange flame popped up around the nozzle. She tried not to hold it further away as Mattias turned a nozzle and the orange turned to virulent blue and the flame became a sharp spike of heat. Mattias made a cutting motion with his hand as if holding an imaginary knife. "Smooth. No hesitation."
The best Mechtech they've ever seen. Olivai set her teeth and firmly brought the flame to the metal.
The Mess' food was not gourmet by any standard, but Olivai dug in gratefully. Food had never tasted better. Her arms shook as she brought a glass of water to her lips. That cutting torch didn't seem heavy at first, but 5 hours of keeping it in just the right position to cut took its toll. The rest of Shift seven sat around her, eating and laughing like old friends.
"So Oli, Hows the mute?" One man said. A woman beside her chortled into her food.
"The mute?" Olivai asked. "You mean Mattias?"
"Did he even say one word to you?" the man asked. Olivai looked down the table, where Mattias had gone, alone, upon seeing the majority of the Shift sit around Olivai.
"He said a few," olivai said with a small laugh. "He isn't very talkative, though, is he?" Olivai looked around at her shiftmates. "What's his problem?"
"Nobody knows," the woman who chortled said. "He's been here longer than any of us. And as you found out, he's not exactly the sharing type."
Olivai nodded. "Is he always this lazy?"
That sent a round of chuckles through the table. "I wouldn't call Mattias lazy." another man said. "It's more like he just does everything at the same pace." he tapped his lips thoughtfully. "I don't think I've ever seen him make a mistake, even a small one. It's just
'rush-job' isn't in his vocabulary."
Olivai looked over at Mattias. He finished his food, got up and walked back towards the Mech deck. By the time Olivai and the rest of the shift returned from break, Mattias was already in one of the hoists, working.
By the time Olivai finished the day, the King Crab had been stripped of less than half of its weapons and equipment. The mechanical work was slow but was lighting quick compared to the painstaking and delicate electricals, that had to be completely rewired for the new weaponry. Not to mention the software updates... Olivai didn't even bother going to the lounge after her shift. She stumbled straight to the crew quarters and into the shower to wash off the sweat and grime of the day is blessed near privacy. Only one shower was in use and thankfully it was was a woman. Olivai ran her fingers through her hair and dipped her head under the shower stream. She laughed inwardly at how happy she was to be showering with only one other woman in the room. I'm too tired to be embarrassed, she thought. Weeks ago she wouldn't have even considered the possibility. Everything is temporary. It had one of her father's favourite sayings. She stripped off her coveralls and boots before climbing up to her bed on the top side, wearing a tank top and loose shorts.
As she closed her eyes, Olivai realized she hadn't seen Behemoth even once today. She idly wondered where she was but didn't get past the mere thought before sleep took her.
Olivai stood, back bent and held upright only by a knobby walking stick, in front of a centurion 'mech. Her white hair hung lank over her skull and her free hand held a cutting torch. Mattias, as young as ever and just as stoic, appeared beside her and pointed to the 'Mech.
"Remove the legs," he said, his voice cold and hard. "Learn to do it properly this time."
Olivai hobbled over to the mech and struggled to climb up onto the metal foot. It was hard to get purchase. Was it slippery?
Olivai looked down at the 'mech's foot and screamed. Blood slicked the metal like thick oil.
Glitch's voice boomed from the centurion,"You're next!" The foot rose and Olivai tumbled off onto the mech deck, her walking stick clattering away out of reach. Olivai struggled to stand, her legs couldn't seem to hold her. She turned over just in time to see the giant metal foot come down on her to stomp out the world.
Olivai jerked up out of her bed with a shriek. Her heart pounded in her chest and her breath came in huge gulps; sweat slicked her tank top to her skin. Her fingers went to her face and found smooth, young skin.
It was a dream. Right, she had just finished her second full day aboard The Argo. She was young, and a mechtech assistant. She hadn't wasted her life yet.
"Shut up, Oli!" Someone moaned. "Sleep!" A pillow hit her in the face with a dull whumph.
"It's Olivai." Olivai snapped under her breath. She sighed and flopped back down on the bed.
She stared up at the ceiling for a long time before she swung her feet over the edge and slipped down. She slipped on a pair of off-duty pants and her "civie" shoes before slipping out of the crew quarters.
Olivai squinted as the harsh hallway light pounded on her pupils. The "night cycle" wasn't truly dark. Just a moniker for the opposite of the "day" cycle when the more important of the crew was awake and about. Olivai didn't really know where she was going, just that she was going. She passed the Library, a vast store of books and reading stations. A number of mechtechs she recognised sat in a group and we're going over something together, but most were strangers to her, but she could tell who was reading what. The fellow sitting stiffly at a desk with a pair of reading data-pads was surely going over a manual or something official. While the woman who sat with her legs tucked under her in a plush chair and a small smile was reading for a pure joy of it.
Olivai made a note to check if they had some of her favourite books, but later, she wasn't in the mood to read.
As she approached the games room, she decided she was looking to see if Behemoth was still up. She seemed the type to stay up late, and it would be nice to see her friend. That note struck her. A new friend? Just like that? She'd never been a popular girl in her youth. Not a pariah, but making friends had not been her strong suit. It still isn't, she thought ruefully. But Behemoth was certainly her friend.
The games room had plenty of people in it. Plenty of loud people. But none of them was Behemoth. Olivai carried on, if she wasn't in the lounge, she must be asleep in her quarters. Olivai headed to the lounge, but stopped when she passed a room labelled "Simulation pods." She peaked in and found the room dark, and largely empty. One solitary pod was active, in the far corner. Its screens lit up and acting like a beacon.
"Godsdammit!" A muffled voice filtered out from the active pod. Olivai slipped into the room and headed to the active pod. Behemoth's face was displayed on the outside screen, alongside a screen that showed what was happening in the simulation, in real time, it seemed.
Behemoth was in a King Crab, fighting another King Crab that was in unfamiliar colours. The simulation was set in a small bowl valley, a pool of water in the middle. The Mechwarrior in the enemy 'mech spoke and Olivai gasped, she recognized that voice, she would anywhere.
Victoria Espinoza. Behemoth was fighting a simulated Victoria Espinoza.
Olivai watched as the two 100 tonne monsters battled it out. Brawling like a pair of wild beasts.
Espinoza's voice issued triumphantly. "I'll take you down Kamea, and your pretty mercenary too. Perhaps you will be my pet after this, Saytr after your current master is gone." Espinoza's mech got a lucky hit and blasted a hole in Behemoth's leg, the King Crab teetered, then fell. Olivai watched in horror as Victoria Espinoza mutely put an AC/20 round through the 'mech's cockpit.
Behemoth's boot crashed the pod's door open "Stupid, fuc-" she surged to her feet and slammed her fist into the wall. Olivai took a step back. "How did he do it?" She whispered.
"Was that Commander Saytr's simulation?" Olivai asked.
Behemoth snarled and spun around so quickly Olivai squeaked and took another step back.
The snarl dropped as fast as it appeared. "Olivai!" She said, clearing her throat. "I- uh - didn't see you there." Olivai was shocked to see red on Behemoth's face. Was she sick? "I'm sorry you saw that. I just get... frustrated when I can't figure out a problem." She sighed. "Yeah, it was. Adris was in the Crab during that mission, he took on Victoria" - she filled the name with scorn - "one on one. It was a hard fight."
"You weren't there?"
Another tide of red suffused Behemoth's face, she was definitely sick. Did she have a fever? She rubbed the back of her neck ruefully.
"I got laid up before this mission, spent it in the hospital," Behemoth said bitterly. "I lost friends on that mission, and I couldn't help them." Her laugh made her previous words seem summer sweet. "Turns out I couldn't have helped even if I was there."
"You can't compare yourself to commander Saytr," Olivai said firmly. "He's the best there is."
Behemoth laughed again, it held warmth this time. "You really see him like that, don't you?" Olivai frowned.
"Of course, that's how he is, right?" Behemoth's mirth burst out of her like a fountain, her head thrown back, filling the air.
"I really gotta take you and Adris drinking together, it will be… illuminating."
An idea bloomed in Olivai, it fueled a smiled that she was sure made her look an utter fool. "Can anyone use the simulators?"
Behemoth winced. "They're just for mech warriors, kiddo. Sorry."
"Oh…" the smiled died. How was she going to prove how good she could be?
Olivai didn't see the pain that flitted across Behemoth's face. She didn't see the conflict rage and battle to and fro. She only noticed when Behemoth sighed and made a decision. "Alright." She stared. "You can use my access pass-"
"Yes!" Olivai cried, leaping over to hug the woman. Olivai's head easily fit under the other woman's chin, she hadn't really noticed how tall she was, or how… solid she felt under her Mechwarrior gear. Behemoth pushed Olivai off her.
"Hold on!" She snapped. "I wasn't finished." She took a deep breath. "You can use my pass, but it's got to be done quietly. Deal?"
Olivai opened her mouth, already grinning as wide as humanly possible, but Behemoth put her finger to her lips. "Quietly." She reiterated.
Olivai snapped her mouth closed, it still twitched in attempts at a smile, and nodded. Olivai flung herself at Behemoth again in a tight embrace.
Held tight under her chin, Olivai didn't see a second thing. As Behemoth carefully, gently even, put her arms around Olivai and rested her cheek on the crown of Olivai's head, a soft, contented smile pass Behemoth's lips This was the smile of someone who had found something very precious, something worth protecting.
"This is the best day of my life!" Olivai said. Extracting herself from Behemoth. "I've got a best friend, I'm going to be a Mechwarrior, now all that's missing is a dashing man to sweep me off my feet and my life will be complete!"
Behemoth's face smoothed out as soon as they separated. She didn't show anything other than a companionable smile between friends. "Well don't look here," she joked. "The men here are all undateable if you ask me."
"We'll both find the perfect man!" Olivai said brightly. "We'll each have a fancy lord who'll give us anything we want and our lives will be perfect!"
"Alright, well we'll start training tomorrow." Behemoth said, only a little forcibly. "Now we both need some sleep."
The third and final thing that Olivai missed that night was how quickly that companionable smile dropped as soon as Olivai was out of sight. Behemoth sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "The hell are you doing Miri?" She asked the empty room.
The room had no answers.