A/N
And I'm back!
With another in-between chapter...
Woohoo...?
Believe it or not (considering my recent track record) but I have begun writing the multiple battle chapters that are soon to come. But now I must deal with the "intermission", so to speak, and better set up the characters/equipment which will become important later.
How have I been, you ask? My life is a nightmare of schedules, but I'll manage and I'll keep on chugging...
Anyways. One of most favorite equipment pieces from the early chapters of this story is making its return. It's been hinted, it's been teased... and I'm excited to start incorporating it into this story again.
IMO, it's also the best class in the game, don't me.
Chapter 75…
Ashley's eyes narrowed in on her target…
Sitting twenty feet away, perched on a small shipping container, was a glass whiskey bottle. Ashley had sourced the round container from the massive mess in her room; and after dumping out its stale contents had repurposed it for her current task.
Gently flexing her left forearm, Ashley felt her muscles tense against leather straps and metal safety restraints. The dark haired woman straightened her arm and held it out in front of her, curling her fingers into a fist and tightening her shoulder in preparation for what was to come.
'Five, four, three, two…' Ashley silently counted down in her head.
'One!'
There was the screeching sound of cables sliding against metal as a barbed hook shot out from the top of the contraption on Ashley's arm. The cable following the barbed hook unfurled and stretched at high-speed, producing an audible "whirring" noise as it extended out to its full length.
Ashley watched, dismayed, as the head of her new grappling hook flew wide. It missed the glass bottle by nearly a foot and impacted the floor of the cargo bay with a dull-sounding smash.
'Goddammit…'
Grumbling to herself in frustration, Ashley knelt down on one knee and flexed her left forearm. She used her right hand to fiddle with the components of the bracer. After a few moments Ashley found and pressed the button to retract the cable. With a metallic screech, the length of the cable neatly retracted and coiled up inside the bracer casing.
Grabbing the hook itself, Ashley gave it a cautionary wiggle to make sure that it hadn't locked up. The hook consisted of a magnet and four sharp razor sharp prongs. When fired, the prongs extended outwards, forming large hooks that dug into the intended target. The magnet in the middle of the hook would give Ashley extra support on some metallic surfaces; and with deft use, it could be used to grab appropriately sized objects.
Shaking her left arm and relaxing her muscles, Ashley stood back up and readied herself for another try. She tried her best to match her position during the prior attempt, flexing her muscles and holding her arm out straight as she aimed for the glass bottle.
'Five, four, three, two…' Ashley cleared her throat and narrowed her eyes at her target. 'One!'
Once again, the hook shot out from the bracer at high speed. Once again the hook flew wide and came to a smashing stop behind the glass bottle…
"Fuck!"
Once again retracting the hook, Ashley breathed out a frustrated sigh as she readied herself for another attempt.
'Is it my breathing…?'
It could have been the issue. Ashley's slow breathing technique had always been a part of her marksmanship… so would a grappling hook be any different?
Clearing her throat, Ashley peered through the video feed of her helmet and readjusted her arm. Locking her elbow straight, the dark haired woman gazed down the length of her arm much like how she would gaze down the sights of a rifle.
'Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…'
Cool air drifted through the freshly-cleaned filters of Ashley's helmet and circulated inside her lungs…
'Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…'
Her mind was clear, her target in sight… so she fired the hook.
It went wide again.
The bottle wobbled from the sudden change in air pressure but did not fall… as if it was mocking Ashley for her repeated failures…
"Fuck!" Ashley loudly exclaimed. "Every single time!"
Retracting the hook, Ashley tore off the bracer and let it clatter to the floor. She tucked her hands behind her helmeted head in frustration, her fingers squeezing the metal exterior of the headgear. Ashley, encouraged by her growing frustrations, tore off her helmet and let it fall away from her hands; the sudden motion ruined her neatly tied bun, scattering her dark hair into her eyes.
Ignoring her breathing techniques, Ashley sank to the floor and rested on her knees.
Her new grappling hook, quietly (and unofficially) purchased just hours before from the ship's armory, was different from the one she had back during her time with the IMC. After a quick read through of the manual Ashley had been confident in her abilities to operate the device…
…or so she thought.
Something was off about the firing mechanism. Perhaps it required calibration or perhaps it was just defective…
…either way, Ashley wasn't going to go to bed until that whiskey bottle was thoroughly smashed.
There was probably more to Ashley's new piece of equipment than met the eye. Despite its older software, Ashley's helmet was compatible with the device. But her HUD flashed with indecipherable warning messages every time she fired the hook.
'A software issue maybe…?' Ashley thought to herself. Titans she could figure out, with some time and effort; but the internal workings of the grappling hook were a mystery to the dark haired woman.
Taking a deep breath, Ashley picked up the discarded bracer and began removing pieces of the casing. The grappling hook was surprisingly easy to disassemble, with multiple markings across the casing indicating what needed to be manipulated or articulated. With a slight grunt of exertion Ashley flipped up the long metal lid which hid the delicate internal mechanisms of the firing system.
Of course, Ashley had no idea what she was looking at…
The thin cable was neatly wrapped around its spool, save for the small part attached to the back of the hook. The cable was neatly balanced between several small arches. Beyond this was an intricate web of blinking circuitry which Ashley did not know the purpose of; most likely it was for interfacing with her helmet, but until she had the chance to pry it all apart she could only guess…
Ashley tentatively probed the insides of the casing with her finger…
"That's a good way to lose your finger."
Snapping to attention, Ashley whirled around and tried to locate the speaker. She found him standing ten paces away, his slim shoulder leaning against a very large shipping crate. It was Serjenko, the pilot she had briefly interacted with back on Lyra-1. He observed Ashley with dark, critical eyes.
"Pardon?" Ashley asked, her finger still hovering just a few inches away from the casing.
"If you wiggle your finger into there it's going to get caught," Serjenko informed. "Trust me, I know all too well."
The man lifted up his left hand and wiggled his fingers. His pointer finger was missing the very tip.
"Ouch."
"Yeah," Serjenko nodded. "Here, give it to me."
Frowning to herself, Ashley stood up and tentatively handed over the piece of equipment. Serjenko, closing the distance between himself and Ashley, accepted the grappler into his hand. The man visibly fiddled with the small metal digits that the cable was balanced on.
"This is a bit of an older model," Serjenko remarked as he wiggled the metal digits.
"That's probably why my helmet recognized it," Ashley gestured to her headgear.
"Probably," Serjenko gently shrugged, his dark eyes locked on the inside of the grappler's casing. "I used to have a model like this before I upgraded to a newer one."
"You use one too?"
"I have for a long time," Serjenko nodded. "These older ones will serve you fine though. They're a bit more mechanical in nature. Less computer, more manual. With regular maintenance they'll never give you any trouble."
"So you say," Ashley pointed to the untouched whiskey bottle. "I haven't been able to hit that thing all day. The hook keeps on flying wide."
"That's because you didn't properly calibrate the inside of the casing," Serjenko spoke in response, his nimble fingers still fiddling with the grappler's moving parts. "Newer models can recalibrate on the fly. But these older ones occasionally need a manual adjustment."
"Oh."
"It's like sighting a rifle…" Serjenko peered into the casing. "If the sights are off you'll never hit your target. Sure, you can adjust your aim to the margin of error, but you'd be better off just fixing the mistake."
"Okay-"
"And… done!" Serjenko cleared his throat, removing his fingers from the pinching interior of the grappler. "Give it a try now."
Ashley gratefully accepted the grappler back from the man. Taking a few moments to put the exterior parts of the casing back on, the woman slipped the device back onto her forearm. After retrieving her bulky helmet and reconnecting it to the device, Ashley extended her arm and took aim.
'Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…'
Squeezing her open hand into a fist, Ashley fired the hook. There was a metallic screech as the barbed hook sprang from the casing, the cable whirring as it extended behind. With a satisfying crack the whiskey bottle was reduced to glass splinters - a significant chunk of the bottle's bottom clattering to the floor, still intact.
'That's right, fuck you!' Ashley silently sneered underneath her helmet. It felt satisfying to finally destroy the bottle.
"Not bad, you have experience with these I take it?" Serjenko nodded.
"I used to have one, but it was a newer model," Ashley nodded her helmeted head, flexing her left arm as she did so. "It feels good to have one again."
"Yeah, once you have one in your kit it's hard to imagine going without," Serjenko chuckled, even offering Ashley the smallest of smiles. "Hold on a second."
The man broke off from where he was standing and walked up to the shattered remains of the whiskey bottle. Crouching down, Serjenko gently pinched the intact bottom of the bottle between his fingers.
"What are you doing?" Ashley asked as she retracted the hook.
"Have you ever gone skeet shooting?"
"No. But I understand the basics."
"Good!" Serjenko nodded. "Ready?"
"Uh-"
Without another word, Serjenko flicked his arm and spun the shattered bottom of the bottle up into the air.
Ashley narrowed her eyes in concentration, the world around her moving slower as she zeroed in on the spinning glass chunk.
'Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…'
The dark haired woman fired the grappler again, the barbed teeth of the hook extending in preparation for the inevitable impact. With an ear-shattering smash the remains of the whiskey bottle was reduced to even smaller splinters.
"Wow! You really do know your way around a grappler!"
"Like I said, I used to have one," Ashley retracted the hook, feeling justifiably smug after a day full of bitter failures. "It was surprisingly easy to use."
"They're a lot more ergonomic than they look," Serjenko nodded in agreement as he approached Ashley.
Ashley tore her gaze away from her left forearm and peered up at the man studying her. This was the first time she and Serjenko had ever properly spoken; he was almost a stranger, but his help had been appreciated.
"Thanks for the help," Ashley wiggled the grappler on her forearm. "You saved me a lot of trouble."
"Some problems are actually a lot simpler than they appear," Serjenko shrugged, gently cocking his head to one side. "If it gives you trouble again just let me know."
For a moment, the two settled into silence. Not knowing what to do, Ashley gently reached up and removed her helmet, setting the piece of gear down at her feet.
"So…" Serjenko cleared his throat. "You too?"
"Hm?" Ashley looked up, the tips of her fingers still grazing against the surface of ehr helmet.
"Don't act so nonchalant about it," Serjenko chuckled.
"About what?"
"The mission…?" Serjenko muttered, offering Ashley a quizzical look. "Just a few hours ago you and I agreed to jump into a planetary storm…"
"Oh…" Ashley frowned. "Right, that…"
Another silence settled over the two mercenaries.
"What about it?" Ashley cocked her head. "Having second thoughts? I wouldn't blame you… and I don't think anyone else would either."
"No, I made my choice," Serjenko gently shrugged. "You?"
Ashley gently shook her head. "No…"
"Why'd you put your name down?"
Ashley, taken aback by the question, viewed Serjenko with a look of confusion.
"It'll sound shallow…" Ashley frowned. "But-"
"Was it the big pile of credits being offered?" Serjenko interrupted.
"Bingo."
"Retirement money?"
"A significant chunk of it will be…" Ashley once again examined her new grappler. "This thing right here just burned a large whole in my wallet…"
"Nothing good comes cheap," Serjenko chuckled. "It's boring, I know, but my motivation for taking the job isn't all that different. Money makes the world go round, as the old saying goes…"
"Yeah," Ashley frowned and lowered her left arm.
"I don't suppose you've ever jumped into a planetary storm before?"
"No. But jumps from high-altitudes? Plenty of times, but I'm sure that you and I have that in common," Ashley shook her head. "But this mission is going to be something else."
"This might sound strange, but I wasn't surprised when I saw you write your name down on that paper."
"Hmm?" Ashley cocked her head in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Serjenko fell silent for a long moment, an uncomfortable look briefly flashing across his features.
"Barker's company is pretty small…" Serjenko explained. "So naturally, we tend to be close knit. Newcomers can take a long time to really fit in with the Angel City Elites. That, and we all talk… recently a lot of that talk has been about you, Ishikara."
"Huh?"
"No offence," Serjenko gestured with one hand. "But you're a bit of an oddball."
"I keep to myself…" Ashley frowned.
"Exactly, which ironically makes you stand out," Serjenko nodded. "Granted, you haven't been here long. But you did pass the initiation with flying colours… and just about everybody was pretty impressed with how you handled yourself on that last mission."
"I never realised I was the subject of gossip…"
"You managed to trip a Legion titan - right after you disabled its cannon," Serjenko muttered. "Picking a fight with a titan like that is already insane, but you managing to pull it off makes you a legend, Ishikara."
"Just another day at the office."
"Funny," Serjenko cracked a small smile. "Or how you handled the explosives down in the caverns? Even Val was impressed."
"I don't really know what to say…" Ashley cleared her throat. "I just did what I thought was needed."
"Are you trying to be humble? Or snide?" Serjenko gave Ashley a curious look.
"At this point, even I don't know."
"Alright," Serjenko waved his hand dismissively. "Well, let's just say that people are talking about you. For the most part they're saying good things about you."
"That's nice…?"
"And I'm sure that they would have even better things to say if you got out of your room once in a while," Serjenko continued. "You were pretty fun at the party yesterday… once you had a few shots in you."
"I barely remember any of it," Ashley frowned. "Scratch that, I remember none of it."
"It was wild," Serjenko grinned. "Parties like that aren't too uncommon with us though. Will you tag along for the next one?"
"I-" Ashley hesitated. "Sure…?"
"Good," Serjenko nodded. Falling silent, the man quietly rubbed his hands together in contemplation. "Well, if that grappler gives you any more trouble, just let me know."
"Thanks, Serjenko."
"Felix is fine."
"Alright, thanks Felix," Ashley gently shook the man's hand. "Call me whatever you prefer, I guess."
"Beast?"
Ashley applied more force to Serjenko's hand.
"Not that."
"Message received," Serjenko wrenched his hand away from Ashley's deathgrip. "See you around."
Offering Ashley a mock salute, Serjenko wandered out of Ashley's sight. Ashley waited for his back foot to disappear behind one of the shipping crates before she turned her attention back to her grappler.
She had just agreed to be more social… in a rather roundabout way…
Frowning to herself, Ashley slipped her helmet back on and extended her left arm again…
