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ELeven [11] - Hum

ELeven [11] - Hum

Seven sighed, the debrief had been brutal. He wasn't sure if his actions had excited the companies or put them off. Akira's stance was set in stone, and Lady Faye was clearly unhappy. She would have survived at the cost of her ruined mech, but the mission had been accomplished. He knew he owed her an apology, but right now he thought it was better to give her some space.

Restless, Seven scanned through the base network, activating a playlist in an attempt to relax. But the tension in his mind persisted. Seeking distraction, he decided to "wander the halls" virtually, idly exploring the base. Eventually, he found himself drawn to the room that had been transformed into a makeshift pilots lounge, enticed by the sound of conversation.

Inside, he encountered a group of pilots engaged in a lively discussion.

“Honestly, at this rate, I wonder why he doesn't just go independent," remarked a dark-haired pilot, Machine God.

Karma, blonde and handsome, countered, "No one can afford to go independent. Do you have any idea how much maintaining a ground crew costs for a normal mech, let alone a prototype?"

“Yeah, but if things stay as they are, he's probably going to get chopped up for research. Best-case scenario, Vision Group or Armstrong buy in, and he's got what, five? Ten years at best? If he goes independent, at least he can promise his remains to the highest bidder," added another pilot, Stormborn.

"Then he'll have everyone who lost out gunning for him for the rest of his very short life," Vortex’s animated interjection making her dark curls bounce with each syllable.

Machine God chimed in, "Will that be much different from where it's headed anyway? For all we know, this time next week, the suits will have us at each other's throats."

“Ain’t that the truth," Karma responded sarcastically. "Suits like losing even less than we do."

“Plus, it's not like Calypso would just stand by and watch their investment walk off. How would he pay them off? I doubt he has that kind of contract with them," the other man pressed on with his musings, not bothering to take in a word anyone else says.

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Scratching the back of his head, Karma, also consumed with his own thoughts, continued, "I don't know, man — I just feel sorry for him, you know? The guy has been doing his best to show off, but it won’t mean anything. He's still going to be thrown into the corporate grinder. He's too valuable to let live. In a way, he's done his job too well. Can you imagine if those scum at Akira get hold of him? They'll dissect his tech and torture him for all those redacted details in those files."

Nagware, small and frail looking, finally spoke up, "You should know by now, no one gets out. It doesn't matter how good you are. We're just lucky we haven't had a corpo war. We get to sit pretty in our suits making big cash on missions. The only way we are in real danger is if we get double-booked. Even then, most corps don't want to risk us."

Vortex pointed out, "Yeah, but you heard about Mystic."

“Oh, please, Mystic was complacent, and we all know Reaper is a freak. The kid can't accept that he couldn't break into the top ten like he was meant to, so he had to knock someone off. I bet he got a grilling for it back at base," the opportunity to add his opinion enough to pull Machine God’s focus.

Even Karma finally paid attention and asked, "Any idea what his c-rank is these days?"

"Hell no, that shit is always rubbish pooled by net junkies anyway. Every pilot knows those ranks are based on mission performance, and we almost never fight each other, so it's all meaningless. This Seven guy has been running Black-Ops missions under the radar for who knows how long. All that overpriced tech would beat any of us in a fight," Machine God was, once again, quick to give his opinion.

A pause fell over the conversation as the pilots became lost in their thoughts.

“If he’s even human."

"You think Akira has a point?"

"I don't know, man — who can move like that? No one."

"And AI can't adapt like that. That's why we don't give 'em mechs."

"Normal AI, sure, but S-rank AI? That sentient stuff from way back..."

"S-rank or not, it never had to control a mech like that. Even with his insane seat time, an AI would still be short on hours to pull off shit like that."

Barely waiting for each other to finish before pronouncing their own beliefs, the pilots drowned each other out. Not wanting to deal with the over-inflated egos anymore, Seven backed away and continued wandering through the base.