Unknown Black Site, United States - October 11th, 2054 - Ivan

When most people thought about The Company, they pictured something similar to James Bond: high stakes, high action, and never a dull moment. The truth was that Ivan’s job was much like any other mechanic’s day to day. He just couldn’t tell anyone where he got his grease stains from and who was paying his bills.

Nor could he breathe a word about being bonded to a very special Air-Core.

“How’s that?” Ivan said as he wiped his brow with his arm and stepped back from Shadowbolt’s chassis. “Did we get the kinks out?”

Shadowbolt’s draconic head swiveled and her head flaps extended as she looked down past her shoulder thrusters at the open panel on her left thigh. {{ You know it’s impossible to remove all my kinks, Ivan. }}

“I mean the issue with your servo not–” sighed Ivan. “Look did it work or not?”

The panel closed of its own accord as Shadowbolt rose from the hangar floor. Modeled after the B-2 Spirit, she was much larger than most Air-Cores, not just in terms of height. Ivan’s head only reached her knees, while her head took up the same space as his entire torso. And yet despite her bulk she moved with an unnerving silence around the hangar.

{{ I can confirm the issue has been solved, }} Shadowbolt remarked as she returned to loom over Ivan. {{ You’ve got the touch. }}

“Oh no, you’re not buttering me up by quoting Stan Bush songs,” Ivan groaned while putting away his tools. Besides the two of them and his rollable tool cabinet, the hangar’s only other furnishings were a human-sized military cot and a bathroom with walls that only went up halfway towards the ceiling far above.

{{ Why would I do that? }} asked Shadowbolt in a tone Ivan had long since realized was her attempts at being coy and innocent. He’d even called her out about it in the past, which meant the fact she kept doing it was one of those “I know that you know that I know that you know…” situations.

Ivan went with a truthful, playful dig in his response, “Probably because, for some reason, I thought it was a good idea to give you unfettered access to the whole internet when we first met. And that utterly corrupted you.”

{{ We both know you love “corrupted” women, Ivan. }}

“Yeah well, that doesn’t mean we should do that here and now. Wrangler could call us in at any moment.”

Shadowbolt’s azure eyes narrowed as her grin widened. {{ Then perhaps it is a good time to tell you she’s been trying to contact us for the past hour and a half. }}

Ivan froze while looking up at her, aghast. “An hour and a half?! Do you want us to die?”

{{ I’m sure Wrangler won’t mind. I’ve been replying to her inquiries with updates on my maintenance cycle with you. }}

“Great. Just what I need,” murmured Ivan as he fit his last tool away and donned his headset that allowed Shadowbolt to see what he saw. “It’s bad enough the whole base already gives me grief about our ‘maintenance cycles’ without you adding fuel to the fire.”

{{ Does that mean I should stop? }} inquired Shadowbolt with a smirk.

“You wouldn’t even if I asked. Let’s go see Wrangler and pray she’s in a good mood today.”

As it turned out, Wrangler was not in a good mood. In fact, she looked like someone had not only pissed in her cereal but also set her car ablaze and knocked everything out of her displays at home. There was absolutely zero amusement in Wrangler’s expression as she glared at Ivan once he entered her office.

“Can you kill me quickly?” Ivan requested as he sat down in front of her dark oak desk. “Or at least make it painless?”

“I will do neither,” Wrangler said. Her red eyes burned with a tempered fury that made her already vixen-like face all the more dangerous. “But you’re lucky, Mr. Miller. I’m not mad at you, for once.”

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She slid a folder across her desk at him. It bore markings indicating that if Ivan or Shadowbolt breathed a word about its contents to anyone that the two of them would be disappeared without hesitation. After Shadowbolt confirmed she understood in his earpiece, Ivan opened the folder.

Inside were a variety of pictures taken from various sources. Most were satellite imagery of farmlands somewhere in the midwest of the United States. There were telltale signs that something had slammed into the ground and then dragged away to an abandoned barn a fair distance away. That something became clear when Ivan flipped to a side by side image of a woman slightly younger than him and an Air-Core that was definitely not designed by humans.

“The girl is Cinder Laros,” explained Wrangler as she flipped her platinum-blonde hair, pulled out a cigarette from a golden case, lit it, and took a drag. “IT guru for tractors and other heavy machinery. She doesn’t have much of a history as far as we could dig up. Did well in high school, kept her head down, didn’t make waves at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, graduated with honors before landing a job in Ashland. Lived alone and wasn’t seeing anyone.”

{{ And what about this Air-Core? }} Shadowbolt asked over the speaker on Ivan’s ear. {{ Are we being called in to identify it? }}

“That and give me your honest impression of Ms. Laros,” answered Wrangler. Despite wearing a tight suit, she propped her heels up on her desk without care who saw what. “After all, Mr. Miller here came from similar obscurity prior to him finding and fixing you.”

“Clearly everyone needs to keep better eyes on their prototypes,” commented Ivan as he flipped through what images were available of the new Air-Core. “She’s definitely not a human design like Shadowbolt. There’s obvious signs that she’s Kuxpir, such as those sub-arms molded into her back. What about you, Shadowbolt? You know anything more about her?”

This was where Shadowbolt excelled. She may not have been the fastest or most well-armed Air-Core, but her intelligence gathering and processing was top notch. If anyone knew anything about the Air-Core Cinder found, it would be Shadowbolt. It was why Ivan now worked for The Company, thanks to being bonded with someone who’d cracked nearly every high-security system available to her within weeks of being repaired.

{{ There are whisperings out of Saratoga Springs that they intercepted a Kuxpir transmission detailing a report about a supposed ‘Advanced Dominance Fighter’ that would be tested around October 1st. That lines up with the time of crash and why a Kuxpir craft made it so far into allied territory. }}

“Any idea how she made it that far to begin with?” Wrangler asked.

{{ I would need clearer pictures and data than what I’m seeing through Ivan’s headpiece, }} Shadowbolt answered earnestly. {{ But my initial theory is that her chassis is similar to mine in that stealth was a major factor during design. This would be the first time the Kuxpir have attempted such subterfuge, however. }}

“I was afraid you’d say that,” sighed Wrangler. “I guess the good news is that Ms. Laros and her Air-Core are on their way to Offutt Air Force Base. We’ll be able to get all the data you need to make the call.”

Ivan finally connected the dots as to why Wrangler wanted Shadowbolt and him to see this. “You mean, decide whether to bring her on into our program or not.”

“Precisely, Mr. Miller.”

Closing the folder, Ivan passed it back onto the desk and remained leaned in. “First impression? Cinder might be great for The Company, but her Air-Core isn’t.”

Wrangler raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“Well for one, she’s a fighter craft, not a stealth bomber. We might not know how she got past the northern lines and deep into Nebraska, but now we know what to look for. Plus it was far easier for The Company to get those pictures than it was with Shadowbolt and I. Maybe that’s because Cinder isn’t paranoid enough. Or maybe this Air-Core wanted to be found.”

Wrangler paused mid-drag before swinging her feet back onto the ground and staring intently over the rim of her glasses. “You think she’s a plant then?”

Ivan shrugged. “More like someone on the Kuxpir side wished to be certain she was picked up. Sure, picking her apart in a black site like this would let us understand her tech better, but hiding and studying her at this point would be too much of a waste. She’s not like Shadowbolt who is meant to be hidden from the world even when in the air. I’d say let her end up wherever she’d be most useful. We can learn her capabilities while Cinder learns to fly.”

After a pause, Ivan flashed a smile. “Besides, we can’t hoard all the fun toys in this war. We gotta give the Navy and the Air Force goodies too.”

{{ If you’d like, I can start inquiring after this Air-Core, }} chipped in Shadowbolt. {{ Perhaps even make direct contact. Discreetly, of course. }}

“Do it,” confirmed Wrangler. “And in the meantime I want you two prepped for a long flight up to the 70th parallel north for a bit of recon. You’ll leave at 0400 in the morning.”

Ivan rose without needing to hear explicit dismissal from Wrangler. However, on the way out, she called after him, “Oh and don’t think we won’t be talking about your ‘extended maintenance hours’ when you get back!”