Maks Suen, callsign Koschei, hopped off the wreck of the Deathless and into a puddle made earlier by one of the Einherjar’s steps. She groaned. The cost of fixing her machine was going to eat a sizable chunk into the job’s pay, and she was not happy about that. Her gaze flicked over to Avalon who was standing atop the Caliburn, looking at the disabled hostile mech.
“Steward, connect me to her,” she said to her own AI assistant.
Her AI steward gave a canned response and opened the channel.
“Avalon, thanks for taking it out.” Maks walked over to one of the prefabs to get out of the rain. “I’m going to have a word with the site chief, you coming?”
Aria shook her head. “I’m going to stay here and coordinate things.”
“Your loss.” Maks shrugged. “Anything you want me to say to him?”
“I want Necker to cover replacement and repairs,” said Aria as she climbed down from the Caliburn.
Maks nodded to herself. “Gotcha, I’m gonna leave the channel open. Close it if you don’t want to hear me lay into the guy.”
Koschei turned and headed back toward the command building. It had taken a hit during the firefight and its roof dipped from where the metal had melted. The site chief was standing over the briefing table, mumbling as he directed others across the base. Maks’ boots clomped on the metal flooring as she approached.
The chief of the survey team, Ismael Sonnen, looked up at Koschei. “Yes?”
“Yeah. So, what the fuck was that?” Maks stepped closer, looming over Ismael.
“You’re a mercenary, such risks are normal for your lot, aren’t they?” Ismael asked, eyes going back to the AR display in front of him.
Maks grabbed his collar and forced him to look up at her. “Normally we get some description of what we’re up against.”
Ismael glared at her, his cybernetic eyes narrowing. “We were unaware of that machine,” he said in a flat tone.
“Bullshit!” She slammed the smaller, greying man against a wall of the prefab. “Necker contracted two A-rated pilots for this, didn’t even tell us we’d be working together and then this happens within a day of planetfall,” Maks growled as she throttled the man.
Ismael pulled a pistol from his thigh and angled it up at her. “Let me go, Koschei.”
“Unless that’s got one hell of a payload you’re dead before you can take me out,” she said, voice cold.
His hand shook, finger pulling back from the trigger. “Necker didn’t tell me anything either.”
Maks pulled him up off his feet. “Nothing?”
The chief dropped his pistol. “Just that it was from Nastrond, and that you and Avalon were security assets without strong ties to Relativity or any corporation.”
“That’s it?” She dropped him back onto his feet and put one of her own on his gun. “Makes enough sense that you’d be someone expendable too. I wonder if anyone the company actually values is up on the ship.”
"...we're a forward survey team, so–"
"Acceptable losses, then." Maks leaned down and picked up his pistol then turned to look back out at the base. “With both our Einherjar out of commission, is Necker calling in additional help? Or just abandoning this clusterfuck?”
The chief paused, clearly communicating with the Shahrat in orbit. "You'll be assisting on foot, or in an Alfar."
Maks' right eye twitched. "And the additional help?"
Another pause. "A repair crew is being dispatched once the storm clears enough for a safe landing."
"...That's it?" Maks groaned. “I expected little and I’m still let down.”
Ismael waved a hand. "Requisitioning additional materiel would alert anyone watching this region of space."
"And a cruiser like the Shahrat isn't conspicuous!?" shouted Maks, her voice echoing in the command building.
Ismael shook his head. “The Shahrat no longer possesses any of its orbital weaponry. It was retrofitted to serve as a science vessel two years ago. So no, it is not suspicious for it to be near Nastrond.”
Before Maks could respond there was the sound of metal on metal screeching, accompanied by shouts from the crew. Both Maks and the chief turned to face where it had come from, toward the headless wreck of the quadrupedal mech. Its remaining arm was raised, crimson energy sputtering out of the energy blade’s base.
“You’re fucking kidding me,” mumbled Maks.
The mech’s arm turned and jammed its hand against its torso.
Aria shouted at the workers nearby, “Stop that thing!”
A worker in an industrial frame grabbed the elbow of the limb and pulled it down. The eitr blade fully formed with a flash of light and dug into the mud below. Another worker brought a saw to bear on the shoulder joint. Metal screamed as the saw bit into it, then the worker holding it was tossed back by an expulsion of plasma. The power was severed from the limb, the energy blade going out. And a moment later the machine was still again.
Maks turned to the chief. “That repair crew is coming down now.” Her eyes bored into him with their intensity. “There could be more of those out there.” She thrust the pistol at him. “Your pistol, chief.”
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He quickly took the weapon and nodded once. He actually spoke aloud as he sent the message up. “Threat on planet deemed sufficient, send down the repair crew now.” He glanced over at something in his augmented reality displays and began listing Einherjar parts.
Aria rushed over to the worker who’d sawn off the mech’s arm moments ago, footfalls sending water splashing. The exterior of the frame was steaming as rain fell on it. An internal latch clicked open, and the front of the cockpit opened slightly. Aria pulled her top off and wrapped it around her gloved hands, then lifted the hatch open fully, the wet fabric sizzling as a blast of hot air washed over her. She could feel the heat through the wraps and her gloves, but it was more important to get the metal away from the man inside. The pilot was gasping, burns covering his front half.
“I need medical!” shouted Aria before turning back to the pilot. “Hey, you awake? It’s gonna be okay, just stay with me.”
He nodded, then rasped, “Hurts bad.”
A group of Necker personnel approached the downed machine.
Aria reached down and helped undo the restraints around the pilot. “Now this is going to hurt, but we need to get you out of there.”
“Uh huh,” he said, then braced for the pain as the belts were fully removed.
The other Necker personnel helped Aria move the man onto a stretcher; he hissed every time his burns had to be touched. Once she was sure he was in good hands, she looked back up at the wreck. It had tried to turn its own weapon on itself even after its torso had been cored out.
“Nimue, can you get into that thing’s systems at all? It’s clearly got back-up power somewhere in it.”
“If it’s an AI, I worry about any countermeasures. It’s the same reason I don’t try to attack opposing pilot’s systems.”
“You have done it before though,” said Aria, as she realized how cold she was in just her bra and undershirt. A shiver ran through her.
“I would need to partition myself and probe it from a separate source than your ARC.”
Aria ran back toward the hangar and her own room next to where the Caliburn would normally stand. “M-maybe we could use the Caliburn’s systems?”
“If it is an AI, I don’t want to risk it getting into our Einherjar.” Nimue sighed. “Could do it from one of the industrial frames. They don’t often have an AI on board, but they’ve usually got the system space.”
“We’ll need to do it tonight, while the storm is still here.” Aria closed the door to her room and locked it. “You heard the chief through Maks’ channel, a repair team is coming and that likely includes a salvage one.”
“Glad to see you still don’t trust any of our employers.”
“We’re expendable to them, why would I ever?” She groaned. “Everything’s soaked through, gotta change.”
________
Maks pulled the harness of the Alfar over herself, and the straps tightened. She scanned the inside of the cockpit. It was a very purpose built affair, all chunky and sturdy parts with clear buttons and controls. These frames were made for general use and stood around four meters tall. The average worker wouldn’t be getting a neural sync system installed; far too much of a commitment even without the risk of sync syndrome.
“Hate these fucking things,” grumbled Maks as she made the frame stand.
With a flick of a clearly labeled switch the comms channel to the other frames was opened, a screen displaying the others currently active and their names. Her eyes scanned over their names; Thad, Maya, Takuya, Ercan and two that were registered as inactive.
Maks pressed a button on the comms panel and spoke. “Maya, Ercan, Thad, this is Koschei. I need a hand moving the Deathless into its hangar. It’ll be worse if it sinks into the mud.”
The other frames moved over to the Deathless and got in position to lift the fallen Einherjar. The comms channel crackled and Ercan’s name lit up. “Can a hotshot pilot even use one of these?” he asked.
Maks sighed. “I know you probably only ever work with jackasses born into it, or who went straight into a corporate army after testing, but I started where you all are.” With a press of a button on the control joysticks the hands of the frame clamped down on the Deathless. “Tell me when you’ve all got your grip secured.”
Maya affirmed first, “Got it, Koschei, kinda nice seeing someone who knows what it’s like. Where did you work?”
“I worked the freight transfers at the Xi’an star docks,” replied Maks, a little surprised at the lack of hostility.
Ercan confirmed wordlessly, an icon lighting up on the status screen.
Thad confirmed and spoke, “Grip solid. You worked Xi’an? I was there a few years back, before a Blivet freighter knocked off part of the docks and it had to be rebuilt.”
“I’d gone by then. Damn shame though, the docks were better made before they had to be replaced.” Maks readied herself to engage the frame to raise up the Deathless. “We’re all reading good, one more confirm before we lift.” Each of the others pinged ready on the comms panel. “Three, two, one and lift.”
The group all pulled the much larger machine up, joints creaking and muck falling from it. “Alright, we’re up.”
Ercan spoke again. “Course we are, it’s not our first rodeo.”
Maks flipped her comms off for a moment. “Jackass.” Then flipped them back on. “Understood, you want to lead the walk?”
“He definitely does,” groaned Thad.
“Miller is fucking dead, Bruno’s in medical and we’ve got some merc talking down to us!” shouted Ercan.
“She’s not talking down to us. You think I’m not pissed that Miller’s dead?” The sound of a fist against one of the consoles came through the channel. “Just do your damn job and take it up with management!” shouted Maya.
“Maya’s got a point, Erc. Necker at least pays out well to families after death, and they’re a pharma corp. Bruno is going to be fine.” Thad sighed. “Let’s just get this done so we can get out of the fucking rain.”
Ercan grumbled. “Fine. We’re moving, sync to my frame.”
The four of them slowly advanced, carrying the Deathless’s upper body into the hangar then paired off to get each leg in as well, Maks with Maya while Thad worked with Ercan. Takuya had been called over to close the base’s gates and check the walls, but he’d be needed for moving the Caliburn as one of its legs was still attached. With tempers calmed, the group moved the Caliburn into its hangar.
With only the right leg still outside, Maks spoke again. “I’ll only need one of you for the leg, who’s staying?”
“I will.” Ercan replied.
Maks was a little surprised. “Sure. When we’re back on the ship I’m buying you all dinner and drinks.”
“Score.” said Thad.
“Always there for a free drink,” added Maya.
“See you there,” said Takuya.
One by one the others signed off as they walked their frames back to their shared hangar. Ercan took the opposite side of the leg from Maks.
“Ready?” asked Ercan, his frame locking its grip.
Maks did the same. “Yes, on your go.”
Ercan counted down then the pair lifted the limb and moved it into the hangar, setting it down next to the Caliburn.
Ercan walked his frame to the door and turned to Maks. “You’re not so bad. Sorry for being a jackass.”
Maks waved with her frame. “Not a big deal. Some pilots are real pieces of shit. You got a name for the one that soured you on us?”
“Midas,” replied Ercan.
Maks burst out in laughter. “That fucking prick? The one who just put the most expensive shit on his machine then painted it gold? That dickbag?”
Ercan chuckled too. “Yeah, he was pissed that I scratched the paint when locking his frame into a drop pod.”
“What an ass.” Maks took a moment to recover. “You remember what he called that abomination?”
Ercan put on the most post accent he could and said, “The Touch, it’s the best money can buy.”
“On point, painfully so. Did you know he does influencer shit on the net? I swear he poses with the thing more than he actually pilots it.” Maks shook her head. “He even got his neural sync ports gold plated. He’s like a parody of himself.”
Ercan laughed softly. “Thanks for that, I needed something to laugh at.” His frame turned. “See you around the base, Koschei.”
“You can call me Maks, Ercan.”