With great skepticism, Verox prepared the young upstart for a synch read. After watching the initial drive, Verox put the girl’s potential synchronicity with the ELS at no more than fifty percent, but something about the fluidity of movement Ivy had shown in those brief movements made Verox pause.
But she simply attributed the anomalous fluidity to the new design and her own genius. More field testing would show that the ELS was capable of oh-so much more than this girl could even attempt to comprehend.
And if not, Verox had nothing to lose. She’d have a driver worthy of at least driving the power suit until another, more capable candidate appeared.
Once she connected both Ivy’s brain and nervous system to the entirety of the ELS’s state of the art autonomous support system, Verox returned to the dead displays waiting to come alive under the press of a single button.
“Here goes nothing.”
She pressed the gray “Synchronize” button and confirmed both subjects, the ELS and Ivy, as the subjects of testing. The readings idled for a brief moment as the tests started in earnest. Through the thin cables running from Ivy to the ELS, Verox watched the flow of electricity pulsing between the two.
Communication was active.
The display lit up faster than she could keep up with. Functionality, initially gray, shot past red, orange, yellow, topped out in green, then shined a brilliant turquoise. Reflexes, life support, enchanted hyperdrive—all of it shined the same.
Verox couldn’t believe her eyes as Ivy’s rapidly twitching body stilled, the tests finished as fast as they started. Even amongst the simpler power suits, she’d never seen a synch test turn out like this.
“What was that?” Abellar, the old badger, asked as he poked his head into her lab without permission… again. Uncanny as he always was, he read the situation instantly and grinned at Verox. “She’s annoyingly persistent in a way that’s hard not to admire. I thought you’d be able to hold out, honestly.” He meandered his way over beside Verox and looked over the results, his mouth agape with far less dignity than Verox had managed.
“As the sole designer and engineer for ELS, I’m exerting my right to participate in direct supervision for the training and management of ELS’s driver. She does not eat, sleep, breathe, or use the latrine without me knowing about it. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal,” Abellar muttered absentmindedly, looking as if he’d start drooling any second.
“Then do me a favor and get out of my lab.”
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“There she is.” Laril watched as the newcomer who’d stolen the opportunity for so many casually waltz out from lead engineer Verox’s lab as if she was having the time of her life. All smiles as she skipped down the hall, Laril groused as he approached. “Hey, newbie. Over here. There’s some important stuff you’re missing out on.”
“Oh, you’re the guy I fell on, right? Sorry about that, I wasn’t in full synch yet. I didn’t catch your name. I’m Ivy, not newbie.”
“Laril. And as a twelve-year veteran of this particular program, I think I deserve—”
“Lemme stop you right there, Laril. You think this is going to be some fun hazing thing, push me around, put me in my place? I’ve seen how this goes a thousand times and it’s never going to turn out well for you.” And she was still grinning. Unconcerned.
Laril’s fist tightened and he glanced to either side. Fortunately, his fellow riders were all looking just as incensed as he felt. He stepped forward to loom over the smaller upstart. “How about you listen, or we’ll make you listen.”
“Look. I’m not interested in your little inner office politicking. I just want my power armor and to strike back against the… whatever our rival factions are called. Ascension forever and all that!”
“Are you mocking us?”
“Wow, someone’s a little insecure.” She shook her head at them, crimson eyes gleaning mischievously. “No wonder you needed to come with a whole cadre just to say hi.”
“I know you’re new around here, but that doesn’t mean—”
“Generic.” Ivy stuck out a hand to stop him. “If you don’t have anything interesting to say, I’ll be leaving. Nice meeting you Laril. Laril’s goons.” She nodded in farewell and turned to leave.
“Face me, coward!” Laril lunged at her, intending to grab her shoulder and spin her around. She abruptly stopped moving and turned on her own, so his hand instead came down on her raised forearm.
He didn’t see what exactly she did, but suddenly, she snapped out an attack into his other arm that knocked him back a step.
“Just so we’re clear, I’m not the coward in this situation,” Ivy hissed. “I may be new to mecha piloting, but I’ve had a hundred years to prepare for my adventure and you’re not going to mess it up for me now.”
“And I’ve been training for this for twelve years,” Laril hissed back through gritted teeth. He crouched, hands raised, ready to strike or deflect. “A mecha is only as good as its pilot, and you don’t deserve to take up space in our formation.”
“Don’t worry. I have no interest in joining your formation. I’m way too good for you.” She’d stepped back but returned to the unbothered casualness she’d been displaying so far. Like she thought the world revolved around her and nothing could possibly trouble her. “You leave me alone and I’ll leave you alone, and we’ll defeat our enemies. Yeah?”
And she walked away, as though that were the last word and no one would have any reason to argue.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
Laril turned back to his fellow riders. Two weeks ago, they’d been the bitterest rivals, desperately pushing themselves to gain any edge over the competition. Now, they were fully unified.
This upstart didn’t know what she was messing with. She may have the support of the higher-ups for whatever nepotistic reason—once you knew what to look for, you could always tell which people had genuinely earned their way in and which ones were being inflated artificially—but that only meant they had to be more careful about it.
Accidents could happen to anyone, after all, no matter who they were related to.
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With one thing and another, it was evening before Zibo made it to the tower courtyard. Mira was safely locked in the landlord’s private quarters where she could play or sleep.
Zibo was still torn on whether he should have Mira go through with the Awakening and get her a deck or if she’d be better off without it. While his Restore power could heal any minor injuries, it did nothing to fix the existing damage that left her all but incapable of speaking.
He didn’t actually know how much she understood. He’d tried to teach her reading and writing, but she never showed any sign of comprehension. She clearly understood at least most of what he said aloud but had no way of responding, beyond the occasional monosyllable.
To this day, he wasn’t sure if she’d actually named her cat ‘Tem’ or if that was just the only happy sound she knew how to make and connected that happiness with the cat.
She could sometimes be incredibly sensitive, doing things before he even realized he needed them done. Other times, she was like a lost child, wandering aimlessly.
He couldn’t guess whether awakening her deck would be a good thing or an incredibly dangerous thing. But he had one desperate idea for who to ask. The prince from Euriste 1, wearing all the formal regalia, the one who sold him his cards. If anyone would know the potential risks and benefits of going through with it, he’d be the man.
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Ivy had to say, apart from the childish co-workers, the Ascension compound was one of the nicest places she’d stayed in her life. On Earth, she and James had been scraping by well enough, but didn’t have the kind of disposable income to go on fancy vacations, so this sort of all-inclusive resort of a training facility was something she’d never really believed was real. Movies could make anything seem plausible, but to actually live it was something else.
The mecha lab was something straight out of a sci-fi show and the training arena was everything she could have hoped for in mecha gladiatorial training—with a little formation training on the side, but that was alright.
She hummed to herself as she loitered in the shower, enjoying the warm water. Other voices drifted through the curtain, grumbling or talking about evening plans as people hurried through the obligatory removal of sweat and grime from the long and busy day of training and practice. Ivy tuned it out. She’d intentionally waited until after the main rush so she could take her time without feeling guilty for holding anyone up.
The lack of personal plumbing was a minor annoyance, but she didn’t actually mind it as much as she’d have thought. Her bedroom was luxurious even by hotel standards, but it was apparently easier to run an elevator to her suite than a sink and toilet.
Still, even if there was a little less privacy than she was used to, it was kind of refreshing to be forced in with everyone else.
She almost wanted to request being moved from VIP to standard dorms, just for the experience of it, but couldn’t quite bring herself to surrender her pillows that easily. Plus, it was one thing to have people gossipping and chattering the next stall over while showering, and another entirely to try to sleep with it going on. She’d gotten used to the quiet and peace of the shop, and liked the tiny separation between her day job as a power armor soldier in training and being able to go home to her own bed at night.
The worst part of life at the Ascension compound was the actual training.
She’d read about, watched, and heard of so many training sequences, but the amount of sheer painful time that was spent on every little bit of progress was so frustrating. Somehow, it was harder to be patient with the end in sight than it had been waiting a full century in Aiguo.
She’d been at this for weeks and still wasn’t improving nearly as fast as she wanted. She’d put in so much practice in the shop, and still was so far behind everyone else.
Sure, Verox was constantly praising her progress and dedication, but that was what they’d say to anyone they wanted to encourage to keep at it. They had no idea how passionate Ivy truly was, if they thought she needed encouraging to stick to her commitment.
She just wished she could timeskip past the boring grind and get on with the faction conflict already. Training arcs were only interesting for so long.
Where was the excitement? Why was she the only one around here having any fun? How was it they had a magic tower, superpower cards, power armor, and still managed to look like DC traffic?
Sure, the training was miserable and everything ached in places she didn’t know could ache, but at the end of the day, she was becoming a better and better mecha pilot and more and more capable as a fighter in general. That was what she was here for.
Weren’t they all?
She grinned, despite herself. However much she might complain in the privacy of her own thoughts, this was still the best month of her life. Being out of the house, away from the shop, all on her own…
It felt like she was finally able to grow up a bit. Experience the world for herself, instead of always being stuck inside.
So distracting was her inner monologue that she’d completely failed to notice the room going silent until she turned off the water. Not empty, people were still moving around beyond the curtain, but no one was talking.
She reached out to grab her towel.
Someone grabbed her wrist.
“Hey, that’s—”
She was yanked through the curtain. Her feet slipped out from under her and she would have fallen if not for the glowing green fist that slammed into her chest.
She instinctively lashed back with Retaliation, but it wasn’t enough to save her.
The green light grew brighter and brighter until it was all she could see. Then she landed on something cold and very solid and definitely not in the Ascension compound.
She’d been ambushed and someone had teleported her away. That was obvious.
But to where?
The light was dim, only provided from starlight through narrow slits, and it took her a moment to adjust from the industrial brightness of the previous room.
The hum in the floor reminded her of something, but it was only when she fully took in her surroundings that she understood what had happened.
In a cage, along with several other chained and barely-clothed humans. She was on a slave ship. And from the hum in the floor and the lack of a nearby planet, they were already moving through space.
But, hey, at least she wasn’t chained up yet, and she even still had her towel. If this was going to be her escape arc, she was starting out in a better position than she’d have expected.
She hummed as she carefully dried herself off, certain to get between her fingers and toes and shake out her ears, then wrapped the towel comfortably around her torso.
The other slaves were staring at her, dumbfounded.
“What? You don’t respect proper hygiene?” She shook her head. “No wonder this place smells.”
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