Each pilot rides a lift to the open cockpits of their enormous, waiting Mechs. Doctor Yi runs the bootup sequence on each from the Control Circle.
Hanami settles into the pilot seat. It looks very similar to the simulator she practiced with, but the smell, the way that sound moves in the cockpit, the tactile sensation of the high-tech materials—all of that is new.
Inside the cockpit of Bombardier, Reo runs his hands delicately over the complex control panels. He finds a thick Operating Manual tucked under his pilot seat.
The Doctor’s voice, tinny sounding, comes over the Communications Systems in each Mech.
“Okay pilots, we’ll start with a simple Comms check. If you can hear me when I call your name and designation, say ‘confirm.’”
“Hanami – Ranger.”
“Confirm.”
“Chase – Ronin.”
“Confirm!”
“Reo – Bombardier.”
“Confirm.”
“Kora – Templar.”
“Confirm.”
“Very good. Now in the collar of your flight suits you will find a transparent mesh that stretches over your head like a hood. You need to pull that up now. That is the Neural Net, which allows you to interface directly with your Mech. Although each Mech has manual controls, as you’ve practiced with, the Neural Net allows the Mech to scan your brainwaves. Engaging Neural Net now.”
Each pilot shudders as a sudden current seems to run through their bodies, tingling every nerve, expanding their sense of conscious awareness.
Feels like I’m gonna bloody cark it, Kora thinks.
“With extensive practice and bidirectional familiarity, you will be able to pilot the Mech as easily as moving your own body. Arms, legs, etc.,” explains the Doctor.
“That’s great, Doc, and a killer buzz. But what about flying? Our brains and bodies don’t know how to do that,” Chase remarks.
“Really, Chase? I can’t believe an ‘ace pilot’ like you has never dreamt about flying. If your mind can make the motion in a dream, it can do it again here,” Commander Carver says over the Comms.
Chase cracks a grin, “Alright, I’m game.”
Doctor Yi loads a program through the central controls.
“For your first flight, we’re putting you all on autopilot until you reach your destination. We’ll stay in constant communication over the Comms. It would be wise to strap in.”
Hanami is ready. Reo checks his harness. Chase and Kora scramble with their buckles as circular openings appear above each Mech bay like individual missile silos. Umbilical cables pop out of each Mech with the hiss of decompression and scaffolding retracts.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Doctor Yi, Commander Carver, and Winter hold on as the central Control Circle hydraulically raises off the ground, passing safely through the retracting elevated walkway, and ascending through a large opening in the ceiling of the Mech Hangar. They are now in Central Command, looking out of large windows over the exterior of the Floating Fortress and the ocean beyond. Banks of screens and holographic displays manned by technicians fill the rest of the room.
“Pilots, prepare for launch,” Doctor Yi says through the Comms.
Hanami allows herself the slightest smile as she feels the elegant vibrations run through the massive machine. The thrusters on the feet and back of her Mech hum with readiness.
“In FIVE…”
Kora: I’m not ready, I’m not ready, I’m not ready…
“FOUR…”
Reo: This is way better than a sim!
“THREE…”
Chase: Did I remember to cancel my date with Jessica?
“TWO…”
Hanami: …
“ONE. Launching Mechs.”
---
Moments later the four Mechs are soaring through the air over the blue expanse of the Pacific Ocean, the Floating Fortress becoming just a speck behind them. Holoscreen displays in each cockpit indicate a dotted navigation line for the autopilot course the Mechs are following.
The Commander over the Comms, “Pilots, how are they handling?”
“Mine is steady,” Reo answers. “One thing the sims don’t prepare you for is the WEIGHT. You really feel how substantial these bad boys are.”
“Don’t be sexist,” Kora jests. “My Mech is 100% woman. Chase’s too, I bet.”
“What? Hey!” Chase protests.
“That is foolish,” Hanami adds in a serious voice. “Mechs are simply complex machines, and therefore have no sexual designation. Any sense of gender is something the human mind projects onto the unfamiliar as an unconscious attachment strategy.”
“Right…” Chase adds. “Commander, my Mech is handling great. What’s their max speed?”
“That’s need-to-know and right now you don’t. We have you on a set course and speed, flying low. We’re going to put you through your paces with a live fire exercise.”
“Live… fire?” Kora asks.
“Nonlethal,” Doctor Yi says. “You should be approaching your destination.”
The pilots gaze out of the cockpits as their Mechs slow their approach, begin to right themselves, and descend to land on a small ring-shaped island, mostly sand and rock with a lagoon in the middle.
“This is Horseshoe Atoll. The Doctor will activate a skirmish program with training drones. Nonlethal energy, but you will have the full complement of your weapons; try to avoid friendly fire,” the Commander says.
A shrieking alarm blares from some hidden PA system on this island, no doubt a location used for A-PAC training exercises before.
One, two, three, four, five, SIX military drones rise from a subterranean bunker at one end of the island like fat buzzing black beetles. They quickly take up attack formation, surrounding the four Mechs. Single Laser cannons mounted on the bottom of each drone take aim.
“Consider this your first encounter,” the Commander says. “Let’s see if all those hours in the simulators paid off.”
---
The four Mechs appear to tense, mirroring the pilots as they ready for action. The large drones swirl overhead, weapons glowing with charge.
Then they start firing.
“Shields up!” Hanami barks.
The pilots cross mechanical arms over their cockpits in an instinctive defensive posture. Streaks of bright laser fire crackle against the shields of the Mechs, creating an ozone haze.
“Shields at 80%” Chase says.
“Down to 70% for me,” Reo says, gritting his teeth and checking his display.
The drones fire, relentless, raining searing beams down as they circle like an electric whirlwind.
Kora checks her display. [Shields – 62%]
Chase attempts to aim with his shoulder-mounted ballistic and energy weapons. It is an unnatural feeling, trying to communicate to these phantom appendages through brainwaves. He fiddles with the manual controls.
“These drones are fast!” he says, cursing under his breath.
Hanami waits for a pause in the assault, an opening. But none comes. The attack is relentless. [Ranger: Shields – 52% and falling] This is not sustainable, she thinks.
The helpless Mechs are lit up under merciless laser fire. They stagger, maneuver uncertainly under the onslaught.