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  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Rots replied.

  “It will when you’re dangling by your tits in a mech’s grip,” Stony said. “Get to work.”

  “Yes, Chief,” Rots said and crouched by the parts. Then she frowned and looked up at Stony. “Hey, Chief?”

  “What?” Stony replied as he was about to walk away.

  “Is Chomps the name of the mech or the pilot?” Rots asked.

  “Yes,” Stony said and stomped off to yell at someone else.

  ***

  “Goddamn!” Lieutenant Miguela “Chomps” McHale cried out as her back arched and she pounded her fists on the shoulders of Lieutenant Bastion “Gore” Tasset. “God, I love you!”

  “Busy,” Gore mumbled, his mouth otherwise occupied.

  The chime at the cabin door sounded and Chomps felt around by the bunk for a boot, found one, and threw it at the door.

  “I will kill you if you don’t go away!” she yelled.

  The chime sounded again and she grabbed Gore’s head before he could pull away.

  “Do not even think of stopping,” Chomps said.

  The chime sounded a third time and the door override kicked in. The door slid open and a man bent over, picked up the boot, and walked it over to the bunk, holding it out for Chomps to take.

  She sighed, patted Gore on the head, and took the boot.

  “What do you want, Wall?” she asked as Gore extracted himself from between her legs, climbed up onto the bunk, and threw a blanket over both of them.

  “Hey, Wall,” Gore said.

  “Boss is home,” Joshua “Wall” Halstrom said. “She’s got some UEC biggy with her. Needs all pilots on deck.”

  “Why didn’t we hear that order in our comms?” Chomps asked.

  “Comms silent for now,” Wall said and shrugged. “Don’t ask me why. I don’t know.”

  Wall turned and left, the door sliding shut behind him.

  “When was the last time he had a brain scan?” Chomps asked Gore as she slid herself under the blanket.

  “He’s fine,” Gore said then gasped. “Make it quick. Boss is– DAMN!”

  ***

  “Where we at, Lucky?” Parveet asked as she stepped onto the Jethro’s bridge. “Gimme a countdown.”

  “Good to launch now, but it’s up to you,” Major Lucky replied.

  “We’ll need to condition Ambassador Torn here first,” Parveet said, nodding at the overwhelmed woman that followed her onto the bridge. “Gotta make it fast. Thoughts?”

  “Six-hour puke ride?” Lucky replied.

  “Ambassador Torn, this is my XO, Major Lucky,” Parveet said.

  “Lucky?” Torn asked.

  “Just Lucky,” Lucky replied.

  “He’s lived through seventeen near-death experiences,” Parveet said. “We only call him Lucky. You want his whole name, you look it up yourself. But don’t say it on the bridge. Ever.”

  “Bad luck,” Lucky said.

  “Bad luck,” the rest of the command crew on the bridge echoed.

  “Six-hour puke ride?” Parveet asked.

  “Fastest way to get her conditioned if we’re going to launch ASAP,” Lucky said. “Nomo says it’s our call. Although…”

  Lucky’s eyes went to the ambassador then back to Parveet.

  “Spill it,” Parveet said.

  “Permission to speak–”

  “Spill it!” Parveet snapped.

  “Nomo hinted there might be some heat coming down fast from on high,” Lucky said. “Bad heat. Destroy anyone close to the ambassador heat. He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that, but…”

  Parveet turned to regard Torn. “Talk to me.”

  “I don’t know what he’s referring to,” Torn said.

  Parveet sighed and turned back to Lucky. “You tell me.”

  “I honestly don’t know what Nomo is hinting at,” Lucky said and shrugged. “But it was in that voice he gets. You know the one.”

  “The shaky voice or the stuttery voice?”

  “The stuttery voice,” Lucky said.

  “Shit,” Parveet said, turning back to Torn once again. “You sure you don’t know what’s up? Anything with your family?”

  “I don’t know,” Torn said. “I mean, my uncle did have an investigation pending, but that was simply a bookkeeping issue.”

  “Nothing is simple on Earth,” Parveet replied. “Could it affect the entire lineage?”

  “Bookkeeping? That’s not a wipe-out offense,” Torn said.

  “If it’s more than bookkeeping, it is,” Parveet said. “We need to get you introduced and into conditioning. Now.”

  “Would you like me to escort her?” Lucky asked.

  “No, I’ll do it,” Parveet said. “The ambassador and I have history. I’m going to show her off to the pilots, let her see the mech hangar, then drop her off for her six hours of Hell.”

  “What is this six-hour puke ride?” Torn asked.

  “Six hours of puking,” Lucky said and shrugged. “Specifics won’t matter after the first hour.”

  “He’s right,” Parveet said. “Come on.”

  Torn stared at the personnel working on the bridge.

  “You don’t want to introduce me to the rest of the command crew?” Torn asked.

  “What? No,” Parveet said. “We’ve got a schedule to keep. We’ve got time for introductions later while we head to Hrouska. Trust me. You’ll get to know everyone and wish you didn’t know any of them.”

  “We’re a lousy bunch,” Lucky said. “Nice meeting you. Have fun puking.”

  Parveet walked to the doors and waited then snapped her fingers as Torn only stood there, face gray and wan, the overconfident diplomat nowhere to be seen.

  “Bee! Come on!” Parveet barked.

  “Don’t bark,” Torn said as she hustled to Parveet.

  “Then pay attention,” Parveet said. “We got shit to do.”

  ***

  “Good! You maggots are here!” Parveet barked as she walked into the mech hangar. She let loose with an earsplitting whistle and all noise stopped instantly. “Line up, bitches!”

  “Did she just call us maggots?” Lieutenant Raj “Shock” Nordini asked.

  “I think she did,” Lieutenant Minnie “Giga” O’Haloran replied. “She called us bitches, too.”

  “We are bitches,” Shock said.

  “True,” Giga replied.

  “But I’m not cool with the maggots thing,” Shock said.

  “Hey, Boss? What’s with the maggots calling?” Giga asked.

  “Shut your pie holes,” Lieutenant Esther “Roar” Spiegel said. “If Boss wants to call us maggots, then Boss gets to call us maggots.”

  “Personally, I prefer grubs,” Shock said. “Can we replace maggots with grubs?”

  “Insectist,” Giga said.

  “This is what I deal with every day,” Parveet said to Torn. “Shut it and listen up!”

  “Stand at attention!” Wall yelled. “Boss is on deck!”

  “You should say commander is on deck,” Gore said. “Or is it colonel on deck? I get confused.”

  “Ah, it’s okay, baby,” Chomps replied. “At least you’re cute.”

  “Who wants to get shot in the head?” Parveet asked. “Keep chatting and you get shot in the head.”

  No one said a word.

  “Jesus, Jay, have you actually shot someone in the head before?” Torn asked.

  Every pilot raised their hand.

  “They were stun pellets,” Parveet said. “But…yeah.”

  “Who’s the civilian?” Gore asked as he cracked his knuckles. “She’s got some expensive rings on. You have told her that rings get caught in shit around here and that’s how you lose a finger, right?”

  “Pilots, this is Ambassador Beryl Torn,” Parveet said. There were a couple mock impressed whistles. “She is an old friend of mine and quite possibly in hiding for her life, so let’s treat her like family.”

  “Real family?” Wal
l asked. “I killed my father when I was nine.”

  Everyone sighed.

  “We know, Wall!” Shock said. “God, why do you have to bring that up every time someone says the word family?”

  “I don’t,” Wall grunted.

  “Treat her like me and mine, are we clear?” Parveet ordered.

  “Clear as!” the pilots shouted in unison.

  “Good,” Parveet said. “Let me list them off for you, Bee.”

  Parveet started down the line, pointing at each pilot.

  “Shock. Best hand-to-hand mech combat pilot we have.”

  “You bet yer tits,” Shock said.

  “Giga, is our sniper.”

  “Pew pew,” Giga said.

  “How can a mech act as a sniper?” Torn asked.

  “I just said,” Giga replied. “Pew. Pew. Jeez.”

  “Ignore Giga, Bee,” Parveet said. “Roar is point.”

  “I get into the shit before the shit gets into us,” Roar said.

  “Wall is brute force.”

  “I break things,” Wall said.

  “Gore is demolitions.”

  “I blow things up,” Gore said.

  “Hooyah,” Wall said and the two high-fived.

  “Chomps is lead pilot and handles basically everything,” Parveet said.

  “Nice to meet ya, Ambassador,” Chomps said and curtsied. “If any of these assholes get out of line, come find me and I’ll knock them back in line. They are terrified of me.”

  “We’re sleeping together,” Gore said, pointing at Chomps. “Just wanted that out there.”

  “Um…thank you for letting me know,” Torn replied.

  “You really didn’t need to tell her,” Chomps said. “Everyone can see you’re my bitch.”

  “This is true,” Gore said. “I apologize, Ambassador, for stating the obvious.”

  “Shut it,” Parveet said then let out another whistle. The hangar instantly exploded into a hive of activity and noise. “Come on, I’ll show you a mech.”

  “You used to be a mech pilot, yes?” Torn asked.

  There was some laughter.

  “What?” Torn asked.

  “She kinda thinks she still is,” Shock said.

  “We have to constantly tell her to get out of our mechs,” Giga added.

  “They are all my mechs,” Parveet said. “Everything on the Jethro is what, pilots?”

  “Me and mine, Boss!” they yelled.

  “Hooyah!” most of the mechanics and techs responded with a raucous yell.

  “I thought hooyah was only an infantry thing?” Torn asked.

  “Hooyah is what you make of it,” Shock said and put his hands together like he was praying. “We are all hooyah.”

  “Amen,” Giga said.

  “Okay,” Torn said, nodding but looking very confused.

  “Quick tour then we get you to conditioning,” Parveet said, leading Torn away from the pilots.

  “What is she in for?” Chomps asked as she matched pace and joined the two women.

  “Six hours of puking,” Parveet said.

  Chomps stopped walking and the pilots still within earshot spun about and everything got very serious, very fast.

  “What are we in for at Hrouska?” Chomps asked. “Six hours of puking on a civilian is a little drastic, Boss.”

  “We’re in a hurry,” Parveet said.

  “Then let me show her my mech,” Chomps said. “This way, Ambassador.”

  7.

  The mechs each stood thirty feet tall and were a third as wide.

  With fully articulated limbs, they were humanoid in shape, including five fingers on each hand. The cockpit was set directly center of the upper chest, but there was a “head.”

  “How do you see out of that?” Torn asked.

  “What? The head?” Chomps replied as a power lift brought her, Parveet, and Torn up level with the cockpit. “You don’t. Not really. That’s strictly sensors and crap. Those help the pilot see, but there’re no eyes or anything. No, what really matters is right here.”

  She patted the edge of the cockpit hatch. Inside was a mass of webbing that looked like it was constantly pulsing with life.

  “What we have here is the cradle,” Chomps said. “A pilot hops in there and is instantly enrobed in the mesh. They become one with the mech due to the Gibbons Immersion Structure.”

  “It was named after a legendary pilot from ancient Earth history, yes?” Torn said.

  “Um…sure,” Chomps said.

  “We’re gonna be straight with Ambassador Torn,” Parveet said.

  “You sure, Boss?” Chomps asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay then,” Chomps said. “Gibbons wasn’t a pilot, he was an AI. And the GIS wasn’t named after him, it was invented by him.”

  “An AI?” Torn asked. “It must have been quite advanced for its day.”

  “It was,” Parveet said. “Without the GIS, we’d be clunking along like cargo loaders. The cradle lets pilots be one with the mechs. There is no separation.”

  “Which makes things dicey,” Chomps said. “In order for the GIS and the cradle to work properly, there has to be give and take.”

  “Give and take?” Torn asked.

  “The pilots take damage just like the mechs,” Parveet said. “Although, on a considerably lesser scale.”

  “Your scars,” Torn said, eyes wide with surprise.

  “Check this out,” Chomps said and unzipped her jumpsuit. She pulled down one shoulder to show a wicked bruise under her tank top’s strap. “This was just from sparring.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Torn said. “How do you manage to stay alive?”

  “We’re the best of the best of the best,” Chomps said and zipped her jumpsuit back up.

  Torn nodded appreciatively. “The Jethro does have a reputation.”

  She studied the mech and Chomps. Parveet let her. After a few moments, Torn cocked her head and frowned.

  “There are no armaments,” Torn said. “No canons, shoulder rockets, or belt guns. I’ve seen other mechs, not this close mind you, but I have seen them and they all have armaments built into their structure.”

  “This makes the Jethro MEU even more singular,” Parveet said. “I had those removed the second I took over command on this ship. They ruin agility and force a pilot to generalize their weapons capabilities instead of specialize. I want specialists. I want experts. I want masters of combat.”

  “Come on,” Chomps said to Torn. “Let’s introduce you to the Terrible Two.”

  “Terrible Two?” Torn asked.

  “She doesn’t have time,” Parveet said. “Six hours of puking.”

  “Give her five more minutes before she descends into Hell, Boss,” Chomps said. “We can spare five minutes.”

  Parveet waved her hand over her wrist and studied a staticky holo projection that came up. “Five minutes then she begins conditioning. Jennings gave us forty-eight hours. I want to be gone in twelve. Nothing about this mission feels right.”

  “Nothing feels right yet you want to rush into it?” Torn asked.

  “Yes,” Parveet said.

  The lift lowered and clunked to a stop at the hangar floor.

  “It makes sense in her head,” Chomps said then pointed at a couple busy arguing over by a mech that was set on its side. “Stony and Hawker. The Terrible Two. Looks like they’re in as good a mood as any.”

  Torn watched as the couple began shouting full volume into each other’s faces.

  “Nothing is as it seems on this ship, is it?” Torn said.

  “Now you’re getting it, Bee,” Parveet laughed and slapped her on the shoulder. “Now you’re getting it.”

  ***

  Tina poked Hawker in the chest.

  Hawker slugged Stony across the chin, took Tina from him, then brandished it like she was going to brain the Chief Mechanic with his own wrench.

  “Slight disagreement about something?” Parveet asked as she, Chomps, and To
rn walked up to the red-faced couple.

  “This gorilla here thinks that the left hip coupling needs a total hydraulics overhaul,” Hawker snapped. “Which it does not because I overhauled the hydraulics on this one last week.”

  “No, that was Roar that you overhauled,” Stony snarled. He snatched a small tablet off his belt and brought up the display. “See? See! Roar!”

  “Yep. You’re right, moron,” Hawker said as she jammed Tina into Stony’s chest and snatched the tablet away from him. She swiped left four times then spun the tablet around. “And Shock! Do you understand the concept of multiple work orders? Or is your brain so narrow and tiny you can only imagine one job at a time? It’s called multi-tasking!”

  “Shut up,” Parveet said. “Both of you.”

  “Yes, Boss,” Stony said.

  “Sorry, Boss,” Hawker said and eyed Torn. “Who’s the flat?”

  “Flat?” Torn asked.

  “Duuude,” Chomps said under her breath.

  “This is Ambassador Beryl Torn,” Parveet said. “She controls the budget that controls our ass out here. How about addressing her as Ambassador instead of flat?”

  “Whatever you want, Boss,” Hawker said and hawked up a huge glob of spit before turning her head to send it flying from her mouth.

  “Hey!” someone yelled. “Dammit, Hawker!”

  “We’ve been in the outer reaches for a while,” Chomps said.

  “I can see that,” Torn replied. “What’s a flat?”

  Parveet closed her eyes and sighed.

  “I got this, Boss,” Chomps said, wincing. “It’s a derogatory term for anyone that hasn’t been in the shit. Pretty much means you’re no better than someone who thinks the Earth is flat because you can’t even comprehend what it’s like being in the shit.”

  “The shit is combat?” Torn asked.

  “That and more,” Chomps replied. “The shit is that point where you have no idea if you’re gonna live or die, but goddamn you feel the most alive you’ve ever felt because you’re gonna take some assholes with ya if you go.”

  “I can’t quite tell if it’s a bad thing or a good thing to be in the shit,” Torn said.

 

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