Chapter Four and Chapter Five

Chapter 4

"All right, you slow pokes! On three, pull! One . . . two . . . three . . .Pull! Harder, you lazy bums. Quit slacking, Kearn.” Drake yelled as his crew lifted the tribune to its feet. “That’s it! Steady! Keep it going up. Harder on your side, Cordelia.” Drake smiled as his Piloted Interspatial Flight Suit (P.I.F.S.), the Apollo, rose to a wondrous height above his tall figure. At over 6 feet tall, he was the tallest pilot on the base, but the suit still tripled his height easily.

It was a glorious ambulatory disguise of armor, made of white metal sheets trimmed in vibrant royal blue casings, a machine fit for a squad leader. From the back of the center console, metal wings extended out over the shoulders, razor-sharp tips hanging down like instant guillotines, unpainted and deathlike in their appearance, much like Renata himself. Heather could remember wanted signs on several of the Earth bases calling for the death of ‘the man without fear.’ Josh said it would be better to call him, ‘the one without emotion,’ ‘the man without humor,’ or even ‘the one without a brain,’ but Heather had never commented as Cordelia giggled over the picture on one of the stolen posters. As the machine balanced onto its feet, Commander Drake Renata swung himself into his cockpit and flicked a few of what should have been power switches. Lights whirred, but the command screen remained dark. He whirled in his chair and stood, trying the intercom system that would connect to all of the base if needed, but for now, it only relayed to a speaker near the forehead of the PIFS.

"Something’s not right! He’s not responding correctly.” Drake yelled from the microphone in his command post, the speaker static echoing through the metal hangar. Heather could imagine him flipping every switch on the console instead of using the controls like it was an Interplanetary Space Unpiloted Machine. She had modified their own systems to be easier to operate without being easy to steal. I.S.U.M.s could be stolen by anyone.

“Hang on! I'm coming. I’m coming.” Heather sighed, frustrated. She had just spent most of the night customizing his P.I.F.S. to fit his needs, and in a matter of minutes, he could destroy it. With as much speed and agility as the Apollo pilot, Heather swung herself into his console and flicked a red switch above Drake’s head. “In the future, try telling the Apollo who you are, ‘Captain, oh my Captain.’ SHE likes it better that way.” She smiled pulling his identification card and inserting into a simple slit in the metal console marked off in green, as she quoted an old Earth movie she had found as she rummaged through the library one night. “I’m sure you don’t want her calling you someone else’s name.” She smirked, giving him a mock salute and pulled herself out of the cockpit and leaped off the side, catching the hand of the suit and then dropping again.

“Good job Lieutenant. Is the Lilith suit ready?” Drake asked as he followed her down on the opposite side of the machine, dropping to the base floor beside her, unwilling to reveal the fact that he had just been upstaged by an inferior officer. He pushed the remote in his hand to return his PIFS to a military attention. One other pilot shared his hangar and not one tool was allowed to be out of place unless it was being used. Nothing about the hangar showed personality, much like Drake himself. There weren’t even scuff marks on the floor from the movement of the huge metal PIFS feet. He had seen to that. Now that the machine was in ready position, the ropes used were being coiled to be returned to their labeled position, just how Commander Renata liked it.

“Almost sir.” She knew her place in this bunker, and was not about to be demoted for disrespect where others could see it. She’d be able to show him what she was capable of soon enough.

“Good. Pilot Yuy, is the Opiate set to your liking, yet? Tomorrow’s mission will go on as scheduled no matter what.” Drake narrowed his eyes and looked at the other four pilots in the room.

"Yes, Commander. It’s set. I'm ready, and I can pilot my suit. Can YOU pilot your suit, Commander?” Josh cracked, gesturing toward the large mechanical monster standing next to them. It was a foreboding piece of equipment, mostly because it was as cold and lacked a heart as much as Renata. Heather let out a giggle that was met by a look of appreciation and one of disdain. She bit her lip and tried not to laugh harder. Drake cast steely eyes in her direction until she was able to choke down her giggles. The acidic taste of blood leaked into her mouth.

“I can. Be sure YOU can.” Drake snorted as he stormed off. Disrespect was something he would have to train out of them,’ he thought as the immaculate room was left behind him for the solitary safety of the locked doors of his bunk. They were soft, and that would kill them on the battle field. He was their commanding officer, not their babysitter.

Chapter 5
“Boy, he was some kind of pissed.” The Opiate pilot smiled. “Have you seen the Miakoda? We fixed it!” Heather opened her hatch and sat on the top of the machine’s head. There was enough room in the console for her to stand up, but only because she was shorter than everyone else. Her P.I.F.S.’s modification hadn’t included extra room, instead it was equipped with a computer system that went through so much information at once that no one else could pilot it, even if they could have fit in the command center.

“Fixed it? What was wrong with Levi’s suit? It was fine when I left.” Heather asked as she pulled herself completely out of the cockpit and slid her legs over the side, ready to fall into the waiting machine’s hands. The Lilith suit matched the Apollo in structure, but for all the masculine colors at deep red and blue, it still screamed female with its stocky legs and over-sized chest plate.

“Seems he had a run in with the border patrol units. Messed him up pretty bad. He’s in the intensive unit.” Cordelia relayed what she knew of the incident, pulling her gum out of her mouth in long strings between her pointer finger and thumb and chewing it back into her mouth.

“You’re kidding!” The metal hands of the P.I.F.S. opened and Lieutenant Kou jumped into them. There was the clicking of heels on the tile as Lieutenant Kou landed on the floor from her tribune’s hands, half the distance up from where her command center was positioned. She straightened her uniform and flicked and invisible piece of lint off her badges. “I’ve got to go see him then. Damn, I knew I shouldn’t have taken off to freeze my ass on the Lunar surface. I’m lucky you clowns didn’t kill yourselves while I was gone. Any other damages to report?” She knew that slight problems physically or mentally had the capability of destroying Levi. After the amount of time she had spent in prison with him, fear of returning was enough to drive the most stable pilot into suicide.

"No, just the Miakoda, Lieutenant.” The Apollo pilot entered the room, a no nonsense line in the place of his mouth. “You have permission to go see Pilot Pearson, if you wish, Lieutenant.” All the familiarity and childishness leaked quietly out of the door Commander Renata had entered.

“Okay, thank you. I . . . I suppose I should go see him now.” Heather stammered. She didn’t like having to go to the intensive unit, even if she wasn’t being put in it again. Therapy was enough, she didn’t need to be reminded of her torture at the hands of the first FECA officers she had been given to. Have you seen Jules? There are some questions I need to ask him.” Heather asked as she began to leave.


“I’m here. I just got back from Levi’s room. He’s asleep now. Perhaps you should just wait and go see him later. Meanwhile, you can fill us in on what’s happening on the Lunar base.” Julian smiled as he started to lead her to the private Miakoda hangar, his flirtatious nature shifting into overdrive.

“Actually Julian, I need to know about the Automatic Pilot System mechanism in the Morpheus. How did you compensate for the switch from manual coordination into the auto-target lock? There has to be a way to allow for without a system failure.” Julian smiled.

"I usually don’t have to compensate, because I try to stay away from the auto-target lock. It can’t be trusted to lock on the most vulnerable point of the different types of I.S.U.M.s. But, we can talk about that more – later. What did you do on the Lunar Base? Did they fight you for the alloy again, or did they just let you have it this time?”

"What happened on the Lunar Base? She prolly can’t even remember yesterday. I heard they brain wash smart-mouthed lieutenants there.” Joshua quipped as he prepared for Heather to turn around and launch herself at him. His attempt to regain the spirit of their youth did not go unnoted.

“I heard that too. Of course, there wouldn’t have been much to clear. I mean, I’m so brain dead that I’d even work with unidentified species. Oh, wait! You have a name!” Heather pretended to be frustrated with herself. “Dammit, I’m gonna have to remember that.” She snapped her fingers and pretended to be concentrating really hard. “Jo-sh-ua Yu-y. There, I think I’ve got it now.” Joshua pretended to be hurt for a second before he took his hand off his forehead and stuck out his tongue. He paid her back by tickling her until she threatened to pee on him.

“Wow! I don’t have to hold her back! Trip must have been great, cause normally she’da jumped yur sorry ass. Damn! I don’t get to hold her off anymore.” Pilot Three laughed. “I remember the last time you told her something like that, Josh.” Jules chuckled at the faint memory. “I thought your face would be bleeding from her claws by now.”

“Julian! I don’t appreciate that. I have better control over my temper than to attack for a simple bit of teasing.” Heather curled her top lip over the corner of her mouth in a satisfied little smirk and kept walking.


Word Count for this Chapter: 1,786 words
Word Count so Far: 5,299 words

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