on-a-mechtechnicality

[on-a-mechtechnicality]

Help/Hope

Sigrid turned the valve assembly over in her hands. It wasn’t warm, and steam wasn’t billowing from underneath the seal, but her fingers recognized it nonetheless. Her mind supplied the rest of the memories; the smell of hot chocolate, the way the steam hit her face, the way Karrie’s shy smile made the world seem brighter than any flood light could hope to achieve.

The sofa had seemed smaller, her quarters warmer, and her future fuller than she could manage now. The sight of the Old Girl marching out with Melissa’s star halfway through her shift was etched in her memories. It would fade over time, as all things do, but the helplessness she felt would take a while to subside.

It was odd, how much having something to live for came with the mortal fear of losing it. Part of her wanted to curse herself, for not being better. For not being stronger. For not being healed.

If you could just get over it, the part said, and strap in like you used to, you could protect her.

‘You should be out there. You’re supposed to be a MechWarrior. You should be protecting those you love.

You don’t deserve to call yourself a daughter of Rasalhague if you can’t even do your job.

She was tired. Stars, was she tired.

She sighed and shifted her grip. Not that she did much at all, really, she thought. All the fighting out there—unknown opposition, as if anything around HAWK was ever straightforward—and nothing she could do to help. She had done her work, she was sure, but the fighting was out there. The ‘Mechs, the pilots…

Karrie. Visions came of her friend, her anchor, tired and hurting in her cockpit, far away from where Sigrid could help.

You should be with her.

It wasn’t true, she knew this. But that didn’t make that part of her shut up.

She had never been a fighter. She was a scout. Even with a ‘Mech, she was never one to shield or to protect or take out an aggressor. She was eyes. She was ears. She was the one who told her lance what was ahead.

She was safety, she was there to make sure everyone else could do their jobs.

She was there to support.

That she could do.

She set the valve assembly down on the table.

She would be ready when the ‘Mechs came home.

[on-a-mechtechnicality]

It was ten years after Nieuwegein and Sigrid Guntran was fine.

Her colleagues hadn’t noticed. Maybe they thought she just had a case of the Fridays. Maybe the feeling that it was taking seconds to find her words was all in her head. It didn’t matter.

And now she was ‘home’. Her sparse apartment furnished with leftovers from the shop and not much else. She needed to get out of her jumpsuit.

The smell of the shop lingered. Heated metal and oil and grease. The rugged fabric chafed against the uneven surface of her shoulder. In her mind the smells mingled with ozone and gunpowder and panic.

She felt the white-hot pain in her shoulder. In her arm. Through her torso. Ten years to the day, and it still lingered. She wondered if she’d ever be free. Be able to feel again without the fear. It didn’t matter.

She needed to get out of her jumpsuit.

She willed her hand to move. Willed her body to complete the motions. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep going like this. She was fine.

She needed to get out.

It didn’t matter.

She was fine.

--

Art by @casketjones

[on-a-mechtechnicality]

“Yeah, it’s my first time spending this long on a new planet too. The day/night cycle took the longest for me to get used to, it’s so different. Sky looks amazing at night though.”

She took a step backwards, looking between Creole’s weapon mounts to see the cables connecting the ‘Mech to JollyBaby; power, telemetry, communication, coolant. Disconnecting them in the right order was important.

She ran through the pre-launch procedure in her mind. Visual inspection, armament safety, bay communication, powerup, undocking, and finally the walk-out.

“I bet it’ll be even stranger for you, if it’s your first time. vDNI can pick up things like wind and rain, right?”

She moved back over the ‘Mech’s centerline to where Em was standing. Something was off about her posture. With the ‘Mech and pilot being as connected as Em and Creole were, maybe pre-launch checks should include the pilot too.

She recognized the tense shoulders and stillness from herself, whenever she neared her limit. Em’s hands, open and animated whenever Sigrid had seen them, laced together on her abdomen. If Em was feeling that tense, it would make smoothly piloting a vDNI 'Mech harder than it needed to be. That was at least part of the problem identified. A solution proved trickier.

She had no script to follow, nothing to fall back on. Whenever she herself had felt tense enough to freeze up like that, she had managed to push past on willpower alone. Her willpower wasn’t going to reach Em. She needed something else.

She seems to like you, you know

She hoped it was true, and she hoped that was enough.

“Would you like to take a moment before you step out, to gather yourself?”

Sigrid made her way to the JollyBaby, carrying a much lighter load this time. A single folder under her arm, work boots making crunching in the remnants of the snow. As she entered the ship proper, the crisp Helios air outside seemed stale in comparison.

She made her way through the maze of corridors. Last time she was here, her journey ended with her finding the largest space aboard the ship; the MechBay. This time, the signs she was following set her on another route; the briefing room.

Two things tended to make her feel more uncomfortable than she usually did, small spaces and official meetings. She’d take a long shift in a dirty MechLab over a short one filled with command staff. But that didn’t matter.

It was her name on the report. She performed the inspection, she wrote down the findings, she signed it, and she had handed it off to Commanding General Hazen. It was only right that she would be the one to review it with Ms. Ash. It was Correct.

Still, as she came face to face with the closed door labeled ‘Briefing Room’, she hoped her nervousness didn’t come through too much.

Sigrid knocked on the door.

@the-emmapult

[on-a-mechtechnicality]

Ms. Ash’s question stopped Sigrid in her tracks just as she reached the door. It was near the end of her shift, and even with Helios’ long days, the sun would soon be setting outside. On the other hand, she didn’t have anything scheduled until she was off, and the meeting had gone by smoothly and quickly.

“I still have some time left before I clock out, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

She made sure to give Em some room to stand up in, retreating to a corner next to the door.

“Em, would you lead the way?”

Sigrid made her way to the JollyBaby, carrying a much lighter load this time. A single folder under her arm, work boots making crunching in the remnants of the snow. As she entered the ship proper, the crisp Helios air outside seemed stale in comparison.

She made her way through the maze of corridors. Last time she was here, her journey ended with her finding the largest space aboard the ship; the MechBay. This time, the signs she was following set her on another route; the briefing room.

Two things tended to make her feel more uncomfortable than she usually did, small spaces and official meetings. She’d take a long shift in a dirty MechLab over a short one filled with command staff. But that didn’t matter.

It was her name on the report. She performed the inspection, she wrote down the findings, she signed it, and she had handed it off to Commanding General Hazen. It was only right that she would be the one to review it with Ms. Ash. It was Correct.

Still, as she came face to face with the closed door labeled ‘Briefing Room’, she hoped her nervousness didn’t come through too much.

Sigrid knocked on the door.

@the-emmapult

[on-a-mechtechnicality]

“--which should cover everything in here. If you have any questions I’d be happy to answer them, Ms. Ash,” Sigrid finished as she turned over the last page.

She felt a touch on her shoulder, and turned to see Em holding a strip of high-temp flexwire almost the same color as the patch on her shoulder. That might have been why she didn’t spot it when she got dressed.

“Ah, thank you Em.”

She turned her attention back to Kim just to catch her shaking her head. No more questions then, the review was over. She took stock of the situation; Kim was sitting across from her, looking at the report and resting her head in her hand. Em next to her, turning the flexwire over in her gloved hands. Sigrid’s shoulders were tense, her jaw locked pretty solid. Expected after an important meeting.

“”I think that’s all from me for now then. It’s been good seeing you both, and I’m looking forward to welcoming Creole in the MechLab.”

She stood from her seat and moved towards the door, maneuvering around Em in the process.

Sigrid made her way to the JollyBaby, carrying a much lighter load this time. A single folder under her arm, work boots making crunching in the remnants of the snow. As she entered the ship proper, the crisp Helios air outside seemed stale in comparison.

She made her way through the maze of corridors. Last time she was here, her journey ended with her finding the largest space aboard the ship; the MechBay. This time, the signs she was following set her on another route; the briefing room.

Two things tended to make her feel more uncomfortable than she usually did, small spaces and official meetings. She’d take a long shift in a dirty MechLab over a short one filled with command staff. But that didn’t matter.

It was her name on the report. She performed the inspection, she wrote down the findings, she signed it, and she had handed it off to Commanding General Hazen. It was only right that she would be the one to review it with Ms. Ash. It was Correct.

Still, as she came face to face with the closed door labeled ‘Briefing Room’, she hoped her nervousness didn’t come through too much.

Sigrid knocked on the door.

@the-emmapult

[on-a-mechtechnicality]

Sigrid turns around to the door and a welcoming smile spreads on her face when she sees who is standing in the door frame.

"Em, good to see you. Ms. Ash and I were going over Creole's reports.”

She had hoped for another chance to see her again, to share in her enthusiasm and get lost in technical details. She turns back to face across the desk.

“With your permission, Em could join the review. She’s cleared to receive a copy, and I believe her contributions could be valuable.”

Her eyes meet Em’s unmoving visor that nevertheless looked warm and welcoming. Maybe it was because she had seen underneath, maybe it was because she had seen how much she loved life, sitting atop Creole.

“If you’d be up for that, that is?”

She liked the idea of spending more time with Em, but it was important to do the correct thing. Maybe she could have both.

“We were covering the details on the VANILLA hip joint timeout issue we fixed, and evaluating ways to prevent a repeat or a regression. So far we identified two possible methods of creating a backup and restore routine. Having you be here would make it easier to verify that they work for the pilot as well as the ‘Mech.”

Sigrid made her way to the JollyBaby, carrying a much lighter load this time. A single folder under her arm, work boots making crunching in the remnants of the snow. As she entered the ship proper, the crisp Helios air outside seemed stale in comparison.

She made her way through the maze of corridors. Last time she was here, her journey ended with her finding the largest space aboard the ship; the MechBay. This time, the signs she was following set her on another route; the briefing room.

Two things tended to make her feel more uncomfortable than she usually did, small spaces and official meetings. She’d take a long shift in a dirty MechLab over a short one filled with command staff. But that didn’t matter.

It was her name on the report. She performed the inspection, she wrote down the findings, she signed it, and she had handed it off to Commanding General Hazen. It was only right that she would be the one to review it with Ms. Ash. It was Correct.

Still, as she came face to face with the closed door labeled ‘Briefing Room’, she hoped her nervousness didn’t come through too much.

Sigrid knocked on the door.

@the-emmapult

[on-a-mechtechnicality]

Sigrid's attention snaps back from her thoughts to the report.

"I was able to address that one on the spot. Here."

She moves next to Ms. Ash and flips the report a few pages along.

"There was nothing wrong with the hardware, just a software issue that added some unwanted latency to the VANILLA uplink for that component. A known-good backup of Creole's configuration should be able to prevent it happening in the future. If you'd like, I can coordinate with your 'Techs to have it done, or we will be able to create one during the upcoming work."

She moves back to her position, a correct distance away.

"With your approval we can add a note to the work order. It might be good to have Em on standby so we can perform a full test once refits are completed."

Sigrid made her way to the JollyBaby, carrying a much lighter load this time. A single folder under her arm, work boots making crunching in the remnants of the snow. As she entered the ship proper, the crisp Helios air outside seemed stale in comparison.

She made her way through the maze of corridors. Last time she was here, her journey ended with her finding the largest space aboard the ship; the MechBay. This time, the signs she was following set her on another route; the briefing room.

Two things tended to make her feel more uncomfortable than she usually did, small spaces and official meetings. She’d take a long shift in a dirty MechLab over a short one filled with command staff. But that didn’t matter.

It was her name on the report. She performed the inspection, she wrote down the findings, she signed it, and she had handed it off to Commanding General Hazen. It was only right that she would be the one to review it with Ms. Ash. It was Correct.

Still, as she came face to face with the closed door labeled ‘Briefing Room’, she hoped her nervousness didn’t come through too much.

Sigrid knocked on the door.

@the-emmapult

[on-a-mechtechnicality]

Sigrid took a long breath. Deep in, slow out.

Thinking back on her time in the militia was always hard. A long day of work didn’t make it easier. She could feel her hand start to tremble against Spirit’s gloved fingers, but she didn’t pull away.

“I was with the Utrecht militia, tested in at a fairly young age… I guess having always had an interest in ‘Mechs helped me there.”

Had she ever really fit in? She had always liked ‘Mechs more than people. They felt safer, easier to predict.

“I was a scout. Forward observer, ahead of the pack.”

She didn’t like being in the spotlight. Didn’t want the kills or the glory or the recognition.

“We’d received word that there was some suspicious activity in Nieuwegein, so they deployed a lance. I was on point in a Flea.”

Urban environments are always harder to fight in. Harder to build up speed.

“The reports had said that a group calling themselves the Hand der Vrijheid - named after a Star League era extremist group - had heavier equipment than they were supposed to have access to.”

A forward observer only has a single job. Report back what you see, so that the rest of the lance can do their job.

“I picked up a weak EM signature. It read like a small emergency generator for a warehouse.”

Had to be fast, had to act on instinct, had to be sure.

“Turns out the warehouse was shielded. I rounded the corner into a Rifleman.”

An almost whispered ‘oh no’ from Spirit brought her out of her memories and back to her quarters. Spirit seemed to sway ever so slightly in front of her. She blinked, and felt her tears from tracks across her cheeks. Spirit wasn’t swaying.

Her hands had stopped trembling somewhere during her tale. One of them touching a gloved hand, the other’s knuckles white around her carabiner. In her mind the memories played before her.

“I stared down at six barrels of laser fire, got my Flea moving before my mind had even caught up.”

Can’t breathe, out of the way, anywhere, anything, please, move, MOVE

“I managed to dodge, just enough that not the entire alpha strike landed.”

Streaks of green, streaks of blue, coming right for her. Nothing she could do, nowhere she could run.

“One hit the cockpit, three into my side torso.”

Everything was loud. Everything was quiet. Orange flames all around her. Blinding white from her left. Sharp pain, jagged streaks on her arms.

“Ammo cooked off instantly– they told me they could see the fireball from blocks away.”

It hurts it hurts it hurts I can’t fight I can’t run I can’t get out I can’t–

“I slammed my ‘Mech into a water tower, tried to angle it backwards. I remember feeling for the ejection.”

I can’t see, it hurts I can’t–

“Last thing I remember after punching out was the roof of the water tower hitting me at eject velocity.”

Can’t breathe, can’t feel my arm–

“Next thing I know I’m bleeding out on the outskirts of town. Sand everywhere, couldn’t move, couldn’t see. Didn’t know if I still had half my torso.”

Sand and grit and blood and pain I can’t I can’t I can’t–

She takes a deep, shaky breath and tries to blink away the last of the tears.

“Sometimes when I close my eyes, I’m back in the cockpit. Back in Nieuwegein.”

Her hand comes down from her carabiner, color slowly flowing back to her knuckles.

“I see the greens, the blues, licks of orange and the white glow. Seared into my mind as much as my flesh.”

Sigrid made her way to her quarters through the maze of corridors that was the DropShip interior. It had been a long shift and she was tired, though she worked hard to prevent anyone from noticing just by looking at her. Her strides were as sure as ever, but it took even more effort than usual to keep them that way.

As she made her way deeper into the interior, further away from the outside hull, the sounds of rain quieted down. Though even the combination of armor and bulkheads could completely shut out the thunderstorm raging overhead. It reminded her of Utrecht, watching the lightning play over mountains from her bedroom window.

Step after step, one foot in front of the other, she made her way to her destination. It hadn’t even been the work that had been particularly grueling, it was doing the work while being ready to be interrupted at any moment, all while keeping her emotions at bay.

It had been so nice to not have to be afraid anymore, just for a single evening, but she didn’t have that luxury now. Karrie was busy, and it wouldn’t be fair to put that on her now. Was it ever really fair to rely on her like that?

She closed her door behind her, and released the breath she was holding. At least here she didn’t have to worry about being on guard, about keeping her mask on. Compared to the busier areas she just passed through, the silence here was almost louder. She could feel it ringing in her ears.

Sigrid closed her eyes to will the ringing to stop. It almost worked, just like it almost worked every time. Still, it was nice to not have to keep up appearances anymore. Maybe after a shower things would feel a bit calmer and she could try to relax. She reached for the zipper on her coveralls.

There was a knock on the door, and her hand halted its trajectory. All the deferred momentum seemed to go straight to her heart rate.

She managed to get her hand under control and opened the door. She wasn’t sure who she was expecting, maybe Karrie, maybe Melissa. In truth she wasn’t expecting anything. Somewhere far down the list of anythings she wasn’t expecting was the Spirit of Helios.

And yet a black-tinted neurohelmet and a face-concealing respirator stared back at her, somehow managing to look inquisitive.

It took Sigrid longer than she’d have liked to find her words.

“Good evening?”

@jaded-falcon

[on-a-mechtechnicality]

Sigrid returned the gesture with a warm smile, taking Kim’s hand and shaking it precisely. She practiced this movement, she knew how much force is appropriate. It was important to do it correctly.

“Thank you, I try to do the best work I can within the constraints I’m given. I’m happy it was to your satisfaction.”

She placed the folder on a mostly-empty spot on the table and opened it to the first page. Something in the back of Sigrid’s mind was trying to draw her attention, but it didn’t matter.

“I figured we could start with the management summary, and then make our way from there.”

The something was insistent.

“You can see the checks all came in clear. The table is sorted by top-down, and then left-to-right on the ‘Mech. On the Catapult the cockpit is technically lower down than the torsos, but it goes by technical readout layout to keep it consistent among chassis types.”

Maybe it was important.

“I’ll let you have a moment to look through it, see if it all makes sense.”

She seems to like you, you know?

Sigrid paused, grateful that Ms. Ash was going over the report, and turned the statement over in her mind.

People had appreciated her work before, that was nothing new. She was a good MechTech and she knew it. Given enough time and resources, she could fix almost anything that could be wrong with a ‘Mech.

People had respected her for her skills. Melissa, Theodora. She was a good asset to have in any organization that dealt with ‘Mechs, industrial or battle.

She knew she was loved. She could tell Karrie did. She knew the deep bond they share, of shared experiences and mutual comfort. She worked hard to break down her own walls, and let her in. To show what she could offer in return.

But to just be liked? For being who she was? It was a novel thought.

Sigrid made her way to the JollyBaby, carrying a much lighter load this time. A single folder under her arm, work boots making crunching in the remnants of the snow. As she entered the ship proper, the crisp Helios air outside seemed stale in comparison.

She made her way through the maze of corridors. Last time she was here, her journey ended with her finding the largest space aboard the ship; the MechBay. This time, the signs she was following set her on another route; the briefing room.

Two things tended to make her feel more uncomfortable than she usually did, small spaces and official meetings. She’d take a long shift in a dirty MechLab over a short one filled with command staff. But that didn’t matter.

It was her name on the report. She performed the inspection, she wrote down the findings, she signed it, and she had handed it off to Commanding General Hazen. It was only right that she would be the one to review it with Ms. Ash. It was Correct.

Still, as she came face to face with the closed door labeled ‘Briefing Room’, she hoped her nervousness didn’t come through too much.

Sigrid knocked on the door.

@the-emmapult

[on-a-mechtechnicality]

Sigrid opens the door and takes in the sights before her. A table covered in paper, an ashtray that looked like it should have been emptied about a pack ago and a very worn-out looking Kimberly Ash greet her.

“Good morning, Ms. Ash. Sigrid Guntran. We met briefly for the inspection and I’ve got the report here for review.”

She closes the door behind her and stands ready with the folder.

“Where would you like this?”

Sigrid made her way to the JollyBaby, carrying a much lighter load this time. A single folder under her arm, work boots making crunching in the remnants of the snow. As she entered the ship proper, the crisp Helios air outside seemed stale in comparison.

She made her way through the maze of corridors. Last time she was here, her journey ended with her finding the largest space aboard the ship; the MechBay. This time, the signs she was following set her on another route; the briefing room.

Two things tended to make her feel more uncomfortable than she usually did, small spaces and official meetings. She’d take a long shift in a dirty MechLab over a short one filled with command staff. But that didn’t matter.

It was her name on the report. She performed the inspection, she wrote down the findings, she signed it, and she had handed it off to Commanding General Hazen. It was only right that she would be the one to review it with Ms. Ash. It was Correct.

Still, as she came face to face with the closed door labeled ‘Briefing Room’, she hoped her nervousness didn’t come through too much.

Sigrid knocked on the door.

@the-emmapult

[on-a-mechtechnicality]

Sigrid made her way to the JollyBaby, carrying a much lighter load this time. A single folder under her arm, work boots making crunching in the remnants of the snow. As she entered the ship proper, the crisp Helios air outside seemed stale in comparison.

She made her way through the maze of corridors. Last time she was here, her journey ended with her finding the largest space aboard the ship; the MechBay. This time, the signs she was following set her on another route; the briefing room.

Two things tended to make her feel more uncomfortable than she usually did, small spaces and official meetings. She’d take a long shift in a dirty MechLab over a short one filled with command staff. But that didn’t matter.

It was her name on the report. She performed the inspection, she wrote down the findings, she signed it, and she had handed it off to Commanding General Hazen. It was only right that she would be the one to review it with Ms. Ash. It was Correct.

Still, as she came face to face with the closed door labeled ‘Briefing Room’, she hoped her nervousness didn’t come through too much.

Sigrid knocked on the door.

@the-emmapult

[on-a-mechtechnicality]

Sigrid broke off from the pair and headed into the interior of the ship. She experienced this time and time again, the differences in scale between the open air, the almost claustrophobic inner labyrinth of the ship, and the space needed to house a full BattleMech.

The first sign she spotted directed her to her right, and then left. Deeper into the guts of JollyBaby. As she moved further from the outside world, the unique sound texture of the ship became more apparent. Each ship had a voice, a combination of engines, grav-gen, life support, environmental controls, and everything else. 

JollyBaby whispered. Her engines were turned off, the hum of the auxiliary generator barely audible. But the rush of fresh air from every vent surprised her. Even outside, in the barely-touched atmosphere of icy Helios the air didn’t feel this crisp. She stopped walking for a moment to take it all in. Was it her imagination, or did the life support really sound different? Like it was working harder and being much more optimized at the same time.

When she resumed her walk, the next crossroads was right ahead. Properly signposted as promised, but for this one she didn’t need it. As soon as she could see into the corridor, she was met with the vibrant oranges and pinks of the Creole.

As she entered the space, she found the pilot as well. Above the cockpit someone was lying down on the ‘Mech, not moving.

“Are you alright?”

She moved the next few steps, looking for a reaction.

“I’m Sigrid. I’m here for the inspection?”

@the-emmapult

[on-a-mechtechnicality]

Sigrid nods. “That sounds good. Best to stay as far away from that two-hour mark as we can.”

She stands up and finds the button for the airlock.

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Em.”

She pushes the button and disappears out of view of the cockpit. Through Creole’s eyes Em sees Sigrid gather the tools she left outside and make her way down the gantries. As she reaches Creole’s right foot, she pauses, and a sense of touch reaches her. More vibrant than it did through the glove.

“I’m looking forward to next time,” comes Sigrid’s voice through Creole’s ears.

And with that she disappears beyond the hangar doors.

Sigrid broke off from the pair and headed into the interior of the ship. She experienced this time and time again, the differences in scale between the open air, the almost claustrophobic inner labyrinth of the ship, and the space needed to house a full BattleMech.

The first sign she spotted directed her to her right, and then left. Deeper into the guts of JollyBaby. As she moved further from the outside world, the unique sound texture of the ship became more apparent. Each ship had a voice, a combination of engines, grav-gen, life support, environmental controls, and everything else. 

JollyBaby whispered. Her engines were turned off, the hum of the auxiliary generator barely audible. But the rush of fresh air from every vent surprised her. Even outside, in the barely-touched atmosphere of icy Helios the air didn’t feel this crisp. She stopped walking for a moment to take it all in. Was it her imagination, or did the life support really sound different? Like it was working harder and being much more optimized at the same time.

When she resumed her walk, the next crossroads was right ahead. Properly signposted as promised, but for this one she didn’t need it. As soon as she could see into the corridor, she was met with the vibrant oranges and pinks of the Creole.

As she entered the space, she found the pilot as well. Above the cockpit someone was lying down on the ‘Mech, not moving.

“Are you alright?”

She moved the next few steps, looking for a reaction.

“I’m Sigrid. I’m here for the inspection?”

@the-emmapult

[on-a-mechtechnicality]

“I think I have everything I need from Creole and you. Thank you so much for inviting me in.”

Sigrid bundles up her cables and sits down in her spot. Despite the small space, she finds it very easy to breathe here.

“What about you though? Do you have anything you need from me? Or anything you’d like me to look at while we’re here?”

She looks up above her, where Em seems tense. Like she’s oscillating between emotional states extremely quickly. Sigrid reaches her hand up.

Sigrid broke off from the pair and headed into the interior of the ship. She experienced this time and time again, the differences in scale between the open air, the almost claustrophobic inner labyrinth of the ship, and the space needed to house a full BattleMech.

The first sign she spotted directed her to her right, and then left. Deeper into the guts of JollyBaby. As she moved further from the outside world, the unique sound texture of the ship became more apparent. Each ship had a voice, a combination of engines, grav-gen, life support, environmental controls, and everything else. 

JollyBaby whispered. Her engines were turned off, the hum of the auxiliary generator barely audible. But the rush of fresh air from every vent surprised her. Even outside, in the barely-touched atmosphere of icy Helios the air didn’t feel this crisp. She stopped walking for a moment to take it all in. Was it her imagination, or did the life support really sound different? Like it was working harder and being much more optimized at the same time.

When she resumed her walk, the next crossroads was right ahead. Properly signposted as promised, but for this one she didn’t need it. As soon as she could see into the corridor, she was met with the vibrant oranges and pinks of the Creole.

As she entered the space, she found the pilot as well. Above the cockpit someone was lying down on the ‘Mech, not moving.

“Are you alright?”

She moved the next few steps, looking for a reaction.

“I’m Sigrid. I’m here for the inspection?”

@the-emmapult

[on-a-mechtechnicality]

“I believe so. Though it may take a little while to find the root cause. You said an hour or two should be safe, correct?”

On Em’s nod, Sigrid brought up a diagnostic view of not just the log, but Creole’s full operating system. Every node, every subsystem in view. She focused on the right leg, then the hip joint, then the actuator and finally the actuator communication module. The warning came from here.

Representations of logs, configuration files, and adjacent systems all moved under her fingertips until she found the culprit. One of the fields was not configured.

Not a problem, just needed to find the corresponding value in–

Oh.

She looked up at Em sitting above her. She looked serene, more at peace than Sigrid had seen her before. Like she was whole. Sitting here in the cockpit with Creole’s systems idling and Em in the comfortable silence, she looked like she belonged.

“Em?”

She hadn’t wanted to break the quiet, feeling almost like an intruder in this space. She watched Em blink, and then turn to face her again.

“Have you found something?”

“I have, but… I would need some data that’s stored in your implant. There should be a debug port.”

It was a moment before Em answered. Emotions flashed across her face, too hard to read in the darkness. She wasn’t sure if it was because neither of them made a sound, or if the climate control was a little louder than before.

“Go ahead.”

Sigrid stood up, hunched in the small cockpit, and took out a bundle of cables. She looked through each one until she found one with a square magnetic connector. She plugged the other end into her tablet and looked back over to Em, still in the same position she was in when she answered the question. On seeing Sigrid with the cable in hand, she leaned forward towards the console.

Sigrid’s voice was gentle and calm. “May I connect to you?”

Em’s reply was steady. “Yes.”

Connector in hand, Sigrid moved aside a lock of pure white hair to expose the port in the base of her skull. The connector snapped into place with a soft click.

It took her only a few taps on her tablet to find the values she was looking for, and just as soon as the connection started, she broke it again, not wanting to expose Em to more risk than was strictly needed.

Data in hand, she adjusted the values where needed and initialized the log. Everything was green across the board.

“How does that feel?”

Sigrid broke off from the pair and headed into the interior of the ship. She experienced this time and time again, the differences in scale between the open air, the almost claustrophobic inner labyrinth of the ship, and the space needed to house a full BattleMech.

The first sign she spotted directed her to her right, and then left. Deeper into the guts of JollyBaby. As she moved further from the outside world, the unique sound texture of the ship became more apparent. Each ship had a voice, a combination of engines, grav-gen, life support, environmental controls, and everything else. 

JollyBaby whispered. Her engines were turned off, the hum of the auxiliary generator barely audible. But the rush of fresh air from every vent surprised her. Even outside, in the barely-touched atmosphere of icy Helios the air didn’t feel this crisp. She stopped walking for a moment to take it all in. Was it her imagination, or did the life support really sound different? Like it was working harder and being much more optimized at the same time.

When she resumed her walk, the next crossroads was right ahead. Properly signposted as promised, but for this one she didn’t need it. As soon as she could see into the corridor, she was met with the vibrant oranges and pinks of the Creole.

As she entered the space, she found the pilot as well. Above the cockpit someone was lying down on the ‘Mech, not moving.

“Are you alright?”

She moved the next few steps, looking for a reaction.

“I’m Sigrid. I’m here for the inspection?”

@the-emmapult

[on-a-mechtechnicality]

The activity was immediately apparent to Sigrid, as new diagnostic information rushed across her screen, flying faster even than a ‘Mech’s powerup usually did. Green line after green line shot past.

And then orange in between.

Sigrid stopped the real-time scroll and went back. Orange was a warning. Nothing as serious as a red error, but still worth looking into.

[WARN] RL-H act.comm T-O; Retrying

She scrolled a little further, to see its green counterpart.

[OK] RL-H act.comm established

Nothing too serious then, but still. She re-enabled live monitoring and noticed the orange line kept popping up, every few seconds.

“Em, I’m getting some odd readings here. Can you tell me if Creole’s right hip joint feels off to you?”

Sigrid broke off from the pair and headed into the interior of the ship. She experienced this time and time again, the differences in scale between the open air, the almost claustrophobic inner labyrinth of the ship, and the space needed to house a full BattleMech.

The first sign she spotted directed her to her right, and then left. Deeper into the guts of JollyBaby. As she moved further from the outside world, the unique sound texture of the ship became more apparent. Each ship had a voice, a combination of engines, grav-gen, life support, environmental controls, and everything else. 

JollyBaby whispered. Her engines were turned off, the hum of the auxiliary generator barely audible. But the rush of fresh air from every vent surprised her. Even outside, in the barely-touched atmosphere of icy Helios the air didn’t feel this crisp. She stopped walking for a moment to take it all in. Was it her imagination, or did the life support really sound different? Like it was working harder and being much more optimized at the same time.

When she resumed her walk, the next crossroads was right ahead. Properly signposted as promised, but for this one she didn’t need it. As soon as she could see into the corridor, she was met with the vibrant oranges and pinks of the Creole.

As she entered the space, she found the pilot as well. Above the cockpit someone was lying down on the ‘Mech, not moving.

“Are you alright?”

She moved the next few steps, looking for a reaction.

“I’m Sigrid. I’m here for the inspection?”

@the-emmapult

[on-a-mechtechnicality]

Sigrid looked up as Em lifted her helmet. The gesture was so simple, but the trust it showed overflowed the small space they were in. Sigrid looked up from her position on the floor, knowing how much this moment had to mean to Em.

The first thing she saw was pale white hair, almost the color of the visor. She lifted the helmet forward, and then turned to look at her. It was almost impossible to read her expression.

The colors of indicator lights danced across her face, joined by Sigrid’s tablet.

“This is you,”

Unlike Creole’s vibrant sunset exterior, the colors inside the cockpit were muted. Greys and blacks, now accompanied by the greens of their clothes. Em’s porcelain face stood out against the darkness like a full moon, as if the light in the cockpit was concentrated on her.

The only place the glow didn’t reach were her eyes, red in a sea of white, which were alight with a different kind of warmth entirely.

“And I am honored that I get to see.”

Sigrid broke off from the pair and headed into the interior of the ship. She experienced this time and time again, the differences in scale between the open air, the almost claustrophobic inner labyrinth of the ship, and the space needed to house a full BattleMech.

The first sign she spotted directed her to her right, and then left. Deeper into the guts of JollyBaby. As she moved further from the outside world, the unique sound texture of the ship became more apparent. Each ship had a voice, a combination of engines, grav-gen, life support, environmental controls, and everything else. 

JollyBaby whispered. Her engines were turned off, the hum of the auxiliary generator barely audible. But the rush of fresh air from every vent surprised her. Even outside, in the barely-touched atmosphere of icy Helios the air didn’t feel this crisp. She stopped walking for a moment to take it all in. Was it her imagination, or did the life support really sound different? Like it was working harder and being much more optimized at the same time.

When she resumed her walk, the next crossroads was right ahead. Properly signposted as promised, but for this one she didn’t need it. As soon as she could see into the corridor, she was met with the vibrant oranges and pinks of the Creole.

As she entered the space, she found the pilot as well. Above the cockpit someone was lying down on the ‘Mech, not moving.

“Are you alright?”

She moved the next few steps, looking for a reaction.

“I’m Sigrid. I’m here for the inspection?”

@the-emmapult