Scarlet Steel

“This is your wakeup notification. You have a meeting in one hour, and two waiting notifications.” Andromeda announces.

“Ugh.” I roll out of bed before my brain catches up. “I have a notification!” I scramble for my phone, pulling it off my side table. Two letters are waiting for me. Mom’s is less scary. I hit the notification and take a breath.

Dearest Scarlet,

I’m always glad to hear from you, and even more so to hear that you’re doing so well. I understand how painful it must have been to undo all your work, but trust Juno. She’ll always have your best interests at heart.

Things have been quiet here, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Some rest and relaxation have done me well, and I’ve stayed busy where I can. I’ve started offering my assistance at the recycling plant, doing a little maintenance. I’ll need to keep myself sharp, especially if you’re going to be requesting my assistance in the future.

For the record, that’s a joke. You don’t need your mom double checking your work and reminding you to eat in front of everyone. If you really need me, I’ll help, of course. Never have any doubt that I’d do anything for you. But I’m alright here, enjoying my retirement. And I’m looking forward to enjoying it with you when you’re ready, and maybe a friend if Exa is to be believed.

I hope Exa told you she’s been messaging me, so don’t worry if you find yourself busy. Niel often found himself busy as well.

Finally, not to doubt you, but I find it very amusing that your message mentioned two safe missions, and concludes with the fact that you got damaged enough to need repairs. Stay safe, alright? And don’t feel the need to hide how your missions truly go. I’ve heard it all from your dad, every bullet, every emotion, both in person and in letters.

Wishing you the best,

Love, Mom

I blink away tears and start to write.

Sorry I lied. Neither mission was exactly safe. The first one was the result of a secret I’m sure I’m not allowed to speak about, and I’m sure Exa would change my letter if I tried to. It got us a lot of attention, and ended with us running for our lives before Earth showed up to save us. I didn’t have to, but when a fight broke out and Juno was in trouble, I bypassed Exa’s restrictions, spliced the firing mechanism, and fired at her attacker. It ended up how you think it would.

The second mission I was actually a part of. I took fire while I scouted to let Graff land missiles, but with an extra capacitor to absorb the fire. That didn’t cause too much damage, but when I retreated back to Graff, two Hoppers assaulted us. He took down their shields, and I slowed them down to let us escape. That much gunfire in close range got through some of my armor, but didn’t even dent the plates between me and my console. I didn’t kill anyone there though, just took out the knees and outran them. I got Graff out safe too, and Juno and Janus completed their half of the mission as well.

We’ve got another mission coming up, and a meeting in an hour. We’re assaulting a space station, which will be fine unless the gravity fails. I’ve been practicing for that possibility, but there’s only so much a Hopper can do. I can fight, but we’ll see how well I can actually fight without gravity.

I’m really glad to hear from you, and I’ll send a second message as soon as the mission is done. I’m looking forward to seeing you in person whenever we’re nearby, but we’re still heading towards Mnemosyne space right now. Love you so much.

That feels good to write, like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. And now for the scary part. How can I fight for my life without an issue, but reading a letter from a girl makes my hands shake? Whatever, there’s no way around it.

I knew the Q line was congested, but I didn’t expect it to be THAT congested. Well, ok, I did, but I hoped it would get through faster. Also, no worries on checking a bunch for my first letter! I did the same for yours.

“Shit.” I really put that in my first letter? Why the heck did I do that? Wait, but does that mean she was looking forward to my letter as much as I was to hers? Is that good?

I’m glad your mission went well, and I’m glad you’ve been more entertained then I have. Things have been awful here. Well, no, not awful, but uneventful. I’ve been working a ton, but not meeting anyone interesting. Do you ever watch shows? I’ve been watching a lot of them. Your designs have helped a ton keeping me entertained though! On your project mech, watch brace B-11, you’ll want to reinforce it to handle lateral impacts. I’ve attached a few additional notes to go with that, but that’s the biggest weak point I’ve noticed.

On the topic of blueprints, oh my God! That’s a hell of a fight you were in! I know it’s not exactly a safe job, but stay safe regardless.

“Andromeda, can you tell Exa thank you for the idea to send Tera the blueprints instead of a picture?”

“Confirmed. She says you’re welcome.”

“Thank you!”

I still can’t believe you called our little drone Spidey. You better actually call her that around your crew, not just me. I have some… strong opinions about people who use the wrong name just because it’s inconvenient or they think it’s embarrassing.

But yeah, I think that’s all I have going on. Looking forward to hearing from you more!

“Ok!” She doesn’t think I’m weird! That’s a great start! And she’s not mad at me! Not that I thought she would be, but you know, the possibility was there.

Before I write a response, I quickly pore over the attachment. Tera has made notes on almost every single part of my project mech’s makeshift blueprints. Sitting at the top is a reassurance that she can tell this is a rough draft, and to not feel bad about how much she noticed. Still, I should have worked harder before sending it.

Hey! The round trip time on these messages is a little rough, but I’m glad I get to talk regardless.

I got to see Old Earth Design’s entire mech line recently! Well, most of it at least. We stopped in at a dealership to buy more parts, and they had everything but a Black Sheep on display. I guess it’s living up to its name, but it still feels wrong. I don’t know if I’m being silly, but it feels rude to not have one there. If I built one in the junkyard, I’d be proud to show her off!

Don’t worry, everyone knows Spidey’s name. Or at least Exa does, and word spreads quickly between AI. And of course AI and their pilots share everything, so yeah, everyone knows. I don’t even know why I’d try to hide it, my Hopper’s name is Hoppy, you can’t get much worse than that.

I’ve been training to move in zero g. It’s certainly not what a hopper was designed for, and I’m definitely feeling that, but we have a mission on a station coming up. If Janus loses control of the systems and they turn off the gravity, I have to be able to move. I’ll be fine of course, I’m just a little nervous about the possibility. It’d be easier if I had a mech with arms like Juno’s Rhino, but oh well.

Thank you so much for your feedback on my plans. Just from a quick glance, you’ve easily saved me days of poring over my rough draft. Days that I’m not sure when I’ll get next.

I have stopped working every possible moment at least! I just work most of the time now. It turns out relaxing is important or something. I don’t watch shows though, they’ve never been my thing, but also I’ve really never tried. Let me know if there’s anything I should give a shot.

Yeah, looking forward to hearing from you more! Talk to you soon.

“Andromeda, can you ask Exa to hit the send button?”

“Confirmed.” Andromeda responds at the same moment my phone screen changes, notifying me that the message has been successfully sent.

One again I’m cursed with the knowledge of exactly how I could have made my message better. Whatever. Meeting time.

I throw off my sheets, pull on some clothes, and head downstairs. As always, I’m the last one awake. I’m still up before I have to be, that’s what matters.

“If we’re all here.” Juno nods towards the center console, and I make my way over. Everyone else does the same as well, with Exa standing next to me. She slips a breakfast bar into my hand, and I give her a smile back in thanks.

“Station, right?” Graff asks. “Gonna be a shitshow, they always are.”

“What op isn’t?” Juno asks, and the holographic table flares to life. The same station the man who hired us displayed, only in better detail. “Janus, you start.”

“My preferred ingress is here.” He points to a dead end on the station, a room with no doors. No way in or out, and no place to dock. “I’ve already probed their security systems. She’s talented, certainly, but inexperienced. The connector they’re using to attach this storage room to their hallway system uses a UX-178 connector. It’s a standard universal connector, but off brand. We can dock the ship to it no problem. However, it does have a small exploit. I can detach the room at will.”

“That’s small?” I ask.

“The actual vulnerability is small, the cascading result of exploiting it? Not so much. I recommend moving most of the cybersecurity suite to the dropship, the direct connection will give me good bandwidth. I’ll be able to fight the AI and gain the upper hand.”

“And if you can’t?” Juno asks.

“We’re fighting in zero g and are going to be forced to blow through automated bulkheads designed to prevent decompression in case of an emergency.”

“Is that a failure state?”

“Possibly not. Their defenses are primarily focused on the obvious points of entry, we won’t have many static encampments on our path. Any defenders we do encounter will be fighting in zero g as well, although I’ve been unable to discern what defenses they have through our long range scans. We’re going in partially blind.”

“Alright. Then what?”

“We reach the core.” A path is drawn through the twisting hallways, taking a meandering route. “Scans indicate their primary research lab is at the center of the station. If our prototype is there, I’ll know when we dock and I gain control. Otherwise, we apologize for the inconvenience, help them repair the damage we did, and have a conversation with our employer.”

“This is our best path?” Graff asks.

“It is. It avoids the most defenses, maximizes response time from personnel, and disguises our goal until we are close to our target.”

“Good.” Juno nods. “Apollo-4, keep in your extra capacitor system.”

“I’ll need to switch it back in.” I admit. “When we were finishing repairs, I thought I’d bring her back to stock.”

“Do it.” Juno nods. “When you’re done, pull the Aphids out of cold storage and run tests. We’re eight hours out. Apollo-3, you’re in the Switchblade running point alongside me. Swap out the engine limiter for a type 2, I want the extra power available to cut through bulkheads. If we need to break off, we’re running groups. Scarlet and Janus, you two are making up the rear guard. Stay in contact and keep each other safe. Scarlet, you’re running the biggest mech on this job, in an open fight in any of these rooms, we rally around you.”

“What do I need to do?” I ask.

“Be big and be visible. Untrained security shoots the largest target. In case of a security mech, the Switchblade is our heaviest hitter. We three push forward, give Graff cover, and ensure he reaches the target. Any questions?”

“I don’t think so.” I say, and glance at the chorus of no’s around the table.

“Confirmed. Get to work, people.”

I take a step back and head directly to the warehouse alongside Exa, followed closely by Graff and Xenia. Janus, on the other hand, heads upstairs, and Juno and Elara both remain at the table.

“So where do you keep the Aphids?” I ask. They’re not in the bays.

“They’re small enough to keep beneath the floor.” As if on cue, two small parts of the floor slide open. From the revealed compartment, two mechs rise. They’re distinctly humanoid, nine feet tall and bulky, with weapon systems embedded in both arms. It’s closer to a suit of armor than a mech.

“I’ve never understood where they fit the engine on these things. I know it’s built into the back, but still.”

“You can tear it apart another day. You want to get Hoppy set up and I’ll take care of these?”

“Sure.”

Exa strides forward towards the Aphid. The entire back of the mech opens, revealing just enough space for a human to stand inside, their arms and legs extending into the mech’s. The inside is coated with a gleaming liquid.

“Ah, shit.” She mumbles to herself.

Aphids fill the body compartment with a breathable, non-conductive liquid that’s drained into tanks when needed. It keeps the human from taking too much force when a projectile hits the armor.

“I assume that’s a leak?” I ask. “Need any help?”

“I got it.” She waves me off. “I’ll get them green, it’s just a lot of work, and the sensors should have alerted us.”

“Alright.” I get to work.