Moogle
Retired Member
Rebeka stood with Seiren at her side in the hanger before his OI-M8-1A frame. The thing was staunch, stocky and hunkered forward with its cockpit in her mind resembing a beer-gut.
"This is yours?"
"Yep!" Seiren proudly declared. His stance, hands on hips and legs apart, spoke volumes about his confidence on the machine's modifications and paint job. "Isn't it cool?"
"It looks angry" she said, walking around the thing now. She did several laps of the deck around it before returning to where she stood. "This is how you fight?"
"Yep! It's got. . . an electorlaser built into the shoulder, a secondary dedicated power system for the weapons (taken from a Mishu frame I pried open!), and a mancannon with an autoloader all built into the palm!"
He made a particular point to make out the hollow cavity in the left hand of the machine, pulling a plate off of the palm to reveal the inner workings.
"Huh..." she said in her usual affirmative drawl, thinking as she watched.
He pulled her over behind the LEAF to point at the external generator he mentioned, covered with a patchwork zesuanium plate as protection.
"...That looks heavy" she contemplated now, recognising the plate for it was instantly.
"It is. I had to restabilize it manually, and even then I had to add bonus weight to the body just to make the center of gravity. . . er. . . centered. Mostly in the feet. But that's okay, because most of that weight was modifications to the wheels and stuff. Yay locomotion!"
He said the last part with a half-hearted gusto.
"...Wheels?" she quizzed, her eyes down from the machine's very - what she thought - brave face to its feet, drawing her brows inwardly.
"How does it move sideward when the wheels only point forward?"
"Um. . . It doesn't. . . really. I mean, once it gets up to speed I. . . It works kind of like a car, you know? I just sort of angle it this way and that and then it turns. And, in a pinch, it can about-face."
"...So if someone gets up close, there's nothing you can do."
Seiren pointed at the gun-palm and the ports for the point-defense lasers.
"Lasers and bullets! That's plenty!"
Her tongue soon explored the inside of her cheek, cogs turning. Gaze lowering, she reached for her hand-cannon, flipping it to hold the barrel and offered Seiren the handle.
"Do you think you could hit me with this if I stood between your arms, behind of the mouth of the weapon?"
"Well, all I gotta do is pull it backwards, right?" He struggled with the weight of her weapon, but managed to hold it barely with both hands as a rifle.
"If you trip and fall, its over. If you can't move back quickly enough, its over. If you can't..." she soon heard her own redundancy, stopping there.
"Besides, as long as I'm in there, close range isn't a problem! It's a pile of metal that can exert. . . a whole lot of power on an enemy, even without the lasers and my mods!"
"You can only be hit so many times before that all stops" she extended her hand, carefully taking the weapon and setting her free hand, gloved, upon his head with a soft parental pat. "Do you know how to fight?"
"W-well, not like. . . professionally trained or anything. . . But I know how to shoot! And if I can hit an enemy once, then they're the ones who stop!" He pulled his hands up to his collarbone in fists, pouting heavily at the Sourcian.
She holstered the weapon, seemingly into her right thigh beneath the suit before pulling a metal zipper up and over it. Moving, she knelt infront of him, now level eye to eye.
"What's the best punch you know how to..." she held herself there, realising she was asking the wrong question. Remembering an experience with Sana, it then seemed clear.
"Have you ever tried fencing?"
Seiren thought for a moment, letting his fists roll out into thoughtful points.
"Huh, no actually. But there aren't many problems that a gun can't also solve, you know?"
"Let me show you one."
Made In Heaven - Armored Core 5
Within minutes, he was sat in the cockpit of his frame and pressed the big friendly "START" button. Four screens flickered on before him, just as Seiren reached up and flicked the switch to activate the secondary generator. The LEAF, being the simple machine it was, didn't have much it needed to activate to get started.
It was night now: Stood on re-enforced elasti-tarmac, bursting with plant-roots growing beneath it. The tarmac spread with weakly etched and spraypainted glow-pattern meant for freight-vehicles coming off the docks: an assortment of stacked worn tired containers off to one side with the sea in the other, glittering faintly beneath the docking lights. The air was thick with thick angry fog which hung above them, concealing any presence of clouds as rain poured, though the fog they had to themselves was quite thin, illuminated a bright maroon or pink by the tall illumination that lit the chainlinked fences. The Sargasso docks were in dire need of repair.
The ground would thud as Seiren's LEAF took its first step to its feet: across on the other side something more slender, painted in a dull grayish white with golden highlights: paint etched and worn with parts mishmashed from various units of its own line rose from a kneeling position to both feet: arms stretching and distending. It was an old model Winter 102, with its thick rolling shoulder-armour, curved V-like visor and wide hips: pronged forked bird-like feet retracting and combining back into conventional feet. Sparks flew as its fore-arm mounted weapons were purged explosively, smashing into the tarmac below, the thing's fists rising now: elbows down. Armor plate which usually sat over the wrist folded over the knuckle as the thing became fluid and limber, shoulders rolling as its knees rose and fell. Dripping with rain, it looked like a massive female banterweight boxer wrapped in cloth, a spartan track-dog of a machine. It gave an odd gesture: a nod, revealing its chin for a moment before tucking it back down, waiting for Seiren to make the first move.
Covers flipped off of the two point-defense laser lenses facing Rebeka. Seiren felt a little nervous about going weaponsfree like this, but he knew that Winters were at least somewhat sturdy. The electrolaser lanced out energy at the other machine.. The mancannon hand worked in tandem going off in some attempt to two-prong Rebeka's machine.
Warming up, the joints in the opposing frame began to glow first red, then white hot. The fog swept and moved: suddenly parted and then sweeping back into itself like waves of the sea: a brief thunderclap following as the tarmac beneath was torn thickly leaving trails where feet had momentarily been before. Gone. He could make out the glowing joints moving now, trailing like after-images on a cheap camera, the visor-plate glowing menacingly before another movement followed with the same sonic boom. It took Seiren a moment to realise but she was strafing in bursts that would probably crush a normal person, with each lateral flash of light the frame leaping like a flea half the length of the whole loading dock, advancing quickly. The question wasn't whether or not he could follow her with such a huge sensor signiature so much as would the joints on his own frame be smooth or swiftenough to acquire a solution and track without overshooting before she did it again forcing him to start over: Taking longer each time as she got closer and her maneuvering required greater travel of his joints.
"Sheeeeeiiit!"
Seiren let his arms do the aiming, for the most part. While the electrolaser was on some minor tracking software, he could override that if worse came to worse. The pistol was built intothe arm, so that wasn't so bad. But damn was she fast. He fired several times more, almost blindly, towards where he could place her. If he could place her.
The frame's pointed jagged white hands reached at its hip for the hilt of some ladeless bastard-sword with a wide and impressive cross-guard in each hand, pulling a reel shaped cable with it connected to the base to the frame. A short shallow glint at the base came to life of the crossguard, reminding Seiren of a plasma torch, forming an incredibly thin narrow blade like that of a fencing sword. Anticipating a hit, she put the thing between herself and the incoming round: the string thin blade widening like the iris of some feral feline beast into its full size: rain crackling violently against it like a massive hot glowing semi-clear two by four of light. The laser-shot was lensed through the plasma: Shooting clean over her shoulder and up into the air before she swung the blade out into its thinner form: another flash of thrust throwing her way up into the air, falling down ontop of him: the cowl spread out now, air lifting it up like some massive sail making it hard to placewhere she was in the low light.
"What even!"
Another confused statement, another few rounds that met no target. Two small beams flashed out from the chest of the pudgy mech and hopefully into the Winter's arms, if they could managed to hit at all. She was close enough that they'd probably contact, but not close enough that they'd kill.
The shot glanced across the frame as she came down: Sparks brilliant white as metal struck metal: Her knee assisted with thrust smashing into his cockpit, one hand gripping the neck of his frame while the other held the saber at a distance poised to strike: one of the two smaller set pinning his arm down, laser pressed into the tarmac.
Her cowl, dark brown cape burned slowly: Red hot metal glowing along the beefed up shoulders, across the face-plate and down over the hip of the machine where he'd struck her and cut through armor, leaving battle-scars. Had she hesitated in her movements, she would have been still long enough for the laser to not rake across the armor cut cut through it, burrowing hotly through one side and out the other to cut her down with ease on his part without energetc defense; instead her quick movements leaving only shallow cuts across much of the machine's right side.
The rain pitterpattered across Seiren's cockpit: his frame laid on its back now as the same face-plate stared down at him before it ceased glowing and the metal began to move: the lower half lowering in two parts and the upper plate rising to reveal a familiar face protected by a space-suit like dome helmet beneath.
Seiren sat there in his frame, jarred by the landing, but largely uninjured. This was going to be hell to repair.
<hanger>
Once more she was knelt before him where he sat on a cheap metal fold-out chair: Towel wrapped about his wet body: her knee having split the cockpit enough to let water in it would seem. She held a white hand-towel dabbed with something prickly to his lower lip, dabbing the split bruise where his head had bounced off the console when she hit.
"Why weren't you wearing the seat-belt?" her voice sounded, stern but concerned.
"'Cuz I forgot," he sheepishly mumbled.
"On Lor, I'm told looks come at a premium and leave you fleetingly every time you take a punch you don't have to. You're well off but you should still protect yourself" she sighed.
"I'm Yamataian. Unlike Luca, I don't put my body through paces it doesn't need to, so hemosynth does wonders for me," Seiren argued.
Her gaze settled on a sealed plastic clear pouch of something cold, fishing it out of the medicine bag and handing it to him.
"The swelling needs to come down. Will this do?"
"Yeah, good bit of ice always helps."
He pressed the pack to his head, sighing at the sensation.
"Your arms were quite slow... Does your frame have what you'd call an automatic balance or computer stabilization?"
"Yes,actually. It's the only way it stays proper, especially with all that extra weight I got."
"...It makes you slower," she began, holding the ice-pack for him now. "Its why you couldn't keep up with me. An exprienced pilot would have matched my movatched my movements or fired in my inertial path."
"Hey! The arms move free of the machine! Mostly!"
"Mostly," Rebeka echoed. "You couldn't hold the shot in the same place so you only made surface damage. The arms are too slow, even though I know you want to answer the question with a bigger gun."
". . . N-no I didn't!" he said, becoming flustered.
"Grace will help you, even if you make it heavier, you can still be faster" she said, glancing up at the frame, noting the rattled cockpit where she'd kicked the hatch.
"Where did you find zesuaium?"
"I er. . . pried it off of the same NMX frame I got the generator from. I almost managed to get some chainmail type stuff off of it too, but I might electrocuted myself trying to get it."
"Do you have anything else like this that you're still unsure what to do with?"
"What do you mean, anything else? Just random scrap and tat?"
"Mostly."
He kicked himself out of the chair, towel still equipped, and walked over to his workshop. Seiren rummaged through the scrap.
"Let'ssee. . . a half-deconstructed Ripshot I was gonna put onto my arm tracks. . . one of those cool Vial mutlitools, precious gems, that statuette of Hanako- wait, that's gone. Huh, Wonder where that went. . ."
"Gems?" she interjected, suddenly quite interested.
"Got it in a scrap raffle. Catch!" He said, tossing the pouch to her. They weren't priceless heirlooms, but they were certainly nice. He continued to blabber. "A vib- ah, passing that. . . hydrogen cell, a broken fusion generator - still gotta add that one to my machine, a BUNCH of scrap and refined metal in those crates. . ."
She soon fished one out: a fasceted red piece about the size of the end of her thumb. She dangled it above her head for a moment: eyes settling on him before stuffing it between her painted lips with a few others, chewing as quietly as she could before pulling the pouch shut.
He spied her closing the pouch.
"Were they what you were looking for?" He asked, before running down his list some more.
"No" she replied with a mouthful.
"Ooooh! I forgot I was going to turn this into a tool! Tiny shard of zesuanium!"
"...How big?"
He held up the shard. it matched the length of his middle finger.
"We could probably make you a knife out of that. Anything spare could be used for other parts... If you hollow it..." she said before swallowing "You could make all the pieces hollow and make one of those red knives that flips out with all the little tools on it."
"Oooh! I love those! That could come in handy!" He gleefully responded. And then, a thought struck him. "Wait, what am I doing rummaging through all this crap. I have a manifest I keep!"
Rebeka glanced down at the pouch, quietly pocketing it for later into the same place she put her hand-cannon inside her thigh. If he asked, she could always say she didn't have any pockets. It was technically true and wouldn't be lying.
He passed along a datapad he pulled from under the table to her, dusting off the surface with a nearby terry-cloth rag.
"Do you mind I pass this to the L'manel? She's good with machines."
"Wait let me make sure one entry isn't on there. . . I don't need her knowing about things, you know?" he said, taking the datapad back and double-checking for unscrupulous material.
In that moment Rebeka regretted her illiteracy, feeling left out of some great truth about the universe. In spite of this, her expression was quite plain.
"Alright, it's good. So, check it over and- waitaminute, right. You can't do the reading thing. . . Um. . . Wait, there's a simple text to speech program in this. Hold on, hold on. . . aaaaand on!"
He let the device run through the list for her, audibly.
"I don't know what any of those things mean" she said, elevating her voice to be heard over the device.
"What do you mean? Wait, no we're getting off track. What were we looking through my crap for again?" he said, passing the list off to Aiesu via e-mail with a 'Rebeka told me to' tacked onto the bottom.
The device was now repeating the word energy cells of varying classification, over and over again.
"How many do you have?"
"Er. . . I went through the crate and catalogued them all. Let's just call it 'a very, very large crate full,'" Seiren replied, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Most them power consumer items. What do you need so many for?" she took the list, starring down at it, hopingto get answers the same way the other did so often as it could tell her something. All she saw in her own vision was blank gray. It was then her arm lowered and she stared blankly forward, remembering yet again that she'd forgotten that she couldn't read: Only having a cursory understanding of what reading was from Sana. She didn't seem pleased.
"I got it in another scrap drawing! But most of that stuff can power all of my tools, or be used in my experiments for conduits and stuff. I'm working on a few weapon designs too, but. . . Just because they're consumer energy cells doesn't mean they can't power heavy stuff. In fact, quite a few of 'em are pretty long-lasting, if my cataloguing is right."
"Your catalogging had to be edited. Are there any other changes needed?"
"I mean, I edited it just so that miss company lady didn't see anything I didn't want her to. Buuuut there's some stuff I just got in that I only have listings for, but not actual details."
"What wouldn't you want her to see?"
"Er. . . How about this? I got an andrium bulkhead in from-
"Is it why you have so many batteries?"
"NO THEY'RE NOT THAT KIND OF BATTERIES MOSTLY!"
"This one you're doing now.. This is embarrassment, yes?"
"This what now? M-my face? Yes! THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I'M FEELING!"
"Yes. You feel shame for something."
"N-NOTHING WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT! S-so! How about that andrium bulkhead? Anything we can use that for? What were we even doing this for again?"
"I think Aiesu took your statue" Rebeka stated rather plainly.
"Wait, why? Why would she take a statue?" Seiren replied.
"Her psychological profile suggests she is enamored with Ketsuri Hanako."
"Weird. . . I'll have to ask her about it later."
"I'd be gentle. You've seen her smile."
Seiren nodded in agreement.
"Now, about this pile of junk. . . what exactly are we doing this for again? Improving my mech? Something else?"
"Something to that effect. I am experienced but I am not an engineer."
"I mean, I've already done just about everything I could for that mech without reducing it to complete uselessness. Can't have too many features, you know?" he said, shrugging. "Anyways, is the Winter always that fast?"
"Usually faster. Though an inexperienced pilot will struggle with the acceleration and be caught by surprise. I had the armor beefed up on mine in exchanged for some speed and had the PDCT tuned for burst maneuvering over high speed flight, ideal for combat but not for interception. The original is too specialised for my tastes in its stock configuration Its major weakness is its reliance on its engines: Its best defense simply to not be hit. "
"Well, I can understand that logic. . ." he sighed, glancing back at his LEAF. "The only thing I learned from that fight is that clearly I need better. . . everything. The least of which some kinda-"
"Not nessesarily."
"Huh?"
"A machine is as only as good as its configuration. You rely enormously on automation."
"I take the human variable out of the equation!"
"Sometimes a person can get there before the computer does. If you're good, much faster, in-fact. A good pilot knows when to use which, without being overwhelmed."
With that, she carefully stood properly, gaze exploring her own machine. Carefully, she made her way to the kneeling thing, hands tapping along a panel: fingers pulling a small recessed handle, twisting 180 degrees and pulling to pop the front cockpit hatch which opened with a hiss. She stood half way in the cockpit, flipping switches before the blade she'd used in the fight fell to the ground with a resounding clunk, followed then by the cabling and then the heating unit it had been linked to. Scratching the floor of the deck and making an awful sound, she dragged the heater with the projector over one shoulder and dumped them infront of Seiren. On her way over she picked up a rucksack, carrying it on the same shoulder.
"Add this to your inventory," she said.
"Er, thanks? Um, what exactly is it SUPPOSED to be? And isn't it something your mech needs?"
"CIWS plasma blade. My frame carries two: I can donate one without missing it. You need a close combat weapon on your frame. This is quite light for what its capable of and sufficiently robust for you to make the most out of it."
"Uh, thanks. I'll just. . . take note here," he muttered, pulling his datapad back up. "So wait, are you saying that I need to add the human element, now?"
"Yes,but you need to know when its smart to use it and smart to rely on the computer. Tell me, have you ever tried fencing?"
"Um, no. We've been over this."
She finally dumped the rucksack she'd been carrying, tossing it for Seiren to catch.
"I'll teach you. It'll give you all the basics you need to understand striking, deflection, feinting and footwork involved. While the skill doesn't translate directly, it gives you a solid foundation for close combat in a frame and you'll benefit from the lateral thinking in the long run."
"Oh, thanks!" He said, rummaging through the bag, only to find out something fabric in his grip. Seiren pulled it out, looking confusedly at it. "Uh. . . is this the child of a leotard and a bodysuit?"
"Ordinarily the suit is quite bulky to introduce weight and slow you down, so without the suit you become faster. I think more than anything, you'd benefit from the maneuverability of a light-suit"
"Isn't it a bit revealing?"
"Again, your small frame benefits more from flexibility, speed and dexterity, given you have a small body. Your best protection, like the Winter, is not to be hit. I will teach you how to be fast."
"I'm not wearing it. It's a bit much."
"But you said it was too little."
"M-metaphorically! Metaphorically too much!"
"I don't understand. Hurry up and put it on."
"W-whatever, point is, I don't wanna."
Rebeka thought for a moment, remembering something she'd heard Aiesu say to Luca once.
"I'm going to count to five. One."
"What?"
"Two."
"I'm not a kid!"
"Three."
"You have GOT to be kidding me."
"Four" -- she reached into her leg, pulling out her hand-cannon, making a particular show of cocking the weapon.
"Y-you don't scare me! Doing anything with that w-"
"Four" she barked, snapping the barrel level, shells loaded.
"It'd make Luca mad and you don't want him mad because then you'll fail at your job miss company rep!" he blabbered quickly.
"I don't represent the company. My job is to protect her and to protect you. She's smart enough to not get involved in a fight."
"But you're not protecting me by threatening me!"
"You run head-first into whatever fight you find. You have to know how to defend yourself: I won't always be there."
"But why do I need to wear something like THIS? It's a bit. . ."
"Because your frame will move with the same grace when the L'manel is done tweaking it." she sighed, eyeing the weapon and stowing it again. While it would probably have worked on Luca, Seiren lacked the experience to know better. What was another thing Aiesu used to get out of Luca?
"How about a carrot, rather than a stick? You're a hazard to the group with your current skill-set: You're too valuable not to protect and too inexperienced to defend yourself. For this, what would you want in return?"
"I'm not a hazard, but. . ."
"Your ability leaves much to be desired. Your motivation is good but you lack finesse and experience to make the best of it: I've been reviewing your combat logs. For your cooperation in ensuring your own survival, what would you like in return?"
"Anything?"
"Yes. Anything."
"Well. . ." he began.
<Later>
"You did quite well" she said, still holding her epee foil, still silent. She watched him doubled over: hands on his knees gasping for air panting like he'd just run a mile. That would have to change too, she thought.
Seiren didn't respond for a minute, thinking hard on the training while his body settled down.
"That thing you did," he stated once he could talk without drowning in air.
"Hm?"
"Where you moved the crate. How did you do that?"
"Centrifuge. Its a tool the consortium make. There's one built into the palm of my endoskeleton."
"Centrifuge... The Lazarus gravity thing in the magazines?"
"Correct."
Seiren flipped onto his back, moving one hand to his chin. "...Interesting. I wonder if I can get one out of Aiesu."
"Here" she said, the sound of unbuckling catching Seiren's ear.
"Wait, what?"
Something fell onto Seiren's stomach. It was surprisingly heavy: A flat disc about the size of a pocket-watch. It floated on its way down, rather than falling at full speed, making the sweat in his uniform rise up into the air in droplettes about itself.
"Its probably one of the strongest individual units I've got: They don't sell this model to the public."
"O-oh, thanks! I think. . . I think I might be able to do some cool things with this. But um. . . don't you need it?" He asked, picking up the device and turning it over.
"Negative: There's one built into each of the palms of my endo-skeleton, one in each of my feet, a stacked set in my calves and some others dotted elsewhere. About twenty in total of differing sizes and types. I'm not going to run out any time soon. I do suggest you go over it with the L'manel, though. She wrote the soft wares running these things."
"Alright. I will. . ."
He looked around nervously, from his floorward position.
"Say, you don't think she was watching, do you? She has this habit of knowing. . . THINGS, you know?"
"What sort of things?"
"Private things that she shouldn't know about me."
"Maybe she has eyes for someone other than Hanako. I think that's what Luca would say."
"That's weird. You're weird for saying i- hm. . . but now that you mention it, it is kinda suspicious that she picked me out of anybody to get my reading. . . OH GOD IS SHE A STALKER?"
"Reading?"
"Er. . . I got a construct reading a while back."
"...Doesn't that mean she'll have a construct of you somewhere?"
". . . I mean, I thought they'd be pulling me on for lab work or something. . . but if she has a kinky sex dungeon, there's no stopping what she'd do to another me!"
"Given your expertise, you'd be an ideal consultant and a good second opinion given your imagination. Anyone you work with on a regular basis you learn about."
"You're right, I'm probably just freaking out over nothing. . ."
"Maybe someone in the consortium enjoys your cooking."
"I mean I am a good cook, but. . ."
"Your... What did he say... His positivity is infectious. When everybody else is down, He's the first to try and cheer everybody up, you know. Cooking, dressup, toys, playing games. He's a bundle of creature comforts'. Luca says a lot of nice things about you. Are the two of you family?"
"No, we're just really close friends. But it's nice to know he says things like that about me, you know?"
"Given Aiesu's circumstances, I can understand why she'd want your company."
"I'm not going to ask what you mean like that. Don't wanna pry," Seiren sighed, finally getting up off the ground.
"Its actually quite noble."
"Noble?"
"I think so. You both suffer from similar conditions. You handle yours much better than she handles her's. You both have similar interests, whether she would admit it or not. You both have similar problems", Rebeka nodded.
"Huuh. . . Well, I'm not sure which ones those are, but I really don't wanna know."
"An advantage to not using my face..." she began with a very weak smile, one she didn't wear quite properly: "People sometimes forget you're in the room and say things they wouldn't want you to hear. They assume you're not listening or not interested. "
"Wow. Must be handy."
"My memory is admissable as legal evidence in a court of law: I retain everything I'm exposed to, even if I usually don't understand what any of it means. That's the other reason she keeps me around. If I'm asked, I know how to keep a secret, but you have to tell me first, alright?"
"Alright. . . Now, I think I'm ready for another round," Seiren said, picking up his foil again. The centrifuge sat on the sidelines for later.
Rebeka gave a clear nod, pulling down the mesh-mask that sat over Seiren's face and stepping back, entering position, ready to begin.
"Remember what I showed you."
Sixteen Tons - Tennessee Ernie Ford
"This is yours?"
"Yep!" Seiren proudly declared. His stance, hands on hips and legs apart, spoke volumes about his confidence on the machine's modifications and paint job. "Isn't it cool?"
"It looks angry" she said, walking around the thing now. She did several laps of the deck around it before returning to where she stood. "This is how you fight?"
"Yep! It's got. . . an electorlaser built into the shoulder, a secondary dedicated power system for the weapons (taken from a Mishu frame I pried open!), and a mancannon with an autoloader all built into the palm!"
He made a particular point to make out the hollow cavity in the left hand of the machine, pulling a plate off of the palm to reveal the inner workings.
"Huh..." she said in her usual affirmative drawl, thinking as she watched.
He pulled her over behind the LEAF to point at the external generator he mentioned, covered with a patchwork zesuanium plate as protection.
"...That looks heavy" she contemplated now, recognising the plate for it was instantly.
"It is. I had to restabilize it manually, and even then I had to add bonus weight to the body just to make the center of gravity. . . er. . . centered. Mostly in the feet. But that's okay, because most of that weight was modifications to the wheels and stuff. Yay locomotion!"
He said the last part with a half-hearted gusto.
"...Wheels?" she quizzed, her eyes down from the machine's very - what she thought - brave face to its feet, drawing her brows inwardly.
"How does it move sideward when the wheels only point forward?"
"Um. . . It doesn't. . . really. I mean, once it gets up to speed I. . . It works kind of like a car, you know? I just sort of angle it this way and that and then it turns. And, in a pinch, it can about-face."
"...So if someone gets up close, there's nothing you can do."
Seiren pointed at the gun-palm and the ports for the point-defense lasers.
"Lasers and bullets! That's plenty!"
Her tongue soon explored the inside of her cheek, cogs turning. Gaze lowering, she reached for her hand-cannon, flipping it to hold the barrel and offered Seiren the handle.
"Do you think you could hit me with this if I stood between your arms, behind of the mouth of the weapon?"
"Well, all I gotta do is pull it backwards, right?" He struggled with the weight of her weapon, but managed to hold it barely with both hands as a rifle.
"If you trip and fall, its over. If you can't move back quickly enough, its over. If you can't..." she soon heard her own redundancy, stopping there.
"Besides, as long as I'm in there, close range isn't a problem! It's a pile of metal that can exert. . . a whole lot of power on an enemy, even without the lasers and my mods!"
"You can only be hit so many times before that all stops" she extended her hand, carefully taking the weapon and setting her free hand, gloved, upon his head with a soft parental pat. "Do you know how to fight?"
"W-well, not like. . . professionally trained or anything. . . But I know how to shoot! And if I can hit an enemy once, then they're the ones who stop!" He pulled his hands up to his collarbone in fists, pouting heavily at the Sourcian.
She holstered the weapon, seemingly into her right thigh beneath the suit before pulling a metal zipper up and over it. Moving, she knelt infront of him, now level eye to eye.
"What's the best punch you know how to..." she held herself there, realising she was asking the wrong question. Remembering an experience with Sana, it then seemed clear.
"Have you ever tried fencing?"
Seiren thought for a moment, letting his fists roll out into thoughtful points.
"Huh, no actually. But there aren't many problems that a gun can't also solve, you know?"
"Let me show you one."
Made In Heaven - Armored Core 5
Within minutes, he was sat in the cockpit of his frame and pressed the big friendly "START" button. Four screens flickered on before him, just as Seiren reached up and flicked the switch to activate the secondary generator. The LEAF, being the simple machine it was, didn't have much it needed to activate to get started.
It was night now: Stood on re-enforced elasti-tarmac, bursting with plant-roots growing beneath it. The tarmac spread with weakly etched and spraypainted glow-pattern meant for freight-vehicles coming off the docks: an assortment of stacked worn tired containers off to one side with the sea in the other, glittering faintly beneath the docking lights. The air was thick with thick angry fog which hung above them, concealing any presence of clouds as rain poured, though the fog they had to themselves was quite thin, illuminated a bright maroon or pink by the tall illumination that lit the chainlinked fences. The Sargasso docks were in dire need of repair.
The ground would thud as Seiren's LEAF took its first step to its feet: across on the other side something more slender, painted in a dull grayish white with golden highlights: paint etched and worn with parts mishmashed from various units of its own line rose from a kneeling position to both feet: arms stretching and distending. It was an old model Winter 102, with its thick rolling shoulder-armour, curved V-like visor and wide hips: pronged forked bird-like feet retracting and combining back into conventional feet. Sparks flew as its fore-arm mounted weapons were purged explosively, smashing into the tarmac below, the thing's fists rising now: elbows down. Armor plate which usually sat over the wrist folded over the knuckle as the thing became fluid and limber, shoulders rolling as its knees rose and fell. Dripping with rain, it looked like a massive female banterweight boxer wrapped in cloth, a spartan track-dog of a machine. It gave an odd gesture: a nod, revealing its chin for a moment before tucking it back down, waiting for Seiren to make the first move.
Covers flipped off of the two point-defense laser lenses facing Rebeka. Seiren felt a little nervous about going weaponsfree like this, but he knew that Winters were at least somewhat sturdy. The electrolaser lanced out energy at the other machine.. The mancannon hand worked in tandem going off in some attempt to two-prong Rebeka's machine.
Warming up, the joints in the opposing frame began to glow first red, then white hot. The fog swept and moved: suddenly parted and then sweeping back into itself like waves of the sea: a brief thunderclap following as the tarmac beneath was torn thickly leaving trails where feet had momentarily been before. Gone. He could make out the glowing joints moving now, trailing like after-images on a cheap camera, the visor-plate glowing menacingly before another movement followed with the same sonic boom. It took Seiren a moment to realise but she was strafing in bursts that would probably crush a normal person, with each lateral flash of light the frame leaping like a flea half the length of the whole loading dock, advancing quickly. The question wasn't whether or not he could follow her with such a huge sensor signiature so much as would the joints on his own frame be smooth or swiftenough to acquire a solution and track without overshooting before she did it again forcing him to start over: Taking longer each time as she got closer and her maneuvering required greater travel of his joints.
"Sheeeeeiiit!"
Seiren let his arms do the aiming, for the most part. While the electrolaser was on some minor tracking software, he could override that if worse came to worse. The pistol was built intothe arm, so that wasn't so bad. But damn was she fast. He fired several times more, almost blindly, towards where he could place her. If he could place her.
The frame's pointed jagged white hands reached at its hip for the hilt of some ladeless bastard-sword with a wide and impressive cross-guard in each hand, pulling a reel shaped cable with it connected to the base to the frame. A short shallow glint at the base came to life of the crossguard, reminding Seiren of a plasma torch, forming an incredibly thin narrow blade like that of a fencing sword. Anticipating a hit, she put the thing between herself and the incoming round: the string thin blade widening like the iris of some feral feline beast into its full size: rain crackling violently against it like a massive hot glowing semi-clear two by four of light. The laser-shot was lensed through the plasma: Shooting clean over her shoulder and up into the air before she swung the blade out into its thinner form: another flash of thrust throwing her way up into the air, falling down ontop of him: the cowl spread out now, air lifting it up like some massive sail making it hard to placewhere she was in the low light.
"What even!"
Another confused statement, another few rounds that met no target. Two small beams flashed out from the chest of the pudgy mech and hopefully into the Winter's arms, if they could managed to hit at all. She was close enough that they'd probably contact, but not close enough that they'd kill.
The shot glanced across the frame as she came down: Sparks brilliant white as metal struck metal: Her knee assisted with thrust smashing into his cockpit, one hand gripping the neck of his frame while the other held the saber at a distance poised to strike: one of the two smaller set pinning his arm down, laser pressed into the tarmac.
Her cowl, dark brown cape burned slowly: Red hot metal glowing along the beefed up shoulders, across the face-plate and down over the hip of the machine where he'd struck her and cut through armor, leaving battle-scars. Had she hesitated in her movements, she would have been still long enough for the laser to not rake across the armor cut cut through it, burrowing hotly through one side and out the other to cut her down with ease on his part without energetc defense; instead her quick movements leaving only shallow cuts across much of the machine's right side.
The rain pitterpattered across Seiren's cockpit: his frame laid on its back now as the same face-plate stared down at him before it ceased glowing and the metal began to move: the lower half lowering in two parts and the upper plate rising to reveal a familiar face protected by a space-suit like dome helmet beneath.
Seiren sat there in his frame, jarred by the landing, but largely uninjured. This was going to be hell to repair.
<hanger>
Once more she was knelt before him where he sat on a cheap metal fold-out chair: Towel wrapped about his wet body: her knee having split the cockpit enough to let water in it would seem. She held a white hand-towel dabbed with something prickly to his lower lip, dabbing the split bruise where his head had bounced off the console when she hit.
"Why weren't you wearing the seat-belt?" her voice sounded, stern but concerned.
"'Cuz I forgot," he sheepishly mumbled.
"On Lor, I'm told looks come at a premium and leave you fleetingly every time you take a punch you don't have to. You're well off but you should still protect yourself" she sighed.
"I'm Yamataian. Unlike Luca, I don't put my body through paces it doesn't need to, so hemosynth does wonders for me," Seiren argued.
Her gaze settled on a sealed plastic clear pouch of something cold, fishing it out of the medicine bag and handing it to him.
"The swelling needs to come down. Will this do?"
"Yeah, good bit of ice always helps."
He pressed the pack to his head, sighing at the sensation.
"Your arms were quite slow... Does your frame have what you'd call an automatic balance or computer stabilization?"
"Yes,actually. It's the only way it stays proper, especially with all that extra weight I got."
"...It makes you slower," she began, holding the ice-pack for him now. "Its why you couldn't keep up with me. An exprienced pilot would have matched my movatched my movements or fired in my inertial path."
"Hey! The arms move free of the machine! Mostly!"
"Mostly," Rebeka echoed. "You couldn't hold the shot in the same place so you only made surface damage. The arms are too slow, even though I know you want to answer the question with a bigger gun."
". . . N-no I didn't!" he said, becoming flustered.
"Grace will help you, even if you make it heavier, you can still be faster" she said, glancing up at the frame, noting the rattled cockpit where she'd kicked the hatch.
"Where did you find zesuaium?"
"I er. . . pried it off of the same NMX frame I got the generator from. I almost managed to get some chainmail type stuff off of it too, but I might electrocuted myself trying to get it."
"Do you have anything else like this that you're still unsure what to do with?"
"What do you mean, anything else? Just random scrap and tat?"
"Mostly."
He kicked himself out of the chair, towel still equipped, and walked over to his workshop. Seiren rummaged through the scrap.
"Let'ssee. . . a half-deconstructed Ripshot I was gonna put onto my arm tracks. . . one of those cool Vial mutlitools, precious gems, that statuette of Hanako- wait, that's gone. Huh, Wonder where that went. . ."
"Gems?" she interjected, suddenly quite interested.
"Got it in a scrap raffle. Catch!" He said, tossing the pouch to her. They weren't priceless heirlooms, but they were certainly nice. He continued to blabber. "A vib- ah, passing that. . . hydrogen cell, a broken fusion generator - still gotta add that one to my machine, a BUNCH of scrap and refined metal in those crates. . ."
She soon fished one out: a fasceted red piece about the size of the end of her thumb. She dangled it above her head for a moment: eyes settling on him before stuffing it between her painted lips with a few others, chewing as quietly as she could before pulling the pouch shut.
He spied her closing the pouch.
"Were they what you were looking for?" He asked, before running down his list some more.
"No" she replied with a mouthful.
"Ooooh! I forgot I was going to turn this into a tool! Tiny shard of zesuanium!"
"...How big?"
He held up the shard. it matched the length of his middle finger.
"We could probably make you a knife out of that. Anything spare could be used for other parts... If you hollow it..." she said before swallowing "You could make all the pieces hollow and make one of those red knives that flips out with all the little tools on it."
"Oooh! I love those! That could come in handy!" He gleefully responded. And then, a thought struck him. "Wait, what am I doing rummaging through all this crap. I have a manifest I keep!"
Rebeka glanced down at the pouch, quietly pocketing it for later into the same place she put her hand-cannon inside her thigh. If he asked, she could always say she didn't have any pockets. It was technically true and wouldn't be lying.
He passed along a datapad he pulled from under the table to her, dusting off the surface with a nearby terry-cloth rag.
"Do you mind I pass this to the L'manel? She's good with machines."
"Wait let me make sure one entry isn't on there. . . I don't need her knowing about things, you know?" he said, taking the datapad back and double-checking for unscrupulous material.
In that moment Rebeka regretted her illiteracy, feeling left out of some great truth about the universe. In spite of this, her expression was quite plain.
"Alright, it's good. So, check it over and- waitaminute, right. You can't do the reading thing. . . Um. . . Wait, there's a simple text to speech program in this. Hold on, hold on. . . aaaaand on!"
He let the device run through the list for her, audibly.
"I don't know what any of those things mean" she said, elevating her voice to be heard over the device.
"What do you mean? Wait, no we're getting off track. What were we looking through my crap for again?" he said, passing the list off to Aiesu via e-mail with a 'Rebeka told me to' tacked onto the bottom.
The device was now repeating the word energy cells of varying classification, over and over again.
"How many do you have?"
"Er. . . I went through the crate and catalogued them all. Let's just call it 'a very, very large crate full,'" Seiren replied, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Most them power consumer items. What do you need so many for?" she took the list, starring down at it, hopingto get answers the same way the other did so often as it could tell her something. All she saw in her own vision was blank gray. It was then her arm lowered and she stared blankly forward, remembering yet again that she'd forgotten that she couldn't read: Only having a cursory understanding of what reading was from Sana. She didn't seem pleased.
"I got it in another scrap drawing! But most of that stuff can power all of my tools, or be used in my experiments for conduits and stuff. I'm working on a few weapon designs too, but. . . Just because they're consumer energy cells doesn't mean they can't power heavy stuff. In fact, quite a few of 'em are pretty long-lasting, if my cataloguing is right."
"Your catalogging had to be edited. Are there any other changes needed?"
"I mean, I edited it just so that miss company lady didn't see anything I didn't want her to. Buuuut there's some stuff I just got in that I only have listings for, but not actual details."
"What wouldn't you want her to see?"
"Er. . . How about this? I got an andrium bulkhead in from-
"Is it why you have so many batteries?"
"NO THEY'RE NOT THAT KIND OF BATTERIES MOSTLY!"
"This one you're doing now.. This is embarrassment, yes?"
"This what now? M-my face? Yes! THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I'M FEELING!"
"Yes. You feel shame for something."
"N-NOTHING WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT! S-so! How about that andrium bulkhead? Anything we can use that for? What were we even doing this for again?"
"I think Aiesu took your statue" Rebeka stated rather plainly.
"Wait, why? Why would she take a statue?" Seiren replied.
"Her psychological profile suggests she is enamored with Ketsuri Hanako."
"Weird. . . I'll have to ask her about it later."
"I'd be gentle. You've seen her smile."
Seiren nodded in agreement.
"Now, about this pile of junk. . . what exactly are we doing this for again? Improving my mech? Something else?"
"Something to that effect. I am experienced but I am not an engineer."
"I mean, I've already done just about everything I could for that mech without reducing it to complete uselessness. Can't have too many features, you know?" he said, shrugging. "Anyways, is the Winter always that fast?"
"Usually faster. Though an inexperienced pilot will struggle with the acceleration and be caught by surprise. I had the armor beefed up on mine in exchanged for some speed and had the PDCT tuned for burst maneuvering over high speed flight, ideal for combat but not for interception. The original is too specialised for my tastes in its stock configuration Its major weakness is its reliance on its engines: Its best defense simply to not be hit. "
"Well, I can understand that logic. . ." he sighed, glancing back at his LEAF. "The only thing I learned from that fight is that clearly I need better. . . everything. The least of which some kinda-"
"Not nessesarily."
"Huh?"
"A machine is as only as good as its configuration. You rely enormously on automation."
"I take the human variable out of the equation!"
"Sometimes a person can get there before the computer does. If you're good, much faster, in-fact. A good pilot knows when to use which, without being overwhelmed."
With that, she carefully stood properly, gaze exploring her own machine. Carefully, she made her way to the kneeling thing, hands tapping along a panel: fingers pulling a small recessed handle, twisting 180 degrees and pulling to pop the front cockpit hatch which opened with a hiss. She stood half way in the cockpit, flipping switches before the blade she'd used in the fight fell to the ground with a resounding clunk, followed then by the cabling and then the heating unit it had been linked to. Scratching the floor of the deck and making an awful sound, she dragged the heater with the projector over one shoulder and dumped them infront of Seiren. On her way over she picked up a rucksack, carrying it on the same shoulder.
"Add this to your inventory," she said.
"Er, thanks? Um, what exactly is it SUPPOSED to be? And isn't it something your mech needs?"
"CIWS plasma blade. My frame carries two: I can donate one without missing it. You need a close combat weapon on your frame. This is quite light for what its capable of and sufficiently robust for you to make the most out of it."
"Uh, thanks. I'll just. . . take note here," he muttered, pulling his datapad back up. "So wait, are you saying that I need to add the human element, now?"
"Yes,but you need to know when its smart to use it and smart to rely on the computer. Tell me, have you ever tried fencing?"
"Um, no. We've been over this."
She finally dumped the rucksack she'd been carrying, tossing it for Seiren to catch.
"I'll teach you. It'll give you all the basics you need to understand striking, deflection, feinting and footwork involved. While the skill doesn't translate directly, it gives you a solid foundation for close combat in a frame and you'll benefit from the lateral thinking in the long run."
"Oh, thanks!" He said, rummaging through the bag, only to find out something fabric in his grip. Seiren pulled it out, looking confusedly at it. "Uh. . . is this the child of a leotard and a bodysuit?"
"Ordinarily the suit is quite bulky to introduce weight and slow you down, so without the suit you become faster. I think more than anything, you'd benefit from the maneuverability of a light-suit"
"Isn't it a bit revealing?"
"Again, your small frame benefits more from flexibility, speed and dexterity, given you have a small body. Your best protection, like the Winter, is not to be hit. I will teach you how to be fast."
"I'm not wearing it. It's a bit much."
"But you said it was too little."
"M-metaphorically! Metaphorically too much!"
"I don't understand. Hurry up and put it on."
"W-whatever, point is, I don't wanna."
Rebeka thought for a moment, remembering something she'd heard Aiesu say to Luca once.
"I'm going to count to five. One."
"What?"
"Two."
"I'm not a kid!"
"Three."
"You have GOT to be kidding me."
"Four" -- she reached into her leg, pulling out her hand-cannon, making a particular show of cocking the weapon.
"Y-you don't scare me! Doing anything with that w-"
"Four" she barked, snapping the barrel level, shells loaded.
"It'd make Luca mad and you don't want him mad because then you'll fail at your job miss company rep!" he blabbered quickly.
"I don't represent the company. My job is to protect her and to protect you. She's smart enough to not get involved in a fight."
"But you're not protecting me by threatening me!"
"You run head-first into whatever fight you find. You have to know how to defend yourself: I won't always be there."
"But why do I need to wear something like THIS? It's a bit. . ."
"Because your frame will move with the same grace when the L'manel is done tweaking it." she sighed, eyeing the weapon and stowing it again. While it would probably have worked on Luca, Seiren lacked the experience to know better. What was another thing Aiesu used to get out of Luca?
"How about a carrot, rather than a stick? You're a hazard to the group with your current skill-set: You're too valuable not to protect and too inexperienced to defend yourself. For this, what would you want in return?"
"I'm not a hazard, but. . ."
"Your ability leaves much to be desired. Your motivation is good but you lack finesse and experience to make the best of it: I've been reviewing your combat logs. For your cooperation in ensuring your own survival, what would you like in return?"
"Anything?"
"Yes. Anything."
"Well. . ." he began.
<Later>
"You did quite well" she said, still holding her epee foil, still silent. She watched him doubled over: hands on his knees gasping for air panting like he'd just run a mile. That would have to change too, she thought.
Seiren didn't respond for a minute, thinking hard on the training while his body settled down.
"That thing you did," he stated once he could talk without drowning in air.
"Hm?"
"Where you moved the crate. How did you do that?"
"Centrifuge. Its a tool the consortium make. There's one built into the palm of my endoskeleton."
"Centrifuge... The Lazarus gravity thing in the magazines?"
"Correct."
Seiren flipped onto his back, moving one hand to his chin. "...Interesting. I wonder if I can get one out of Aiesu."
"Here" she said, the sound of unbuckling catching Seiren's ear.
"Wait, what?"
Something fell onto Seiren's stomach. It was surprisingly heavy: A flat disc about the size of a pocket-watch. It floated on its way down, rather than falling at full speed, making the sweat in his uniform rise up into the air in droplettes about itself.
"Its probably one of the strongest individual units I've got: They don't sell this model to the public."
"O-oh, thanks! I think. . . I think I might be able to do some cool things with this. But um. . . don't you need it?" He asked, picking up the device and turning it over.
"Negative: There's one built into each of the palms of my endo-skeleton, one in each of my feet, a stacked set in my calves and some others dotted elsewhere. About twenty in total of differing sizes and types. I'm not going to run out any time soon. I do suggest you go over it with the L'manel, though. She wrote the soft wares running these things."
"Alright. I will. . ."
He looked around nervously, from his floorward position.
"Say, you don't think she was watching, do you? She has this habit of knowing. . . THINGS, you know?"
"What sort of things?"
"Private things that she shouldn't know about me."
"Maybe she has eyes for someone other than Hanako. I think that's what Luca would say."
"That's weird. You're weird for saying i- hm. . . but now that you mention it, it is kinda suspicious that she picked me out of anybody to get my reading. . . OH GOD IS SHE A STALKER?"
"Reading?"
"Er. . . I got a construct reading a while back."
"...Doesn't that mean she'll have a construct of you somewhere?"
". . . I mean, I thought they'd be pulling me on for lab work or something. . . but if she has a kinky sex dungeon, there's no stopping what she'd do to another me!"
"Given your expertise, you'd be an ideal consultant and a good second opinion given your imagination. Anyone you work with on a regular basis you learn about."
"You're right, I'm probably just freaking out over nothing. . ."
"Maybe someone in the consortium enjoys your cooking."
"I mean I am a good cook, but. . ."
"Your... What did he say... His positivity is infectious. When everybody else is down, He's the first to try and cheer everybody up, you know. Cooking, dressup, toys, playing games. He's a bundle of creature comforts'. Luca says a lot of nice things about you. Are the two of you family?"
"No, we're just really close friends. But it's nice to know he says things like that about me, you know?"
"Given Aiesu's circumstances, I can understand why she'd want your company."
"I'm not going to ask what you mean like that. Don't wanna pry," Seiren sighed, finally getting up off the ground.
"Its actually quite noble."
"Noble?"
"I think so. You both suffer from similar conditions. You handle yours much better than she handles her's. You both have similar interests, whether she would admit it or not. You both have similar problems", Rebeka nodded.
"Huuh. . . Well, I'm not sure which ones those are, but I really don't wanna know."
"An advantage to not using my face..." she began with a very weak smile, one she didn't wear quite properly: "People sometimes forget you're in the room and say things they wouldn't want you to hear. They assume you're not listening or not interested. "
"Wow. Must be handy."
"My memory is admissable as legal evidence in a court of law: I retain everything I'm exposed to, even if I usually don't understand what any of it means. That's the other reason she keeps me around. If I'm asked, I know how to keep a secret, but you have to tell me first, alright?"
"Alright. . . Now, I think I'm ready for another round," Seiren said, picking up his foil again. The centrifuge sat on the sidelines for later.
Rebeka gave a clear nod, pulling down the mesh-mask that sat over Seiren's face and stepping back, entering position, ready to begin.
"Remember what I showed you."
Sixteen Tons - Tennessee Ernie Ford
