Nova rested his arms over his chest and waited. He hated waiting.
If the situation called for it, he could be patient. Waiting, on the other hand, had never been his game, and it felt all the more agonising in situations where he wanted to escape his thoughts. Overthinking killed many things; creativity, momentum, soldiers.
Today had too much at stake for him.
The simulator cockpit was identical to the real deal, and it was able to mimic the movements and controls of the mechas with an almost full accuracy. It had been four hours, and he had just sent off another co-pilot candidate.
So far everyone and everything had been a massive disappointment.
Waiting was the worst, because it gave him time to think about arriving at the hospital with Liam, and about the helplessness of not being able to do anything else than wait. He left the medical ward only briefly to give a report of what had happened; he had not been able to look at Nicky.
As soon as the report was done, he returned to the medical ward. His ears were still ringing with the sound of Liam’s screams.
Nova had no memory of the chopper ride to get there, aside from staring blankly at Liam’s pale face, half covered by the oxygen mask that had been placed as soon as they got him free from the straps and wires and bent metal.
They hadn’t let Nova help. They had rushed him to the chopper for a quick checkup. Liam had been brought in soon after him, and the lifeless expression on his face had made Nova’s stomach drop.
As he had waited in the hallway leading to the medical ward, the sight of Liam was all Nova could think of. He waited to see the burning red light go out at the door of the operating room. He strained his hearing in case there would be a long and high beeping sound to signal that Liam would-
No, he told himself. Not Liam. Liam was too stubborn to go like this. Just because of a malfunction in their cannon? No way.
Anger flared inside him and he tried to latch onto it. Fuck Nicky. Fuck that analyst. Fuck that anomaly. He tried to let it distract him from the hollow dread, but after the initial flare it faded into something tasting like bitter guilt.
He let it go and started pacing instead. Six steps, turn. Six steps, turn. The coffee stain on the floor started looking more and more like blood each time Nova passed it.
Six steps, turn. Six steps, turn. Four steps-
Someone had stepped in front of him and Nova stopped. He lifted his eyes up to the white coat and personnel name tag attached to his chest that read Anders Brask. Anders was one of those faces Nova had seen around before, but his general appearance did not speak of remarkable nor memorable things. His behaviour was in line with the looks: nothing but a polite, mild smile and an unintimidating demeanour.
“Nova Creed, right?” His voice was calm and steady in a way that made Nova draw a deep breath upon realising he was holding air in his lungs. Dread started to unfurl in his chest, and it took over what little energy Nova had contemplated on expending being offended.
Like there was anyone in the base who wouldn’t recognize him.
Good or bad news?
He wanted to ask, but the words caught up in his throat. Anders’s eyes revealed nothing as he looked down at the data tablet in his hands, clicking it open with a calm, unhurried gesture that made Nova want to shake him from the shoulders.
“We managed to stabilise your brother. There were some severe injuries, but fortunately no internal organs were badly damaged,” Anders listed steadily, and with each word Nova felt his shoulders relaxing. Liam was okay, would be okay, and they would go back to piloting Tiger in no time.
Then Anders glanced up from the tablet and gave Nova a hesitant glance that made all the fears return.
“Do you want to sit down for a bit?” Anders gestured over to the chairs by the hallway wall. Nova frowned. His chest suddenly felt constricting, as if it was forming a tight cage around his lungs.
Why do you want me to sit down? You just said he’s fine.
Nova shook his head. Anders hesitated for another moment, before looking back at the tablet.
“His back took most of the hit from the impact,” Anders continued and Nova nodded. He remembered the white hot pain exploding from his back, running down his spine. Not his own pain - Liam’s - but it was all the same, because they piloted together. Nova and Liam, Flashy and Boomy. The two most talented pilots the base had ever seen.
Bad things don’t happen to people like that.
“His spine is broken here,” Anders tilted the pad to show Nova an image of a spine.
A very broken spine.
Nova’s throat felt tight.
“And fractured here and here,” Anders pointed at two very visible fractures, before tucking the tablet under the arm. “Now, we think the fractures should heal nicely and with any hope. We can mend the break so it won’t cause constant pain.”
Nova thought back to the pain that had felt almost blinding and shuddered. He tried to focus on Anders’s words and what they meant, but his mind kept escaping: to Anders’s well-cared nails, to the humming of the lamps above their heads, to the cracks of the tiles on the floor.
“However, given the location and severity of it we think it is very unlikely he will ever regain the full function of his lower body. If he gains any at all.” Anders’s voice was still very calm, and Nova’s brain refused to understand the situation.
“What?” This didn’t feel real. He wanted to hear it again, so that Anders could confirm that Nova had misunderstood. Anders tapped the screen of the tablet dark under his arm. Then he fixed his eyes back on Nova, expression empathetic.
To Nova it looked startlingly close to pity.
“We don’t think he’s going to walk again. Much less will he ever be able to pilot Tiger.” Nova felt the haze of disbelief and shock fading away, first slowly and then uncomfortably fast. He closed his eyes to clear his thoughts.
This wasn’t happening.
“You’re wrong,” he finally said and looked up at Anders sternly. Anders didn’t look away - one point in his favour. Most people in the base had at least shifted under Nova’s stare.
“Injuries to the spine similar to his have no record of healing beyond-”
“Yeah, well, maybe for everyone else,” Nova cut Anders off with a sharp hand movement of his hand accompanying the words. “Liam is different. Maybe you are really dense enough not to know who he is, but he’s one of the two best pilots in this base. He’s way too stubborn to let something like this come between him and piloting. He’s gotten through worse.” Despite the short laughter, his chest felt heavy.
“Worse than a broken spine?” Anders asked with transparent disbelief. The way he raised his eyebrows slightly made Nova grit his teeth together. This time Anders looked briefly again, and Nova latched onto the moment of weakness.
“Doesn’t matter. You don’t know him. A malfunction? As if that’s what’s going to take him out of commission.” Nova laughed again, but this time there was a tremble in his voice he didn’t want there. He ran his hand through his hair and told himself it wasn’t a distressed gesture.
“Regardless,” Anders continued, shifting in a way that implied he wasn’t done talking. “The report hasn’t made it through to the marshal yet, but as soon as it does, it’s more than likely that your brother will be decommissioned.” For a moment, Nova could only stare at Anders.
“No,” he said as soon as his mind recovered. “No way. He’d never allow that to happen. He will get better.” His eyes drifted to the tablet, and for a moment he considered ordering Anders to take it out - wouldn’t all their medical records be in there, from since they were born? They would have to be, thanks to their father and their rigorous upbringing within the folds of the military.
If Anders would pull out those records, he would surely see that anything they had ever encountered, they had conquered: broken bones, fractures, wounds, bleeding, exertion, breakdowns. He would see that both of them were paradigms of health and well-being, well bred and raised heroes.
“He will get better,” Nova repeated, now with a heated tone that challenged Anders to argue with him about it again. Anders didn’t respond. He simply observed Nova silently until Nova bit his tongue and pressed his lips tightly together.
He wanted to see the doctor who had been treating Liam and ask for another opinion. He wanted to see Anders’s licence. He wanted to see Nicky withdrawn from operator duty. He wanted to order himself more drills and exercises so that he would never make another lapse in judgement again that would end up misfiring a cannon at his co-pilot.
Nicky had given them the permission to engage. Why hadn’t anyone stopped him?
Nova’s thoughts drifted back to the heated voice of the analyst in the background of their comms channel. One fucking glance at the board. He wondered who it had been. If the analyst had been their operator, Liam wouldn’t be in the surgery room, and Nova wouldn’t be here arguing with an incompetent medic who had no idea who Liam was.
If only Liam hadn’t trusted Nicky’s judgement. Hadn’t they joked about it before? How Nicky was a good operator with a kind heart, but how his input sometimes was late, or with delay? They had learned to work around it, to trust their own judgement over Nicky’s in critical situations. They had trusted that if anything would really go sideways, Nicky would know the basic protocols.
Nova’s thoughts were a coiled wire that kept going around and around, avoiding the one thought glowing in the middle of it all.
If only I hadn’t fired the cannon.
“He is going to be heavily sedated for the next few days, and chances are he’s going to be disoriented and exhausted even if he does drift back to consciousness,” Anders started speaking again. His level voice was starting to annoy the hell out of Nova.
“Sorry, but why are you still talking?” Nova allowed mocking to creep into his voice as he straightened his back and stepped right in front of Anders. Anders’s gaze briefly flickered to the side, but he struggled to keep eye contact.
“I told you that he will get better,” Nova insisted. “It’s not going to matter if it takes a few days or a few weeks, he’s getting back on his feet.” Anders didn’t respond immediately, but Nova finally saw a reaction lighting up in the metal green eyes.
“I am telling you this, because we wanted to offer you the chance to tell him the news yourself, as his closest relative,” he stated, now with the slightest hint of coldness in his voice. “Whether you choose to take that offer is up to you, but my guess is that someone will be there to fill him in by the end of this week. So you have a couple of days to think it over.”
From Anders’s expression it was obvious that he realised Nova had stopped listening after the first phrase. He let out a small sigh, before glancing down the hall.
“They should have taken him to a private room by now. You are allowed to visit him, but it’s unlikely he will reach consciousness tonight,” he said and handed Nova a small white card, “I am currently the person in charge of his treatment, so if you need anything, feel free to call or message me.” Nova accepted the card and nodded slowly. The contrast of the black letters against the white background seared against his eyes before he forced himself to look back up.
“Thank you,” he said, even when he didn’t feel entirely like he meant it. Anders nodded briefly, looking like he didn’t really care whether Nova meant it or not.
Nova blinked, and he was back in the present moment, at the simulation cockpit, at the eerie blue light from the screens, at the silence and endless waiting. Soon, another pilot candidate would enter the cockpit so that they could test the compatibility.
Their father had raised them to never forget their position. Nova and Liam were beacons of hope to people; it was a heavy burden, but one Nova carried with pride. He could not accept just anyone to replace Liam. He needed someone who could do their part, someone who understood what they were getting into.
And everyone he had met so far had been so flawed. Only few of them had managed to form an acceptable connection with him, their thoughts and wishes washing over Nova like waves; romantic or sexual nonsense, admiration, idol worship.
Normally Nova was flattered by it, but today it caused him to coldly terminate the simulation. Piloting came first to him, and his partner needed to know their place.
A distant, silent part of Nova's mind acknowledged the possibility that he was subconsciously rejecting all candidates because he didn't want to let go of the chance of piloting with Liam again, impossible as it was.
But reluctance alone didn't change or explain away the fact that out of twenty potential candidates, four had failed to establish a connection with him, several had no combat experience, and more than one had gotten a frustrated earful from Nova after getting distracted mid-simulation. The last one had left with a very decisive huff and brisk steps, and Nova doubted she would come back even if the test results would turn out good.
The dim light of the visors and monitoring systems painted mechanical shadows to the floor and to the wall.
“– orders to be decommissioned, effective immediately. The status of his co-pilot, Nova Creed, is yet to be decided, but it is likely he will be placed on a temporary decommission.”
The words from the hospital weighed heavily in his mind. Whoever it was who had brought in the message probably had not intended for Nova to overhear, but no-one had paid particular attention to the open door at Liam’s room. After all, there was nobody there but Liam, unconscious.
And Nova, sitting next to his bed.
“Liam I can understand, but why his brother? He is one of the best pilots in the base - shouldn’t they just find a replacement for him?” This voice Nova had recognised as Anders’s. A small, complacent feeling made its way to his mind.
So he does know who I am.
“Yes, well.” The first speaker sneered. “It’s unlikely they will find a replacement that would put up with him for longer than a few days. Nova has a reckless personality, and truthfully? Most people think that he’s more than a bit of an asshole. Full of himself.”
Not that they were wrong. Nova had a reckless personality, he was more than capable of being an asshole, and he had a reason to be full of himself. He and Liam both.
“I can’t say I know him well enough to have an opinion,” Anders had replied calmly. “What I do know is that for the whole duration of this crisis, we have lost pilots faster than we’ve been able to acquire them - it goes against all sense to throw away a pilot with excellent skills and high survival rate just because someone doesn’t like them. I think it would be better to get him another co-pilot.”
Going through all of this felt useless. With Liam, everything had always been natural and easy.
The cockpit opened from the opposite side and Nova adjusted a polite smile to his face, ready to face whatever dogmeat they were going to pair him with this time.
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