On any given day, Kieran wanted to avoid Lonan.
On any given day, Lonan made it difficult.
Kieran was sitting by the window at the canteen, resting his arms at the table and forking up the remains of his lunch. Lonan was sitting next to him, stretching his fingers on the table and grinning smugly. This had been going on in silence for five minutes, and every cell in Lonan’s body seemed to scream aren’t you going to ask?
“Well?” Kieran finally relented with a sigh.
“Check this out,” Lonan said, satisfied, and extended his hand towards Kieran. With a flick of a finger, Kieran saw a small hologram appear on Lonan’s palm. Lonan trailed his finger over the image and duplicated it, pulling up something that looked like a tablet screen.
“I asked them to connect my hands to the database of this place. No more running around after this file or that analyst.” Kieran arched his brow and watched in fascination as Lonan went through the information analysts and mechanics had access to, as well as some general information that was readily available on the public servers but nobody ever looked up to.
“And they just let you do that? How about security?” Lonan’s grin widened at the question.
“It was either that, or make the whole base accessible via a wheelchair,” he stated and winked at Kieran. “Giving me access to the database apparently seemed like an easier option for them.”
Kieran huffed a short laugh, and Lonan turned to him with a satisfied smile as he closed the hologram.
“So, this means that I’m efficiently the fastest analyst in acquiring the information,” he stated, and his expression became more solemn. “Perhaps you could make use of that every now and then.” Kieran’s smile faded as well and he turned to look out of the window.
“Yeah, but Caspian is a better analyst,” he stated. Hurt flashed across Lonan’s expression.
“This isn’t about who’s a better analyst. Caspian just isn’t reminding you about things you don’t want to think about,” Lonan replied coldly and folded his arms across his chest. “I’m over it, Kieran. I’m good at what I do, you know I am. If you would just--”
“Fine, fine,” Kieran exhaled and waved his hand dismissively. “I get it. I’ll call on you next time I have something extra I need another pair of eyes on.” Lonan nodded slowly. The resigned expression on his face told Kieran that neither of them believed him.
In the tense silence, the blaring alarms were almost welcome.
"All pilots to hangar. All operators to the command centre," Gauthier’s voice echoed through the speaker system. Kieran terminated the simulation and opened the pod. Zoya and Ildar hopped out as soon as the door opened, as if they had been expecting an attack.
"Zoya, Ildar, change to your piloting gear and head to the hangar," Kieran announced - slightly needlessly, because the two started running towards the hangar as soon as their feet hit the ground.
"We know," Ildar shouted over his shoulder, "tell the mechanics to let Interceptor loose, if it's not done we'll finish up ourselves." Kieran pressed the microphone that would bring his voice to the other side of the glass screen, but didn't know what he could say.
Under normal circumstances, the average lifespan of a pilot was four months. Once Kieran had seen Interceptor, he had never even dreamt that Ildar and Zoya would be making it to that mark.
Thankfully, circumstances weren't normal. For one reason or another, there had only been one new rift after the siblings had made it to the base, and that had gone about as well as it could go in a perfect world. It had given Kieran plenty of time to run simulations with Interceptor and its pilots. Plenty of time to hammer in their heads why chain of command mattered.
The results varied.
He dropped by the hangar instead, running the whole way there to let Interceptor's mechanics know that they should hurry up if they wanted to do their job.
"A new rift has opened," Marshal announced as soon as Kieran entered the room, seemingly the last person present. He saw Nicky standing at the back of the wall, and some people he did not see often around here - the base secretary, for one, wearing a pilot suit and a somber expression.
It was all the sign Kieran needed that the situation was dire.
"This time it's less than ten kilometres from the base," Marshal continued, opening up the map to the screen, "this brings us well behind the last defence line. We have already mobilised support troops, and mechas are to head out to the front as soon as they can. I will be joining the vanguard with Interceptor. My call sign is Dragon. Phantom will take flanks and the back and offer support. The rift has a strong electronic presence, so be prepared for EMPs and disturbance on the communication channel. Keep your distance - we all still remember what happened to Tiger."
The reminder was needless, but everyone nodded nevertheless. It had been a bitter lesson about lapses in judgement and the effects those could have.
As he assumed his spot on the operator chair, Kieran noticed Zoya and Ildar already at the Interceptor's pedestal, this time climbing to the hatch through the regular route rather than the maintenance ladder - the staff had apparently taken Kieran's warning of hurrying it up seriously.
He watched the two work together like a well-coordinated animal pack of two. The way they effortlessly seemed to anticipate each other's movements and pace bordered on supernatural, and Kieran wondered if they were aware of how much it limited the proximity anyone else could have with them. That they lived in a bubble that seemed inaccessible to anyone else.
He wondered if either of them cared, even if they knew.
"Interceptor, starting out the initial connection," Zoya announced to the communication channel before she had even finished plugging herself to the vital monitor. Kieran acquiesced on his own screen, watched the Interceptor coming to life and watched the vitals of the two appearing, one line at a time.
"Interceptor, starting the contact sequence." Ildar's voice always seemed like it demanded something of you, demanded and took what it needed. Space. Attention. Obedience. Leniency. Kieran gave a short affirmation.
He hoped this was not one of the days they would have to fight for dominance.
"Interceptor, good to go."
Just like last time, Interceptor was the first mech to make its way out of the hangar, towards the anticipated site for battle. Dragon was not many minutes behind, and Phantom followed directly on Dragon's heels. This would be a good mission, Kieran decided; they had a dream team, skilled pilots, good equipment.
Well, good equipment and Interceptor. Skilled pilots, just without Nova.
A dream team, excluding the tendency Zoya and Ildar had of ignoring orders.
"We found the backup," Zoya announced. Kieran glanced towards the screen; they had reached the spot where the first unit of backup was, but there was no movement in the displays.
"Are they still there? The displays--"
"Dead," Ildar interjected coldly.
Well, that explained it.
"Approach with caution," he noted, knowing that it might be in vain, "Phantom, Dragon, our backup seems to be dead. No idea if they were DOA or if something caught them in here, but chances are Interceptor is getting close. We---"
"Visual!" Zoya's voice lashed through the air like a whip, and Kieran had barely time to check the screen before he saw something burrow from below the ground and crash straight into Interceptor's legs.
"Phantom, Dragon, we have enemy contact," he shouted, "Zoya, Ildar, you have to--"
"We know how to do this thing," Ildar growled in response, "just leave this to us, you do your operator thing or whatever."
Kieran gritted his teeth so hard he felt the pain in his jaw.
Interceptor fell through the air as a creature twice its size straightened to its full stature, but Zoya and Ildar managed to land the mech down on all fours, leaning heavily on its arms like a creature ready to hunt and lunge.
"Don't engage! Dragon is almost there, it's a heavily armoured mech intended for facing off enemies larger than itself," Kieran exclaimed in the comms, "Ildar, do you read me? Flank it and buy just ten seconds."
"Ten seconds is too slow," Ildar snapped as a reply at the same time Interceptor started moving towards its target. Kieran let out an exasperated curse as he followed Phantom and Dragon on the operation screen. Less than ten seconds, and Dragon could take over.
He had a bad feeling about this. It reminded too closely of things that were long past now, impulsive decisions that had led to the present moment where him, Hannah and Lonan were all just compromises of who they used to be.
He held his breath until Dragon charged in from between the bushes, sword revealed and clashing straight in the middle of the anomaly, providing both distraction and required force to push the anomaly back. Interceptor punched empty air and turned off.
Kieran sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. This was a really bad moment for that.
“Ildar, get your junk back online, this is an order,” he commanded with a voice filled with held-back anger.
"This is Phantom, visual on new enemy", Sarah shouted next to him, "Interceptor, it's behind you!" Kieran's eyes darted to the screen. Something was approaching, coming to the aid of its friend, and it was approaching fast.
“Interceptor, your six---"
Kieran watched from the main monitor as the bull-like creature rammed into Interceptor's right side, horns piercing the hull before it charged onward, letting out a sound that resembled roaring.
Mechas had joints that have several more degrees of mobility than a human joint; not too much to feel unnatural, but enough to make sure that the pilot would never be limited by the range of movement. He saw Interceptor’s right arm going way past its movement range before the screen data shut down.
Somewhere far away he heard the announcement: Phantom was going after it.
It was as if the anomaly had rammed straight into Kieran instead. First there was the impact, a blinding, deafening blow where the whole world stopped and fell as silent as Interceptor’s comm channel.
Dead.
“Interceptor, situation report”, Kieran stated as anxiety and adrenaline gripped at his heart. His eyes darted across the dashboard; all green on Ildar’s side, no damage done. Zoya’s data, however, was completely missing. The silence stretched. Kieran pressed his lips together, refreshed the feed. Same input.
Dead.
“Interceptor. Zoya, Ildar,” he snapped impatiently, just about to repeat his order when he heard a slight stutter and crackling from the channel.
“We-we need medical assistance.”
The response was from Ildar, slightly dazed but a firm voice. Relief washed through Kieran as he slumped in his chair.
“Ildar, I can’t get Zoya’s vital data on my monitor. Give me your situation report, what is happening?” He abandoned the missing vitals and started to check the damage to Interceptor. Several monitors seemed damaged with the hull, so perhaps the lack of vitals was just---
“We need help, oh my fucking god,” Ildar raised his voice to a yell, the alarm and dread now apparent in it, “Zoya, come on, pull it together.”
“Interceptor needs help,” Kieran stated firmly to the public operation channel, “retreating for evacuation.”
“Dragon and Phantom are prioritising catching the anomalies and finding the exact location of the rift,” Nicky informed him. “I’ll put you through to an evac team.”
“Interceptor copies. Ildar,” Kieran closed the operation channel, “I need you to get out of there. Is Zoya conscious? Can she pilot?”
“Like hell she can pilot, she’s just hanging by the fucking wires,” Ildar’s anxious voice snapped through the channels, “she’s conscious, or I think she is, at least the connection didn’t terminate yet. Zoya, snap the fuck out of it, wake up!”
“I need you to calm down and tell me if you can get Interceptor out of there. Evac team is on its way, but you need to get as far from the fighting as possible.” As soon as he had said the words, Interceptor’s movement sequence lit up and the mecha started to move back towards the base, floating barely above the ground with its thrusters.
“Controls seem to work just fine,” Ildar said, his shaky voice giving way to his training. “I might get us back all the way to the base. It’s just ten kilometres. Interceptor’s right shoulder is blown, looks like some control panels fell off from impact. That’s probably why you’re not getting all the data.”
“Is Zoya conscious? Can you tell if she’s in pain?” Kieran sent the coordinates to the evacuation team. The one silver lining in fighting so close to the base was knowing Zoya would not be dead until they would arrive.
“Not sure. I think she’s in shock, probably not fully conscious but not fully out of it either.” Ildar’s voice transitioned into a low, anxious curse, and from the sound of it, tossed his headset to the ground. On the monitor, Kieran saw Interceptor slowing down.
“Zoya, you have to stay awake, okay? We need to take this thing back to the base,” he paused, and Kieran thought it was hesitation in his voice, “help is on its way. You’re going to be just fine, just stay with me for now.”
From the monitors, Kieran saw that they were less than one kilometre away from the designated point, and updated the new coordinates for the evacuation team. If the worst would come to worst, he could always instruct them to go pick them up.
Fighters they could replace, but finding pilots compatible with each other was more expensive than building a new machine.
Interceptor made it five hundred more metres before the connection was terminated and the mecha crashed to the ground.
Afterwards, Kieran rewinded the events in his head and tried to convince himself his memory had jumbled up the order of the events. He saw Ildar leave his spot and heard him speaking to Zoya in a rapid, hushed tone. He heard something like a slap.
On his screen, he saw Interceptor dragging its feet forward, first left, then the right, for a total of another twenty metres.
Then, after agonising five minutes, he heard the sound of the hull opening and medical personnel entering.
That was the order he remembered things happening, even when he acknowledged it was impossible. Interceptor must have taken its last steps while Ildar was still piloting; there were precedents of it, pilots desperately trying to get to safety after their partner had died, managing to force the mecha to move for a few more steps.
Not that it mattered now. Because Zoya was not dead.
And if it was up to Kieran, she would not be dead anytime soon.
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