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Dry...bland...a texture like sawdust and equally as flavourless...
"Ration bar with dried apple" it says on the otherwise plain packaging, serving as the only way for me to know this thing is actually supposed to taste of something. I'm not even hungry, but going out on a mission on an empty stomach is the sort of mistake that I will not make again.
"Break times over 03, We are coming up on the drop point" A voice commands through the cockpits radio.
"Understood Ma'am…not like I was in a rush to finish eating this anyways"
"No need to get cute with me. I've already gotten more than enough of that today from 07. You understood the mission brief?"
07? Why the hell is she up here? This is supposed to be a solo op... unless...
Hah.
Oh Commander, you really distrust me that much? Need your little pet to make sure I do my job right, is that it?
"Of course. It's a basic rescue operation. A squad of our TALOS units got caught out by a U.T.F. ambush and you need me to make sure a pilot gets out alive"
"Key word being alive 03. That pilot is my ideal candidate for Unit 12 and I'm not about to let that opportunity go to waste"
"As you wish. Permission to initiate neural link?"
"Granted. Don't let me down."
Finally.
I reach over and flick up a large mechanical switch on the cockpits control panel, the ever so familiar rush of stimulants and adrenaline into my system is the last thing I feel before the link itself activates and everything goes dark.
I don't think there's a "nice" way of describing an active neural link and how it works. Of course people have tried. Dressed it up in all kinds of flowery language and kept the actual mechanism behind what's going on unexplained.
In reality though? It's a violent act. A forceful manipulation and linkage of two organisms' nervous systems. One of them a thirty foot tall lobotomized and genetically mutilated mass of alien flesh and armour, and the other a human "pilot" whose own consciousness is hijacked and redirected to control its new body.
When I finally come to and the eyes on TIAMAT Unit 3 open up, my eyes, everything feels normal again. I've been in and out of here so many times that this body feels more like my own than the thing that's strung up in my cockpit, only being kept alive by the involuntary actions of its brain stem and the cocktail of drugs being pumped into it through various tubes and IV lines.
This feels right.
I move my arm and everything responds as I expect it to, as its supposed to. When the restraints holding me in place unlock and I push myself up from the transport platform, I can walk forwards without relying on borderline lethal dosages of combat stimulants to keep me upright. Everything feels lighter, despite the obvious fact that this body is ten times the size than the one I was "piloting" before.
While I'm waiting for further orders to come through, my vision cant help but be drawn to the abomination in the hangar bay next to me. Its form is mostly similar to my own but where its right arm should be instead exists a mass of flesh and tangled wiring unnaturally curled around a ship-class rail cannon system. Unit 7 was the first successful attempt at grafting conventional mechanical weaponry into a TIAMAT frame, and describing it as "crude" would be an understatement. Everything about it looks wrong, as if a child had tried to replace one of its action figures arms with something from a different toy entirely, held together by tape and a generous helping of superglue.
I'll admit the thought of going over there and tearing its head off is rather tempting...oh how satisfying it would be to drive my claws deep into its skull, clamping down on the hardened bone and pulling it away...increasing the tension more as the muscle fibers start to snap, the arteries and veins being pried open as the pressure causes them to start helplessly spraying blood up the walls and over my body...the eventual, final satisfying crack as the neck breaks away from the rest of the spine..and if 07 is currently piloting it? Well that's even better. Nothing could compare to the pure bliss of knowing she is feeling everything.
Any further fantasies I may have had about ripping apart that mech of hers are cut short by the blaring sounds and lights coming from the hangar bay, a cold chill rushing over me as the loading ramp begins to open up.
"We will be over the target in about thirty seconds. Try not to miss 03"
The idea of someone speaking directly into your head will always feel wrong no matter how many times it happens ...these things technically have ears but obviously we can't hear anything coming out of the radio in the cockpit. That would be like expecting someone to hear whats going on inside their own stomach. So they decided to put some sort of implant in place on our regular bodies that can pick up on radio signals and then bypass the interference from the neural link to send that information directly into our brains.
Another voice speaks this time, much softer than the one before. I recognize it as our radio operator...uh... shit. What was her name again... started with a K maybe?..
"Commander has gone off to talk with 07 so I'm taking over on this end for now. Those U.T.F. guys down there are stupid enough to be talking on an open channel so I'll patch you into that once you are out of the drop ship."
Ah, Excellent. I do somewhat miss how it was before... back when I was piloting a regular old TALOS unit, shit talking the enemy was always so much fucking fun. Cant do that anymore. Annoyingly there's no way to actually talk while you are in one of these things, the unit itself doesn't have the right sort of vocal cords for that and, as with everything else, you are completely cut off from using your human ones.
"About ten seconds out from the drop point now 03, I would get moving if I were you. I really doubt the Commander will be happy if we have to loop around and do another pass…"
Oh right.
No need to keep thinking so hard about all of this.
Without wasting anymore time I get low to the ground, pushing off with my feet and launching myself forwards and out of the now fully opened hangar doors.
Lucky me. I have already spotted target number one before even touching down, and it doesn't look like they have noticed me yet either. Their sensors seem to be locked on the ship that's now flying off into the distance, completely oblivious to the fact that something just jumped out the back of it. Seems that this is going to be easier than I would have liked.
By the time one of them does actually turn their head to notice me its already too late. The legs of the unit find themselves immediately buckling under the weight of me landing on top of it, with the rest of the force being transferred directly into the metal plating surrounding the mechs cockpit. I don't need to look to know that there's now a massive dent in the chassis where I'm standing. The damage to the pilot will be even worse of course, probably bleeding out, choking to death as the life support systems fail, overheating as the coolant system for the fusion core begins to malfunction…I suppose the saving grace for them is that the initial impact probably knocked them unconscious, assuming it didn't just kill them outright.
I squat down and glare over towards the two other mechs, trying to get some idea of what I'm working with before they manage to snap out of the initial shock of what was presumably their friend being violently crushed in front of them. One EIDOLON frame and one TALOS frame, with no obvious indicators that they have been fitted with any fancy upgrades or specialty equipment.
"Landing confirmed 03, patching you into their comms now"
After a small amount of radio static and interference a new voice comes on over the radio, the subtle synthetic tones and matter of fact way of speaking however tell me that what I'm hearing is definitely not the pilots voice
"Target identified as TIAMAT Unit 03
Target has been re designated as a MARIONETTE
Target has been re designated as NON-HUMAN"
….They are using the AI targeting systems on standard units now?
"Pilots mental state deemed unacceptable for effective combat operations
Control override initiated
Beginning hostile action"
Shit.
I don't even have the time to react before a hail of bullets start flying in my direction from the EIDOLON unit, aiming directly for my cockpit with a level of precision that should be downright impossible for rookie pilots like these to achieve. Some of them sail past as I scramble to jump out of the way but for every one that doesn't, I can feel each of them sink into my flesh and get embedded inside, thickened blood beginning to ooze and drip down from the entry wounds.
They have to reload eventually of course, and as soon as they do I switch from evading and instead propel myself towards the mech closest to me, pulling my arm back and then driving it into the mechs shoulder joint as soon as I'm in range. The sharpened claws on my hand make short work of it, easily cleaving the arm away from chassis and leaving it to uselessly fall to the ground along with the rifle it was holding. With my other arm I clamp my hand firmly around the units opposite shoulder, using the weight of my body to force it to the ground.
There's no opportunity to immediately finish it off though as the other unit comes charging towards me with its blade drawn. An attempt that is quickly thwarted, the space filled with the sound of bones cracking and snapping into place, flesh tearing then quickly repairing itself as I extend out one of my body's secondary set of arms. With the unit clearly caught by surprise, my newly revealed limb easily manages to pierce into the mech. I feel as my hand tears through the metal surrounding the cockpit, then ripping through soft tissue and organs, then making contact and ripping into some sort of electrical system. Considering the units power immediately shuts down, my guess would be that whatever else was in that cockpit is what was responsible for housing or connecting to the AI system they seem to be using.
I pull my arm out from the ruined machine allowing its pieces collapse to the rocky surface. Any remnants of the pilot are quickly shaken off, pieces of viscera that clung to my hand finding themselves joining the sparking pile of torn metal down below.
Now. One more to go.
My gaze returns back to the unit that's pinned beneath me - still continuing its helpless struggles against my grasp. No matter how hard it tries though, the pistons and machinery that allow it to move simply are not strong enough to push me away. My third hand reaches around and extends its grasp around the units head, pushing it to the side and exposing all the delicate joints and wiring that keep it connected to the rest of its frame. Its amazing how similar these robotic forms can be to a living person, wires running through them as nerves do, the coolant fluids being pumped around and allowing a machine to "bleed", the deep vibrations and thrum from the fusion cores acting as its heart beat. My jaws open up as I lean in to clamp around the units "neck", my teeth easily finding purchase and slicing through the bundles of wiring. A sudden chill as I puncture one of the coolant lines, the fluid evaporating as it drips down and hits my tongue. I bite down further, hitting and then tearing through more solid metal as the joint holding everything in place is sheared off. The head tilts backwards and then rolls slightly to the side with a growing puddle of freezing liquid forming underneath it.
A guttural sound escapes from my throat as I adjust position to allow me to reach down and pry open the cockpit. I see the pilot sitting there, under that helmet her face is contorted into a visage of pure terror. Her eyes reddened as tears run down her cheeks, her arms tightly curled around her frame. Perhaps hoping that by appearing as helpless as possible I would simply let her go.
…let her go.
Wait…
Why am I here?
A rescue mission…
…
Who am I rescuing again?
My thoughts are silenced by a sudden deafening crack, followed by an overwhelming blast of pressure as a massive projectile flies over my head. Looking back I see our ship landed far in the distance with the form of unit 07 crouched down beside it, rail cannon aimed in my direction.
"03 this is your final warning, cease all action immedielty and back away from the pilot" the Commander says through the radio, I don't even remember hearing the channel switch. I wonder how long she has been trying to talk to me.
Taking another look down beneath me I realize the "issue"
A TALOS unit. One of our TALOS units.
Almost as soon as I'm back in the hangar bay of the ship, the Commander sends across the shutdown signal for the neural link. A sudden lightheadedness hits me as everything goes black once again, quickly replaced with an unbearable brightness as the lights of the cockpit hit the eyes of the pilot, my eyes. Before I even have the chance to get used to anything I find myself retching, the nausea and cramping around my stomach forcing up the remnants of that ration bar I ate earlier. Though just because it comes up smoother after having eaten something, that doesn't make it any more pleasant. That acrid taste, a mix of bile and a non insignificant amount of blood, will be stuck in my mouth for the rest of the day at least.
Time passes by painfully slow, sitting there in the cockpit and waiting for the worst of the symptoms to pass. My eyes adjust first…the sense of vertigo and nausea take longer. The sharp stabbing pain coming from my side comes and goes…phantom pain from an extra limb that's no longer there, or I suppose technically I never had. This persistent sense of unease and feeling trapped in a body that isn't actually mine, yeah…that one's not going away anytime soon.
Reaching up behind me I wrap my hand around the neural link itself, a massive bundle of cables that serve as protection for the delicate biomechanical structures that allow the link to function. With one solid twisting motion I unplug it from the connection port built into the back of my neck, allowing the device to retract back up into the cockpit. The next step is disconnecting all of the various IV tubes, a task that thankfully has been made easier over time. The implantation of various ports and central lines across my body mean I no longer have to physically stab myself with a bunch of needles every time I want to pilot this thing.
I take another few moments to collect myself, wiping some excess blood from around my mouth before pressing the button to open up the cockpit to the outside world. The mechanical whirring of pistons and machinery fill the air, the doors sliding themselves into place and locking open to reveal a path out and onto a metal platform. I use my arms to help push me up out of the pilots seat and to get me upright, thankfully it actually doesn't take too much effort. The massive dose of stimulants that are still in my system really are doing a lot of the heavy lifting in ensuring I can still move.
Stepping out of the cockpit I waste no time in heading out of the hangar bay. The Commander wants to see me. I don't even need an order from her to know that. I don't know how she will respond to what happened out there, maybe she will put me down right then and there. I'm sure her higher ups would be more than happy with that. Nobody wants or needs a weapon that cant even tell the difference between a friendly unit and an hostile. Realistically though I don't think she will want to get rid of me that easily, I'm sure she will find a way to keep on using me until there's nothing left.
But I keep walking. Regardless of what awaits at the end of this hall in that office.
"Well well! If it isn't our favourite little psychopath. Glad to see you alive and well after the stressful job of attempting to maul your future coworkers to death"
Of course she's here already.
"Though I suppose…. wouldn't be the first time right 03?" she says while wandering up towards me, looking up with her typical smug grin that makes me want to grab a fistful of her hair and repeatedly bash her face into a wall.
"07. Can you at the very least save your usual bullshit until after I've met with the Commander?"
"She's busy right now anyways, still going over everything with Skye"
Huh? Who is she talking about?
"Seriously? Whats with that blank stare?" she then covers her mouth as if to stifle a laugh.
"Oh my god don't tell me you actually forgot her name again. Honestly! I'm surprised that brain of yours even functions with how little seems to be going on up there"
Yeah that doesn't help. Genuinely I have no idea…oh wait no…Skye…it rings a bell…
"Our radio operator?"
07 moves over to the side and sarcastically pats me on the back.
"Well done! Seeeee that wasn't so hard now was it?"
"Great. Any other words of wisdom for me 07? Or are you just going to stand here begging for my attention until the Commander finishes up"
"Oh sure whatever, why the hell would I want your attention of all people anyways?"
This fucking brat… Fine. Maybe if I give her what she wants she will be quiet for once. I turn around and in one swift motion I press my arm against her neck and force her up against the wall next to us
"Why don't you tell me huh? Or are can you not even admit that the only reason you insist on bothering me like this is because no one else will pay any attention to you?"
Of course she does her best to struggle, trying to push me off or slip away to the side. The reality is that in most circumstances even though I am physically stronger, she would actually be able to overpower me. Right now though? The drugs running through my system are more then enough to keep my body responding how it should be.
"You…I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, get the hell-"
A solid fist driven into her stomach is more than enough to keep her quiet. I can feel her wanting to keel over from the impact, but all that does is push her against my arm even more and put more pressure on her neck. My head moves in closer to allow me to speak directly into her ear.
"We both know you spend most of your time nowadays holed up in your dorm and not talking to anyone, I wonder why that is? It wouldn't have anything to do with people avoiding you after you killed one of their friends right? Sure sure, I already know what you will say. That you didn't have a choice. That you are just following orders. But that doesn't change what happened. 01 is dead because you fired that shot. You did that. No one else."
Her struggling stops, now just looking up at me with a look in her eyes that tell me I've hit it exactly on the mark. Its not new information of course. We both know it. Everyone else probably does as well. Though I suppose hearing someone say it out loud to your face is probably the last thing you would want to hear.
"And so here you are, coming to me over and over again because you know I'm the only one who actually gives you any kind of attention outside of the Commander. Even if that attention is just you annoying the hell out of me until I use you as a personal punching bag. Maybe that's want you want though right? Do you feel guilty about all of this 07? Do you think that letting me use you freely will somehow make me feel better about the fact you murdered the single most important person in my life?"
It looks like she might be seconds away from crying, but I don't care. Seeing her this pathetic and vulnerable just makes me want to keep going. I want to see her suffer. I want her to hurt. I want to without a single bit of doubt in my mind that she feels like crap about what she did, and I want to make it so she can never let that feeling go.
"But there's something else as well right? Because despite how utterly miserable you are feeling right now, we both know how worked up you get at being thrown around like this"
I move my knee up against her crotch, and sure enough I can feel her dick twitching through her flightsuit. What better way to make sure she never forgets this feeling than by making her get off on it right?
"…I…I'm sorry jus-"
Whatever she was about to say is replaced by a whimper as I start rhythmic pressing my leg into her, all while still keeping her locked in place with my arm resting against her throat. I stop moving though shortly after, instead just leaving my leg in place. She wastes little time in taking up the offer and immediately begins helplessly grinding her hips into me. As someone who has been almost completely isolated for the past couple of months its not surprising that shes so damn desperate for this.
"Much better. God…I think this genuinely might be the only way to get you to shut the hell up. Maybe I should let the others know so they can take advantage of it as well huh?"
That just seems to make her moan harder, so much that I didn't even notice that the Commander had come out of her office until she speaks.
"Enjoying yourselves are we?"
I can tell 07 was getting close just from how much she was whining as the fact she was digging her nails into my back, but despite that the sound of the Commanders voice is still enough of a shock to stop herself from moving and pushing herself over the edge.
"Oh? 07 I don't recall telling you to stop." She says while pulling a cigarette out from her coat and placing it between her lips
"I..yyess Sir…"
And before long 7's hips starts bucking into me again. Because of course she does. She isn't about disobey a direct order from her beloved Commander. She seems barely able to even think for herself…and that just pisses me off more.
I can see a world where maybe I could have even forgiven her for everything, if back then she was the one who pulled the trigger of her own volition. But no. The only reason she actually went through with it was because the Commander ordered her too, and like a good little dog she obeyed and did as she was told. No hesitation. No second thoughts. What a fucking joke.
I push more of my body weight into her, both increasing the pressure between her legs and pressing my arm harder against her throat. Those moans shifting into pained gasps as she struggles to catch her breath.
I turn my head and glare over towards the Commander. No reaction. She continues to just stand there watching us, every now and again taking a drag of her cigarette. Does she even care about any of this? If I just didn't move my arm away, let 07's head get more starved of oxygen until she finally stops moving. Would she do anything?
I press harder. Still nothing. Her demeanor doesn't change. Still just standing back and observing with the ever so slightest hint of a smile on her lips. Its like she wants me to keep going. Daring me to see how far I will take it.
I do stop though and step back when 07's body finally gives out, letting her collapse down to the floor. The wet spot she left on my leg making it clear that she must have orgasmed at some point while I was choking her out.
"03, my office please." and without another word the Commander heads back thorough those doors at the end of the hall.
I give one last look down at 07 before I follow her. Shes still breathing, but it will probably leave a bruise. Or two considering I did also punch her. I don't think she will particularly mind though.
I head down the corridor and into the office. The room is clean, but there's very little in the way of personal items or furniture. Its only a temporary room that she uses on this drop ship after all. The one back in the base is significantly more extravagant.
"That was quite a show you two put on out there. Enjoyed yourself I hope?"
…sometimes I forget just how much of a freak she can be. I don't think I've ever had a superior officer before her that would look at two of their pilots fucking in the corridor and not care. Hell I'm sure some part of her gets off on it…wouldn't surprise me at this point.
"…No complaints from me Ma'am…"
"Good. Ill keep this short. Once we are back at the facility I will be sending you for a full medical workup. Including neural scans and checking that your implants are still functioning correctly. I believe I don't need to waste time explaining why?"
As "punishments" go it could be worse…actually no, it should be worse. All this means is that I wont be able to pilot anything for a couple of weeks while the clinical and research staff spend hours pouring over the results of various tests. This cant be everything…
"That puzzled look on your face tells me you are wondering why I'm seemingly going so easy on you. Its simple. The decision on what to do with you are out of my hands."
That is certainly worse.
"I have no choice but to report this incident higher up the chain, and if those test results happen to show significant enough levels of neurodegeneration then I fully expect to receive an order to dispose of you."
"I understand Ma'am…"
Of course I do. I knew this would happen sooner or later. Its what would have happened with 01. Its what did happen with 02, even if she got away with just a quarantine order. "Only to be used when no other options are available" I believe was the exact wording they gave. Outside of that she usually just sits in an isolation ward staring at a wall, barely recognizing or remembering anything about her own life…its a unique type of hell that I wouldn't want to wish on anyone.
Regardless of everything that happened today, I am painfully aware that the ways my future can unfold have already been laid out before me in grim detail by people who I have spent most of my life with. I'm either lucky enough to get a quick, violent death or I get stuck with a prolonged one as my brain continues to fail me.
"Good. The pilot you "rescued" is stable in case you were wondering. She had passed out by the time we got her into the ship, but physically she is fine."
"…is that everything Ma'am?"
"It is. You are dismissed"
I give a salute and then head out of the office, beginning the trek back to my quarters.
That pilot…maybe I shouldn't have stopped. She probably would be have been better off if she died there instead of getting tangled up in this mess.
…Its too late now I suppose.