M-4. Left Behind

There’s nothing I hate more than being grounded.

I’d been out of the fight before, usually for disciplinary reasons. In those circumstances I had nobody to blame but myself, so my mood was more angry than stressed. But this time around it was simple bad luck, and that was frustrating me to no end. Sveta Prime was presently offline while she transferred two of her clones into the computer cores of the new X-23s. Sveta still had about an hour and a half to go on the transfers, before she would reawaken and my own X-23 would be usable once more.

In a sterling example of her profligacy at picking the worst times to attack, the Sarcophage girl Moby started bombarding Eros again during this transfer, with rapid kinetic strikes this time. The only X-23 we had available to send against her was Sabina’s unit. And now she was fighting alongside Lydia and Maurice, whereas I was grounded awaiting Sveta’s reawakening.

I was benched because of bad luck and bad timing. It felt grotesquely unfair. I had half a mind to grab a spare Velocipede and race into battle myself… but I’d be needed the instant Sveta reawoke, so I couldn’t very well go anywhere. I twiddled my thumbs and grit my teeth.

Ugh. I hate this. I really really hate this.

The mood in the hanger bay was similarly dour. The other pilots on standby besides me were just as frustrated, doubly so because the Captain wasn’t telling us anything other than to await orders. The sheer volume of negative energy swirling around with everyone’s tension was oppressive.

I decided I needed to do something to distract myself, and perhaps lift the mood. I didn’t know most of the pilots too well, considering them casual drinking buddies at best… but Genevi was there, looking extremely downcast. Moreso than me, if that was possible.

That’s right. Sabina is out there in a brand-new mech she’s never piloted before, and meanwhile Genevi is stuck on standby just like me.

I floated over to Genevi. She turned her head slightly, looking at me with dead eyes.

“Mind if I float here?” I asked quietly.

“Mmm.” Not much of an answer, but it seemed like she didn’t mind my presence.

I tried to strike up a conversation. “This is really frustrating, isn’t it?”

“Mmm.”

Oh no, I’ve seen this before. She’s one of those people who shuts down when she’s stressed. I wondered how far I should go in these circumstances; sometimes people in this state of mind wanted to be cheered up, and other times they just wanted to be left alone. Even if I was a dumbass when it came to romantic feelings, I tended to be pretty good at reading people’s moods otherwise. For example, Sveta was the kind of person who wanted to be cheered up when she was down. I wasn’t too sure about Genevi though.

Oh well, I’ll just play it by ear.

“You’re really worried, huh? About Sabina?” I asked carefully.

Genevi simply nodded.

I almost said ‘She’s a great pilot, she can take care of herself.’ but stopped myself. Nobody would know that better than Genevi, and I didn’t want to sound patronizing. Instead, I tried to draw her out by asking a question.

“You two are always fighting side-by-side, huh? This must be unusual for you to be apart like this.”

Genevi stared at me and blinked a few times before starting to speak slowly. “Not… that unusual. We’ve gone into battle separately before, sometimes.”

“I… I see.”

“She’s a skilled pilot, and she always comes back alive, and she’s in a more powerful Frame than she’s ever had before… but…” Genevi sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

“But that doesn’t make it any easier, huh?” I finished her unspoken thought.

Genevi nodded again.

I looked up at the ceiling, squinting at the bright florescent lights fifty meters above us, and lost myself in thought for a moment. But Genevi, apparently glad for someone to talk to, kept going.

“It’s just… I don’t know what I’d do without her. She’s saved my life so many times I can’t even count. Ever since we were children…” Her voice began to choke up a bit.

I looked back down at Genevi and placed one hand on her shoulder. “Don’t think negatively, now. She’s coming back this time too, even if I have to go out in a Chimera junkheap and haul her back myself.” I flashed a confident grin.

Genevi looked at me, eyes wide, before giggling quietly. “You two are a lot alike, you know that?”

“Huh? We are?” I wondered what she meant by that. We both had short haircuts, but somehow I suspected she was digging beyond the superficial.

“What you just said, it reminds me so much of her.” Genevi continued. “You’re both hotheaded, impulsive and refuse to let anyone die if you can help it.”

I rubbed the back of my head sheepishly. “I mean, that kinda stuff is just common sense, you know? Sveta goes out of her way to save people too… including you, that one time!”

“That’s true.” Genevi ran her fingers through her long, violet hair. “You’re both pretty special. Just like Sabina.”

She paused for a moment, then smiled warmly. “Miette… thank you.”

“Oh? For what?”

“For trying to cheer me up. I was shell-shocked for a while there, but you dragged me out of it.” Her smile grew wider.

I waved my hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Anybody would be out-of-sorts in this kinda situation. Besides, I’m pretty stressed myself.”

“YOU are?” Genevi seemed genuinely surprised. “You don’t seem like it.”

“I’m good at hiding it. Honestly, being benched like this drives me crazy.” I twirled my own finger through my short hair absentmindedly.

“Why’s that?”

“Well… when I’m piloting a Gravity Frame, everything just seems to make sense, yeah? Doubly so since I met Sveta. It’s like I’m powerful and in control, like I can kick any ass the universe throws at me. So in turn… when I can’t pilot, I feel small and vulnerable. I feel… human, I suppose.”

Internally, I wondered why I was telling her this. It wasn’t exactly something I went out of my way to advertise. If people know how insecure I felt, and how piloting was a crutch for me to boost my self-confidence, it would ruin my image as a top ace pilot. In fact, Sveta was the only one I was comfortable showing this side of myself to. But somehow, seeing how vulnerable Genevi looked earlier, I wanted to share a bit of my vulnerability with her, to let her know I was a kindred spirit.

Empathy is important in moments like these, yeah?

Genevi giggled again, and I thought for a moment she was making fun of me. “That makes a lot of sense, actually.” she said. “I’ve always seen you as this brazen, foul-mouthed, extremely cool delinquent who is brimming with self confidence. It’s nice to know you’re just as human as the rest of us.”

“Hurk. There goes my mystique.” I groaned, only half-joking.

“Mystique is overrated. I prefer the more vulnerable Miette, personally.” Genevi said firmly. I felt an arrow stab through my poor, prideful heart.

Wounded thusly, I felt like being a bit mean in return. “Well, to throw that right back at you… I used to think you were a shy, asocial doormat.”

“Urgh… harsh but true…” Genevi looked despondent again.

“But then I saw you go absolutely apeshit at the Christmas party and realized you have a lotta sides to you I’m only beginning to know.” I said, following up my insult with a backhanded compliment.

Genevi puffed up her cheeks in return. “I don’t even remember that night! And Sabina won’t tell me what I said in front of everyone…”

I chuckled. “Would you like to know?”

The sparkle in Genevi’s eyes as she leaned forwards was all the answer I needed.

*****

For the next hour, we talked and talked. I told her about her antics at the Christmas party, which horrified her… especially the bit about her making passes at Sveta.

“Wauuu… I can never show my face in public again…” she said despondently, curling up into a ball.

“There, there.” I replied, patting her on the head. “I think everyone was happy to see another side of Genevi they never knew existed, even if it was awkward.”

“NOT THAT SIDE! NOBODY NEEDS TO SEE THAT SIDE!” she wailed. “I bet they think I’m a voracious horndog now…”

Oh, we definitely think that. We’re just polite enough to not say it out loud. I thought with a wry smile.

After her embarrassment subsided, Genevi told me about the history she shared with her sister, all the way back to their upbringing in Italy. Their mother had died when they were only four years old, leaving the two completely alone with no other relatives. Because of the total war footing of human society, niceties like the old foster system or orphanages barely existed anymore; the two sisters had survived on the frozen streets of Turin for two years, begging for food and occasionally squatting in ruined buildings, until they were finally old enough to work in the factories at age six. They spent nine years in those factories, laboring away in the steel foundries, and even nearly died in a catastrophic fire… one that Sabina saved Genevi from.

I felt really guilty upon hearing that. Both of my parents were alive well into my late teens, and were relatively upper-ranking military officers besides. That meant my upbringing, while by no means luxurious, was at least comfortable; I had a roof over my head and enough plankton sludge to keep me from starving. Thinking about this, I noticed with a start that both Sabina and Genevi were about a head shorter than me; I wondered if their growth had been stunted due to malnutrition.

Genevi didn’t seem to have any bitterness regarding her upbringing, though. Her story wasn’t atypical these days, and she gushed endlessly about how fortunate she was to have her sister by her side the whole time. It seems going through such tribulation together had galvanized them into an unstoppable force, a battle-hungry pair who were joined at the hip. And at every turn, Sabina was always there to pull Genevi out of the fire… literally and figuratively.

When they told me about the Third Great Surge, my ears perked up. I hadn’t fought in that battle myself, instead being stationed on Eros at the time as one of Zehra’s test pilots. I had heard a lot about the Surge from other soldiers, but Genevi’s account was more visceral than I was expecting. She described the horrors of the battle in excruciating detail. Apparently, she had been assigned to the SGFC Chiroptera, which was grouped with three other carriers to defend a production station on the Tertiary Line.

The most disturbing part of her story was her vivid descriptions of how three days of endless battle took a physical and mental toll on the pilots. Stims are great when you need a temporary boost, but going for three days without food or rest, subsisting entirely on water and stims, really wrecks your body. Once again I found myself in awe of the Giacosa sisters, along with Lydia and everyone else who fought on the Line.

The way Genevi breathlessly described her rescue by Sabina right before the positron barrage was endearing, and she lionized her sister’s heroics in rapturous terms as usual. One detail of her story bugged me, however. She mentioned that, just before the barrage, they had also rescued a pilot whose mech had been torn apart by a Belphegor and escorted them out of the battle zone. Something about that detail felt familiar.

“Genevi, do you remember by any chance the names of the other three carriers in your combat group?”

“Ooh, I think so? They made us read that mission briefing dozens of times. There was, uh… Asertu, Mary Shelley and, uh… Ephedra?

I snapped my fingers. “The Ephedra. Bingo. What a damn incredible coincidence, though.”

“What are you talking about, Miette?” Genevi tilted her head in confusion.

“Remember when Lydia and Kometka were telling us about their first encounter with the Belphegor, during the Third Great Surge?”

“Uh… mostly…” Genevi played with her hair, trying to remember the details.

I folded my arms and thrust out my chest a bit triumphantly, feeling like a detective about to finger the prime suspect. “The Ephedra was Lydia’s ship.”

Genevi’s jaw hit the floor. “Wait… you mean that pilot we rescued was…”

“Lydia, yeah. And Kometka was probably awake inside her Gravity Frame too.”

“Wh… that’s… those were…” Genevi blubbered, robbed of cogency by her shock.

“Which means that Belphegor was Moby, before she became sentient. You might even say you unknowingly witnessed Moby’s birth.”

“Th-That’s…. that’s remarkable.” Geveni stuttered, regaining a small bit of her composure.

“Isn’t it? To think you met them all three years ago and didn't even know. It really is a small world, huh?”

Genevi shook her head in disbelief. “Amazing. We’re all interconnected, huh? As if by destiny… or divine providence!”

I knew Genevi was religious, and was probably crediting all this to God’s plan or whatever. I wasn’t so faithful myself, and thought it was merely a happy coincidence… but whatever. Either way, it was a small bit of good fortune in an otherwise harrowing tale.

I decided to change the topic slightly. “Imagine what Lydia and Kometka are gonna say when we tell them.”

“Oh, they’re gonna flip out!” Geneve said with a big smile.

*****

A little bit later, Genevi excused herself to use the bathroom. I looked down at my watch. There was still a half-hour to go before Sveta Prime came back online.

I hoped our pilots were doing well in the battle. The fact that the standby pilots hadn’t been called on to launch meant things must be going our way, or so I told myself. Without Genevi’s company to distract me, my stress returned with a vengeance.

Just then, a loud alarm klaxon rang out, followed by Tektite-4’s voice.

“ALL PILOTS, CLEAR THE LANDING BAY! ALL PILOTS, CLEAR THE LANDING BAY! EMERGENCY MAINTENANCE AND MEDICAL PERSONNEL ON STANDBY!”

That announcement sent me into a near-panic. Medical personnel? Is someone injured? As we all rushed to the safe zones, I stared hard at the airlock as it began to cycle.

Sabina, Maurice, Lydia, Kometka. Everyone… please be alright…

I gripped my hands so tightly my nails dug into my palms. I barely noticed the pain.