Fox stood in front of Chief Administrator Tessaâs window â his office, unlike hers, was placed high up in the base, and overlooked the plains beyond. The Administrator, a red faced man in his forties was stood behind his desk, hands planted either side of the transfer forms she had come to request.
âIâm sorry, Fox, could you repeat that?â
âI want to try and recreate Kayaâs damaged Ego Pillar. For that I need a new hound.â Fox simplified. âKaya relies on an external connection for stability, and that connection has been severed. I intend to create a new external relationship to bring her back to stability.â
âDoesnât she have you? Why arenât you suitable as an âexternal relationshipâ?â
âIâm her handler, Tessa, I canât fill that role. Iâm too distant, Too controlling,â she sighed.
Tessa took a long drag from his cigarette. Paused.
âWhy bother? Kaya is just a failing dog. Just replace her like all the others.â
Foxâs response was dismissive. âKaya knows the swamps better than any of our pilots. It would take years to train another to operate at her level in that environment.â
Chief Administrator Marcus Tessa narrowed his eyes at the handler. âAnd how do you intend to complete this project. She should be deploying again in a few weeks. Hardly enough time for you to foster her a ârelationshipâ.â
Fox smirked. âLike you said earlier â Kaya is falling apart. Sheâs not suitable for field work. Iâve already put in an internal transfer to get her out of active service for a few months.â
âSo why are you here, Fox?â
Another smirk. âI need your approval to transfer my candidate and begin the process. Normally I wouldnât need to involve you â itâd be an internal affair â but my best chance of success is with a pilot on your roste-â
âYou want me to black-bag a military pilot to condition into one of your animals?â Tessa cut her off, indignation rising in his voice. âYou want me to stick my hands into that kind of business to keep your Mutt alive? Sacrifice one of my pilots to your program? I wonât give my approval to that kind of busine-â
âIâm not asking you to disappear a pilot, Tessa,â Fox laughed. âI just want to transfer the girl into Kayaâs quarters for now. Check to see if sheâs suitable,â - She turned to the window, knitting her fingers behind her back - âThere shouldnât be any problems with that â itâs been standard for a while to try and set up mixed hound-pilot bunks. Helps cohesion in the field if people are familiar with the dogs.â
Sharply, âI know the logic. Only a room transfer?â
âOnly a room transfer,â she confirmed.
She paused. Waited long enough for his concerns of illicit requisitions to subside. Let him break the brief silence himself.
âBut you still want to condition whoever it is - you mentioned needed a new hound, not an assistant.â
âIf everything goes smoothly, you wonât need to life a finger,â she reassured him, âthe subject should volunteer for the program of her own free will.â
âYou mean youâll coerce the girl into volunteering?â
âOf course not. I doubt anything so crude would be necessary.â
A pause.
âIâm not going to ask for one of your aces, or your officers, if thatâs what youâre worried about.â
âOh? You just want one of the grunts?â his relief was almost palpable.
Fox fought to keep the smile from spreading across her face. She nodded, her back still to the Administrator. She heard Tessa sit and pull his chair forward. Heard him pick up a pen.
âWho is it then.â
Handler Fox smiled softly into the window. She couldnât remember the last time sheâd had an office with a view, and the plains could look quite lovely this time of year. She was still holding her hands behind her back, but now she relaxed and brought them together in front of her.
Tessa heard her crack her knuckles before she turned to give him the relevant details.
Fox stood in front of Chief Administrator Tessaâs window â his office, unlike hers, was placed high up in the base, and overlooked the plains beyond. The Administrator, a red faced man in his forties was stood behind his desk, hands planted either side of the transfer forms she had come to request.
âIâm sorry, Fox, could you repeat that?â
âI want to try and recreate Kayaâs damaged Ego Pillar. For that I need a new hound.â Fox simplified. âKaya relies on an external connection for stability, and that connection has been severed. I intend to create a new external relationship to bring her back to stability.â
âDoesnât she have you? Why arenât you suitable as an âexternal relationshipâ?â
âIâm her handler, Tessa, I canât fill that role. Iâm too distant, Too controlling,â she sighed.
Tessa took a long drag from his cigarette. Paused.
âWhy bother? Kaya is just a failing dog. Just replace her like all the others.â
Foxâs response was dismissive. âKaya knows the swamps better than any of our pilots. It would take years to train another to operate at her level in that environment.â
Chief Administrator Marcus Tessa narrowed his eyes at the handler. âAnd how do you intend to complete this project. She should be deploying again in a few weeks. Hardly enough time for you to foster her a ârelationshipâ.â
Fox smirked. âLike you said earlier â Kaya is falling apart. Sheâs not suitable for field work. Iâve already put in an internal transfer to get her out of active service for a few months.â
âSo why are you here, Fox?â
Another smirk. âI need your approval to transfer my candidate and begin the process. Normally I wouldnât need to involve you â itâd be an internal affair â but my best chance of success is with a pilot on your roste-â
âYou want me to black-bag a military pilot to condition into one of your animals?â Tessa cut her off, indignation rising in his voice. âYou want me to stick my hands into that kind of business to keep your Mutt alive? Sacrifice one of my pilots to your program? I wonât give my approval to that kind of busine-â
âIâm not asking you to disappear a pilot, Tessa,â Fox laughed. âI just want to transfer the girl into Kayaâs quarters for now. Check to see if sheâs suitable,â - She turned to the window, knitting her fingers behind her back - âThere shouldnât be any problems with that â itâs been standard for a while to try and set up mixed hound-pilot bunks. Helps cohesion in the field if people are familiar with the dogs.â
Sharply, âI know the logic. Only a room transfer?â
âOnly a room transfer,â she confirmed.
She paused. Waited long enough for his concerns of illicit requisitions to subside. Let him break the brief silence himself.
âBut you still want to condition whoever it is - you mentioned needed a new hound, not an assistant.â
âIf everything goes smoothly, you wonât need to life a finger,â she reassured him, âthe subject should volunteer for the program of her own free will.â
âYou mean youâll coerce the girl into volunteering?â
âOf course not. I doubt anything so crude would be necessary.â
A pause.
âIâm not going to ask for one of your aces, or your officers, if thatâs what youâre worried about.â
âOh? You just want one of the grunts?â his relief was almost palpable.
Fox fought to keep the smile from spreading across her face. She nodded, her back still to the Administrator. She heard Tessa sit and pull his chair forward. Heard him pick up a pen.
âWho is it then.â
Handler Fox smiled softly into the window. She couldnât remember the last time sheâd had an office with a view, and the plains could look quite lovely this time of year. She was still holding her hands behind her back, but now she relaxed and brought them together in front of her.
Tessa heard her crack her knuckles before she turned to give him the relevant details.
Fox stood in front of Chief Administrator Tessaâs window â his office, unlike hers, was placed high up in the base, and overlooked the plains beyond. The Administrator, a red faced man in his forties was stood behind his desk, hands planted either side of the transfer forms she had come to request.
âIâm sorry, Fox, could you repeat that?â
âI want to try and recreate Kayaâs damaged Ego Pillar. For that I need a new hound.â Fox simplified. âKaya relies on an external connection for stability, and that connection has been severed. I intend to create a new external relationship to bring her back to stability.â
âDoesnât she have you? Why arenât you suitable as an âexternal relationshipâ?â
âIâm her handler, Tessa, I canât fill that role. Iâm too distant, Too controlling,â she sighed.
Tessa took a long drag from his cigarette. Paused.
âWhy bother? Kaya is just a failing dog. Just replace her like all the others.â
Foxâs response was dismissive. âKaya knows the swamps better than any of our pilots. It would take years to train another to operate at her level in that environment.â
Chief Administrator Marcus Tessa narrowed his eyes at the handler. âAnd how do you intend to complete this project. She should be deploying again in a few weeks. Hardly enough time for you to foster her a ârelationshipâ.â
Fox smirked. âLike you said earlier â Kaya is falling apart. Sheâs not suitable for field work. Iâve already put in an internal transfer to get her out of active service for a few months.â
âSo why are you here, Fox?â
Another smirk. âI need your approval to transfer my candidate and begin the process. Normally I wouldnât need to involve you â itâd be an internal affair â but my best chance of success is with a pilot on your roste-â
âYou want me to black-bag a military pilot to condition into one of your animals?â Tessa cut her off, indignation rising in his voice. âYou want me to stick my hands into that kind of business to keep your Mutt alive? Sacrifice one of my pilots to your program? I wonât give my approval to that kind of busine-â
âIâm not asking you to disappear a pilot, Tessa,â Fox laughed. âI just want to transfer the girl into Kayaâs quarters for now. Check to see if sheâs suitable,â - She turned to the window, knitting her fingers behind her back - âThere shouldnât be any problems with that â itâs been standard for a while to try and set up mixed hound-pilot bunks. Helps cohesion in the field if people are familiar with the dogs.â
Sharply, âI know the logic. Only a room transfer?â
âOnly a room transfer,â she confirmed.
She paused. Waited long enough for his concerns of illicit requisitions to subside. Let him break the brief silence himself.
âBut you still want to condition whoever it is - you mentioned needed a new hound, not an assistant.â
âIf everything goes smoothly, you wonât need to life a finger,â she reassured him, âthe subject should volunteer for the program of her own free will.â
âYou mean youâll coerce the girl into volunteering?â
âOf course not. I doubt anything so crude would be necessary.â
A pause.
âIâm not going to ask for one of your aces, or your officers, if thatâs what youâre worried about.â
âOh? You just want one of the grunts?â his relief was almost palpable.
Fox fought to keep the smile from spreading across her face. She nodded, her back still to the Administrator. She heard Tessa sit and pull his chair forward. Heard him pick up a pen.
âWho is it then.â
Handler Fox smiled softly into the window. She couldnât remember the last time sheâd had an office with a view, and the plains could look quite lovely this time of year. She was still holding her hands behind her back, but now she relaxed and brought them together in front of her.
Tessa heard her crack her knuckles before she turned to give him the relevant details.
Handler Fox sighs, leaning back in her chair and slapping down the sheaf of reports from the girlâs latest deployment, damage reports and telemetry data spilling across the steel surface of her desk.
What. To do. About. Kaya?
Her performance through the last three deployments would not have raised eyebrows amongst the clerks who oversaw the 7th armies standard mission reports and pilot performance, Fox knew. After all, Kaya had shown an exemplary willingness to be deployed for long periods as of late â most pilots of her type needed much more encouragement to maintain their stability for the long deployments that were standard for guard dogs. But something hadnât sat right about her behaviour these last months. Fox had had her theories of course â she wasnât some green rookie, she could see that Kayaâs behaviour had shifted. But she hadnât been sure why.
Sheâd watched as the mech-techs had pulled the girl from her cockpit a few hours ago and what she'd seen had confirmed her suspicions. Kaya had looked almost disappointed (as much as was possible in the state she came out of the cockpit in) and that disappointment had solidified after they'd managed to get her out of the snaking cables and neural interfaces of Mudskipper's long-term life support systems and onto the stretcher to get her into the medbay. Fox had dealt with a lot of pilots over the years, but none that werenât glad to be out of the innards of their machines after a long deployment â even the ones who preferred being patched into their frames through neural implants and IV tubes to living with their human senses wanted out after months of the dark, hot, stinking hearts of their machines. No. Fox was quite sure Kaya wasnât disappointed to be being removed from that and transferred to the relative comfort of the medical wing.
Kaya was disappointed that she made it back.
Fox rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. Leaned forward again, resting on her elbows.
Gods. Why didnât I see it sooner?
The problem was glaringly obvious now she thought about it. Sheâd run some psych tests to make certain but even so â she was ashamed it hadnât hit her sooner.
Half a year ago, Kaya had been one of a bonded pair â her and her sister-hound, Elsie. Fox had conditioned them together, arranged their ego pillars so that the two would support one anotherâs conditioning and operate better as a unit in the field. A good system â a tried-and-true method for producing scout units that could be left no-contact for weeks.
Problem was, Elsie had been killed in action. The two had been stationed out east when Vars the younger had launched his campaign westward. Theyâd been caught behind the line of his advance and when they made to break through and link back up with the main body of the seventh, theyâd been ambushed by one of Varsâ outrider sections. Elsie had been killed covering Kayaâs retreat. The grief had been terrible at the time, but Fox had thought the months off deployment had been enough to let her process. Clearly, she had been wrong. In the months after her sisterâs death, the pain had metastasised into something much worse than grief. Kaya was well-conditioned enough that direct suicide wouldnât be a danger â the handlers had learned early on that even with willing test subjects, there was a danger of self-destruction if one or more Ego Pillars collapsed and in the aftermath of some grisly incidents, a standard part of conditioning had become stamping out the ability to directly self-terminate â but even so pilots could put themselves into harmâs way. Try to invite death, even if their conditioning prevented them from realising that was what they were doing. Kaya had tried with those five guardsmen in the swamp â Mudskippers combat logs showed clearly how reckless shed become, so much so that she nearly hadnât made it out of the fight. The pistol was the worse offender. A few degrees to the left and the shots would have punched through the cockpit and Kaya would be as dead as her sister right now â and the girl had known she was in danger but done nothing.
How could I be so stupid?
One of Kayaâs Ego Pillars was founded on an external connection â a personal relationship. That pillar was missing, and now Kaya was unbalanced â acting recklessly. Taking fights she knew she might not survive. Of course, Kaya could be replaced. She was by no means a truly exceptional pilot, and new recruits for the program were plentiful. Her performance was taking hits, and now her unbalanced state could easily be a danger to the safety of the base. Fox could always have the poor girl terminated and simply train up new hounds.
But, no. sheâd grown quite fond of her ambush predator, in her own way of course. And she didnât want the poor thing to die so miserably alone. Besides. Kayaâs situation presented a unique opportunity. Usually when one of a bonded pair dies, the other perishes shortly afterward â driven into the one who killed its partner in a suicidal charge. But not here. Kayaâs reason had won out against the animal impulse, and she had survived, even with her sister dead. Fox was being presented with a very special situation here.
Could she repair the damaged Ego Pillar? It would require constructing a new connection that could fill the void left by Elsieâs passing, one that didnât put the existing conditioning structures of Kayaâs mind under stress.
Fox set her elbows on the desk in front of her and cracked her knuckles absently, mulling over the possibilities.
It canât be a sister. I can rule that one out immediately â too much competition from Elsie. Too much chance for comparison.
A mother perhaps?
She scowled, casting the thought aside as quickly as it had risen. No. for one thing there werenât any pilots on the base old enough to fill that role, and for another the authority figure could compromise Foxâs own position in the dynamic â she didnât need to be jostling with another for the control of her hound.
Then it hit her.
A lover?
There was no reason it wouldnât work â there was plenty of work on romantically paired hounds to draw on as a guide, even if the connection wasnât usually fostered in such unusual circumstances, and a partner wouldnât challenge Foxâs authority over her hound, nor be in competition with Elsieâs memory like another sister would be. And love was easy. So chemical and predictable â and she knew Kaya better than the girl knew herself. She wouldnât even need very long to get the whole affair up and running.
Fox leans back, smiling to herself in the privacy of her windowless office, buried deep within the kennels at the bottom of the army base. She already had a candidate in mind.
Not buried unwillingly; she buried herself here â and very well. It would take a rare sort of pilot to notice Kayaâs machine. Her mech is buried so deep in muck and stagnant water that the only parts visible are the very top of its angular torso and the square peaks of its armoured shoulders. Even those are, by now, covered in a layer of rotting leaves and muddy slime, the result of almost four months sat unmoving in the deep water of the swamps.
The five mechs moving past her position certainly havenât noticed her, so the camouflage must be doing its job.
Kaya is a guard. A scout. Sent here back in April to guard the flanks of the 7th army against any who would dare brave the swamps west of the Cos. She has known about the five before her for hours now âone of her sensors had been tripped in the small hours of the morning. She has been awake for months though, alert, and ready. Waiting for an opportunity like this. She reaches out blindly in the cockpit of her Mudskipper, searching for the radio switch that will open a brief comms channel back to base. Her eyes cannot help her with this; they are linked through her augments to the Mudskipperâs sensors. She sees, hears, feels through its mechanical body.
The comms channel flashes open.
>> Hostiles sighted. Visual contact at 1100 hours.
Kaya does not wait for confirmation from her Handler.
Mudskipper surges from the swamp in a spray of filthy water, generators roaring to life as she readies the wide-bladed axe in her left hand. Kaya feels the IV lines hooked to her arms and stomach and neck begin to feed combat stimulants into her body, feels her reactions speed, her perceptions slow.
There should be another⊠another coming from behind themâŠ
To their credit, the enemy machines are fast to respond. Before Kaya has even fully cleared the water they are spinning and dropping their polearms â their rifles wonât be useful at short distance â they set their weapons to repulse a charge and prepare their back-mounted missiles to fire. Fine. Kaya isnât one of the animal pilots who can only fight hand-to-hand â who would throw themselves on the wall of spears in front of her, and her Mudskipper is armed with more than just the wicked handaxe. She slows, stalling her charge and levels the breacher shotgun mounted to her right arm. Fires. She is still far enough away that she can aim properly, that the slug, wide as a small car can still find its target true. The shot punches through the hip of the rightmost mech, sending coolant and wrecked steel spraying out as the machine falls forward into the dirty water, incapacitated.
A message in her peripheral vision.
>> Copy Mudskipper. Do not engage.
Too late.
Three of the remaining mechs now charge, weapons low. Only one stays back. An officer, who draws a longsword from his side, and launches a pair of missiles from the tubes mounted at the back of his machines torso. The two projectiles are thrown up, rockets flaring to life as they suddenly dart forward and down for her position.
Thank the gods Mudskipper is fast. She plants a steel foot and pushes to one side, throwing the weight of her mech into the rightmost enemy. They thrust upward with their halberd, but Kaya is quicker, and bats the flat of the blade aside with a metal fist even as she brings the blade of her axe down into the poor souls shoulder joint.
The missiles splash down into the water behind her and detonate, sending up a pillar of slime and muddy water, as well as a wave strong enough that kaya is knocked down, dragging the Andriosi mech with her, her axe still lodged in the joints of its shoulder. Even with half their mech scrapped, the pilot still fights though, shifting to a higher grip and stabbing at Mudskipperâs waist joint. They crack the delicate hydraulics protective armour before Kaya can dislodge the axeblade from their shoulder joint to wedge the axeâs toe into the machines top-hatch and lever it open, sending swampwater pouring into the cockpit. The mech stops stabbing after that, and Kaya stands, just in time to see the other two mechs and the officer splashing towards her.
The waves must have slowed them down, she thinks, strafing back and left, pulling their line into a looser formation, otherwise theyâd already be on me.
The first halberdier Charges forward - bold, brave even. Too bold. He has left the weak points of his armour vulnerable. Kaya doesnât slow as she sends two slugs streaking into his torso. The dead mech crashes into the water beside her.
The last two are more cautious. They slow, not stopping, but enough to buy them precious time. Kaya sees them throw up a barrage of missiles from their back tubes. A spread pattern, preventing any manoeuvres like she used to avoid the last attack. Preventing all but one.
She charges forward under the arc of the missiles. Sends her own missiles streaking out toward the officer. Not as powerful as the catapult-types theyâve been throwing at her, but still powerful enough to merit avoiding. She can almost hear him cursing as he lurches sideways to avoid her attack. The last halberdier steadies himself. Thumps forward spearing at her with the point of his halberd. Idiot. Kaya twists Mudskipper to the side, lets the blade slip past her, and brings the axeblade down on the shaft of the weapon. The mech is defenceless as she brings her axe to bear against its fragile joints, carving the helpless thing apart before it can drop the useless halberd shaft and bring its arms up to shield itself.
Her assault is brought to a premature end when a sword rakes down Mudskippers back plates, slicing through the systems housed at the rear of the scout mech before a heavy blow sends Kayaâs metal body sprawling, splashing into the swamp.
The officer.
There should be another to have my backâŠ
The blade thumps down against Mudskipperâs back again, but Kaya is ready this time. She rolls, grabbing at the officer-mechs sword hand before he can pull back to prepare another strike. He falls. Kaya has lost her axe in the confusion, and her shotgun wonât be much use at this range. She throws it aside. She still has the strength of Mudskipperâs steel fingers.
She brings down a fist on the officer mech and pushes the torso back down into the swampwater. Heâs grabbed for his sidearm, she can tell, hoping to shoot up through the damaged armour at her waist joint to puncture the cockpit. Kaya presses down and her metal fingertips crunch through the armour of the officers chestplate. She begins to pull. Peels the armour from the torso of the mech, digs into the machinery beneath, until she feels the hard metal of the cockpit. She pushes again. The screaming metal is muffled by the surging water that sloshes about the two of them as they grapple. The officer presses his pistol into Mudskipperâs waist, fires, sending armour-piercing rounds slicing up through the internals of Kayaâs mech.
A blast of bubbles and fire blurred by the brown-green swamp water, and the officers machine falls silent. Mudskipper rises, leaking coolant and oil from the horrid wounds at its waist. Victorious.
>> Hostiles attacked me. All eliminated. Heavy damage sustained. Require assistance.
She waits. She is trained to be patient after all.
>> Confirm. Dispatching recovery team. Remain in position.
Kaya cannot sink back into the deep muck she has been sheltering in for the last four months â the damage to Mudskipperâs torso is too severe. So she finds solid ground and hunches down to wait for the recovery team. It will be two days before they reach her. But she is patient. She can wait.
