this is super hot, but honestly, it gets me thinking. there’d probably be small organisations and community groups that spring up to prevent these retired mech pilots from being abused and help them reintegrate into society.
cus yeah, you would be extremely vulnerable to things like abusive relationships and drug abuse sex trafficking and homelessness and financial scams. you’ve been completely deprived of social skills, support networks, and adult skills. and of course had your brain absolutely zapped.
once you get bussed back into the city, you don’t get dumped not at some vacant street corner like they used to, but at the doorsteps of a dusty little building, and welcomed inside. you’ll be boarding here for the next few days, but it’s not some trap to swindle you. it’s just a temporary place to stay while they find you a nice apartment.
you see, mech pilots get a pretty amazing government pension. but you’ve never used a credit card before and most of your old identifying documents are classified. pilots usually need some help with accessing it and getting themselves off the ground.
but all of that stuff is pretty overwhelming to a fresh-off-the-presses living weapon. the real boon of this place is the community meetups. lots of other pilots, new and old, come here to socialise and support and supervise and mentor. it’s almost a bustling hub of jumpy little miscreants. there’s a lot of focus on drug safety here, overdose is the leading cause of mech pilot death.
you sit through it, mostly zoning in and out - you just sorta wandered in here cus navigating a building that isn’t base is still a bit alien. but afterwards at the snack table a few other pilots come up to you and introduce themselves. the way your voice quivers and your hands shake makes it obvious to them you’re newly retired. how come you haven’t been given a guardian? yeah this place blows, super underfunded, they chuckle to themselves. don’t worry, we’ll take you under our wing.
so you hang out with this group for the rest of the day, mostly just following them from activity room to activity room. but they’re nice. they pull back your attention when you get caught staring at a screen, and they calm you down with gentle touches when your hands start shaking too much to use them. you’re pretty quite, but it’s nice to watch people talk and laugh. it’s a new experience, mundane carefree conversations.
as sunset ends they suggest we go out for a bite to eat. and as the most recent command, you oblige. you can only order a kids meal, lest you throw it all back up, but it’s delicious. you try to thank them like a rookie thanking superior for new instructions, but they just laugh and ruffle your hair.
hey! one of them says. you know what this kid needs ? to smoke some fucking pot. you don’t really know what that means but soon you’re back at one of their places, just hanging out on their couches. it’s real chill, no one’s forcing you to smoke, letting you choose. it’s tricky but eventually you make a decision, everyone else is doing it after all.
it’s really nice, your hands nearly completely stop shaking and your mind isn’t so … spikey. you don’t really talk, just laying there while some inane show plays on the tv and the others laugh and giggle and talk.
eventually you fall asleep, snuggling w another one of the pilots. it’s not lewd or anything, it’s just comfy. to have that soft physical touch with someone and know that nothing bad will happen because of it.
while you sleep, two of the older pilots talk out on the balcony, sharing a smoke.
poor kid, they really did a number on her.
she’s really damaged, she’s got nerve damage for sure.
she’ll need a lot if help learning how to be human.
you know what i mean, she can’t even go in public alone yet. gonna need a lot of reinforcement to learn she’s her own self with wants and needs and value.
she’s a good kid is all i’m saying - i want her to be happy. she deserves to carve out a space for herself in this world - her own place
you say that for all of them.