How I Spent My Summer Pandemic

The weekend before restaurants closed in Philadelphia, I had skipped the subway and was walking to work, thinking about how things were going to be pretty weird for the next few... well weeks I thought. It was a rare moment in my life when I genuinely knew that what I needed was more distraction. I reached out to my DnD friends, looking to set up a play-by-post game for a steady drip of roleplaying in the coming chaos. It’d be too dramatic to say that it was a life-saver, but I’m in the mood to be too dramatic. We decided on a For the Queen game, and I was excited to give Z. W. Garth’s mecha melodrama Chasing the Ace a try. In two months of self-prescribed escapism, my friends and I collaborated on a 40,000 word story that still fills me with pride and gratitude to my wingmates. Today I want to share a small excerpt from the story we made together:

♥2 What was the moment you swore to follow the Ace?

In the early days, they moved me between a lot of units. I mean we weren't even squadrons yet, in those days the organization was a joke. We didn't have ASCOM online yet, and you know how I feel about ASCOM, but it's better than nothing. So they'd put me on with some fresh-greased Captain, have me run missions with the crew to make sure that their maneuvers were locked-in. A lot of these early flight school types could run formations, but they couldn't improvise. And in the heat of a conflict, with an actual creature you know, they'd stall or they'd freeze or they'd hook themselves into some obvious pattern that they probably thought was a signature or something but to the enemy, you know, that's just a beacon. So they'd send me in with all the new Captains, you know, each one trying to make sure that everyone knew who was the boss. They'd all been cadets together the week before, but now it was their chance to push each other around, work out old grudges. And it was my job to make sure that they didn't get themselves killed in the squabble. They'd call me the Merc. I don't know how the rumor got around, or if they're all just that damn original, but anyway they'd grin at eachother and make bets on who was going to get phased by the Merc. And I didn't know it then but I hated doing it. But you had to. Now I'm humble, I'm no cadet, I get that these kids were twice, three-times the pilot I am, but I am a good operator, and in those days, sorry Bird, but before the alliance I was the best operator. And we all know it now, but those kids had no clue that when you’re in a tangle you can't just rely on jetwork. So my script was to hold back in the Lithobat and watch the reads on the other Echions, track the adaptive systems, and when one of those stunt-runts missed that their elecrowhip was about to overcharge and that they'd taken three teeth to the deltoid already, I had the override codes to activate whatever reflex weapon they'd overlooked and shunt out the pilot's directives. Phased by the Merc. A flurry of shame and survival. And next mission a brand new crew. Learning the same old lesson. Until you know who. 

Riza was on that mission and Danika too, but you won't be able to guess which one got phased. The run was typical, Nephilim hornets had seized a fuel pod outside Ber Lance and were already syphoning it away. Standard level 1 protocol says short range engagement, controlled spill off fuel pod to distract the hornets then dash out with the rest of the pod. The Ace, of course, had a different plan. 

First contact was smooth, I was prepared to bail these folks out early, but they didn't need me yet. The sync was good, they knew what they were doing with the Echion, but there was a different problem. The mission was running too long and the Ace wouldn't advance the script. The pilots would all fight their way to the inside, and instead of opening up the fuel pod, they'd run a coordinated sweep back to the outside. I couldn't make sense of it. One, because there was nothing I could do, I mean I had the script right there in front of me, but I'm the engineer, I've got no mission priority, no authorization. And two, because I'd never seen such a fresh crew run so tight to the Captain's lead. No showboats, no one trying to take the reins. Everyone just sticking to scene 1 over and over again, while the hornets work into a frenzy. Suddenly there was a break, the Ace pulled out of a turn too short and caught the fanged saw of one of the hornets right under the arm of their Echion. I watched the adaptive systems fire up as the Ace brought their hookdrill up under the single eye of the hornet. With their other limb they shot out flares to aid the pilots on either flank, and the hookdrill kept the first beast from escaping but the fangs kept biting in. It was abnormal for me to phase a Captain if I could avoid it, but the Ace had a rib shield ready to deploy and they were preoccupied with the interference blasts. I snapped in my directive, but instead of the sound of fangs on shield I heard the Ace's voice over my comms "It looks like someone scrambled your overrides, guess it’s time to stop pretending you’re not a pilot. Fire up that bullfrog and get this thing off me." By the time I found myself in the fray, the Ace's Echion had begun to lose fuel. Instead of pulling off the fuel pod, they'd used the Echion's reserve, which meant that the hornets would only be able to sniff back to the Ace and the poor outpost that held the pod would stay safe. That had been the plan all along. I still have no idea how the Ace jammed my override codes, but the second we got back to base I turned in my engineer creds and told Pyraemon that they'd have to find another Merc.