1.2
Whether it was from blood loss or battle fatigue, Logan was asleep inside his mech until Vic had docked it inside Logan’s ship Fenris. His eyes slowly opened to the sound of the locking mechanisms engaging, holding Crusader upright and stationary as a walkway whirred to life, expanding its length until it connected to the mech's waist just under the backplate of the cockpit. He looked around, slowly becoming more lucid as he took in his surroundings. The docking bay was large and brightly lit by fluorescent lamps hanging from the ceiling. Across the way, a large screen bolted to the wall sprang to life, displaying the local time-zone, as well as the topography of the land below, being scanned from the ship’s sensors from low orbit.
Suddenly, his vision distorted, crackling and turning hazy as if looking at a broken datapad, before going completely black. He winced and blinked away the darkness until his eyes adjusted and he found himself staring at a dull metal slab; the sides lined with rivets and dented from years of abuse, the true view from where Logan hung suspended in his cockpit harness. He felt a painful click, before watching the ocular uplink cable retract up into Crusaders headpiece, snaking its way through the environment until wrapped around a large metal spool.
A hiss of pressurized air came directly behind him, and Logan closed his eyes tight, gritting his teeth as the mech’s back plate rose, segmented plates sliding up and nesting inside the ones above them. Then the pain started. A shrill whine filled the air as his uplink spikes unscrewed themselves from his Pilot threads. His body twisted and lurched as the uplink frame forcibly removed its spikes from Logan’s body, giving no reprieve, merely increasing the force it applied whenever a screw was hung or stuck until all fifteen spikes were removed from his arms, legs, and spine.
Logan gasped, his breath coming in short bursts as he sucked down air. His body shook from both shock and pain while he fought to gain his bearings. He hated this part. The uplink and de-link processes were necessary of course, but necessary didn’t mean it had to feel like his skin was on fire every time he entered the cockpit. It never got easier either, he just grew accustomed to the pain.
Logan exhaled slowly, getting his bearings before he reached back and gripped a handle, pushing off of the pegs that held his feet, and slowly turned himself around, before stepping out onto the grated platform, successfully extricating himself from his Crusader. His vision swam and blurred as he stepped into the bright light of the hanger bay. A side effect of an extended deployment. Aurora should have known better though. He must have been gone a few days at least.
“Aurora!” He called out, yelling to be heard over the industrial sounds of repair and maintenance. “Dim the lights already, dammit I can’t see!”
“Sorry!” A distant, sing-song voice replied. Within a few moments the brightness of the bay dropped to manageable levels and Logan was able to blink away the stars that floated in his periphery. As he did, he saw Aurora walking towards him, wrench in hand, a goofy smile plastered on her face.
She was young for an A.R.M.S. mechanic, her face still radiant and full of excitement, with features that seemed to contrast one another. She had bright blue hair, tied back into a ponytail and her eyes were a dull brown, framed behind a set of thick glasses that made her look slightly bug eyed when she wore them, which she rarely did. Her nose was thin and came to a prominent point, while her chubby cheeks, still clinging to some baby fat, accentuated her youthful appearance. All in all, she could have passed for a girl of around nineteen or twenty, instead of her actual age of twenty-five. Her maturity or lack thereof didn’t help her in this department either much to her employers irritation. It seemed to Logan that if she wasn’t busy here, she’d keep herself entertained by making Logan’s life a living hell. Still, she was the best mechanic this side of the sector, and she worked cheap. That went a long way in Logan’s book.
“Good to have ya back boss,” She said, eyeing him up and down before looking past him to where Crusader stood. Logan watched her eyes light up as she no doubt saw the marks of battle that ran all over the mech’s frame. He turned to see what the damage and had to stifle a wince. Dents and slash mark ran the length of the mech, as some minor burns in a few places had turned the off white paint scheme into a charred black.
Logan shook his head and turned back to face her. “Brought you some work it seems. This should keep you busy till we reach the fleet don’t ya think?”
“Hell yeah! You can count on me boss, I’ll make her look good as new!” She said, her thick twangy accent taking over, a by-product of her homeworld of Merrin. She took a step, then stopped herself, a quizzical look taking over.
“What is it?” Logan asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at her.
She smacked her own head, making a face that said she had just remembered something important. “I almost forgot!” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a datapad, swiping through with her thumb until she found what she’d been looking for. “Message came for you over the net a day or two ago. Used your Captain’s Code and everything so I figured it must have been important.”
Logan’s eyebrow raised higher as he approached her, and took the datapad from her hands, his eyes reading through the message quickly, growing wider as they did so.
“What’s wrong boss?” Aurora asked, her face tinged with concern and sounding far away. Logan ignored her, having to read through the message again, just to confirm who it was from.
“Logan,
It’s been a long time. I apologize for my lack of communication. You know how things are, we get busy and things tend to go by the wayside. Still, fifteen years is a long time, and you deserved better. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry again, that the reason I’m reaching out is that I need your help. It’s about Cameron. Things are changing around Ketris and I fear he’s not ready for the role he’s ascending too. But if anyone can straighten him out, I figure it’d be you. Please write back when you have the chance and I’ll explain more then.
Your Friend,
Augustus Pellyn”
Logan sat there for a long time, reading and rereading the message. Had it really been fifteen years? Time flies when you're having fun, but it must go faster when you’re fighting for your life, he supposed. Still, it was hard to believe that he’d receive any contact from people back home. Why him? Why now?
“Boss?” Aurora’s voice was meek and pensive, cutting across Logan’s thoughts like the sharpest blade. He shook his head to clear it and looked up at her. She was staring at him, worry plastered on her face, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder.
“You alright? What is it?”
Logan forced a smile, his mind running wild with thoughts of a life, long dead. Or so he had thought. Clearly, that wasn’t the case anymore.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just a job offer from some old friends.”
She blinked, some levity returning to her face. “Oh. Well… what do they want you to do?”
“Go home.”