Inside the semi-underground NC facility's command room, a small group of people were asking a single woman questions.
"So... you're the one that was pointed to us, miss? Very interesting profile, you have.”, a middle-aged woman , obviously the boss asked. ‘Sophia’, the ‘commanding officer’ of New Anchorage’s NC operation.
“Stein.” The blonde-haired girl replied to the first portion of Sophia’s dialogue, as if interjecting in a “This is my name, by the way.” manner.
“Is it?” The reply was blank, almost robotic as the blonde-haired girl looked toward this… ‘commanding officer’ of this backwater outpost as she mentioned Stein’s profile despite the fact that such a profile “officially didn’t exist anymore” and she only had a fringe reputation from her enemies and rivals now. The former Volkov soldier wasn’t sure if she should’ve been thankful for her situation here in New Anchorage, but it was partially true that without them she’d be still working on repairs of her NC after the battle she faced with her… former comrade.
”I apologize for your situation. Must’ve been difficult having to handle. In any case, let’s get down to the thick of it; Our terms are that you officially join our organization as an NC pilot, and in return, we’ll give you a place to stay, compatriots, and a mission to do. You’ll be able to pick which specific missions you wish to partake in, and we’ll give you a very fair cut of each contract's’ award."
“That sounds agreeable, but given my situation I don’t have a lot of alternatives.” Stein looked down to the ground for a minute, thinking over if she should outright thank them for what they did or not. Formalities were something she was barely used to; at least beyond the typical “Affirmative, sir.” and “Negative, sir.” machinations that had been a part of her life for the greater part of a decade.
“I owe you a degree of debt for your help, so it makes sense that I accept.”
”Yes, it only makes sense. Well, we aren’t the type to make you sign a formal written agreement or any of that crap, so… welcome aboard. We have a transport with your most direct allies already headed for us, they should arrive very shortly., Sophia quickly explained. She easily wasn’t one to linger too much. ”I suggest you head out and let my assistant here show you how everything works. Matthew?”
“Yes ma’am, affirmative. Ms. Stein, please follow me. I’ll show you around and introduce you to your team-members when they arrive. As stated, we’ll give you your own residence on-site and explain how things will work. Please follow me to the briefing area.”
“Lead the way.”
The two went away from the command room, and down the hall connecting it to a small hub area. Matt turned left, and into a door labelled ‘Pilot Briefing Area’, opening it to a decently spaced , well-lit room with a seven-seat square table in the middle. On the opposite wall of the door was a large projector screen , currently showing a generic outline of New Anchorage itself, with areas labelled with what they were.
It soon came apparent, the speed and efficiency of Matthew’s tongue was particularly impressive. In seconds, “We have it defaulted to New Anchorage so it’s very quick to give the details when it’s… under siege. Again. We have seven seats, five for you NC pilots and two for your transport team. Bill and Alexandria, very skilled helicopter pilots and drivers. Obviously, here you’ll see what missions are available and the details of each, such as enemy types, suspected ‘hiccups’ and repair cost allowances. If we detect your NC has reached a certain ‘limit’, we’ll take you out of the combat zone.”
He continued after exhaling, then inhaling. Rapidly, “We’ll also give you documents on ‘larger’, multi-deployment missions if necessary, and, if enemy NC’s are a likely suspicion, we’ll additionally give you anything we have available, such as psychoanalysis files, history, notable events where they took part, et-cetera. If you’re unsure about anything in the mission and require more in-depth information, the Captain will likely give you anything she personally knows of, and we can produce any related files.”
“I see. I will have to adjust accordingly.”
“Would you like to see the NC Hangar or on-site residential area next?”, Matthew then inquired. It was amazing how fast this fellow could speak.
“I would like to see where my NC has been moved, I need to run diagnostics on your repairs of my systems; to see if they were adequate.” Stein seemed particularly unfazed by Matthew’s quickness in conversation, apparently more concerned with her NC in particular. Though after the damage she had and not completely understanding the skill level of this operation led by Sophia it seemed like a sensible decision.
“Very well.”, with her answer, Sophia’s assistant then led her through a winding path through a series of hallways, into one of the few steel security doors. He input a card into a slot, then retrieved it as the door opened. The two went into the massive room, where five large doors on the ceiling, with NC-sized elevating pads, and the NC’s on them were located. Technicians could be seen working on each NC, the most situated on the fifth, the heavily beaten up ‘Little Dragon’ The first was a solid white, winged machine that was obviously a jet with legs if anything. The second was a walking tank with a huge reserve of visible missiles, the third a simple machine with a rifle and a strange shield contraption, and the fourth had hussarian wings on its’ shoulders, that on closer inspection were mounting points for two large autocannons. It didn’t hurt that the thin machine appeared to have a large energy weapon in its’ hands.
“What experience do the other NC pilots have?” The question was delivered like a statement; the idle inquiry occurring as her eyes glossed over the multitude of NC’s before them.
Pointing to each pilots’ respective Neural Combatants, “Joe Verona was a skilled machinist before joining up and is now an electronic warfare and missile-based munitions specialist who can think quite quickly on his feet. Elizabeth Jackspar is a highly skilled close combat specialist with good reaction time and Synchronization ratio, and is adept at evading most enemy attacks. Percy Moore is… the weakest link, but is very determined due to personal reasons for joining. Jan Van Gent is a mercenary who Volkov sent to assist our efforts. He appears to be very loyal and is a good front line fighter.”
“So only one of them has military experience or records? What is the accumulated time in-machine?” Stein’s tone shifted to one of disappointment as she picked up on some of the information this assistant was telling her. A machinist?— was Sophia absolutely insane putting people like that on the line?
“...I believe it’s close to sixty-to-eighty for Verona, Jackspar, and Moore, and closer to seven-hundred for Jan Van Gent?”
The blonde-haired pilot raised a brow, “Sixty-to-Eighty days or hours?”
“Hours.”
A somewhat awkward silence ensued.
”I have no words for….” Stein paused for a second, “...how long do you expect Van Gent to carry them?”
“Carry them? They may not have many hours in the seat, but they took on three Denver-Vegas ultra-heavy assault vehicles with minimal resulting damage and support. That definitely isn’t bad at all for people with so little experience. Not to mention actually winning against a duo of ace NC pilots, first mission. Of course, they were likely out of their element...”
”Your attempts at convincing me of their talent is admirable, but you must admit…. it sounds poor from a trained perspective.”
“Oh, it does. Natural talent can only do so much of course. I have faith in them, personally. Lady Luck blessed them plenty in my opinion”
”I don’t believe in superstitious folklore.” She stated as she walked forward towards the Little Dragon. She withdrew a toolkit from her belt as she began to run basic exterior diagnostics. As she did so she began to wonder the odds of survival with such a group; especially if they depended on a thing as ‘luck’. Stein was taught to only believe statistics as matters such as faith and hope were crutches only the weak relied on.
“When will they arrive?—or are they here already?”
“Approximately 1 hour and 45 minutes.”
“Good, that is ample time for me to revise your repairs on my machine and help your engineering staff bring it to combat condition.”
“Very well, best of luck. Your private dormitory space is located down the hall, first right, then the fifth left.”
“Noted.”
“If you have any more questions, I’ll be in the briefing room preparing a contract presentation.”
