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Private/Closed Eden.

From his place at the head office of CAMP, Mark Stirling had a fantastic view of the latest set of pilots as they and their mechs arrived. Six separate dropships bearing the logos of their respective companies could be seen docking in the landing bay, their thrusters blasting clouds of dust off the ground as the unloaded their precious payloads. Several armed guards emerged from the complex, forming a rather serious looking welcome party. Stirling made note of which companies had made the cut this time. A few he recognised, Garland industries, Apollo Heuro Tanks and Crusader technology limited were all here, the names of which he recognized. That was a promising start, these days Aikvo’s government had been forced to take on many less experienced pilots, many of which simply aren’t up to scratch.

A mighty sigh escaped the pilot’s lips as he swiveled his chair away from the window, directing his gaze back to the massive pile of paperwork he had been filling in all morning. War was tough and all but he preferred gun fire to this boring business crap any day. The sheer amount of emails he had to answer just to get the bloody sparring arena fixed was driving him insane, the amount he would have to answer if one of these numb nuts died…well he would rather die himself. A chime from an ancient clock sitting in the corner of the room was a dull reminder that he should really get ready to go greet the newbies, the team would be expecting him to make an appearance.



The sound of Fletcher’s heart beating incredibly fast was amplified massively by the almost empty metal room he was sitting in. The hanger was incredibly large, the ceiling was so high that even the largest of mechs would be able to stand up in here with no problem. But that was the point after all. The only movement came from various androids wearing high Vis jackets who were shifting crates of various ammunitions and ballistics around the place. Not just human sized munitions either, it was with mild amusement that Fletcher watched one unlucky android struggle to lift a huge sniper round almost the same size as itself.

Where are they Fletch? You told me we wouldn’t be the only ones.” Came the soothing sound of X’s Russian accent as the pyromaniac mech came to life, the various lights that adored her chassis glowing now that she had reactivated.

“Cool your jets there girl, they’ll get here. They wouldn’t let us fight this war on our own you know.” Fletcher smirked, slapping the metal shoulder guard of his companion. From his perch on her arm he had a fantastic view as the rest of the pilots and their mechs began to arrive.

(@Ry_Burst @MegaAbsol @Keybored , sorry if this is pretty crappy but I'm still kinda dead XD)
 
The interior of the dropship was dead-silent, unless you counted the sound of gears turning within Angelina’s head. Even now, moment away from landing and confronting whoever, or whatever, was waiting on the other side of the large metal hatch she still couldn’t quite piece together why she had been chosen for this task. Well, she could, but it all felt so unlikely. Unreal even. She wasn’t trained for this. Even if she was the ‘most suitable’ person for the job, she wasn’t much more than your average, albeit somewhat athletic, citizen.

The sound of releasing pressured air indicated the hydraulics in the dropship’s hatch were activating, which by extend meant it was time for Angelina to compose herself and face this new ‘challenge’ head-on. With the loud clang of metal hitting metal, the hatch came to a stop and Angelina stood up from her seat. Walking out into the absolutely massive hanger she couldn’t help but feel at least a little impressed. It wasn’t like she was expecting anything different, but the craftsmanship necessary to build up a place like this still left her speechless.

Her moment of silence was broken by the sound of footsteps. Large, metallic footsteps belonging to a mech. Angelina looked over her shoulder and smirked somewhat. “How was the cargo hold?”

Efficient.” The mechanical response was short, blunt and exactly what Angelina had come to expect from her ‘partner’.

“Good to know, I’ll have to try it sometime then.”

You say that, but the probability of occurrence is low.

“Can’t argue with that.” Angelina stretched out with a long satisfied groan. Traveling to this place had taking its toll on her muscles and she was eager to get a move on, stretch her legs. “Well, let’s go see the other cannon fodder. That’s what we’re here for right?” With that she stepped out further into the hanger, a satisfied smirk on her face as she looked around. Searching for something to catch her eye.
 
Nyx broke the chocolate wafer in two as she rocked in rhythm to her mech's footsteps. Being nearly 40 feet off the ground had its advantages, and as Beast carefully maneuvered its hulking vessel towards their new goal - a cute little meeting place for other pilots. Pff! - she had a rather nice view of the whole place. It was an impressive place, to be sure, but the female was preoccupied with other thoughts. The information provided to her had been minimal, much to her chagrin, and besides vaguely knowing what she- they were here for, she wasn't aware of much else. It killed her to not know, and the human restlessly tapped a rapid tattoo, an idle portrayal of nervousness Beast didn't fail to pick up.

"You seem concerned," The A.I. noted, his voice husky and familiar. Nyx smiled involuntarily, breaking out a new packet of mini marshmallows. The machine's slow, heavy footsteps meant she only had to brace occasionally to avoid spilling anything. Bottles of cooling liquid sloshed about in protest every time the metallic monster took too unsteady a step - courtesy of the androids milling around - and as Nyx popped a couple of the sweets into her mouth, she could feel the beginnings of a headache come along. "You know me, B," She said dryly, knocking on the metal interior once with her knuckles, "I think too much; not to mention we're here to work with other pilots. A team," The word rolled off her tongue like venom, and she shuddered slightly.

"Said pilots will be specially trained. Elite. You could learn something from them," Her partner replied, and Nyx rolled her eyes. "Yeah, no, open the hatch. I need some air." The mech stopped, internal workings whirring in a moment of hesitation before the hatch opened with a pneumatic hiss. Nyx was quick to clamber out agilely, climbing to rest on the mech's shoulder, punctuated only by a single, concerned "Nyx," from her companion. The human swallowed once, swiping her palate for the last vestiges of the sweet treat as she eyed the large drop to the ground, before settling in, leaning back against the heavily armoured shoulder-guard, breathing deeply. Beast said nothing as she sat like that for a few minutes, watching the androids go about their work - busy, just like she should be. When she finally began to slide back towards the cockpit, the mech hummed to life again, bathing the inside with the soft glow of lights. "We'll be late if we wait any longer. Are you ready to go?" The unit asked, and Nyx paused, before chewing another marshmallow and nodding. The heavyset mech began moving again, and she knew Beast was monitoring her staccato heartbeat as she leaned back back into her seat, closing her eyes and stepping into her new madness.
 
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