Fire at Will [Mech Sci-Fi Military]

FAMILY WORRIES

The mercenary camp buzzed with activity as the deadline for the attack loomed. Weapons, ammunition, and supplies were hauled into the attack trucks. Preparing an ambush deep in enemy territory was a delicate operation, one that demanded caution—but with time running out, the mercs worked with hurried efficiency.

Will grunted as he hefted a heavy box of ammo into the back of a truck. Around him, soldiers barked orders, waved each other toward their assigned positions, and moved with the urgency of people who knew exactly how little time they had left. Stepping aside to grab another box, Will froze as his slate chirped—a connection to the network at last.

He waved to the shift operator, stepped further out of the way, and pulled the device from his pocket. Fingers trembling, he scrolled through his contacts and placed a call. Taking a steadying breath, he waited, the ringing in his ears stretching each second. Then—

"Hello?"

"Mom!" Will exhaled, relief flooding his voice.

"Thank goodness," Mrs. Dunn's voice crackled through the connection. "I've been trying to reach you all day."

Her words dissolved into static.

"Mom? Can you hear me?" Will raised his voice, pacing a few steps to find a better signal.

"Oh, Lord, this reception… I can barely hear you." The buzz and hiss of interference nearly swallowed her next words. "How are you? Are you still at Remy's?"

"Yes," Will replied, straining to catch her voice.

"Good, good." She exhaled with relief. "It's better that you're up the Tower and away from all this nonsense."

Will let out the breath he had been holding. The unrest in the Undercity had only grown worse since he left, and his family—along with the rest of Belgrave—had gone into lockdown. His sister must have gone stir-crazy by now.

"How's Ellie taking all this?" he asked.

His mother gave a weary laugh. "Oh, you know her. I've lost count of the times she's tried to sneak out of the complex. She's been giving the guards a terrible time. Not a day goes by she doesn't ask about you."

A tightening gripped Will's chest. The last time he had left Ellie, she had been just as distraught. He remembered her words as clearly as if she stood before him:

You're never home. And now you're going away again.

The memory stung, just as it had the first time.

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"Mom, I—" Will began.

"Honey," she interrupted gently, already knowing what he was about to say. "Stop worrying about everyone else. Ellie will be fine. I'm fine. What you should focus on is your exam. The O.A.T.s are right around the corner."

The reminder hit him like a slap. With all the chaos, he had nearly forgotten about the exams. Counting the days in his head, his stomach dropped as he realized the O.A.T.s fell on the same day as the General Assembly.

"Right. Yeah." He rubbed his face, forcing calm into his voice. As if things couldn't get any more hectic.

"Prepare for the exam and don't worry about us. We'll be fine here in Belgrave."

"Mom… about Belgrave." Will hesitated, searching for the words. "Maybe it's better if you moved."

The Revenant base was too close to their home for comfort. The fighting could spill over, and he hated the thought of them being caught in it. He braced for her resistance, but to his surprise, there was none.

"Oh, so you've heard," she said instead. "There has been a lot of talk about that here in the colony."

Will froze. "What?"

"They say there's a gas leak in the complex, and the Belgrave guard are planning to move the residents if the situation gets out of hand."

"When did this happen?" Will's mind whirled. Damian had said he'd handle it, but Will hadn't thought he meant relocating the entire colony.

"The guard captain alerted the colony heads just yesterday," she explained.

Will straightened. "Have they found the source of the leak?"

"No. There's been talk of evacuation, but they can't just expect us to uproot our lives overnight."

"Mom—" Will tried.

"Just the perfect setup for getting robbed," she huffed. "I mean—"

"Mom, maybe it's for the best."

"Oh, not you too."

"The guard captain wouldn't declare an emergency without reason."

"Oh, pshua."

"Mom, please."

A long sigh filtered through the static. "Fine, fine. We'll do it your way."

The line crackled again, breaking her next words into garbled fragments.

"Looks like the connection's going bad again," she said through the buzz.

"I'll call again," Will shouted into the haze, "when the line is clear!"

"Of course, hon." She sighed. "Love you. Stay safe."

"You too, Mom."

With a final crackle, the line went dead.

Will let out a breath and stuffed the slate back into his pocket. The clamor of work surged around him—the scrape of crates, the clatter of munitions, the barked orders cutting through the din. Shaking himself, he rushed to rejoin the crew.

The hours bled together in a haze of labor. When the last of the loading was done, he slipped back into the workshop to repair his mech.

The first priority was the armor. He set about replacing the dented plates, peeling away the old metal scarred from his last battle. Bullet fragments had scorched the surface, and his fingers found sections pierced clean through, dangerously close to failure.

As he worked, he caught sight of a dark red smear along one plate. His hand brushed it without thinking, and the brittle stain crumbled into crimson dust across his fingertips.

Will froze.

Blood.

He remembered the splatter of red, the metallic tang coating his tongue. Yet what lingered most wasn't the taste or the sight, but the smell—the iron bite that misted through the air.

His pulse quickened, and he fought to steady himself. Shifting his gaze from the plates, his eyes settled on the mech's internals. He needed a better filter. If the stench of blood could get through, then anything else could as well. An internal air supply—something that could last a few minutes—might give him a fighting chance. Yes, that would work.

Will bent to the task. Fixing, adjusting, replacing. The world outside dulled into background murmur, then into silence altogether. Time slipped past unnoticed. By the time he tightened the last bolt and stepped back, the bustle of the mercs was gone. Most of the trucks had rolled out, and the Tower's night cycle cast a pale, artificial dusk over the yard.

As Will stood admiring the mech, footsteps sounded behind him and a hand clasped his shoulder.