Fire at Will [Mech Sci-Fi Military]

BATTLE READY

Will spun around, startled, and found Remy grinning at him.

"Damn," Will cursed, looking half annoyed at the redhead.

"Don't look so spooked," Remy said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You got the mechs patched up?"

"They just need the finishing touches," Will replied, wiping the grease from his fingers. "I've been working on the legs."

Remy squinted at the mech's ankles. A pair of retractable wheels were attached to the feet, and with a word of command from Will, the rollers deployed from their housings, locking into position with a satisfying clang.

"Woah," Remy breathed.

"We're going to need some speed in this urban environment," said Will. "Might give us an edge."

"Nice," said Remy, nodding in appreciation.

Will signaled again, and the mech rolled back on its servos toward the hangar, halting beside two others—Remy's angular machine and Becca's agile, nimble rig.

Footsteps echoed behind them, and Will spotted Becca making her way across the warehouse floor.

Remy flourished a hand toward the row of mechs. "Your chariot awaits, Princess."

Shooting him a dirty look, Becca came to a stop beside them. "Are they ready?"

Will nodded. "I just finished attaching the wheels. Also tweaked the filtration system. Now you've got a few minutes of internal air supply if the air is toxic."

He brought out his slate and gave a rundown of the mechanics. After reeling off the adjustments and final checks, Becca nodded, satisfied. The machines were battle-ready.

A small smile played on her lips—and then she burst out laughing.

Remy and Will glanced at her in bewilderment as her mirth grew a little hysterical. Seeing their confused looks, she shook her head, trying to speak between gasps.

"Just thinking how dead set I was on getting our project done. It was all I could think about. And now... the only thing left is giving a final report on the mechs undergoing some stress tests."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"With all the fighting we've been doing, I guess we have ample data," Remy mused.

"Yeah," said Becca, wiping her eyes.

"Hard to believe it's been only four months," said Will quietly.

"We've come a long way," finished Remy.

The three of them stared at the mechs, their shadows long under the dim hangar lights. The silence stretched, the weight of what was coming pressing in on them, heavy and solid.

"So. Tomorrow, huh?" Remy said simply.

"Yeah," said Will.

Becca's eyes lingered on her mech. "Do you think we're ready?"

"As ready as we'll ever be." Will's voice was steady.

"The fighting's going to be rough," Remy muttered.

Will exhaled. "Yeah, I know." His gaze lingered on the row of mechs before drifting away. "I called my mom earlier. They're preparing to evacuate Belgrave."

"The entire colony?" asked Becca.

"Yeah. The Belgrave Guard is saying there's a 'gas leak,'" said Will.

"I suppose that reason's as good as any," said Remy.

"It'll stop people from panicking," said Becca with a shrug.

"Really?" Will gave a bitter laugh. "I'm panicking already."

Remy rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful. "If they began pulling people out, it would raise alarm. This has to be low-key."

"I know." Will rubbed his face, weariness creeping into his voice.

Becca studied him. "You tried calling Damian?"

Will shook his head. "He's busy."

"So are the rest of the Geckos," Remy added. "They're in talks with the Belgrave Guard."

Will's head lifted, eyes narrowing.

"I was there, in CC, and heard people talking," Remy went on. "It's not just evacuation. Belgrave's throwing in their lot with us. Full support."

"That's great!" Becca exclaimed.

Will, however, was still tense. "How much did they tell them?"

"They don't have to tell them much." Remy shrugged. "Just the location of the Revan—sorry, the Hand's base—would be enough. You know the Guard. They'd be chomping at the bit to get to them."

Will nodded slowly. It made sense. The Guard had been spread thin, their energy spent trying to hold the line while unrest grew outside the colony walls. If someone offered them a chance to take the fight forward—to hit the Hand instead of waiting for the next blow—they'd seize it without hesitation.

A soft buzz broke the quiet of the workshop, and Becca went on alert.

"That's me," she said, fishing out her slate.

"More work?" asked Remy as her eyes darted through the text.

"Lawson wants me to check the patrol routes." She shot them a flat look before sighing. "Got to go."

She gave them a half-wave before jogging out of the workshop.

"They grow up so fast, don't they," Remy said, amused. He turned to Will. "What about you?"

Will exhaled, returning his attention to the mechs. "They still need some finishing touches."

"Alright," said Remy, holding his hand out for the datapad. "I'll check the calibrations."

Will passed him his slate without argument, and Remy made his way to the mechs, connecting to the main processor.

Will didn't move. For a moment, he stood apart, watching the three mechs paraded in front of him. A crimson smear flashed before his eyes and he saw Bishop's Spider Mech.

The web-walker vanished just as quickly as it came, and Will clenched his fist until his knuckles burned. Something heavy and certain pressed down on him, and he had to steel his resolve. Whatever doubts gnawed at him had no place here. Not now.

Will stepped forward, jaw set, and joined Remy by the machines, ready to wrench, solder, and hammer the final pieces into place.

The final hour was at hand.