- Joined
- Aug 1, 2018
- Messages
- 62
- Essence
- €11,054
- Coin
- ₡41,000
- Tokens
- 0
- World
- Cevanti
- Profile
- Click Here
Orion looked at the sign on the outer hanger wall. 12. This was the place.
It had been a few weeks since he had crash landed on this planet, which he learned was named Cevanti. He had spent what credits he could exchange on food and booze. When he wasn’t eating or drinking, he was resting; the battle aboard the starship and his subsequent arrival on Cevanti had drained him significantly.
However it was only a matter of time before his money dried up. Having recuperated but finding himself destitute, Orion searched for work. Many jobs advertised involved long treks into the planet’s uncharted wilderness, mostly as security detail, acting as a protector for a brave expedition hoping to stumble upon ancient artifacts and forgotten technology.
Other listings were as simple as a club bouncer. All were easily within a seasoned warrior’s capabilities, but the one that stood out from the rest involved piloting a mech. Why would he turn down an opportunity like that?
Still, though, it was work. Orion wanted to be free of the planet and search for Cabbis, if he had even survived the final battle. But it would take time, and purchasing a new starship would be costly. And this was the first rung on the ladder.
With a steeling sigh, the saiyan trudged inside.
Towering robots were lined against the walls, nestled within suspended catwalks that allowed the engineers to alter them and make any repairs. Bright white sparks flew from the flame of a welder as it impacted the metal shoulder of one of the mech units. A heavy truck with a giant leg tied to its trailer drove in and towards one of the robots still under construction, its chassis pressed low to the ground beneath the weight of the limb.
Orion headed towards the office and knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
Pushing his way in, the saiyan stood before a man typing before a console, the monitor’s bright light washing over his face. He tapped a few more strokes on the keyboard, rose from his chair and offered his hand. “I take it you’re our new pilot.”
Orion shook the outstretched hand. “Orion. You must be Sergeant Masters.”
“You have completed basic training?”
Orion nodded.
“Well, let’s not waste any time,” Masters said, rounding his desk. “We’re both busy men. Please, follow me.”
The sergeant led the saiyan back out into the hangar, their footsteps clopping loudly on the floor. Through the huge space left by the open doors, rain fell in a drizzly curtain. Orion breathed deep – the smell calmed him, reminded him of better days. Masters stopped and turned to the mech unit nearest the exit.
Like most of the giant pilotable robots in the hangar, this example wore its age and past experience on its sleeves. Instead of forearms, the robot had a shield welded to the left arm and a massive rifle attached to the right. Scuffs and scratches ran along the plating of its legs and shield predominantly, though most of the unit had some sort of lasting cosmetic damage. It cast a long, flickering shadow as sparks flew from a welder near the shoulder.
“This is your patrol unit,” Sergeant Masters said, motioning to the robot before them. “It’ll feel a little more sluggish than the training simulation implied. However, it’ll still do the job. There will be a path outlined for you in the HUD. Follow this path to its endpoint and return back, reporting any unusual sights or disturbances you encounter. You are permitted to engage with hostile droids but you cannot leave the designated perimeter. You do not have clearance to pursue an enemy outside of this. Do you understand?”
The saiyan warrior gazed up at the towering mech as the engineer extinguished the flame on his welder and moved on. “Yes.”
“All right then. You may ascend the stairs and begin your first patrol. Good luck, Orion.”
"Stairs aren't necessary," the saiyan said, lifting off the ground. Sergeant Masters stopped mid-stride, his head craning as the saiyan rose towards the mech’s head for a moment, then walked away.
The face of the robot split in the centre and each side retracted away, allowing Orion access to the cockpit. He glided into the empty space and touched down, picking up the two gloves on the floor. Pulling them on, he grabbed a similar pair of boots and stuffed his feet into them. These items would detect Orion’s movements and replicate them in the mech; making a fist with the right hand would also fire the plasma pulse cannon. He stood on a small, square treadmill tract that would give tactile feedback to Orion when walking on the ground – a small set of cameras constantly scanned the floor around the mech in all directions and imitated the texture to assist in movement.
“Activate.”
A faint shudder travelled through the cockpit. A projected screen dome pulsed to life around Orion, covering the entirety of the space around him as if he was outside the mech altogether.
“Show patrol route.”
A pale blue map etched over the forward facing segment of the screen dome, showing an overhead view with a red X on the building Orion was in. A red line snaked from the hangar and along the path he had been instructed to take. Orion swiped his hand in the air and it shifted the map to the right side of the dome, giving the saiyan clear sight forward again.
He took his first step since plugging in and the treadmill moved with him. In real time, the robot lifted its gargantuan leg and dropped its foot onto the hangar floor. The saiyan had to slow his movements, since such a giant couldn’t move as fast as he could.
He strode out of the hangar and into the light drizzle. Droplets of rain pattered into the vision hemisphere around Orion but they slid and faded into transparency swiftly – no doubt a feature required of the technology. The huge presence and heavy footfalls reminded Orion of his Great Ape transformation. It had been a while since he had experienced the heady rush of primal battle, towering over tiny foes and annihilating them with satisfying ease. He hoped the patrol would pit him against some wild zoids worthy of his skills.
Orion smirked as he strode away from the hangar and along the path provided for him. This was definitely better than being a club bouncer.
It had been a few weeks since he had crash landed on this planet, which he learned was named Cevanti. He had spent what credits he could exchange on food and booze. When he wasn’t eating or drinking, he was resting; the battle aboard the starship and his subsequent arrival on Cevanti had drained him significantly.
However it was only a matter of time before his money dried up. Having recuperated but finding himself destitute, Orion searched for work. Many jobs advertised involved long treks into the planet’s uncharted wilderness, mostly as security detail, acting as a protector for a brave expedition hoping to stumble upon ancient artifacts and forgotten technology.
Other listings were as simple as a club bouncer. All were easily within a seasoned warrior’s capabilities, but the one that stood out from the rest involved piloting a mech. Why would he turn down an opportunity like that?
Still, though, it was work. Orion wanted to be free of the planet and search for Cabbis, if he had even survived the final battle. But it would take time, and purchasing a new starship would be costly. And this was the first rung on the ladder.
With a steeling sigh, the saiyan trudged inside.
Towering robots were lined against the walls, nestled within suspended catwalks that allowed the engineers to alter them and make any repairs. Bright white sparks flew from the flame of a welder as it impacted the metal shoulder of one of the mech units. A heavy truck with a giant leg tied to its trailer drove in and towards one of the robots still under construction, its chassis pressed low to the ground beneath the weight of the limb.
Orion headed towards the office and knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
Pushing his way in, the saiyan stood before a man typing before a console, the monitor’s bright light washing over his face. He tapped a few more strokes on the keyboard, rose from his chair and offered his hand. “I take it you’re our new pilot.”
Orion shook the outstretched hand. “Orion. You must be Sergeant Masters.”
“You have completed basic training?”
Orion nodded.
“Well, let’s not waste any time,” Masters said, rounding his desk. “We’re both busy men. Please, follow me.”
The sergeant led the saiyan back out into the hangar, their footsteps clopping loudly on the floor. Through the huge space left by the open doors, rain fell in a drizzly curtain. Orion breathed deep – the smell calmed him, reminded him of better days. Masters stopped and turned to the mech unit nearest the exit.
Like most of the giant pilotable robots in the hangar, this example wore its age and past experience on its sleeves. Instead of forearms, the robot had a shield welded to the left arm and a massive rifle attached to the right. Scuffs and scratches ran along the plating of its legs and shield predominantly, though most of the unit had some sort of lasting cosmetic damage. It cast a long, flickering shadow as sparks flew from a welder near the shoulder.
“This is your patrol unit,” Sergeant Masters said, motioning to the robot before them. “It’ll feel a little more sluggish than the training simulation implied. However, it’ll still do the job. There will be a path outlined for you in the HUD. Follow this path to its endpoint and return back, reporting any unusual sights or disturbances you encounter. You are permitted to engage with hostile droids but you cannot leave the designated perimeter. You do not have clearance to pursue an enemy outside of this. Do you understand?”
The saiyan warrior gazed up at the towering mech as the engineer extinguished the flame on his welder and moved on. “Yes.”
“All right then. You may ascend the stairs and begin your first patrol. Good luck, Orion.”
"Stairs aren't necessary," the saiyan said, lifting off the ground. Sergeant Masters stopped mid-stride, his head craning as the saiyan rose towards the mech’s head for a moment, then walked away.
The face of the robot split in the centre and each side retracted away, allowing Orion access to the cockpit. He glided into the empty space and touched down, picking up the two gloves on the floor. Pulling them on, he grabbed a similar pair of boots and stuffed his feet into them. These items would detect Orion’s movements and replicate them in the mech; making a fist with the right hand would also fire the plasma pulse cannon. He stood on a small, square treadmill tract that would give tactile feedback to Orion when walking on the ground – a small set of cameras constantly scanned the floor around the mech in all directions and imitated the texture to assist in movement.
“Activate.”
A faint shudder travelled through the cockpit. A projected screen dome pulsed to life around Orion, covering the entirety of the space around him as if he was outside the mech altogether.
“Show patrol route.”
A pale blue map etched over the forward facing segment of the screen dome, showing an overhead view with a red X on the building Orion was in. A red line snaked from the hangar and along the path he had been instructed to take. Orion swiped his hand in the air and it shifted the map to the right side of the dome, giving the saiyan clear sight forward again.
He took his first step since plugging in and the treadmill moved with him. In real time, the robot lifted its gargantuan leg and dropped its foot onto the hangar floor. The saiyan had to slow his movements, since such a giant couldn’t move as fast as he could.
He strode out of the hangar and into the light drizzle. Droplets of rain pattered into the vision hemisphere around Orion but they slid and faded into transparency swiftly – no doubt a feature required of the technology. The huge presence and heavy footfalls reminded Orion of his Great Ape transformation. It had been a while since he had experienced the heady rush of primal battle, towering over tiny foes and annihilating them with satisfying ease. He hoped the patrol would pit him against some wild zoids worthy of his skills.
Orion smirked as he strode away from the hangar and along the path provided for him. This was definitely better than being a club bouncer.