Iron Empire

Eighteen: Oscar Kilo

 "You've got to be kidding me."

I stared up in horror at the mech before me.

Daylight shone through the glass dome high above, tinted grey by the cloudy Atlantic weather. In the trench far below, the choppy, gunmetal grey sea mirrored the colourless sky. Light bounced off the mech that hung before me, the replacement for my Prowler.

A Crusader. I threw up my hands in disbelief.

The mech was the smallest of the two British models. Like the Crusader used by Martin, the mech's frame resembled the armour of a knight, titanium plating spreading upward into a squat cockpit and broad, sloping shoulders.

The entire mech seemed hunched forward and unbalanced, protected only by the thick lead shield it held in front of it. Upon closer inspection, the shield hung on a track attached to the mech's right shoulder and could slide in and out of position at will to allow for mobility and adaptability.

My concern was that this shield was the mech's only defence mechanism. Without its shield, the Crusader was exposed. Vulnerable.

When Martin had piloted the Crusader in Moscow he'd made it look impressive, but I had major doubts that I could properly utilize the mech's finicky shield system in a battle.

I had been unsuccessful in discovering my new mech last night, so I'd gone to bed annoyed. Waking up early had worsened the mood and the reveal of my new mech was just the icing on the terrible cake.

I knew that being upset over a mech was childish, but using the Prowler in battle had been the most exhilarating experience I'd had since entering the Iron War. However, I knew that I was going to have to accept what I could get for now. Times were tough.

We were all gathered together in the hangar bay, standing under the ladder system that led up to our dropships.

Many mech pilots weren't quite awake. Even Commander Telbus stifled a yawn with his prosthetic hand as he strode toward us, Taewi in tow.

Lucas, however, looked chipper and alert. I supposed a dropship pilot was used to flying long distances and remaining awake.

As I watched, my Crusader was hoisted into Dropship 13 via its mechanical arms, and the ship's gaping mouth of a door closed.

Lucas patted me on the back.

"That's my cue. See you shortly."

He strode over to the edge of the platform, grabbed onto the ladder and climbed up to the catwalk, striding away towards the dropship.

That left me alone to deal with—

"Alright, pilots!" Taewi brayed. His voice was like a hammer to my head. "We head out in one-five minutes on a course for Italy, do you copy? I want everyone bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as we ship out, oscar kilo?"

Nobody moved.

"Oscar kilo?" Taewi repeated, quickly losing steam. "It means okay."

Martin Telbus stepped in front of Taewi with a sigh. He shrugged at us, then translated.

"Sorry folks, Commander Park here had a little too much coffee with his rations this morning."

The comment elicited a chuckle or two from the tired crowd. Martin held up a hand to silence us, then continued.

"We're in the air in fifteen minutes. Wake yourselves up now or I'll instruct your dropship pilots to send you for a skydive. I'm kidding, of course, but we need you alert for the airdrop to make sure everything goes smoothly."