Post by ender on Dec 16, 2009 14:21:12 GMT -5
It had happened while beginning the move out. A notice sent from high command, funneled through the usual channels. I loved my Gouf, it served me well. But orders are orders, and I find myself sitting in one of the new Oh-Nines. Everything about the suit felt different, right down to the slightly larger cockpit.
"Sergeant Steiner, are you ready to commence the field operation test?" The female voice was accompanied by the visual of the maintenance crew-chief.
"Yes, Corporal Kratikoff." I looked at her face through the screen. Dark long hair framed her face, pale skin off-set by bright red lips. She was something of a batch of opposites. If it weren't for the war, she'd probably be a model somewhere, but whether it was patriotism or conscription, she served behind the lines.
And she didn't take any gruff when it came to taking care of mobile suits. She had come along when the Dom was dropped off and assigned to me. I don't know if that was a sign if high command truly trusted me with the unit or not, but I wouldn't argue.
The mono-eye flashed to life as I ran through the start-up checks, the familiar hum of a Minovsky reactor powering up reminding me of just what I was using. My hands slipped around the controls as I watched the screens flash to life with the field of vision.
"Remember, this isn't a Gouf, Sergeant. You're not going to be jumping around like you used to, so don't try it."
"Understood. From what I've seen, it's supposed to be like a water-strider. Much faster, and creating a smaller target for the enemy." Fingers flicking through switches as I listened to Kratikoff running through more of the features of the Oh-Nine. I was focusing more on the suit itself, trying to feel it like I once felt in the Gouf. Except that was a different monster all together.
And I learned that the hard way. When the thermonuclear jets came online, and the suit started to float along the ground, I realized just how difficult the switch was going to be.
"Sergeant, just what the hell do you think you're doing!" Her voice was piercing as I seemed to slide across the ground, all the movements incredibly rough as I couldn't really get the hang of it on the first run. Trying to do the shot-on-the-run seemed like it was going to be even more of a challenge than I thought. If I stopped to focus on one thing, I lost control of the gliding action, and just focusing on the gliding was out of the question, since what good would it be to be constantly moving if I couldn't hit anything?
"Steiner! What'd you do, learn how to fly yesterday?"
"Corporal! I am a superior-"
"I don't care if you're Field Marshal, you're not wrecking that suit, not on my watch! Now start piloting, or I'll crawl in there and beat your ass till you learn how to fly!"
I was awestruck, unable to even say anything. I was getting chewed out by a mechanic, who was probably two or three years younger than I am, but had such tenacity that the chain of command or my wings didn't really matter to her. All I could do was salute and say yes ma'am.
It took about an hour, but I was starting to get the hang of the movements. Rapid spins and constant field scanning, making sure that whatever field targets were sent out were immediately brought into my field-of-fire, even wth it just being a targeting reticle.
"Not bad, Sergeant. Tomorrow, I might let you use the paint-bazooka for practice."
I think I'm going to like my new mechanic.
"Sergeant Steiner, are you ready to commence the field operation test?" The female voice was accompanied by the visual of the maintenance crew-chief.
"Yes, Corporal Kratikoff." I looked at her face through the screen. Dark long hair framed her face, pale skin off-set by bright red lips. She was something of a batch of opposites. If it weren't for the war, she'd probably be a model somewhere, but whether it was patriotism or conscription, she served behind the lines.
And she didn't take any gruff when it came to taking care of mobile suits. She had come along when the Dom was dropped off and assigned to me. I don't know if that was a sign if high command truly trusted me with the unit or not, but I wouldn't argue.
The mono-eye flashed to life as I ran through the start-up checks, the familiar hum of a Minovsky reactor powering up reminding me of just what I was using. My hands slipped around the controls as I watched the screens flash to life with the field of vision.
"Remember, this isn't a Gouf, Sergeant. You're not going to be jumping around like you used to, so don't try it."
"Understood. From what I've seen, it's supposed to be like a water-strider. Much faster, and creating a smaller target for the enemy." Fingers flicking through switches as I listened to Kratikoff running through more of the features of the Oh-Nine. I was focusing more on the suit itself, trying to feel it like I once felt in the Gouf. Except that was a different monster all together.
And I learned that the hard way. When the thermonuclear jets came online, and the suit started to float along the ground, I realized just how difficult the switch was going to be.
"Sergeant, just what the hell do you think you're doing!" Her voice was piercing as I seemed to slide across the ground, all the movements incredibly rough as I couldn't really get the hang of it on the first run. Trying to do the shot-on-the-run seemed like it was going to be even more of a challenge than I thought. If I stopped to focus on one thing, I lost control of the gliding action, and just focusing on the gliding was out of the question, since what good would it be to be constantly moving if I couldn't hit anything?
"Steiner! What'd you do, learn how to fly yesterday?"
"Corporal! I am a superior-"
"I don't care if you're Field Marshal, you're not wrecking that suit, not on my watch! Now start piloting, or I'll crawl in there and beat your ass till you learn how to fly!"
I was awestruck, unable to even say anything. I was getting chewed out by a mechanic, who was probably two or three years younger than I am, but had such tenacity that the chain of command or my wings didn't really matter to her. All I could do was salute and say yes ma'am.
It took about an hour, but I was starting to get the hang of the movements. Rapid spins and constant field scanning, making sure that whatever field targets were sent out were immediately brought into my field-of-fire, even wth it just being a targeting reticle.
"Not bad, Sergeant. Tomorrow, I might let you use the paint-bazooka for practice."
I think I'm going to like my new mechanic.