Replacing the Dead

The day had been busy and sweltering hot in the small room where they held their interviews. It was always hot though, so that did not bother Hirsch and Gajandra as much as the poor candidates. Many applied, but few possessed anything to contribute let alone the experience to operate in extreme conditions.

"They are all too damn young. Can we just call it a day?" Gajandra said out loud.

"Give 'em ten more minutes...just ten more minutes," repeated Hirsch as he crossed out the names of potential candidates with a red pen.

"I'm assuming you're here for the interview, Mr. Gano?" asked Hirsch, fixing his thick glasses as he wrote the recruit's name down. He began the interview asking basic questions like his combat history and accomplishments. Gajandra simply observed the boy's hand gestures and eyes, he could tell more from body language than words. The Kraken captain spoke gently and clearly. Not long ago he had been in Charles' position and remembered the fear his superiors instilled in him. Nevertheless, the boy needed to know the hell that awaited him.

Hirsch lectured, "You do realize this is no walk in the park, kid. Unfortunately for all of us, the Earth Federal Forces has changed our mission role from defense team to special ops, meaning we're the first on site before any of the grunts show up. And rest assured, the Shutzstaffel will always be gunning for us. Right, Gaj?"

The tall man grunted in response, then looked straight at Charles' eyes, "Have you ever felt several metric tons of depth pressure squeeze your body as your lungs filled up with salt water? Damnit, boy, I really hope you can swim."

The conviction was definitely there, but Hirsch had his doubts still.

Taking off his glasses to give his eyes a rest, he asked frankly, "What do you have to offer us?"

Charles' words were somewhat expected though. Hirsch did not mind, it was the conviction in the boy's voice that interested him more. Grabbing Gano's folder, he flipped through the evaluations.

"So what brings you to Rio-" Hirsch stopped mid-sentence once he reached a photo of a Guncannon. Then he continued, "...this is a Guncannon Harbor Defense Type. I've heard about it, but did not expect to see an experimental suit down in Rio." Hirsch turned to Gajandra for a second and whispered in his ear before giving his attention back to Charles.

He grinned, "Now who do I need to speak to in order to get you on my squad, soldier?"

"You have a handler?" asked Hirsch.

It was like Gajandra initially suspected: pilots out of Rio de Janeiro needed babysitters. Fortunately for Charles Gano, the Krakens needed him as much as he needed them.

Not waisting another minute, Hirsch said, "I guess it doesn't matter. Just send me the paperwork and be ready, we ship out in two days."

He saluted, then bid the recruit farewell.

"We are two days from leaving Rio to the front and we're still without our pilot,"` said Hirsch as he and Gajandra waltzed into the base's hangar.

His frustration caught the eye of the chief mechanic responsible for engineering the aquatic Gundam, "Oh Corporal Munchek, you're just in time. We're about to mount the hydrojet thrusters."

The Gundam was aligned next to the GM Diver, Aqua GM and Guncannon HDT. As soon as the mechanics finished, they would load all four mobile suits onto tankers ready to relieve the 87th Integrated Fleet and New Amsterdam.

"Commander Mannery informs me that you are taking his secret weapon. You must have some pull down in Jaburo to get both the Gundam and Harbor Defense Type. Must have been that War Secretary's doing. You know, Phuong Vet Kha..." admitted the mechanic.

Hirsch pressed his last remarks, "Phuong? What do you mean?"
"Well, she made the case that Jaburo needed to fund and develop a weapon like the Waterproof, and presented to the test committee your record as proof that the navy has what it takes to win this war for us. She even argued that you should pilot the weapon too."

Although he shrugged upon hearing her name, Hirsch was far from indifferent; he missed Phuong dearly. The mechanic continued, "Now Corporal, if I remember correctly, you only have three pilots for four mobile weapons. Will we need to assign you a sailor out of boot camp or can you handle finding a pilot by yourself?"

At the other side of the hangar, yelling emanated from what looked like a short boy with a bad buzz-cut. He was busy slapping around the younger grease monkeys, barking in their ear with occasional spit, "How the fuck do you mistake my snail for a GM? Are you so stupid that you had my shit moved from the carrier to the base?" Punching one of the kids in the face, she ordered, "Everything better be fixed by tonight or else...Now get out of my fuckin' face!" He bit into the side of a beer can and sucked it's alcoholic nectar until it was dry, then burped and turned to the nosy pilot and mechanic, "And what the fuck are you looking at?"

Hirsch asked, "Who is he?"

The mechanic sighed, "You mean she. That's Bo, big o' Brazilian bull-dyke. She's been here since the beginning of the war destroying Zeek crabs with a Snail."

Curious, Hirsch asked, "You think you can do without her here?"
"I mean, I can't say she is much of a mobile suit pilot, but she's quite good at channeling her hate for the space scum. Actually, she hates everyone...wait, you're not thinking of having her pilot the Aqua GM?"

Hirsch observed the short girl as she downed her third beer, "She might be what I've been looking for. Right, Gaj?"

The Indian responded, "No one can replace Ms. Catalan, Corporal."

The mechanic began walking away, "Listen, I need to get back to work. I am just gonna say good luck. Because damn, you are going to need it."

Hirsch ignored the mechanic and instead walked toward the drunken Bo, "Hey you, I got a proposition..."