Post by nirvash on Feb 20, 2010 17:46:03 GMT -5
The blue Sniper was cradled in a mechanical harness when Kreuz walked into the hangar. There were several technicians on and around it, sparks danced around some to the tune of hissing pistons and whirring drills, a ballet repeated on nearly all of the weapons in the hangar.
It was... disgusting.
A worker on the Sniper's leg nodded in recognition to Kreuz as the pilot let his body drift up to the cockpit hatch. His hand wrapped around the release lever, but his hand slipped out of the latch's groove after it proved locked. He flipped a smaller lever above the cockpit's release, revealing a silver keypad, contrasting with the deep blue of the chest armor.
Kreuz let his fingers do the thinking, entering the password on the small display, only taking a second to type out his personal password: 21-18 1 6-1-7. The panel snapped down as his hand pulled away, locking closed as the cockpit hatch leaned outwards and up.
He slipped into the dark cockpit and flipped two switches to the on position. He only needed passive draw on the reactor, the computer was all he was here for. The monitor slowly glowed to life. The Mobile Suit's cameras and audio sensor arrays activated, revealing a bustling world beneath its sight. The secondary monitors brought up the status alerts, speed, acceleration, reactor output, ammunition readings (only the vulcans were green), and even the light and sound levels, something his suit's computer paid much more attention to than a standard GM's would.
He reached forward and opened a hatch underneath the HUD--and ripped a handful of wires away--No, I didn't do that. He looked at his hand. Empty. He shut the hatch.
Did I just see that...?
He shook the fading memory off, like a phantom mist, already dissipating by the time he noticed it. He pressed a button next to one of the seat's arms, revealing two small keyboard units, scrollwheel included on the right one. A monitor turned black before rapidly scrolling through an active commands list before finally settling on the secondary command display. Secondary because connecting the computer to a dedicated analysis and modification computer was much preferrable to the cramped user interface forced into the cockpit's nooks.
RGM-79SP: SYSTEM VERSION 2.091.V8
SYSTEM NAME: GARM
UNIT NAME: GARM
UNIT OPERATOR: MICHAEL KREUZ
UNIT DESIGNATION: LONG RANGE OPTICAL TARGETING SYSTEM AND IMPROVED MOBILE SUIT ENGINEERING TEST SUIT
ALL DATA IS CLASSIFIED - ALL COMPUTER SYSTEMS TERMINATED IF COMPROMISED
Kreuz hesitated, his modifications to the system were probably already noticed, he knew that. The data that got sent back whenever there was a clear opening had ever last morsel of code and information the Sniper processed. But he had to change it. The machine felt... odd, sometimes. Like it was anticipating someone else's techniques and maneuvers, and that made it so frustrating to make it do what he wanted. He had to change it. Was it okay? It had to be. As long as they were getting effective data, he wasn't doing anything wrong. And the "all computer systems terminated if compromised" clause wasn't something he had to worry about; like most Mobile Suits, that was nearly impossible to trigger without the perfect conditions, and even then, you could deactivate the reactor if you knew the right code.
So, he just had to change certain values, certain numbers. Dial in everything he wanted. Everything had to feel just right. This Mobile Suit was his. It was, for all intents and purposes, one of a kind. It wasn't the only one in existence, but it was the first, it was the one the others were based on. It was the first in real combat, too.
Now, he wanted to make sure the limbs acted like how he needed them to act, like a machine, with mechanical efficiency, instead of some giant superhero with a disturbing sense of malice behind the motions.
He grabbed the control stick and--dropped the rifle on a mechanic--What...did I just do? The pilot looked down, the Sniper's head following his motion, and the camera focused on the hangar floor. No rifle. Just a mechanic working on the leg. Besides...there wasn't any gravity here, he couldn't "drop" the rifle...
Again, the scene slipped away like an ethereal vapor.
Next, the targeting visor. He swung it around the side of his head and looked through it--and saw that the ship was mangled, gigantic rifle rounds had pierced holes in the ship's sides, while the floor and walls were riddled with smaller puncture wounds from the vulcans. Blood and corpses drifted around, and other Mobile Suits bled smoke and gases, dead.--and saw that the targeting reticle was tracking tighter than usual. Good.
Not good.
The hangar.
What did I do.
But it's fine.
He knew what it was. The stress was finally getting to him. Richter was far away from him in many ways, and there was nothing he could do to protect his little brother. His life had nearly been extinguished several times over the course of just a few weeks, and he was fighting desperately every battle just to keep himself, and if he was lucky, another person alive. But the Other. Was he something more than a dream?
Kreuz sighed. He had only slept for a few hours, and his adrenal gland seemed to have given up weeks ago. He just needed to sleep.
I'm not going crazy, am I?
"No, you're fine."
It was... disgusting.
A worker on the Sniper's leg nodded in recognition to Kreuz as the pilot let his body drift up to the cockpit hatch. His hand wrapped around the release lever, but his hand slipped out of the latch's groove after it proved locked. He flipped a smaller lever above the cockpit's release, revealing a silver keypad, contrasting with the deep blue of the chest armor.
Kreuz let his fingers do the thinking, entering the password on the small display, only taking a second to type out his personal password: 21-18 1 6-1-7. The panel snapped down as his hand pulled away, locking closed as the cockpit hatch leaned outwards and up.
He slipped into the dark cockpit and flipped two switches to the on position. He only needed passive draw on the reactor, the computer was all he was here for. The monitor slowly glowed to life. The Mobile Suit's cameras and audio sensor arrays activated, revealing a bustling world beneath its sight. The secondary monitors brought up the status alerts, speed, acceleration, reactor output, ammunition readings (only the vulcans were green), and even the light and sound levels, something his suit's computer paid much more attention to than a standard GM's would.
He reached forward and opened a hatch underneath the HUD--and ripped a handful of wires away--No, I didn't do that. He looked at his hand. Empty. He shut the hatch.
Did I just see that...?
He shook the fading memory off, like a phantom mist, already dissipating by the time he noticed it. He pressed a button next to one of the seat's arms, revealing two small keyboard units, scrollwheel included on the right one. A monitor turned black before rapidly scrolling through an active commands list before finally settling on the secondary command display. Secondary because connecting the computer to a dedicated analysis and modification computer was much preferrable to the cramped user interface forced into the cockpit's nooks.
RGM-79SP: SYSTEM VERSION 2.091.V8
SYSTEM NAME: GARM
UNIT NAME: GARM
UNIT OPERATOR: MICHAEL KREUZ
UNIT DESIGNATION: LONG RANGE OPTICAL TARGETING SYSTEM AND IMPROVED MOBILE SUIT ENGINEERING TEST SUIT
ALL DATA IS CLASSIFIED - ALL COMPUTER SYSTEMS TERMINATED IF COMPROMISED
Kreuz hesitated, his modifications to the system were probably already noticed, he knew that. The data that got sent back whenever there was a clear opening had ever last morsel of code and information the Sniper processed. But he had to change it. The machine felt... odd, sometimes. Like it was anticipating someone else's techniques and maneuvers, and that made it so frustrating to make it do what he wanted. He had to change it. Was it okay? It had to be. As long as they were getting effective data, he wasn't doing anything wrong. And the "all computer systems terminated if compromised" clause wasn't something he had to worry about; like most Mobile Suits, that was nearly impossible to trigger without the perfect conditions, and even then, you could deactivate the reactor if you knew the right code.
So, he just had to change certain values, certain numbers. Dial in everything he wanted. Everything had to feel just right. This Mobile Suit was his. It was, for all intents and purposes, one of a kind. It wasn't the only one in existence, but it was the first, it was the one the others were based on. It was the first in real combat, too.
Now, he wanted to make sure the limbs acted like how he needed them to act, like a machine, with mechanical efficiency, instead of some giant superhero with a disturbing sense of malice behind the motions.
He grabbed the control stick and--dropped the rifle on a mechanic--What...did I just do? The pilot looked down, the Sniper's head following his motion, and the camera focused on the hangar floor. No rifle. Just a mechanic working on the leg. Besides...there wasn't any gravity here, he couldn't "drop" the rifle...
Again, the scene slipped away like an ethereal vapor.
Next, the targeting visor. He swung it around the side of his head and looked through it--and saw that the ship was mangled, gigantic rifle rounds had pierced holes in the ship's sides, while the floor and walls were riddled with smaller puncture wounds from the vulcans. Blood and corpses drifted around, and other Mobile Suits bled smoke and gases, dead.--and saw that the targeting reticle was tracking tighter than usual. Good.
Not good.
The hangar.
What did I do.
But it's fine.
He knew what it was. The stress was finally getting to him. Richter was far away from him in many ways, and there was nothing he could do to protect his little brother. His life had nearly been extinguished several times over the course of just a few weeks, and he was fighting desperately every battle just to keep himself, and if he was lucky, another person alive. But the Other. Was he something more than a dream?
Kreuz sighed. He had only slept for a few hours, and his adrenal gland seemed to have given up weeks ago. He just needed to sleep.
I'm not going crazy, am I?
"No, you're fine."