Quoted By:
-Back in Bed
Inside a bunker at Camp Nagita, an one-eyed man addresses two of his subordinates. One in a hospital bed, the other stiffly standing at attention.
“Engage light elements, then leave. Survive. So I could put you into another fight. Then another.”
His harsh tone washes over the pair.
“Not pile through one light lance into a battle lance, then take your one-of-a-kind machine on a death run while another lance chases you. I needed the Deva intact. And functional.”
The rather unhappy Caldwell speaks up.
“Sir! It was my error. I, and my Mastermind, would be scrap if she didn’t lead them away.”
The singular eye looks the unfortunate up and down.
“Then she should have left you to die. As per her orders. I needed the Deva to make more appearances as ‘Beta’ more than I needed you. “
The judgemental eye snaps back to the prone form.
“Lieutenant Romanov. I thought you wanted to avoid hospital beds.”
Her bandaged face did her no favors. Neither did the fresh skin grafts.
“It was needed. Sir. A Core Frame wouldn’t just cut and run after cutting half of a recon lance, not when it could go for more. I had to sell the act.”
The tone of the response could freeze icebergs.
“A Core would do what it was told. As it has before. Under a teenager. And now you are presently unfit to operate.”
That elicited a reaction.
“No, I can still fight. Put me back in. I made a bad call. But I won’t-”
The Colonel cut her off.
“Rest up, heal. Things will be taken care of.”
The functional arm pushed her back up to a sitting position. The weight of a leg sagged off the cushion, almost making it to the edge of the bed before the other Lieutenant caught it, stopping her from trying to stand.
A swift shake of his head told her everything.
Stop.
She jerked the leg out of his grip, over the edge with a clang. Staggering to her feet next to Caldwell. The metal arm forming a fist.
“You need me. You need a pilot for the Frame. There are no other options. You think he’ll take anyone? You get more Deltas.”
The fist was shaking. Stubborn.
“And You. Are. Unfit. I can see the tremors right now. In anyone else, I would say neurohelmet overuse. For you, something is wrong with your Neural Direct Interface. If you say you are fit, then follow orders and get back in the bed. Or try to walk, and I put you back in bed without a future.”
Some sanity seemed to return then, and she sat back down.
“Good.”
