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Iron Drumbeat Chapter 10
🕑 Added 2023-09-02 03:55:02 +0000 UTC“It is theorised that the eld-fog is raw chaos in physical form, but there are many credible dissenting hypothesis on the subject. One only needs to interact with the fog to realise it is far too intelligent for that; far too malicious. One might even suggest that it acts more like a bored, unknowable god. Regardless of the school of thought on the matter, all agree that it is best not to allow it to touch you.”
— A Guide to travelling the Eld-fog, by Herman Abel.
The annoying thing about breaking, wounded, through the horde instead of freshly spawned, was that I now had to wait to heal the old fashioned way. I hobbled into the small living quarters with Tink trailing behind me, wringing their hands while I bled everywhere.
The main room of the living quarters inside the transport were cramped, just like everything else aboard. At face value, it was a big room, maybe five by four metres, but with the amount of crap crammed into it? It felt anything but spacious.
The entrance came in on one of the shorter sides, and opposite it was a wall to wall bench with an oven, a refrigerator, and as many cupboards as could be crammed in. The remaining walls had two metal tables apiece, each bolted in place with their accompanying benches so that anyone who sat down faced the featureless bulkheads. All up, the space gave big mass produced military vibes. I could almost imagine the old crew sitting at the benches, eating, talking shit, and grumbling about the food.
Spirits, but my arm and side hurt like a bitch. "Tink, I need to get my top off. Can you help?"
Her fluffy little head nodded and she directed me to sit on the bench at the closest table. As I turned to plant my ass down with my back to the table, I saw someone else doing the same in the corner of my eye.
I almost bolted back up and punched the figure, until I realised it was me. There was a huge mirror beside the door! What the fuck? What type of soldier needs a bloody mirror?!
Tink tugged urgently at my top, and I obliged, helping with as much movement as my poor, battered body could handle. Finally, the top came off and… oh…
I stared into the mirror, dumbfounded. I had boobs. Tiny boobs. I mean, I knew I had boobs. They were there all week since I got yoinked by the fog, but… wow. One of them had a big black bruise forming over it, and it was kinda pretty, like a flower or something. I wonder if my boobs would grow out later? I was only like, sixteen or so. At least according to Tug, who was the oldest kid still with us and the guy who kept a record of those things.
“Bite on this,” Tink signed to me in the mirror, which was wacky because the signs were backwards.
She shoved an old handle from some broken tool into my mouth, and I frowned, confused, until she pulled out a sewing needle and thread. Oh, fuck.
When she stabbed me with it though, I found it didn’t actually hurt too bad. Not compared to getting clawed and bitten and shit anyway. I still had to fight to clench my teeth to keep from hissing each time she pulled the thread through my skin, but yeah. Not terrible. Just shit.
Then I noticed my abs in the mirror, and I forgot all about the pain. They were covered by a thin layer of fat normally, but when I tensed… wow! Why was my stomach fluttering so hard over this? Why did I like having soft girl abs so damn much?
I found myself grinning around the handle I was biting down on, and then I noticed how much I was blushing, and that made me feel even weirder. Agh, I was so confused! I was sitting topless in a bucket of rust, being sewed up by my friend after we escaped from a slaving asshole… and I was happy over how good I looked as a girl? I wasn’t even hot! Not like that girl, Landslide, from the next safehouse over, who everyone knew was the hottest female undercity kid.
Still, I liked it. I actually liked how I looked. There was a lot I’d improve if I got back to civilization and landed the lottery or some shit, but… yeah. Girl me was pretty cool.
I did need a new name after I threw out the last one, though. I just couldn’t think of anything that fit me!
Pulling the handle out of my mouth, I said, “Hey Tink, I decided I didn’t like the name Melli. It’s not… me. Have you got any ideas for a name?”
Their brow furrowed in thought, they continued to work on my arm, indicating with a gesture for me to wait. Right, they couldn’t talk with their hands full.
Finally, they put the thread down and signed phonetically, “M-e-l-l-i-n-i-r-a-d. Keeps the old one, but adds a word from my tongue. It means… it is like tough, but also persevering and strong willed. You have great fortitude to have survived as much of the universe’s cruelty as you have.”
“Mellinirad,” I said out loud, tasting the name. It felt like… it felt like the sensation of sliding a credit chip out of someone’s pocket so smoothly that you had to check it actually made it into your hand. It felt like the slap on the back I used to get from my friends when I got away with the goods and nobody noticed. It fit me.
“I like it a lot, thank you Tink,” I said, breathless with the undecipherable emotions that were boiling inside me. “We’ll shorten it to Nirad for now. I still don’t feel cute enough to be called Melli, so…” I signed a nonsense sign to her that vaguely resembled the phonetic spelling of Nirad.
“Perfect,” they signed happily, and with a final painful tug, finished stitching my arm back together. “You may clothe yourself again.”
Doing so reluctantly, I groaned and looked around at the— what was it called? The galley? The place where you make and eat food on a ship.
“Need like, a robot chef or something,” I said idly. Glancing at her, I asked, “Wait, we are fixing this place up, right? Is it doable?”
They nodded, and signed further, “We need parts, and I think it would be best if we fix that machine in the hangar. It will let you carry heavy things that our small arms cannot.”
“Okay… so how do we fix it?”
“First, I must go and inspect it,” she signed, waving a hand at me like it was obvious she hadn’t looked at it yet. “Legs I saw will need to be swapped out. I build something new. Possibly reverse knees for extra reach and jump? There are lots of obstacles that will require advanced navigation techniques. I will think.”
“It’ll be good for stocking this tub with as much random junk as we can to take and sell,” I agreed. “Spirits, if we had more time in this place I bet we’d be filthy rich. There’s probably some priceless artifacts hidden among this stuff.”
“Almost certainly, but without the knowledge to understand what is priceless, how would we know?” she signed sagely. “It is pointless to yearn. Come, we go and see this machine together. You will be the pilot, after all.”
We moved to the hangar, and I gave the mech a properly critical eyeballing. I could see what Tink meant about the legs. Giving them reverse jointed knees and stuff would give them much more power. Sort of like my own mechanical legs, actually. The arms could probably do with extra power too. I think? I was mostly going off pure guesswork and the memory of how it felt to merge with it.
Tink waved a hand in my peripheral vision, and I glanced over to see her sign, "This machine was designed for rapid movement. It is lightweight compared to others from the same military, and I think it will require a little extra armour if you are to operate it alone without tougher units for cover. I will build strong, fast, and powerful legs to allow you to maintain most of the intended speed, but I hesitate to go beyond that into the realm of flight. A few maneuvering thrusters for rapid course correction will be the maximum in that realm."
Rubbing my hands up and down my arms in thought, I nodded along with her words.
"You are cold?" She asked.
I shook my head and dropped my hands to my sides. "No. Honestly, I think I'm just keen to get started on it. If we use the scrap-land to build an extremely badass mech, I can do mercenary work to buy us supplies."
"Mercenary work?" Mused Tink, thinking the idea over. "Fighting for money?"
I nodded. "Yeah. The mech would get us a lot of cash, and hell, we could outfit me with gear to let me run without the mech if needed. I've spoken to a few mercs from back home and they make pretty good cash."
"I— ah, I was going to object because I would rather not see you hurt, but…" they signed wryly.
"But I just come back to life if I die," I agreed with a silly smile. "It'll suck more to lose the mech, to be honest. Another reason why giving me on-foot-gear is a good idea."
"Yes. I see the wisdom in that. Okay, it is decided. We fix the mech, then use it to fix the transport, then use that to escape this place with as much weight as we can fit onboard. We will be like… like pirates!"
"Pirates!" I giggled, and we bumped fists. I really liked my little partner in crime. We were going to cause so much mayhem!
Comments
Amelia
Something about the drumbeat collection hates me I swear
Nikky AI
this seems to not be added to the collection?
Ulaeth, Princess of Insanity
Hee~ so adorable and giving off plenty of Armored Core vibes too. I really like~
Allydia
Adorkable
