Weaponry Made For The Worst Time
Sep. 29th, 2024 12:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eatthepenMisc mecha fic originally written for Cohost for the prompt 'Mech Pilot who is getting new claws installed.'
Weaponry Made For The Worst Time
"Both hands? Look, this is serious business, there'll be no picking your nose after this."
"I understand, sir."
"Hey, none of that, I'm not an officer. Look, I did one hand for a girl, it's true, but these things… you understand what this really means?"
"Yes, sir."
"No- Okay, look. We have to affix the nail directly to your distal phalange, and DiamanditeTM does not dull or break, ever. There's no taking these off. They'll never get any less sharp. You cannot cap or shield them, they'll cut through anything you could use."
"I need a weapon that can't be taken from me."
"Unless you get your hand cut off."
"Then I'll be dead anyway, sooner or later."
"Look, miss… Four? These things are so sharp that they'll slice flesh at even the slightest touch. Put a little bit of effort in and they'll cut bone. If you go through with this you'll never be able to touch another human being again without maiming them."
"'Another'? Legally I'm not a human being."
"Well I'm a doctor, not a lawyer. This is… this is like withdrawing yourself forever from any possibility of participation in human society."
"I have requested penitential redeployment to Sevarillo-6b."
"No!" There's a crash as One frees herself, bowling one of the NPs over and charging down the gantry. As she leaves the light behind, the silver glow rises in her eyes, so that Four can't hide from the pain on her face.
One grabs Four by the sleeve of her jumpsuit. There are already dozens of small tears in the outer nylon layers, just from pulling it on, but not enough that Four can just rip her way free. One buries her head in Four's shoulder. "Please don't go. Four… please, I'll be alone."
Four says nothing, keeping her grip on the side of the capsule because it's the easiest way to keep the DiamanditeTM from causing any trouble. The little scratch-marks get a little bit longer and deeper.
"Two…" One says, her voice hoarse. "I want to know why she did it, too, you know? I miss Three as much as you. I miss them both. But if you leave…"
Four looks down into the capsule. It's spartan. There's a small survival kit in a sealed compartment below where her feet will sit, but the compartment that she'll lie in is just grey polyrubber packing. She lowers her foot into the well.
"No!" One shouts again, not loud but with a tone scraped raw by sobs. She grabs at Four's hand and almost immediately gasps in pain.
Reflex makes Four look at the other pilot. One has staggered a couple of steps back, clutching her own hand and staring at it as blood begins to stream down her thumb. Four hadn't even felt her nails break One's skin. There's no blood on their glittering tips.
"You really… you really chose this…" One's whisper makes it less than a question.
For an answer, Four just holds up both hands, palms towards herself so One can see the full set of claws. One stares at her, shining eyes wide. When Four turns back to the capsule and climbs inside, One says no more. The NPs are starting to lead her away by the time the capsule lid closes over Four.
Weaponry Made For The Worst Time
"You want medical leave for what? Why?"
"That's answered by the second form, Ma'am."
A rustle of papers.
"Penit- Oh, you… Well, that's above my authority to countermand."
"Yes, ma'am."
"You don't have to do this, Four."
"You can't stop me, ma'am."
"I know."
No answer.
"Four, we're all feeling the same. I know you don't believe in penance."
Silence.
"Even if you find Two down there, you won't be able to come back. Not with the truth, not with her secrets. Not with Three."
Stillness.
"That's answered by the second form, Ma'am."
A rustle of papers.
"Penit- Oh, you… Well, that's above my authority to countermand."
"Yes, ma'am."
"You don't have to do this, Four."
"You can't stop me, ma'am."
"I know."
No answer.
"Four, we're all feeling the same. I know you don't believe in penance."
Silence.
"Even if you find Two down there, you won't be able to come back. Not with the truth, not with her secrets. Not with Three."
Stillness.
"Nothing for it, then. I'm sorry, Four. Sorry we couldn't protect you."
"Both hands? Look, this is serious business, there'll be no picking your nose after this."
"I understand, sir."
"Hey, none of that, I'm not an officer. Look, I did one hand for a girl, it's true, but these things… you understand what this really means?"
"Yes, sir."
"No- Okay, look. We have to affix the nail directly to your distal phalange, and DiamanditeTM does not dull or break, ever. There's no taking these off. They'll never get any less sharp. You cannot cap or shield them, they'll cut through anything you could use."
"I need a weapon that can't be taken from me."
"Unless you get your hand cut off."
"Then I'll be dead anyway, sooner or later."
"Look, miss… Four? These things are so sharp that they'll slice flesh at even the slightest touch. Put a little bit of effort in and they'll cut bone. If you go through with this you'll never be able to touch another human being again without maiming them."
"'Another'? Legally I'm not a human being."
"Well I'm a doctor, not a lawyer. This is… this is like withdrawing yourself forever from any possibility of participation in human society."
"I have requested penitential redeployment to Sevarillo-6b."
"Oh, like that- Well. Sorry I wasted time trying to talk you out of it."
* * *
"Four!" The voice brings Four's head up as she's about to step into the capsule. Slowly she turns her head, looking back along the dark, narrow gantry that serves the AND MAY THOSE WHO SIN GO FORTH PROUD ONLY OF THEIR SHAME's torpedo tubes.
"No!" There's a crash as One frees herself, bowling one of the NPs over and charging down the gantry. As she leaves the light behind, the silver glow rises in her eyes, so that Four can't hide from the pain on her face.
One grabs Four by the sleeve of her jumpsuit. There are already dozens of small tears in the outer nylon layers, just from pulling it on, but not enough that Four can just rip her way free. One buries her head in Four's shoulder. "Please don't go. Four… please, I'll be alone."
Four says nothing, keeping her grip on the side of the capsule because it's the easiest way to keep the DiamanditeTM from causing any trouble. The little scratch-marks get a little bit longer and deeper.
"Two…" One says, her voice hoarse. "I want to know why she did it, too, you know? I miss Three as much as you. I miss them both. But if you leave…"
Four looks down into the capsule. It's spartan. There's a small survival kit in a sealed compartment below where her feet will sit, but the compartment that she'll lie in is just grey polyrubber packing. She lowers her foot into the well.
"No!" One shouts again, not loud but with a tone scraped raw by sobs. She grabs at Four's hand and almost immediately gasps in pain.
Reflex makes Four look at the other pilot. One has staggered a couple of steps back, clutching her own hand and staring at it as blood begins to stream down her thumb. Four hadn't even felt her nails break One's skin. There's no blood on their glittering tips.
"You really… you really chose this…" One's whisper makes it less than a question.
For an answer, Four just holds up both hands, palms towards herself so One can see the full set of claws. One stares at her, shining eyes wide. When Four turns back to the capsule and climbs inside, One says no more. The NPs are starting to lead her away by the time the capsule lid closes over Four.