prologue it is
Mar. 6th, 2006 10:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrRead: ego-stroking >_>
Anyway. This story intimidates the fuck out of me like whoa. You've no idea. I probably won't have more of it for awhile, as I still don't really know what the fuck is going on minus a handful of scenes that really don't have anything to do with each other. I've never done a war story, especially not with this setting, of all settings. Thankfully, thus far it has no relation to GWing >_> I hope.
Also, never let me read cute, silly poetry.
Never Afraid Are We
Prologue
They call us Knights.
Not for all that noble, devoted, loyalist crap. No, they call us Knights because like those soldiers of old, our Armor is just as likely to kill us as save us. Metal coffins, like. They call us other stuff - Armor Dogs, Space Dogs, Mutes, Freaks, Triplets. Other things. Mostly Knights where we can hear them. The rest where we can’t. Like we give a fuck. You ask anyone, we care about only three things - the other two men on our team and the battlesuit.
Our real name is a hell of a lot more boring. The entire mouthful is the Northwest Province Three Special Combat Armor Unit (NW-P3 SCAU). 'Combat Armor'(CA) sounds redundant, I know, but this is the military - we thrive on overstating the obvious. Technically they're battlesuits, thought suit isn't really the best word either. Better than the prototype 'mechas' which was just motherfucking stupid.
Standard CA is about fifteen feet high, almost half that wide. I'd tell you more but it's fucking classified - including how much NW-P3 suits weight. There's a reason our unit is the best in the world, even with Plague.
But the suit isn't everything. Fuck, it's probably the least important component. Any half-decent team- can make even a scrapheap CA into a fucking sweet machine. No, the CA ain’t the most important part. The heart of a CA is the team.
Armor takes three.
Whatever you might think you know about piloting a Combat Armor, you don't know shit. It ain't about some asshole, cocksure pilot blowing up the skies and ignoring his commanding officer to save a shrieking pair of tits. Fuck that. It's about three. A fucking holy trinity.
There is of course a pilot involved, but they’re not assholes – except Plague. Someone has to be fuck-all stupid enough to fly the things. Beside the pilot, you have the armor mechanic – usually just called a ‘nic – who maintains the hardware aspect of the CA. No easy task that, trust me. Not that anything about this job is easy, but ‘nics are a long way from fixing cars and shit. It’d be like asking a six-star chef to make ice cubes.
Pilots and nics are two of the three, the last one being the armor technician – the tec. He handles all the softwar issues, obviously. Tec completes the triangle, and they’re as special in their field as nics and pilots.
It’s rare a trio doesn’t get along. There are various reasons for this, one more glaringly important than the others. But it should be pretty obvious, even to a dipshit civilian – pretend for example that you’re the pilot. Fucking sucks if you get hit – and hit doesn’t necessarily mean something goes boom – and can’t tell if the problem is software, hardware or pilotware. Likewise, the nic and tec need to know where to help and how to help each other. And do you think there’s time to take the CA back to base if something goes wrong? Fucking idiot, if you think that. If the problem is bad enough the pilot has to fix it, he has to be able to trust his nic and tec to tell him the problem and how to fix it. Likewise, he has to be trusted to fix it. There’s no time for bickering and specialists keeping secrets from their comrades. Hell fucking no.
Anyone tells you different, they’re probably part of Plague’s trio.
So the trinity relies on trust first and foremost. You also need brains, and calm under pressure – but a calm like that is only achieved over time. No one starts out that cool. You stay calm the first time a Jackalope comes at you? I’ll punch you for being a goddamn liar.
Generally life ain’t that exciting. Jackalopes take up a lot of our time, but not all of it. When we’re not fighting, life is pretty goddamn boring and we’ve got lists of duties twice as long as Plague says his dick is. Thankfully they’re only half as boring, though that’s plenty boring enough, trust me.
But shit storms do happen and when they do chaos ain’t enough to describe it. Bitch takes a smack from a Jackalope and finds his CA malfunctioning? Who the fuck has time to stop and talk to fix it?
No one. The fighting don’t stop so you can chat with your buddies to fix the fucking problem. There is no fucking time to talk – hell, there’s barely time to breathe. So what do you do?
That’s what the wedding rings are for.
No, they’re not really wedding rings. Christ.
May as well be, some say. Loads more binding than some ancient history ceremony, that’s for fucking sure. They’re restricted to SCAU soldiers, though it’s said they’re starting to work on putting them to use elsewhere in the military. They’re just plain platinum rings, but specially made to set up a special band of telepathic communication between a trinity. Just the three, though the brass of course can snoops on thoughts when they want.
S’why we’re considered freaky, mostly. There are other reasons, but that’s the big one. We mostly get it for the way we never talk to each other – the trinity I mean. We talk to other people, no choice there. But why would we bother talking to each other when the bond we have makes it so much easier and clearer? There’s no way to describe it, really.
Technically we only have to wear the rings when we’re on duty, but once we get used to it rarely does a SCAU take his ring off. It’s just…you don’t do it. Why would you want to?
Strictly speaking, the rings only permit the sharing of thoughts you want to share. It doesn’t open the mind or whatever the fuck you want to call it. Just creates a private band in which the trinity can talk. But rumors ever fly about how the closer a team is, the more thoughts they share, until the private band is gone and they’re simply mind to mind to mind.
I guess I could explain how the rings work, but I don’t fucking feel like it and there’s some classified shit even I won’t fuck with.
Anyway, the rings enable limited telepathy. Now you see why everyone calls us creepy? No? Think about it for a minute – and it ain’t my strong point so if I can manage it so the fuck can you. Things slip out in the heat of the moment, when lives are on the line or tempers flare. One stray thought that can’t be taken back, a section of the mind opened to your comrades whether you wanted to let them in or not. And once it’s opened, it’s a lot fucking harder to close it up again. It’s plenty freaky, the first time it happens and you realize just how much you’ve laid bare. But before too long, your greatest fear is not having those other minds blending with yours. It’s…something else. Civis think we’re freaks, even most of the regular military thinks we’re just as bad as the Jackalopes we keep away from the planet, but that’s only because they don’t know what they’re missing.
Of course, even civis don’t knock the Legendary.
The story goes that the Legendary had a bond that surpassed everything SCAU thought it knew about bonds. They were so close it was like they were three parts of one mind. People talk about soulmates and shit, like it’s something spiritual and profound and all. I don’t think so. A soul is what makes you different from every other body on the planet, and those differences are built by life yeah? Your family, where and how you grew up, how you think and feel. I guess you could see that as something glowing and shining deep inside somewhere, but makes more sense to me that’s it’s just the mind. Sharing your every thought, every feeling? Go as deep as the Legendary and you really do become one. That’s a soulmate. I don’t care what the fuck anyone else says.
So the Legendary were as close as it’s possible for people to be. Not possible, brass says. Such a bond would drive them insane. All the studies say so.
But the night before they vanished, they seemed plenty sane to me. I’d say there a fuckload more stable than the rest of us. I might be biased thought – no one likes to see his brother go from international hero to being reviled as a traitor, and an insane one at that.
They were always the Legendary to civilians, some of the few SCAU that werent’ treated as complete pariahs. Still called that by civis, though sometimes nowadays most are changing it to ‘Legendary Traitors’ – thought not where I can hear them.
We don’t call them that. Anyone is SCAU calls you by your given name or something stupid like that? Punch him. Unless it’s Plague – kick him in the nuts. Hard.
SCAU don’t go by any name but the ones we’re given when finally made part of a trinity. We would never call a team we all but worshipped ourselves by something so goddamn pussy as Legendary. No, we used their real names – what civis and other military would call a codename maybe, or a call sign.
My team and I aren’t what my brother was, where the bond is concerned. But my brother said he thought we would be, someday. It was one of the last things he said to me. The next day they were gone.
Fucking hell, when they vanished I was asked every goddamn question the brass could motherfucking think up – five times. For all the goddamn good it did them. Do you – do they – really think my brother and his team would have told me of all people what they were up to?
Fuckwits.
We – my team – didn’t learn until just a few hours ago why my brother and his team did what made them traitors.
I never doubted for a minute my brother was anything but a SCAU pilot. He’s always been an Armor. Because it’s not a job to do for fame and fortune, not really. Being a SCAU is more likely to ruin a career, and I don’t mean by getting you killed. We do it for the rush at first; most of us were fighter pilots or the like before joining up to work with CA. But eventually we do it for the bond. When you leave SCAU, the ‘marriage’ is dissolved. Most of us would rather die in space than live without that bond for a few seconds.
Anyway. This ain’t my story, no one gives a fuck about me and that’s the way I prefer it, but I am the one telling the story so I guess you need to know something.
I was born Stewart Gray, born and raised in the southern part of Grand America. I joined up with the military and spent years as a fighter pilot – the details ain’t important. Eventually it led to NW-P3 SCAU, which I was good enough to be given an invitation to join. I was twenty-seven when I was finally made part of a team. I’ve been Sleet ever since. I’m the pilot. Snow is our nic, Ice our tec. We’re the team for CA Whiteout.
My brother’s name was Winkin, and he was a pilot. Their nic was Blinkin, and the tec was Nod. They were the team for CA Old Moon, and they were the greatest SCAU team to ever live. This is why they turned traitor.
Anyway. This story intimidates the fuck out of me like whoa. You've no idea. I probably won't have more of it for awhile, as I still don't really know what the fuck is going on minus a handful of scenes that really don't have anything to do with each other. I've never done a war story, especially not with this setting, of all settings. Thankfully, thus far it has no relation to GWing >_> I hope.
Also, never let me read cute, silly poetry.
Never Afraid Are We
Prologue
They call us Knights.
Not for all that noble, devoted, loyalist crap. No, they call us Knights because like those soldiers of old, our Armor is just as likely to kill us as save us. Metal coffins, like. They call us other stuff - Armor Dogs, Space Dogs, Mutes, Freaks, Triplets. Other things. Mostly Knights where we can hear them. The rest where we can’t. Like we give a fuck. You ask anyone, we care about only three things - the other two men on our team and the battlesuit.
Our real name is a hell of a lot more boring. The entire mouthful is the Northwest Province Three Special Combat Armor Unit (NW-P3 SCAU). 'Combat Armor'(CA) sounds redundant, I know, but this is the military - we thrive on overstating the obvious. Technically they're battlesuits, thought suit isn't really the best word either. Better than the prototype 'mechas' which was just motherfucking stupid.
Standard CA is about fifteen feet high, almost half that wide. I'd tell you more but it's fucking classified - including how much NW-P3 suits weight. There's a reason our unit is the best in the world, even with Plague.
But the suit isn't everything. Fuck, it's probably the least important component. Any half-decent team- can make even a scrapheap CA into a fucking sweet machine. No, the CA ain’t the most important part. The heart of a CA is the team.
Armor takes three.
Whatever you might think you know about piloting a Combat Armor, you don't know shit. It ain't about some asshole, cocksure pilot blowing up the skies and ignoring his commanding officer to save a shrieking pair of tits. Fuck that. It's about three. A fucking holy trinity.
There is of course a pilot involved, but they’re not assholes – except Plague. Someone has to be fuck-all stupid enough to fly the things. Beside the pilot, you have the armor mechanic – usually just called a ‘nic – who maintains the hardware aspect of the CA. No easy task that, trust me. Not that anything about this job is easy, but ‘nics are a long way from fixing cars and shit. It’d be like asking a six-star chef to make ice cubes.
Pilots and nics are two of the three, the last one being the armor technician – the tec. He handles all the softwar issues, obviously. Tec completes the triangle, and they’re as special in their field as nics and pilots.
It’s rare a trio doesn’t get along. There are various reasons for this, one more glaringly important than the others. But it should be pretty obvious, even to a dipshit civilian – pretend for example that you’re the pilot. Fucking sucks if you get hit – and hit doesn’t necessarily mean something goes boom – and can’t tell if the problem is software, hardware or pilotware. Likewise, the nic and tec need to know where to help and how to help each other. And do you think there’s time to take the CA back to base if something goes wrong? Fucking idiot, if you think that. If the problem is bad enough the pilot has to fix it, he has to be able to trust his nic and tec to tell him the problem and how to fix it. Likewise, he has to be trusted to fix it. There’s no time for bickering and specialists keeping secrets from their comrades. Hell fucking no.
Anyone tells you different, they’re probably part of Plague’s trio.
So the trinity relies on trust first and foremost. You also need brains, and calm under pressure – but a calm like that is only achieved over time. No one starts out that cool. You stay calm the first time a Jackalope comes at you? I’ll punch you for being a goddamn liar.
Generally life ain’t that exciting. Jackalopes take up a lot of our time, but not all of it. When we’re not fighting, life is pretty goddamn boring and we’ve got lists of duties twice as long as Plague says his dick is. Thankfully they’re only half as boring, though that’s plenty boring enough, trust me.
But shit storms do happen and when they do chaos ain’t enough to describe it. Bitch takes a smack from a Jackalope and finds his CA malfunctioning? Who the fuck has time to stop and talk to fix it?
No one. The fighting don’t stop so you can chat with your buddies to fix the fucking problem. There is no fucking time to talk – hell, there’s barely time to breathe. So what do you do?
That’s what the wedding rings are for.
No, they’re not really wedding rings. Christ.
May as well be, some say. Loads more binding than some ancient history ceremony, that’s for fucking sure. They’re restricted to SCAU soldiers, though it’s said they’re starting to work on putting them to use elsewhere in the military. They’re just plain platinum rings, but specially made to set up a special band of telepathic communication between a trinity. Just the three, though the brass of course can snoops on thoughts when they want.
S’why we’re considered freaky, mostly. There are other reasons, but that’s the big one. We mostly get it for the way we never talk to each other – the trinity I mean. We talk to other people, no choice there. But why would we bother talking to each other when the bond we have makes it so much easier and clearer? There’s no way to describe it, really.
Technically we only have to wear the rings when we’re on duty, but once we get used to it rarely does a SCAU take his ring off. It’s just…you don’t do it. Why would you want to?
Strictly speaking, the rings only permit the sharing of thoughts you want to share. It doesn’t open the mind or whatever the fuck you want to call it. Just creates a private band in which the trinity can talk. But rumors ever fly about how the closer a team is, the more thoughts they share, until the private band is gone and they’re simply mind to mind to mind.
I guess I could explain how the rings work, but I don’t fucking feel like it and there’s some classified shit even I won’t fuck with.
Anyway, the rings enable limited telepathy. Now you see why everyone calls us creepy? No? Think about it for a minute – and it ain’t my strong point so if I can manage it so the fuck can you. Things slip out in the heat of the moment, when lives are on the line or tempers flare. One stray thought that can’t be taken back, a section of the mind opened to your comrades whether you wanted to let them in or not. And once it’s opened, it’s a lot fucking harder to close it up again. It’s plenty freaky, the first time it happens and you realize just how much you’ve laid bare. But before too long, your greatest fear is not having those other minds blending with yours. It’s…something else. Civis think we’re freaks, even most of the regular military thinks we’re just as bad as the Jackalopes we keep away from the planet, but that’s only because they don’t know what they’re missing.
Of course, even civis don’t knock the Legendary.
The story goes that the Legendary had a bond that surpassed everything SCAU thought it knew about bonds. They were so close it was like they were three parts of one mind. People talk about soulmates and shit, like it’s something spiritual and profound and all. I don’t think so. A soul is what makes you different from every other body on the planet, and those differences are built by life yeah? Your family, where and how you grew up, how you think and feel. I guess you could see that as something glowing and shining deep inside somewhere, but makes more sense to me that’s it’s just the mind. Sharing your every thought, every feeling? Go as deep as the Legendary and you really do become one. That’s a soulmate. I don’t care what the fuck anyone else says.
So the Legendary were as close as it’s possible for people to be. Not possible, brass says. Such a bond would drive them insane. All the studies say so.
But the night before they vanished, they seemed plenty sane to me. I’d say there a fuckload more stable than the rest of us. I might be biased thought – no one likes to see his brother go from international hero to being reviled as a traitor, and an insane one at that.
They were always the Legendary to civilians, some of the few SCAU that werent’ treated as complete pariahs. Still called that by civis, though sometimes nowadays most are changing it to ‘Legendary Traitors’ – thought not where I can hear them.
We don’t call them that. Anyone is SCAU calls you by your given name or something stupid like that? Punch him. Unless it’s Plague – kick him in the nuts. Hard.
SCAU don’t go by any name but the ones we’re given when finally made part of a trinity. We would never call a team we all but worshipped ourselves by something so goddamn pussy as Legendary. No, we used their real names – what civis and other military would call a codename maybe, or a call sign.
My team and I aren’t what my brother was, where the bond is concerned. But my brother said he thought we would be, someday. It was one of the last things he said to me. The next day they were gone.
Fucking hell, when they vanished I was asked every goddamn question the brass could motherfucking think up – five times. For all the goddamn good it did them. Do you – do they – really think my brother and his team would have told me of all people what they were up to?
Fuckwits.
We – my team – didn’t learn until just a few hours ago why my brother and his team did what made them traitors.
I never doubted for a minute my brother was anything but a SCAU pilot. He’s always been an Armor. Because it’s not a job to do for fame and fortune, not really. Being a SCAU is more likely to ruin a career, and I don’t mean by getting you killed. We do it for the rush at first; most of us were fighter pilots or the like before joining up to work with CA. But eventually we do it for the bond. When you leave SCAU, the ‘marriage’ is dissolved. Most of us would rather die in space than live without that bond for a few seconds.
Anyway. This ain’t my story, no one gives a fuck about me and that’s the way I prefer it, but I am the one telling the story so I guess you need to know something.
I was born Stewart Gray, born and raised in the southern part of Grand America. I joined up with the military and spent years as a fighter pilot – the details ain’t important. Eventually it led to NW-P3 SCAU, which I was good enough to be given an invitation to join. I was twenty-seven when I was finally made part of a team. I’ve been Sleet ever since. I’m the pilot. Snow is our nic, Ice our tec. We’re the team for CA Whiteout.
My brother’s name was Winkin, and he was a pilot. Their nic was Blinkin, and the tec was Nod. They were the team for CA Old Moon, and they were the greatest SCAU team to ever live. This is why they turned traitor.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 04:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 05:15 am (UTC)*fangirls madly*
Date: 2006-03-07 04:54 am (UTC)You. Are so my new hero. Seriously, I didn't think there was a soul who could make the whole armor suit thing seem interesting in writing, and I'm so glad you proved me wrong.
*hearts madly* The swearing!!! I love the swearing. XD I don't know why I love it so much (other than it does give such lovely color to Stewart) but much loves for the way he speaks through all of that.
I love the way you explain the different aspects of what's happening too. (I like how you deliberately don't explain certain things too. *glomps*)
Hee!! *bounces happily* I knew there was a good reason I was staying awake. ^_______^
Seriously, you rock. So rock. *tackle glomps*
no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 05:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 05:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 05:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 06:43 am (UTC)This just blew my socks off. *grin*
Goferit!
no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 10:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 12:10 pm (UTC)"few SCAU that werent’ treated as complete pariahs" <- weren't
no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 03:42 pm (UTC)...
*is speechless with awe*
*hearts story* This is my new favorite! I'm so glad you decided to show us! I look forward to learning more about why they became traitors whenever you write more! :)
no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 05:58 pm (UTC)I can understand how the story would be intimidating. You so much as mentioned it being a war story and my heart went, "Oh fuck. Poor Megan." My suggestion on that would be to cut corners where you can. Meaning: if a battles, not really important, but you want it in there, cut to th very end or leave off at the very beginning. And, mention battles, talk about the terrible dog fight they just had, but you don't have to go into detail on the exacts as far as "the mecha swerved right, the missile followed on its initial trajectory, blah, blah, blah, fourteen pages of Alison's eyes glazing over" just say, "it was a hard fight, they walked away with minor injuries."
Und, disjointed scenes could be fun. =) I'm leaving out tons of stuff in the fanwork I'm tinkering on while here in Austria, just because it bores me and I want to get the story completed ASAP.
One last thing --- you just made Butcher, Baker, Candlestick Maker OT3 slash sooo much easier. XD!
no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 11:30 pm (UTC)This story is excellent so far. I find that if a thing intimidates me it's because it could go very, very right. I love the characterization! The narrator says his opinions don't matter but I found I was almost instantly drawn in by his brash statements about how it is to be part of a team. Please continue and would you mind if I friended you? It would make the story stalking easier on my part :)
no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 11:38 pm (UTC)^__^ I hope this is a good story. Thank you! Friend away!
no subject
Date: 2006-03-08 06:31 am (UTC)Also, the tone is amazing, and I really want to know more about, of all people, Plague. And why Sleet keeps bringing him up. :p
no subject
Date: 2006-03-08 11:06 am (UTC)Heh ^_^ thank you
Plague will come up again. He's the bane of their existence.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-09 06:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-10 03:51 am (UTC)Continuation of "Never Afraid Are We"
Date: 2006-03-12 05:06 pm (UTC)How soon can we expect chapter '3'?