Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In 1975, nine years before the Quintesson invasion, it was the waning years of the space race between the United States and the USSR. Not long after the end of the Vietnam war came the Apollo-Soyuz Test Project, where both major space programs attempted to dock together for the first time. After it’s success came further joint missions and projects to be had in what was dubbed space stations.

It wouldn’t be until after the end of the Cold War and war against the Quintisons had started that the then American Vice-President and Russian Prime Ministers would make plans for a new space station after the previous failed attempts, this would come to be known as the International Space Station.

The ISS sits in a low Earth orbit, intending to be a laboratory, observatory and factory along with roles that were added in 2010.

It’s initial intentions would be adjusted to fill the need of the different mech based organizations on Earth attempting to retrieve data from the alien invaders, to decipher where they were coming from or at the very least what they are. These attempts have so far been limited in success.

Six mecha pilots have attempted to follow the stream of data received by the ISS from the unknown invaders to potentially end this decades long conflict. All six pilots have lost contact with Earth. Another ten pilots are scheduled to follow the same data in the next five years.

Pilot(s): 3141, 6986, 17741 for Arcturus Three, plus medical officer RH.

Pilot(s): 12437 for Arcturus Four, solo mission.

Pilot(s): 555, 1060, 4341, 17740, and 3113 in suit eleven for Arturus Five, the last projected mission.

—

Two Years Post Arcturus One - One Year Post Arcturus Two

The pilots were sitting backstage, leaning around a small table talking quietly, “I mean, there has to be something they aren’t telling us.” Sitting back, the pilot lightly scratches at his implants, it was a habit most pilots who’d nearly faced rejection picked up after a while, “I mean no offense, but I thought we were all told that our seniority would be the judge of these missions.” Nodding some, another one of the pilots sighs, “We were initially told that, yes, but certain things must be accounted for.” The other pilot threw his hands up lightly.

They all were staring at each other, they couldn’t help it, “Alright, I’m not the only one who thinks it’s weird that this mission has me, one of the designers of our suits, the best female pilot on the planet, and supposedly a medical officer.” He kicked his feet up on the table, sending the tablets and papers on it flying.

He winced, “Uh, sorry, but seriously. This can’t be a normal mission, not like Arcturus one or two. I still don’t think we know all the details for those either.” Finally, one of the other pilots leaned forward, “No one is making you do this Roddy.” The other pilot grins before shrugging slightly, “Think of this as an adventure.” Then another pilot then spoke up as well, “A mission where it is likely you’ll be able to catch fire as often as you desire.” He chuckled at his own joke.

“Now that sounds like fun.” ‘Roddy’ had a killer smile and was unafraid to display it.

—

The media room was packed with reporters, as it always was for any mecha announcement but another packed room because it was combined with a NASA announcement. As per-usual, Swindle was wearing his overly charming smile while some government schmuck was talking the ears off the reporters.

It was almost easy to zone out, to remember the past and how the fight felt in those earlier years that these government geeks loved to reminisce on. Like the one next to him was currently doing, hemming and hawing over details that 99.9% of people didn’t care about.

Sighing deeply, Swindle shifts forward in his seat, “I am sorry to interrupt you Rick, but uh, we do in fact have a time frame to fit into, so if we could wrap up the science and make way for the pilots that would be great.” The NASA expert, Richard something, quickly shut up.

Scratching lightly at his jaw, Swindle smiles his award winning smile and stands, adjusting the microphone, “Well, it’s good to see all your familiar faces again. Welcome back to the Kennedy Space Center, we’ve got some exciting news for today.” Several hands were already in the air, but he elected to ignore them, “We have the absolute pleasure of introducing the crew of Arcturus Three and their spacecraft the Iliad, which yes, I know that was supposed to come before the Odyssey but we didn’t think we’d go with the mythology aspect till after the first shuttle was painted.” A few reporters chuckle and others keep their hands up.

It took a moment for him to take a breath and gesture to one of the reporters with their hand up, “You,” she smiles and stands, “Lillian Carmichael, The Wall Street Journal, are you going to talk about the loss of pilot 2672?” Nodding slowly, Swindle takes a breath, “His call sign was Cliffjumper, that was his name, not his number Lillian. They are people who are giving their lives for our planet, there is no greater sacrifice. So, no, we aren’t going to talk about Cliff cause his family will be watching this broadcast and it’s hard enough to miss him then to hear us talk about his sacrifice as if it meant nothing.” Clearing his throat a bit, he nods.

“Now, we’re here today to introduce the crew of Arcturus Three and their spacecraft.” He smiles and steps to the side, a projection lighting up behind him, “Meet the Iliad, the newest version of NASA’s space shuttle.” It looked nothing like the space shuttle and looked much more like something that would attach to the international space station, “Richard, you know more details on this.” Sitting back down, Swindle adjusted his hat.

This state of the art spacecraft was designed specifically for the transportation of mech suits and the study of the foreign enemy, from space of course. Swindle would not let another good pilot die cause they sent them up there with little to nothing.

The Iliad would be sent up initially in pieces, which would come together to reform the outer structure of the ship. Those pieces would remain in orbit where the rocket would be able to connect it and the suits necessary for the mission, while propelling the entire structure out into space. The pilots wouldn’t go up with the pieces, just their suits and the initial shuttle, it would give them more maneuverability in the long run and something for Mecha to maintain contact with when all the pilots kicked the bucket, again.

It was a horrible thought, Swindle knew this but what other choice did any of them have at this point? These things were getting bigger and badder, and in the two years since Arcturus One the number had gone up by another thousand pilots. Most of them died in compatibility testing in other countries, but that didn’t take away from the fact that there were another thousand dead pilots and nearly another million civilians.

The man from NASA lightly cleared his throat, “Sir?” “Hmm?” Glancing back up, Swindle smiles, “Oh, my turn again? Great.” He stands back up, smiling brightly and adjusting his suit jacket.

”Ladies and gentlemen, now I have the absolute pleasure of introducing you to our pilots for Arcturus Three!” The door to the side of the stage opens and he extends an arm, grinning as each pilot comes out to their name. “Pilot 3141, callsign Perceptor. Pilot 6986, callsign Hot Rod. Pilot 17741, callsign Arcee. Along with their medical officer, code name Ratchet.” The four people come up to the stage and take their seats, dressed in NASA gear.

—

Swindle was talking on and on, about the differences for this mission and how nothing like Arcturus Two would happen to this group and blah blah blah.

Currently, Jesse was twirling a pen through his fingers, running his tongue along his teeth and very clearly bored. A few reports snapped pictures, which he was almost smiling for without even trying. His look was very reminiscent of IceMan from Top Gun in that moment, bored and full of potential.

The female pilot to his right was quick to snatch the pen from his hands, whispering harshly, “Would you stop that? This is a press conference.” Cecilia put the pen back on the table, just out of his reach with a scowl, “We’re meant to look professional.” Jesse tried not to smirk, whispering back, “Yeah, I don’t think you reprimanding me is helping that case much Arcee.” She went to open her mouth again before just scowled and shifted her attention back to the speaker from NASA.

Now there was a pilot who knew what she was doing, Arcee had come to the program more recently than most. At least more than those still alive. She had made waves protecting Washington DC and the Chesapeake area in the last four years, for a lot of people it was like she had come out of nowhere.

Those in the program had known her and her mentor for longer, though she was young, too young to get the implants up until a few years ago. Now, she was leading in this year's kill count, even as others were falling and the survival rate of pilots was dropping. Originally, she wasn’t scheduled for an Arcturus Mission till the fifth one, but certain securities must be taken.

Afterall, you needed someone who knew how to fly that was mentally stable enough to do it.

Preceptor was the only other pilot on the stage and he was taking notes of everything that the engineer from NASA was saying, biting the end of the pen every time the speaker took a breath. He’d worked on this project from both sides and was keeping track of what was being said, compared to what was actually happening. The man from NASA wasn’t entirely accurate.

It still dragged on before questions were finally allowed to be asked, at which point Swindle stood, “Let’s stick to the guidelines people, you know what you can ask the pilots and what you can’t. Keep it PG if you can.” Most of the reporters laughed, not realizing the last bit was for the pilots on the stage.

Several hands went in the air and questions were being shouted in every direction, “Hot Rod, why did you sign up for Arcturus?” “Preceptor, Sir, why have you decided to become a full time pilot?” “Arcee, what do you think the commander will think of this change of schedule?” “Hot Rod, are you sad your other group mate Springer is not on the register for these missions?” “Arcee, are you prepared to fly such an experimental spacecraft?” “Preceptor, why do you think you’re going on this specific mission?” And they went on.

—

The workshop was dark except for an area in the corner, where an older man was working by the light of a desk lamp, a large wrench was leaned against his chair and his hair was tinted with grey.

Swindle closes the door with a bang, hands in his pockets as he starts over, “You were missed at the press conference.” The older man grunted in response, rolling his chair back while lifting the obscenely large wrench, moving over to another workbench and turning on a small lamp there.

It left a soft glow on his scowling face, sighing, he looked up, “What do you want, Swindle?” Smiling, Swindle heads over slowly. The whole space was generally kept tidy but lately it looked like a bull had been let loose in the china shop, “Just to talk about Arcturus Three.” Ratchet groaned.

”I don’t know why you keep pestering me about the project, and honestly I don’t appreciate you interrupting my work.” Swindle lightly kicked something out his way, humming, “Because you’re a part of the crew for this mission Ratchet. You know that.” Ratchet set the wrench on the table, likely so he didn’t swing it at Swindle’s head.

Moving over, Swindle leans against the edge of the desk, “You know why you have to go Doc.” Ratchet scowls and glares at Swindle, “Shouldn’t it have been my choice?” Smiling sadly, Swindle shrugs a bit, “It would have been, had you not taken that thing into your little workshop here.” There was an angry rev from the dark corner of the shop, Swindle loosely waves his hand, “Oh shut up you overgrown pile of bolts. Look, the only safe place for that thing—““His name is Deadlock.” Standing, Ratchet jabbed a finger at his chest.

With a nod, Swindle removes his hand and scratches at his old implants, they’d been capped years ago but still would itch with scaring, “The only safe place for him is as far from Shockwave as he can be, we both know this.” Slowly, he lowers himself onto a nearby stool.

Ratchet stared and shook his head, “He’s been plenty safe here.” Swindles laughs, “Has been and will be are two entirely different statements and you down well know it. If Shockwave gets so much as a whiff of him, he’ll do worse than dissect him, he’ll dissect you for protecting him. And we both know I can’t stop him.” He adjusts his blazer slightly, shaking his head.

Swindle had tried to fire the psychopath more than once, on a number of grounds, even his own torture but the congressman was far to popular and the government footed to much of the bill. His constituents footed most of the bill. Sure, not having to worry about putting his own money into the company made him a bit more at ease but that didn’t take away whatever the hell Shockwave was.

“Shockwave wants to move into a bigger lab space and we’ve bought the plot next door, there is no way your friend there would be safe and I think it’s best if we stuck with human technology torturing us all. Not whatever the hell he is.” There was another angry rev, though it sounded much more like a growl. Swindle nodded slightly and put his hat back on, “Plus, Roddy is going on this mission. It’s starting to get around that you and him have grown close because of experimental tech.” Ratchet’s eyes widened and he glanced towards Deadlock, hidden in alt mode in the dark.

Taking a breath, Ratchet looks back, “So, you’re launching me into space to face certain doom then?” Swindle shakes his head, “I’m sending you after who we’ve lost.” With a scoff, Ratchet stands and heads back to his other work space, “I can’t believe this.” Swindle followed, “Neither of you are safe if you stay.” The growling started back up, accompanied by a voice, “I can keep us safe.” Swindle glared at the car, “Like hell you can! Not against a man who has been working on the mecha program longer than most pilots have been alive!” He turns back to Ratchet.

A loud bang drew Swindle’s eyes back to Ratchet, who had slammed his project against the table, “We can handle that threat.” Swindle laughed, pulling at his hair peeking out from under his hat, “You can’t. This is the man that convinced Blurr back into a suit, the reason why Vortex is the way he is, and a monster unafraid to do whatever it takes to reach his fucking monsterous goals!” He jabs a finger into Ratchet’s chest, “He wants all of us dead Ratchet! He doesn’t even see it that way, but he is willing to kill every living thing to end this war!” He grabs Ratchet’s shoulders and starts shaking him.

The sound of grinding metal and shifting gears was loud, but Swindle didn’t let go of Ratchet, “He will kill you and that thing that is your friend if you don’t go! And I won’t let him kill the one person who tried to save us!” Trying to catch his breath, Swindle stared at Ratchet’s wide eyes, “Rusty, I can’t let him kill you. I owe you my life and I will fulfill my debts.” Ratchet rolled his eyes slightly before resting a hand on Swindle’s shoulder, “Alright, alright.” He sighed slowly, letting go of Ratchet and taking a step back, adjusting his blazer.

Turning, he could have shit his pants as something almost as big as a modern mech glared down at him.

Ratchet’s hand came down and rested on Swindle’s shoulder, “Relax kid, he’s just trying to protect us in his typical asshole kinda way.” The thing growled again, “Like I said, in his asshole kinda way. Breathe and go back to recharge.” It grumbled before turning back into a, well, it looked like an EMT chase vehicle.

Nodding slowly, Swindle sighed, “We both know Shockwave would want his hands on that kind of—“”You say technology and he will shoot you.” Nodding again, Swindle adjusted his hat before looking back to Ratchet, “You fly in a year’s time. I can get him up on part of the Iliad as soon as next month, but it does need to happen.” Ratchet sighed and nodded, “We’ll talk about it later.” Swindle nodded before starting back towards the door, touching his implants briefly, “I meant it Ratchet, I owe you a debt and this is how it’s going to be paid.” Then he left.

—

It was late and the warehouse was empty except for a few pilots and their mechs being fitted with new gear, but that would start in the morning. At the moment, Hot Rod, Arcee, and Preceptor were sitting around a small table eating take out.

Jesse was once again twirling around what he was holding, though this time it was a chopstick, “I want to know why they have sent five people on this mission and with one missing our mission isn’t potential recovery.” Cecilia sighs before shaking her head, “Cliff is gone Roddy and I don’t think anything is going to bring him back.” Percy hummed, setting down his food for a moment.

It took a moment for him to figure out how to phrase what he was going to say kindly, “Cliffjumper was a strong pilot but not one built for solo missions, I think sending him on Arcturus Two was their easiest way of getting rid of the problem child.” Jesse snorted and Cecilia hit his shoulder, he deserved that.

”I’m being serious Percy, Cliff is either dead or wishing he was, and I don’t wish that on anyone.” They fell quiet for a moment, Percy picking his food back up and Roddy stabbing his chopsticks into the sushi on the table.

A door across the hanger from them banged open and a familiar face came strolling in, white coat a stark contrast to the dark space as always, Jesse looked up and grinned, “Ratchet, come on, we got your favorite.” He moved over slowly and grabbed one of the chairs, turning it before sitting in it with the back of it against his chest and grabbing his takeout container, “Thanks kid.” Percy smiled a bit, “It was Jesse’s idea for us to do this tonight.” Rusty hummed.

It had been two years to the day since the launch of Arcturus One, one year since Arcturus Two and a year from this day would be their own launch.

Jesse popped a piece of sushi in his mouth and started talking, “So, why the four of us? I mean, I know Springer wasn’t found compatible for this specific mission but I know some of Breakdown’s brothers wanted to go. We all know Aid’ was supposed to be on this mission, but uh,” They all shifted a bit uncomfortably, “And Jazz’s brother wanted on but he got stuck with like, Arcturus Five, right?” Cecilia nodded, sighing.

Clearing her throat, Cecilia sat forward, “We know why suit eleven isn’t going,” “It’s too heavy for the Iliad to carry it up.” Percy nodded slightly and Arcee rolled her eyes, “As for everyone else, I don’t think we’re going to know. I think we’re just going to be kept in the dark on that front.” Jesse rolled his eyes and Rusty nodded.

The older man sat forward, “I think dwelling on who could have been on this mission is the wrong move, we can see who is going to be on it and now we’ve got to figure out not only how to work together but how to understand each other.” Percy nodded and Cecilia shifted a bit in her seat.

Pilots were not team players typically, not since, well, regardless they weren’t team players anymore.

“I still think it needs to be said and asked, why us?” Roddy gestured around with his chopstick, which he went back to twirling through his fingers. They all glanced at each other and honestly, none of them knew why this group was paired together.

Cecilia shifted again, “Well, I’m the only one who knows how to fly, so that’s a bit of a given. Ratchet is medical as well as he can work with Preceptor, the Iliad is an experimental spacecraft.” Percy nodded, “Very experimental.” She smiled a bit and looked back to Jesse, “So the only one in question is you Roddy.” He was quick to throw a potsticker at her, “Can it Arcee, who asked you?” Ratchet chuckled, “You did.” “Oh shut up.” He was pouting now.

Rain started to hit the metal roof, leaving a soft ringing sound throughout the hanger space. Three suits against the wall with tool boxes around them and supplies across the way; new seals, paint, and upgraded tech were all called for. Soon, three of the four of them would have to go through the next steps for their suit upgrades with the upgrades to their integrated tech, even before the NASA training would even start.

It was daunting and scary, but in the moment of the four of them sitting around a commandeered workbench covered in takeout, talking like tomorrow would be the same as any other day gave them all some bit of relief.

They would take off three years to the day from Arcturus One.

One year, counting down to July 10th 2016.

———

Chapter Text

In the two years since the launch of Arcturus One, the world had changed and not necessarily for the better in every case. The increased number of attacks was starting to frighten the public and there was still no discernable end in sight.

From the time that the crew of Arcturus One, there was a never ending stream of news worthy events;

On July 18th Detroit declared bankruptcy, Prince George was born on July 22nd, September 16th led to 12 deaths in D.C Navy Yard, both Serena Williams and Sebastian Vettel claimed their fourth championship titles on October 27th, and Nelson Mandela died at 95 on December 5th.

In 2014, on February 22nd ‘El Chapo” is apprehended, Malaysia Airlines Flight 370 disappears on March 8th its 200 people aboard; confirmed non-Quintesson attack, an avalanche kills 16 on Mt. Everest on April 18th, in October Malala Yousafzai wins the Nobel Peace Prize at the age of 17,

For the first part of 2015, on January 20th a musical by Lin-Manuel Miranda hits the stage called Hamilton, a pilot intentionally crashes a plane and kills 150 on March 24th, April 25th holds a 7.8 earthquake which kills thousands in Nepal, Ireland legalizes same-sex marriage on May 23rd, and same-sex marriage is then legalized across the United States on June 26th after reaching the Supreme Court.

The world kept turning and events continued occurring. Hundreds of thousands of innocents were killed in the time post launch. Miami, Edinburgh, São Paulo, Sanghai, and Stockholm were all coastal cities which faced attackers between the summer of 2013 and the summer of 2015. Further multiple inland cities were attacked. Over a million civilians were confirmed dead with another million or more remaining missions. Billions in property damage were done.

There had not been a moment of rest for 90% of pilots across the world, many of the experienced pilots with more than a year of service in have started experiencing overuse while new pilots attempt to reach the survival rates of the first and second generation pilots.

The third generation of pilots has only a 3% survival rate.

—

Most of headquarters was quiet, all the engineers working away in the warehouses and everyone else was watching the attack off the coast of New York. Three mecha were assigned there currently, which was a drastic increase from even a year ago.

The number of attacks was increasing rapidly and the number of new pilots was too, even though only one or two new suits were made every year. That number was only really replacing the suits that faced a catastrophic failure. The number of new pilots was trying to replace those lost in catastrophic failures too.

They were starting to lose this fight and there wasn’t a legitimate way forward, everything they tried was just getting more people and pilots killed each day. The only hope that currently was held, laid in the hands of the Arcturus pilots.

People were even loosing hope in that, after the public announcement of Cliff’s disappearance and then the lack of information released the further Arcturus One was getting from Earth. There was a few conspiracy theories about that crew, some people were pulling together the released footage and comparing it to the last few years, saying it was the same.

Not very many people know that Arcturus One was also technically missing, certainly it was kept from the public and their families, but a few pilots knew. How could they not?

Jesse was walking through the halls of MECHA, trying to find literally anyone to talk to. Ever since the announcement it felt like other pilots were avoiding him like the plague, other than those a part of the mission. Maybe they were starting to be seen as bad luck, he really couldn’t tell you.

All of the offices he’d been to were empty, most of the staff watching the attack on New York as if it were a sporting event. To be fair, they had to watch the attacks to ensure that the suits didn’t face a failure or start machining parts before they got back. It was becoming more and more stressful to be a mech engineer.

Brushing a hand through his hair, Jesse peaks into another office before sighing deeply, it was a ghost town. Turning back around, Jesse starts towards the hanger, it wasn’t the place he really wanted to go but he couldn’t stand being alone while an attack was happening.

It was hard for most pilots to sit and watch the attacks, new hardwiring instilling a strong desire to be out there fighting, a new instinct. Jesse certainly wasn’t the right person to talk about it, maybe Percy, it was loosely explained at the beginning of compatibility testing but who really paid attention to that.

—

Nine Years Ago - March 2006

There were certain things about this world that felt like they were falling apart and rebuilding at the same time, mostly cities and people. People were trying to rebuild their lives and cities were trying to rebuild everything else. Jesse Nelson, sixteen, had seen the cities around him fall and rise then repeat the cycle.

When you grow up in the ruins of a less than cared about city, it’s something that becomes normal, watching everything around you be rebuilt while nothing changes for you.

Oakland California had been almost burnt down in the first attack on the bay, what little was rebuilt was where most of them lived. Even twenty something years later. There were clear road ways and a few schools, it was labeled good enough.

Jesse had grown up in the rubble with his mom, dad having died in a different attack, but the two of them were enough in his eyes. With his backpack slung over his shoulder, Jesse was making his way through to school, ducking under the breezeways built into town.

It was mostly washed up convex boxes from the port that they were using to protect the major thoroughfares for the city.

There were a few of his classmates loitering in the dark, more than likely reading the news or making illegal bets on the next battle. It made Jesse’s skin crawl sometimes, seeing how people forgot that most of the suits that were trying to save the world had people inside of them.

With a deep sigh, the entrance to his high school was mostly blocked, pulling his bag off he tossed it onto the security table before lifting his arms up to go through the metal detector. Security around the so called next generation was high, even from themselves. No one could bring in anything metal, flammable, or sharp.

When the scanner beeped, Jesse couldn’t help but swear and a few other people who lined up behind him laughed. Stepping aside, his bag was grabbed by the security guard and he shuffled off to the side, it would be at least thirty minutes before he’d be let in.

Lowering his head, Jesse stared at the floor, scowling at it.

The metal detector went off again behind him and not even looking up, he slid along the bench to make room for whoever was behind him.

After a minute, when no one joined him, he looked up and back towards the security checkpoint.

A man stood there in the nicest suit that Jesse had ever seen, wearing a bright smile, and for a long moment, Jesse wondered how he got here without being mugged. He was still talking with the security guard, hand in pockets, smiling and looking around at everyone as they went through security. His eyes wandered over to Jesse and paused there, smile turning more so into a smirk, before looking back at the security guard.

“What’s his crime?” The man pulled a hand from his pockets, hooking his thumb towards Jesse, “He set off the metal detector, we have to wait for the principal to clear him.” The man just simply shook his head, “He’s with me.” It took a moment for the security guard to actually respond, “Sorry?” His smile returned, “He’s with me,” he looks over and gestures, “Come on kid, I’m springing you.” Jesse gawked before grabbing up his bag to follow.

That was the moment his life changed forever.

The man started into the school and towards the gym, Jesse just caught up, “Uh, who exactly are you and why am I with you?” With a light shrug, the man tucks his hands back into his pockets, “I’ve gone by my call sign for the better part of my life, so call me Swindle.” Jesse whistled lowly, “Damn, that’s unfortunate.” Swindle grinned.

“Yeah, I hear that all the time, so kid, what’s your name?” Jesse sighed deeply, “Jesse.” Swindle nodded, opening the door to the gym for him, the door was blocked off by a curtain and the room was dark, “Well Jesse, I think you may want to sit in on this assembly today. How old are you?” Ducking under the curtain, Jesse looks around slowly, “Sixteen.” Swindle hummed, “And family?” Jesse glances back, “It’s just my mom and I, why?” Nodding a bit, Swindle ducks under the curtain and looks around the space, “Cause I think you’ll want to sit in on this assembly.” He moves into the room.

Slowly, Jesse follows, looking around the darkened gym, “What’s it for?” Swindle checks the podium and picks up a packet from it before offering it to him, “MECHA is recruiting, offering benefits for your family, college education rebate, the works. If you’re found compatible, you could be the person that saves your city next.” Taking the packet, Jesse stares at it, “Wow.” He opens it and stares at the number on the first page before moving to sit down, getting out a pen.

Swindle smiled sadly, watching as he had done dozens of times, as someone far too young signed away their life.

By the time June had rolled around, out of the hundred and four students who had signed up for compatibility testing, less than a hundred passed the written test, then only six passed the full testing.

—

Each hanger had a slightly different layout, the one at headquarters was the largest and could hold twenty mecha. At present, it only had the three Arcturus Three suits plus suit eleven. Vortex was still going through reconfiguration after the catastrophic glitch that had happened with Felix behind the wheel.

Jesse, Hot Rod, wandered in and tried for only a moment not to swear before shaking his head, “Fuck man, I was hoping for pleasant compant.” Rusty grumbled, checking through a tool box, “And I was hoping to be alone.” Jesse grinned and walked over, stealing the stool to sit on, “What are you doing here man? Thought you only agreed to be on the Iliad if the people here left you alone.” Rust hummed and closed the lid to his tool box, looking up.

He frowned lightly, “Kid…” to be honest, Jesse looked exhausted and hadn’t been sleeping well. His own reformatting was scheduled a few days from now to adjust for the new tech in his suit, “I’m fine Ratch, just tired.” He attempted to lean back and nearly fell off the stool.

Rusty was quick to grab hold of him, “You’re dead on your feet, you’ve been wandering around avoiding TV’s, haven’t you?” Rolling his eyes, Jesse resituates himself on the stool.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Rusty grumbled before grabbing the toolbox, then the front of Jesse’s shirt, “Come on kid, we’ll both get away from the news for a while.” Jesse shook his head, “Hey, come on Ratch.” But Rusty shook his head, “No.” and kept pulling.

Jesse stumbled a few times, trying to get Rusty to let go of his shirt and nearly slid in the mud once they were outside.

The familiar sprinter vehicle brought Jesse a bit of relief, knowing he wouldn’t be alone with Ratchet did make him feel a bit better, glancing at Rusty he was finally let go.

He almost dove into the passenger seat, “Hey trouble.” The engine purred lightly, a small screen on the dash lighting up.

“Hey yourself, fragger.” Jesse couldn’t help but laugh even as Rusty got in and scowled at the screen, “Both of you, behave.” Shaking his head a bit, Rusty puts the tool box in the back seat and buckles in, “We’re just going back to the warehouse kid.” The engine revved lightly before they backed out of the space.

The cab turned comfortably cool even with the humidity outside, the ground soft from that morning's rainfall.

All news on the radio stayed off.

—

One of the suits was destroyed, two of the pilots died, and one was in the hospital under critical condition. They were losing and not quickly, but a slow and agonizing loss.

Arcee had watched the attack from her barracks, a nearly empty room besides for a handful of cots, a futon which she sat on, and the old school CRT television in the corner. The space wasn’t much, but it was home, the same as hundreds of other barracks had been to thousands of pilots.

It was hard to help it, she held her head in her hands by the end of the massacre. It was painful, watching those you cared about get utterly destroyed. Most pilots tried to get to know each other, even if it was for the comforting thought that you’d have at least one person at your funeral.

She’d known Daniel, his dad and grandfather had been pilots too and now they all were gone.

Leaning back slowly, she drags a hand through her hair and sighs shakily. This way of life, the people you had the pleasure of knowing, was getting harder and heartbreaking.

They were dying faster and younger, surviving a year or two was becoming a rare state of affairs and anything more than that was making you a legend. It used to be surviving more than five years, there were only a handful left that survived ten years, who were still alive at least.

Picking up the legal pad that was on her coffee table, she stares at the pilots of the previous Arcturus missions.

To be perfectly honest, she didn’t know most of them very well besides Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, that was only because the twins were such characters. Breakdown was a legend in the east, but most of his family was. Then there was Hound, he was the model of a hybrid-class adaptation. Cliff was, well, Cliff. It was hard not to know the guy.

Even with all of that, before she had become hybrid-class herself, being in the rescue class didn’t leave much interaction with striker class pilots. Especially not in her patrol region.

—

Washington DC was projected to be an early target of the Quintessons; name still unknown on Earth, invasion.

It being the capital of the first country attacked, there was a lot assumed back then. A warehouse was built quickly and ready to be equipped with anything from military units to eventually mecha suits.

Three strikers, along with three rescue class were scheduled to be in that area at all times. As the years passed that number dwindled to two strikers and one rescue.

It had taken Arcee years to be allowed to test for compatibility, her mentor blocking it for ages, until Arcee had finally seemingly accepted the fate of being unable to test. Of course once his guard was down she went in for the written test in New York on an off weekend and when she came back with a near perfect score, even he couldn’t block compatibility testing.

Compatibility testing is something no pilot would ever willingly repeat and they choose to rarely speak on it, or their experiences with it. According to some related pilots it was slightly different between them but it was not a commonly talked about subject that would go into detail.

Acree of course, had passed with flying colors, which made her a prime candidate to be in the rescue class with a ‘score’ that high. The higher compatibility the more drastic the class.

DC had been beautiful once, before the war, though now it was just the bare essentials and what wasn’t was put up by the civilians for the sake of it being broadcast every other week.

The day not long into her career where both strikers were incapacitated and she was the only thing standing between the enemy and civilians, well, she pushed her suit to do things it wasn’t supposed to do.

It was meant to be a bright sign of hope, in its shining white and pink, that day it was stained green and was mostly broken when it was all over.

Her career as a rescue had been short lived, too much potential to waste it, even when her friends and family begged. The light white and pink traded for grey and fuchsia, not perfect but hers. Her suit and life, the work for the sake of the world, it was a calling for some like Acree and a demand of others.

—

His fist had left an imprint on the metal table in front of him, it was bleeding and he tried to ignore the light electrical shocks shooting into his fingertips.

All the scientists and engineers had to watch the attacks, had to watch the suits and people they put together for this be torn right back apart time and time again. It was for the sake of science, or so said Shockwave.

Perceptor scowled at the screen, shifting his glasses back up his nose. His hand was bleeding lightly, but both were shaking.

It was painful to watch the suits of fellow pilots be torn apart, it was painful to watch all the hard work that he’d put into it be destroyed, the funding wouldn’t let him repair and replace that exact suit and neither would Shockwave.

Someone new and more horrible would have to take its place.

Rubbing between his eyes, Percy’s glasses were shoved up on his forehead. Taking slow and deep breaths, it was hard. This job was hard and there was nothing that he could do about it.

Turning off the monitor, he sighed slowly before standing back up, shoving his glasses back on and moving across the workshop.

Shockwave was not in the lab today, last seen stalking around after Swindle and Blur for whatever reason. It was his newest pastime and most of the engineers didn’t seem to miss the man in the welders helmet.

It took a moment, standing there and looking around at everyone else who was still watching the attack for Perceptor to remember that he needed to breath. Lightly scratching at his implants, he bites his lip slightly before retreating for his locker.

Most of them wouldn’t get it, they saw their hard work being destroyed and the loss of some acquaintances, maybe friends. But for Percy, it was different, it would always be different.

His implants itched from the anxiety of it all, one of the many side-effects he’d experienced in the last few years. The implants that started at the base of his skull, like many pilots, to the extension wires that ran from them down to his hands.

On the days when he was nearly pale with illness, the wiring was almost visible through his skin.

Grabbing up his bag from his locker, Percy was trying to keep breathing evenly. Trying not to panic. There were very few he would willingly be around when in a state like this and he was thankful that they were part of his Arcturus crew.

The lock slammed back into place as he started down the hall.

Though his bag hung at his side, his bleeding fist was wrapped around the shoulder strap, he couldn’t think about anything but the past.

—

He’d been found compatible when he’d come over to the United States, looking for work in the field after he got truly tired of the mess in England’s system. Percy wasn’t a soldier and didn’t want to be. Not for the British army, not even remotely.

With his mother being from India, it was more than just a sore spot for them, and he tried to move past it.

Science had always been a big interest of his, miniature microscopes and wiring kits were the toys of his childhood. Labeled the nerd very young but content with the quiet reading time and long hours at home.

When he was young and his parents had worked with one of the few private companies for mecha design in the UK, they had lived in London, the first few attacks on the city had never reached the deeper parts of it. Not close enough to the post-war apartment blocks he’d called home.

It was the attack of 97’, when Percy was ten, that sent them to the countryside. As if the war was again sending children out of harm's way but it was him and his mother. He would always be grateful that she came along, even after the train lines were destroyed and contact with his father was limited. So long as he had her, it was easier to bear.

Being the nerdy one out there, that had been harder, and being the son of an immigrant made that even worse emotionally. Life isn’t easy for those who chose the path that they did, but he was thankful for it, grateful for it.

Through primary and secondary school, Perceptor just kept his nose down and walked the halls like a shadow. It was where it was comfortable and certainly where his bits of happiness lied. Though university is where he thrived, electrical engineering, nuclear engineering, mecha design, physics, and computer science. Just to name some.

It was the job offer from MECHA in the south-eastern United States that changed it all, the written test in the contract was just a bit of fun to it all.

He’d rather never mention his compatibility testing.

From there, it was just doing the work and loving the work. Even though his work was often destroyed in battle, there was too much effort and care put into it to give up. Arcturus had simply stared him long and hard in the face, before his name joined the list of dozens of pilots.

So many of which were no longer with them.

He knew, deep down, that there was something they could find out there, he just had to see it for himself.

—

The warehouse was loud with both Deadlock and Hot Rod in the secluded corner. Ratchet was currently working on a piece of equipment, hopes for more things that could hide the kid when they were launched into space. It was idiotic, sent to space to die when staying would lead to death regardless.

There was a crash and both the kids behind him swore, he sighed slowly and lowered his head to the worktop.

This wasn’t going to work, there was no way that they could get Deadlock into space without the other pilots finding out. Him and Perceptor going was bad enough, but adding the kid into the mix was just making everything more complicated.

One of the doors at the front of the shop banged open, “Rusty, I would appreciate a word, did you watch the attack, I—“ Everyone in the space stood frozen, staring at each other.

As if the day couldn’t get any worse, Ratchet moved over and pulled Perceptor in through the door, slamming it shut. So much for the big no trespassing sign Swindle insisted that he had, he’d had more visitors in the last few weeks than he’d had, well, ever.

Hot Rod was gawking and Deadlock had dropped his obscenely large hands in front of the redhead, angry that Ratchet was out of his reach and conversing with the outsider, the stranger.

Perceptor was staring, though his hand was throbbing where it was still bleeding, Ratchet took one look before slowly directing him back across the space, “We are going to discuss what you see in a moment, the fuck did you do to your hand?” Ratchet shoved the poor scientist down onto a stool, none-to-gently.

He was still gaping like a fish when Deadlock started to growl, “I, I hit a table.” The staring contest dragged on.

Swearing, Ratchet went about wrapping Percy’s hand, being careful, shooting looks that screamed, ‘Shut the fuck up’ over his shoulder and Deadlock continued to growl and his hands muffled Jesse’s voice.

It was going to be one very long night.

Chapter Text

The idea of first aid in space travel has been around since they first started sending humans up on rockets, astronauts have to undergo extensive medical training to handle any potential emergencies in the zero-gravity environment they face.

Specific medical equipment was developed and has become essential for zero-gravity, such as portable defibrillators and compact ultrasound machines. Wearable sensors for heart rate, blood pressure, and oxygen levels became necessary for tracking data.

Contact with other astronauts and Mission Control are important for not only physical but mental health, with limited resources of sending up physicians and psychiatrists.

Space medicine research is a still developing field with experiments and research being done from the International Space Station.

It is essential that every astronaut before beginning their journey, no matter the duration or destination, go through assessment for a number of things; cardiovascular health, bone density, vision, hearing, and mental health status.

The need for medical professionals in space is ever growing with the further exploration efforts, research in need of expanding and an ever expanding horizon.

—

Ratchet had been right about the very long night, his head was aching as he fought with the coffee pot. Truthfully, he had a rule against making coffee while Jesse was in the workshop but with Percy there it was hard to deny the need. They’d been up since the attack yesterday, mostly waiting on the full casualty report but also Percy was interviewing the so-called interloper.

He was trying his hardest not to bang his forehead against the counter.

“Why don’t you have one of my translators set up?” Groaning, Ratchet turned and looked over.

Deadlock was still protecting Jesse, though the pilot was now perched on the aliens shoulder instead of behind his clawed hands. Perceptor was standing in front of them both, hands on his hips and staring up at Deadlock, “My translator is able to perceive vowels in words and syntax to make semi-accurate translations that can be adjusted by the users.” He was frowning, “It would make this significantly easier.” Tilting his head to the side, he goes back to circling, again and Deadlock growls again.

Yeah, he wasn’t sure why he wasn’t slamming his face into the counter.

With a sigh, he poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and turned, “Because asking you for a translator would have been suspicious and we made it work.” Shrugging lightly, Ratchet eases himself onto a nearby stool, wincing slightly before sipping more coffee.

Percy’s eyes flick over then he stop circling and moves towards the makeshift food area, “Well, I wouldn’t have asked, but you’re not entirely wrong either.” Ratchet watched him get his own cup, slowly turning to face Deadlock instead.

The look he’d been getting for the better part of the night was one of mixed worry and betrayal, as if he’d invited Perceptor over. Clicking quietly, Deadlock motions to him and he shakes his head, “No, I am not coming over there to hide from Percy, for fucks sake.” Closing his eyes, he sighs slowly.

Deadlock growled again and Jesse laughed, “Oh don’t be like that, Ratchet has been up most of the night, it’s rough on him.” With almost a pur, Deadlock returned to his pouting. Pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a deep sigh, Ratchet turns back to Percy.

Whose eyes were still examining Deadlock like a science experiment and Ratchet scowled, “Percy, give it a rest.” Humming, Perceptor finally brought over his own stool, sitting down and frowning into his coffee.

”Shockwave can not find out about this, uh, Deadlock as you call him.” Nodding a bit, Ratchet stared at his own coffee, “It’s bad enough the pilots are his new test subjects, I don’t want to put him through that.” Gesturing weakly towards Deadlock, “We have to get him onto the Iliad before we go up. I can’t keep him hold up in here and if we have another incident like tonight.” His words died off.

There was nothing else to be said on that front, if Shockwave found Deadlock, they’d either be at war or the poor mech would become an experiment.

His eyes wandered back to Deadlock and Jesse, his heart aching, “His kind are at war too, at least I think that’s what he said.” Percy nodded, glancing over and catching Deadlock’s eye, he started to growl again. Cracking a smile, Perceptor shook his head a bit, “He hates me.”

It took Ratchet a moment to try and smile, “He hates scientists.” His heart clutched painfully again, “And I don’t blame him for that, not one bit.” Perceptor sighs, “I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones. Albert Einstein.” Sighing, Ratchet drags a hand through his hair.

They’d all designed the suits in one way or another, “Fuck me.” Percy smiled and nodded, “In a way, I’m glad we’re all flying to our deaths, better than fighting those freaks with sticks and stones.” Rubbing his neck, Ratchet sighed and nodded.

”We need to figure this out Percy, we’ve not heard actual news from Arcturus One in ages and don’t play the crap company card with me, it’s the same footage replaying over and over.” Percy winced and rubbed at his implants, “Yeah, uh, these missions are meant to put out a relay satellite to send back the data they get.” Nodding a bit, Ratchet finished his coffee with a bit of a scowl.

Sighing, Perceptor hangs his head, “You have to know we lost contact with them after two weeks. Then six months for Arcturus Two, the success rate for these missions is sitting at zero.” With a shrug, Ratchet nods, “I know what I signed up for, kid. So, what the hell are we doing talking about the enviable?”

He shrugged weakly, “If we’re bringing an alien with us which is already complicated in itself, three of us have suits that are actually planned for, and who knows where the previous crews have gone. They're just disappearing, so we need to be able to defend ourselves. Entirely.” Humming, Ratchet stands and moves back towards the coffee maker, “I don’t have implants, I’m not compatible.” Percy chuckles.

”You don’t need to be compatible with what I’m thinking of.” He stopped pouring his coffee and swore, “Perceptor, I am old and tired. I have an alien that follows me around like a lost puppy and a pilot that does the same. The last thing that we need to consider is how I will defend myself against the Kijus.” Perceptor gets up and moves over.

Resting a hand on his shoulder, Percy leans in, “You’re going to like it, I promise, and your alien over there might like it as well.” He groaned and put his face in his hands, “I should have left you outside.” Percy’s arm rested around his shoulders, squeezing them tightly.

In only the way a pilot could now, “Relax Rusty, it's just to keep you safe and keep your oversized mechanical cat from killing me in my sleep.” There was another growl behind them.

Yeah, it was decided, he not only hated it here but truly wished he’d slammed his face into the workstation. If not to kill him, to at least have knocked him unconscious.

—

They took to meeting most nights to work, the three of them plus an alien, and every night that went by the more often Celia’s name passed their lips. But then Deadlock would growl and it was dropped again.

Three quarters of Arcturus Three were working on a project to protect a mechanical alien that reminded them all of their own suits, without their leader, their captain at the helm. Certainly they had all made smarter moves, but Deadlock needed to be in space before they went into their three months of isolation and as much as he would hate to admit it, Ratchet’s suit needed to be finished as well.

The design was one of the coolest things that he’s ever seen, it was the assistance suit on steroids. All of it had been approved by Shockwave and NASA, but Percy and Ratchet were building it themselves with certain precautions.

Sure, they all knew they were basically flying to their death but that was beside the point in this. The longer they were able to stay alive, the better.

Everything from the oxygen reserves, to the defibrillators built into his hands, in place of striker suit magnets, it was truly a work of technological art. Then the white and red paint scheme of a rescue unit wrapped it up all in a nice bow, though Ratchet’s complaints were a bit annoying. This was the closest the old man would ever get to being a pilot, he thought it would be cool.

Jesse was at present sitting on the top of the disguise unit that Deadlock was supposed to scan. He had been on Earth, hiding as a muscle car and then an emergency response vehicle for a while, now he was going to be a massive piece of moving equipment for Rusty.

Just another thing they were making for this crazy trip, but this one was almost more necessary, to keep Deadlock safe from Shockwave. A shiver ran up his spine.

The mech behind him was clicking and purring, the translator set Jesse was supposed to wear was currently buried under some things on Perceptor’s workbench. He hadn’t meant to break it, but still managed to. So he was just nodding along to the foreign language, watching the engineers work.

Several clicks were followed by a groan from Ratchet, “No, this will not be something you can drive. It’s just for transport, we’ve talked about this.” The headset was large on Rusty’s head, adjusting the microphone a bit and Deadlock purred before clicking and beeping.

Deadlock wore a small magnetic something against one of his ears, Jesse didn’t really know how it worked but it was sending the translations directly into the headsets.

“You said that you can put yourself in stasis, that’s the plan and we’re not changing it just because you’ll miss us. If you’re asleep then you really won’t.” Pausing, Rusty put down his tools, “Alright, alright. We’re taking a break.” Removing his headphones, he rubs at his neck.

Jesse glances over before climbing down from the box, stretching, “You hungry? I could run to get us food from the cafeteria. Percy, you hungry dude?” He leaned around the box to stare at the man who was welding, something, fuck only knew what.

With a solid smack, Percy wears as his head hits a metal bar, “Yes, thank you Jesse. I think it’s protein bowl day anyways.” Giving him a thumbs up, he walked across the room and grabbed up his keys, “I’ll be back!” And the door slammed shut behind him.

Humming to himself, the walk to base wouldn’t have been terribly long, but it was more fun to ride the motorcycle. Sliding over the seat, he pulls his helmet from the handlebars. It took him a second to fix his hair before pulling the helmet on, it was so similar to his own assistant suit, that it never felt claustrophobic.

Backing up carefully, Jesse turns over the engine and revs it for a moment before tucking close and speeding towards command.

Mecha, Georgia was never a place he imagined living, not even for just a short time but it was where headquarters was so it is where he was. At least for a few more weeks before they went to the isolation chamber run by NASA.

Tucked close to the bike, Jesse was hugging the curves of the road, trees blocking his view of buildings. Or better known in the county as the compound. This place had been here longer than he’d been alive and it would probably outlive him too, but it was where suits were built or more often rebuilt, along with where the scientists lived.

A shiver ran up his back as he came up to the gate, flicking up the visor on his helmet for a retina scan. It was easier than pulling out his ID card, before the gate opens and he pulls in.

The compound was massive, it had to be to maintenance or at least maintain up to ten mech suits. Along with their pilots and have a space for testing, there was also the mundane aspects of it; offices for engineers and administrators, the labs that Shockwave ruled over with an iron fist, and only the people stationed on this coast normally knew.

Pulling into his parking spot, Jesse removes his helmet and slides off the bike casually, humming again. If it weren’t for Arcturus, he wouldn’t have come here but he’d known Jazz back when he was a new pilot then he heard the hatchet was signing up to be a medic on scene and the rest was history.

Sighing, he scratches at his implants while walking through the hanger. Their suits were all being worked on, getting prepared to be in space.

That was a cool thought, massive space battle against the alien menace. Sounded like something out of the movies.

Saluting vaguely to a handful of engineers, he kept going towards the cafeteria. Drumming his fingers against his legs, this was why he was a striker over any other class, he was far too hyperactive to be a hunter and impatient to be a tanker then rescue was completely out of the question.

He couldn’t help the singing under his breath, “Dare, dare to believe you can survive.” It was a staple of his childhood, one of his dads favorite songs. His mom would play it whenever she was sad.

Grabbing up a tray, he kept banging his fingers against it while sliding down the line, picking up the things that sounded and looked good. Placing two orders to-go at the main counter, glancing around the space before grinning, “Hey, Acree!”

Celia was talking with another pilot and a few engineers, smiling and laughing while drinking some coffee. She glances over, “Hey, Hot Rod, where have you been? I haven’t seen you in ages.” Smiling, he lifts his filled tray and walks over, “Here and there, you know how that is.” Setting the tray on the table, he sits next to it on the surface.

She laughs and shakes her head, “Normally, yeah, when we have our suits but we’re not meant to be going too far.” He waves it off, popping from blueberries in his mouth, “Yeah, I haven’t been far. Over at the hatchets workshop is all.” She hums and nods, stealing one of his bread rolls.

Smirking a bit, he shrugs, “You should swing by, we’re making the doc a bunch of cool space stuff, well him and Percy are.” She shakes her head, smiling, “Some other time.” He shrugs and shifts to focus on his food instead.

—

It was late, just shy of two in the morning when Cecilia called it a day. Walking away from the hanger, leaving her toolbox in her locker. She really was supposed to call home that night, hence the long night in the first place.

Last thing she wanted to do was hear about home, when she’d probably never see it again.

Sighing, she drags a hand through her hair and brushes her fingers over her implants. Closing her eyes for a moment.

She had wanted to be a pilot her whole life, lived and breathed everything to be a pilot, snuck off for compatibility testing and now they were sending her to die. All because the original quote-unquote captain was unwell. Which, she felt for Felix, it was obvious whatever happened that day with his suit had been intense. The poor guy was still in the hospital and suit eleven was in the back of the hanger.

Hitting the access, she goes into the room she was staying in in the dorms, rubbing at her eyes. It had been a painfully long day, even with the good conversation she’d had with just shy of everyone in the complex, even Jesse had swung in at lunch time. Sitting down on the bed, she takes her phone from the charge and looks at the messages.

Most if not all were from her mentor, groaning, she puts it back on her nightstand and puts her head in her hands.

They were a few days shy of the first launches for the Iliad, the pieces that weren’t the ship they were taking were starting to go up and all she honestly wanted to do was be back out in her suit. Defending the innocent, not exploring the void of space.

Groaning again, she gets up and grabs a hat, starting back out of the dorms.

There was no way that she’d be able to sleep there, not in the pit that was headquarters where everything would drag them down mentally. Maybe Jesse was right, maybe spending some time around Rusty’s workshop would do her some good. Getting to spend some time with the people she’d shortly be going into isolation with.

Isolation sounded like hell, being from the rescue class originally she was already around a lot of people, more extroverted than the typical striker class but rescue class were less needed than they used to be. She was a better striker anyways, but she dealt with the public a lot less.

Slipping out of the dorms and heading for the woods, she went at a jog, glancing towards the science building for a moment. The lights were still on, there had been a compatibility test earlier that day. Around twenty people had showed up, three had passed even with the low level now.

The screams were always so loud, even when you were working on a mech or in a group, the screams of a compatibility test were distinct. She could remember how it felt, how it sounded, everything about it. No pilot talked about it in interviews, you honestly didn’t know what to expect unless a family member went in for testing.

Sliding down the slight hill, there was a fence and a road between her and the warehouse, nothing much to be bothered over, but still annoying.

She smiled a bit as the familiar response vehicle pulled into the warehouse, Ratchet and his mystery boyfriend. It was always nice whenever the guy dropped him off or picked him up, especially after the agonizing meetings with Swindle or Shockwave.

However, the moment Ratchet got out and the thing changed, she stood frozen and staring. Hot Rod ran up to greet them both, if it was a both but the thing looked so similar to a suit and she froze as whatever it was looked right at her. It’s eyes were bright and terrifying.

Nothing like the visors of all their suits, these were actual eyes, that were staring into her soul.

Whatever it was leaned down and said something to Ratchet and Hot Rod, who both looked her way as well, though the trees blocked enough of her to hopefully not be noticed.

”Hey! Hey Arcee! You came!” But leave it to Jesse to have eagle eyes. Swearing and stumbling back, she glances around, “Come on! We’ve gotta get inside!” He kept yelling and waving.

Looking over her shoulder again, “Alright! Alright.” It wasn’t exactly like she wanted to go back to bed anyways. Swearing again, she keeps going towards the warehouse even as the prototype suit goes inside, pulling the big door shut behind itself.

Quickly scaling the fence and glancing down both sides of the road, she runs across, before Rusty and Jesse had hold of her arms, “Welcome to the Arcturus secret headquarters capitan.” Jesse’s smile was too bright and Rusty’s hold nearly painfully tight.

The inside of the warehouse was loud, from that thing moving around to the sound of welding, “Uh, Jesse, what is that?” She didn’t want to call it a thing, in case it could understand her, but still was thinking it, “That, is Deadlock, he’s an alien.” Jesse dodged the swift smack from Rusty.

”Yeah, uh, great.” She stared, “Why is it here?” The men on either side of her shared a look, “Well, he’s our friend, and we're getting him off Earth on the Iliad.” She instantly regretted asking.

—

Perceptor spent day and night working, more intensely than he had in ages but there was a distinct deadline on all of it. Three months before take off, they needed to be said and done with everything, it needed to be on the first ship that would form the ring on the Iliad.

It needed to be done so he was working, even when everyone else wasn’t or was busy, he was working. It reminded him of his early days working for MECHA. How he had to do a lot of his own plans for himself, to himself, the bone deep exhaustion that would drag him down.

At least here he had Rusty’s help along with Jesse and Cecila’s company, then the alien who growled in the corner. It was hard if not impossible to build trust in someone who had so much trauma based in science. He could see why Deadlock had quickly gotten along with other pilots.

“You know Percy, you get this look on your face whenever you’re about to break something.” Rusty’s voice was deep and calm with age, the patients in the medic and scientist was shocking.

Right now Cecilia and Jesse were talking quietly with Deadlock, headphones over their ears and blocking out the worst of the noise he was causing, “Sorry, I was just lost in thought. We need this stuff done tomorrow and I don’t know if it will be.” His hands shook lightly before he balls them into fists.

Smiling sadly at him, Ratchet rests a hand on his shoulder, “Close enough is better than nothing, just because we’re going to Texas tomorrow doesn’t mean they have to be perfect. Deadlock will scan the machine tonight and my suit is good enough. We’ll see it all in a few months' time.” Nodding slowly, Percy set down his tools and sighed.

Dragging his hands down his face and rubbing his implants, they ached with lack of use, he hadn’t even been in a simulator in the last month he’d been so busy. This was all so important, important towards their survival up there. Who even knew what happened to the previous crews, what had happened to Jazz all those years ago.

Ratchet’s hand rested on his shoulder, “Alright, enough. We all need to get some sleep before tomorrow.” Standing slowly, he patted his shoulder before going to get the others.

Percy sat there, taking slow, deep, calming breaths for a long moment. How were they going to pull this off?

Chapter Text

NASA astronaut training is highly specific, they are meant to complete two years of intensive training before any specialized mission training is going to start.

All NASA astronauts and international astronauts go to Johnson Space Center in Texas to go through the intensive training to prepare for any extent of space travel. The selection process starts after the initial stage, their “boot camp”. Where the trainees are educated in shuttle and space station systems, along with a variety of other disciplines.

Everything from simulators, aircraft training, medical training, and the neutral buoyancy lab are held at Johnson Space Center. Other training includes wilderness survival trading, robotics training and procedure preparation. They are prepared for any potential outcome and or emergency that could or would happen while the astronaut is in space.

The designed training programs are to prepare the astronauts for the strange circumstance that is microgravity, to prepare all future astronauts for the vastness of space.

It is an ever-expanding program as more is discovered not only about space but space travel.

For MECHA’s collaboration, pilot training has a great deal in common with astronaut training. In the collaboration agreement, there was an understanding in which the two year training process was waived as pilots were still needed between then and their mission.

Arcturus holds a special place in the collaborations, as all the mech suit pilots are only considered astronauts upon reaching space, rather than while in training. Not labeled as astronauts in training as those going to the ISS or other NASA sanctioned missions.

—

It had been a long night, even after Rusty suggested that they all get some sleep, to call it good enough, he’d couldn’t help but put in more time, more effort. Even as Deadlock had breathed down his neck, probably trying to get him to stop but it just wasn’t what he’d be able to do.

This had to be perfect or they would all disappear in a more painful way than they were already expecting.

He’d spent the rest of the night welding and adjusting each piece, over and over, trying to ensure that the tool box would both work and hide Deadlock, if either didn’t work they were screwed.

When the sun shone through the space, he managed to doze against the workbench for a while. Only waking up when the space was blinding, with a blanket draped over his back and the first crews coming to load up their gear into trucks. His heart stuck in his throat from that moment till they were in the helicopter, till they landed.

Space suits were uncomfortable at best, miserable at worst, especially in the heat. He shifted about in the boots a bit, taking slow and deep breaths, “Fuck me,” Jesse chuckled lightly next to him, still stretching out a bit. They all looked tired, but at least some of them were able to wear smiles.

Looking around slowly, they were hiding just out of view of the stage, next to the building they were about to spend the next three months in. Brushing back his hair a bit, Percy rocks back on his heels before forward on his toes.

Breathing, he adjusts the sleeves on his suit as Cecilia looks around, “Alright, we smile, we wave, we go in and relax. Take the day, watch the news, then move on. Start rehearsing for the mission. Sounds good?” He nodded, Jesse clapped her shoulder and Ratchet grunted.

They were one motley crew of pilots, well, three pilots and a medic. Technically, one hybrid-pilot, a striker, a scientist turned pilot, and medic scientist. Yeah, that was more accurate.

Climbing the stairs, he sighed shakily and moved towards his marker on stage. Different pieces of colorful tape, each chosen as if made to match their suits. Even Ratchet’s assistance medical suit. He stopped and turned on his marker, trying to smile.

The flash of the cameras were blinding, the sheer noise level was grating and he was running on only thirty minutes of sleep in the last two days. Of course, there would be plenty of time for sleep on the inside but right now he was exhausted, bone tired. It was hitting him now, standing in front of all these people. Coffee had only withstanded him so long, now standing here in the hot Texas sun while wearing a space suit was not his idea of fun.

Then again, his idea of fun freaked out most people.

Standing on the small stage in front of the isolation door, he was trying to not pick at the scarring on his hands that had become a nervous habit. It had been a nervous habit since he was young, the picking, but now it was at the scars he was creating for the sake of research.

Each scar was slightly different, all from different times and different attempts to make it perfect. The scars went from nearly the ends of his fingers, up his arms, across his shoulders, slightly down his back, then up into his implants. They all represented a different breakthrough in compatibility sciences, even as he pulled at the healing skin.

More cameras flashed painfully as Percy shifted from foot to foot, face remaining neutral while Swindle rambled on about their mission and purpose. Truthfully, all he could think about was Deadlock and the box he’d designed for him. The crude thing to transform into and wait in, just to ensure keeping him out of Shockwave’s reach.

If he fell into Shockwave’s hands, he wasn’t sure what would happen to him or the lives of new pilots, neither would be good.

Sending Deadlock up into space, by himself for three months to ensure that he was safe, that was the priority. This alien thing that reminded him of their suits, how he loved, how they moved, it was eerily similar, but Deadlock hadn’t been on-planet that long. Certainly not since the beginning of the next gen suit.

He was the priority, because he was Rusty’s probity and whatever the doctor thought was right, usually was.

Ratchet’s hand grabbed his wrist then pulled his hand back, as his skin was welling up red from the scratching and picking, “Breathe Percy, this is just a press conference. We’ll be inside soon.” Nodding slowly, he tried to take slow and deep breaths. Shifting his glasses some, he focused on Swindle for the moment.

”That is why these missions are so important, though we mourn the loss of Arcturus Two, we know that the answer can’t be found here. It will be found up there, where we can level the playing field with these monsters. If we can get answers, then the war will be ours to win.”

Swindle knew how to talk to a crowd, to convince them that they knew what they were doing, that any of this made sense. None of it did, but desperation was the word everyone was trying to avoid across the planet. Desperation was biting at their heels, same as the kaiju were, same as Shockwave was.

The scientist that had his hands in everything, he wouldn’t say control because if that were true then everyone would start to see it. No, he would merely suggest and things would change.

He was standing at the back of the crowd, dressed in his old senator persona, he’d been so young when he’d been a politician. Answered the call to his country to become a pilot, then a scientist, now a madman but one in disguise. One he had been foolish enough to follow all those years ago, that and the money. Desperation was the word that had already fallen from his lips, years ago.

The grip on his wrist tightened again and he nodded slightly, taking several more breaths. Glancing towards the others briefly, their different states of composure.

”Ladies and gentlemen, the pilots of Arcturus Three!” Swindle threw his arm back towards them, and they all waved. Though Ratchet kept hold on his one arm, so they waved with opposite hands. His breath was shaky as his eyes landed on Shockwave again, who smiled softly and waved back.

He looked like he was waving goodbye, then again, they all knew what this mission really was.

—

This was why he’d tried to leave the program, to stop working with the military and MECHA, because he knew in the long run it was wrong and it would get him killed. Both had never been more true.

His feet ached, this suit was one of the most uncomfortable things he’d ever had to wear and the boots were not helping. Neither was the stage if he was being honest.

That stage had been quickly built, even with all the lead up to this day, with three months till take off they’d been planning these events for almost two years. Yet it was still built at the last minute, like everything around them. Quick and easy, up then down.

The only things that weren’t new were the NASA buildings, they’d been here for ages, not painted camouflage to try and prevent attacks, it didn’t always work but it was the best that they currently had. Everyone knew the kaiju couldn't see terribly well, but it wasn’t full proof. This whole setup reminded him of the war fronts he’d seen in old films and news footage.

Old wars when they were only fighting each other, not the unknown. When the only thing you really had to fear was humans and their engineering.

Of course, he’d never fought in either, too young for one and not compatible enough for the other. Not that he resented it, he couldn’t imagine being a pilot, not now not ever. Shifting a bit and trying his hardest not to tug at the collar of his spacesuit, Rusty scowled at the flashing cameras.

They shouldn’t be out here in the open but when did Swindle ever listen to him. At least the man tried to have his back, but now he was going to space, as if that would keep him safe. Out of reach maybe, but no, it was one of the swiftest ways to die instead.

Trying not to groan or complain too much, they all stood there on the stage like the money bags they were in this moment. The scapegoat, the security that MECHA needed in the ever evolving world and this god forsaken war. Shifting, he kept hold of Percy’s arm, the poor guy was panicking.

Logically panicking, but it was clear to him. It was probably over Deadlock, who he desperately hoped was just waiting on the tarmac, waiting to be loaded into their storage carrier for the Iliad.

Sighing slowly, he nodded as they all did and turned, watching one of the workers from NASA open the overly large and heavy door to their isolation chamber. There wouldn’t be cameras inside that filmed for the public, just one or two for those in ‘Mission Control’, really just those sitting watching them and making sure none of them would have a mental breakdown.

Not like poor Cliffjumper, the jackass, a dead jackass but regardless the man didn’t have many friends among this group.

Climbing through, he nearly stumbled on the lip and Cecilia catches him briefly, “You alright Ratch?” Nodding, he tries to crack a smile, “Never better Captain.” Her smile was also small but full of care as they moved to help Jesse and Percy through. Briefly standing together to wave to the cameras outside before the door closes in their faces.

Like a sealed tomb.

But it felt like he was able to breathe better once the door was closed, moving to sit and remove the worst of the space suit, Pulling off the pinching boots with a sigh, “One more show then we’ll be free of here.” He rubbed his neck after pulling the ring back over his head, slipping out of the top section of his space suit with a sigh.

“If it were only one more show, we’d already be on the shuttle.” Perceptor sat down and took off his glasses, rubbing his face tiredly, “This all would be over and we’d be with the others.” He hummed and nodded some, sighing and closing his eyes.

Jesse glances around and claps his hands lightly, “So, who's hungry?” They all glanced up and stared at him for a long moment, though his smile didn’t waver. Shrugging weakly, Ratchet pushes up and starts over, “I’ll at least make some coffee.” Slowly, the others followed.

—

It was hours before the television flicked on inside, they’d all managed to get some rest and were starting to settle in, the four of them when it flicked on to nearly full volume. He’d been quick to turn it back down at least before collapsing back on the couch where he’d been napping only moments before.

Groaning and brushing his hands through his hair, Jesse sits forward and watches, “Hey everyone, they're prepping the carrier ship!” Kicking his feet up onto the coffee table, he grins a bit and crosses his fingers.

Cecilia was over first, landing on the couch next to him and sitting cross legged, leaning back, “Please, please don’t blow up on the pad.” Turning to her, he gaped, “That’s horrible.” Shrugging, Arcee sighed, “I’d rather hope and pray for it to not happen then just wait for it to.” Shaking his head, Jesse looks back as Rusty and Percy moves over.

Slowly, they all sat and started to watch.

They were together, sitting together, watching the screen intently from their bubble. Their bubble of an isolation chamber, it wasn’t much but it could have been a lot worse. For the idea to be this was meant to help them be stuck together on a spaceship, it could have been a lot worse.

It was nearly painfully dull in the chamber, since he wasn’t piloting the ship or manning any major station, but it could be worse.

Jesse was trying his hardest to not lose his mind. Watching the broadcast was helping a little bit, even if it was rather dull.

Typical countdown for a space launch, it wasn’t happening far from where they were at this very moment, but the fact they had to watch it over a screen rather than be there was very strange.

Ratchet’s hand squeezed at Perceptor’s shoulder, Arcee leaned her head against his arm and they sat quiet.

”Do you think we’ll see them loading it on?” He wanted to ask about Deadlock, but knew for the poor guy's safety, he couldn’t; “No, they’ll have loaded everything as soon as it got here.” Percy’s voice didn’t waver, but was flat. The guy was beyond tired, but they still had to watch, to know he made it there safely.

Nodding a bit, he sighed slowly and fidgeted with his hands awkwardly, watching anxiously. God, this was unbearable, his leg bounced. Rusty glanced over and reached out a hand, which he took and held, “We’re going to die, aren’t we?” This was something he didn’t care if those behind the testing saw, “Yeah, probably.” Rusty’s voice was strained and he squeezed his hand.

Damn those who decided they needed them all out of the way. Everyone from Jazz to the twins to Cliff and now them. Too much of a pain to keep around and all of them are heroic enough to volunteer like the stupid shields they tried to be. For all he knew they’d have strapped the old man's ass to a rocket if they hadn’t locked him out from the suits.

Glancing at Cecilia, he could see it on her face, the same train of thought. Or at least almost the same train of thought.

Closing his eyes, he sighed slowly, the burning in his chest cooling as if he were about to fall asleep. The anxiety was tearing him up inside, remembering his own past with Shockwave. Everything from the initial promises, the lies, the torture. He had to know Deadlock was going to be kept away from all that.

Opening his eyes, he looked at Ratchet and Percy, knowing that they’d done all that they could to keep his friend safe. If it wasn’t for Ratchet, he’d have never met one of his best friends and now they were watching him be launched to space. To protect him. So he can watch them die effectively, but at least he’d be away from the monster.

—

She held her breath during the countdown, from a minute, to thirty seconds, to the last ten seconds countdown. She couldn’t help but hold her breath, if this didn’t work their mission would be postponed and her crew's friend would be dead.

The alien, Deadlock, was still a pretty big unknown to her. Only a little while had passed since they met, but she knew what the scientists of this planet were looking for. Better than most. the next big breakthrough for mech technology, a way to end this war.

To not entirely lose.

Because everyone knew as of right now, they were actually losing and no matter how many suits or pilots they threw at the enemy, it wasn’t saving any more lives than it had in years past.

They were starting to lose more civilians than before and it was dragging them all down. She hadn’t even really known Jazz, knew of him, was friends of friends as it has been but when she’d been changed from rescue to striker there was so much more she wanted to do.

Her time of being an asset was short lived and she knew that would be the case, hybrid-class usually are short lived. Both in their usefulness and their survival rates. It had been obvious when she was pulled from her region, then moved up on the mission rosters.

Asset to liability.

She could only breathe again when the ship was in the upper atmosphere, when Hot Rod was cheering next to her and Ratchet’s breathing evened out. Leaning back, she stared up at the ceiling for a long time. Even as the broadcast ended, as Jesse went off to do god knows what.

As Percy stumbled off to get some sleep and Rusty wandered into the kitchen, she stayed, staring at the ceiling.

Three months of isolation for them, to prepare to go to space. How in the hell do you prepare your mind to go to space? She really didn’t have an answer.

Slowly rising, Cecilia moved out of their general living space and towards the pods. Where they’d sleep and she crawled onto her cot. It was probably only the middle of the day, but she couldn’t run a simulator right now or go through any of the binders. Not today, not right now.

Crawling under the blankets, she was out like a light.

—

Three months had never felt so fast, everything from that first day till now felt beyond fast and their connections had grown deeper. Though she was pretty sure Percy was going to kill Jesse, or Rusty would kill them all. She wasn’t entirely sure anymore but there was no way they were all going to survive this mission.

The space had grown disgusting in that time, of course, but less in a dirty way and more of a familiar way.

Anytime there was breaking news they sat together to watch it, any time a new attack took the lives of pilots they knew things would get broken, they had formed the familiar paths through the space and got used to having to be together in confining moments.

She’d spent a quarter of her time in the simulator for the actual shuttle, then another chunk with studying the binders but whenever there was a free moment, she was with the others. They were far more compatible with each other than she’d honestly thought they would be, but here they were, shooting the bull while packing up the few things they brought inside.

Sitting on the coffee table, she was grinning at Jesse as he sat upside down on the couch. Rusty leaned against the wall, while Percy was trying to read through one of the binders, again before they’d walk out. get debriefed, then briefed, before loading onto the shuttle. Onto the Iliad, she still thought the naming system they were going with for the big crews was stupid.

Odyssey, Iliad, and Aeneid. They one hundred percent thought of that at the last minute.

Shifting forward, she pulls her space suit back up and slips her head through the ring for the helmet, “Alright everyone, we’ve got about two minutes before that door opens again and we see other human beings for the last time. Focus up.” Each of the guys nodded and started to shift their own space suits back into place.

Though Percy was still trying to read the binder, balancing it on his knee.

Yeah, space suits were pretty uncomfortable and impracticable in their assembly.

Sighing slowly, she turns to the door and picks up her back, standing finally, “Everyone ready?” “Is no a appropriate answer?” Jesse’s voice was filled with his shit eating grin, “We can still leave you on Earth.” Shifting the bag up her shoulder, she winces as the door opens and light starts to stream through.

The lights in their isolation chamber cut suddenly as the door opens to blinding sunlight.

Except, they were expecting flashing cameras and dozens of reporters, instead, it was just a few workers from NASA, “Arcturus Three, welcome back. So, debrief is going to occur once you’re strapped into the shuttle.” Stepping out into the daylight, Cecilia winces, “Uh, why?” The staffers shared a look before they started walking, “Dr. Shockwave and the other scientists are currently out of the country, it was deemed that your activity inside was stable enough to institute an instant transfer to the shuttle. Plus, there is a storm system moving in which we intend for you all to miss.”

Glancing back at the others, clearly, none of them were buying it either. This, was not good.

Chapter Text

The fourth human spaceflight program of NASA (the U.S. National Aeronautics and Space Administration) was the Space Shuttle Program, which accomplished routine transportation from Earth to Orbit crews for thirty years.

In general, the space shuttle was composed of an orbiter with two solid rocket boosters and an external fuel tank; which could carry up to eight astronauts and 50,000 pounds of payload into low Earth orbit.

Upon reentry of the Earth’s atmosphere, it would glide to a landing either at Kennedy Space Center in Florida or Edwards Air Force Base in California.

It was the first reusable crewed space ferrying vehicle that was able to make multiple trips to and from Earth.

Two major accidents were registered during the time of the Space Shuttle program; Challenger in 1986 and Columbia in 2003.

In January of 2004, the retirement of the Space shuttle was announced, dependent on the rate of complication for the ISS (International Space Station). TO ensure that the ISS was assembled properly and safely, the Space Shuttle would be used for at least sixteen more missions which would resume in March of 2006.

Other missions would later be scheduled.

The initial decision for the Artemis missions was going to reuse the two solid rocket boosters from the Space Shuttle and four main engines, and the Orion spacecraft’s main engine was to be all previously flown Space Shuttle main engines.

Until the Artemis missions were postponed in place of the MECHA sanctioned Arcturus Missions. The Odyssey for Arcturus One being a traditional Space Shuttle in design, followed by the Iliad which the base structure being Space Shuttle like and the final re-design for the Aeneid for Arcturus Five.

Arcturus Two and Four would fly up on more traditional rockets that do not require the same level of space.

It is unknown when the shift for the Artemis program would take place.

—

Strapping into seats had never felt more stressful than in this moment, orange suits shuffling around awkwardly, before he pulled down his visor and took slow, deep breaths. Laying back in the seat, he tightens his seat belts before turning on his microphone, “Captain, any murmurs from headquarters yet?” When he was in the zone, he could be serious at least, and Cecilia sighed slowly, “Nothing yet Jesse, but I’ve got NASA on the line. We’re taking off with or without their clearance.” Nodding a bit, he grasps his straps.

How did Arcturus One just feel so calm launching into space?

His heart was in his throat for the moment as his headset clicked back on, “Alright crew Arcturus, we are going to be starting the launch sequence shortly.” Watching as everyone shifted around uncomfortably, they were supposed to have some time before this. Even if it was for the news and such, even if they’d said goodbye to the people they cared about already, this was a lot to take in at once. Digging his feet into the seat, he tried to calm down, glancing towards Percy.

The poor man had his eyes closed and looked like he was praying. That was not a good sign either.

Nodding a bit, he turns to his station and starts to watch the launch sequence instead, waiting. Sighing slowly and tapping his fingers against the belts on his chest, “God, let this be the right choice.” He’d never questioned anything Mecha had asked of him, had taken every mission he was ordered to and wrote his name on every dotted line. Maybe that was stupid of him, naïve even, but right now he was starting to regret it for the first time.

Even knowing he was facing death on this mission, as they thought had happened with the last two crews, at least he was supposed to be doing it for a good cause. Now, without communications with Mecha, it felt like they were flying blind.

“One minute till launch.” He was quick to mute his output microphone and glanced towards Percy, then Cecilia and Rusty, “Is this actually happening?” Percy slowly nodded and gripped his belts tightly, “Yeah.” Rusty sighed and shifted in his seat, “Kid, now is not the time for second thoughts. We’re on this suicide mission whether we like it or not.” He pauses, “It’s better than any of us being back on Shockwave’s operation table.”

The silence in the crew cabin was deafening.

“Thirty seconds.” Closing his eyes again, he leaned his head back against the chair and breathed slowly, “You know, there isn’t anyone else I’d want to die alongside then you all, so there are worse ways to go.” Rusty glanced back, “Jesse, shut up.” Nodding a bit, he smiled, “Shutting up.” But he kept his eyes closed.

There felt like an eternity of silence, “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. Lift off.” And they were all pressed back into their seats as the rocket pushed them up towards orbit. Jesse kept his eyes closed, and chose at that moment to pray.

As the radio crackled, everyone around him was speaking quietly, checking over their stations and he just ignored his, could not be bothered to look at it. It wasn’t exactly the most important for the lift off sequence anyways. That was Cecilia’s job as Captain, though he opened his eyes after a few minutes and slowly started to work at his station.

They were supposed to orbit before docking with the rest of the Iliad, then use the main rockets there to push them out of Earth’s orbit. None of it really made sense to him, but the people at NASA ensured that this was the safest Arcturus mission yet.

He wasn’t sure how much to believe when it came to that, but they were halfway to space already so there wasn’t a way to turn back.

Time felt like it was moving at a snail's pace, eventually they were able to unstrap from their seats, then remove the helmets of their spacesuits. They’d have to put them back on during docking but floating around in space was kinda cool.

Jesse was choosing this moment to try and relax, so floating upside down was helping with that. They were all smiling a bit at the hijinx, even Ratchet seemed to be excited about it, though he was pressed up to the windows, staring out at space.

Still no word from MECHA, which was becoming a worry he’d face at a later date he was sure, but right now the focus was on being in space, “Hey Percy, mind taking a picture of Cecilia and I?” Spinning a small camera towards him, Jesse kicked off one of the chairs and hugged Cecilia close with a grin.

Even Percy was smiling as he took the picture, “Alright, I am not afraid to admit that this is interesting.” Nodding with a smile, Jesse moved towards the front to look out the window, “How many orbits till we link up with the rest of the Iliad?” Rusty sighed slowly next to him, staring out the window, “Three, I believe.” Nodding a bit, as if he knew what that meant, he tucked into a ball and spun lazily.

Just trying to stay calm.

—

Flipping a few switches and adjusting the telemetry, she pulled the headset back on and turned on the microphone, “Mission control, telemetry positive and maintaining orbit.” There was a pause, “Roger, Arcturus, maintain the current movement.” Sighing, she takes off the headset and leans back. Dragging her hands down her face.

Most of the others had moved into the rest of the ship, it was safe with everything still being sealed off, the little bit of cargo the shuttle was bringing to the Iliad was strapped down so it wouldn’t flow around. That didn’t change the fact that right now they were basically drifting through space with just the initial mission notes.

Rusty leaned forward, just into her field of vision, “Arcee, take a moment and breathe.” Nodding a bit, she sighed and took a deep breath, “Yeah, I’m trying.” He forced a smile and clasped her shoulder, “Kid, this is just what we expected, what we were told to expect. It’s the waiting game, yeah, it sucks but we’re going to be fine.”

Nodding some, she shifts back over the seats and starts towards the hold, “Well, come on then. I think Roddy is making food.” Humming, Ratchet follows. Both floating through the hatch to a ruckus of noise, coming from a floating speaker.

Percy looked pained, while Jesse was shaking a silver bag, which probably had rapidly heating food in it. Ah, the joy of space innovation that would let them have a hot meal. Moving over to the microphone set up in the cargo bay, Cecilia was quick to pull the cord on it, “Oops.”

Now the only camera was the one in the cockpit and same with the only microphone.

Everyone smiled and Jesse kept shaking the bag, “Alright, we’ll have what I think is chili here shortly. Ratch, mind getting the door?” Chucking a bit, Ratchet moved over and adjusted the door enough to block the camera.

Sighing a bit, Arcee nodded, “Alright, so, the thing on all our minds. We’ll see him in a day at the longest, but we have to get in there and make it seem like the microphones and cameras broke when we connected. Percy, can you handle that?” He was already nodding, “I’ll be able to connect to the ship as soon as we dock, just need the right system distraction.” Jesse’s hand goes up, though technically down.

He was grinning, “I call dibs on being a distraction, how does a seat belt emergency sound to everyone?” She couldn’t help but groan along with the others. But his grin was wide, “I’ll make it work.” With a shake of her head, Cecilia moves over, “Alright, alright. I’m hungry, shut up and let's eat.”

Moving carefully along the strapped down gear, she moved and snagged one of the water pouches strapped to the wall. Spinning around carefully, she looked out at everything, at all of them.

They ranged in ages, in lives lived, and in every way possible basically. But they were all there, floating in space, and hiding one of the biggest secrets in the whole universe but she wouldn’t trade places for an instant.

To protect Deadlock, to have been protecting the innocent, to give Earth a chance, she’d choose this path over and over again.

Eventually, once they had all eaten, she shifted back to the cockpit to try and relax. If that was even possible, Jesse was listening to music through some headphones now, Percy was working on one of the computers to prepare for docking and Rusty was trying to get some sleep in one of the sleeping pods. She’d always find those still strange, floating in a sleeping bag inside a box, she couldn’t help but be grateful that she wasn't claustrophobic. Poor Percy was, slightly.

Closing her eyes again, she sighs slowly, “God, let this be the right choice.” Turning slowly towards the camera, she faces it, crossing her arms a bit, “Alright, so, this is not meant to be a direct transmission but fuck it.”

Nodding a bit, “So, might as well. This is Captain Cecilia Arnold of Arcturus Three. We launched July tenth of 2016. It has been two years since the launch of Arcturus Two and three since Arcturus One. I have been a mech suit pilot for six years this year, and made the wrong kind of enemies.” She glances towards the other side of the ship, sighing slowly before looking back.

”You're killing good pilots because we got in your way. You're killing a fucking phenomenal biomechanical engineer and medic, along with one of your own scientists, because we somehow got in your way.” Staring down the camera, her nod was slow and glare intense, “Someday, the people will find out about you and what you do, and you’ll regret getting rid of us.”

Sighing again, she brushed a hand through her hair, moving to tie it back, “Anyways, um, to everyone else that isn’t a psychopath.” She chuckles a bit, shaking her head, “Just know we’re doing this to end this damned war, any data we can send, information, we’ll get it to you.” She nodded a bit, “Yeah, we’ll get it to you.”

She wanted to say something, to her friends, to her family, but she didn’t know what to say. Even when she had been on Earth, she hadn’t known way to say, nodding slowly, she moved and strapped herself back into her seat.

At least the view was good.

—

He woke up around thirty minutes before they would be docking with the rest of the Iliad.

His heart was in his throat as they all strapped into their seats for the docking and initial thrusters, if the launch from Earth had been stressful this would be nearly doubly so. There wouldn’t be any turning back at this point, which he had known. Of course there was no turning back, thinking so was just naive but it still pulled at his mind. They were still in Earth’s general orbit but still far enough out that there wasn’t a rescue if anything went wrong, no real way back.

Sliding the visor on his space suit helmet down, he tightens down his belts carefully as he helped Cecilia direct the ship into the additional ring, “Mission control, we are in position for remote access.” Cecilia’s voice didn’t waver, waiting for the response before lifting her hands from the controls.

They drifted and he stared.

Behind him, Percy adjusted his computer next to his seat, plugging in carefully and waiting.

It was like they all were holding their breaths.

Minutes ticked by, the ring and suits inching closer before it was barely visible in the window anymore. Then came the thunk, jolting them in their seats a bit as they were strapped in tight.

The release of air as the tunnels connected to the cargo bay was stressful, none of them spoke before Mission Control came back over speaker, “Alright Arcturus, you are clear. Secondary thrusters will activate in a minute, once done you will be free to roam again.” The only other sound in their cockpit was Percy, hitting keys rapidly on the keyboard.

There was only a slight delay, “Uh, Arcturus, there had been another disconnect in cameras within the ring, please run diagnostics once able.” He slowly let out the breath he was holding, closing his eyes.

Only a few more seconds flicked by before the roar of secondary thrusters came to life and they started to move, move away from orbit, “Arcturus, you are clear for movement.” The quick clicks of belts releasing was one of the greatest reliefs.

Carefully, Cecilia was the first to move back and open the door back to the cargo hold, only a slight shift in pressure was noticeable as she moved back out, then kicked off to head down one of the tunnels.

”Hey Arcee, wait for me!” Jesse was right behind, attempting to seemingly swim through the air.

He remained for a few minutes, unable to bring himself to move. The unknown was beyond the door and that was not something he was willing to face yet. Percy reached forward and patted his shoulder, “Come on, lets see what made it on board.” It was subtle enough for the cameras, sighing and nodding, Rusty finally unbelted and followed Percy out.

Once they were in one of the tunnels, Percy glanced back, “I have footage looping, they’ll get nothing for the first day then we’ll record some basic interactions in here before cutting the lines completely.” Smiling a bit, he nodded, “Good job Perc’.” They both floated from the tunnel and looked around.

The space wasn’t terribly large, but it was full of strapped down cargo, including a large black box that Cecilia and Jesse were uncovering, “Hey pal.” Jesse had the visor of his suit lifted, the grin on his face was bright.

His heart clenched painfully as they drifted over and waited.

It had been three months since they’d seen Deadlock, the poor bot had been stuck as a box for that whole time, in something called stasis but it didn’t make it any less terrible sounding. Rusty moved over and rested a hand on Deadlock, “We’re here kid, we’re here.”

Seconds dragged on, before a faint light glowed and carefully, Deadlock seemed to stretch out like a cat. His eyes opened and blinked slowly, before a smile (though it looked like a sneer) took over his face. Rusty smiled, pushing up the sunshade visor he had, “How’s it going?” Jesse hugged Deadlock’s arm, Cecilia was grinning and Percy nodded slowly.

They somehow managed to get him here, unnoticed and unharmed, that was a win.

—

Two weeks today, two whole weeks and he wasn’t entirely sure of how to feel.They were in the middle of space, the middle of actual nowhere and this was roughly the estimated time period of when Arcturus One disappeared. Months from when Arcturus Two had reportedly been destroyed. He’d gone ahead and override the launch sequence for the relay satellite; it was nearly four hours behind them now, maintaining its location in space. It’s slow orbit through their solar system.

Though if he had to listen to yet another game of fifty questions with Jesse and Deadlock, he’d lose his mind. He was starting to regret the translators by the five-hundredth round of twenty questions.

At present, he was working on Rusty’s assistance suit, the older man was wearing the helmet and adjusting the visor along with the oxygen mask to be a more comfortable fit, “Everything feeling okay so far?” Nodding a bit, Ratchet pressed a button on the side and the visor went from opaque to clear.

“Yeah, better than it was in the shop.” Smiling a bit, Percy shrugged, “It’ll be lighter for now, if we manage to get somewhere, anywhere, then it probably will be uncomfortable again,” He paused, “You’ll get used to it, just like any other pilot.” Rusty shook his head a bit and pressed the button again, face disappearing from view.

Deadlock loomed, leaning forward with a frown, “I do not like the visor.” Rolling his eyes a bit, Percy adjusts his own helmet slightly, checking the connection on his implants, “You said your kind has a prejudice against organics, if they are the ones who save us from the void of space then we all need to appear as though we are not organic.” Deadlock hummed, though it sounded more like a growl.

Already shaking his head, Ratchet sighs, “Ignore him, he doesn’t like anything.” Deadlock grumbled before shifting away. There wasn’t enough space for him to stand upright but there was at least enough for him to move, shifting back over to rejoin the game of questions with Roddy and Arcee.

“Alright, let's test this then.” Shifting forward, he gestures to Rusty, “Take off the helmet and put this on.” Nodding a bit, Rusty took off his helmet and let it hang next to him while putting on the assistance suit.

Assistance suits were bulky, but easy to get on and off, comfortably enough to wear for an extended period of time but not like in a sweatsuit kind of way, just in the not unbearable kind of way. Rusty’s had a lot more gear in it than the typical suit, but they both wanted it that way. It would be heavier, but Percy had figured that, adding hydraulics to help with movement and adjusting the joint areas to have more free motion.

It was just too bad it couldn’t be double jointed like so many of their own mech suits were.

Sliding on each piece, Percy helped with the boots and gloves before the helmet was put on as well, “Go ahead and move around in it, let me know if anything is pinching or uncomfortable, I’ll try to fix it.” Rusty nodded and moved about, shifting a bit in the suit, pinwheeling his arms with ease, “No, it feels good Percy, fits well.” Nodding a bit, he watched Rusty move, trying to see anything he was missing.

The ship shuddered and everyone froze, drifting in weightlessness for a long moment.

A green light seemed to flash all around them, through the small windows and practically through the ship as it shuddered again and an alarm started to blare. Percy looked at Ratchet and quickly grabbed his shoulders, “Stay here with Deadlock!” The older man started to shake his head before being snagged by said oversized cat and hauled close.

The lights flickered as the ship wheezed uneasily, small thrusters slowly sputtering out.

He hissed something to the medic as Percy pushed himself back up the tube towards the shuttle. Arcee hot on his tail, followed by Roddy as they scrambled towards the cockpit.

”Try to get Mission Control on comms, now!” Arcee shouted as she hauled herself into her piloting chair, Percy moved to snag up comms and activate them. A blurt of static then a garbled mess of noise, rapidly making the speakers pop and die on the comm.

Whatever this was, was far from good.

Roddy went straight to one of the windows to look around, “Do you think it’s Kiaju?” But he was already shaking his head, trying to re-tune the radio, “No, this isn’t them. I’ve never seen them kill a comms device before unless one was stepping on it.” There was a nearly subtle shift before the distinct drag of gravity pulled them all towards the floor. Percy’s ass hit the seat hard while he fought with comms.

It didn’t take long for Jesse to fall into his seat, just behind Cecilia, staring ahead like he was seeing something no one should.

”Oh shit. What the hell?” Cecilia’s voice came over the ship's speakers, which hadn’t been killed in whatever had just damaged their tech, “Either get to a suit or brace!” He was quick, moving back into the cockpit as everything seemed to. Explode with noise.

Speakers throughout the ship blaring painfully loud with unknown transmissions.

—

“Holy shit!”

”Ah fuck!”

”What the hell is that?!”

”Turn off the fucking notifications!”

”Abort the sensors!”

”Will someone just shut the damn thing off?!”

Everyone’s voices were coming through the speakers along with every other noise in the damn ship, it was both dizzying and painful.

The ship shuttered once again and promptly died, though no one stopped panicking, “Oh fuck me!” There was even more shouting as the lights cut, then the emergency lights came on.

Climbing from his seat, Jesse stumbled a few times, trying to get to the suit tunnels, “What the hell is happening?” Cecilia looked over as she was doing the same, “It feels like we’re entering an atmosphere.” She climbs into the tunnel as the Iliad banks hard in the opposite direction.

They’d just spent the last two weeks without gravity and now it felt like it was dragging them down. They tried to move quickly.

As soon as their tunnels sealed, he heard the distinct sound of ripping metal.

“Holy shit.” The world was exploding around them, even in his suit it was concussive. Falling into his piloting seat, he put on his helmet, adjusting his assistance suit quickly and bringing the cameras online for the first time in months. Implants connecting with a snap.

It had been months since he’d stepped foot in his suit, had spent as many waking minutes in the simulator on Earth as he could but nothing compared to this feeling.

Gasping as he finally shifted from being Jesse Nelson, back to Hot Rod, Roddy to his friends and allies. His systems come back online as a landscape rages below them, “Alright, this doesn’t look like Earth or Mars!” His comms connect easily, Arcee and Preceptor coming up on cameras and comms in the corner of his screens as they too reconnected with their suits.

All their expressions had brief shifts of pain, the rolling of shoulders as the weight hit them again. Like a bus into a brick wall.

”No, no it does not.” Arcee got her suit loose first, looking towards the ship, “Anyone have eyes on Deadlock and Ratchet?” He twisted around too, trying to see but over on this side was just him and Arcee. Percy was quick to nod though, “Yes, I do. But you won’t like where they are.” Climbing up the falling ship, Hot Rod takes a long look at the landscape.

Wherever they were was under attack by kaiju, and Deadlock had just landed himself and Ratchet in the middle of a fight, “Oh great.” He continued to scan though, trying to see something, anything, and he took a slow breath, “Alright Arcee, what’s the plan?” She took a breath, “I’m gonna try to get the ship to the ground safely, you and Percy should go figure out what’s happening on the ground.”

Nodding, he glanced over his shoulder to Percy, “First to the ground calls dibs on new cool alien stuff.” Preceptor grinned, “You're on Hot Rod.” And they both jumped like idiots.

The ring around the shuttle shook briefly from their departure but stayed connected, likely to prevent the Iliad from having a smooth landing unfortunately.

As much as he enjoyed jumping around in his suit, the ground wasn’t as far as it looked, which he didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing, rolling in his landing. Plating scraping harshly on the ground. He landed on his back with a groan, “Fuck…” Closing his eyes for a moment, he sighed even as his comms pinged loudly.

”Alright then.” Pushing up from the ground, he had to scramble back as a kaiju hurdled towards him, “Holy shit!” Like a bomb going off, the ground between him and it exploded. Blinking against the blast, a hand reached through the smoke towards him, and he took it quickly, “Thanks Perc’.” He stood and stared.

There were fewer things he’d expected right now than this, a lightning visor, “Hey Hot Rod, welcome to the party, finally. So, another Arcturus crew finally decided to show up?” Sideswipe’s voice was full of sarcasm, “Took you all long enough, hope you brought some decent shit— oh wait.” He hurdled over Jesse’s suit and dug his bracers into a kaiju behind him.

”We’ve got a lot to fill you in on, join the main frequency when you have a moment.” And like he appeared, he disappeared, following several other mecha towards more of the fight. The Iliad, still soaring above them in the distance, “Oh Kay then…”

He could just make out Arcee hanging onto it, trying to ensure that its landing wouldn’t destroy the entire thing, but then again, the ring was always meant to remain in space. It didn’t exactly have landing gear at the moment.

Bending he took several slow breaths, “Focus Hot Rod, focus.” Dragging a hand down his face, he nods and moves to follow Sideswipe.

Switching channels without another thought he almost crashed when more voices filled his ears, ones he didn’t think he’d hear again. Ones he didn’t really recognize too, but the translator handled with ease.

Yeah, this was entirely normal and they didn’t obviously die in a fiery ball of death. Of course not.