Mac felt the cool inflow of the saline solution being shot into his veins through the pilot suit. Added to the effect of the cold concrete, it made him shiver involuntarily.
“About time you got here,” Tiera commented to the out-of-breath medic in a grey pilot suit holding two bags of saline solution over Mac.
“I’m sorry. I ran as fast as I could. And, I have been awake for… a long time…” the medic glanced down at Mac’s face inquisitively, “You’ve got something on your…” He trailed off as he noted a subtle shake of the shock leader’s head.
“Control,” Tiera tapped her chest for the comm link. “We need a fresh medical team… oh, that’s right… comms are down. Good job by control.”
Mac opened his eyes and was just coherent enough to recognize one of the pilots from Grist’s bolt holding the clear bag above him. “Thanks for the juice.”
A grin broke out on Tiera’s face for the first time that morning. Why were they staring at him and obviously suppressing smiles?
XXXXX
Mac rested on a cot in the back of the crowded briefing room. He could see the eight other members of his bolt sitting in a group right in front of him, but every time he tried to count them one by one, he could only reach seven. They must have pushed something else pretty strong through his IV. Shame it wasn’t doing anything to help with the pain in his chest.
The low hum of conversation died quickly as Tiera stood up on the raised platform. Thanks to the tiered seating, Mac could just barely see her face over the heads of his bolt. At least no one as tall as Rieka was in the team or he wouldn’t have seen anything. What had ever happened to her? Hopefully she was doing alright.
“Don’t worry, I won’t keep you here too long,” Tiera promised rather seriously, drawing Mac’s attention away from the semi-pleasant day-dream of an old crush. She used to wear the cutest ringlets in her hair. “However, we do need to reinforce what you’ve learned during this exercise. Let’s start with the good. Can someone point out something that went well?”
“Grist had us ready for launch, and we all landed well,” replied the medic sitting beside Mac with an IV bag slowly warming in one hand.
“Grist tell what next. Give rule,” the troll explained with his typical bluntness.
“So, taking the time to explain how to do new things completely and thoroughly really made it easier,” Tiera concluded aloud for the group.
Like that time Mac’s high school friend had taught him to dance, his mind drifted with the oxygen depletion. Sort of. He had been prepared for everything but step one.
“Actually,” The medic countered, “just as we stepped on the launch elevator, he said, and I quote, ‘Use bot to land, stick with me’.”
Mac’s mind wandered back to the beautiful, brown-haired girl who had smiled at him from the dance floor so long ago. There had probably been something on his face judging by the way she had kept looking at him.
Tiera frowned, “And then you all did such a great job working together as a group and defending each other that it took all night before the instructors gave you each even a single chance to fly. I’m sure your internal communications were phenomenal.”
“Would she have danced with me had I asked?” Mac wondered to himself. She had been taller, but that made her look more like a model, which reasonably put her yet another league above him. She was also so sweet that she probably would have even said yes and endured it maturely even if she didn’t want to. Logically, that would have just made his potential request that much ruder. Yeah, it had been the kind thing to do keeping his mouth shut and letting her have her fun out on the dance floor by herself.
“I tell them stick with me if you want live,” Grist explained flatly. “And I make bolt smash one fool who try run,” the troll looked directly at one elf who tried to fade into his seat under the glare.”
Tiera resisted the urge to throw up her hands and pressed on. Then she asked, “What else worked?”
Mac had nearly opened his mouth a few times when she had twirled by, but reason and kindness had stayed a foolish request. Yes. Reason and kindness, that was why. It had nothing to with the fact that he had been crushing on her the last… few years, and he was afraid of being rejected. Definitely not that.
“After we started helping the other bolts, they returned the favor,” the medic answered, “at least until you split us up for skirmishes.”
“That must have been nice,” Natalia replied sarcastically from the back row behind her bolt. Tiera looked confused for a moment, but the vampire pressed on, “Isn’t it natural to help someone that helps you? If someone, I… don’t know… saved me from an attack, I would be right there helping them with the aftermath of that, especially if it put them in a bad spot. Wouldn’t you agree, Mac?”
“Wait, what?” Mac thought as he realized his name had just been used in vain, allowing Rieka’s face to fade from consciousness.
She didn’t let him answer and forged ahead, “Or if someone provided cover fire so I could get across a clearing, I would return the favor. Or if someone saved my bacon by taking a hit from a swooping battle suit for me, I would be there clawing tooth and nail…”
She did all that? Mac wondered.
“I believe we get your point,” Tiera interrupted before the one-sided discussion could deteriorate any further. “You all get frustrated when no one helps each other,” Tiera began angling for the point she had been striving to make.
“I really appreciated it when Grist’s bolt protected me by driving that instructor off in the woods with a mass hail of fire,” Freyja, the waifish blonde piped up with a wide smile on her face and her hands clasped under her chin. “It was so sweet of the whole bolt to watch out for me like that.”
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
“You see, how bolts working together…” Tiera began.
“What time that?” Grist asked, sounding rather confused.
Freyja kept her angelic smile on her face as she replied, “Don’t you remember? It was shortly after sunrise near the deep woods.”
The bolt looked at each other, exchanging shrugs and blank stares. “Oh, okay, now I know what she’s talking about. That was when an instructor was lurking in the woods sniping at us,” the Medic explained, as understanding dawned on the bolt. “We didn’t even realize she was there. I hope we didn’t hit you,” he finally apologized for the group.
“Oh…” Freyja blushed deeply and stared at the ground in embarrassment. “No, I was okay. You didn’t hit me.”
“Focus, please” Tiera drew attention back to herself, mercifully sparing Freyja additional scrutiny. “What the instructors noticed throughout the exercise, is that Grist’s bolt routinely assisted the other bolts and worked well amongst themselves… well there was that one time… okay two times,” Tiera corrected herself, “But they generally helped others outside themselves which is part of the mission statement of HeHeHe.” She quite consciously ignored the confused looks passing between the members of Grist’s bolt. At least two of them had both hands out mentally counting on their fingers.
“The last thing I saw someone in your group do, happened back in the hangar, when…” the name escaped her, “…your medic took care of Mac with two bags of saline solution, likely saving his life, or at least preventing a really bad cramp.”
Mac couldn’t argue with that logic.
“With all of that in mind,” Tiera Sardonyx pressed on, “Having provided the juice of life in multiple instances your bolt is now officially designated Juice. Grist, you are Juice One. You’ll need to come up with a suitable emblem for the shoulders of your pilot suits. Grist, please have that submitted to me by the end of the week.” The troll nodded affirmatively in reply.
“Miss Pardova,” Tiera addressed the vampire respectfully even as she saw yawns in the audience. “Or anyone else in your bolt, were there any other things your bolt could have improved on or done differently?”
Freyja raised her hand carefully, then spoke meekly in her Nynorskan accent after Tiera nodded at her. “It would have been nice if someone had taught us how to use the AI before we put on the battle suits. And even then, my AI was not very nice to me. It kept insulting me and saying that I didn’t deserve its help. Can we, maybe, change that?” she asked hopefully.
Tiera looked momentarily flummoxed as she processed Freyja’s words. She chanced a glance at the bolt’s chief mechanic standing along the wall and received a shoulder shrug in return. “Did anyone else have that issue?” Tiera asked slowly, silently willing the answer to be, “No.” That would be good… right?
The shock leader was met with blank or confused stares. That was a small victory… sort of. “Would you change out the AI on her battle suit.” Tiera directed the mechanic then added hurriedly, “after we deal with Haley.”
“Wait, did you say Haley?” the mechanic leaned forward as they asked.
“Yes.”
“Ah….” a string of creative invective involving at least three languages tumbled from the mechanic’s lips.
“Our thoughts exactly,” Tiera replied. “Anything else we can improve on?” Natalia opened her mouth to speak but the shock leader cut her off, “besides helping each other in return.”
“It, like, would have been nice to know about the three-dimensional mind maps or whatever they’re called sooner than half-way through,” Silky the Elf noted rather perturbed. “It gets totally annoying having to figure all this out, like, way after we need it.”
“But you remember it clearly, don’t you,” Tiera countered.
“Well…like… yeah.”
“And you didn’t have to sit in a boring classroom learning about something that couldn’t be easily described or demonstrated?” Tiera asked rhetorically.
Silky answered the rhetorical question anyway, “Yeahhhh…”
“And you would agree this way was more fun?”
“Like, in a ‘Oh dragon’s breath, I’m gonna totally die’ kind of way…” the tall, dark-haired Elf trailed off.
“I know our methods here at HeHeHe are a bit different.”
“Like, yeah,” Silky replied sarcastically.
“So instead of talking about how you felt, is there anything… you could have done better?” Tiera pushed for actual learning in what she suspected would be another vain attempt. It was worth a shot.
“I…” Silky began.
Was she actually going to…
“I, like, totally should not have put on make-up before we went out. My eyeliner, like, totally ran down my cheeks from the sweat, and I haven’t seen a shop around here where I could get more. And, like, with my supply getting low, that’s a real problem. I mean, look at these impossibly high cheekbones,” Silky motioned to her face in genuine frustration and full honesty, “I really need that eyeliner to make my eyes just totally pop.”
Tiera’s mouth hung open in shock as her logical brain tried and failed like a bad hard drive to process Silky’s comments. Safety Ed grimaced and covered his face with his hand off to the side.
“And, like, since I’m talking about it,” Silky broke the awkward silence and looked back towards Mac, “Someone, totally, should wipe Natalia’s lipstick off his face. It’s, like, been thirty minutes since she snogged him.”
“I did not…!” Natalia protested as Mac began feeling around his face with his hands and checking them for the dark red residue of Natalia’s preferred lipstick.
“Sorry, dude,” the medic beside him apologized when Mac turned his kicked-puppy eyes on him, “I thought you left it there on purpose. Bragging rights and all that… Here’s some gauze,” the medic fished a piece out of the pack.
“You totally did,” Silky nodded in assertion to her bolt leader. “He’s, like, cute and all for a human, so I don’t blame you.”
“He wasn’t breathing! I was saving his life!” Natalia claimed in exasperation to no one in particular. “Didn’t you see me holding his nose?” she practically begged.
“Like, you just wanted to share his air,” Silky contended with her arms crossed as Natalia’s pale face flushed red yet again.
Mary-Shelly reached over from beside her and patted her hand like a mother, “I believe you, Dark Lady.” Then leaned a bit closer and whispered, “Were his lips soft like young flesh?”
Natalia pulled her hand rather abruptly out of Mary-Shelly’s with something between a look of horror, surprise, and a dash of guilty embarrassment in her eyes. She recovered herself and then sternly remarked, “He didn’t help me even once this whole training doncha know. Okay… one time, but I’m sure it was by accident.”
“If you are done talking amongst yourselves…” Tiera interrupted the gentle buzz that was starting. “Due to Miss Pardova giving her own breath to save Mac’s life, her bolt will be known as Breathless. Miss Pardova, you are Breathless One,” the trollip seemed genuinely pleased with her pun. “I leave it to your bolt to come up with a suitable patch. Glad I don’t have to figure that out.”
“She totally snogged him,” Silky commented too loudly to the pilot beside her, drawing another flush into Natalia’s face.
The trollip took in a yawn in the corner and the deteriorating attitude of the room and realized she needed to speed this up. “Mac,” she addressed him directly.
“Yes?”
“Seeing that your AI knocked you down and unsuccessfully tried to kill you, for which I’m grateful… The not killing part, specifically,” Tiera clarified belatedly. “And also noting that you are still down some time later…”
“It did partially drain my blood,” Mac excused himself with a weakly raised arm.
“So… seeing all that…” Tiera continued pretending to be unphased, “and how almost your entire bolt failed to stick the initial landing.” Mac’s bolt looked back at the shock leader with varying degrees of embarrassment.
“I designate your bolt, ‘Fallen’,” Tiera announced. “Mac, I hereby designate you Fallen One.”
“That’s kind of cool,” Mac sat up to reply.
“Wait, wait, wait! You’re not supposed to…” Mac heard the medic say before he sensed that familiar falling sensation and the world went dark.
Which chapter title is better for the above?

