The Seventh Sortie Begins

Victoria Schwarzenberger sat cross-legged in the domed-shaped cockpit of her Shinra model Mobile Trooper. The power was off except for blue luminance radiating from the armrests.

“Gate Gate Paragate Parasamgate Bodhi Svaha,” Victoria said, hardly more than a whisper. It was the last verses of a shaman zensunni sutra. She was calm, composed, and at peace. She had returned from the sixth sortie in a row just earlier and fell into meditation as a means to decompress from the excess stress. There was hardly ample time to fully relax, let alone leave the cockpit in case she needed to scramble again.

She felt a nudge in her spatial matrix. She peeked one eye open to see her bottled water create ripples from seismic vibrations.

"Bzzzzt ... bzzzt", the tiny buzzer broke the last sitting silence she would enjoy before the chaos of battle would begin.

The muscles in her hand began to flex as she reached forward and turned the cockpit key: the Shinra rumbled to life. The cockpit’s paneling went from a universal muted hue to projecting a three-sixty-degree panoramic view of the outside environment. Though the cockpit is located in a reinforced chest compartment of the Mobile Trooper, the main modular optical feed is linked to the MT’s headpiece mono-eye camera.

Victoria casually pivoted the left joystick to turn the Yellow Typhoon’s head.

MT and Hoshiga fighter pilots alike rushed to battle stations. Refueling and rearmament ground personnel finished work and had already retreated out of the way. Victoria was about third in line for launch. Her junior team member, Frank Erwin, was deploying ahead first. But Victoria saw it as more like being a sentry for her launch.

A unique presence groped Victoria’s attention. Lawrence Mengde, she said to herself. On a sub-window, Victoria zeroed in on him. He was in full Hoshiga flight gear. He parted from his squad, all of whom left for their Hoshiga fighters, but Lawrence headed for her.

Victoria tapped a button to open the cockpit hatch door. Still worried about me after all, Victoria said to herself. The armored hatch unlocked and swung outward just as Lawrence made a smooth landing inside the Shinra cockpit.

Victoria would’ve kicked him away normally, but she didn’t feel the need for antics this time. Lawrence showed no resistance as Victoria's exceptional agility pulled him into her dominating embrace.

“Hey... what’s this about?” Lawrence asked, bewildered by Victoria’s aggressiveness. Then: “I told you don’t make a mess of my hair.”

For Victoria, it only brought her joy. “Are we being sortied again?” But Victoria already knew the answer. “This makes it the seventh time today,” she said.

“Seems so, but listen, Victoria, the commander is getting reports it’s a whole battalion’s worth of Tacomas.” Victoria released Lawrence. Victoria glanced at her armchair console: Commander Theodore Buttermilch was undoubtedly impatient about the launch delay.

“Coming out in full force, huh?” Victoria asked. Lawrence procured a bottled drink from his pouch and offered it to her from the open hatch. “I take it we’re catching up fast on Zeta.”

“You bet. You skipped out on eating?” Lawrence pointed at her combat rations. None of it was consumed.

“I hate the aftertaste of the main dish, and I wouldn’t have a breath’s moment to step outside in case of sortie anyway.” The two pause in the midst of slight tremors. “Those imperials are getting frisky, aren’t they?”

Lawrence rested a hand on Victoria’s shoulder. He didn’t expect her to be trembling. He reached to caress her hand. “Victoria,” Lawrence said, “stay safe out there. Come back in one piece.”

“Me?” Victoria asked, holding back a haughty scoff. “I have no equal among the Imperium. It’d take an Imperial Dreadnought or three to take me down. It’s you I’m worried about.”

Lawrence leaned in and touched helmets with Victoria. Victoria tried to slip hers off, but Lawrence stopped her midway. “It won’t be long now, Victoria. I can feel it. When this operation is over and we’re free, we can—ooh!” Lawrence was kicked out of the cockpit. He didn’t regain his stability in time even after the hatch shut behind him.

“It’ll be a date, love,” Victoria said, her vitality restored. “See you on the other side!”

Victoria moved on the catapult launcher. She observed as Lawrence regained his balance and then headed for Frank’s Shinra. The two men seemed to have conversed, but Victoria didn’t bother to listen in, even with her Neo sapiens telepathy. It was a brief exchange for Lawrence as he left for his Hoshiga soon after.

The Yellow Typhoon hopped towards Frank’s. “Say, what did old Lawrence put in your head this time?” Victoria asked. She muted the incoming video call from Theodore. She didn’t want to hear it right now.

Frank looked away from the video call screen. “None of your business, it was something man to man,” Frank said.

“Hmm, is that so?” Victoria said, “I bet it was something sappy like keeping me safe, isn’t it, darling?”

Frank glanced at her but said nothing. “You should launch already, Lieutenant.”

Victoria couldn’t help but smile. “I’m right, aren’t I? No matter,” Victoria returned to the catapult footer. “Lieutenant Schwarzenberger, heading out!”