If there was one thing Isaak despised, it was the racket of boisterous uproar. Unfortunately for him, the act of celebrating was a common occurrence in Firehawk Base.
And as he soon found out, the motley crew of Firehawk Base loved to celebrate for everything.
Cheers and laughter filled the mess hall of Firehawk Base as people drank and ate with abandon, as expressions of joy marked every face in the building... except one.
Isaak hated it, but there was nothing he could do about it. After all, he was the main subject of today's celebrations. There would be no escaping this, much to his dismay. His friends had no intention of letting him leave until he was thoroughly trashed — that was their edict.
Once the Maintenance Division learned about Isaak's little incident and more importantly, that it was his first time in an M-Burst was a couple of days ago, they decided that festivities were in order.
"Come ooooon, drink up! What's the matter with you? You've barely touched your food, too!" said a lively voice, full of spirit as it chided Isaak for his overly disciplined attitude.
If Ignacio was oil, then Isaak was water — they simply could not exist together, but even so, the poor fool continued to force the impossible. He was what Isaak would have called a "normie," back in the day with a hint of disgust under his breath.
He was Isaak's... mentor of sorts, and a curse he found unremovable. To put it bluntly, Williams had assigned Ignacio as Isaak's teacher and supervisor for whenever he became indisposed with more important business.
To Isaak, it was insufferable how overly friend Ignacio was to him, despite not knowing anything about him. In a nutshell, he felt Ignacio's kindness too good to be true.
How could someone born in such a godforsaken world be so friendly and open-hearted? And the way Ignacio acted, as if he was an older brother to him irritated Isaak even more.
"Eat up, cousin! I keep telling you that you need to eat more, otherwise, you'll never get big enough to take care of yourself!" chided Ignacio as he pushed another plate of lab meat towards him.
A veritable mountain of grilled pork laid before Isaak, all of it laboratory-grown meat created in ungodly vats of nutrient fluid. Though it tasted like meat, there was a peculiar texture to it that always made Isaak want to gag.
In any case, he'd vastly prefer eating plain oatmeal or straight-up nutrient paste if it came down it. They were easier to stomach and more nutritious too, but were unfortunately off the menu tonight.
"I'll be fine, even if I don't get as huge as you. What's the point in getting swole anyway? It's pointless with all the tech we have," said Isaak as he forced another mouthful of what could only be described as an affront to spaghetti and Italy down his throat.
Somewhere deep inside, Isaak understood why Ignacio and the rest of his friends were so welcoming to him. It was because they believed him to be one of their own — a wildling.
The wildlings were a deeply familial lot, Isaak had long surmised, for they had even taken a mysterious loner like himself into their embrace simply because of his supposed "origins".
It astounded the first time he met Ignacio; the first day on the job, Ignacio had treated him like an actual brother, or a distant relative that'd come to visit Firehawk Base...
Isaak cracked a small grin when he thought about that day. The first thing Ignacio had done was... bear hug Isaak and introduce him to everyone in the Maintenance Division. It had been quite a shock for him, being paraded around like an idiot across the base.
"Hear that, Iggy? Seems like you've been rejected. Guess you'll have to lift your weights alone as per usual," said another man as he chuckled at Isaak's blunt refusal.
He, unlike Ignacio, was far more astute when it came to matters of the heart. Well, more than Ignacio at the very least... not that such a thing was an impressive feat.
Kevin was a second lieutenant and a reserve soldier in the Peacekeeper Corps' Armored Forces Division. He was part of the last remaining branch of the military that still utilized flesh-and-blood soldiers to fight in actual combat.
The reality of the situation was that over 85% of the Federation's military forces were not human for very obvious reasons...there simply weren't enough souls left to fight. To make up for this alarming deficit, hordes upon hordes of mechanized battalions were fabricated en masse.
They were aptly called "Dolls" — for they were nothing more than that.
There were a wide assortment of them, ranging from simplistic combat androids equipped with rudimentary targeting systems to autonomous orbital fleets controlled by cutting-edge Warmaster AIs.
In light of these facts, human soldiers, or rather human combatants had almost become extinct. Compared to the efficiency, never-ending persistence, and precision of a machine, human beings were woefully incompetent.
This was why Firehawk Base only had a hundred or so human crew members staffing her at all times. People were barely needed, only for maintenance and... the possibility of "unexpected situations" that might require a defter, more human touch.
Isaak admired Kevin for his steadfastness, even though he was more or less a living military relic. And the fact that he was not as chummy and sugary as Ignacio.
A welcome change, as Isaak preferred less coddling and more of others respecting his personal space.
"But you would stand to learn how to throw a punch," said Kevin, as he eyed Isaak with the perception of a real soldier. "You seem to have a dangerous lack of awareness for a fellow coyote, cousin. Being able to care for oneself in combat and daily life is a necessity..."
It was a little fact Kevin had discerned; how surprisingly unguarded Isaak was around others, no matter who they might be.
Though the boy was indeed a bit reserved, Kevin had noticed that he carried no weapon of his own to defend himself with, nor did he display any training or bearing that would indicate that he had ever been in a fight.
Even wildling children fought amongst themselves, but Isaak seemed to have the manner of someone who had never seen violence at all. In this way, it felt like he was more of a sheltered city puppy from a fortress city than a wildling.
'Perhaps the tribe he traveled with was especially peaceful? Or might he be the child of a powerful chieftain, who sent him here to better his future? The way he speaks is much cleaner than us; much closer to a real city puppy than a wild coyote...'
There was clearly more to the boy than met the eye, though only Kevin could see that. Ignacio, bless his heart, was too kind a man to see Isaak for what he really was...
A strange anomaly — seemingly without a clearly-defined past or an allegiance to either side, be it the Federation or the Wildlings.
Isaak grimaced when he heard Kevin's advice but didn't reply back, as he did not want to further incriminate himself. He knew that Kevin was a wily fox who would carefully pick apart his answers, no matter what he said.
The way Kevin gazed at him told Isaak that if he spoke too much around this man, it'd all be over for him in a single night. That was why Isaak had barely drunk any of his beer; he correctly feared that once he got too drunk, his lips would become looser, and then...
'...This fox will eat me alive, for sure. I simply cannot let my guard down around him.'
But Kevin and Ignacio were nothing more than passing concerns compared to the person who sat beside him at the moment.
The person who sat beside Isaak was an individual who inspired true dread out of him, unlike anyone else. According to Ignacio, she was a niece of Williams who had transferred herself over to Firehawk Base last summer.
Her name was Elaine and she was... one of the few Reaper pilots currently stationed at Firehawk Base.
She was someone who had been cleared and trained to operate the formidable steel titans that the Maintenance Division so diligently took care of. Of the Armored Forces Division, Reaper pilots were the only ones expected to regularly take part in combat operations.
It was said that the mortality rate for Reaper pilots befitted the names of their squadrons, all named after ancient death gods — in some cases, over the 95th percentile.
They rode in the wake of death and brought unrestrained carnage wherever they appeared, such that they were treated like omens of bad luck by many in the Peacekeeper Corps.
In polite terms, Reaper pilots were not a welcome sight, for they were almost always accompanied by the fires of war. A fresh contingent of Reaper pilots was always considered a prelude to disaster, regardless of the occasion.
Once Isaak learned of the truth behind Reaper pilots, he could only conclude that it was a requirement to have a deathwish in order to become one. No well-adjusted, sane individual would ever willingly join a squadron created for, well, what could only be described as suicide missions.
But what surprised Isaak most was that she showed up for tonight's nonsense, in what seemed like an action that didn't fit her character. Not once had he ever seen her enter the mess hall at this hour, much less partake in any merrymaking.
She just appeared out of the blue not too long ago and after spotting Isaak, plopped herself next to him without warning...
On any other night, Ignacio and Kevin would have cheered Isaak on, but Elaine had taken the wind out of their sails. Neither of them dared imply anything out of line — if not for the fact that she was related to Williams, then for the perils associated with angering a Reaper pilot.
In other words, neither of them wanted to end up in the Infirmary for the weekend.
Though no one dared comment about the situation, interested eyes could be seen drifting around the four of them, as whispers and quiet jeers filled the mess hall. Devoid of entertainment, the patrons of the mess hall found themselves enjoying the developing crisis Isaak found himself in.
Not out of malice, of course. They just wanted to know how the little pup had drawn the interest of the most unsociable Reaper pilot in the base.
And with nothing better to do, they began to wonder as to the intentions of the charming young woman who had unexpectedly invited herself into Isaak's company.
Was it love, a rendezvous? Perhaps, unknown business of some kind? Or an attempt at friendship?
No one could determine with certainty. Both Elaine and Isaak were oddballs in their own right, for completely different reasons.
Elaine held no interest in playing house with the people stationed at Firehawk Base, such that she rarely spoke to anyone aside from the pilots in her unit. And even then, that was when she was forced to communicate as part of her duties.
Isaak, on the other hand, was a blank sheet that no one could figure out. Despite the best attempts of the crew of Firehawk Base, no one seemed able to pierce the tightly guarded defenses he had put up around himself.
Though he was certainly far more cordial than Elaine, it was a surface-level formality and nothing more.
They were both hiding something, which made their little meeting in the mess hall that much more entertaining to everyone.
As Isaak desperately strived to come up with something to break the ice with what he considered to be his personal grim reaper, he blurted out, "How do the vibration dampeners feel on your Reaper? I tuned them a couple of days ago. Yours is Unit-04, right?"
"...They're a little tight," said Elaine curtly, before she added, "If they're too tight, I won't be able to feel the ground underneath my feet."
Elaine was not a "Natural," as in someone who was devoid of any technological implants or cybernetic prostheses.
She was what some would refer to as a "Synthetic," someone who had undergone surgery to have some form of technology implanted to further increase her natural capabilities.
Her entire spine had been modified to allow access for a high-bandwidth neural connection, in addition to a military-class cognitive processor to handle the enormous input of information that came with piloting a fourth-generation Reaper model.
It was no lie to say that when someone like her piloted a Reaper, she became one herself — an actual grim reaper. Her senses were amplified and extended beyond their limits, allowing her unprecedented insight into the battlefield.
Whether it was the ability to see and hear the entire electromagnetic spectrum, having a complete three-dimensional view of her surroundings, or even experiencing time at a millisecond-level pace, it was all possible thanks to her synthetic implants.
In essence, to say that Elaine's Reaper was her second body would not be a lie at all. The better her personal Reaper was attuned to her, the better she would perform in battle.
Isaak, who had only been given a rough explanation of this by Williams, had not accounted for Elaine's preferences, a telltale sign of his inexperience as a mechanic.
He shrugged his shoulders in defeat and said, "Sorry about that, I'm still a greenhorn when it comes to tuning..."
And it was the truth; Isaak had only recently been allowed to meddle with the Reapers, something he found rather difficult. Fixing them was rather simplistic, as they were designed to be easily repaired, but fine-tuning them was another matter altogether.
Elaine appeared to not care about his apology because she changed the topic and said, "Are you interested in my uncle's Reaper, the RXF-Type 09? I've seen you glancing at it every now and then."
It was the battered Reaper that Williams had shown Isaak the night he brought him to Firehawk Base. The RXF-Type 09 was an early third-generation model that had long since been shelved away from the frontlines in favor of late third and early fourth-generation Reapers.
The damn thing was finicky, unreliable if not properly tuned, and operated on outdated tech from yesteryear. To put it bluntly, it was a sad relic compared to the Reaper that Elaine piloted, missing many of the features it possessed, chief among them the ability to link oneself to the Reaper.
If Elaine's Reaper had an automatic transmission, then the RXF-Type 09 was a good old stick shift, meaning it was completely manual. It had joysticks, pedals, and a bevy of touchpads and buttons to press.
Compared to the thought-controlled and ultra-minimalistic cockpits of newer Reapers, the RXF-Type 09 looked like an actual piece of warcraft from his era.
That was why he liked it so much. He and that Reaper were the same — ancient relics that had no place in the modern world. They were one and the same.
"I do like it. I find it rather... charming compared to the other Reapers on base," said Isaak as he awkwardly chuckled.
"Then... would you like to pilot it?" asked Elaine, almost as if it was the question she had been wanting to ask from the start.
And in an instant, the mess hall which had been packed with chatter and merriment grew silent. Ignacio and Kevin felt their hearts stop for a second as they processed what had been said, as stupid expressions formed on their faces.
Isaak smirked when he heard her invitation and said, "But I'm a mechanic; I don't have the clearance to pilot a Reaper, even if I wanted to try it."
"Then I'll get you the clearance you need. Meet me at the Maintenance Hangers tomorrow at 0900," said Elaine, as if Isaak's problem had already been settled. After that, she finished her drink, stood up, and left the mess hall.
It all happened so quickly that it took Isaak a solid minute before he came to his senses and asked, "Did... I just score a date with William's niece?"
The unthinkable had occurred.