There was an air of silence in the transport, as it rolled down the road. In the distance, the giant dome that housed the AWC could be seen starting to crest. Based on the time they had left to travel, the structure would be huge when the two got closer.
Tired of the silence, the old man reached over and attempted to turn on the radio. The driver, a young woman, flicked it off with disdain. Glaring at him, she turned back towards the road.
“I still can’t believe you were about to take my child to the battlefield without telling me.” The ginger-haired woman spoke firmly, thumping the steering wheel with her fingers. The old man sighed, pulling out a cigarette box. Tapping out a single cigarette, he held it in his knuckles as he stared out the window.
“Calling the GM your child doesn’t make it any less of a weapon. I didn’t want to drag you into the world of the Vultures. I’ve avoided it for almost 25 years, and didn’t want to step into it again. You should’ve stayed with your family, Rachel.”
“You can’t give me back the 10 years we worked together on the Sniper, old man. The polite thing would be to say farewell before running out on a lady.” Rachel huffed in the silence, as she stared out the windshield.
“Ha, she calls herself a lady.” Shaking his head at the thought, the old man lit the cigarette. Taking a deep drag, he blew out a large cloud of smoke. The woman rolled down both windows, trying to fan out the noxious fumes.
“That’s just rude. Be glad this lady is willing to come along and take care of you; you’d be lost without me to maintain the GM Sniper.” Rachel smiled despite herself, thinking back on the precious cargo they carried.
A decade of sweat, tears, and dreams was stored in the transport; a fully-functioning display of their camaraderie and work. A GM Sniper II, restored from a damaged frame pulled out of the jungles of Ganymede. Painted a dark, almost black green, the stream-lined custom build looked identical to the GM Sniper II’s of the War, with only a handful of minute replacements when the stock parts couldn’t be procured. Rachel had grown from a child who could only hand tools into a woman who was making mechanical decisions and changes of her own. Her love for mechanics and Mobile Suits had been born through this journey, and now she was preparing to take the next step.
Marcus admired the young woman, so vibrant in the light of the afternoon sun. Ganymede was no place to keep such a genuine mechanic, an individual willing to go through all the efforts of restoring a derelict Mobile Suit. For him, it had only been a means of coping with his ‘problems’. For her, it was a genuine passion.
Now, they were driving to their first real contract as a team, the Ganymede’s Reapers. His hand shook, causing the ash to fall into his lap. He ignored the slight discomfort of the heat, before brushing off the burning cinder. He wasn’t sure he was ready to enter that battlefield again, to know that his trigger was capable of ending another person’s life and vice-versa. But he had already signed the contract, and had a hopeful partner next to him that was depending on his skills.
The journey continued in silence, until the transport found itself rolling up to the giant doors that sealed the dome from outside influence. Bringing the large truck to a halt, the old man pulled out a small comms device. Dialing the number he was given, he waited for it to connect.
“Hello...is this the Albrecht Ways Company? I’m Marcus Strait, the leader of the Ganymede’s Reapers. We’re currently waiting to enter your...facility?”
Tired of the silence, the old man reached over and attempted to turn on the radio. The driver, a young woman, flicked it off with disdain. Glaring at him, she turned back towards the road.
“I still can’t believe you were about to take my child to the battlefield without telling me.” The ginger-haired woman spoke firmly, thumping the steering wheel with her fingers. The old man sighed, pulling out a cigarette box. Tapping out a single cigarette, he held it in his knuckles as he stared out the window.
“Calling the GM your child doesn’t make it any less of a weapon. I didn’t want to drag you into the world of the Vultures. I’ve avoided it for almost 25 years, and didn’t want to step into it again. You should’ve stayed with your family, Rachel.”
“You can’t give me back the 10 years we worked together on the Sniper, old man. The polite thing would be to say farewell before running out on a lady.” Rachel huffed in the silence, as she stared out the windshield.
“Ha, she calls herself a lady.” Shaking his head at the thought, the old man lit the cigarette. Taking a deep drag, he blew out a large cloud of smoke. The woman rolled down both windows, trying to fan out the noxious fumes.
“That’s just rude. Be glad this lady is willing to come along and take care of you; you’d be lost without me to maintain the GM Sniper.” Rachel smiled despite herself, thinking back on the precious cargo they carried.
A decade of sweat, tears, and dreams was stored in the transport; a fully-functioning display of their camaraderie and work. A GM Sniper II, restored from a damaged frame pulled out of the jungles of Ganymede. Painted a dark, almost black green, the stream-lined custom build looked identical to the GM Sniper II’s of the War, with only a handful of minute replacements when the stock parts couldn’t be procured. Rachel had grown from a child who could only hand tools into a woman who was making mechanical decisions and changes of her own. Her love for mechanics and Mobile Suits had been born through this journey, and now she was preparing to take the next step.
Marcus admired the young woman, so vibrant in the light of the afternoon sun. Ganymede was no place to keep such a genuine mechanic, an individual willing to go through all the efforts of restoring a derelict Mobile Suit. For him, it had only been a means of coping with his ‘problems’. For her, it was a genuine passion.
Now, they were driving to their first real contract as a team, the Ganymede’s Reapers. His hand shook, causing the ash to fall into his lap. He ignored the slight discomfort of the heat, before brushing off the burning cinder. He wasn’t sure he was ready to enter that battlefield again, to know that his trigger was capable of ending another person’s life and vice-versa. But he had already signed the contract, and had a hopeful partner next to him that was depending on his skills.
Hopefully...the AWC isn’t picking many fights these days. Let’s hope this is just a guard job.
The journey continued in silence, until the transport found itself rolling up to the giant doors that sealed the dome from outside influence. Bringing the large truck to a halt, the old man pulled out a small comms device. Dialing the number he was given, he waited for it to connect.
“Hello...is this the Albrecht Ways Company? I’m Marcus Strait, the leader of the Ganymede’s Reapers. We’re currently waiting to enter your...facility?”