Arrogance.4
Entering the
Forges was akin to entering a different world, one with poisonous air and metal
trees. Twisting rows of gears and trollies, vast
lakes of molten metal tended to by strange creatures in leather skin and
bulbous tanks, cold glittering eyes glared out from ghoulish faces wearing
bug-eyed masks, a cluster of hoses hanging from their mouths.
There were claws
that reached down from the sky and plucked the unborn skeletons of machines and
ferried them elsewhere, all the while countless lights hung in the expanse, and
in the distance a single massive molten sun burned.
Daniel readjusted
his breathing mask so the cooling system wasn't blasting him directly in his
face as he entered the forges and followed the others to the nearest
Forge-Local-Transport, as the vast underground Forge spanned thousands of miles
all around. It was an entire city of molten metal and poison air.
They were led
around the next corner, which revealed one of the dull grey air-trams. The
twenty odd students boarded and found seats, the Forge Master walked to the
front and hit the holographic dashboard, punching in the code for the Avionics
sector. The automated trolley started with a jolt and then rose above the
forest of metal trees. It drifted slowly along the designated air-paths, flying
over tanks on assembly lines and depots for vast quantities of munitions. Ten
minutes passed in absolute silence while the huddled students-turned-factory
workers were ferried across an endless industrial biome.
The trolley
dinged twice to announce their arrival in the Avionics district of the
Forge-Works, with some stumbling and shoving the children filed off the
air-tram and the Forge Master soon followed close behind.
They were soon
all gazing up at the superstructure of an aircraft. Their craft. Their project, and their final test. She wasn't
anything special, just a regular Junker model of a plane, a transport with a
large cargo bay. She was capable of spaceflight and short-range jumps, but that
was about it. She was going to be sturdy though, boxy, with thick plating. They
estimated that she could easily do a high-speed re-entry without any major
issues. Slowing her down would be a problem though even with the
Pulse-thrusters they slapped onto her. She had a rudimentary form of VTOL, but
it was clumsy at the best of times.
To any
professional, she was garbage 23-nd C style crap that not even the
lowest-class Civvie would bother flying. She was crude, patchwork, clunky,
slapped together with nothing but hopes and prayer, and they loved her for that.
It was a sort of
adoration and a mingled fear of reprisal that kept them working so diligently
on this project. It wasn't because if they finished well they would be assured
a solid job stationed at a colony military outpost to keep and maintain the
vehicles there. Although it was a nice bonus if that did happen.
They moved in
clockwork motion.
Toney laced
electrical wiring throughout the inner hull, Fio set-thermo resistant glasswork
into the cockpit window. Gwen ran system telemetry and charted airflow across
her frame before shifting to another aspect that needed refining.
Daniel welded
plates, set pipes, installed engine work.
Daniel crawled
along the top of the skeleton airframe, it's insides all but finished, the
inner hull now undergoing final adjustments as they laid wiring to the thruster
ports. Daniel now had to only finish with the outer hull. Simons, another
classmate passed up a black metal plate, it was heavy, and Daniel nearly
dropped it onto sensitive electronics when it was handed to him. Simons also
tossed up a thermo-binder: a mononuclear welding Torch.
Giving the
activation switch a few flicks he was satisfied at the blue beam of light that
it emitted from the tip. He set to work, laying down tile after tile of
reinforced hull plating. With the torch he seamlessly bound metals together
with little to no effort. It gave him a feeling of control.
The cargo ramp
was currently giving two students some grief, it would only lower halfway
before stopping although it was not caught on anything, surely not any plating,
Daniel had laid that himself, it was
flawless. Even so, Gwen worked with the two: helping in repairing what was
obviously just a loose wire, there was not much she was needed for at the
moment. No miracles were required.
Daniel
let himself be quietly distracted by his thoughts, his hands on autopilot.
Place. Hold.
Weld. Repeat.
Such a simple
procedure.
Sometimes, you would
get to shift your position.
How exciting.
Daniel didn't
care. He loved this type of work, mind numbing though it may have seemed. There
was tact to it. Skill. Only perfect would suffice, the smallest mistake was all
it took in space. The smallest crack in the seam, the smallest flaw in any
construction, for the void to tear a ship apart.
He cursed
violently, his hand recoiling at the sudden contact with the damnably hot
metal, the heat searing him even through the thick synthetic leather body suit.
Singed fabric, smoke rising from the soot black patch. He had only burnt the
outer layer; the synthetic material had already congealed into a protective
hard scab, he continued onwards with the weld; he'll be fine.
He berated
himself for going too slowly and letting the heat build up, he could have blown
a breaker in the torch and would have lost his other hand. Fuck, he could recall losing the first one.
He'd been molding
gun-rails, pouring molten metal into hollow models, when he'd lost focus and
went to pick up the most recent cast when it was well over 450 degrees.
Obviously in pain and scared at the thought of a suit puncture in the under
forges, he panicked.
It was the damn
Abhuman that he had to thank for his continued survival since that day. He
couldn't remember much, the chemical burns and nerve damage had nearly knocked
him into sweet unconsciousness. He did remember being tackled to the ground and
a numbing white heat cut away at what was left of his ruined hand. He woke up
in the infirmary later that day, she had used a bore welder to chop the hand
off and cauterize it.
Another plus on
her so far flawless record.
Daniel ground his
teeth and clutched the handle to his welder all the more harder. He looked at
her now, circling the ship, leaning back and forth to inspect every detail no
matter how minor, every now and then she would scribble something down on a
datapad before moving on. He honestly didn't know what her deal was sometimes.
Always so self-conscious, never speaking unless asked to, he didn't get her and
her fucking perfectionism. If good enough was fine for him, it should be fine
for her.
He loosened his
grip on the trigger for the torch- he nearly burnt himself again. If he wasn't
more careful or he would warp the plates and he'd have to do the whole section
over again and wouldn't that be a
pain. He slowed down; he didn't need to rush things just yet.
After a few hours
they reached a thirty-minute breaking period where they were allowed a
stim-shot and protein jelly, Daniel eagerly accepted the stim-shot, Gwen
declined. Daniel recalled having never seen her use one. He passed it off as
some sort of cultural thing. Not that they had any culture, the only place
where you saw an Abhuman commonly was the Military. Other then that you almost
never see a 'civilian' Hybrid. And even then they're like Gwen, tagged and
regulated. Not his problem though. He had his own things to worry about. Hell
he wondered if he would be able to get off in time to hit the Buyer's Union
stores in the 'Neon' district.
He was worried
because he wasn't sure if he even had enough cred's to buy anything, he leaned
back against a pylon as he slipped the needle into a liquid reception filter on
the mask's apparatus, depressing the plunger he spat the hazel drug into his
water reservoir. Some would just jam the stim's straight into less thick parts
of there Forge clothes, just wanting to get it in there and now. Not him
though, he didn't want to risk some foreign chemical entering his body and
screwing him up.
He shivered as he
drank deeply, electricity seeming to shoot over his mouth and down his through
then spread through his entire body, the sensation, as he recalled, was that of
his nerves over stimulating and bursting, if that was at all possible. The rush
reached his brain, and his thoughts faded. They set to work once more, numb in
mind and body.
Gwen looked
at them all, more beastlike then human at the moment. She pitied them as much
as she envied them. She felt the constricting tightness of the collar around
her neck, she set back to work. Daniel had welded the plates too hotly.
She had to fix
them, again.
Not that she
would tell Daniel that, even though it might bleed him of his arrogance.
Her hands deftly
began working metal off of the hull, a plasma torch making perfect incisions
with a steady hand and sharpened skills. She stripped plates for a minute or so
before she began soldering them back on. Giving each carful attention but never
staying on one plate for more then thirty seconds.
She glanced
around her; Daniel was working on the other side of the ship now. She made sure
to trail behind him. She sighed to herself as she put another hull plate back
into position, a classmate aiding her in steadying it. Daniel would have been a
good Forgesmith if he just dedicated himself a bit more. He never applied himself, he could be
unbearably arrogant at times, and it made her wonder why she hung around him.
She faltered for
only a second, she nearly screwed up a cut. It would have still been useable,
but perfection was her standard, and there was no changing that. She knew why,
it was because he was one of the only people who would even sit next to her,
and the only one who would talk to her. This damn necklace... Recording
everything about her, it made her feel naked, even with the heavy forge-suit
she wore now.
At any moment the
DAS could pull up her profile and see what she saw, hear what she heard, and if
she were to commit a crime? He could execute her right on the spot. No
hesitation either. And even with this damnable steel choker she still had to
attend meetings and hearings, evaluations and performance reviews. She bore it
all though, whining about it would cause her to get marked down.
She had too,
really. She was an Abhuman. A Hybrid.
She needed to do well; she couldn't afford to let herself be looked over like
so many others were, because she had something to prove. She wanted to be able
to be free of this collar one day, and all others like her to be free as well.
Sure, they might never be fully accepted, as it was only natural for these
times.
She lost herself
in her dreams, letting her hands do the work where her mind dreamt. Another
plate done, now for the next section. Easy steps: lower it into place, hold it
steady, and tack it to the beams, four straight welds, and check for tears or
leaks... Repeat. Gwen worked hard. Hell, she was top of her class for the fifth
year in a row ever since getting accepted into the integration program. Never
once has she been late, and she'd never had an assignment late as well. She was
the model student, and everyone admitted it. Such a student as her was hard to
come by, a faceted diamond in the rough shining crystal blue. She would have
many doors open for her when she graduated; she only had to maintain her
standings.
If only that were
the case. Half of those doors would be shut at the mere sight of her. The other
half would have her mopping floors.
Her band felt
tighter then usual today, and she knew why. It was one of her monthly
evaluations, she swallowed nervously. She struggled to keep her hands from
trembling too much. She calmed herself with some effort. Herculean to others
was simple for her. She told herself there was nothing she could do about
the... arrangement she had with the DAS.
She nearly cursed
when the forge smith announced that their shift was over and they boarded up
onto the FLT once more. Daniel looked pleased as he observed what he thought to
be 'his' work. Gwen distracted herself by assessing the damage Daniel did to
the other side before the lift gave a jolt and they were taken into the
forge-works-sky one more time.
The air was
toxic, and her heart was bitter.