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Stanford watched in horror as Olivia threw herself against the Sharg Queen, HF1’s thrusters at max capacity as she forced it into the black hole.
“Olivia, fall back!” Captain Tanaka shouted. Stanford was frozen, straining to hold the black hole open, caught between action and inaction as Olivia inched closer to the event horizon.
Stanford couldn’t let this happen.
“Buddy, can you still move while holding the black hole open?” Stanford asked.
Buddy beeped in confirmation, and Stanford fired up the thrusters, shooting closer to the queen. It was a struggle to do both at once, but he just barely managed it.
“Olivia, I’m taking your place,” Stanford shouted. “If anyone can push the queen in and make it out alive, it’s me and Buddy. So move!”
Olivia, startled, actually complied. Stanford placed Buddy’s hands against the queen and pushed, putting all of the power usually dedicated to speed into this one push. Somehow, holding onto gravity was easier here, now that they were closer to the center of it.
“Stanford, that’s enough, come back!” Tanaka shouted.
“Just a little more!” Stanford called back.
He felt the second they went too far. The queen disappeared beneath them, crushed by the overwhelming force of gravity, and Stanford only had a split second to panic before the world shattered around him.
When Stanford came to, he was floating in a splintered room. He was still piloting Buddy, who was remarkably undamaged.
“You okay?” Stanford asked.
Buddy beeped yes, and Stanford caught a glimpse of a memory, Buddy using what little power they had left to shield them both from the forces of gravity. Somehow, they made it to the other side of the black hole unscathed.
“Okay, that’s good.” Stanford turned, looking at the glowing shards around him. It was as if he was inside a broken mirror, jagged shards all showing different images surrounding him. They didn’t look quite physical, the edges between them bright and blurry, and Stanford was hesitant to get too close.
“Where… are we?” he wondered out loud.
Buddy took a bit of control, glancing around the odd room. Their gaze landed on a particular shard, one looking down on a desert pavilion. Funnily enough, Stanford thought he recognised the place-
You land on the platform beside the other two Robos you arrived with. You are greeted by a small crowd of humans, who gesture to the organized ranks of younger humans on the ground below. You look down at the small humans, all wearing the same outfit in different colors, and wonder how you’re supposed to find any difference between them.
The ceremony begins, the trainees saluting in unison. One falls behind, stumbling over the steps. You watch them, curious; at least one of them stands out from the crowd.
The trainees turn in unison, that one stumbling again, and another trainee lunges out of formation.
“Sir, he’s not a trainee!” she shouts, dragging the out-of-place child out of the ranks. You hone in on the conversation, listening intently.
“You again?” the general says. “I thought I told you already, you missed your shot. What are you doing here?”
“I just wanted a chance,” the kid says.
You feel that sentiment deeply, having fought long and hard to make it to Earth yourself. You see two small machines approach the child, flashing lights and waiting to escort him away.
You want to see what he might do. He deserves to have a chance.
You hop off the platform and drift to the ground, landing a safe distance away from the trainees. You walk closer and kneel down beside the child, and he looks up at you in awe. You point at him, then at the ranks of trainees, gesturing for him to take his place again.
“Are you sure?” the general asks. You nod.
“Alright then. Stanford, get back in formation, and don’t waste this chance,” the general says. The other trainee gapes, as if this were a personal insult, but ultimately returns to her spot.
You fly back up to the viewing platform and watch the selection ceremony. Stanford, the one that caught your eye, doesn’t do well. He struggles, throwing himself against his opponents again and again despite his clear lack of training. He has tenacity, at least, and you value that. His opponents are precise, and strong, but several of them stomp and huff whenever they lose a match. Stanford is used to losing, you realize, and knows how to get back up.
The next event is a race, and in this Stanford does a bit better. He finishes sixth out of thirty-one trainees, not bad at all, but not the best either. Still, he grins and celebrates, and stays focused on the task ahead.
Finally, the trainees fight against autonomous drones as they race across varied terrain. At this point, you have given up all pretense of watching anyone but Stanford. He struggles as the event begins, unable to control his exosuit, but even though he falls behind he eventually gets the hang of it. Soon, he’s swiftly catching up to the other trainees, even passing the back of the pack. There are few drones left to fight, since those at the front have destroyed most of them, but there are a few that were held in reserve.
Stanford ducks through tight caves and around rock formations, showing a solid understanding of three-dimensional space. His aim with the training gun isn’t perfect, but when he realizes he won’t land a shot at range he immediately finds another strategy. He rushes up a nearby rock formation, then flings himself through the air onto the top of a drone. He’s about to shoot it, but pauses, and instead sticks his hands into a panel on its back. A moment later, he’s riding a drone to the finish line, ending up in fourth place out of everyone.
The trainees meet you on the viewing platform. The top three stand in the front, and it’s clear that the humans expect you to choose one of them, but you have known since the start who you will choose. You let the others go first, the red Robo choosing the darker-skinned girl, and the green one choosing the boy. The girl who tried to have Stanford kicked out looks up at you expectantly, but you simply walk around her, approaching the crowd of trainees further back.
You kneel down, just as you did earlier this morning, and the crowd slowly parts to reveal Stanford. He’s tired, and still in awe, but determined to stick it out to the end.
You extend your hand, and he looks at you with disbelief.
“You… want to bond with me?” he says quietly, as if in a dream.
You nod.
“This can’t be happening,” he whispers. You once thought that too, when you were finally allowed to go to Earth, finally old enough to fight.
You initiate the bond, and a new chapter begins.
Stanford blinked, back in the splintered room
“What was that?” he wondered.
Buddy beeped something, and this time Stanford understood it a bit better.
“An alternate reality? Huh,” Stanford said. “Is that… what you would have done, if it happened like that?”
Of course, Buddy seemed to say.
“Thanks,” Stanford whispered. “Any ideas on how to get out of here?”
Buddy beeped a negative, and Stanford looked around for ideas. The shard of memory they had just viewed was now dark, distant stars now visible where it had been.
“I guess if we look through enough of these, we’ll open up a way out,” Stanford reasoned.
Buddy agreed, and so they took a look at the next shard.
You slam another Sharg into the ground, multiplying the gravity on it until it collapses under its own weight. You glance around, your senses sharp, looking out for any more enemies in your vicinity.
There aren’t any; you relax, if only minutely. You’ve been fighting off a near-constant onslaught of Shargs since you were dragged down to Mars, separated from your companions and forced to stay on this planet. You could leave, but there are so many Shargs here just waiting to invade, that you feel compelled to stay and hopefully lessen the threat.
You had to learn quickly. You’ve learned that your gravity-manipulation abilities, meant to let you travel quickly either through space or around a planet, can be used to crush Shargs under their own weight. You can hover well out of their range, reversing gravity around yourself to repel them like a shield. The largest ones can sometimes overwhelm you, but if you increase your own gravity and drop into the earth, it takes long enough for them to follow you that you can reorient yourself to defend.
You’ve been following the Shargs to their origin, tracking across the surface and killing any you find along the way. You aren’t built for combat, but this is what you came here to do, and you’re glad you managed to live long enough to learn.
You reach the crest of yet another crater, and notice something up ahead. You would think it’s a large rock formation, if you hadn’t been fighting Shargs for the past three days straight. As it is, you recognise the outlines of a truly massive Sharg instantly, and you know that you won’t be able to kill this one and survive the process. But maybe you can slow it down, keep it from attacking Earth until reinforcements come. Do they know that it’s here? It’s on the surface, and you know humans have satellites around this planet, so they must be able to see it- but do they know what it is?
You have to force it to move. They need to know what’s coming.
You jump, not even needing your thrusters in the low Martian gravity, and land lightly on top of the massive structure. You walk closer to the head, searching for weak points, anything that could wake it from hibernation.
You look up, and see the blinking light of a satellite far above your head. Its cameras are pointed downwards, and its antennas are pointed up towards Earth, rendering you unable to communicate with it from the ground. A new idea comes to mind, and you start taking photos. You focus on its joints, the parts of it that are clearly organic, though you don’t stray too close to the head- if it sees you, you’re dead. A shot of its eyes would be perfect, but you haven’t survived this long on your own just to get careless now.
Finally, after three days stranded here, you fire your thrusters and leave the planet. You fall into orbit near the satellite, using its antennas to get a signal to Earth. You send over all of the photos you took, along with the scan data, and wait for them to respond.
Fourteen minutes later, a reply comes: Message received. We request that you enter Earth orbit as soon as possible.
Well, they know best, don’t they? It’s their solar system. You break free of Mars’s gravity and plot a course to Earth, leaving the queen and the army of Shargs behind. You wonder why they requested orbit specifically; maybe there’s a problem with their defenses? You thought the process was usually to go straight to the surface, pick a pilot, and then go from there.
Well, if they know about the queen, then this just might be extenuating circumstances.
As you get closer and closer to your destination, you find the answer. There’s a hole in the shield protecting the planet, one of the satellites visibly out of position. The two robos you came here with, another yellow robo, and something that seems like a passing imitation of your kind hover around the faulty satellite. You join their group, wondering if you could tug it back into place until it’s fully fixed.
What’s going on? You ask.
Shargs attacked the base control unit, one of them got away and knocked the satellite out of position, the yellow one says. Engineers on the ground are working on the tower, our job is to guard the satellite while Stanford fixes it.
Who?
They point out a small figure working diligently on one of the outer motors, a young human wearing an exosuit. He isn’t a pilot, you can tell just by looking, doesn’t have any bond to speak of. For someone this young to be entrusted with this task must mean that he’s either very skilled, or that they’re running out of options.
You tune into the pilot comms, hoping to learn a bit more from their conversation.
“Man, we take out that Sharg all by ourselves and we still have to sit up here on guard duty? Not cool,” the pilot of the red robo says.
“C’mon, this is important too,” the green pilot says. “If we weren’t up here the defense ring might go down completely.”
“Frank’s right,” the yellow pilot says. “Right now, keeping watch is our duty. As long as the GDR is down, we need to stay on high alert.”
“Yes, sir,” the red pilot says, disgruntled.
“You should really stop whining, Sanchez,” the grey pilot says. “Even Mop Boy is being more helpful than you right now, and he isn’t even supposed to be here.”
“Hey! I’m the one who noticed that he snuck onto HF1, remember?” Sanchez says.
“I still can’t believe he snuck back into campus after General Park kicked him out,” Frank says. “I mean, dude. ”
“Desperate people do reckless things,” the grey pilot says. “Right now, that’s working in our favor.”
You turn away from the conversation to watch Stanford work again. He’s moving along the side of the satellite, making his way to the control station; the motor must be repaired. You keep one eye on him and one towards empty space, keeping an eye out for any Shargs that may have followed you.
“Done! Initiating now,” Stanford says, inputting a code into the control unit. The motor sparks to life, the satellite realigning itself with ease. It hasn’t drifted too far out of its intended path, making the process easy. It locks into position, the GDR beginning to spring to life-
And then drifts to the other side, the motor overcompensating for the displacement. Stanford curses and starts crawling back along the hull towards the motor again, moving recklessly in his haste. He pushes himself off the railing, reaching out for the next one and firing the thrusters on his exosuit, only to spin out of control and start falling towards Earth.
Automatically, you dive to catch him, freeing him from the planet’s gravitational pull to stop his momentum. You lift him back up to the motor and hover there, making sure he doesn’t fall again.
“Oh, thanks,” Stanford says, holding onto the railing with more caution this time. He wastes no time getting back to work, but still talks as he tightens the bolts.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” Stanford says. “And you don’t have a pilot, right? I would’ve heard if you do. So you must be new.”
That’s right, you say, though you don’t expect him to understand you.
“Guess you got caught up on the way here,” he says. “Thanks for sending all that data, by the way. That’s the reason they sent us up here so soon instead of waiting for the actual engineers to fix it. I got a chance to go into space, and that’s basically all I wanted.”
Is it? You ask.
“Of course it is,” he says. “I mean, I lost my engineering internship because I tried to sneak into selection, so if this hadn’t happened I’d never have a chance to do something like this. I was sorta planning on trying to prove myself again and get a shot at one of the HF units, but then I saw Olivia taking off and didn’t really think before hopping on. So, y’know. It worked out.”
You want to be a pilot, you realize.
“Doesn’t everyone?” he says. “Not many get the chance, though. Maybe I’ll get another shot at engineering after this. It’s probably the closest I’ll ever get.”
You like him, and you know that you could give him that chance, but you aren’t going to be hasty. You’ll wait until this is over, until you’re on the ground and have the chance to meet other candidates, and get to see more of what he’s capable of.
The motor once again repaired, Stanford starts making the trek back across the satellite. You hold out your hand, and he takes the hint and jumps on, allowing you to ferry him to where he needs to go. He inputs the code once again, and the satellite finally moves back into position, the GDR coming to life.
Just in time, too, as you spot the Sharg Queen approaching the planet. You must not have been as subtle as you thought.
“Ah, crap,” Stanford says.
“Alright, we all know how easy it is to knock these satellites out of position,” the Captain says. “If that thing comes too close, it could ruin all the work we just put in. We need to at least keep it away until we get backup, and try to kill it if we can. Are you ready?”
“Yes, sir,” the cadets say.
“Stanford, and uh… new Robo, you stay on this side of the GDR,” the Captain says. “You’re both too vulnerable out here, so stay here and be our backup if something goes wrong.”
“Yes, sir,” Stanford says. You say nothing, and he takes you silence as agreement. It isn’t, but there isn’t much you can do. You know what assumptions he’s making- three days ago, you wouldn’t be of any use in a combat situation, but you’ve been fighting Shargs nonstop and you’ve learned their weaknesses and how to fight. Maybe not in zero-g, but gravity is your element, and you’re certain that you can adapt.
“Man,” Stanford grumbles, looking up at the standoff on the other side of the shield. “I wish I could help.”
Stanford’s not really one to follow orders either, is he?
Hey, you say. He looks at you, fully understanding in a way you didn’t expect from a human. They don’t speak your language naturally, not without a bond, but he understands, likely through exposure and study. Or just talent, but either way you count it as a plus.
How does this shield work? You ask, testing him along with getting the information.
“Uh, it pulls power from Earth’s gravity well to pretty much disintegrate anything it touches,” Stanford explains. “It’s… I don’t fully understand it, but it’s set up to fully destroy Shargs, but it’ll repel humans and robos instead of hurting them.”
You nod, then look up at the shield. There’s a passage through the satellite that you could take, but it’s locked behind the others, and probably needs some kind of authorization to open. You tap the shield, finding yourself thrown back slightly, but it’s enough to figure out how it works.
The shield pulls power from Earth’s gravity well. It uses the forces of gravity to repel or destroy. This is your domain; you can get through the shield.
But for this fight, you know that you’ll need a pilot.
I can get through, you say, drifting back to Stanford. But I need your help.
“Whatever you need,” Stanford says, determined.
You hold out your hand. I want you to be my pilot.
He gapes, looking up at your face even as he drifts into your open palm.
“Are you serious?” he says. “I mean, why me?”
You fought hard to be here, you explain. So did I. and there is no one else to ask.
“I mean, wouldn’t you rather go pick someone from the trainees down on Earth?” Stanford asks. “I’m not- I didn’t go to school, I don’t have combat training. I’m an alright engineer, but-”
Don’t you want to be a pilot?
“I do!” he says hurriedly. “But I’m not… I know I’m not the best choice.”
You’re the best choice for me, you say, refusing to back down. You don’t give up. Neither do I. Right now, I need your help. What’s your answer?
He steadies, holding onto your thumb. He looks you in the eyes, determined.
“Yes.”
You initiate the bond, and the memory fades away.
Stanford blinked awake, returning to awareness.
“Y’know, I’m starting to see a theme with these,” he said. Buddy beeped in agreement. “I mean, two isn’t really a good sample size, but y'know.”
Stanford glanced around, carefully not focusing on any one shard for too long, lest he be sucked in. He spotted a memory that showed a Hero Force unit, and wondered what it could be about.
“What do you say, Buddy?” Stanford asked. “Shall we look at this one?”
Buddy beeped an affirmative. Stanford looked into the shard, and the memory enveloped them.
You tighten your grip on the controls, pushing the brand-new Hero Force unit just a little faster. This isn’t what you thought you’d be doing on your engineering internship, but you can’t say you aren’t enjoying it. The units are new, untested, and you had jumped at the chance to volunteer to test them out. General Park allowed it only because you had both engineering and pilot training, and he wanted HF1 to be deemed safe for use before giving it to his daughter.
You turn around in midair, noting the slight wobble as the thrusters struggle to stay balanced, and fly back the way you came. Chief Clark and his team are observing from a truck on the ground, taking down data while you run HF1 through a battery of tests. The ground tests are mostly done, leaving just aerial movement and weapons testing.
“Got anything for us?” Clark asks over the comms.
“Yeah, we need to take another look at the propulsion software, it’s a bit shaky on turns,” you say. “Other than that it’s doing alright. We should test it at higher speeds once that’s fixed, though.”
“Got it. Alright, next up is… testing the railgun. Fire into that cliff or something,” Clark says.
“Roger that,” you say, turning and activating the railgun. HF1’s hand folds back to reveal the weapon, and you aim and fire. It doesn’t do much damage against the cliff, but it does work, and you fire a few more rounds at near-max speed. After six rounds, it locks up, refusing to fire any more.
“Add railgun jamming to the list,” you sigh. Clark writes it down.
“Got it. On to-” Clark pauses.
You turn, following his gaze back towards the base. Standing a few hundred meters off in the desert is a robo, small for their kind and sporting blue and orange colors.
“Them again?” Clark says. “I don’t know why General Park even keeps them around since they won’t choose a pilot. Little creep…”
“Maybe they just want to watch?” you suggest.
“Either way, now we have to worry about them,” Clark grumbles. “Moving on, I guess. Test-fire the Atlas missiles.”
You comply, and those work fairly well at least. When you look back at the robo, they’re a little bit closer.
“Is it just me, or is that a little bit creepy?” Clark says.
“Yeah, it kinda is,” you admit. “Maybe we should end testing for today?”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much everything,” Clark says. “Get HF1 on the truck and get down here, Yu.”
You walk HF1 onto the truck bed and lie it down, climbing out of the cockpit while the other engineers work to secure it. You take off your helmet and wipe off the sweat; cooling systems was one of the first things you put on the list. Out here in the desert, even with the exosuit aiding your temperature regulation, the heat is oppressive.
“Good work today,” Clark says, clapping you on the shoulder. “Sure you won’t move over to the Hero Force team for good?”
“Sorry, sir,” you say. “But I’ve always wanted to work with the Robos.”
“Yeah, I figured,” he said. “Hope you’ll be willing to work with us from time to time, at least.”
“Of course,” you say.
You hear the sound of heavy, slow footsteps, and glance over to find the blue robo approaching you.
“Damn, what now?” Clark grumbles.
The robo stops beside the truck, and just about everyone stops their work to look up at them.
“Uh, hi!” you say, waving, since no one else is doing anything. “Thanks for coming to watch the test, I guess.”
They kneel down and lean forward, looking you in the eye. You lean back a bit automatically, but don’t look away.
They hold out a hand in an obvious gesture, and you step onto it. They lift you up to the level of their shoulders and turn, facing the empty desert. You squint into the distance, wondering what they’re trying to show you. Far away, nearly at the horizon, you spot a dust cloud rising out of the earth and heading your way.
“Is that…?” you wonder aloud, leaning forward as if that could give you a better view. It’s difficult to judge its size, with the distance, but whatever is making that cloud must be massive.
There’s only one thing you can think of that would cause that.
“Chief Clark! There’s a Sharg!” You shout, leaning over the edge of the robo’s hand. “Due west and heading straight towards us!”
“What?!” Clark exclaims. He grabs a pair of binoculars and jumps on top of the truck, looking in the same direction.
“Crap,” he says. “Everyone, get HF1 unstrapped! I’m calling for backup!”
You look up at the Robo’s face and gesture for them to put you down, and they do so. You rush over to HF1, now mostly unstrapped, and climb into the cockpit. You aren’t trained in combat, but HF1 is the only working unit you have, and no one else here has any pilot training whatsoever. You’ve at least spent plenty of time in the sim, and you’re familiar with HF1 from the testing. It’s not ready for combat, not in the slightest, but it’s all you have.
The moment the straps are undone, you get HF1 on its feet and start moving, running to intercept the Sharg before it reaches the truck. What it coudl be after, you aren’t sure, but leaving it on the loose can’t be good for anyone.
“Yu, we’ve got the trajectory,” Chief Clark says. “It’s heading for the GDR control unit. We’re going to head for the tower and act as a last line of defense. You just hold it off until backup gets here!”
“Yes, sir,” you say, and you push off into the air and start flying. You reach the Sharg fairly quickly- it’s half-burrowing, half-running along the surface, consuming the earth as it goes and visibly growing as you watch.
You fire two missiles, startling it out of the ground. If this were an ordinary sharg, that would have killed it, but you can already tell that this one’s armor is much tougher than any shargs on record. You’ll have to find a weak spot.
HF1 isn’t built for close-range combat, so you keep your distance. The sharg rears up, enraged, and you fire the railguns twice at its underside. That does some damage, but not enough, and it starts charging at you. You know immediately that HF1 doesn’t have the speed to evade, that you’re about to be sharg food, and you do the only thing you can: you hit the emergency eject.
You fly into the air, your parachute deploying automatically, and benath you HF1 is ground into scrap metal. You wince; you just got a several-million-dollar mech destroyed.
Well, fuck. Now what? There’s nothing standing between the Sharg and the GDR tower besides Clark and his team, and they have improvised weapons at best. The base is miles away, it’ll take at least a few more minutes for any Robos to get here-
Something grabs you out of the air.
You blink, finding yourself in the hands of the blue robo from earlier. They’ve leapt directly over the sharg, landing behind it as it continues on its crusade.
“Thanks,” you say, realizing that you were on a path to land on the sharg’s back, and that couldn’t end well. The robo turns around, letting you see the sharg again; it’s slowed down, but not enough.
“What are we gonna do?” you wonder aloud. “I mean, maybe you could fight it, but you don’t have a pilot…”
The robo beeps at you, and you turn around to face them. They open their chest hatch, and you implicitly understand what they’re saying.
“Me? No way,” you say. “I never- I thought I missed my chance.”
They beep more urgently at you. They’re right; the sharg is getting away, and you only have so much time.
“Alright,” you say, and look up at their face. A string of information flows between you both, forging a connection deeper than words. Under different circumstances, you might take a moment to process, but there is no time. The moment the bond is formed, you leap forward into the cockpit and sit down in the pilot’s seat. The hatch closes behind you, and you close your eyes as the link activates.
You stand in the desert, a sharg before you, and you are now a pilot. You know exactly what you need to do.
“Alright, three times cannot be a coincidence,” Stanford said. “Maybe… you always find me, in every world.”
Isn’t that what I’ve been saying?
“Yeah, I know, I know, it’s just hard to believe,” Stanford said. “The hole’s gotten bigger… do you think we can get through?”
The stars were clearly visible on the other side, though the light of the nearby memories nearly drowns them out. Buddy looked at the hole, made the calculations, and decided that it wasn't quite ready yet.
“Another one it is, then,” Stanford said. “What d’you think it’ll be this time? Maybe you show up early, instead of late.”
That would be interesting.
“Well, let’s go find out.”
You aren’t the first to know that there’s a new Robo approaching, but you are the first to see them streaking through the sky. You rush outside, ignoring the setup for the selection proceedings, and watch in awe as the robo lands on the platform well above the rest of the campus. You rush back inside, throwing out your idea to steal an exosuit and join the selection; there just isn’t time. You don’t have a plan, but you do have your hacked keycard, and therefore you can get into the elevator that leads up to the landing pad. No one is monitoring it in the chaos, and so you’re able to slip in virtually undetected.
Hiding once you’re up there is a bit harder. Many of the senior officers on the base are gathered next to the new robo, waiting for the selection to begin. You stay at the back and slide along the cliff face until you find a good spot, and then climb. You know fully well that few people ever think to look up, and so you find a nice shelf to sit on and settle in. The new robo might notice you, but you’d welcome that, and you have a decent enough view of selection from here too.
The new robo seems… small. It’s hard to tell, without another robo to compare them to, but that’s your impression. They stand straight and tall, watching the ceremony below, but they seem… tense. Nervous, you realize. Do robos get nervous? They must, you think, as you watch them.
“I guess this is a big day for you too, huh,” you say.
The robo seems to twitch, and you wonder if they heard you. But they go back to watching the cadets, so surely not.
The selection goes on for hours, the robo turning their undivided attention towards the cadets. You make remarks every once in a while, even though no one can hear you but the robo. You become increasingly convinced that they’re listening to you, judging by the miniscule shakes of their head every time you speak. Once, you even think they’re laughing.
Eventually, finally, the cadets arrive on the platform, the top three stepping forward. The robo turns around to face them, looking over them with a critical gaze. They scan the cadets twice, three times, and then lift their gaze to meet yours.
You freeze, as if caught in a spotlight, as all eyes turn towards you. The robo reaches out a hand, and you understand the implication, what question they’re asking of you.
“This can’t be happening,” you say, even as you step onto their hand. “I haven’t even done anything!”
And yet… you feel like you know them. Like you’ve reunited with a long-lost friend, for all that such a thing seems impossible. If you had to guess, you’d think they feel the same way about you.
They look into your eyes, and you into theirs, and it feels like coming home.
“Called it,” Stanford said.
You did, Buddy said. I think we can get through now.
“Oh, really?” Stanford gauged the hole again, finding that removing that shard had widened it significantly. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Let’s get out of here.”
Carefully, he drifted forwards, angling their body to go through the hole headfirst. Their shoulders fit, which was really what he was worried about, so theoretically the rest should be smooth sailing.
Stanford twisted once they were most of the way through, turning to face the stars and wondering how they would get home.
Just as he was about to be free, their foot caught the edge of a shard, and his vision dissolved into white.
Stanford woke up to Ava’s concerned face over him. He groaned; his head hurt.
“Dude, you okay?” Ava asked. “You just passed out all of a sudden.”
“Uh, I think I’m fine,” Stanford said, sitting up with a wince. “Hit my head pretty hard, though. Ugh.”
“You should really go see a doctor,” Ava decided. “Just in case. C’mon, I’ll walk you to the clinic.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Stanford protested. He pushed himself to his feet, wobbling only slightly. “I’m fine, see?”
“Sure,” Ava said sarcastically. “C’mon, lazy grump. Let’s go get you checked out.”
“Fine,” Stanford groaned. He started walking beside her, slowly heading towards the elevator leading out of the docks.
Stanford frowned. Why was he in the docks? Wasn't he just way out in space? Did he make it back and then lose some of his memory when he fell?
“Hey, Ava, don’t freak out but,” Stanford said, “Can you tell me what day it is?”
She did in fact look very concerned, but still answered. “It’s tuesday the 26th,” she said. “The new robos arrived yesterday. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, just fine,” Stanford said, though he knew he wasn't fooling anyone. “Uh, how many new robos are there?”
“Just two,” Ava said. “Seriously, Stanford-”
“Yeah, I know, my head’s screwy alright?” he said. “I’m fine, just a little fuzzy on the last few days.”
Internally, Stanford was panicking. The 26th was almost a week ago- what could have sent him rocketing back in time? And, more importantly, why wasn't Buddy here? Stanford was dressed in an engineer’s coverall, matching Ava- he could deduce that he just started the engineering internship he was supposed to do before Buddy showed up.
“That’s a problem,” Ava said. “Do you have a concussion? That sounds like a concussion.”
“We’re already going to the clinic, you don’t have to hound me,” Stanford said.
“Yeah, but this is serious,” Ava said. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“...hearing that the robos were approaching?” Stanford said, taking a guess at the last event that hadn’t changed.
“Okay, that’s not great,” Ava said.
“You can fill me in later,” Stanford said. After all, he had what he needed. “Look, we’re almost at the clinic, see? You probably have work, so I’ll go get checked out and I’ll call you once I’m done, okay?”
Ava paused in front of the clinic doors. “Alright,” she said, clearly hesitant. “But if I hear that you tried to get out of it-”
“You’ll kill me, I know,” Stanford said. “Don’t you want to get a peek at the new robos?”
Ava rolled her eyes, though Stanford could tell she was excited. “I’ll see you in a bit, Stanford Yu,” she said.
Stanford waved as she took off down the hallway. The moment she was safely back in the elevator, he let his expression drop and started speedwalking towards the nearest exit. He didn’t know how he ended up here, but if seeing all of those different memories taught him anything, it was that no matter what world he was in he’d always find Buddy. So, that was exactly what he was going to do.
Stanford made a beeline for the garage, grabbed his bike and helmet, and sped out into the desert. He let his instincts guide him, retracing his steps to the place where he first found Buddy.
The cave where he initially found Buddy was empty. He followed the invisible trail past it, deeper into the empty desert, even as the sun began to set. The force pulling on him got stronger the further he went, tugging him forward, reassuring him that he was going in the right direction.
Finally, he saw a familiar shape in the distance. A large figure, running across the desert sands towards him, which soon resolved into Buddy’s familiar form.
Stanford skidded to a stop in front of his Robo and ran the rest of the way, allowing Buddy to scoop him up into their palm.
“Hey, Buddy,” Stanford said, smiling with relief and tearing up a little. He took off his bike helmet and looked up, expecting the same feeling that he’d experienced from both sides in the memories, of their bond being reforged. He looked into Buddy’s eyes and waited, but the feeling never came.
“...Buddy?” Stanford asked. Buddy looked away, as if ashamed.
“What’s wrong?” he continued.
Buddy beeped sadly. It took Stanford a moment to parse, but he understood.
“What do you mean it won’t work?” he demanded, heartbroken. “It always- you remember, you saw those alternate worlds-”
Buddy just hung their head and beeped in frustration. Stanford sat down heavily on their hand, thwarted by a simple mechanical error.
But let it never be said that Stanford Yu wasn't stubborn.
Stanford looked up, an idea forming. “Lift me up,” he said.
Buddy beeped questioningly.
“Up to your face,” Stanford elaborated. “I have an idea, just trust me.”
Buddy obliged, lifting Stanford up until he was right next to their face. Stanford leaned forward, gently resting his forehead against their faceplate. Buddy stood incredibly still, waiting, as Stanford took a deep breath.
For the first time, he reached out from his side, searching for the other side of the bond that was as familiar to him as his own soul.
It wasn't easy. Humans weren’t meant to initiate a bond like this, only to recieve it; but Stanford Yu was stubborn. He breathed, and opened his heart, and stretched himself outwards until he felt like a thread stretched too thin and about to snap. Still, he searched, looking for the heart that he knew was right in front of him, his partner who would find him in every universe no matter what.
Finally, as the sun began to rise again, he found what he was looking for.
The light dimmed, and Stanford found himself floating in Buddy’s cockpit. He pulled himself into the pilot’s seat, disoriented but alive, hoping against hope that they had finally made it out.
“Buddy, you okay?” Stanford asked as he strapped himself into the seat.
I’m okay, they said, and it was wonderful to be able to fully understand them again.
We are home, Buddy added.
“Home home?” Stanford asked, leaning back so Buddy could start the link.
Home home, Buddy confirmed.
When the link connected, and Stanford could see his surroundings, he found that the two of them were in low earth orbit. The GDR field shone brightly above them, and the planet revolved slowly below them.
“Oh,” Stanford said, understanding what Buddy meant. “Home.”
They flew down through the atmosphere, aiming for the Sky Corps campus. There was a gathering of people in the pavilion outside, seated in orderly rows while General Park stood to address them. Stanford listened, intrigued, as he and Buddy silently landed behind him.
“It is with great sorrow,” General Park said, “that I stand here today to commemorate Stanford Yu, one of our finest Mech Cadets, who gave his life-”
Oh, Stanford realized. He was crashing his own funeral.
“Think we should let him know we’re here?” Stanford asked.
Allow me , Buddy said. Then, out loud: Hello, General Park!
General Park turned around, finally joining the crowd in staring up at Buddy with shock and awe. Stanford disconnected from the link and stood up, poking his head out of the hatch and waving.
“Hi there!” Stanford shouted, grinning at the shocked crowd. “You won’t believe what we saw out there!”
Dolly Yu was the first to rush forwards, sweeping past General Park in a desperate attempt to reach her son. Stanford hopped down to meet her, gladly accepting the bone-crushing hug that she wrapped him in, even if she got tears on his exosuit.
The other cadets and Captain Tanaka swiftly followed her, sweeping Stanford into a group hug. Stanford laughed, unable to explain his situation between the sobbing and general relief that he was alive.
Here, surrounded by everyone he cared about, with Buddy right by his side, Stanford was finally home.