Chapter Text
«You think they'd let me install that facecam I've been thinking about? The boys've been clamoring for that.»
«No way. The brass was already turning red when they allowed y'all to pimp your mechs. Then the internet streaming? Let's not even talk about that. That's way past their upper limit already, and I'm struggling daily to maintain those privileges.» Yong Park let out an exhasperated sigh at the other end of the line, the kind you picked up when you dealt with teenagers with far too much fame for their young egos and far too much firepower at the tip of their young fingers.
«What does it change, though? It's literally just a small camera pointed at my face! A. Small. Camera.»
«Girlie-»
«A. Small. Camera. Won't compromise the integrity of the mech at all, if that's what they're afraid of!» Another sigh, this time punctuated by the popping of bubblegum.
«Look, the answer's no. Tell your fans this'll have to wait, I dunno... You're pretty good at dealing with them, right? Do a movie ticket giveaway or something, they should like that.»
Hana chuckled. «It's been out of theaters for a month.»
«A goddamn promotion on the DVD, then. Whatever... I'll be seeing you in two hours, Hana. Don't even think of coming in late for a second, alright?» Data storage had progressed far past the point of DVD technology, but a fairly mind-boggling number of adepts swore only by these obsolete, fragile, impratical slices of plastic to satiate their thirst for visual entertainment.
Something about the sound being better or the Illuminati spying on you, from what she'd gathered.
Yong's face vanished from the rectangular screen of Hana's cellphone, and the call ended.
Good ol' Yong. Her manager and agent, busy arranging the matches, booking hostel rooms, taking care of every single little detail for her while she focused on the comparatively easier task of being the single best Starcraft II player on the planet.
When the Korean government came a-knockin' on their door to recrut her into the MEKA program, he'd leaped on the occasion to sell himself as an all-encompassing expert on the subject of e-sports – and wouldn't you know, it'd worked! The man worked closely with the government now, with the added bonus of a comfy salary.
Okay then. Two hours. Let's see how many Starcraft games she could fit in here after getting ready...
***
Eight. She'd have gone for a ninth, but really, that'd have been pushing her luck – good thing she'd gotten her pink whiskers tatooed on, these'd always been a chore to paint right! A girlish impetus'd gotten her to varnish her fingernails, but these ten magical tools deserved as much for their overwhelming speed and precision.
Hangar 3 was akin to a beehive, abuzz with technicians and engineers busy with a thousand various tasks: the MEKA pilots stuck out like a sore thumb, a handful of younger people in colourful jumpsuits lounging about in their own little bubble – talking amongst themselves, listening to music, or even gesticulating in front of a levitating camera in Hana's case.
Pre-streams were always a perfect excuse to goof around, and Hana never missed that excuse to get her fellow MEKA pilots some love in the eyes of her fans. Some didn't mind, some did. They were recruited for their skills, not how good they looked in front of a camera.
The Mobile Exo-Force. If she considered it like a family – because it kind of was -, then... she probably was the flashy older sister. Yep. The face of the group, the one everyone recognized, the one who appeared in advertisements and got starring roles in international blockbusters – D.Va. Something deep within her whispered to her ear that the others deserved more recognition, that this'd create a rift between them sooner or later. But the frantic pace of her new existence pushed these fears in the background, and everything remained the same.
She'd never minded the limelight – in fact, she relished it -, but her new job came with its own responsibilities. She didn't only pilot one of their precious mechs, she was also half of their PR.
She spied Yong walking in their direction.
Alright, Hana Song with her apprehensions could stay in the hangar. It was D.Va's turn to soar into the skies.
«Everyone, fall back to the V formation!»
A quick but precise movement of her wrists brought D.Va behind Ha-Sun's green mech, and Rick's grey machine fell into step an instant later. «Still haven't glamed up that new model, Rick? It looks kinda sad right now.»
Rick's deep voice resounded in her earpiece. «And have to paint it again when it gets scrapped? This thing'll bear every scar it gets proudly.» Rick, always with the plain-speaking bravado – he'd have teabagged that damn Omnic and called it a bitch if he could have. Maybe that was what coming from a FPS background did to you. Which version of Counter-Strike was it again? The one where you shot terrorists, right?
Questionable attitude aside, he was damn impressive – a friggin' surgeon with his long-range fusion auto-cannons. They all were, really – the best of the best, the creamest of the cropest.
The group swerved to the left, then dove down until their thrusters left deep trails in the ocean's water – all the while keeping their formation by the millimeter. Flight exercises were pretty dull affairs for the members of the unit who cared more about shooting than maneuvering, but she relished every second she spent behind that green bulletproof glass, her hands on the joysticks, fingers prone to pull the triggers or activate the defense matrix at a moment's notice.
Another swerve, then all seven of them took a sharp turn towards the clouds. All of it was a long, tireless effort to build the right reflexes – working as a team, following protocol, keeping everyone safe.
A chill ran down every new pilot's spine as they entered the cockpit, as they wrapped their fingers around the joysticks, as they felt the complex machinery follow their every command like an extension of their own body: the temptation to play maverick was as strong as it was deadly.
A flash came from above. A few dozen feet to her left, something exploded into a sphere of sparks, then something else exploded against Joo-won's mech.
D.Va's vision became pure white for an instant as the blast sent the group flying apart. «What the f-... bogey on our twelve!» a feminine voice roared over the commotion – the voice was distorted and parasited. A low-pitched whine grew in intensity somewhere to her right, and she regained her bearings just in time to veer out of the way of another incoming missile.
This wasn't part of the training. She knew that before HQ yelled that they'd picked no radar signatures and ordered them to head back to base over the radio. Three black, menacing silhouettes discarded the cover of the cloudline, leaving three parallel white trails behind them as they curved to flank the group: planes. Their machines were quick and sturdy, but fighter jets still had them beat when it came to speed.
Another shimmery explosion. The controls felt sluggish, unresponsive – something had messed with them. Their mechs were designed to resist everything disruptive that Omnic could throw at them, which was one of the reasons why they put actual people in there – so how?
No time to think. Their attackers had the advantage of surprise, and they'd screwed with their machines. It'd have been a waltz with their mechs at full capacity: without, it was more akin to a group of flying sharks closing in on a shoal of metallic, colorful fish outfitted with cutting-edge weaponry.
«Squad, come in! Please someone say something!» Her voice reached no one, echoing against the metallic enclosure of her cockpit – for a moment, Hana Song jumped into the cockpit, a breath perished in her throat, and blood flushed away from her face.
Out of her mech, she could have called to her squad, tried to mount a proper defensive tactic – but not at this speed. They were all trapped in their machines, each of them on their own, forced to navigate by sight. They'd done this before, but it'd never been real.
What the hell was she thinking?
D.Va took a deep breath, reaffirmed her grip on the joysticks, a smirk came to her lips, and her eyes focused on what she had to defeat. There, it was over.
Her cockpit resonated with several shocks as a hail of bullets hit her side – she whipped around, firing a volley of fusion cannon shots to retaliate. But the mech was too slow, the shots too innacurate – the plane flew by and amorced a turn to fire again. Only Rick seemed to come even close to landing a shot.
Their communications were scrambled – reflexes kicked in, and they fell back into something close to a formation. Joo-won's mech was nowhere to be seen – in the water, probably. The planes sped above, below, danced circles around all six of them, evading all their attempts at counter-attacking.
A defense matrix shot down one more missile – her fingers moved faster than they'd ever had. She could feel the beads of sweat rolling down her brow. They were never going to win on their own, but they could stall the encounter until reinforcements came.
The plane charged from their six. D.Va pulled back as strongly as her arms would allow, and the shock of her sudden braking then the downward pull of gravity brought her stomach dangerously close to her lips: she pressed both triggers harder than she'd ever had, and prayed.
The jet's shots missed, but hers didn't. There was an explosion as her fusion cannons ravaged her foe's underside: she'd hit something important. The white trail turned black, and the aircraft slowed down – for one second only, but even with their sluggish machines one second was enough. One second of focused fire, and it exploded. Now we're talking.
Good, perfect, awesome. Her thrusters roared as she fell back into step – the two remaining jets looped for yet another attack. Another volley came – she primed her thumbs over the matrix's triggers, and pressed down.
Nothing happened. She pressed again. Nothing. Again. Nothing.
Two missiles hit in quick succession. Then another one. A sound like metal screaming in pain rung in her ears, then the shrill wail of an alarm.
A gel-like, foamy substance filled the machine's cockpit to cushion her as the mecha's flight systems failed. She didn't count the seconds before she hit the ground, but her last thought before she lost consciousness surprised even herself:
I hope the suscribers didn't see that.