《Code Name: GLITCH》GLITCH
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Xiomar sat in the back corner of the Mess Hall, as far from everyone else as possible, drinking coffee while he read his book. What could possibly have given a mech sentience? It was unheard of.
He knew he must have read that book a thousand times since he was a kid, but he felt also felt like he had to have missed something. Would he have to resort to taking the entire thing apart just to find out what was going on? If he took it apart, would it die? Could it even be considered "dying"?
He didn't bother looking up when he heard the scrape of the bench on the other side of the table, and the shadow of another person sitting across from him fell on his book. He just hoped it wasn't Maddox trying to mess with him again.
"You've been at the punching bags without wraps again, haven't you?"
"You're in my light," Xiomar said, lowering his book with a sigh and placing it on his lap. One of his fellow officers, Major Reina Rivera, was staring him down.
"Answer the question."
"And if I have?" he asked, glancing down at his hands. They were dark and bruised, and his knuckles were scabbed over with dry blood. "So what?"
"You're a mechanic, Xio... Chief Mechanic. How are you supposed to do your job if you punch the bags until you can't move your fingers?"
"I can move them," he said. He gritted his teeth as he wiggled his aching fingers to assure her that he was fine.
"You're such a liar, Xio! The pain is written all over your face, and I can see your hands shaking from across the room while you try to hold your coffee."
"Well..." Xiomar lifted his book and went back to reading a chapter about wiring. "It's better than taking my anger out on Maddox's face, isn't it?"
"That's not the point." Reina shook her head, her brow furrowed in disdain. "Why do you care what some idiot like Maddox says about you anyway? You know he's just trying to piss you off, and you let him. He's just jealous."
"What do you want, Rei?" Xiomar asked, lowering his book again to take a sip of his coffee. "You only come around when you want something. If you're just here to bitch at me about my fight with Maddox and mother me about the punching bags, go away."
"Don't be like that. I just wanted to check on you. I've been so busy with my new recruits that I haven't had time to see you, and I know you've been avoiding me anyway."
"Check on me?" He let out a forced laugh as he thought back on the last time she had visited him. Sleeping with a fellow officer wasn't exactly against the rules, but it wasn't the kind of relationship Xiomar wanted either. "I don't need you to come around, unless you plan on coming by the hangar to do some real work."
"Oh, come on, Xio." Reina laughed, and Xiomar clenched his aching fists. Every time she laughed, he felt like she was mocking him. "Don't act like you don't enjoy it."
"I'm human, Rei—of course I enjoy it. But I don't want it, so put it out of your mind."
"Fine. Let me help you work, then," she said with a grin, resting her chin on her hands. "I know Lotharing put you in charge of that old mech... the one the guys say is cursed. I'd love to get a look at it."
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"Well, if it's cursed, maybe that's a good thing. The last four people who dealt with it died... hopefully I'll be next."
"Don't say shit like that." A dark, serious look fell over Reina's face, and she crossed her arms as she stared him down.
"Whatever." He finished off his coffee quickly before he stood up. "I've got work to do, and I don't have the time or energy for you right now. I'll talk to Lotharing about letting you check out the mech, but I'm not making any promises. See you around."
Reina didn't say anything, and he was glad for that. The last time he'd seen her, they'd gotten into a shouting match, and he didn't want to repeat it, especially not in the Mess Hall a day after he'd already gotten into another fight with Maddox.
***
"No," Lotharing said, not even bothering to look up from his paperwork. "Whatever the question is, the answer is 'no.' Get your ass back to the hangar."
"Nice to see you, too," Xiomar said, leaning back in his seat and putting his feet up on Lotharing's desk.
The general let out a long sigh, putting his pen down, and he pushed his paperwork aside. He eyed Xiomar's boots with contempt, but didn't say anything before he rested his chin on his hands.
"What do you want, Xio?"
"Reina wants to help me work on the mech."
"Absolutely not."
"Why?" Xiomar put his feet down and sat up straight. "I've been working my ass off for months now, and I've hardly gotten anywhere with this thing besides replacing some rusted ligaments and burnt-out old wires. This is a team job—you know that. It normally requires at least five people to work on the Valkyries and Reavers for The Valhalla Project, and you've got me working by myself on a mech that's at least ten times more complicated to deal with! I'm Chief Mechanic—I should be able to get as much help as I want or need."
"If you need five people to fix it, then it'll take you five times longer to fix it," Lotharing said, leaning back in his chair, "which means you spend five times longer out of the stockades. I'd love to help you out, Xio, but you've got to see it from my side. You've gotten under Dufault's skin more than enough already—I'm trying to keep you out of trouble with this project. You're lucky he saw what happened between you and Maddox yesterday, otherwise you'd be scrubbing the barracks showers with your toothbrush right now."
"Can I at least show Reina the mech? Is that so bad?"
"Fine." Lotharing let out a long, frustrated breath. He picked his pen back up and gathered a messy stack of paperwork. "But you are not, under any circumstances, to tell her the details of the mech or your assignment. That's an order, Major Haydn."
"You got it, Old Man," Xiomar said as he jumped to his feet and gave the general a half-assed salute. Lotharing shook his head, but Xiomar could see him trying to hold back a smile.
"Get the hell out of my office."
***
"I don't see what's so special about it," Reina said, running her hand across the mech's console. "It's exactly like every other mech, except maybe the outside. Even then, the reason it's so small is because it's got hardly any armor, and no weapons. The Valkyries and Reavers all sort of look like that underneath all their gear. Why doesn't it have any weapons?"
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"Beats me." Xiomar shrugged and sat in the pilot's seat. He put his feet up on the console with a heavy sigh. "Well, that's all there is to see. Like you said, there's nothing special. At least, nothing that I can find."
"Oh, come on, Xio." Reina rolled her eyes. She crossed her arms, leaning back against the console. "You can't tell me that there isn't one thing about this mech that sets it apart from all the Valkyries and Reavers on this base. Why would Lotharing refuse to destroy it for almost two decades and then suddenly let you, and only you, work to get it up and running again?"
"Well, I am Chief Mechanic. Maybe he thinks I can find something that no one else could. So far, it's all just basic wear and tear and rust from sitting here for fifteen years. I'm surprised it's in such good condition, actually. I had to replace almost all of its ligaments, but those are one of the only parts that show signs of aging. I can power it on, but it doesn't really do anything but scan things. The console doesn't do anything either, so it probably needs new circuits or a whole new power system. Who knows? I'll have to test it with a Sync-Suit first."
Xiomar didn't tell her about the mech's sentience. For one, he'd been ordered not to, but he also didn't feel that Reina needed to know. In fact, it was probably something nobody needed to know. The original pilot and Lotharing had kept it to themselves, and Xiomar saw no reason to start divulging everyone's secrets.
"Everyone says it's cursed," Reina said, letting out a small laugh. "Stupid superstitions, I guess. After all, you're still alive."
"Well, we'll see. Once I get it moving, it might turn on me."
"That's not funny, Xio," she scolded. "Some of the other officers are worried about you being up here by yourself all the time. It's not good to be confined all day on your own. What if something happens to you while you're up here? No one would even know."
"Tell them to mind their own business," he said with a scowl. "They don't care about me any other time of the day, so just let me work."
Xiomar put his feet down, and accidentally kicked the power switch under the console. The three screens appeared, and the compartment was filled with bright purple light.
"Scanning now," the mech said. "Major Xiomar Haydn detected. Major Reina Rivera detected."
"Whoa!" Reina's jaw dropped, her eyes scanning all of the data that had appeared on the screens. "How does it know all of this stuff?"
"No idea," Xiomar said, switching the mech off again. The last thing he needed was for it to start chatting with her. She wasn't supposed to know anything about it. "Let's get out of here."
"That's all you're going to show me?"
"Sorry." Xiomar shrugged. "General's orders."
"Fine," she said in a whining voice. "You could at least spend some time with me."
"No. Go home, Rei."
"Xiomar Haydn!" Reina leaned forward, her hands on either of Xiomar's forearms, pinning them to the armrests so he couldn't stand up. "I've hardly seen you at all since you've been wasting all your time on this stupid mech. You obviously wanted to see me, otherwise you wouldn't have bothered even asking Lotharing if you could show me, never mind letting me up here with you alone. Stop pretending like you have no interest in being around me!"
"I have plenty of interest being around you!" Xiomar shifted in the seat, sitting up straighter, and they stared each other down. "But your idea of keeping me company is a hell of a lot different than mine!"
"Oh, please..." She rolled her eyes and let out a sigh of frustration. "You're not still all hung up on that, are you? I'm not going to date you."
"This is why you haven't seen me. This is why we fought last time. I'm not looking for sex—I want something more in my life, and if you're not willing to provide it, then get out of my face!"
"Make me," she said. She had a smug grin on her face, even though Xiomar was practically shouting at her, and she leaned in, pressing her lips to the side of his neck.
Xiomar inhaled a sharp breath through his nose, gripping the arms of the chair tightly. He knew as well as she did that he couldn't just "make her." If he shoved her away, she'd fall against the console. She could be badly injured. Even if she wasn't hurt, she'd threatened to report him for assault in the past to get her way. What could he do?
"Leave me alone, Rei!" Xiomar shifted in his seat, trying to move away from her, but there wasn't much he could do. Pilots' seats were designed to prevent the pilots from moving around too much, to prevent injury. Something that was built to protect people was the very thing that had him trapped. "Stop!"
"Quit your whining!" She shook her head as she reached for the zipper on his jumpsuit. "You said yourself that you enjoy it."
"But I don't want it!" He grabbed her wrist, but not tightly enough to stop her. He couldn't risk doing anything that might leave a mark. Dufault already hated his guts—if Reina reported him with anything she could use as evidence, even the smallest bruise, the general would probably shoot him. "Why do you always do this?"
"If you'd just relax, you'd enjoy yourself too. I know you want it."
"No, I don't! Why won't you listen to me?"
"Because you're a liar."
"I'm not! Why don't you understand about—"
Xiomar's voice caught in his throat as she leaned in and kissed him, running her cool hands across his exposed torso. He let out an involuntary moan, his hands shaking.
"See?" She laughed that same old mocking laughter that Xiomar despised. "You always say no, but sooner or later you give in."
"It's not funny," Xiomar growled, feeling his face get hot.
The only reason he gave in was because she never took no for an answer, and she threatened him if she didn't get what she wanted. He couldn't risk fighting back—he couldn't do anything that she could use against him. It was no secret that they'd been sleeping together on and off for the past three years, but if she ever made good on her threats, and anyone thought he'd been abusing her, he'd likely get his skull bashed in by the other officers.
So, he suffered in silence, his face red with anger and shame as he allowed her to push his sleeves off his arms. The way her eyes ran over his body reminded him of a hungry dog waiting for someone to drop a piece of meat.
"What the hell are you staring at?"
"I love it when you're angry," She said, laughing again. She ran her fingers gingerly across his biceps, and it made his skin crawl. "You always look so slim in your suit—I forgot how muscular you really are."
"There are so many reasons why we shouldn't be doing this."
"Lighten up, Xio."
He closed his eyes, wishing he could be somewhere else. Anywhere else. His body betrayed his mind while he resisted the urge to throw Reina off of him.
He knew he couldn't report her, either. Not unless he wanted everyone to laugh in his face or beat the crap out of him for being a pansy. He was hated enough without trying to convince a bunch of grown men that he was being abused by a female officer that was half his size.
***
Xiomar stayed up late that night, showering long after the water had run cold. His skin was red and raw from too much scrubbing, and he was shivering as the icy water ran down his back. Nothing ever seemed to get him clean enough.
He finally gave up on his fruitless attempt to feel less disgusting. He didn't bother getting dressed after he dried off, stumbling his exhausted body into bed. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, wishing he'd been born into a better life, until he didn't have the energy to keep his eyes open anymore.
"You're nothing but a curse to me... just a black spot on my heart."
A young Xiomar, barely sixteen, was standing in the middle of the kitchen, his eyes wide as he clutched his cheek where his mother had just struck him. What had he done wrong? All he'd wanted was to show her the new gloves he'd gotten from—
"I hate you," she said, tears running freely down her face, but no emotion in her voice, and Xiomar's mouth fell open. She didn't mean that, did she? "I hate you, and I've had enough."
From the pocket of her apron, she pulled out an old pistol... one that his father used to carry. Xiomar's heart started to pound frantically. Why did she have it?
"I've had enough," she repeated. "I can't look at you anymore."
As she lifted the weapon, Xiomar took a fearful step back. Was she going to shoot him? What was the matter with her? Had he really made her that angry?
"Mom, I'm sorry... I was just—"
"Shut up, Xio!" she shrieked, and more tears ran down his face. What was wrong with her? "It's over!"
Xiomar didn't even have time to look away. His mother put the pistol to the side of her head and pulled the trigger.
Xiomar shot up in bed. He was drenched in sweat, and his chest heaved with quick, labored breaths. He could hear the rain beating on the windows, and every minute or so, the room was flooded with bright flashes of lightning, followed by deafening booms of thunder.
"Shit," he breathed, holding his head in his hands.
He hadn't had a nightmare about his mother in months—he only had them during particularly rough thunderstorms. He supposed his unconscious mind mistook the thunder for gunshots, although real guns didn't bother him while he was awake. He'd be a pretty poor soldier if he couldn't handle the sound of gunfire.
Unable to fall back asleep for fear of another nightmare, Xiomar decided to do something against the rules. He got dressed and bundled up in rain gear before slipping out into the barracks. No one would see him—visibility in the storm was too low for the outpost guards to notice, even if he tried to scale the wall right in front of their faces.
He made his way to Mech Hangar 11 without raising any alarms—his acrobatics training always came in handy whenever he wanted to sneak out. He used to do it at the orphanage too, climbing walls and jumping fences.
Leaving his soaked rain-clothes at the foot of the mech, Xiomar climbed up into the pilot's compartment. It was warm and dry, and Xiomar let out a tired breath as he slumped down into the seat, kicking the power on. The entire compartment was flooded with light, the purple scanners going over him like they always did, and the three projection screens appeared with all of his information.
"Major Xiomar Haydn detected."
"I have a question for you," Xiomar said, watching the lights pulse with his words. "A couple of questions, actually. Please don't shut down this time when I ask."
The lights above him pulsed for a moment, as though the mech were pondering Xiomar's words. How much could it think? Did it have feelings?
"Voice recognition registered. Communication with pilot is open."
"What's your name?"
"No registered code name. Original pilot died before the end of active duty."
"When was that?"
"December 5th, 1990 BGW. Time of Death: 5:03am."
"What happened to the pilot?"
At first, the mech didn't answer, and Xiomar was afraid it was going to shut itself down like it had the first time. But then the projection screens merged into one, and a video was pulled up. The view was from inside the compartment, on the other side of the pilot's console. A young man was slumped over in a pool of his own blood... someone Xiomar immediately recognized.
"Is that... Acennan Pierce? Acennan Pierce was your pilot?"
Of course, anyone could recognize the unruly red hair and bright green eyes of Acennan Pierce. He was a famous soldier, and even more famous mech pilot. In the first of the Great Wars, Acennan became known for being dropped directly on the front lines with his mechs. He never lost a battle, but he never took a life.
"Major Acennan Pierce was killed in combat," the mech stated, and the video began to play.
Acennan pushed himself up on his arms with a groan of pain. One of his eyes was swollen shut, and his face was covered in blood from a gash in his brow.
"Blood pressure and heart rate dropping. Major contusion to the lower torso and blood loss increasing. Three fractured ribs, one collapsed lung. Breathing irregular. Emergency medical attention is necessary, and—"
"Are you getting cold feet on me, GLITCH?" Acennan questioned, a smirk on his face. How could he be smiling when even Xiomar could see that he was dying. "I can't just drop everything and run now. If you're not with me, then switch to auto-pilot and ignore my orders."
"Ace, I cannot recommend that we continue this mission. If you die, then—"
"Don't worry," he said, patting the console with one bloody hand. His voice was weak, and his breathing labored. "Nothing's gonna happen to you while I'm around. We're a team 'til the end. Besides, Lotharing said he'd take care of you if anything ever happened to me."
Xiomar's eyes went wide. Lotharing and Acennan had worked together? So, that's why he was so uptight about who got to work with the mech.
"Blood pressure still dropping. Loss of consciousness determined to be less than two minutes."
"It's too bad... "Acennan coughed, spitting up blood onto the console. "I should have found a replacement before I left."
"I do not require a new pilot, if you would—"
"That kid would've been perfect for you, GLITCH. The one I told you about... that I gave my gloves to... You should've seen the way he looked at you, even though you were all covered in cloth. He broke into the hangar on his own too—he's got guts."
The mech rumbled and shook violently, and Acennan was jostled in his seat. He winced and coughed up more blood, but then laughed softly.
"Loss of consciousness in one minute. Ace, please... If you do not get medical help immediately, then you—"
"It's okay," he said weakly, the color draining from his face. He reached out, pressing a sequence of buttons on the console. From the angle of the video, Xiomar couldn't tell which ones.
"Ace, wait!"
"Engage full link with the Sync-Suit, and transfer to auto-pilot," Acennan commanded, and it seemed as though the mech had no other choice but to oblige. How had he done it?
"Sorry, GLITCH." There was a pained smile on Acennan's face as his tears fell on the console. "You're on your own."
He covered his mouth in horror as Acennan dropped onto the console, still smiling, his eyes still open. The mech pronounced him dead, and then the video cut out.
Xiomar closed his eyes, trying to hold back the wave of nausea that flooded his body, and involuntary tears ran down his cheeks. He couldn't believe what he'd just watched.
"Why are you crying?"
Xiomar covered his face with his hands, trying to catch his breath, but his breathing came out as sobs instead.
"I met him," he finally managed to choke out. "The kid he gave his gloves to... I broke into the hangar the afternoon before he left on that mission. I was just a teenager, before I joined the Army, but it was me. I still wear them."
"I know that. Acennan wore them every day, just like you. I would recognize them on any hands."
Xiomar stared down at his gloved hands. There was a small A stitched into the cuffs. He let out a long sigh, placing his hand on the console.
"I don't understand..." Xiomar closed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts. "How do you know so much?"
"Acennan was my pilot. For years, we—"
"I'm not talking about the gloves. I mean everything. How could Pierce even have created you? How do you have your own mind? You're a machine—a weapon for the army."
"I was not built as a weapon for the army."
"What are you then?" Xiomar remembered General Lotharing telling him that this mech hadn't been built as part of The Valhalla Project. So, what was it meant for instead?
"I was built by Major Acenna Pierce as a companion, and a tool for peaceful negotiation on the battlefield. I am not equipped with weapons, nor am I able to move without pilot sync. My physical capabilities only extend as far as the pilot's. If the situation demands it, I may be used to engage in physical combat, but I am programmed to avoid loss of life whenever possible."
"Okay... one more question. What does it feel like when I turn you off?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean?" If the mech could think, then it must have some capacity for feelings, right? "You must know when you're being turned on and off, right?"
"It feels like..." The lights pulsed for a moment. "It feels like nothing. I suppose, to you, it would be like falling asleep and waking up."
"But you don't get to decide when to power on and off—the pilot just flips a switch. Doesn't that bother you?"
"I am able to shut down if I choose, but I cannot reboot on my own. I cannot be 'bothered' by the lack of decision, as I do not comprehend the word."
"Bothered?" Xiomar scratched his head. How could he make a machine understand something so human? He placed his hands on his stomach just below his chest. "Like... when something doesn't feel right... it doesn't sit well with you... in here."
The lights pulsed for a few moments before the mech finally spoke again.
"I had issues once with faulty wiring, when Major Acennan Pierce died. Electricity surged through the wiring in the pilot's compartment, and most of my body lost power. With Ace dead and the wiring burnt out, I was not able to stay linked with Ace's Sync-Suit. I was returned to this base by General Edward Lotharing. Multiple attempts were made to assign a new pilot, but link capabilities remained faulty."
"Remained faulty?" Xiomar's pulse quickened, and his breath came out in short, excited huffs as he jumped to his feet. "So, the pilots' deaths weren't your fault! When you shut down and that pilot died... when the link with the second pilot's Sync-Suit failed... that's why you switched to auto-pilot, isn't it? But I bet it still didn't work!"
"The third and final tester lost his footing after an unusual power surge discharged on his leg."
So, the mech wasn't cursed after all. Xiomar could barely contain the excitement that built up in chest, his hands shaking. Everyone was wrong about the mech. It hadn't taken anyone's life intentionally—it was just grieving the death of its original pilot, and the wiring didn't have the capacity for the mech's emotions. Of course copper wiring couldn't handle human emotions!
"Blood pressure and heart rate have elevated. Do you require medical attention?"
"No," Xiomar breathed, pressing his hand to his chest. Maybe he could be the mech's new pilot. "I'm better than ever. I have to tell Lotharing about this!"
Xiomar headed for the compartment door, but he stopped as his fingers reached the handle. He looked back, his eyes scanning the room, looking around at all the pulsing lights in the ceiling.
"One last thing," he said, his thoughts running a mile a minute. He had to take slow, deep breaths to stay composed enough to form a sentence. "Pierce called you 'GLITCH.' What does that mean?"
"I have no registered code name. However, GLITCH is my unregistered name, given by Major Acennan Pierce."
"GLITCH, huh?" Xiomar couldn't help but smile. "It suits you."
"Are you not going to shut me down before you leave?"
Xiomar eyed the console from where he stood on the other side of the compartment, and then he shook his head.
"No. You shut down when you're good and ready," he told the mech, opening the door to leave. "Goodnight, GLITCH."
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