Just Deserts and Other Confectionaries

The lights came on in the hangar to an autopsy of horrible proportions. The Pilgrim laid spread out across the room with the main body placed in the center. Its arms were splayed out straight from the shoulders with all its detached and fractured pieces placed adjacent to their original position. Shards and scrap metal left behind in the arena that were too small to process were placed in dozens of sweeper bins around the outside of the repair platform. Several dozen oil-stained tarps covered the floor underneath the pilgrim giving the technically advanced hangar a humbler garage feel. Even if the ‘car’ was a destroyed mech.

“It looks a lot worse in the light.” Harrison said walking towards the stairs, Marjorie following close behind. “When I was being thrashed, I thought it would need a frame uplift and some new axels, at worst maybe even new limbs but this, this is a lot worse.” Harrison and Marjorie touched down on the ground level and approached the platform at the Pilgrim’s left side. Harrison jumped up and grabbed the ledge of the platform then threw his leg up rolling onto it. He stood and knelt to give a hand to Marjorie and hoisted her up. Standing level with the Pilgrim was a far different feeling then looking down on it from above. From above this mess seemed almost organized but from here, it looked like they were trying to piece together a plane crash.

Harrison and Marjorie each went in different direction to observe the mess. Harrison went right towards the head stepping over the couch sized hand trying to get a better semblance of how much repairs might cost. Marjorie turned towards the right trying to find that answer for herself, noticing a great deal of the Pilgrim’s storage and weapon compartments were empty as she walked down the length of the legs. Harrison winced as he turned around the shoulder to see the head. The protective glass screen was shattered, shards framing the would-be camera array if the cameras weren’t each laid out to the side. Harrison picked one up to see it better, but it came apart in his hands, bolts breaking in their holes and the shattered lenses falling to the floor with the slightest tilt.

“This is easily a couple hundred grand in repairs my guy.” Marjorie yelled. Fighting with a twisted compartment lock as she tried to bend it so it would close again, slamming it in place for a couple of seconds before it popped back out. Harrison looked over the edge of the platform looking at his weapons on a wide table down below. His turrets as smashed in as they were looked like the tops of soup cans. His remaining proximity and normal grenades were still sound, but with no place to store them that wasn’t compromised they sat in several plastic tubs stacked haphazardly. “I doubt that’s safe.” Harrison said.

“Oh, it isn’t.” A voice responded to his statement, nearly scaring Harrison half to death. Cleo had arrived as quietly as a cat, walking towards Harrison with her surprisingly now clearly audible heel clicks. Harrison quickly questioned why he didn’t hear them before but stopped when he saw what she was carrying. Cleo noticed him noticing her and grinned. “Well, you seem pretty curious about your new ceremony garb, eh? I got the go ahead to pick it up this morning, but I couldn’t be bothered picking up your dry cleaning for you, so I was just going to let you fry.” Marjorie came around the other side of the mech and looked at Cleo, immediately lighting up when she realized what she was holding.

“So, what compelled you to go get it?” Harrison said jumping down and walking towards Cleo. “You did get your but handed to you. I felt bad so I thought I’d do something nice for you, you know, before I have to fix ALL THIS.” Cleo gestured towards the Pilgrim as a piece of metal from somewhere hit the ground with a clang. Cleo walked up to Harrison and tossed the clothing bag into his arms, Harrison fumbling to catch it. “It may just be better to get a new one.” Cleo said climbing a small ladder up the platform, unexpectedly meeting Marjorie at the top. Marjorie grew flustered remembering their improper meeting earlier in the day. She brushed off her skirt and straightened her top before sticking her hand out to greet Cleo properly. “Hello Ms., my name is Marjorie Rheiner and I didn’t have the opportunity to introduce myself to you properly earlier.” Cleo looked at Marjorie once over before a little lightbulb went off in her head, pointing at her enthusiastically. “I REMEMBER YOU. You’re the girl who would come over when I was babysitting that clown.”

Marjorie confused lifted her head and stared at Cleo. Her memories clashed over the women in front of her eventually finding one of a girl with large blonde ponytail with braces and freckles. Marjorie looked at Cleo a bit closer noticing her freckles climbing over the bridge of her nose resting cheek to cheek. Marjorie shocked herself matched Cleo’s excitement as they realizations collided into a reunion of circumstance.

“What are you doing here?” Marjorie asked her, wondering how Harrison’s babysitter went on to become Harrison’s lead engineer. “My father pulled some strings and got me this cozy position here. He may not have been a pilot like y’all parents were but if anyone knows about repairing mechs it’d be him, and by extension me.” Marjorie racked her brain again trying to remember Cleo’s last name hoping it was something big and obvious. Cleo not wanting to see the poor girl struggle her process along. “Yeah, my dad is one of the largest manufacturers of mecha in the state at Waller Industries,” she said, dropping the lead for Marjorie to catch on. “IT’D BE A SHAME IF HIS KID DIDN’T AT LEAST TRY TO LIVE UP TO THAT STANDARD.” She then yelled, not aiming it at Marjorie but instead directing the more personal message towards Harrison.

Harrison who had been observing his service attire stuck his middle finger up in the air towards Cleo, being met with a similar response. Cleo Waller was the daughter of prominent mecha mobile Quincy Waller, Creator and CEO of Waller Industries. After the war they rose to prominence supplying cheap mechs for reconstruction across the United States and Canada employing a large portion of the Midwest with factories in almost every state. The conglomerate even employed both of Harrison’s parents for various reason from promotional branding to test piloting, paying them more then enough to afford their house and their lifestyle.

“As much as I’d like to catch up and we will catch up. Mrs. A sent me down here to fetch you for the ceremony. You may not want to go you stubborn ape but this isn’t really for you. This is for them.” Cleo and Marjorie made their way down the ladder coming up to Harrison who had placed several of the bomb bins down on the floor to make space for his uniform. Spotless and freshly tailored, Harrison’s Sentinel uniform was as red and orange as the Pilgrim’s

holo-coat. A maroon beret sat on the table with a red blazer and matching pants laid out next to them. A black belt and shoes with a pair of orange socks and a tie sat to the right as Harrison placed down a pair of orange gloves. Harrison still deciding whether he wanted to go slowly leaned towards going, having an obligation to his team and his mother now that he was conscious again. “All right best get ready.” Harrison looked at his watch and immediately picked up his pace picking up all the articles of clothing and jumping behind a partial wall. “If anyone of you look at me while I’m changing, I’ll fire you both.” Harrison yelled as Marjorie and Cleo looked on. “Want to help me bring around the car?” Cleo said to Marjorie, holding out her hand and dangling the key ring in front of her. “Gladly she responded”. Marjorie and Cleo set off to the garage as Harrison fumbled with his uniform, all three getting anxious for the award ceremony.

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The ceremony that came after a League match was something to behold. On a specialized hovering vehicle both teams stood or sat in their team’s service uniform on a 1:1 scale replica of a chess board. Each pilot stood in their associated square while on the game board in darkness their mechs stood unattended in their starting positions. The game maker would begin by acknowledging the best performing players from the match and would hand out awards and promotions to pilots who met certain milestones in battle. These awards ranged from special materials, weapons, tech, or parts for mechs to badges and ribbons for achievement and acknowledgment. Upon being called a pilot would be highlighted simultaneously with their mech to draw focus. If a pawn were to reach promotion in the game their King would announce which piece they were being promoted to. The ceremony was designed to be a friendly ritual for both teams to acknowledge their strengths and honor the fight. But for Harrison, it was much different.

At the beginning of the match Harrison was determined to play greatly enough to get badge after badge and ribbon after ribbon. But despite his goals the only thing he wanted to see was the Queen’s face. He wanted to look her in the eye as he received his awards to make her know that she hadn’t defeated him. That one day he’d be strong enough to take her. Harriosn finished straightening his tie as he made his way out to a red and orange car on the main avenue. Cleo was driving and Marjorie was in the backseat, opening the door for Harrison as he slipped inside. “Took you long enough.” Cleo said, tearing up the street as she glanced at her watch. 2:00 minutes until the ceremony. “Sorry sorry I had to use the bathroom. I forgot to go when I woke up.”

Cleo flew down the street eventually reaching a down ramp that led into the pit, the hole that surrounded the game board. She quickly looked to her left and right hoping to find a lift so she could get up to the game board finding one just about to pull off the square it was attached too. “Don’t strain yourself Cleo I mean if we can’t make it, we can’t make it.” Harrison said.

Cleo put her foot down as the car picked up speed. “Sounds like someone doesn’t want to face their problems.” Cleo shot back, now blowing on the horn. The crew detaching the mobile lift stopping as Cleo turned into sudden stop. The driver of the lift hung out his window tapping his watch as if to say, “You’re too late, turn around.” Cleo bent back in her seat looking at Harrison telling him to get out of the car, which Harrison did begrudgingly. The lift operators now understanding the urgency seeing the pilot in dress immediately moved the lift back into place as Cleo went to get in position. A ramp descended over the top of the lifts cab as the elevator shaft extended upwards gripping several holds running up the side of the square.

The driver shot Cleo a thumbs up and the trio drove onto the lift, a metal plate meeting them at the opening of the elevator. They drove onto it as the gate behind them closed and they rocketed off, climbing the several stories deep pit in a matter of seconds. Once the gate released them at the top Cleo took off driving along the tops of the squares towards the middle of the board where the ceremony was taking place. Marjorie wonderstruck looked at the mechs standing in darkness as they tore across the surface. It was after all her first time on a professional board. As they continued going a shape came into place getting larger and larger until they were facing the ceremony barge. All the Sentinel’s pilots looked at the car and the Golems who could see it wondered what this surprise may have been. Cleo slammed on the breaks coming to a halt just as she reached the stairs to the board. She looked in her rear-view mirror as several small lights from other service vehicles quickly sped after them and she shooed Harrison out. “Don’t stand down in the face of danger.” Cleo said, before tearing off back to the lift with Marjorie who blew Harrison a kiss through the rear-view window. Harrison returning it before turning to look at the ceremony skid.

Harrison started walking to the stairs as he noticed his face on all the broadcasting screens. Seeing this he looked up and noticed the stadiums drone looking over him circling him for any photo opportunities as they come. Harrison quickened his step as he reached the top of the board being met with nearly 3 dozen stares from a lot of dressed up people. Harrison looked at his team quickly shimmying to his spot to avoid their further gaze, only to be met by the Golem’s staring at him. One pilot’s stare was quite familiar as Harrison looked on to see Adeline dressed in a gray and black service skirt with a gray beret staring daggers at him like she always does. Harrison briefly questioned why so many berets but was interrupted by the game maker clearing his throat. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we gather here to honor all of those pilots who deserved special recognition this match. Tonight, we will award them with the highest of achievements and performance for the first time in the new season.” The game maker paused as the crowds’ cheers tore through the stadium and quieted down again. Several pilots still lingered on Harrison’s late arrival but eventually turned back to the game maker.

“I would like to start off this ceremony by awarding the Sentinel that made the winning move against the King, Rebecca Tark.” Harrison turned to his right as the left most rook was illuminated by a light underneath her, waving politely as the crowd cheered. Her unit behind her, a fortified Caulfell unit stood under its own beacon of light as the applause died down and she approached the podium to win her “Check” badge. A small blue emblem given to the piece that made the killing move against the other teams King to win the round. Rebecca then walked out to the center of the board as the Golem’s King walked out to greet her. The two shook hands then turned about face and returned to their spots.

The ceremony continued like this for nearly 30 minutes. Paul and Kiera didn’t win any awards, but Kinjiro won one for defeating the Queen dubbed the Red Star. It was a small rectangle with a red star in the middle, not the rarest but still neat regarding the accomplishment. The game maker shuffled some papers as Harrison noticed his mother miraculously appear from the stairs behind him and take her place to his left, receiving the papers and stepping up to the podium as he sat back. “Guess tardiness runs in the family.” It was quiet but Harrison still heard it and looked behind him. Xavier was there to meet his gaze and the two locked eyes before the bishop, Daiyu Zhang, threatened the two to not disrupt the ceremony with their pettiness, able to tell what was happening before it happened and shutting it down. The two turned to forward as Amy Andross took to the podium.

To finish our ceremony, we have selected three awards that truly highlight the spirit of the League and will be awarded with the tiered awards provided by the Sentinel’s team. Our first award goes to Adeline Kleist for the First to Fall ribbon. Adeline’s square lit up casting her sour expression into a worse one as her mech, still armless, was lit up behind her. While the first to fall ribbon seems like a joke, it’s acknowledged that no match can truly start without at least one piece falling to make things interesting. And though it wasn’t her intent or purpose Adeline was still the first to fall. She approached the podium and Amy pinned the light pink ribbon to her sleeve right under the pawn badge on her shoulder. She then whispered something into her ear and the two shook hands and returned to their spots. “Ms., Kleist will be awarded with a pair of Waller elbow and knee joints designed for letter unit usage. Congratulations Ms. Kleist. The crowd applauded as Adeline bowed, Harrison swearing he saw a smile for a brief second run across her face.

“Next we have the spectacle award.” Amy said, flipping her pages. “Awarded to Samantha Eisle.” Harrison could feel his spine tingling as the light underneath the Queen shined above her. Wearing a long skirt and jacket with her dress attire her face was illuminated only by the light hitting the underside of the lip of her hat. Harrison tried his best to look her in the eye but the gaze he received in return wasn’t staring as much as it was penetrating, flooding his mind. Her Seren unit with slightly more bumps and bruises then it had when she fought Harrison stood in a light column behind them as she approached Amy for her badge. They shook hands and Amy attached the small pin depicting fireworks to her colored lapel, amongst a sea of other pins and badges she had won over her career. “Ms. Eisle will be awarded with a Level. 2 technomancer upgrade from Fujimi International.”. The teams and the crowds burst out into quiet murmuring. A technomancer upgrade was relatively new technology. It allowed for mechs to hack into outside computer systems during a fight, incredibly handy in factory or industrial maps. It was a more niche reward but nevertheless it was still cool.

The crowd became silent as they awaited the last reward. Amy and Ms. Eisle both looked at Harrison as he began to sweat. Maybe he didn’t perform as well as he thought did. Maybe he wasn’t deserving of any award, and he hadn’t even taken his first step out of his parent’s shadows. Harrison began to doubt himself as he saw his mother hand off the papers to Florence, who cleared her throat and then began to speak. “In my time as King, I have seen and trained many pilots to rise in our ranks from pawn to named piece. It took hard training and raw talent to get them where they wanted to go but it was worth every second of it to push them to their full potential. But first they had to be knocked down a peg.” Several of Harrison’s team members prematurely looked at him as they understood what she was getting at. The Golem’s caught on to and began to stare him down as well. “We award Harrison Andross of the Sentinel’s the newcomer award for showing bravery and proficiency in fighting not one, not two, but three units back-to-back on his first day in the game.” The light shined underneath him as a column shined above his home square, several chuckles were heard as Harrison remembered that nothing would be standing there. But as soon as they started, they stopped as the sound of massive helicopter blades began to echo through the stadium. “As a reward for the newcomer, who also had his unit destroyed on the first day of the season. I award you my old unit.” The stadium fell to silence as Florence spoke those words. Harrison himself wasn’t sure that he heard her right, but as the blades got louder and more and more of his teammates looked up he followed their lead, and couldn’t believe his eyes.

Descending from above the stadium through the air was a flying carrier craft supporting a single unit. Red as all get and old as hell, the mech was lowered into Harrison’s home square. Entering the column of lights, it’s bright red paint and rounded exterior left the audience and pilots stunned. Harrison felt a tap on his back as the carrier craft disconnected and flew up into the sky. He turned to see Florence holding his silver ribbon and attaching it to his sleeve underneath his pawn emblem. “I hope that this reward teaches you some humility young man.” She said, sticking out her hand for him to shake it. Harrison instantly complied but stopped when Florence’s grip got tighter. “But remember Harrison, while you’re on my team you’re a team player. We don’t showboat here. I put you in today to see what you could do, and you proved that. But if you want moves in the next round, show me you can get off that high horse and make nice with your team. Do we have an understanding?” Harrison feeling foolish for his selfish aspirations nodded politely. Both letting go of the other as Florence made her way back to her spot and the game maker retaking his position, bending the microphone back down to his level.

“AND WITH THAT LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE FIRST MATCH OF THE 2056 SEASON HAS ENDED. SENTINEL’S BEAT THE GOLEM’S ANDWILL BE PLAYING IN DETROIT IN A WEEKS TIME AGAINST THE MARSHALLS.”