File 13.2 - Broken Monument

On the flight deck, the left wing of the hangar housed her Bishamon along with those that survived from the Ghost and Blue teams, originally nearly filling the hangar. The Dauntless could hold far more than her team, which was why it was selected for her team as most carriers would have required the splitting of her team. The Dauntless was rare in the fleet being a Toras Heavy Carrier, few Heavy Carriers were made before the war and in the post-war time ship construction slowed. Only six others of the Toras class survived the war.

Staring up at the Bishamon Custom, the crews already put tarps over the head and left arm keeping the significant exposures protected. Seeing the Skin from the outside gave her a clearer sense of how much damage she took during the battle. In the midst of the fighting she barely even noticed anything that was not significant damage. The armor already lost the luster of the special coat meant to protect against energy attacks to deflect or disperse heat. Most of it likely had been burned off by the Ghost, its energy swords were powerful.

She knew if the mechanics had their way, they would want to replace all of the plating for fresh armor. They would likely prioritize the Custom over the others, but there still would not be enough to go around. Schir could see it more clearly as a coffin than ever before. ‘I’m going to have to be even more careful in the future. Unlike the Jiao’s we don’t have any real supply of parts. We barely brought enough to cover a few Skins.’

“Up and about already, Ensign?”

“That’s right Mullia,” she replied to the mechanic. He seemed to be adjusting well enough after the protests before. She specifically requested him as her mechanic for the mission and he tried to get out of it. In the end, she had to get MPs to force him on to the Dauntless before launch. Seemed he was afraid of the gravity and air of Earth, but it didn’t look like it bothered him anymore. ‘Seems the Bishamon is helping him stay focused.’ She didn’t want anyone else messing with this death machine after all of the experimental things he put into it. “How bad is it?”

“We’re going to have to replace the head and left arm completely. There’s no saving it. It’s a miracle the main camera still worked with the way its melted.”

“Kami reliability.”

“Saved your life, it did.” He pointed Schir’s sight over to the right wing. Part of it looked to be converted into a salvage pile with destroyed Bishamon remains. “I’ll be able to salvage a head and arm from what we’ve scraped by in the salvage operation. But they won’t be as over tuned as your original, you’ll lose some performance.”

“If you can get it working that’s fine.”

“But we can’t do this forever. There’s a limit to this as well.”

“I know, the Devils are dangerous though.” Her only shot was to master the machine. It had the potential to match the Devils, she just needed to get better. That much she believed. Schir walked out of the hangar unable to do anything for the moment. The antsy feelings that rested just below the surface did not want to disappear. ‘I need to get back out there soon…’