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Integration

Part Fourteen

Dylan peered down over a big, white furred thumb, his hands resting on the digit in anticipation, while his brother and his mother both smiled and waved up at him as he descended. He felt delight warming his thoughts, yet a knot twisted itself over and over in his chest, a distant fear of fragility tickling at the back of his mind.

The wolfess's immense hand settled gently onto the grass in front of his home. He slid off the side and approached his mother to pull her into a tight hug, his chin resting on her hair. He felt surprised that the hug was returned, but it was more than welcome. His brother clasped him on the back, and he felt that knot unravel just a little he immersed himself into this welcome.

“Ma, Ryan," Dylan said, pulling out of the hug to stand by his mother's side, but afraid to let go of her, he laced his arm around hers. “This is Kira, my friend." He faced his companion and gestured up to her, as if the giant canine wasn't already obvious.

The wolfess had settled down onto the grass, her legs crossed over each other. Her white fur was decorated with swirling blue dye that matched the hue of her eyes. She smiled warmly at them, and held up a hand to wave her fingers at them.

His mother suddenly pulled away from him, and Dylan feebly reached out for her, a small panic rising in him, an irrational part of his mind felt she was leaving. “So you're the one that brought him home!" She stepped up to Kira as if her immensity didn't have a matter in the world to her, and offered up both of her hands.

The guardian brought a single, curled finder down to her, and his mother grabbed it as if she were shaking a hand. He watched them talk, not quite realizing whatever they were saying, was utterly lost on him in a blur of misperception he couldn't seem to recognize. The knot in his chest tugged tight, and his mind felt like cracked glass, feeling as if he'd shatter it if he moved from this spot. He felt warm, safe, and happy, yet something felt wrong, as if he could cry at any moment, and not even know why.

“It is kinda your fault, you know." Ryan stood next to him, folding his arms and watching, not looking at his brother.

He felt confused, but his mind seemed to work for him, speak for him. “Yeah." He remembered a coldness.

“Can't believe you went up there and made friends with one."

Dylan nodded automatically, feeling a bit hazy. “Yeah." He watched Kira bend down to gently nose at his mother, her ears folding back happily as she stroked her muzzle like playing with a dog. Snowflakes on a sunlit day swirled around them, gusts of wind ruffling fur and clothes. He felt the cold, he felt shivers.

“Wish I could have come? Even after that?"

“Yeah." He was shaking, and he felt like he should be saying more, but couldn't move his mouth to say the words. He watched his mother point off to the side, to the driveway, directing Kira's gaze to a few small bikes, a pair of plastic astronaut's helmets lying next to them, one with a large crack across it. Their clear visors cloudy with the creeping chill. Dylan felt himself suddenly choke up, the knot in his chest suddenly tightening like a vice, the foggy glass in his mind splintering and falling away. “Oh no, please, no," he muttered, his voice feeling loud and strong. His hands went to his eyes, palming at the lids, trying to close them. Cruel awareness filled his head, and tugged back, urging him to open them. The frigid air around him suddenly grew warm, even soft like a blanket. It seemed to squeeze him ever so gently.

It urged sudden movement out of him, and he turned to grab his brother into a hug, the sides of their heads pressing together while he grabbed at the other side, keeping them close. “I love you, man. You know that? I don't care what you said. I love you, you goddamn asshole. I shoulda looked for you. I love you. I'm so sorry." With the last wakeless remnants, he saw his mother and Kira watching them, approving, pleased. His teeth were clenching, his chest aching, his lips quivering, and his eyes shot open.

--

Kira watched her charge, her nose gently snuffling a few meters above him, her ears tilted forward as she listened to his sleep talking. Her instincts told her it was a dream she shouldn't disturb, even when he started to grab at the air. His babbling wasn't quite coherent, but she caught him say 'love' a few times, and even her name once. His face was flushing, such a human thing, and she caught the whiff of tears just before she saw them.

She knew he'd wake at any moment, and perhaps for once, it'd be good for a big, looming, furry face to be the first thing he saw. She stared down her muzzle at him, the little charge wrapped up in her her cupped hands, cozying him up after she felt his shakes. Only a moment later, his eyes opened, and he didn't make a sound.

He watched her, and she watched back, waiting for him to say something. She saw the subtle twitching in his cheeks, one of the many little quirks she noticed in the tiny faces of the little ones. She didn't mean to, but she broke the pause with a sudden giggle. 'Little ones.' One little sleep with a human, and of course the lupari switched to matronly thoughts, as if she didn't feel them enough already.

He smiled back up at her, the tightness in his face simply letting a few waking tears mercifully go. He wiped at them with his sleeve, and looked around. “We slept outside all night?" She smelled the sorrow, as if his face wasn't clear enough. But it had a subtle difference than what she sensed last night. It smelled like mending hurt.

She flicked an ear in acknowledgement and followed it with a nod. “Mhmm. I didn't want to wake you." She wasn't certain if he woke any time through the night during her movements, but the 'pup instinct' her mother told her about didn't have her wake up for him at all. But then, even lupari pups weren't as small as an adult human. She wasn't even sure if that instinct would work with someone so small.

“But what if a giant spider would have carried me away?" She breathed out a pleased, if gently agitated sigh. Tail tugging at the break of dawn. He had a good dream.

--

The big wolfess didn't take the bait for a round of good morning smartassery. She simply 'wrfed' at him and gave him a rather aggressive nuzzling, earning a bit of laughter from him as he brushed at her muzzle fur. Without him even having to ask, she seemed to know he wanted a quiet morning to think to himself.

She sat him on the bench and started rolling up her sleeping bag and packing up. He absently watched her, still at a loss how they could have spent the whole night outside the barracks without being bothered through the night, but those thoughts gave way to his mind wandering back to the dream.

He looked down at his feet, hanging over the edge of the armrest. “He said it was my fault."

Kira's ear's perked and turned towards him and she clasped the roll closed. She tentatively asked “Your brother? In your dream?"

He nodded, not surprised she guessed at what he dreamed about. “I dreamed that I went home to ma and my brother. And you brought me to them." He smirked at her when she sat up straighter and turned to face him, the bedroll clasped shut and tucked under her arm. “I introduced you, and ma shook your… well, your finger and thanked you bunch of times." She squealed softly and her tail slowly wagged, the tip flicking into sight from her sides.

He sucked in a deep breath and waved at her to offer a lift. He waited until he was settled against her stomach with her thumb in front of him, on the way back to the barracks, before he continued, slowly petting at her white fur. “My brother and I watched you two, then he said it was my fault. And I agreed with him." His head sunk low. “Was confused at first, but awake now? I get it. It's my fault she died."

Kira stopped walking and he felt her about to lift him up to her face, but he pulled on her fur to stop her. “I have to live with that. Accept it, you know? I should have stayed with them, or never came, maybe she'd be alive." He shook his head and patted her thumb, silently urging her to keep walking. “Maybe that's why I'm here. What drove me to sign up for this. I tried to run away from that fact. I don't know if my brother is alive, I didn't even look for him. I didn't even check when the records started filling out. I guess I was terrified I'd have to face him if he was still out there. And if he's not…" He shrugged and his head thumped back against Kira's stomach. “Maybe I thought it would be easier not knowing for sure."

The lupari's thumb gently nudged at his chest. “What are you going to do now?"

It would be as simple as opening his yutri's extranet browser and checking the casualty records from the war for Earth. It's been only a half a year since full liberation, a lifetime now for any human after so many changes in their entire existences, but with UTO aid and AI analysis, the records should be mostly complete and accurate.

He was slow to respond, his chest tightening as he thought about it. “Next time we're alone, could you check with me? If he's alive."

Her thumb squeezed gently at him as she strode into the barracks. “Of course."

She'd brought him back to the barracks before Mitchell did his wake up call, but today was the big day. Like kids waking up early for Christmas, most of the other humans had woken up early out of sheer anticipation. Dylan pretended not to notice their attention when he strode into the quarters and headed for his bunk. He heard a few of them talking about him, already realizing he must have been out all night even after curfew was called, but none of them bothered him as he grabbed fresh clothes and headed for the showers to try to get the pervading scent of Kira's fur off of him.

He had the shower to himself, but by the time he was washed up and dressed, the others started to filter in. Dylan was over a sink, slipping his contacts in when someone suddenly slapped him on the back, knocking a lense into the sink. “Are you kidding me?" Cody blurted out, looking into the sink as Dylan cursed at him. “You wear contacts?"

Dylan shrugged and plucked the lens from the sink and gave it a rinse. “Better than those BCGs you got."

“My what?"

A marine, Private Mendez, laughed as he went past them to the showers. “Your ugly as shit birth control glasses, man."

Cody pursed his lips and looked up at the mirror. “They're not that bad."

Dylan watched his friend's reflection. “You look like a hipster."

“Whatever." He waved the medic's words off. “Alien girls think they're cute."

“Cody, man. Cute?" Dylan slipped his contact into his eye, and blinked a few times to let it settle. “You're cute like a little kitten to them. Girls don't fuck kittens."

Dylan expected a round of jabs at each other, but he saw Cody's lips purse in his reflection and he leaned onto the sink in front of him. “It's all just for fun, you know. Bonding, whatever. The stupid shit Yirshan and I say… I dunno, it's just what helps us deal with each other. Or, be comfortable." He scratched at the side of his head and adjusted his glasses. “I'm uh, I'm not sure how to explain it. Messing around, talking shit, stupid jokes… makes things feel kinda normal. For me." He shrugged. “Feels right. With Trikil, he was so…" He waved at the air. “Distant? Shit, we barely even talked. Yirshan is different, and she almost scares me sometimes, but playing around with this… fucking insane new world situation we're in, is actually pretty fun. We can't pretend things are normal. I'd take teasing from a skyscraper sized dragon over silence and weird looks any time."

Dylan laughed, finished with his contacts, but still watching the corporal's reflection. “Makes you feel like they see you as a person and not something to snack on?"

Cody lit up and turned to face him. “Exactly! Something like that, I think. I looked at the dragons as like the lizards when I first saw them, was afraid I'd get one during the pairing. After Trikil, I knew anything would be better, even a dragon. And, well, she's amazing." He held up a hand when Dylan opened his mouth. “Don't you say it. I don't want to fuck her, you ass. Stupid shit like that is part of the fun, makes me feel like I'm on her level. As a person. She's good, man. She'll treat you right. Mess with her, be bold, and she'll be a great friend."

Dylan leaned one hand on the sink, head tilted to one side in a mirror of Kira's typical, curious cant. “I believe you. I'm gonna be alright. But, one thing." A big, lopsided grin spread across his face. “You didn't say why being cute mattered."

“Hey, if we learned one universal truth in the galaxy… girls like cute things. You like making girls happy, right?" Cody held up his hands and stepped backwards toward the showers. “Make a building sized girl happy? Make her laugh? Feel like one hell of a man."

He vanished into the showers. Dylan wanted to take a stab at his forfeited dignity, but it hung up in his throat with a few flashing thoughts of Kira's wagging tail and happy smiles, and the satisfaction they always gave him.

--

“I'm so sorry, Kira. She heard Cody and I talking about it last night," Yirshan offered a sad shrug, and glanced at Hatia standing just next to her. The jahkatian watched Kira, the edges of her mouth turned up into as much a smile as a beak could allow.

Kira sat on her bunk, one leg crossed over the other, her paw lightly bobbing in the air as she glared at the corporal. Her fur was freshly washed and brushed, giving an extra fluffiness about her that helped to exaggerate her agitation. “Did you tell anyone?" She tried to keep her voice low and calm, not wanting to draw any other eavesdroppers, though she could feel the curiosity pervading the barracks. Everyone knew she never came back last night with her charge.

Hatia shook her head, apparently oblivious to the sergeant's annoyance with her. “I haven't said anything." She brought her hands up and tapped the claws together and cast her eyes to the side. “… did you sleep with him? Like a stuffed toy?"

Kira made a choked wrfing sound, her paw slipping off of her leg. “What?"

Yirshan's looked back to Kira and pointed at Hatia. “I didn't tell her that part."

Kira jumped up from her bunk. “And how did you know?"

Hatia giggled and fluttered her wings. “So you did!"

Kira snapped at her, baring her teeth. “Keep your voice down. Dylan wouldn't want that getting around." She nodded to the door at the front of the room. “Let's take it into the hall." She pushed at both of the katians, corralling them out of the ever crowding barracks.

“I just assumed you'd end up sleeping there," Yirshan explained once they had some privacy in the empty hall. “I messaged Captain Duntay to see if he could keep any of the night patrol from harassing you."

Kira's ears flushed. She should have done that herself, but it eluded her in the midst of the moment. “Thanks," she muttered, and smiled through the embarrassment.

“Sooo…" Hatia cooed when the conversation stagnated for a few moments. “Did it help?"

Yirshan growled low in her chest and grabbed her corporal by her shoulder, twisting her around to glare down at her. “This isn't your business, corporal. Tell anyone what happened last night, and we'll have a problem. You should leave."

Hatia wilted pathetically, her wings drooping. “Yes, sergeant." Kira noted a hint of surprise from her changing scent, as if caught off guard over the reprimand. The casual, distinctly unmilitary like manner that has been happening with some of the guardian and charge pairs seems to infect some of the regular soldiers.

Kira saw a major crackdown in the future, but the lupari in her wanted to know more. “Wait," she said and bit gently at her lower lip. “What do you mean did it help?"

Hatia turned back around, and clacked her beak, perking up. “I overheard how he reacted to Yirshan. I was hoping to hear if spending the night with him helped." She smiled. “And, well, if you enjoyed it."

Kira held her hand to the side of her muzzle, hiding her smile. Of course resting with such a tiny friend would make any proper lupari's day, but she had Dylan's pride to think about here. “He told me some important things, I think that helped more than anything." She shifted on her paws, and willed her tail to stay still. “We talked for a long time and it just lead to dozing off. He slept well, and it let me make sure he didn't have any nightmares." She scratched at her cheek, trying to imply it wasn't so important that she spent the night with her charge. “It was nice to be close to him, sure, but I'm glad it didn't disturb him."

Hatia's eyes narrowed slightly, expecting more from the lupari, Kira assumed, but she quickly softened. “That's great!" She shook her wings and tilted her head. “I'm sorry for being nosy. I just hope he'll be okay, and the way he's been getting better seems so…" Her beak clattered several times. “I don't know, magical?"

Yirshan laughed, her tail sweeping behind her and thwapping the wall. “Magical?"

Kira bowed her head slightly at Hatia. “Now hold on, she's right. I'm sure you noticed it too, Yir."

Yirshan's golden eyes fixed on Kira, darting slightly with thought. Kira smiled at her, canting her head, her brow pushed up, expecting the obvious answer. “Fine," the arkatian said. “Something is happening."

Kira felt her tail wagging as the realization started to form in her head. It was trust. “We lupari call-“

“Sergeants?" The black furred head of Tihiri peeked around the door to their bunks. Yirshan gestured for her to approach, and she stepped out, with the towering neishor, Larish, right behind her thick, busy, white tipped tail. The tawny furred equine looked stoic as he always was, but Kira noted a scent of worry from him. “Apologies for interrupting," the vulpine said. “The humans are mostly out and ready, but no Dylan. I asked about him and they said he seemed alright this morning." One of her ears folded down as her head tilted. “They said he has some idea to 'fuck with' Maduk, but won't be coming out of the room until it's time to leave." Her eyes darted to the side. “They meant toy with him. Not coitus."

Kira snorted at the coo of understanding that rolled out of Hatia, then looked up at Larish expectantly. He hesitated, and let slip some of his worry by rubbing at his forearm. “I was hoping to hear how Dylan is doing from you. I'll leave."

“Aww," Kira squealed softly. “Larish, that's alright. He's doing very well, but I don't know what he might be planning. And thank you, specialist," She bowed her head at the medic. “Could you two stay? I have a theory I want a few more to hear."

Larish didn't hesitate and stepped out from around Tihiri. The falashai took heed and flicked her ear.

“Have any of you heard of waffara?" The unknowing looks she got were expected. It was one of those words that had no translation to the common language. “Waffara is what we call the rapid bonding among lupari. Only lupari. It essentially means friendship among lupari, but that's an oversimplification. It only came up as a concept when we realized we couldn't make a best friend out of an alien within a quarter like we can with another lupari. The best way I've heard it described is a lupari waffara is like knowing a friend for a lifetime when you've only known them for a week." An over exaggeration of an oversimplification, she knew, but it helped get the point across.

The edge of Yirshan's snout creased in a frown and her eyes narrowed. “What are you getting at? Humans aren't pseudo-empaths like lupari."

“No," Kira sucked at one of her upper fangs, her theory coming together in her head. “And none of the other races have that either. But the pairs have so many of the qualities of waffaras. See, lupari waffaras happen because of trust. Our sensitivity to emotions and feelings means it's practically impossible to hide our emotions from each other, we connect almost immediately. Waffaras are built on deep trust from the very start."

Hatia took in a sharp breath, and let out a low, gentle squawk. “Like the pairs here."

“Exactly. We have absolutely all of the physical power with a human. They trust us to not abuse it, and we take it to heart to not violate that trust. That's why we bond with them so fast. Even the ones that aren't guardians."

A broad grin spread across Larish's face. “When I was a foal, we had a tordenchi student at my school. Almost all of us were neishor. He wouldn't have stood a chance. But you make a fast friend when you watch out for the little ones." He rocked his head to the side, tossing his mane. “It feels right."

“It sounds reasonable to me," Tihiri said. “I hope it means Dylan would adapt to me well. He'll have to put up with me once his medical training starts."

“It's so cute he's going to outrank you after this!" Hatia squawked, eyes bright with a slight shimmer as she had a thought that pleased her. “You'd be like his really, really giant nurse."

“That's not how it works, you oversized bird," the falashai snapped. “And it's not cute. He has more experience than me. It's expected."

“He could be working on another human, and he asks for scissors," Hatia brought her foretalon and thumb together, the claws touching. “And you'd hand him these tiiiiny little scissors!" The medic glared at her, but the edges of her mouth quivered, just before she barked out a laugh, which quickly spread to the rest of the group.

“Why'd you tell us this, Kira?" Yirshan asked before it petered out.

Kira's mouth opened, but she didn't say anything. Her eyes narrowed, realizing she wasn't even sure what got into her. Why this mattered. A wriggling thought crossed into her mind, and she rubbed at her forearm, suddenly feeling distressed. “Maduk thinks the sudden trust Dylan has for me is bad for him. I… I suppose I'm just trying to make sense of it. Justify it."

Larish snorted, a bit of an equine knicker rising out of him. “There's nothing to justify. That one doesn't know non-humans enough. He is making decisions out of his own ignorance."

“Perhaps something happened to him," Tihiri said, shrugging. “With a UTO species, I mean."

A brief, wary silence halted the conversation for a few, long moments. Kira slowly canted her head to one side. “He always is afraid when facing us in person. But that seems normal if he hasn't met many of us."

“He hides in a mech whenever he can," Yirshan added. “It doesn't excuse him for being a stupi-“

The door at the front of the hall opened up, and the thump of a mech's heavy, metallic steps stepped through, drawing all of their attention. “Sergeants Kultak and Rottjir, yes?" came Maduk's voice through the speakers, no doubt emboldened by the machine if the taunting lacing his tone meant anything. “Do not forget that today you will be exchanging your charges."

Kira wanted to snarl at him. He acted as if it were something she'd forget. He hadn't the faintest idea the gravity of his order. “Yes, sir," she said, and Yirshan muttered her own right after.

“I am eager to see them acquire their mechs today. It is important they have some semblance of independence from you. Perhaps ev-“ The mech's speakers suddenly cut off and Mitchell turned to pilot it away without another word. Kira felt her hackles lower when the machine left, she didn't even realize they went up. Her snarl finally slipped out of her, but it drifted into a low whine.

Hatia let out her own low, annoyed squawk. “He is a massive butt hole."

There were a couple breaths worth of silence before Larish knickered loudly, inviting the rest of them into a laugh as they headed back into their quarters after the mech.

It took a few more minutes for the rest of the guardians to assemble in 2nd platoon's quarters. Mitchell's mech was settled on one side of the transfer pad, a perfect perspective for Maduk to scrutinize for any disconcerting behavior, most certainly Dylan's. Unfortunately for him, he had to do it without the thick armor plating of the mech's chest. The cockpit was opened up, with Mitchell sitting on the edge as he loved to do, the deck up against the pad to form a bridge. Maduk lingered further back inside.

“Great thing about today," Yirshan said, standing next to Kira as both sergeants watched another guardian wander in from their place at the front of the room. “The barracks' mech hangar will finally open up, and we won't have to put up with everyone strolling in here."

“I actually liked all the activity." Kira cast another look over the humans along the catwalk, searching for Dylan.

“You liked every guardian having to come through here? Leave a lupari to like her bedroom to be a conference room."

Kira ignored the partly true comment as the humans' quarters opened and another human walked out. His back was straight, shoulders level, he seemed to be picking his feet up a little higher – she recognized Dylan from that confident saunter he had on a good day before the logical part of her realized the last man to arrive could be no other person than her charge. It set her tail up into a satisfied wag. He made his way to the end of the catwalk and leaned against the railing. Kira's nose burst into instinctive snuffling, trying to make out his scent in the crowded room, but she couldn't get a read on him. He looked in her direction, she couldn't make out his expression from here, but he gave her a long, arching wave over his head.

Kira smiled at him and waved her fingers back, then tapped Yirshan's stomach. “He's here. He looks good, feeling confident." Her head canted when she watched him rest his arms over the railing and hang his head, looking forlorn. “And it looks like he's going to put on a show of looking bad."

“If you say so."

At the turn of the hour of 0700, Mitchell got up and hopped down to the transfer pad. Most days guardians would filter in and out with their charges to head off to breakfast when they were ready, but with Maduk here, they had to put up with a more formalized routine so the investigator could snoop into every part of it.

The master sergeant decided to use the line the humans made of their own accord along the wall catwalk and shouted for the first man to come over. “Beich, you're up!" His mech called out for him, letting everyone in the room hear. “Get your charge, Lurr."

The leonine ralai moved out of the crowd of guardians to collect his charge, then next came Dapeng and Nahni, Shvedov and Kali, until it started reaching the end of humans. It was interesting to watch a queued collection now. None of the humans hesitated, they smiled at their guardians, hopped into their hands as if it were as normal as a handshake, and that was it. Even the awkwardness of having a charge that outranked the guardian was long gone. It wasn't until the end of the line, where Cody and Dylan placed themselves, was the comfortable routine broken.

“Shaw and Rottjir," the master sergeant called. Kira pursed her lips and stepped up to the pad. She thought she might feel off with this, but she kept her back straight and shoulders level just as Dylan had. She knew her charge will show Maduk that he won't have any issues with a 'giant-ass dragon lizard' as some of the humans had called the arkatians. Not now.

She placed her hand down onto the pad, fingers slightly curled, in front of Cody. The corporal was the first to hesitate, she noticed. It was the briefest flash of apprehension in his movements and his scent. It was that quick vestige of instinct with a less familiar alien, even if she held him a few times before. Cody might not even have noticed he did it. Maduk certainly didn't. Kira was just proud of him that it lasted the barest shred of a moment before he hopped on and settled onto the pads of her hand. The underside of her muzzle pressed into her chest as she looked down at him to bring him to her stomach.

He smiled up at her. “Heya sergeant,"

“Maddock and Kultak," the mech announced just next to her, prompting her to leave the pad.

Kira looked up at Yirshan as they passed, and used her free hand to pat the arkatian's forearm, quietly assuring her this will go smoothly. She knew the other sergeant doubted her after the fiasco last night, but her doubt didn't matter. Only Dylan, and she knew he'd show them all he's not as fragile as they believed.

Dylan was slow in his walk out to the transfer pad, moving with the stride of the condemned. His head hung low with a hunch and his feet shuffled along the ground. His hands were at his front, holding each other as if he were shackled. He didn't look up at Yirshan as he approached her red scaled hand. His head only lifted enough to look at the appendage, and she swore he stared at her thick, white, draconic claws. Maduk was only a few meters away, watching from the mech. Dylan's gaze wandered over to him with a slow turn of his head, keeping Kira from seeing his face at all.

Kira sniffed at the air, trying to separate his scent from Yirshan's enormity at this distance, to no avail. Lupari instincts were telling her to worry, but above that, she trusted Dylan. She was certain he was giving Maduk the most pathetic, anguished looks.

“Private," Mitchell said, his voice torn between a stern rise and a worried call.

Dylan looked back at the other human, then turned to face him, his form suddenly straightening out. “Oh! Sorry sarge, I was just thinking what might be for breakfast. I'm starving." He turned back around to Yirshan, looking up at her with a broad grin. “Yir! Almost forgot about this new guardian thing until Cody talked to me about you. Told me something."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, brown leather case and flipped it open. He pulled out a pair of black rimmed glasses and smoothly put them on. “He said you think glasses are 'super cute, like kittens.' I think they make me look dignified." He turned partly sidelong toward her, one fist behind his back and the other just under his chest. “What do you think?"

Yirshan fell into the act with ease. “Oooh, maybe a bit of both. But not quite cute like a kitten, handsome." Kira felt her heart throb. He was absolutely puppy caliber cute with those. She was pining for a closer look. “Careful with those," his new guardian said. “You might just end up with every girl here all over you."

“Perfect. I'll need a full stomach to prepare for that." He climbed up onto the sergeant's hand, and grabbed one of her claws to lean up against it, looking over her finger into the open mech. “Hey, Maduk! Hope you'll join us, it's one hell of an experience looking up at all these giant aliens shoveling down food. Hate to find out you're all alone in the new human mess." He waited to see if Maduk would say anything, but the man kept his mouth shut and retreated further into the machine's cockpit. “Your loss," Dylan said with a shrug and plopped down onto Yirshan's hand. She brought him to her stomach, with a satisfied grin and a pleased sway in her tail. “I hope there's siliash…"

--

The trip to the mess was a quiet march, an unspoken agreement among the guardians to keep silent or speak low in the mech's presence. Maduk kept his voice level when he spoke to them, but they all knew he was furious. The angered tension could almost be felt venting from the mech's armor radiators. After the news of what Maduk did to get Duntay disbarred from even having a human in his presence, few wanted to risk giving him any potential ammunition even with harmless chatter with their charges.

Yirshan, of course, wasn't quite so easily cowed. “Are those glasses actually real?" she asked, the mech only a few steps ahead of her.

“They're real." Dylan had his arms resting on his knees, looking around the arkatian's hand. Red scaled, unpadded, and almost uncomfortably hot, it was very different from Kira's hand. “I never wore them before. I thought they'd make me look too dorky in front of aliens."

Yirshan snorted and twisted around to look back at the group of guardians, a small formation, arranged solely for Maduk's obsessive observation over them. Kira was at the back, kept far from Dylan at Maduk's order. “Dorky, right. You didn't keep them off for Kira's health? I think you might make her heart burst."

“Really think they're, uh, cute?"

Yirshan laughed, her stomach shoving into Dylan. “Not as much as Cody probably thinks. But sure. Part of training is getting over the 'cute factor' of humans."

“You're kidding." Dylan adjusted the lenses after the stomach shakes. “How do you train against…" He paused, brow furrowing over the absurdity of the sentence. “against cute?"

The arkatian laughed again, this time a low chuckle that didn't quite shake him so much. “Mostly drilling into our heads that you're people, not adorable baby animals." He heard her wings flutter and a gust of wind billowing around her front, the usual sign of a katian trying to move a topic elsewhere. “I was impressed you got in my hand like that. You had me fooled, walking out like you're about to be strung up by your wings. With all they say about you, I half expected you to faint."

“Faint? Hah!" He made sure his voice was good and loud, for the mech. “No need to worry. I dealt with it." A part of him wanted to add on 'for now,' but that would only be for Kira's ears, not this arkatian's, and certainly not Maduk's.

That flash of self-doubt did nothing to dampen his spirits. He showed his wills by climbing into Yirshan's hand, and now the day ahead had power armor and mechs. It would take a lot more than a few poisonous thoughts to dampen that.

“My understanding is the human dining hall has recently opened," Maduk suddenly announced from the mech, bracing Dylan for his next attempt to ruin his week. “There is no reason for the humans to eat with the aliens. Do not take your charges from the serving area, allow them to eat at their own furnishings."

A row of complaining grumbles came up the line, and Dylan felt the growl form Yirshan rattle down to her stomach. The fact he growled like the arkatian, too, sent him into a small fit of childish snickers that he sorely hoped Maduk could hear.

**

The first few weeks were tuned heavily to weed out humans that couldn't handle close interaction with aliens, and in turn, test the guardians in their abilities to help a human acclimatize. This meant having them to be together as much as possible, including eating together. A few weeks in, with the humans getting their own mechs and the independence they provided, those requirements would relax.

At least, that was what they were told. Dylan was more inclined to believe it was just the excuse for why accommodations and proper transportation for humans weren't finished yet. Dylan sat at the end of one of the tables in the human dining area, next to the room spanning window that looked out over the massive, regular mess hall.

It was high, a particularly inconvenient series of stairs up, but it offered an impressive view. Dylan could see the tops of the heads of the aliens below. Carried at stomach height everywhere apparently gave him a rather cramped perspective of the world. He never quite realized just how many alien soldiers had to be on this base. Hundreds of them were below, making a loud enough chatter that a rumble could be felt through the thick walls and glass. This was just one hall, but it alone provoked a humbling effect out of most of the humans, many of them lined up along the glass, looking out, their trays of food in hand.

It was only a minor distraction, of course. “View ain't bad. Rather eat with Azi. That Maduk guy is such a fucking dick," Isidoro said through a mouthful of siliash.

“Lizard should have eaten him," Corporal Shvedov agreed.

“I'd like to pull that stick from his arse and beat him with it," Russell sat back down at the table, the clatter of his tray drawing the others' attention. “So, lads! Implants, armor, and mechs! What have you lot learned?"

The rest of the soldiers settled down, all able to fit at a single table in the otherwise empty hall. Isidoro leaned over his tray and patted the back of his neck. “My squad told me that they bolt the implant right into your spine. Like drills and shit."

The marine next to him sputtered around a mouthful of food. “They said it's permanent. If you try to take it out, you die." Agreements went around the table, along with a few wary looks.

“The procedure is said to be blistering white pain." Lieutenant Lafond didn't seem perturbed as he stabbed at his fruit with his fork. “Anesthesia cannot be used, it harms the, ah…" His lip turned up as he searched for the words. “implant brain wiring."

“I heard some stories about the implant going wrong," Dieter said, gesturing for attention with his hands. “It zaps your brain so hard, it makes your eyes burst and you bleed out of everything. Ears, nose, mouth, ears." He tapped his yutri, a model more like a smartphone, “They're powered with that erestal they put in everything. They go red hot if they break."

“No," Tretyakov waved his hand dismissively. “That one is fake. Those crystals… like magic! But are just like a normal battery at that size."

“That one was a tad extreme," Russell said. The lieutenant looked around the table for anyone else throwing their piece in. “Is that all? Christ, we all heard the same bit, then." He shook his head, laughing. “They tell the recruits the same thing, I'm certain."

“Think it's all bull, sir?" Cody asked.

“Most of it. We'll find out, yeah? Now, that armor-“

“Dylan Maddock," The sound of Maduk's voice, the accent so thick from the name alone their translators decided to interpret it, brought an angry silence to the table. “Come with me."

Dapeng, silent with the other Chinese soldiers, struck the table. “The man is eating." The rest of the men turned in their seats, all eyes watching Maduk as he stood at the entrance to the kitchen. “Say what you will right here."

Maduk crossed his arms, staring them right back. He was bold without an alien around. Dylan stood up before he could mutter whatever threat he was coming up with. “I got it, guys. Put your dicks back."

Dylan grabbed a big piece of siliash from his tray and followed Maduk passed the kitchen and into a smaller hall he took dominion over. Mitchell seemed to have wandered off, likely to swap escort with Fletcher so he could prepare training for the armor and mechs, leaving Maduk to breakfast alone.

“Private Maddock," he started when the door shut behind them, and turned to face the medic. “That demonstration this morning was highly uncalled for. Childish, as well. Why are you treating me this way?"

Dylan's mouth opened, then shut and he tilted his head, eyes narrowing. Maduk watched him expectantly. “Why the hell do you think? You're trying to get me to flip my shit and find a reason to kick me out."

He held up two fingers, waving them. “I was making sure you were brave enough to resist your guardian."

Dylan shook his head and brushed a hand through his hair. “Resist her," he repeated, flatly. “What the hell does that even mean?"

Maduk looked down and sucked his teeth. “You see, soldier, I think you might have a savior type of adoration for her. You think she has helped you with your… condition?"

“I know she has."

He flicked his fingers. “No matter. What I mean is, you think you owe her. This makes you vulnerable. More… ah, weak to what she wants. It is dangerous."

“It's dangerous to owe your friend?"

He shook his fingers and head. “No, no. But she is big. Giant. We are already weak to their demands for their size. Some become too forward with their advances. Some might make more selfish demands. Dangerous."

Dylan crossed his arms and scratched at his chin with his thumb. “What are you getting at?"

“I mean to say size gives them power. You do not realize it when you are friends, but it is always there. Always. Friend only makes you weaker to their influence. Dependence and feeling of owing them can only become worse for you."

“What the fuck happened to you?"

Maduk paused, blinking several times. “What?"

“What the fuck happened to you?" Dylan repeated. “You don't trust the aliens. You're afraid of them, right?" Dylan leaned forward, closing some of the distance with the shorter man. “You trying to ruin this whole program? Bad encounter with the UTO? We've all heard some stories, sure." He scowled, teeth clenched with anger. “Doesn't mean you gotta go trying to dig up dirt that ain't there. What's your deal?"

They both stared at each other in a several seconds long silence. The edge of Maduk's mouth twitched. “This… whole approach. Guardians, charges. It is wrong. It is like pets to protect, and the pet is loyal. Bad for us." He breathed deeply out through his nose. “It is good you do not cling to your lupari, as if you need her. Be wary, despite."

“Uh-huh… we done here?"

“Yes, yes," He waved two of his fingers and turned away from Dylan. “Enjoy your new machine. It should have been provided from the very start."

**

After breakfast, they were taken to a recently built wing to the hospital that specialized in implanting new human soldiers and issuing their powered armor and mechs in one fell swoop. The 'Mechanized Prosthetics Wing' as it was named made it sound like they were cripples, as some of the humans were quick to point out. Unlike the alien soldiers, the mechs were to function as body prosthetics, rather than gear to retrieve from the armory. The powered armor, too, was to be something kept within the mech for whatever use they'd be called for – including rougher handling from their larger comrades that might lack guardianship training.

Despite the lack of staff at the new facility, it didn't take long to move through the men waiting their turn. He didn't hear any blood curdling screams coming down the halls, either, but that didn't stop the chatter about the stories they were told. Dylan and the other humans were eager to defeat their crippling, vertical handicaps, however. Blistering pain wasn't keeping any of them from an eight-story tall mech.

Instead, all that happened was someone put a pneumatic gun to the back of his neck and shot a two-inch-wide disc into him. It stabbed into his spine, he winced, saw double for a moment, and then that was it. The nurse laughed at him when he asked if it was permanent.

He was placed into what looked like an MRI, but it interfaced with his new implant while it scanned his whole body. He thought the machine would stab him in the neck, but he couldn't feel a thing while it supposedly calibrated. The most interesting thing about the whole procedure was the round of drugs they sent through an IV. He was told he was going to go through a spiral of emotions to let the device properly configure with his mind and body, but right now, he just felt like he was shot full of fantastic painkiller.

"How are you feeling, private?" He heard the new woman's voice just outside of the machine.

“Good... good..." He mumbled incomprehensibly and smiled dopily from within. "Drugged. Are you, are, are you didn't just... shoot me with morphine?"

The unseen woman chuckled and he heard her heels clacking on the floor as she went to the other side of the machine. "Would you have liked that?"

"Ye.. yeeaahhh..." The word trailed off with a long breath, and he suddenly started to laugh, his voice echoing off of the inside of the machine. "Oh God, doc!" he said between laughs, his restrained hands tapping at the table he was laid out on. "You know the most common shit guys come to me for?"

He heard some typing on a physical keyboard. "Inability to urinate, defecate, or become erect?"

"Yeah... yeah! Back on Earth, you know during the war, I had porn stocked like it was goddamn medicine. These guys... these guys..." He laughed some more, unable to get the words out. "They'd come to me all meek, saying they couldn't get wood thinking about their girls. I think it was the... whole stress of that nightmare, or whatever. So I asked them to describe their woman, then I'd give them a porn mag that kinda matches what they like and some viagra. And then... and..."

Dylan trailed off again, and suddenly his legs kicked and thrashed, the restraints on them keeping him held down. "Petty bullshit! Most days I'm treating fucking plasma burns, keeping people's goddamn skin from falling off, and these assclowns come crying to me, make me scavenge for stuff to get their dicks hard, because they couldn't sit around and stroke off all day. What the fuck?! I don't have time for that shit! I'm not their goddamn..."

The medic trailed off yet again and shook his head. He relaxed and closed his eyes again. "Who am I kidding? I had to help them. The number of them that came to me for help... morale was already awful. A kid nineteen years old that can't get it up... that's just going to make it worse for him. Give them something to take and something to enjoy, tell nobody else, and hope it works. I don't think anyone outside the medics knew just how many of the soldiers had this problem..."

Dylan started to mutter incomprehensibly to himself, his thoughts becoming muddled as his mood changed once more. He felt drugged as before, with a simple sense of enjoyment overtaking him. He heard voices outside, calmly talking about whatever it was they were seeing in his scans. He started to feel like he was dozing off as the surreal thoughts of the dream laden mind danced at the edges of his thoughts. He opened his eyes to try to avoid falling asleep, but his blinking became slow, with his eyes staying shut longer than they should have. He felt strangely afraid, terrified even, but unable to move his body. By the fourth blink, they stayed closed, and Dylan was asleep.

**

A huge, white fanged, cheshire grin broke the darkness. It was impossibly wide, and the golden eyes above it twinkled with a glee that looked out of place with the show of teeth. Light suddenly filled the world, as if a switch was flipped and the sun began to shine. A huge, four-legged, bright red dragon with scales that glimmered in the daylight completed the grin, though it's face was disturbingly flat and made of nothing but that wicked grin and eyes. Its wings spread out with a huge flutter, blocking the sun and casting a dark shadow across the ground below, and upon Dylan at its taloned feet as it looked down at him, and the little human right back, the both of them staring intently at each other.

Dylan felt locked in fear, his teeth clenched tightly together, gnashing. He felt the urge to run, but his legs wouldn't budge. The dragon wasn't doing anything, simply standing in place, looking frightening. That grin made him feel cold, as if ice was blasting over his cheeks. But that was all it was, a big, ridiculous grin. The more he stared at it, the more he found the flat face completely ridiculous.

He laughed, and he abruptly felt movement in his limbs as he sat down right in front of the dragon, laughing harder. “You gonna do something or just sit there with that stupid fucking smile?" He shouted up at the dragon, his own ridiculous gin plastered across his face. “Come on..." His voice grew softer, his chuckles fading. “There's nothing left."

The dragon's face swirled in on itself, fading into a wavy blur. It flickered, a mist seeming to roll off of it, just before it twisted back into the shape of a normal, red dragoness. Her golden eyes widened when she saw him, and her head twisted to one side as she lowered her snout down towards him. She pushed her nose up to him, nearly nudging his knees as he tucked them closer to himself. She blinked, then lightly pushed his leg. Dylan didn't flinch away, and silently watched her, waiting for her to do something else. She kept just as still as him, and he had the sense she was waiting for him to do something now.

Slowly, he extended his hand out over his knees, and placed it between the dragoness's nostrils. She rumbled and lightly pushed against it, apparently approving of the gesture. Dylan smiled as he scratched at the scales.

White furred fingers slid over his shoulders and squeezed. Dylan looked at one, then up at the wolfess standing above him. Kira. She bent down, her muzzle going for his cheek. He felt her lips pressed against it, her damp, cool nose just above as she planted a kiss, and her hand slid down his chest, over his stomach…

Dylan awoke with a gasp, face down on a gurney. He rolled over and his hand touched his cheek. It was wet! He pushed himself up with his other arm and frantically looked around. He swore he felt that kiss still on his cheek. And apparently his chin. He looked down and saw a large wet spot on his pillow. He wiped the saliva from around his mouth and rolled over and swung his legs over the edge of the gurney, his bare feet hanging dangling just above the ground. The movement made him finally realize the stiffness in his groin.

A dark skinned woman came around to meet him, making the delirious soldier jump and grab his damp pillow to smother his lap. “Doc! How long was I out? What happened?"

She peered at his face, and Dylan squinted back, his vision slightly blurry from having to remove his glasses. He could still make out her name tag, 'M. Pollard.' She hastily tapped at the device, typing something. "Not even five minutes," she said. “That last round of the leyanin cycle is meant to provoke a fear and arousal response. You're the first I've seen that fell unconscious from it. Strange, but not unheard of. How is the pain?"

“Arousal?..." His legs pressed together, trying to smother said arousal beneath the pillow. “Pain's no more than you said it would be."

Pollard looked at her tablet and wrote in a few notes with a stylus. "We detected a very low reaction to the fear phase, yet the arousal phase was very brief and intense."

Dylan blushed and awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. “Is that bad?"

The doctor lowered her tablet and looked at him, a knowing squint in her eyes. "No. Your implant interfaced successfully. Your post traumatic stress likely created these peculiar effects from the leyanin drug. It's not unheard of among the aliens, but it was interesting to see it in a human myself. You are perfectly healthy."

Dylan snorted. "That depends on who you ask."

"Perhaps. But you are physically healthy and the neural interface was safely implanted." She looked back down at her tablet, writing a few more notes, and started to run him through a series of basic tests. She ensured he had full control of his body, and checked for any pain beyond the expected stinging from the implantation site, and to determine that his thoughts were clear of the leyanin.

Once she was done with her checklist, she had Dylan dress back into his fatigues, then follow her out of the room. He checked his pockets for his glasses case and was about to put the lenses on, but Pollard told him unless he was blind and needed them to walk around, he should just leave them off. He was then lead out into a hallway of a sleek, dark blue laboratory like area. It was a mostly barren place, with a scare few people around. Construction on one side of the wing was still in progress. The whole morning here, all he saw were a rare few medical staff and a number of the workers constructing the rest of the wing.

"Ma'am," Dylan said as he walked, boots thumping on the ground compared to the clack of her heels. "Are complications common enough to call for that thorough of a post-operation check?"

Pollard glanced sidelong at Dylan behind her, then looked forward again. "That is a refreshing observation, Private Maddock. Half of the men before you tried to use the checkup as a means to flirt with me." Dylan grinned and shrugged, looking away from her. Maybe he would have, too, flushed as he was. But peculiar sights of a white wolfess were still dancing in his head, and this doctor wasn't quite usurping her, which was baffling all its own. "As for your question, no, I have not witnessed any complications so far. I'm admittedly, a bit disappointed. There are only twenty-one human soldiers on this base. This small number allows me to personally oversee every aspect of medical operations that are still new to me, but the implantation has been rather unimpressive until your reactions to leyanin."

The medic nodded in understanding. "I know how you feel. I'm going to have to go through new medical training after I'm acquainted with my armor and mech. The anticipation for the armor and mech alone…"

"I do not envy you."

"Why?"

She turned down a short hallway, a sign noted it as 'Exoskeletal Assistance.' “I am only required to work with human patients. Your training involves field operations on aliens, even without your mech."

The medic clicked his tongue. “I still get to drive a giant robot."

They walked through a sliding door into a large machine laboratory. In the center of the lab were several sets of human power armor of varying height, from under six feet to around six and a half feet tall. Each one otherwise looked the same. They all were painted with the UTO's camouflage pattern, a mix of dark gray, black, and dark blue, just like Dylan's fatigues. The armored suits were adorned with plates and meshing they claimed could protect against heat and make the small humans more durable against anything from a fall to a flick from large fingers. Attached to the front chest plates, around much of the waist and the thighs, were a smattering of pouches of varying size, all of which matched the camouflage pattern. Beneath all of this were signs of the synthetic musculature of the armor, which gave it its enhanced strength. Topping it off was a plated helmet with a fully transparent visor down to the chin. Altogether, it looked like a light suit of armor compared to the massive sets of gear with their thick playing and heatsinks that Dylan saw on the alien troops in the simulations.

Pollard left Dylan next to one of the suits of armor as she went over to a pair of technicians. "Doctor," Dylan asked after her. "How'd they get all this ready for human use so fast?"

The woman sat herself down at a computer. "Simulations and artificial intelligences, Private Maddock," she said. "The UTO operates quickly. Studies into these sorts of things were started even before Earth was liberated. Now there are many human soldiers around UTO space receiving the first attempt at this new training." She looked up from her computer at him. "You are a lightly trained, although admittedly battle tested, soldier and a medic, being issued powered armor, an enormous machine to pilot, and the task of breaking ground in the medical field. The UTO's methods are unusual, but they yield impressively quick results. You will do well, I am certain of it. There is no need to worry."

"I didn't say I was worried."

She smiled and nodded at her screen. "Your implant is transmitting a lot of information. I do believe it looked like you were worried."

Dylan reached around to the back of his neck, touching the nub of his implant. It already didn't hurt. "Are you sure it can't read my mind?"

"It cannot. It merely offers medical data and functions as a neural interface."

"What if someone interfaced with it and controlled me?" He felt paranoid, but these were very valid questions! He'd watched and read enough sci-fi to be concerned.

“First, that is completely impossible. Second, it can only send signals, it is unable to receive anything remotely. This is to eliminate the possibility of it being disabled through cyber warfare."

Relatively satisfied, Dylan looked to his side at the armor next to him. "Is this going to be my armor?"

One of the technicians put up his finger. "Yep. That's your M48 'David.' Fitted for your dimensions, and ready to go." The man came out from around his work station, had Dylan put his things into vest pouches then took him around to the back of the armor, which was a little taller than the both of them. He had Dylan open his yutri, prompting the holographic display on his wrist, and the other man did the same. With a brief connection between them, Dylan synced his device with the armor's heads up display, and with his medical clearance, much more information from other suits of armor and their uses than he would probably ever need.

He looked around at his new armor interface program with the technician's guidance, and soon found a list of armors in his proximity. There were six, and at the top in bold green letters was '083M5 MADDOCK.' He chose his armor with a tap of his finger at the holo display, and found the diagnostic information, as well as the option to open it. He chose to open it, and the the armor's back slid open with enough space to fit his body and limbs into. The technician ran through some instructions, though all of it was already covered in the instructions he received in a few of their classes.

Dylan only half listened as he looked inside of the armor, perking up with excitement. He had a half smirk on his lips as he thought about it all - flying in space, meeting cool aliens, wearing power armor, shooting fancy space guns, and driving building sized mechs. Only thing missing were weirdly hot alien women.

His mind seemed to argue with him there, as Kira suddenly flashed into his head. He grimaced, a little worried the drug was still working on him, when the technician told him to get into the armor. Without a second thought, he climbed into the suit, aided by a bit of guidance from the technician. His hands slipped into the arms and then into the gauntlets, and his legs dropped down into the boots, covering his own pair. He placed his face into the faceplate of the helmet, his chin coming to rest on the support inside of the headgear.

The heads up display in the faceplate came on, and the armor started to close with a whir of small servos. Any misalignment with Dylan's body was simply straightened out by the padded interior sliding along his limbs and forcibly positioning him properly, causing the man inside to have horrible thoughts of the armor crushing an improperly placed elbow. With a clicking of connections the armor sealed closed, and Dylan felt his body unexpectedly sag. He caught himself and stood straight, but he didn't move. He didn't feel anything that felt like his mind was connected to this suit. There was no tingling at his neck, or alien sensation inside of his mind.

The technician walked out from behind the now armored medic. "Come on, check yourself out! It's not going to bite you." The man's voice sounded slightly filtered as it went through the helmet's sound dampeners, designed to make loud sounds like explosions muffled while letting softer sounds like a voice through unchanged.

Dylan raised one of his arms and looked it over. He expected it, but was still completely baffled by how weightless the armor was. His arm even felt paper light. "This is so badass," he said to the other man. He was grinning, even though his face was completely hidden by the faceplate.

The technician was nodding rapidly at him with his own massive smile. "Right?! I can't believe I went from robotics to THIS!"

Dylan stepped forward, leaving the armor's rack. It moved so easily. There was no delay in the movements. It functioned completely like a second skin. He held up his hands to his face and watched his fingers dexterously curl and flex. They were clearly visible, the blur of his vision fixed by the visor. "Holy shit is this real?"

"Increased strength, armor for no felt weight, advanced heads up display... bet your ass it's all real, pal. You're wearing power armor. Like a space marine!" The tech pulled a phone from one of his pockets – a physical smartphone – and held it up for a photo. “Strike a pose, Lightyear."

Dylan held up his arm and placed his other hand on the forearm. “No wrist lasers, though? Awww, damn…"

After a brief exchange of overexcitement, Dylan was lead to another room outside the laboratory. His armored boots thumped heavily on the floor as he walked, suggesting how much weight was in the armor, but he couldn't feel an ounce of it. The technician noticed how Dylan was watching his own footsteps. "Yeah, heavy right? Don't even feel it? Careful where you're going. Bump into someone without armor, and you'll bowl em over like you're a truck. You'll barely even feel them."

"I'll try not to break anything." He and the technician stopped in front of a large double-sided door.

"I mean. You can. Just not people. Head on through here," said the other man, the door already sliding open when Dylan stopped in front of it, showing another double-sided door on the other side, this one needing a clearance check. “You have to wait for the others to finish their implantation and equipping, so you're encouraged to test out the armor with all of the obstacles through here." He slapped Dylan on one his arm's plates. "Go nuts, man. It's fun."

Dylan watched him walk back towards the lab, then looked inside of the vestibule between the doors. It looked like it was storage for exercise equipment, though the racks looked mostly plundered already. Another rush of excitement hit him and he strode right on through with a bounce in his step. The door chimed when it detected him, already reading his clearance, and whooshed open.

The room looked like a massive, open floor gym. Free-weights and pull up bars to climbing walls and ropes were scattered around. The shouts of the other human soldiers excitedly testing out their new armor echoed off the high walls of the huge area, perhaps the size of a hangar with its running track looping around it. Two men in power armor were sprinting around the track. They didn't appear to be running much faster than a normal person would, but they were making huge, bounding leaps over obstacles dotted along the track, and showed no signs of wearing out. Their armor absorbed their landings, letting them hit the ground running with barely a stumble in their steps.

He wondered who they were, when the visors were down everyone looked the same. His HUD suddenly flickered with new information, responding to his curiosity. Corporal Kenneth and Sergeant Petrova had their names displayed to him along with their speeds and distance from Dylan, constantly updating as they ran.

"Dylan!" someone yelled across the room. The medic turned his attention towards one of the ropes, where a man was hanging halfway up one with just his arms, his legs dangling freely, while his other arm waved at him. His HUD reported it as Cody, then the information flickered out.

"Having a good time up there?!" Dylan shouted up at him. "If you fall and break your neck, I'm making you walk back to the docs!"

Cody laughed and let one hand go of the rope, hanging there by a single arm, flaunting his newfound strength with the armor. "Bet your ass! Check this out!" His hand returned to the rope, but his legs weren't wrapped around the rope, leaving all of his weight to be held up by his arms. With one mighty pull, he threw his entire body upward several feet, his grip leaving the rope only to snap back onto it and repeat the motion with another upward leap.

Dylan jogged across the room and looked up the rope at the corporal throwing himself towards the ceiling. The rangefinder in his HUD told him the ceiling was around 30 meters high. He looked at the other men gathered around the bottom, cheering him on. "Oh my God, that's the coolest shit! You guys taking time? Who was the fastest climb?

Lieutenant Russell, his visor up, clasped the medic on the shoulder. "That'd be me, nine seconds." His grin was just begging for Dylan to get up there and try to beat it himself.

A sudden shout of surprise came from Cody when he was just a few meters from the top. Dylan looked up just in time to see the soldier falling, his limbs flailing as he hurtled towards the ground. He hit the padded mat with a loud, heavy thump that Dylan felt even in his plated, heavy boots. The corporal bounced a few feet upward from the sheer velocity of the impact and landed again on his side.

"Jesus!" Dylan cried and shot over to his friend. He got down on his knees next to him and bent over to better inspect for damage. In his desperation to check Cody's status, the corporal's medical data popped up on Dylan's HUD. The medic paused, still hunched over Cody, and read the data. There were no warnings or notices, and it claimed Cody was perfectly healthy. All it reported was a recent 'minor' impact to the armor.

The corporal's hand suddenly shot up and grabbed Dylan by the armored collar around his neck. He was yanked downward as Cody lifted his head up. The foreheads of their helmets clattered together, and Dylan could see Cody's eyes through his visor. They were wide and wild, like a man pumped with adrenaline. "That's how we do now, Spade!" he shouted in Dylan's face.

The medic pushed his hand into the other soldier's chest and slammed him back down onto the mat. "I can't believe I forgot about the drop rating," The armor instruction course specifically mentioned in this planet's gravity, only a slight fraction less than Earth's, the armor's 'safe fall height' was 57.63 meters onto a hard surface, let alone a mat.

A few of the men laughed and Russell pulled Cody to his feet. "It's nice to see you care, lad," he said, then turned to the rope. He looked up at it as if judging it and his visor closed over his face. "You're paid to worry about us lot." He bent his legs, going into a half squat, then kicked off of the mat and jumped six meters up. He caught the rope with both hands, making it swing back and forth unsteadily, within a moment he was already mimicking Cody's leaps up the rope, but with far more grace. "But you don't need to pay me no mind, I assure you!" One arm pulled and threw him upward, shorter than Cody's lunges, but the other caught the rope further up and threw him up again. His legs kicked at the air to get just a bit more lunge from his leaps as he easily climbed the rope in rapid, short lunges upward that would leave most men exhausted. Within eight second, even as he nearly missed a few grabs as the rope swayed and jerked, Russell reached the girder the rope was tied to, attached to the ceiling. He hooked his forearm around a strut, then with one last mighty pull he threw himself towards the ceiling where his fist struck it with a loud bang that echoed in the large open space of the room, earning loud cheers from most of the other soldiers, even Dylan.

The Englishman's arm slipped free of the girder and he went flying back down toward the floor feet first. Though he had plenty of open space to land on, most of them still backed away just before he hit the mat with a louder thump than Cody's impact. Russell wobbled as his knees bent all the way down into a full squat, the armor absorbing the impact and keeping its wearer's legs from shattering. Russell stood straight again and kicked his legs gently, as if merely shaking a sleeping limb awake.

Dylan folded his arms and canted his head at Russell. The pose looked disapproving, but the visor concealed his lopsided smirk. "See, Cody? It's not that hard, you clumsy bastard." The corporal shoved the medic's shoulder, though Dylan expected it and with the armor's strength, barely even budged. "I take it you're just gonna do more crazy shit now that you have this armor, yeah, sir?" Dylan distinctly recalled the rappelling gear the SAS commando had going with his guardian before instructors cracked down on out-of-regulation handling.

Russell scoffed and pointed at the obstacle course. "You go and try what this armor can do, then come back and tell me you don't feel like you could jump out of helicopters."

Cody's armored gauntlet grabbed Dylan's shoulder and with a strong shove, spun the medic around and pushed him towards the obstacle course. "Run it! Luke fell on his head four times! Top that, I'll be impressed."

Dylan took off from the shove straight into a run towards a ten meter tall wooden wall with a big yellow outline in front of it saying 'Jump' in Common. Once he stepped in the square he jumped, but he overestimated how the armor would react. His jump was far too weak, and he held his arms out in front of him as he hurtled straight toward the wall.

He struck it with a crack, the wood splintering, and bounced off. He hit the hard floor on his back. His head lifted at the sound of laughter from the other soldiers. He scowled under his visor and raised his fist, his middle finger shooting up a moment later. That got a few more laughs and he waved it at them before he shot back to his feet. He was already impressed with how well the armor absorbed the impact, almost as if he bounded off a mattress rather than solid wood.

Dylan ignored the jeering and looked up at the wall, gauging its height and trying to guess how much the armor would launch him. Unfortunately, he really had no idea. Naturally, he decided to go as hard as he could. He squatted, then kicked off of the ground in a huge leap that sent him straight up the the height of the wall, but it wasn't enough. His hands scrabbled to grab a hold on the top edge of the wall. He felt a grip, then immediately pulled himself up with as much strength as he could before he lost all of his upward momentum.

The strength in his arms did exactly as he hoped - he found himself launched even higher, several meters up from the height of the wall. Unfortunately, he forgot about giving himself much of a forward push as he sprung upward almost completely vertically. He had barely enough momentum, and his legs caught the top of the wall, sending him into a forward flip. Dylan's face smashed into the other side of the wall, bouncing his skull off it once before he hit the ground head first. The rest of his body fell on the floor in a heap.

The medic rolled onto his back, blinking at the ceiling. Instinct was certain he should have a broken neck and a concussion, but he hardly even felt a daze from getting shaken around so much. The embarrassment when he heard the renewed laughter from his fellows was far worse. He heard the thumping of armored boots and a man stood over him, looking down. Master Sergeant Mitchell's name flashed onto Dylan's HUD. The older man was laughing, then reached down to drag the private to his feet.

"God damn National Guard. We'll get your shit together." He pushed Dylan back towards the start of the obstacle course, where the rest of the soldiers were starting to gather. "Alright!" he shouted to them. "That's enough fucking up the armor. Let's do this right."

**

Once the last man came in with his armor, Mitchell set them on an hour of working through the various obstacles. Jumps, climbing, and crawling, it was like basic training, but now filled with wild feats of physical ability and catastrophic accidents. The armor kept any stupid mistakes from being anything more than a bruise, but by the end of the end of the hour, they had a handle on their own strength, and barely felt a thing from the exertion. The armor was always described as a second skin, but just how true that was never seemed to occur to any of them. The armor was their body, and understanding your own capabilities came just as naturally. Once they were done, Mitchell took them off to the mech hangar.

“The mechs are going to feel a lot like this armor," Mitchell explained, leading them down a new hall. “It's a little slower, but like being a big, hulking, badass kind of slow. You'll get used to it." They passed a sign that read 'Mech Hangar' and Dylan felt his jaw clench with the excitement. They took another turn, and came to a sliding door. The panel next to it lit up when it recognized the sergeant's armor, and it opened up.

“Fuck me," blurted out the man at the front, then someone at the back pushed forward, prompting the whole group to hustle through in a stumbling mess. Mitchell stepped aside, not even bothering to try to stop the tide of soldiers.

They ran up to the railing on the other side of the wide platform they came out on, right next to a pair of mechs. They were facing sideways from them, leaving them at around elbow height with the behemoths. Thick with armor and painted with the camouflage pattern, they looked like they could be massive, metal men. The heads were even shaped like a human's. It almost looked like medieval, plate armor if not for how thick many of it was, and the patterning.

“Yeah, this is the proper assembly line shit." Mitchell stood behind them, looking up. “Not the cobbled together thing I have. It'll function practically the same, just look good doing it. Ours are all the way on the left."

They started off to the end of the wide hangar, passing rows upon rows of machines, around ten deep. Dylan guessed there had to be around a hundred in here. The lack of other people, yet so many of these unmoving giants, gave an eerie vibe. An AI probably marched them in here in one, bizarrely synchronized march.

“Here we go, kids. The new Mark I Goliath. Warning you right now. Lot of you are gonna panic. Some of you are gonna puke your guts out." Mitchell stopped at the last row. “Messes you up the first few times. Calm yourself in the darkness before you fully activate. These things start with a safety that won't let you boot in while you're under duress, until you're outta training. Taking on a whole, mechanical body can fuck you up. So don't go in with your helmets up, and grab a sick bag from the aid kit. If you hurl all over the inside of your mech, you're going the rest of the day with it. If you drown in your helmet, you're a stupid shit. Questions?"

“How we get out if we gotta hurl?" someone asked.

“It's neural. You want out, you get out. It'll boot you back to yourself. It's as easy they said it'll be." He paused for any more questions, then tossed his head toward the mechs. “Your HUDs will show which mechs are yours. Again, it's as you learned in class, kids. You sit down, and you, ah, you think about it. Connecting mentally. A real, proper thought. No pussyfooting around. I know that's gonna be tough shit for the marines here, but it's all intuitive. The whole deal. If you can't do it, I'll kick you out of this program myself. Get going, and good luck. This shit is fun as hell, and easier than you think."

The mechs seemed to be arranged by whatever units they belonged to, meaning Cody's and Dylan's were just next to each other. Dylan was staring up at his, its empty, dark slit for eyes staring down him, when Cody walked up next to him to admire his own.

“God damn, man. This is it."

Dylan slowly shook his head. “I can't believe I made it."

“No kidding. Either you lock that shit down, or you're not as messed up as we all thought you were."

Dylan shrugged. “Maybe both?"

“Maybe." He looked sidelong at the medic, not quite wanting to tear his gaze from the mech. “We all thought you'd fall out of the program, you know. Surprised we only lost one human in all this."

“I thought they'd get rid of me soon as they found out I was a bit fucked." Dylan chuckled, and he grinned with satisfaction at his Goliath. “Between somehow getting picked for this shit, and that stage show of an 'investigation' Duntay did, I'd swear someone wanted me here."

“I'm glad you made it, whatever happened. You're some tough shit, I don't know how you do it. Wouldn't even know you have anything messed up most of the time. Cool as ice motherfucker."

Dylan slapped Cody on the back, and pushed him forward. “Least till I'm not. The hell we standing around for? Let's do this."

“Hey man, almost don't want to. It's like growing up all over again." Cody said, and stepped out just in front of his mech, Dylan in front of his own. Both of the machines' chest plates opened in near unison with just a thought from their soon-to-be pilots. Dylan was almost surprised it actually worked, and just how simple it was.

“We're a couple dumbass kids with our first cars?" The deck thunked when it bottomed out, a simple step off from the catwalk. Dylan felt like his anticipation was going to choke him in the back of throat.

“Grown up, don't need the parents anymore. Finding our independence."

Both men stepped onto their decks. Dylan wanted to keep the joking going, but stepping onto that plate sent a rush of excitement up through his legs, and he threw himself into the Goliath's armored capsule of a torso. “Let's just start this shit!"

The inside wasn't too roomy – a small, armored capsule with its pilots chair and two, cramped passenger seats behind it. An equally tiny lavatory and powered armor dock was tucked away somewhere between all of the emergency equipment stowage compartments and manual control screens. Compared to the inside of Mitchell's, everything seemed well hidden away until it would be needed.

Dylan half listened to repeated instructions over his helmet's radio and looked for the aid kit, which turned out to be more of a medical cabinet for him, and grabbed a biohazard bag, not caring to check out anything else in light of getting to use a mech at long last. He opened the bag, tucked it into a chest pouch, and settled into the chair and buckled in the harness.

He felt ridiculous 'thinking' about connecting to the mech, but it was barely a moment of concentrated thought before the braces on the chair firmly locked his limbs in place, and there was the flash of white light, like in the simulations, but far, far too brief. His consciousness jumped straight into darkness. His 'body' lost all familiar senses – the touch of the straps, the sterile smell of the air, the sound of the dull hum of the hangar, and sight of the world. He felt sick.

'Oh fucking shit,' he tried to say, but he felt like his mouth was sown shut. He could only think it. Instinct made him want to grab for his mouth before he vomited, try to open it, but he couldn't do a thing. The mech, still inactive, spared him from tearing the hangar apart in a panic. A few suggested commands suddenly appeared in the darkness, 'Activate Goliath Functions?' and 'Return Consciousness?' It was as if they appeared right on the inside of his closed eyelids.

The unnatural sight didn't help his nausea, but the machine sensing his unease and reminding him what he could do settled his nerves. Before panic set in, Dylan focused on that sick feeling, the most human sensation he had. The link deprived anything that would interfere with accurate piloting of the mech, but it let bodily functions through by necessity. The sick feeling felt distant, as if he didn't have a gut to feel sick over, just his mind telling him he had, like a phantom pain.

It served as well as he needed. His nerves settled as the familiar sickness dominated his thoughts, and soon too the need to vomit receded. Within half a minute, he let his mind refocus on the hud around him, relieving in the sight of something, and finally pushed himself the rest of the way into the machine. The mech activated with a whir of motors and servos, a boom of metal, a sudden looseness in his limbs, his eyes opened to reveal the hangar before him, with the catwalk far below.

“Well done, private!" Mitchell's voice reached Dylan's mechanical ears, boosting the sound of his voice as if he weren't a tiny man standing before him. He looked down at the catwalk to see the sergeant standing there, watching him. He was highlighted in orange by the mech's HUD. “You got that thing going before some of the commandos." He jabbed a thumb over at Cody's Goliath. “Shaw's in there with his face in the bag."

“Thank you, sergeant," Dylan rattled off, his voice coming through as his own. He raised his hands. They moved like his own, the metal fingers curled like his. He touched them together, testing the haptic feedback. They felt like his. He touched his face, the fingers making a dull bang as they touched the blank plate of armor below his eyes. The touch felt dull, like a pressure, but lacking any texture of the touch. It simply acknowledged something was touching his 'body' right there.

He felt like crying. He watched his machine hands tremble, as if he couldn't believe this was real. He was big, he was powerful. After all this time, he was going to be on the level of the aliens. Relief gripped his heart, he swore he could feel it in his real chest. His thoughts danced with the potential. Here was the freedom to be normal. He had a body that moved like his own, just a big version of his powered armor, which itself was like a skin. It was a transplant, as natural a prosthetic as he could ever have imagined possible.

He backed out of the mech dock and into the lane behind him. His legs moved as they should have, he felt the pressure beneath his feet with each step. He felt an unnatural balance, as if none of his musculature had to put in any effort to keep upright, but that paled in comparison to the unusual feelings of not feeling his mouth move, or the lack of smells, or even the feeling of the air on his skin.

None of that quite mattered. The rush of freedom made him grab his hands together and look to the ceiling of the hangar to thank the universe.

A bang on his shoulder took him out of his reverie. Dylan turned to face another mech, His HUD informed him it was Lieutenant Dolby. “Feel that, lad? Are you feeling that… that bliss?"

Dylan nodded, and looked back at his mech's old dock, then past Russell and down the lane to the outside, beyond the few other Goliaths, to the outside. “Imagine it, sir. We get to finally walk to lunch."

--

Kira and Yirshan walked alongside each other, kitted out in their powered armor. It was fully equipped with thick, plasma resistant armor plating, doubling their entire bulk. Even Yirshan's wings were covered in segmented plates. Both of their helmets were completely removed and hanging from their belts via magnetic clamp, folded in upon themselves. A plasma rifle was magnetically clamped to the side of Kira's backpack, while Yirshan's battle rifle was horizontal, just above her tail. The rest of her gear was in a pair of heavy satchels, attached to armored skirts at her waist, rather than in a backpack.

Kira was panting softly, the insides of her ears flushed red from exertion from their laps around the base, while Yirshan was breathing hard and dumping enough heat from her armor's radiators that Kira could feel it through her muzzle fur. Behind them, their platoon followed in a loose formation, all of them wearing their armor and weapons as well, and their strides were slow and tired just like their sergeants. Physical training with the armor mostly deactivated was always utterly miserable.

Kira glanced sidelong at her friend, then at Lieutenant Kulsah a few steps ahead of them. A coy little grin crossed her muzzle, a fang poking out over her lower lip, and she said to the both of them. "So worked up from a little walk, hm?"

Yirshan looked down at the other sergeant. "It'd be easier if we didn't have to crawl for you, stubby legs."

The lupari bristled and growled in her throat, but her retort was cut off by Fahne, the officer fluttering her tremendous wings and pointing ahead to the large base hospital. “The major is waiting for us."

Kira placed her hand over her eyes, covering from the sunlight. “He's with Tahsah and..." Her head tilted, ears folding with worried surprise. “That's Duntay." The three officers watched second platoon approach, while not far behind them most of the guardians from the battalion had already gathered. Hopefully, it was going to be a small briefing about the mech training, but the presence of Duntay had Kira nibbling on her lower lip as she and the two arkatians broke off from second platoon to meet them.

“Lieutenant, Sergeants," Ufurin said with a quick round of salutes, then fixed his attention on Kira. “I'm hearing that your charge tried to humiliate Maduk today."

Kira felt her tail stiffen up, but she kept her face impassive. “Private Maddock only humiliated him by taking to Sergeant Kultak far better than he had hoped."

One side of the big ralai's mouth twitched with a smirk. “And what of the mocking of Maduk's fear over aliens?"

Kira shrugged. “I didn't hear any mocking."

The major flicked an ear. “Nobody has, it seems, but he sure went on like he did. Delusional, clearly." Kira didn't miss noticing the pleased tone in his voice, or even the scent. Nobody seemed to be confirming the civilian's complaints.

“Whatever happened, he was not happy," Duntay said, his large ears locked upright with anger over just thinking of the man. “He was seen in administration looking for information about transfers. I asked the AI what he was doing, but the data exchange was put under a classified lock. So, I'm afraid he is planning something, perhaps for a way to have guardian and charge pairs separated through transfer. Which I believe means you, Kira, and Dylan are at particular risk."

“He can do that?" Kira held up her hand, waving it as if she were the only one that saw the big problem here. “Are you saying he could have us transferred on a whim? How can he do so much?"

Lieutenant Tahsah placed a reassuring hand on the other lupari's forearm. “Not without a reason, he'd have to make a case for why it's good for the training. But, he can make decisions on who gets to train with who. Mix and match units, if you will." Seeing Kira calm down a little with that, she let go of her arm. “In theory he could send Dylan to a unit with no guardians, but then one would have to come with him anyway. He could even bring in other soldiers that haven't had any experience with humans and call it a part of the integration training. I'm not sure what good this would do him, however. Andrew is escorting him around today, so we're hoping he'll have the chance to message me with more, but whatever he's been doing, he's been discreet. He's been dealing with a few AIs, and they won't tell anything."

“I understand," Kira said. “Thank you for giving me the chance to keep my ears up." Her head canted. “But why are you here, Captain?"

Duntay's rigid ears wilted, folding down the back of his head with a big flop. “Ah, well. The apparent evidence against me seems to have been… 'substantial'. I am to be dismissed from my position and required to take sensitivity training with the next round of recruits next month. I was hoping to at least be here to observe how the humans take to their mechs." He looked up to the striped ralai next to him. “Major, would you allow me in proximity of some of the humans?"

Ufurin dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “You know I cannot allow that, captain. Keep distance if you want to watch, but I'm not risking giving Maduk more to work with. He already has too much clout. Gods only know why."

The viliti sagged. “I understand. I hope the first training goes well."

Kira watched him turn and go with her own ears flat against her head. She was hoping Duntay could see more of how Dylan was doing, even if she thought he ultimately didn't do much at all to help him. Even just more personal experience seeing the other pairs in action. She wasn't a psychologist, but she doubted she was the only one that's noticed the effects of these pairings. Sometimes it felt like people were trying to not notice it.

Ufurin dismissed the sergeants to form up with the other guardians while the rest of the battalion's platoons gathered, ready to take on their new, mechanized soldiers for the day's training. The major gave them a warning that Maduk was looking into transfers, and to be careful not to give him any reasons to disrupt everything. Tahsah then took the lead, informing them of their significantly lightened duties now that the humans had their mechs, how it would lessen further once more soldiers would receive more training in handling humans. She'd already heard this plenty of times before.

Kira let her mind wander off, away from the anxiety over what absurd attempt at sabotage Maduk was planning on next. Dylan, of course, became her first thought. She'd finally 'meet' him in reality with his own, regular sized body. A cold, hard body that took out all of the excitement of a simple touch, but the simple act of being able to sit together at their bench made her smile to herself. It was the thought of no longer needing to carry him that set her tail into a sad hang. She'd miss that simple routine most of all.

“Just remember, you've formed this bond." Kira's ears twitched, recognizing the start of a lupari bond tangent, and bringing her back to focus. “Your roles as guardians might not be as critical to the humans any more, but I know for a fact they'll keep looking to you as their best friend." She held up her hands, grinning at the lot of them. “I know, I know. Sounds like I'm going into lupari heart throbbing. But I know you will be spending a lot of time with your charges, no matter how often they are in their mechs. Many of them will want to still spend time with you without the machines. You're all a part of a very special experiment with the most alien species we have ever encountered, and I couldn't be more pleased with how well we've taken them in."

Kira felt her chest puffing up with the speech. She knew it to be true. After all this, threre was no way Dylan would hide inside his mech. He was still her friend. “I lament the incident last week," Tahsah continued. “I cannot understand how anyone such as that falashai could have made it through the guardian screening. Mistakes such as that are expected during every integration period. It's due to the physical nature of the humans that special care is taken. The opportunity for exploiting their species is so large, it might happen purely on accident. I know you have all noticed how strange behavior has gotten, a breakdown in military bearing, if you will. It is not unusual, it has been observed since shortly after first contact with the humans. I felt it back on Earth, during liberation. The phenomenon scares some people, even humans, such as Maduk. You are the first to have experienced it outside of the bonds of combat. Discovering these unusual developments is simply another part of integration. Maduk might think of it as wrong, some of you might, your charges might, but we can only let it happen and try to learn more about it. Simply keep your tails straight and allow reason and instinct guide you through this, together. Thank you."

The lieutenant bowed her head and turned away with the major. The guardians all relaxed when he dismissed them, and the small formation broke in on itself. “By the stars," Yirshan said, clapping Kira on the shoulder as she approached. “Sometimes I wonder if lupari are made of nothing but fluff on the inside."

Kira felt her ears warming as laughter surrounded her, a few growls getting lost in it as the handful of lupari among them made the typical, half-hearted snarl at the ever-present, wholly true stereotype. Kira bore her teeth up at Yirshan, but it didn't stop the small wag of her tail.

--

A few struggles with illness slowed things down, forcing most of them to wait. The corridors very quickly demonstrated just how small they were as they filled up. An irony, considering the human condition, that Dylan was happy to welcome. The narrowness and bulk of the mechs meant they had to sidestep around each other if they wanted past. Seeing the proximity protection in action when it forced the pilot's movement's into a different direction, like redirecting an armor, if not outright stopping it from tearing in a catwalk, was oddly amusing to play with. Mitchell assured them it only functioned in docking areas so dumbass rookies wouldn't rip the place apart, and ordered the active mechs out into the staging area.

The large open space let them move around properly, get a feel for the machines, and marvel at how natural they felt. Dylan played a few rounds of rock, paper, scissors with some others to try out the response times. A few others even thumb wrestled to see the dexterity of the fingers. Some started exercises, a few marines dropping into push-ups. Thanks to the fact they weren't themselves doing any movements, essentially sleeping in padded chairs, there didn't seem to be any limit to how many they could do. Heat generation was the real limiting factor, but something meant to vent plasma strikes against the armor had no issues with such a simple exercise.

Soon enough, Mitchell and the rest of the mechs came out of the docking halls. The sergeant's mech was a little larger than theirs, more obviously repurposed from an alien's powered armor with its unneeded bulk, but it was no less physically capable as the new standardized Goliath.

“You're not getting a new one, sarge?" Isidoro asked.

“Already broke this one in." The old prototype mech waved its hand in circular motion. “Form up, out the airlock, and hook up with your platoons. Get moving, we're already behind."

They hardly had to be told twice, even PT sounded like one of the most exciting things Dylan could imagine right now, but meeting the aliens in this mech topped the list. “Shit, man," he said, head turning slightly to speak to Cody. “We're gonna see the others eye to eye, for real. Even taller than most of them."

Cody held a hand to his midsection. “Ugh, yeah, cool. Hey, doc, you figure out how to turn off sickness yet?"

“Defaults are locked until after training. Sorry." There was supposed to be all sorts of functions inside these machines, even a survival knife inside one of the forearms, but all of that was locked until they could be somewhat trusted not to ruin everything.

“Great." They started walking, the sealed doors sliding open to the outside air, letting them funnel out to meet their units. “Hey, you think they made these things so big so we'll be shot at first?"

“Who knows, man. Stronger like this?" He shrugged, and scanned the assembled platoons waiting outside. His HUD went to work, identifying the units for him. “But maybe. They say we'll be able to keep going with the heads blown off, lose an arm… badass."

“Uh huh…" He made sick, smothered retching sound. “I don't feel so badass right now."

“Suck it up. There's 2nd over there. Let's go." Dolby already broke off, and the other two followed off after him.

Hoots and hollers welcomed many of the humans, and Yirshan certainly made her approval known with a loud, bellowing roar. “Look at them!" she cried, the first to step forward. “Super soldier program is finally real. Sick one is Cody." The rest of the platoon broke and met their freshly upgraded comrades.

“Hng…" Cody groaned. “Thanks for the faith."

The alien soldiers crowded around the Goliath's, a few clapping them on the back. Dylan looked around at all of them, nearly shocked silent that he could see the tops of most of their heads. Only the arkatians and neishor were around the heights of the mechs. He felt his fingertips twitching with the excitement. Here he was like one of the guys, as it should be.

Kira stepped in front of his mech looking up at him as he loomed nearly head taller than her. “So, this is what the top of your head looks like," Dylan said, distracted from the rest of the excited platoon.

“Private gets a big suit of armor and thinks he can start making short jokes, hm?" She grinned up at him, her rarely shown teeth breaking across her muzzle. He tried to smile back, but it took him an awkward moment to realize he didn't even have a face. He noticed her nostrils flaring in search of scents off of him, and one of her ears was slowly wilting. She couldn't read him in this machine.

He offered one of his hands. She looked down at it, then grabbed it with both of her own. Her power armor gave her a lot of bulk, but his hand was still larger than hers. All he felt from her turning his hand over to inspect and touch it was a gentle haptic feedback. It was a far cry from feeling her touch outside of their armor. “What do you think?" he asked her as her hand moved up to the forearm.

“Big, impressive, and smells like fresh paint."

She didn't seem as enthused as he thought she might be. “Not quite as appealing as usual, I take it."

Kira let go of his arm and looked at him with a sly smirk. “I preferred your glasses."

“Now that's enough playing around," Lieutenant Dolby's voice called over the platoon. “Let's get moving! We've got hand to hand training first. Turns out, I'll be teaching you lot a few things." He gestured for everyone to form up. Fahne appeared to have handed command to her charge, so the sergeants rounded them up into a quick formation, and they headed off onto a path. Other platoons headed off to the weapons range, started laps, hit the obstacles, or the unlucky ones jumped straight into mech pilot retrieval.

“You know," Dylan said to Kira, both of them walking side by side in formation. “Maybe I can beat you now."

“Nope," Kira said, not hiding her smug grin.

Dylan wanted to argue with that, but decided boasting wasn't in his best interest with the likely event she'd destroy him in front of the platoon. “Fine." He decided for a change in subject. “You guys really gonna hit the obstacles with us? That's kind of back to basic."

Kira flicked her ear. “I believe it's to counter the loss in professionalism the program has been spreading through the battalion. I suppose it helps that we start seeing you as powerful and capable rather than something cute and needing protection."

“Ah, yes." He looked down at his body and dusted at his chest plate with a swipe of his fingers. “I'm an unstoppable killbot now."

“Don't worry. I'll prove that wrong."

“… Be gentle?"

--

There was a reason Lieutenant Russel Dolby was just an acting lieutenant and bound for the rank of major once this was all over. He was the most experienced soldier in the battalion, bar none. He and the other human special forces were headed into the Selective Insertion forces after this. In the meantime, however, he was happy to teach them some of what he knew, including a bit of hand to hand fighting.

Kira has been a martial arts aficionado since she was a pup, however, and found the human's demonstrations to be as expected – very similar to neishor martial arts. She assisted him with demonstrating takedowns for larger, heavier opponents, the techniques being very familiar to her, but offering a few insights into how a trained human moves their legs and shifts their feet, their plantigrade foot structure and lack of tails giving them some slight differences in balance.

She was much more eager to get to the sparring practice to put Dylan through his paces. She trained him in the sims, but that wasn't the same. The mind could learn the techniques there, but the body only truly learned the motions in reality. Of course, Dylan was in a conscience transfer into something that didn't need muscle memory, so that might have been completely irrelevant anyway.

“Lieutenant Dolby, sir," Kira said as the platoon was put to work practicing. “If you'd allow it, I'd like to take Dylan further away for a proper sparring match. I've been training him in the simulations and want to see how he performs now."

“You'll eat that poor bastard alive." He laughed at the look she gave him. “Poor words. Go ahead, get some distance. He needs all the help he can get. Give him some proper instruction after the thrashing."

Kira thanked the officer and took Dylan a good distance out into the field. He'd taken to moving too much, evading her, and needed the space. “You're just eager to beat me up, is that right?" he protested once they chose their spot.

“Of course." The tip of her tongue slipped out to tease him before she slipped her helmet onto her head. “Actually, though, it's good training for you to learn how to deal with a smaller, more agile opponent. I know you humans know as well as anyone that size doesn't define everything."

“Right. Okay," He took on the stance she taught him.

“We'll start with a proper spar," she said, mirroring him. “I want to see how you move with this larger size and I want to see you still using the techniques I taught you, they should still hold mostly the same. Go."

She opened with the first kick, and he leapt backward. To her satisfaction, the mech seemed to embolden him from being too defensive, and he went after her. His swipes were too slow, she slipped out of his attempts to grapple, and she shifted away from attempts to unbalance her. She appreciated the aggression, while simultaneously noting what she had to teach him to use his new size.

Kira let it go on for a bit before she decided it was time to make her move. She twisted into a heavy, high kick, strong and slow enough for even him to see coming. He liked to grab too much when he did become aggressive, and as she expected, he latched onto her leg with both of his arms just as it struck him in the side. He moved to push forward, trying to shove her off her other foot and knock her down, but she saw it coming and used her armor's strength push up off her planted leg to leap up and around him. His hold on her leg forced him into a spin and helped her hurtling form to swing around for her free leg to slip over his shoulders and over his chest. Her momentum set him into a twist that sent him crashing down onto his side.The mech slammed into the ground, clumps of dirt erupting around it. Kira dampened her own fall with a roll, then quickly grabbed for one of the mech's to twist it out of use, but it wasn't offering up any resistance.

“Dylan?" she asked. No response. “Dylan!" She let go of the arm and scrambled around to look at the mech's chest. She tapped on it with her armored knuckles.

“Ow," he said, still unmoving.

“Ow?" She breathed out her relief. “You felt that?"

“G forces, maybe? Not sure. Feel dazed. Might have passed out." She eyed his chest worriedly, but he started to laugh. “God damn, my head. I need to get out of this thing."

Kira perked excitedly, her armored tail going into a wag. She pulled her helmet off while Dylan brought the mech up to a sit. The chest opened into the flat deck, and her charge staggered out, looking dizzy, then hunched over, holding his knees.

“Are you alright?" Kira bent down close to sniff at him. His real, human scent was reassuring compared to that sterile machine, even if it was just his face not covered by his new armor.

He waved her away and stood up straight. “I'm fine. Just felt all that in… real me. Crazy. Shit, you're good."

“I know. That's the one time, we'll do more careful training. I wouldn't know what I'd do if you actually got hurt." Kira looked up behind them, making sure nobody was looking too closely, then quickly brought her muzzle to him for a quick nosing. His armor was cold, hard, and it made him that much harder to move, but it was the gesture that mattered. “Your armor looks good. It's like what Special Insertion wears."

Dylan scratched at the sides of her muzzle, ruffling her whiskers. “Neural armor, neural mechs, not that reactive junk you have. Humans get all the good stuff."

She rumbled low in her throat, nudging him back a few steps with her nose. “This junk kicked your tail."

Dylan laughed, and Kira waited for his snarky retort, but his laugh trailed off and his hands slowly slipped from her muzzle. He needed to say something. The lupari pulled herself back up to look past the mech. Dolby was making his way over. She held up her hand and tapped her palm, then brought them together as if praying, silently pleading for just a few minutes.

The human officer stopped, craned his neck to try to see, then waved his hand and turned back around. She at least had a few minutes. Kira placed her hand against the lip of the mech's deck, her fingers curling slightly to invite her charge on.

Dylan looked up at her, then tried to look around his own mech to see if anyone was watching, but Kira doubted he could see much. "We're alright," she said. "You need to say something. I'm listening."

He took the assurance, and hopped into her palm, their armors clattering together with the contact. She carefully lifted him up, bringing her palms together to give him more room to stance, and shifted on her knees to make sure the mech was mostly covering them from view. The lupari planted the end of her muzzle on her hands, as if she were about to blow flower petals away. "I don't…" He shook his head and planted his hand on her nose, rubbing her between the nostrils. "I don't fucking understand what you do to me. Why I talk so damn much about things I'd never tell anyone. I don't get how it seems to help so much. Whatever is happening, it got me here."

He tapped his chest, then half turned to gesture at his mech. "Power armor and giant robots… god damn, the kid in me is doing flips. I get to see you and…" He turned back around, turning his hand, chasing the world. "Interact with you, I guess, like it's real. I mean, it is. It is real now, not just the sims. It's really like I'm in a new body. I thought it would be heavy, slow, weird to control, but it's my body. A big, giant ass, robot. It's my body. Blows my fucking mind, Kira." Both of his hands pushed against the sides of her nose, and he looked straight down her muzzle at her big blue eyes. "It's thanks to you. Not just the robots and armor, I mean. You… dammit."

Her nostrils flared, trying to gleam more from him, but the armor was still interfering. She picked up enough to recognize he was feeling rather sad, while his face, with his furrowed brow, seemed to suggest he was confused, grasping for the right words. "Saved me, I guess?" he continued, shrugging. "I never wanted to remember that night again, I ran across the galaxy to get away from it. But then I tell you the whole goddamn thing. And it felt good. What the hell, right? I mean, it's shitty to think about it still, but I just feel… like it's going to be okay, I suppose."

Kira's tail was set into a slow wag, and she carefully nosed at his midsection, but he didn't seem finished. He quietly played at one of her whiskers, thinking, while she simply waited. "I don't know how much is real," he said. Kira's head slowly tilted, silently posing her question as to what he means. "I mean if you weren't here, if you left, would I be a mess again? I mean, this right now… it's not gonna last, you know. It can't. It's not that easy. It's not the end of bad days." He pulled on her muzzle, prompting her to pick it up and let him hug her nose against his chest. "But I guess it doesn't matter right now. We'll see how it goes. I'm just… I'm so glad you're my guardian."

Kira pushed gently against him, and brushed forward so the side of her muzzle rubbed along his form. The way he looked at her, she knew it was time to offer her own words. She picked her head up and raised him a bit more to get him back to eye level. "I couldn't be happier to have you as my charge, Dylan." She smiled, and her eyes darted aside. "The first time I learned about how intimate a guardian and charge relationship can get, I was so excited. Silly games, stunts of trust, those sorts of things. When I first saw you I was… a little disappointed, I can admit that. But, once I learned more… Well." She shrugged, looking back to him. "It's hard for a lupari to just leave someone hurting. I never thought I'd be able to help you this much, but it's been wonderful to see."

She fixed him with a sterner look, eyes narrowing slightly. "But, you need to be strong, you need to face your haunts and be willing to take help from others, if I'm not here. And that could happen. I was told Maduk was looking around about transfers. He might try something, and maybe he'll succeed. Maybe not. If he does, and we can't be a pair, then it'll be okay. You'll keep yourself together, I'm certain of it. We'll keep in touch, and I'll want to hear all about how you're doing well."

Dylan laughed and patted her thumb. "I'll try. Fucking Maduk… I won't let him catch me off though. It's kinda personal by now."

Kira flicked her ear. "You always become so strong when you get pushed." She thought about that night she found him trying to fight off Trikil. That image never quite left her, even after the fury that turned onto that falashai.

"Maybe. I try." He shook his head and waved his hand, telling her he had something else he wanted to talk about. "Anyway, we gotta get back to the training. Put me back-"

"What the blasted hell is this?!" Kira nearly jumped in surprise, her hands closing to make sure she didn't end up tossing her charge. She hastily placed him down onto his mech's deck and jumped up to her paws, snapping to attention as Dolby trudged towards her, Fahne right behind.

"Apologies, sir, we-"

He shoved right past her, dragging her arm to turn her around. "You brought fucking lizards?"

Kira's face fell, mouth opening in surprise. Lieutenant Fletcher's mech, Maduk's escort, was approaching. Behind it, was a half dozen sissach soldiers. "Sissach, lieutenant." Maduk said, sounding frustratingly satisfied with himself. "Today was the start training with the new machines. Someone forgot to bring back sissach soldiers that were removed for the education period."

"Forgot my arse!" Dolby stepped in front of Fletcher's mech, looking eye to eye at each other, and jabbed his finger into the mech's chest. "You're here to damn well ruin everything. Who the bloody hell do you think you are?"

"Sir," Fletcher's voice spoke up, a slight quiver to it. "Please, calm down. This is important. Please."

The pleading in the man's voice gave the older officer pause, his finger lowering. "Yes, calm down, lieutenant," Maduk carried on. "It is important for sissach to also be a part of this training. You must train with them to learn to live with them, yes? Here they are. I do believe Private Ossala here was a part of this platoon."

Hearing her name, a dark green scaled sissach sheepishly stepped forward. Her green eyes were wide and darting around, while her fingers played at each other. She was chewing on her lower lip. The young sissach was barely old enough to have had her dorsal spikes to begin growing. She was a fresh recruit a few weeks ago, barely a few days in the unit before being suddenly shipped off to another one in anticipation of humans coming into the battalion. It was almost easy to forget her, she was so shy.

Dylan's mech stomped up next to Kira. She couldn't smell the humans, or see their faces, but both her charge and Dolby seemed to vent anger straight from their mech's vents. Kira could feel it as both machines stared down at the lithe sissach.

"Yes, yes… how can I do this?" Maduk went on. "Who gave me the authority? I have the authority to determine how to improve the integration. No sissach? A grave problem. I bring sissach to fix this."

"Bollocks!" Dolby roared and turned away. "You do NOT have this much power. There's no god damn way you can just bring soldiers from another unit! I'm calling the major."

"Do that. Hrm, this is the troublesome platoon. Perhaps another shall help. Specialist… Fastal was it? Yes. You join Ossala." Another sissach, this one a rust brown, a male with well formed ridges, stepped out of the group and lingered behind Ossala. Kira didn't recognize him. "This one is from supply, I believe. A volunteer! Very pleasing to find someone that saw how important this is." Fastal looked at the mechs, officers, and NCOs glaring at him, and promptly hung his head low, his hands folding over each other in front of him, trying to appear submissive in the face of not being wanted. Maduk pretended to not even notice the bubbling tension. "I look forward to the pilot retrieval practices. Enjoy." The mech turned to leave, its gaggle of sissach following close behind.

The dainty sissach, Ossala, stared up at Dylan's mech, her tail slowly swaying side to side. She smelled terrified, yet as fascinated as those twitchy, lizardly eyes could imply. Kira felt for Dylan's hand and grabbed the balled up fist it was making. She could feel it quivering, and she squeezed against it. After a few moments, it finally unclenched, opened up, and their hands slipped together.