Becoming a Pilot
The girl collapsed the moment she returned from becoming a pilot.... "Well, Rabe."
Having named her Rabe himself and moved her to the sickbay, Hermann returned to his office. The computer monitor was filled with pop-up data transmitted from Rabe's Nexus. He brewed a cup of coffee and began slowly reviewing the data.
Knock knock.
"Hm?"
As he was deep in analysis, a sudden knock echoed. The door opened, and in walked the doctor who had been treating Rabe for the past two months. He hesitated for a moment before speaking to Hermann.
"Mr. Hermann, no matter how I think about it, this isn't right."
"What isn't?"
"That girl... Rabe. At this rate, her body will break down first. You plan to keep having her pilot the Nexus, don't you?"
Hermann glanced at him briefly before turning back to the monitor.
"It's what she wants. I didn't force her."
"But she's still just a child! She doesn't even know what she's doing."
"That would be an insult to the person herself. If someone else judges her own choice like that...."
Hermann trailed off, recalling Rabe's vacant eyes.
"Actually, maybe she doesn't think much at all. What others say probably means nothing to her."
"I think we need to stop her."
Hermann tilted his head toward the monitor at the doctor's words.
"Stop her?"
"We have to prevent her from piloting the Nexus, even by force. Look at this diagnostic chart—the basics like her circulatory system are already showing problems...."
The doctor held up his tablet, rattling off explanations. Hermann asked him,
"Do you think she'd listen if you or I tried to stop her?"
The attending physician flinched slightly. Over the past two months treating Rabe, he had watched her closest of all. He didn't know what she usually thought about.
No, he wasn't even sure if she thought at all. But one thing was crystal clear.
She treated the Nexus like it was her very self.
"...No. But...."
It's just stubbornness. Blind obsession without reason or logic.
Hermann gave a slight smile at that.
"The hot-blooded vigor of youth."
"Rabe isn't young; she's a child."
"Do you think because she's young, adults like us should guide her onto the 'right path'? That the road she's chosen is a childish mistake?"
"That's...."
She wants it herself. Desperately enough to stake her own life on it. How do you stop that? Would Rabe even regret her choice later?
The doctor, suddenly unsure, bowed his head. Seeing this, Hermann said,
"Still, you're right that leaving her like this will wreck her body first. We can't keep her out of the Nexus entirely, but we should help however we can."
"Yes, understood."
No matter how rationally a broker like him operated, he couldn't exclude basic human emotion. No one could watch a kid charge headlong into hell and do nothing.
Neural linking for the first time must've strained my head a bit. But now that I've done it once and adapted, it won't happen again.
I opened my eyes to find Hermann sitting beside the bed, chair pulled close.
"Are you going to collapse like this every time you sortie in the Nexus?"
"No. I've adapted. It was just a first-time mistake."
"Adaptation isn't the issue. Can you really tough it out just by 'adapting' when your body physically can't handle it?"
"That's not something I can control."
A surge of defiance welled up.
"If my body's the problem, why not just transplant my brain into the Nexus?"
The words slipped out half-jokingly in frustration. But Hermann's face hardened instantly.
"Do you really think that?"
"......"
"Your life as a human doesn't matter, so you're fine living forever inside that hunk of metal?"
I stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, then shook my head.
The mood had turned scary all of a sudden. Had I touched a nerve?
Holding my breath and watching his face, Hermann finally spoke.
"We're developing auxiliary devices. They'll be ready within a month. Until then, no sorties—stay here."
"Okay."
"We have simulators too, so practice controlling the Nexus. And even without piloting, there's plenty you can do. Try adapting to life as a human."
"...Okay."
Hermann finished speaking and stood. He glanced at my pursed lips, then left the room.
I stuck my tongue out at his retreating back.
I've finally felt what piloting a Nexus is like, and now he wants me to focus on other crap.
He probably acted like that because he'd never piloted one himself.
'He's an adult with plenty of influence without needing a Nexus.'
Without a Nexus, I'm no better than a corpse. Adapting to life as a corpse? What the hell does that even mean?
Besides the fantastic sensation of linking, there were endless reasons I wanted to pilot.
'Gotta follow the game's flow, and I need to do something useful....'
Anyway, the moment I could move, I headed straight for the mobile hangar.
Life as a human? Bullshit. This is all I'm doing!
Clunk!
Sss... haa.
The oil stench hit as I entered the hangar, my head swimming in pleasant haze.
'Time to sort the harvest.'
I eyed the storage module still tucked in the corner. All the parts I'd collected were piled inside.
With enough parts now, I could assemble my own Nexus for the foreseeable future.
Rumble.
I wheeled the IV stand toward the control panel on the upper gangway.
A Nexus's components break down into four main categories: frame, armor, armament, and system modules.
The frame determines booster thrust, endurance, and max weight capacity—making it the most crucial part. Just like the game title, Metal Frame.
Armor handles defense, as the name implies. Armament is self-explanatory.
System modules cover... everything else. Hacking, targeting, electronic warfare—a grab-bag of support modules.
'Let's see....'
The Nexus I was using had standard Integral Corp frame and armor. Balanced thrust and endurance, decently light weight.
'A heavy frame would suit my style better, but....'
I had no other frames or armor, so this would do. Time to pick matching armaments.
I dragged across the control panel, scanning my weapon stock.
'Three rifles, one SMG, two hand cannons, no melee weapons.'
Shoulder mounts: three missile pods, one sniper cannon.
FCS chips for targeting covered close, mid, long, and extreme ranges adequately.
'Got one electronic warfare support module to jam enemy targeting.'
Listing it out, a build direction crystallized in my mind.
'Can't fight too close, or too far. Mid-range flexible setup it is.'
Armaments locked in: hand cannons for close-to-mid coverage. Rifles had longer range but sucked up close. Mixing them would dilute firepower, and I hated handling that anyway.
Both arms get hand cannons.
'Close-to-mid covered....'
Needed something for long-range potshots. Sniper cannon on one shoulder first.
'Weight's tight....'
I grimaced at the simulation readout. To add the sniper, I'd have to drop an armament or swap to lighter armor. Hand cannons were the lightest weapons, no room there. No armor options either.
'Gotta ditch the sniper.'
Both shoulders get missile pods. Six-round rapid-fire long-range missiles.
'Perfect.'
I applied the simulation.
Thud—
Mechanical arms whirred to life, assembling per the sim. I watched eagerly, eyes gleaming.
'So that's how it works.'
Vrrr—
Bolts unscrewed in seconds, parts detached; arms meshed metal harmoniously.
How could Hermann not see the fun in this?