Mech Pilot who is meeting their comms operator face to face for the first time.
Well shit. She's hotter than you expected.
"You're shorter than I expected," she says, giving you an appraising look in a voice you've heard a thousand times before. You stumble uncharacteristically—it's disarming to see a face attached to the voice. No other reason.
"I— You don't need to be tall. You just need to be good." It doesn't come out as confidently as you'd like.
"I'm sure," she replies, and you can't tell if that look in her eye is smug or playful. Maybe both. Maybe neither.
"So what brings you down to the bay?" you ask, looking to change the subject. "I don't remember you coming down here before?"
"Orders from on high. Top secret, apparently. Too secret for encrypted radio. You ready?"
"Sir yes sir," you reply instinctually. She smirks. Definitely smug. Maybe playful.
"Sir? Excuse me but I believe a lieutenant still outranks a specialist." Her voice is dripping with irony.
Shit. She's right of course. But you're so used to orders arriving in her voice. Even if those orders never technically come from her...hearing her activated something deeper than the consciousness. The same level of action all the best mech pilots operate at—and you're one of the best. At least, you think. You try to recover.
"Yes, of course Specialist. Go on."
She approaches you. Whispers a word in your ear. You don't hear it. You wake up in the cockpit, in the hangar.
"Excellent work Lieutenant, Command sends their regards." she says over the radio. "Report to the debriefing room. I'll meet you there in person."
