There’s nothing like the sound of steam coursing through the pipes of her Machine, like blood through some great beast. Heat surrounded her, her split consciousness feeling both it and the breeze of the air outside, hearing both the steam and the blare of fans cooling the high precision equipment that surrounded her in the cramped box she was kept. Maeve was deep in the core of a great beast of a Machine: 100 tonnes and 25 feet tall, the Maveric stood on two thick legs with reverse jointed knees, too-thin arms hanging at its side with fingers scraping the ground. It wasn’t painted like so many other Machines - it’s gunmetal ‘hide’ dully reflecting the dim glow of twilight. 

Looked at from a distance, one would almost see the form of a disfigured human, save for the horrible mess of pipes ejaculating steam and smoke into the air just above where the neck would be. “Your water stores are 50% full - finish up quickly and come back,” came the harsh feminine voice through the radio built into the flat dark metal that pressed against Maeve’s face. 

Maeve grunted in response, a feat she was lauded for during training. The split-conscious effect of piloting a Machine renders most any control of the physical body near impossible, let alone the pitch black and too-cramped box the pilots are crammed into. Maeve was crammed into a block of metal, lights flashing just above her head showing critical parameters and a complex series of pulleys and keypads required to move the Maveric were by her outstretched arms and legs- though Maeve never touched any of those; she didn’t need to. 

A thick cord - the nerve-spike -  jutted from the back of Maeve’s cranium- just below where her head meets her spine. It stretches loosely from some place higher up in the Maveric, and it allows for split-conscious to occur: an effect where the psyche is able to perceive outside its body. Maeve held near perfect control of her Machine this way - from fine motor control to advanced aerial maneuvers. This also was something Maeve was lauded for: rare was someone who had such high compatibility with a Machine like the Maveric class, especially with so little body modifications. Unlike so many others with horribly disfigured limbs and heads cut near in half, Maeve only had her knees broken to be reverse jointed and her arms were only ‘slightly’ elongated; she still had a higher level of control than most other pilots. 

“Maeve, stop fucking around and get on with it already,” came the voice again - her handler - now slightly annoyed. Maeve grunted again and began to move; around her lay crumbling buildings: a small city on the fringes of Arstov land lay in ruins with Maveric at its center. Below her lay the remains of another Machine, slightly shorter than Maveric and painted pink. It was a bipedal type, like Maveric, but more conventional, allowing for the pilot to be less heavily modified and still retain control. That pink Machine was good- just not as good as Maeve and Maveric. The fight ended in seconds, with Maeve ramming the spike on Maveric’s fore-arm through the pilot-box of the other Machine, just above where its reactor was. Soon, a recovery team would be out to retrieve that core and any other undamaged parts where it would be repurposed into a Machine for another hopeful of the Arstov Guardians. 

Some mile into the city - what the pink Machine was trying to protect - was a large white compound. Only 10 feet tall but hundreds of feet long and wide, it stuck out like a sore thumb among the grey buildings and small skyscrapers of the outskirts city in which it resided. 

Pilots aren’t normally told the why they do what they do- but Maeve is special, and her handler found she had a higher focus and level of control when her missions were explained. This time, like all others, it was to defend her homeland. “There it is Maeve,” said the harsh feminine voice once more, “Destroy it quickly. Our scans show no traps are nearby, but be careful- there could be something hidden inside the compound.” Maeve grunted in response yet again.

She was told this was a research compound for the Opposition- a group of radical terrorists hellbent on destroying the peace and goodness of Arstov. Maveric reached the compound in seconds, destroying any buildings in its path and leaving massive 3-towed footprints in its wake. ‘These terrorists can barely afford any Machines - and those they could stand no chance against Maveric, especially with Me as the pilot! I’ll destroy this building quickly and get more praise!’ Maeve knew the dangers of overconfidence, but this was just her knowing how strong she was. 

There were no windows or doors on the white rectangle in front of Maeve, just a straight rectangle of white. Maeve was told prior to her operation that Arstov could have orbital bombed the entire city to glass, but sent Maveric as both a show of strength and mercy: an example of the power in the new Maveric class. ‘They don’t need an orbital strike, only a single Machine to deal with them. And that Machine is Me!’ Before the mission, Maeve was even told that of all the new Maveric pilots, she was specifically sought out for her restraint and high control- because she was special.

Maeve pulled up her arm and prepared to slam down into the building, but stopped and quickly jumped up and back some hundred feet. Suddenly, standing on top of the white slab of a building, was a Machine. “There it is Maeve. Looks like they have another Machine; must be some important place for the Opposition then, if they’re willing to scrap two Machines in its defense. I’ll get you the data in a second.” The Machine looked weird to Maeve: it was quadripedal - rare amongst Machines due to the horrific body modifications required to reach any semblance of split-conscious and compatibility, so much so that it was all but banned in Arstov. ‘Just like these terrorists, using such horrible technology! Don’t worry little one, I’ll put you out of your misery!’

But it wasn’t just its quadrupedal nature that was strange, it was the tail. The new Machine stood some 15 feet tall, but had over double that in length, most of that being a strange tail which swished behind the Machine, made of dull interconnected metal ‘V’s. It’s hull was strange too- it looked almost ancient. Myriad metal types were overlaying one another, all at different stages of rust or polish- like it had been repaired over the course of decades. Its legs were heavily retracted so its body was held close to the ground, and it had no head- ending off in a round curve just past its forelegs.

“There we go,” said Maeve’s handler a second later, “looks like they managed to hire some freelancer. This one goes by ‘Panther,’ and was used for a few years to secure mining locations for private corporations on other continents. Looks like it lost a fight against a fourth-gen 8 months ago and hasn’t been seen since. The reports say it was scrapped in the fight, and judging by its hull I’d say those aren’t too far off…” The handler trailed off for a second, and for the first time Maeve heard confusion from her. “Only thing is the tail… that’s new - or longer, at least. Be careful,” she commanded. Maeve grunted in reply, but wished she could laugh instead.

‘Oh please, careful against some junk? Like this scrap piloted by a barely-human could even scratch Maveric! The faster I kill it, the faster I destroy that building and all the terrorists inside, the more praise I’ll get!’ Maeve readied her arms for a spike straight to the pilot-box of the ‘Panther,’ and leaped towards the Machine standing atop the white complex.

The more body modifications one has, the slower they’ll be to respond to stimulus. It’s for that reason that, even if it would give Maeve more control, she still has her head fully intact; it’s for that reason that quadrupedal types were completely phased out; it’s for that reason that Maeve was shocked when the ‘Panther’ jumped up to meet Maveric in the air. It used its tail to spring off the ground below it, and curved itself to wrap just around the Maverics reach. Maveric stretched its arm outward to try and grab at the ‘Panther’s’ tail, but that too moved with unnatural quickness, retracting in and up, and slashing down at the elbow of Maveric’s outstretched arm. It sliced clean through.

Pain. The nerve-spike which connected Maeve to Maveric burned - scorched - in the back of her skull. Too many sensations were felt by her arm that was both there and not at the same time. Maeve couldn’t think for the confusion of sensation and pain being sent to her as her body began to spasm. Her mind began to break from the split-conscious before a bright red light illuminated the dark box where Maeve resided, and suddenly the nerve-spike cooled, and no more sensation could be felt from Maeve’s arm. The laser-knife installed in the Maveric rectified Maeve’s body to resemble the Maverics in microseconds, causing Maeve to lose her arm but retain her mind. ‘H-how did it..!’

“Jennifer.” Said a cold voice from outside the Maveric - almost sounding like it came from inside the ‘Panther’. ‘But that’s impossible. No way someone as modified as that can speak! They couldn’t be more special than me!’

“You can hear me in there, right?” Continued the voice, sounding of barely controlled rage, a forced calm. “The pilot you slaughtered back there while the city was evacuating - was being decimated. Her name was Jennifer.” This made no sense to Maeve, who was always told that it was impossible to maintain split-conscious and speak. But before Maeve could think any more on that, or on how this ‘Panther’ somehow outsped Maveric and dismembered her arm, the radio sounded. “Maeve, stop standing still and kill that Machine already. It surprised you, that’s all.” The Handler was viewing Maeve through satellite data, so couldn’t hear the ‘Panther’ speak.

‘Handler is right. It just surprised me. That voice must be some kind of speaker or something too. That’s all. And defending? Terrorists don’t defend! I’ll kill it right away and get so much praise for killing such a dangerous thing! Because I’m so perfect!’ Maeve reasoned, and jumped back. Maeve stood just before the white complex, facing the ‘Panther,’ about two hundred feet away. Its tail swished above it, constantly moving.

“Now, I’ll avenge her.” Said the cold voice, distinguishable even from the distance due to the enhanced senses gifted to Maeve through the split-conscious of the Maveric. Maeve rushed forward, keeping focus on the tail. ‘That’s its main weapon! Avenge her!? As if! Like some speaker could avenge anyone!’ Maeve got close, adrenaline and confidence coursing through her veins even despite the loss of her right arm.

Right as Maeve began to reach out her left arm for a grapple, she pulled back, converting her momentum upward and over the Machine, relying on the sudden change of attack to be too fast for the ‘Panther’ to account for. Once above, Maeve would stick out her left arm and elongate her piercer - a 20 foot retractable spike made for penetrating any type of armor - right into the  pilot-box of the ‘Panther.’

Instead, the ‘Panther’ moved backwards and sent its tail forwards- skewering Maveric, and Maeve. The split-conscious broke instantly, but instead of being Maeve, she was Maveric. Her view was a 360 degree globe, over a hundred feet in span, and she saw herself being impaled by the ‘Panther’s’ tail. She felt no pain, but slowly her vision was going dark. She couldn’t move her body. The tail retracted, and Maveric saw itself fall on the ground, single arm outstretched and legs still poised as if mid-jump. ‘B-but how? I’m supposed to be special…’ was Maveric’s last thought as its vision went pitch black, and its consciousness fully faded.

Epilogue

“Goddamnit! Stupid fucking kids!” Hailey shot up from her chair, throwing off her headset and turning away from her monitor. On it showed the proto-Maveric laying on the ground, the ‘Panther’ standing next to it, a large splotch of red coating its tail. 

“Calm down Hail, it’s not like we ever expected too much from that one, too self-confident.” Said Steve, sitting next to her and looking at his own screen. “Just means I get to send in mine now is all. Shame that quadriped will get away though; looks like an interesting specimen…” 

“Well that ‘specimen’ just killed a kid I wasted 3 years training. She was supposed to get me promoted! Now I’ll have to stay down here for who knows HOW long until the higher ups decide to trust me again!” Hailey paced back and forth the large room. She and Steve were assigned to destroy the Oppositions science center. Hailey thought it would be a good chance to try out her new pilot in a more advanced territory, Steve was there if Maeve got out of control or failed. 

“I will say, that was surprising though. I thought she’d go psycho and I’d have to send in one of my Advanced for her, she did well all things considered.” Steve began typing in the various codes necessary to launch the strike as the ‘Panther’ disappeared from their screens, jumping onto the base and then flinging itself off hundreds of feet into the distance.

“I’ll assign the satellites to follow that thing. Maybe it’ll lead us to one of their hidden bases.” Hailey sat back down, now recovered from the shock of losing Maeve.

“Doubtful. That one looks poised for stealth and speed. I imagine they have some depo to stash it in in the woods it’s running into as well… Atronoch will be there in a second to ruin the building now.” Steve said with feigned enthusiasm as, in a few seconds, the screens on their desks flashed all white, and then showed a hole spanning some 50 feet deep where once there was a pristine white rectangle surrounded by homes and streets, with only a single, small black box in its center, moving erratically. “Really, shame on them for making one of their bases in the middle of a town.”

“The city came after their lab Steve; idiot sympathisers. Anyway, I’ll go tell the boss about what happened. Guess we planned on losing the proto-Maveric here anyway. Just a shame we couldn’t keep the core.” And Hailey left, out the door of their small office, all grey carpets, white doors, and fluorescent lights. Steve sipped on a cup of coffee and began to play on his phone, the scene of a once bustling city on a vibrant landscape reduced to rubble still displayed on his monitor.