One of the armoured suits stepped forward and waved. The chest plates came apart to reveal Frost. “They're used up here mostly to load the cannons, but I'd hate to be a boarding crew trying to take this deck.”
She couldn't help but smile at him. He looked very pleased with himself. “Thought I'd take one for a walk before most of my gunnery crew arrived for their first day of training.”
“How are they checking out?”
“These machines are in great shape. Most of 'em were put in storage for near forty years. Just needed a recharge.”
“Not the armour, the crew.”
“Lots o' failed pilots, most of 'em qualified on cannons easy enough. We have enough mechanics, even a few who are trained on combat armour pretty close to what we have here. You did good.”
“I can't take the credit. The head hunter agency just went by your criteria.”
“Well, still. I've got enough to run a full gunnery crew, even after Captain told me to cherry pick eighty of my best for the heavy artillery. I just hope they can hit a target,” he undid the belts that kept him strapped in and started to step out of the tall suit.
His gunnery crew wore dark grey, centimetre thick vacsuits with extra tool pouches built onto their thighs. Only Frost and his second in command, who hadn't arrived yet, had a skull printed above the ship title on his chest. Everyone else in his gunnery crew only had Triton printed there and it would remain that way until he decided they were ready to be counted amongst the permanent crew. Five bars on his cuffs, slanted towards the backs of his hands marked him as the Gunnery Chief. “You're obnoxious enough to get them in shape,” she teased.
A few of the crew who were starting early, inspecting the suits laughed until Frost jerked his head in their direction. He looked back at her and winked. “Aye, my boys'll shred in time. Why don't you step up here and give the armour a try?” he invited, standing on one of the big grey and blue machine's boots. “It's part of the tour, y'know.”
She hesitated, looking at the hollow cavity inside.
“Come on, it's like wearin' a second skin once you're used to it. Only this big boy can lift a hundred tons like it's laundry.”
Stephanie shrugged and started taking off her combat boots. “May as well. Half my people are trained in one of these already.”
Frost raised an eyebrow.
“Don't even think of poaching them for your loading crew,” she cautioned. “I'll make it more trouble than it's worth.”
“Aye, aye, I'll keep my hands off your crew,” he said. “My boys'll move in these like they were born to 'em soon enough anyhow.”
She took her long coat then her gun belt off and put them on top of her boots. After looking at the machine for a moment, she stepped onto its foot, then its knee and grabbed a handle just under its left shoulder plate.
“Now take hold of one o' the arm sockets inside with one hand,” Frost instructed patiently.
Stephanie did.
“Now use it to steady yourself an' turn round.”
She followed his instructions carefully and found herself sitting on the bottom edge of its chest cavity. Taking the next logical step, she pulled herself up, drew her legs up to her chest and dropped down inside.
“Not the usual way of climbin' in, most people open up the bottom half of the chest.” Frost said with a shrug. “At least I know flexibility won't be a problem. Most loader operators get so bulky after a while from repetitive motion that they couldn't squirm inta a suit like you just did if they had ta.”
“Former child gymnast,” she reminded as she started fastening the restraints.
“Aye, you're in better shape than most on this boat. Anyhow, strap in tight and settle into the supports. They'll be loose until you get set.”
She could feel the supports around her legs, arms, up her back and pressed against them. He was right, they did start tightening up as she settled in. “How do I start it?”
“Push your hands all the way in and bring your arms up towards your head, pretend like you're touchin' your forehead. Before you do that, I should tell you-”
Stephanie extended her arms as far as they would go and the machine wrapped around them. She brought them up towards her face and by the time the hands touched its flat head the suit closed around her completely. The display had energy levels, her medical information, a full depiction of the area around her and a rear view below that. Her entire field of vision was covered so she didn't see the inside of the machine at all.
“Now move normal like, don't overcompensate or you'll lose balance or worse,” Frost instructed as he hurriedly ran backwards.
She instinctively took a step backwards and lost her balance. As she tried to step forward again she fell with an incredible crashing sound. “Wow,” she whispered to herself as she looked at the ceiling above.
“Okay, everyone falls the first time,” Frost reassured. “Now the key is to act normally, take it slow, as though you're real tired or favourin' sore muscles.”
Stephanie took a deep breath, tried to forget where she was and started to roll over. The suit cooperated for the most part, but her torso still didn't feel tightly supported. As she moved it showed, the armour didn't quite move with her. She ignored it and got the machine up on all fours.
“I wonder,” she whispered to herself. Stephanie pushed off with her hands and the machine straightened up effortlessly. “So I'll just pretend I'm in the best shape of my life,” she smiled, closing her eyes and standing up straight.
She was up on her feet and turned around in seconds. After making sure no one was in front of her she closed her eyes again and took several steps. The machine responded almost perfectly, there was a slight bounce in her step because she was being jostled up and down in her waist and chest harness, but she still felt steady and ended her walk by bringing her speed up to a run and dropping into a somersault.
The armour came up on its feet and almost carried on to fall on its face, but she caught herself just in time, dropping to one knee instead. She turned around and walked back to the rest of the suits, where her security people, the new gunnery crew and Frost watched from. “Our Chief of Security's first time in heavy armour, how about that?” he called out loudly, clapping his broad hands.
The rest of the crew, a couple hundred of whom had arrived in time to see her run and roll, joined in on the applause. She couldn't help but grin from ear to ear as she took an unsteady bow. “Now how do I get out of this thing?” she asked.
Laughter trickled through the crowd and Frost turned to them. “Ferrah, Gambon, break out the sim visors and pass 'em out. Get set in the Lost Fleet gunnery sim and I'll be there in ten. Anyone missin's bunkin' in the brig tonight!” he called out with a voice that echoed across the expansive gunnery deck.
Two gunnery crew members stepped out of the crowd, they had three slanted bars on their cuffs instead of one like the rest behind them. They activated a panel built into the deck and opened it to reveal portable seating and a case of training visors. The rest of the gunnery crew started pulling out folding chairs and setting them up in rows.
He walked up in front of her and made a motion like he was patting his head with both hands. “This'll get you out. If ye had your own armour ye could customize the trigger, but good luck on that. I think Wheeler sold all the suits not on the gunnery deck, even the spares.”
She followed his directions and the chest cavity opened up more completely than it had before, all the way down to her knees. “That was fun, I'm going to have to try some other time, but I didn't get the restraints right.”