BLOOD IN THE COCKPIT [2/23]
TITLE Blood in the Cockpit [PART ONE: 2/23]
SUMMARY Young pilot-in-training Choi Minho must overcome the shadow of a tragic war hero while walking in her footsteps and find what makes him himself, distinguishable, from the woman who saved his life. Taemin, a budding mechanic, must overcome the anomaly of his existence in order to realize that the truth is as simple as it is complex and find what makes him himself, indistinguishable, from the tantamount nature of humanity. (Full summary here.)
CHARACTERS/PAIRINGS [SHINee] Minho/Taemin. (DBSK, (f(x), Kara, GOT7, 2PM & etc cameos)
RATING/WARNING PG-13. Mild violence, mild profanity, blood
GENRE Sci-fi Mecha!AU
AN: I went ape shit listening to classical music while I wrote this. It was a lot of fun. :3
B L O O D in the C O C K P I T
Chapter Two: { Die Fledermaus: Overture } - Johann Strauss II
The first thing he felt was pain. Agony in torrents shooting down his spine and further, towards an appendage he no longer owned. Adrenaline surged from his chest, forcing his heart to start beating again. Technically, he had been dead for nearly ten minutes.
Technically, he wasn't even supposed to be alive.
Amidst the salty wetness blurring his vision, Minho could barely register what was happening to him. What had happened to him. Undulating voices broke the calm as his skin was pricked with a needle at the bend of his elbow, patted, and left there.
"... sedatives at ..."
"Doctor... new leg..."
"... at this point... impossible..."
His earliest memory had been pain, panic, and fear. He'd fallen asleep believing he'd already died and this was going to be his hell.
When Minho next woke nearly a week had passed. The pain was still there, but had immensely subsided. His empty left leg gave him a phantom ache and threatened to bring tears welling back into his eyes. He couldn't remember how he got here, why he was here. He couldn't even remember who he was.
"Ah, you're awake." A nurse entered the room, offering him a comforting smile. "How are you feeling?"
Minho stared at her, brows furrowed. How could she ask him such a question? He had no answer, no; he had too many. Confused, hurting, and lost.
"It's okay," The nurse checked his vitals and retained her calming demeanor. "You've been through quite a shock. But it would greatly help me if you could possibly tell me your name and how old you are?"
Minho stared at her some more, wondering if he stayed silent she would only ask more questions. He decided to answer her. "I don't know. I don't remember."
"That's also normal." The nurse sat on the stool beside his bed, still smiling serenely. Minho was far from comforted. "I know you're probably scared." She said, skimming through the data on her tablet. "But I can promise you you're going to be okay. We're going to take good care of you. You were rescued off a civilian ship caught in Ragnim crossfire. Pilot Soojin of Alainya'ahn saved your life. You were wearing a tag when we recovered you. Your name is Choi Minho and you are twelve years old."
Minho's lifeless gaze turned down to his lap.
"As for your leg," The nurse continued, perspicacious, "We can fix that. When you're feeling ready, we'll have you fitted for a prosthetic. Once the base is installed and its connected, you'll be on your feet in no time like nothing ever happened. Don't worry, it'll be a breeze.
"Well," She got to her feet when Minho didn't respond. "Are you hungry? I'll bring you some food. My name is Ga-in, by the way. I'll be your nurse and physical therapist while you recover, so I hope we can get along." She offered him the same pleasant smile she had appeared with and left him alone again in the stark whites and light blues of the medical room.
That had been week one of his new life.
Nurse Ga-in had lied about the prosthetic. It was equal to the agony of losing his leg; having the metallic bonds severed and reattached to his nerves, the cold wire encircling the stub of his thigh. For weeks just wriggling his toes felt like being stabbed over and over again. It took him four months to be able to stand, and another two before he could walk without crutches.
Minho was twelve when he lost his life and his leg and regained both. By the time he had fully healed and come into his prosthetic, he'd already needed a re-fitting.
Pain was something Minho had quickly learned to get used to. Pain had become a part of his everyday life.
That had been six years ago, when the alien Ragnim had attacked a civilian ship coming from the lunar colony; heedless of the innocent lives foolishly hoping to survive such dangerous space.
Since then, fragments of Minho's memories had returned. Nothing coherent enough to help him remember who he was, remember his parents or family. All he had was pent up anger left to him by the pain that navigated his life and his hatred for the Ragnim who had done this to him.
Station Administrator Kwan Lim had been the one to send Minho downwell and enrolled him in the Magnet school's Station Mandate course. He'd told Minho, "If you hate them so much, then fight them."
That had been then, but this is now. Minho is seventeen, soon to be eighteen, and five years in military academy had shaped him into a better person than the boy he was could have ever dreamed to be. Discipline gave way to meditation; a way to manage his chronic pain. His focus and determination motivated him and with the power in his left leg he was a force to be reckoned with by any challengers of the PIT.
He was still surprised when he learned he was a prime candidate for the pilot track. "You've proven yourself to be capable, diligent, and stable. Stick to it and you'll be a pilot in no time."
Jonghyun had clapped him on the back and said "Welcome to the club," when he'd shyly admitted he'd joined his track. Then he boldly made Jonghyun swear the whole ordeal to secrecy.
Minho didn't like to stand out. He didn't want people knowing about his left leg. On earth, only the Headmaster, his doctor, and Jonghyun knew about it. No one else needed to know.
Just like no one, not one soul besides his own, if his hadn't fled him where he should have died six years ago, needed to know that the only reason he cared to keep on existing was to wipe out the Ragnim who destroyed his life, his family, and his savior--who destroyed so many of the people who had taken him under their wing and raised him to be the young man he is today.
Minho will accept nothing less than to pass the graduate exams and become a PIT aboard Station Ahm. He's ready for it; he's been ready for it. But the pilot test is still a few days off and today, the start of the aptitudes, came the first: mechanical.
"What are you doing up so early?" Minho's roommate grumps at him, eyes bleary. "I know you're not on the mechanic track."
"Yeah, but there's someone I--" Minho stops himself. He and Kim Kibum are close, but not close enough to share such personal information; especially knowing Kibum's the type who won’t go out of his way to contain juicy gossip--of which he is a hoarder. "I want to see all the tests." He amends lamely.
"Don't waste your time." Kibum sits up, more alert. "You should be studying. You never told me what track you're on, by the way. I'm thinking you should spill."
Minho's already half-way dressed in their military uniforms. He's got his slacks on, his crisp white shirt, and he's shrugging on the heavy coat when Kibum throws his legs over the bed and gets up to do the same. "Honestly." Kibum goes on at Minho's refusal to answer him. "I already know. I'm not stupid."
"You never told me what track you're on either." Minho replies, and whether or not Kibum's bluffing is a mystery to him--as is his track.
"Isn't that how secrets work?" Kibum shoots back at him, stepping into his trousers. "You and I seem to be good at keeping them. The only difference is that I'm also good at reading between the lines."
A dredge of discomfort sinks in Minho's chest. "Why are you getting dressed?"
"I'm coming with you." Kibum announces. "I, too, don't feel the need to study. My examination's been happening for awhile, now."
Perplexed but too hungry to care, Minho follows Kibum out of the dorm and to the canteen to snag a quick breakfast. There they meet Lee Jinki, one of the mechanical track students, doing some last minute preparations. Jinki looks up at them in confusion. "Other tracks have the day off to study?"
"Hmmm," Kibum hums in acquittal, sitting beside Jinki. "We're here to watch you fail."
"Thanks." Jinki elbows him in the side, knowing Kibum's joking. Jinki is one of the top mechanical track students in Station Mandate--if not the top.
Minho sits across from them, practically inhaling his food. He manages around a mouthful of toast, "What's the mechanical exam gonna be like?"
Jinki offers him a nervous grin, collecting his schematics and tucking them into the folder behind his tablet. "You'll just have to watch and see."
Minho and Kibum hadn't been the only Station Mandate students with the inclination to watch the exam. Even students from other courses had filled the practice field's bleachers and it was only thanks to Kibum's cunning and social prowess that they found themselves seats in the front row.
Six SR units sat about ten meters apart from each other in extreme disrepair; Minho recognizes one he'd had a hand in helping to destroy during a tournament battle that had gotten out of hand. He'd been a little reckless and his competitive streak had escaped him after his opponent stooped to taunting.
It's strange to see that all the SR’s present had been repaired and damaged again so that they were identical. A forcenet raises to separate the noise of the audience from the examinees and within the dome of the practice fields all grew quiet.
Taemin and Head Mechanic Jung Yunho exit from the mezzanine entrance followed by the six students, Jinki among them.
They exchange a few words before Taemin trots over to the simulation panel and Yunho paces the line of examinees, prepping them for their test.
"Each of you will be timed on your repairs, monitored on the access points used, and judged for the quality of work done. It is highly probable and should be expected that some of the maintenance will cause the electromagnetic fields of the SR to fluctuate and even allow the machines to move. That is why I am to overlook your progress while my assistant ensures their engines do not overheat. You will have one hour to repair the SR. Go to your machines by number."
Once all the students are stationed in front of the mech, tools on the tables resting beside them, Yunho announces that they may begin and the timer starts.
Minho notices immediately when Jinki, working on machine four, begins with the engine. He doesn't miss the approval Yunho marks down before moving on to the next student.
It's not until half past the hour that something goes wrong. Machine three and the mechanic on it, trying at the engine with some nervousness, springs a pressure valve loose. Several things happen at once. The already poorly contained magnetic field begins to fail, extruding a shockwave and shoving the student backwards. Worried audience members get to their feet in fright. Yunho moves to assist the mechanic who had been thrown, unaware that the machine had started up on its own. Taemin, shutting down the simulations, shoves the holoscreen aside. When Minho glances up to the widescreen showing what Taemin's computer had shown, he sees that heat failure had occurred and not even engine overrides could remedy that.
Like static before a strike of lighting, panic fills the air. Taemin makes across the field on light feet, yelling, "Move out of the way!" to anyone who would hear. He climbs the now standing machine, dodging the repaired arms swinging about dangerously, pops the helm open and slides inside.
"Get out! What are you doing!" Shouts a student a couple rows behind Minho, uselessly. The widescreen for machine three is entirely red: all systems failure. Its explosion was imminent.
Taemin's figure disappears as he manually closes the helm despite the head mechanic's frantic warnings, where he's dragging the injured student away with the other examinees hot on his trail.
Then the machine takes two steps backwards, turns on its side, and falls hard onto the ground. A whoosh of breathless silence falls over the audience.
Thirty seconds pass in this manner and nothing explodes. The readings for machine three settle, and the engine shuts off.
The cockpit door is kicked open and Taemin rolls out, clutching at his shoulder and getting to his feet with a wince.
The head mechanic rushes over to him. "That was foolish." He says in a harsh whisper. "You'll be reprimanded later."
But the audience is cheering, delighted, and the other mechanics on the field all sport expressions flooded with relief.
Medical rushes in and attends Taemin and the fallen and failed student, the timer is set back five minutes, and the test resumes without any more incident.
It's clear to everyone watching who had passed and who hadn't, and when the scoreboards post their grades Jinki is the only one with a near perfect mark.
Taemin is in trouble. After the stunt he pulled during the testing, he had earned himself the shameful distaste of Head Mechanic Yunho and the professors present and was currently being berated.
"What you did was reckless. Just because you succeeded in shutting the machine down doesn't mean we can overlook this breach of protocol."
Taemin twists his hands in his lap to quell his anger. "If I hadn't, SR eight would have exploded. I wasn't the only one in danger."
"Yes," Says S.A.A. Jaejoong complacently, "The data did allude to a system heating failure, and with the magnetic field down it would not have been controlled. I must ask who did the pre-testing checks of the machines to miss something so imperative?”
“I'll have a word with him.” The Headmaster sighs. “Something like this could have been avoided in the first place, and for that, I apologize.”
"Regardless!" Exclaims the Vice Principal, put off. "He could have incited the process!"
Yunho, who hadn't spoken and was also facing punishment himself, did so now with a weary glance at Taemin. "Let's be honest here. What he did was dangerous, true, but he saved several lives. There would have been no time for anyone to clear the necessary radius." Surprising, coming from someone who had slapped Taemin in the face in the privacy of their barracks and warned him never to try something so reckless again.
S.A.A. Jaejoong sits up from his repose in the chair he occupies at the head of the table, as the highest command present. "What I'd like to know," he says, sloe-eyed gaze landing on a reticent Taemin. "Is how a mechanic who's never piloted a mech was capable of not only that but manually overriding and somehow tricking the machine into believing its engine failure was false in order to shut it off."
Yunho glares somewhere off to the side. Taemin refuses to answer. How could he? They wouldn't understand.
"As it stands," He continues cooly, "and begging your cooperation and understanding, Headmaster, but Taemin is not a student in your school. He falls directly under my jurisdiction. I don't think he's done anything wrong. In fact, he's been rather heroic. And I'm sure the earful Head Mechanic Yunho gave him earlier was proper chastising enough."
The Headmaster made to protest, "But--"
"Enough!" Jaejoong repeats, slapping a hand on the table. "I want the mechanics who started this mess removed. With that, this counsel is dismissed."
Once they've cleared the room, Taemin tries to skate away but Yunho catches him, cuffing him on the ear. "Law low, brat." He warns, "You're lucky S.A.A. Jaejoong doesn't care for troublesome things."
"Yes sir." Taemin replies bitterly.
Yunho release his pinch on Taemin's ear. "How's your shoulder? It was dislocated, wasn't it? It'll be a few days before you can use it properly."
"I know." Taemin ducks his head and escapes when Yunho waves his hand in a gesture of dismissal.
"That was a close one, mechanic." Station chimes in his ear; the first he'd heard from it since arriving downwell. Station Ahm, like all other stations of its capacity, was operated by an AI; and Taemin, like all other citizens living on a station, had been chipped with the implants necessary for Station to have an intimate view of who he was, what he did, and, though it could be switched off, the ability to converse. "Although I must say I agree with S.A.A. Jaejoong. You did the right thing."
Taemin replies with the twitch of his fingers, not speaking aloud. "Thank you, Station." He says, with some doubt as to the Station Administration Assistant’s actual opinion of the matter.
Station picks up on this. "He did mean it." It informs him.
"Tell me, Station," Taemin decides to change the subject. He walks down the concourse dividing Station Mandate's pretentious courtyard, "What can you see of earth?"
Station's reply is immediate and forthcoming. Taemin has been to several other stations and to the lunar colony, all facilitated by AIs, all of which sported entirely different personalities. Some liked you, some didn't. The ways they would show it would be subtle, such as making life a mite more difficult or withholding information unless specifically asked. Luckily, Taemin had been friendly with Station Ahm since he was a child. "I have access to dozens of satellites. The data I receive is not something human eyes can interpret. You're wondering if I can see earth the way you do?"
"Yes."
"I can." says Station. "I can see it through your eyes."
"What do you think?" asks Taemin, scanning the gardens he stood within.
"I think you are asking that question of yourself, mechanic." Station replies. "But I can answer it if you like."
"No, thank you, Station." Taemin knows Station is right, and it makes him uncomfortable. This planet makes him uncomfortable. He should find it beautiful, even shocking--but seeing it from the station made it seem much more like the gem everyone praised it to be.
previous | next
SUMMARY Young pilot-in-training Choi Minho must overcome the shadow of a tragic war hero while walking in her footsteps and find what makes him himself, distinguishable, from the woman who saved his life. Taemin, a budding mechanic, must overcome the anomaly of his existence in order to realize that the truth is as simple as it is complex and find what makes him himself, indistinguishable, from the tantamount nature of humanity. (Full summary here.)
CHARACTERS/PAIRINGS [SHINee] Minho/Taemin. (DBSK, (f(x), Kara, GOT7, 2PM & etc cameos)
RATING/WARNING PG-13. Mild violence, mild profanity, blood
GENRE Sci-fi Mecha!AU
AN: I went ape shit listening to classical music while I wrote this. It was a lot of fun. :3
B L O O D in the C O C K P I T
Chapter Two: { Die Fledermaus: Overture } - Johann Strauss II
The first thing he felt was pain. Agony in torrents shooting down his spine and further, towards an appendage he no longer owned. Adrenaline surged from his chest, forcing his heart to start beating again. Technically, he had been dead for nearly ten minutes.
Technically, he wasn't even supposed to be alive.
Amidst the salty wetness blurring his vision, Minho could barely register what was happening to him. What had happened to him. Undulating voices broke the calm as his skin was pricked with a needle at the bend of his elbow, patted, and left there.
"... sedatives at ..."
"Doctor... new leg..."
"... at this point... impossible..."
His earliest memory had been pain, panic, and fear. He'd fallen asleep believing he'd already died and this was going to be his hell.
When Minho next woke nearly a week had passed. The pain was still there, but had immensely subsided. His empty left leg gave him a phantom ache and threatened to bring tears welling back into his eyes. He couldn't remember how he got here, why he was here. He couldn't even remember who he was.
"Ah, you're awake." A nurse entered the room, offering him a comforting smile. "How are you feeling?"
Minho stared at her, brows furrowed. How could she ask him such a question? He had no answer, no; he had too many. Confused, hurting, and lost.
"It's okay," The nurse checked his vitals and retained her calming demeanor. "You've been through quite a shock. But it would greatly help me if you could possibly tell me your name and how old you are?"
Minho stared at her some more, wondering if he stayed silent she would only ask more questions. He decided to answer her. "I don't know. I don't remember."
"That's also normal." The nurse sat on the stool beside his bed, still smiling serenely. Minho was far from comforted. "I know you're probably scared." She said, skimming through the data on her tablet. "But I can promise you you're going to be okay. We're going to take good care of you. You were rescued off a civilian ship caught in Ragnim crossfire. Pilot Soojin of Alainya'ahn saved your life. You were wearing a tag when we recovered you. Your name is Choi Minho and you are twelve years old."
Minho's lifeless gaze turned down to his lap.
"As for your leg," The nurse continued, perspicacious, "We can fix that. When you're feeling ready, we'll have you fitted for a prosthetic. Once the base is installed and its connected, you'll be on your feet in no time like nothing ever happened. Don't worry, it'll be a breeze.
"Well," She got to her feet when Minho didn't respond. "Are you hungry? I'll bring you some food. My name is Ga-in, by the way. I'll be your nurse and physical therapist while you recover, so I hope we can get along." She offered him the same pleasant smile she had appeared with and left him alone again in the stark whites and light blues of the medical room.
That had been week one of his new life.
Nurse Ga-in had lied about the prosthetic. It was equal to the agony of losing his leg; having the metallic bonds severed and reattached to his nerves, the cold wire encircling the stub of his thigh. For weeks just wriggling his toes felt like being stabbed over and over again. It took him four months to be able to stand, and another two before he could walk without crutches.
Minho was twelve when he lost his life and his leg and regained both. By the time he had fully healed and come into his prosthetic, he'd already needed a re-fitting.
Pain was something Minho had quickly learned to get used to. Pain had become a part of his everyday life.
That had been six years ago, when the alien Ragnim had attacked a civilian ship coming from the lunar colony; heedless of the innocent lives foolishly hoping to survive such dangerous space.
Since then, fragments of Minho's memories had returned. Nothing coherent enough to help him remember who he was, remember his parents or family. All he had was pent up anger left to him by the pain that navigated his life and his hatred for the Ragnim who had done this to him.
Station Administrator Kwan Lim had been the one to send Minho downwell and enrolled him in the Magnet school's Station Mandate course. He'd told Minho, "If you hate them so much, then fight them."
That had been then, but this is now. Minho is seventeen, soon to be eighteen, and five years in military academy had shaped him into a better person than the boy he was could have ever dreamed to be. Discipline gave way to meditation; a way to manage his chronic pain. His focus and determination motivated him and with the power in his left leg he was a force to be reckoned with by any challengers of the PIT.
He was still surprised when he learned he was a prime candidate for the pilot track. "You've proven yourself to be capable, diligent, and stable. Stick to it and you'll be a pilot in no time."
Jonghyun had clapped him on the back and said "Welcome to the club," when he'd shyly admitted he'd joined his track. Then he boldly made Jonghyun swear the whole ordeal to secrecy.
Minho didn't like to stand out. He didn't want people knowing about his left leg. On earth, only the Headmaster, his doctor, and Jonghyun knew about it. No one else needed to know.
Just like no one, not one soul besides his own, if his hadn't fled him where he should have died six years ago, needed to know that the only reason he cared to keep on existing was to wipe out the Ragnim who destroyed his life, his family, and his savior--who destroyed so many of the people who had taken him under their wing and raised him to be the young man he is today.
Minho will accept nothing less than to pass the graduate exams and become a PIT aboard Station Ahm. He's ready for it; he's been ready for it. But the pilot test is still a few days off and today, the start of the aptitudes, came the first: mechanical.
"What are you doing up so early?" Minho's roommate grumps at him, eyes bleary. "I know you're not on the mechanic track."
"Yeah, but there's someone I--" Minho stops himself. He and Kim Kibum are close, but not close enough to share such personal information; especially knowing Kibum's the type who won’t go out of his way to contain juicy gossip--of which he is a hoarder. "I want to see all the tests." He amends lamely.
"Don't waste your time." Kibum sits up, more alert. "You should be studying. You never told me what track you're on, by the way. I'm thinking you should spill."
Minho's already half-way dressed in their military uniforms. He's got his slacks on, his crisp white shirt, and he's shrugging on the heavy coat when Kibum throws his legs over the bed and gets up to do the same. "Honestly." Kibum goes on at Minho's refusal to answer him. "I already know. I'm not stupid."
"You never told me what track you're on either." Minho replies, and whether or not Kibum's bluffing is a mystery to him--as is his track.
"Isn't that how secrets work?" Kibum shoots back at him, stepping into his trousers. "You and I seem to be good at keeping them. The only difference is that I'm also good at reading between the lines."
A dredge of discomfort sinks in Minho's chest. "Why are you getting dressed?"
"I'm coming with you." Kibum announces. "I, too, don't feel the need to study. My examination's been happening for awhile, now."
Perplexed but too hungry to care, Minho follows Kibum out of the dorm and to the canteen to snag a quick breakfast. There they meet Lee Jinki, one of the mechanical track students, doing some last minute preparations. Jinki looks up at them in confusion. "Other tracks have the day off to study?"
"Hmmm," Kibum hums in acquittal, sitting beside Jinki. "We're here to watch you fail."
"Thanks." Jinki elbows him in the side, knowing Kibum's joking. Jinki is one of the top mechanical track students in Station Mandate--if not the top.
Minho sits across from them, practically inhaling his food. He manages around a mouthful of toast, "What's the mechanical exam gonna be like?"
Jinki offers him a nervous grin, collecting his schematics and tucking them into the folder behind his tablet. "You'll just have to watch and see."
Minho and Kibum hadn't been the only Station Mandate students with the inclination to watch the exam. Even students from other courses had filled the practice field's bleachers and it was only thanks to Kibum's cunning and social prowess that they found themselves seats in the front row.
Six SR units sat about ten meters apart from each other in extreme disrepair; Minho recognizes one he'd had a hand in helping to destroy during a tournament battle that had gotten out of hand. He'd been a little reckless and his competitive streak had escaped him after his opponent stooped to taunting.
It's strange to see that all the SR’s present had been repaired and damaged again so that they were identical. A forcenet raises to separate the noise of the audience from the examinees and within the dome of the practice fields all grew quiet.
Taemin and Head Mechanic Jung Yunho exit from the mezzanine entrance followed by the six students, Jinki among them.
They exchange a few words before Taemin trots over to the simulation panel and Yunho paces the line of examinees, prepping them for their test.
"Each of you will be timed on your repairs, monitored on the access points used, and judged for the quality of work done. It is highly probable and should be expected that some of the maintenance will cause the electromagnetic fields of the SR to fluctuate and even allow the machines to move. That is why I am to overlook your progress while my assistant ensures their engines do not overheat. You will have one hour to repair the SR. Go to your machines by number."
Once all the students are stationed in front of the mech, tools on the tables resting beside them, Yunho announces that they may begin and the timer starts.
Minho notices immediately when Jinki, working on machine four, begins with the engine. He doesn't miss the approval Yunho marks down before moving on to the next student.
It's not until half past the hour that something goes wrong. Machine three and the mechanic on it, trying at the engine with some nervousness, springs a pressure valve loose. Several things happen at once. The already poorly contained magnetic field begins to fail, extruding a shockwave and shoving the student backwards. Worried audience members get to their feet in fright. Yunho moves to assist the mechanic who had been thrown, unaware that the machine had started up on its own. Taemin, shutting down the simulations, shoves the holoscreen aside. When Minho glances up to the widescreen showing what Taemin's computer had shown, he sees that heat failure had occurred and not even engine overrides could remedy that.
Like static before a strike of lighting, panic fills the air. Taemin makes across the field on light feet, yelling, "Move out of the way!" to anyone who would hear. He climbs the now standing machine, dodging the repaired arms swinging about dangerously, pops the helm open and slides inside.
"Get out! What are you doing!" Shouts a student a couple rows behind Minho, uselessly. The widescreen for machine three is entirely red: all systems failure. Its explosion was imminent.
Taemin's figure disappears as he manually closes the helm despite the head mechanic's frantic warnings, where he's dragging the injured student away with the other examinees hot on his trail.
Then the machine takes two steps backwards, turns on its side, and falls hard onto the ground. A whoosh of breathless silence falls over the audience.
Thirty seconds pass in this manner and nothing explodes. The readings for machine three settle, and the engine shuts off.
The cockpit door is kicked open and Taemin rolls out, clutching at his shoulder and getting to his feet with a wince.
The head mechanic rushes over to him. "That was foolish." He says in a harsh whisper. "You'll be reprimanded later."
But the audience is cheering, delighted, and the other mechanics on the field all sport expressions flooded with relief.
Medical rushes in and attends Taemin and the fallen and failed student, the timer is set back five minutes, and the test resumes without any more incident.
It's clear to everyone watching who had passed and who hadn't, and when the scoreboards post their grades Jinki is the only one with a near perfect mark.
Taemin is in trouble. After the stunt he pulled during the testing, he had earned himself the shameful distaste of Head Mechanic Yunho and the professors present and was currently being berated.
"What you did was reckless. Just because you succeeded in shutting the machine down doesn't mean we can overlook this breach of protocol."
Taemin twists his hands in his lap to quell his anger. "If I hadn't, SR eight would have exploded. I wasn't the only one in danger."
"Yes," Says S.A.A. Jaejoong complacently, "The data did allude to a system heating failure, and with the magnetic field down it would not have been controlled. I must ask who did the pre-testing checks of the machines to miss something so imperative?”
“I'll have a word with him.” The Headmaster sighs. “Something like this could have been avoided in the first place, and for that, I apologize.”
"Regardless!" Exclaims the Vice Principal, put off. "He could have incited the process!"
Yunho, who hadn't spoken and was also facing punishment himself, did so now with a weary glance at Taemin. "Let's be honest here. What he did was dangerous, true, but he saved several lives. There would have been no time for anyone to clear the necessary radius." Surprising, coming from someone who had slapped Taemin in the face in the privacy of their barracks and warned him never to try something so reckless again.
S.A.A. Jaejoong sits up from his repose in the chair he occupies at the head of the table, as the highest command present. "What I'd like to know," he says, sloe-eyed gaze landing on a reticent Taemin. "Is how a mechanic who's never piloted a mech was capable of not only that but manually overriding and somehow tricking the machine into believing its engine failure was false in order to shut it off."
Yunho glares somewhere off to the side. Taemin refuses to answer. How could he? They wouldn't understand.
"As it stands," He continues cooly, "and begging your cooperation and understanding, Headmaster, but Taemin is not a student in your school. He falls directly under my jurisdiction. I don't think he's done anything wrong. In fact, he's been rather heroic. And I'm sure the earful Head Mechanic Yunho gave him earlier was proper chastising enough."
The Headmaster made to protest, "But--"
"Enough!" Jaejoong repeats, slapping a hand on the table. "I want the mechanics who started this mess removed. With that, this counsel is dismissed."
Once they've cleared the room, Taemin tries to skate away but Yunho catches him, cuffing him on the ear. "Law low, brat." He warns, "You're lucky S.A.A. Jaejoong doesn't care for troublesome things."
"Yes sir." Taemin replies bitterly.
Yunho release his pinch on Taemin's ear. "How's your shoulder? It was dislocated, wasn't it? It'll be a few days before you can use it properly."
"I know." Taemin ducks his head and escapes when Yunho waves his hand in a gesture of dismissal.
"That was a close one, mechanic." Station chimes in his ear; the first he'd heard from it since arriving downwell. Station Ahm, like all other stations of its capacity, was operated by an AI; and Taemin, like all other citizens living on a station, had been chipped with the implants necessary for Station to have an intimate view of who he was, what he did, and, though it could be switched off, the ability to converse. "Although I must say I agree with S.A.A. Jaejoong. You did the right thing."
Taemin replies with the twitch of his fingers, not speaking aloud. "Thank you, Station." He says, with some doubt as to the Station Administration Assistant’s actual opinion of the matter.
Station picks up on this. "He did mean it." It informs him.
"Tell me, Station," Taemin decides to change the subject. He walks down the concourse dividing Station Mandate's pretentious courtyard, "What can you see of earth?"
Station's reply is immediate and forthcoming. Taemin has been to several other stations and to the lunar colony, all facilitated by AIs, all of which sported entirely different personalities. Some liked you, some didn't. The ways they would show it would be subtle, such as making life a mite more difficult or withholding information unless specifically asked. Luckily, Taemin had been friendly with Station Ahm since he was a child. "I have access to dozens of satellites. The data I receive is not something human eyes can interpret. You're wondering if I can see earth the way you do?"
"Yes."
"I can." says Station. "I can see it through your eyes."
"What do you think?" asks Taemin, scanning the gardens he stood within.
"I think you are asking that question of yourself, mechanic." Station replies. "But I can answer it if you like."
"No, thank you, Station." Taemin knows Station is right, and it makes him uncomfortable. This planet makes him uncomfortable. He should find it beautiful, even shocking--but seeing it from the station made it seem much more like the gem everyone praised it to be.
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