Brothers in Arms

The sound of clanging metal, the squeal of hydraulics, and the hum of welding torches filled the hangar bay of the ISS Forgehammer. The massive repair bay was alive with activity as engineers and technicians worked on an array of towering, robotic war machines, tuning them up for the next mission.

In one corner of the bay, two figures stood side by side, dwarfed by the massive Main Battle Mechanoid they were working on. Both men were big, tough, and covered in grease.

“I’m telling you,” Kade said, as he tightened a magnetic seal around the cables, “you’re not seeing the big picture, man. MBMs are meant to be fast and mobile. Frontline support means keeping up with the infantry, covering ground, and reacting in real time to changing conditions. Heavy Mechs can’t do that. You’re sitting back, waiting for a shot that may or may not ever come.”

Tian grunted as he hauled a massive piece of armour plating into position on the Mech’s shoulder. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He adjusted his grip on the armour plate, his biceps straining under the weight before finally slotting the piece into place. “Precision and firepower win battles, Kade. I’d rather have a few clean shots that take out key targets than dance around hoping I can hit something with a popgun.”

“Popgun? Really? And didn’t this ‘popgun’ save your ass last month when those raiders flanked us? I don't remember you complaining when my MBM punched through their line and gave your Heavy Mechs a chance to set up.”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks for the assist.” Tian lowered his platform to grab a fusion rod from the nearby toolkit. “But let’s be real—your MBM was barely keeping it together by the end of that. If I hadn’t landed those shots from the ridge, you’d be scrap metal, buddy.”

The two of them shared a chuckle. This debate was never ending. They were brothers in every sense of the word, except when it came to which Mech was best.

“Alright,” Tian said as he wiped his hands on a rag, “What about urban combat? Tight corners, close quarters, limited manoeuvrability. You’re telling me speed’s going to help you in a scenario like that?”

“Are you kidding me?” Kade rolled his eyes. “Urban combat is exactly where speed is needed. You need something that can dart between cover and reposition on the fly. Heavy Mechs are sitting ducks in that kind of terrain. They’re too bulky, too slow to react. You might get one or two shots off, but if the enemy knows what they’re doing, you’re toast.”

“Toast, huh?” Tian scoffed, stepping back up onto the service platform to fuse the armour plate he’d just installed. “And while you’re playing hopscotch, and tag, and hide and seek, I’ll be levelling whole blocks, taking out enemy strongpoints from a distance. You see an MBM running circles around you? Just aim where it’s going and pull the trigger. Boom—problem solved.”

Kade shook his head, laughing. “Look, man, I get it—heavy firepower is great and all, but it’s only useful if you can survive long enough to use it. MBMs are about staying alive. Tough enough to take a hit, fast enough to avoid getting pinned, and versatile enough to support infantry, provide cover fire, or take on aerial threats. What more do you want?”

“I want to obliterate the enemy!” Tian roared.

“Woo!” Kade joined in.

A few of the others threw them looks. Most just smirked.

Tian was in full flow. “You and your MBM squad might get the glory of leading the charge, but when it comes down to who wins the battle, it’s the Heavy Mechs that deliver the final blow. You take out key infrastructure, fortified positions, even enemy Mechs from miles away. It’s all about precision, man. Efficiency. You don’t need to rush in when you’ve got firepower like that.”

“All I’m saying,” Kade countered, “is that Heavy Mechs have limits. They’re situational. If you need to hit a target from far away, great. But most combat situations aren’t going to give you that luxury. You need adaptability.”

Tian saw his target, and fired. “Oh? You’re talking about limits? So you mean the Trailblazer then.”

Kade’s expression froze, teeth clamped, fists clenched. “No,” he said. “I don’t mean the Trailblazer. That legend of a ship. That piece of beauty which redefined what it means to be a Jump Ship.”

“Was, Kade. Was a legend. Before it got decommissioned because it couldn’t keep up with the advancements in modern tech. I’m just saying, your love for old tech is blinding you to reality. The Trailblazer is obsolete.”

“How can you call a ship that broke every Jump Ship record in its day obsolete!” Kade knew that Tian was hoping for this exact reaction, but still, he couldn’t help it. He started listing. “Smooth jumps, incredible load capacity, no-nonsense frame. Sure, newer ships have come along, but they owe their very existence to the Trailblazer.”

Tian shook his head. “Nostalgia talking. You want a real Jump Ship? Ulysses. Now that was a ship with muscle. Triple-layered hull armour, redundant FTL cores, and could carry an entire battalion’s worth of Mechs. It could take a beating and keep going.”

Kade lifted his eyebrows. “Oh yeah? Remind me, how Ulysses is doing now? What was it—massive hull damage, half its crew in med bays, and parked indefinitely for repairs that might never happen.”

Tian leaned in to whisper, “And it’s still in service.”

Kade threw up his arms. “You only like the Ulysses because it’s big and tough, but it’s got no finesse, no elegance. You don’t retire a ship like the Trailblazer because it’s outdated, you retire it because it did its job so well it didn’t need to do it anymore.”

“Alright. Alright. Trailblazer did its time, I’ll give you that. But Ulysses? That ship could’ve handled anything. If it weren’t for that ambush, it’d still be top dog.”

Kade was about to retort when a sudden voice rang out from across the hangar bay.

“Captain on deck!”

Both men stopped what they were doing to turn toward the main entry. A group of junior officers stood at attention, and between them walked Captain Aisha Reynold, the commanding officer of the Maya, the newest and most advanced ship in the fleet. She was a small woman, but she carried herself with the authority of someone who had seen more battles than she cared to remember. In one hand, she held a tablet, her eyes scanning reports, while her other hand clutched a cup of steaming tea.

Captain Reynolds barely glanced up as she strode past, her attention fully focused on the report she was reviewing. She was known for her sharp mind and no-nonsense attitude, and it was clear to everyone in the bay that she was not to be disturbed.

Kade and Tian snapped to attention, their hands flying to their foreheads in crisp salutes. They stood rigid as she passed by, and then exchanged wide-eyed glances. It was Aisha Reynolds!

“She’s something else, huh?” Kade said, once she was gone.

Tian nodded in reverence. “Oh yeah. And that ship of hers? The Maya? Now there’s a Jump Ship.”

Kade couldn’t help but smile. “Finally! Something we agree on.”