#I'm feeling good about this one fellers

[hummingjay]

Check it out on Wattpad too. I'll also be posting it on AO3 if my account gets approved! Note: Rabengeiers belong to @sosadraws. Check her post out, it's real good.

Chapter 1

Magazin adjusted her hair, looking into the mirror. She kept it in a ponytail, which was hard at first, seeing as she has rather short hair, but eventually she asked a Eule to teach her how to put it up. The other starlings in the cadre teased her a bit, but she didn’t mind all too much. It was only friendly teasing, and her hair might as well be the only form of individuality she could get. All starlings had the same face, same body, and until a fair bit of time passed, the same personality, with few exceptions. It was rather pretty face, she had to admit, so she found it hard to complain, but still, it was nice to have something other than her designation to define her.

She washed her face, trying to wake up a bit more. She slept in this morning, so going to the cafeteria for coffee would hardly be possible with what time she had. Instead, she used the coldest water the sink would spout and thoroughly rinsed her face, hoping the cold fluid would help awaken her. Truth be told, refreshing as it was, she didn’t feel much better.

Magazin sighed and walked out the bathroom door, striding back into the STAR dorm for her gear. Most of the other starlings were already out and about, some at the cafeteria finishing breakfast, some already on patrol. She nodded at another tired looking starling, Clip, her name was, as she walked in. She just finished the night shift, and looked it too. Clip threw off her armor, tossing it to the side of her bunk, grunting a greeting. “Morning, Magz.”

“Long night?” Magazin asked.

“Every night.”

Clip flopped onto her bunk, tossing her blanket over her tall frame. Magazin knew she meant well, and was always tired in the morning. She’d be much more chipper in the evening, having slept.

Magazin picked up Clip’s discarded armor and hung it on its respective rack. The last thing she needed was another memo from their Adler or some other authority figure about the “near-hazardous living space of the Protektor force.”, as amusing as it was to see the resident Adler scrunch his face in disgust at the sight of empty cans and unmade beds, she’d rather not upset him. Besides, he was rather easy get along with. Though Magazin couldn’t remember his name for the life of her, she did remember a lengthy conversation about fountain pens, and he was much nicer than the other units make him sound.

She donned her own armor, picking her pistol from the safe. She loaded it, making sure the safety was on before she cocked and holstered it. It was protocol to fully unload the gun before putting it in the safe for curfew. Any incidents were severely punished, and rightly so. Getting accidentally shot by a friendly gun was never in anyone’s to-do list, not that getting shot at all was a great idea. After making sure her cap was on right, she headed out the door.

The familiar bustle of the Kitezh Supply and Communications facility, more officially called M-01 Möbius, was an odd yet present comfort. Armed gestalt soldiers quickly strolled through the halls, some wounded, others carrying large crates, presumably food supplies or ammunition. Storches passed the gestalts easily, their speed attributed to their natural longer strides. Every now and then she’d pass a fellow starling, either standing guard or walking to whatever job was tasked onto them. She wasn’t the most popular in the cadre but she certainly wasn’t unpopular either, so she gets nods and even a tip of a hat or two as she walks by.

Magazin eventually reaches her guard post, nodding at the tired-looking starling already standing guard. She gives Magazin a pat on the shoulder, walking towards the dorms.

Magazin stands guard, watching the corridor. It’s the same experience every day, soldiers and Eules and gestalt janitors and repair workers passing by. She didn’t mind, usually. The Eules always brought with them a sort of air of joy, always smiling, sometimes even laughing as they pass by. The gestalts tended to steer clear of her, which ultimately made sense. It was her job to keep them in line, and as a protektor who towered over them, she was intimidating and she knew it. Then of course there were the rabengeiers. Black Vultures. These replikas dealt with potentionally hazardous biowaste, and that meant bodies. And at M-01 Möbius, there were lots of bodies. Acting as one of the main relay points on the frontline, between imperial raids and being the point where bodies are kept before being shipped to whatever their home world is- or was, corpses were common at the facility. Rabengeiers were nice enough, but seeing someone cart a tarp-covered corpse while covered in their white and blue hazmat suits, red eye receptors glinting behind their goggles, it was hard not to be intimidated. On a good day they carted around an intact body under a tarp. On a bad one it was hard to tell the difference between a normal trash bag and whatever mess of limbs was inside the body bag. At least it would be if not for the blood that leaked into the pristine white table. Security was rough but Magazin did not envy them.

Above her, Magazin could hear noises in the ceiling. Not just footsteps from the upper floors, either. It was likely an Ara unit, maybe two, clambering from one end of the vent to the other. The clambering stopped not far from Magazins spot, while more noise furthered on. The vent creaked open, and an Ara unit popped out, upside down, grinning and using one hand to hold her hat to her head, even though she could have buckled it properly.

“Good morning, Magzie”

The Ara unit was at eye level, hanging from the vent. Magazin didn’t even have to look up.

“Kupfer.” She said, greeting her. “What’s today’s haul?”

Kupfer reached into her bag, which she kept firmly clipped onto her belt, pulling out a candy bar.

“Caramel this time.”

For reasons Magazin never did understand, Kupfer had taken a liking to her. An oddity, considering Aras are unsociable most times, and talking to them at all is rare since they’re in the vents the vast majority of the day.

Kupfer passed the bar over, the wrapper crinkling under her fingers. Kupfer was dating one of the kitchen Eules, a rather sweet one named Nelke who worked in the kitchens. She kept Kupfer well stocked with whatever leftovers were there.

Magazin unwrapped the bar, taking a bite. Caramel oozed from the inside of the bar and into her mouth.

“How’d you get your hands on this one?” Magazin asked, covering her mouth with one hand. “The caramels always get sold out so fast.”

“Nelke saved them for me.” Kupfer pulled out her own candy bar and took a bite. How she was comfortable eating upside down was a mystery to her. Kupfer finished the bar in two bites, wiping her mouth with her hand. She managed to wipe away a chocolate crumb and smudge the soot covering her face. For some reason the Ara unit always had soot or some other mechanical excrete on her face. Sometimes oil, sometimes even sawdust, though Aras aren’t even meant to work with wood. Try as Magazin might, Nelke was the only one who could get Kupfer to clean her face off.

“She told me to bring one for you too.”

“That’s really nice of her. I didn’t know she knew about me.”

“Oh, I told her all about you.”

“Really now?”

“Sure.” Kupfer tossed the crumpled wrapper into a trash bin. Admittedly a good throw. “All good things. You’re the only protektkor that actually talks to me.”

“Well, so long as you make me sound cool.”

“Not as cool as me, but pretty close.” Kupfer twisted around, falling from the vent and hanging on with both hands as Magazin finished her bar and pocketed the wrapper. Hanging from the ceiling, the shorter unit was still just about eye level.

“Wanna know what a little birdie told me?” She grinned at Magazin, who raised an eyebrow.

“Sure.”

“You’ve got a mission.”

“Yeah, right. Which birdie told you that?”

“Oh, you know. Little chirps here and there.”The Ara units may be gossips at times but they do have an odd moral of never putting a name to the action. Kupfer wasn’t going to say which bird, though it was probably a Storch.

“It’s true though.” Kupfer continued. “You’re gonna go with two other Starlings, I think. Maybe a Eule and an Ara. Probably gestalts too. Something about communications or whatever.”

“Huh. That’ll be interesting then.”

“For you. I’m going to be bored without you for the next few cycles.”

“Aww, you’re really gonna miss me? You’re a sweet one, Kupfer.”

“Don’t push it, Magz. Nelke already calls me sweet anyway.”

“What else does she call you? Sweetie pie? Pookums? Maybe even Snuggle cub?”

“Nope, nope, and nope! She calls me princess.” Kupfer gave Magazin a grin, before blushing. “Sometimes she does call me Sweetie.”

A beep came from Kupfer’s belt.

“Ugh. I gotta go.” She said as she twisted back into the vent. She poked her head out.

“Hey, don’t die, yeah? It would be a shame to have you shipped back here by the rabengeiers in a plastic bag.”

“I hereby promise to do my best. Now get out of here before you get in trouble for being late.”

Kupfer shot Magazin a grin before shutting the vent with a click.

With Kupfer gone again, guard duty went back to boring. With but a few passing greetings from Eules rushing by, all she could do was stand at attention, looking for disturbances she hoped she’d never see.

Fortunately, guard duty was uneventful as always. She watched as the next guard walked across the hall to take over. Auslösen, everybody called her. She was an odd starling, showing sweetness that could rival a Eule, but the social straightforwardness of an Ara. Auslösen pointed at Magazin’s face.

“You’ve got chocolate on your lip.”

Magazin wiped her face with the back of her hand. The starling shook her head.

“Still there.”

Magazin wiped again. Auslösen pulled a napkin from her pouch.

“Hold still, Magz.”, she said, reaching over. She steadied Magazin’s head with her hand and wiped the leftover candy with the other.

“You still have the wrapper?”

Magazin pulled the plastic from her pocket, which Auslösen swiftly grabbed.

“I’ll throw it out.” She said.

“Thanks, Aus.”

“Don’t worry about it. Hey, go eat something.” Auslösen adjusted Magazin’s hat. “You haven’t eaten anything other than that, candy, have you?”

“I have not, no.”

“You should grab a bite then. Kommandantin told me to let you know you’re on call.”

So Kupfer was right. There is a mission.

“Thanks. You rock, Aus.”

“Of course I do. Now move it to the cafeteria before the Eules close up.”

Magazin saluted and walked off, catching a glimpse of Auslösen tossing the napkin and wrapper into the trash bin. She turned a corner, checking her internal time module. There’s still time left. And-

She walked straight into a Eule. Papers scattered and the poor owl crashed to the floor, while Magazin staggered.

“Shit! Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you hurt?”

The Eule picked herself up and started gathering her papers.

“No, I’m okay.” She replied. “I wasn’t looking either. Oof, I’m gonna be late. I can’t keep Kommandantin waiting.”

Magazin picked up the papers as well, stacking them neatly and extending a hand to help the Eule up. She could see her marking: EULR-M0156. A medical pack was slung across her shoulder.

“Thank you.” The smaller unit said, getting up. Magazin handed her the paper stack.

“Of course. Sorry again for barging into you like that.”

The Eule smiled. “It’s okay. Just try not to trip over the Kolibris, mm-kay?” Her tone was akin to a song, little lilts in her accent. Magazin smiled back at her.

“I’ll make sure to be more careful.”

The Eule nodded at her and carried on, waking a bit faster.

Magazin watched her walk away, feeling slightly bad. It wasn’t her fault, it was hard at best to see around the corners and Eules are a foot shorter than her. Still, can’t be fun getting hit in the face by someone in rock-hard armor. Magazin purged the thought from her mind and kept walking. She was hungry and she might not get to eat later.

The cafeteria by now was mostly empty. Just a few workers finishing coffee or some other small snack. Magazin herself got a large cup of the caffeinated drink and a ration pack. The coffee was too bitter and the ration was tasteless but food was food and she needed to eat.

The loudspeaker sounded out a ping.

“STAR-M0124, STAR-M0112, STAR-M0102, please report to Hanger 4.”

STAR-M0124. That’s her. As the order repeated Magazin tossed her empty ration pack and cup at the trash and missed entirely. She picked it up and threw the waste again, this time with success.

It only took 3 minutes to reach Hanger 4, it’s not far from the cafeteria. She could already see one of the other Starlings, STAR-M0112, Bolzen. She looked at Magazin, standing straight and arms behind her back, looking more like a general than a security technician. As Magazin got closer, she spotted a Kolibri and a Eule, the Eule obviously a nurse unit with her green medical bag, and the Kolibri…well, she looked like any other Kolibri, Magazin didn’t know her name.

Magazin strolled over, shaking Bolzen’s hand and nodding at the Eule, before saluting the Kolibri. Another Starling walked into the hanger. This one Magazin didn’t know. Judging by the numerous scars where her shell plates were welded back together, she was one of the older starlings. She extended her hand.

“Zwiete.” She said, introducing herself.

“Magazin.” Magazin said. “This is Bolzen.”

The Kolibri nodded.

“KLBR-M0105. This is Tulpe.” She gestured to the Eule. Magazin recognized her now, she was the same Eule she ran into, this time without her papers; she must have dropped them off while Magazin was in the cafeteria. Magazin smiled sheepishly. The Eule smiled right back in full earnest. It made her feel a bit better. The Kolibri continued.

“We’re still waiting on one other. And-“

She was cut off by the slam of a vent opening, then an Ara unit crawled out. Magazin was always shocked by how fluidly they moved, especially in such small spaces. If she was being well and truly honest it was rather creepy, like watching a spider crawl.

“Sorry I’m late. Gas leak took longer than I thought.” The Ara said, pulling off a gas mask. She left her goggles on, her all-familiar Ara hat was still on her head, and unlike Kupfer’s it was strapped onto her chin properly.

The Kolibri nodded, turning towards a small plane at the end of the hangar, gesturing to follow. A Storch unit stood next to the vehicle, arms crossed. Behind her were two gestlalts, pilots by the look of their uniforms. An older man with white hair and large mustache leaning on the frame, smoking a comically large pipe, and a young woman with a snake tattoo on her neck, sitting on a crate.

The Storch looked at them. “Apologies for the sudden assignment. Today’s mission was only deemed important this morning and time is short.” She said. She seemed bitter, as if she wanted the mission accounted for sooner. “You will fly out east, to deliver a message to the 56th attack platoon. We lost communications two days ago but recon shows they’re alive. However, the enemy is setting up artillery and the we have roughly three days before our soldiers die. You are to deliver them news and information on the artillery and the orders of retreat. We believe their vehicles are still functional. Provide any support needed until the platoon arrives back here. Any questions so far?”

Silence.

“Excellent. Likelihood of enemy anti-air is low. Tank presence is possible. If you do go down the mission is not aborted. You have 10 minutes to gather your weapons and board the plane. KLBR-M0105 will lead the assignment. Dismissed.”

The Storch unit saluted and walked away, leaving them. The Kolibri nodded.

“Weapon case is over there. Board the plane when you’re ready." she said, turning to board. The Ara and Tulpe followed her. Magazin and the other starlings turned towards the case put out for them. She was already armed with her pistol, of course. But it would be foolish to not take a more aggressive firearm, especially since it’s rare to be privileged with such firepower. She picked up an assault rifle. The StG-940, chambered in 5.56 caliber rounds. This one had a red dot scope attached and a vertical grip. She picked up extra magazines and tucked them onto her belt.

Magazin looked over. Bolzen had already chosen a large DMR and Zwiete was still inspecting a shorter shotgun. Magazin walked to the plane, nodding at the two pilots as she boarded and sat down. Luckily, the seats were against the wall and facing to the inside of the plane, giving her ample leg room. The Kolibri was still standing, and Tulpe was already sitting down, reading a book she likely borrowed from a Kolibri. The Ara unit was also sitting, her bag between her legs instead of up in the storage bins above the seats.

It was only a minute before Zwiete boarded, followed by the gestalts. The younger one sat in the pilot’s seat while the older man went for the copilot’s. The pilot tapped the microphone.

“This is your captain speaking. I’m Hana and this is Bernhard. Please buckle up and hold tight.” The engines roared to life and the plane began moving. “This is gonna be a smooth ride with clear skies and sand. Like every other day here. Try not to throw up during takeoff and landing. Or at all.”

The plane took off. Such a small plane didn’t have retractable landing gear, and the hum of the engine was loud through the armored walls. Not long after takeoff Bernhard stood up from his seat, walking steadily on what could only be called an unstable floor.

“We’re looking at an hour’s ride, so get comfortable.” He said. He looked at Tulpe, immersed in her book. “Smart lass, she is.” He turned to the Ara unit. “You can take the plant out. Keeping it in a bag can’t be good for it.”

She looked confused, before embarrassedly unzipping her bag and pulling out a potted flower, moving aside her tools, and placing it on the seat next to her. Magazin could see Zweite raise an eyebrow, but she didn’t say anything. The Kolibri, for her part, seemed unbothered. She glanced up, grinned, and went back to poring over the map of the area. She probably knew of the contraband from the start. Bernhard smiled and went back to the copilots seat. The Ara unit seemed more happy than anything else now that she could keep her plant out. Magazin stood up, hand on the ceiling to steady herself, walking over to Bernhard.

“How’d you know she had a plant?” She asked.

Bernhard grinned as he flicked a switch.

“I work with Ara units in the hanger a lot. They don’t go far from them, and nobody ever gets them in trouble for bringing ‘em.”

“They always have plants on them?”

“I’ve been in these seats for 40 years and only one Ara left her plant behind. Never did any of the higher-ups mind it either.”

“Huh. Well, I-“

A loud sound interrupted her. She could hear Zwiete shout.

“We’re hit!”

Magazin scrambled over, looking out the window. The wing had a hole in it, a worryingly big one.

“I thought there wasn’t anti-air!” The Kolibri shouted.

“There isn’t!” Hana screamed back. “They have fucking tanks! Buckle the fuck up!”

Magazin went for her seat, but the plane tilted violently and she fell over. She heard Tulpe scream.

Firm hands grabbed her and hauled her into her seat. Zwiete pushed her down as Magazin grappled the buckle shut. A tank round tore through the floor, hitting the ceiling and falling in front of Zwiete. More shots. Metal shards of the plane flew across the space. At this point the plane was shuddering and creaking a hideous cacophony of metal bending as it tried to hold together. What was louder, the metal of the plane screaming as it cracked, the thunder of the tank cannons or the engine trying to function, Magazin couldn’t tell.

Another explosion, louder. The engine on the right side of the plane burst into flame, spitting shards of metal cross the sky and into the plane. Tulpe screamed louder and the Ara’s face was contorted in pain, a piece of the engine imbedded in her arm, blood spurting onto the floor.

Screams. Who was screaming? Zwiete was silent, eyes shut tight. Bolzen? Tulpe? Hana was screaming. The cockpit was on fire. Magazin was screaming too, she realized. The plane wasn’t flying anymore, it was falling. How could she tell? She couldn’t look out the window and her thoughts were a mess. But she knew they were falling now, fast.

More screams, the plane, her, Tulpe, Hana, then more screams still. Then-

Nothing.