Chapter 39 (YEAR 2052)

"Alright, listen up pilots!"

Mallet was in her element, standing at the front of the crowded briefing room.

To call it a briefing room was generous. The open-air auditorium was, in fact, merely a ramshackle collection of chairs and tables pulled together in the corner of one of the dropship landing platforms.

My seat was close to the platform's railing. I could see the Firmament's uppermost dome high above and could almost make out the bulky shape of the reactor core far below. The morning was muggy and smelled of ocean salt and oil.

Sixteen dropships of various sizes occupied the space directly behind us. Crews bustled about the space, loading mechs and making final preparations.

The mechanical din was only overwhelmed by the din of thirty mech pilots chattering nervously.

"Grayson, shut up," Mallet snapped.

A specific, loud voice quickly stopped talking and the rest of the room soon followed suit.

General Marissa Mallet swung her hawk-like gaze to the front of the platform, w