On-the-Job Training

Rebecca huffed and puffed as she slowly made her way up the cliff face. Even though her armor had a built-in A/C and a water dispenser, she was sweating bullets with each step up she took. For what seemed like the thousandth time that hour, she switched on her radio back to Vina.

"Hey V, remind me why I'm the one climbing up here and you're back on the ship watching," she asked, more to distract her from the burning in her lungs than to actually get information.

"You're far more stealthy in your body armor than I am flying around in my armor," Vina explained. "I could just charge in guns a'blazing, but then the mark would escape and I'd feel bad."

Rebecca snorted. "Okay, fine, that's reasonable. So why am I carrying Shaggy?"

"Deinos can't use ropes and pulleys and all that fun climbing gear, and you need his help."

Rebecca nodded. "Fine, fine. Why am I carrying Flutters?"

Although unable to hear the conversation over the radio, the Noibat perched on Rebecca's shoulder chirped happily.

"I don't know," Vina answered. "Have you tried asking her to fly herself up?"

Rebecca grunted, pushing herself now that the top of the cliff was in sight. "No. She listens to you and ignores me while making nests out of my shirts."

The next few minutes passed in silence; Rebecca continued to put one hand in front of the other, not breaking her concentration to tell the flying Pokemon to fly. Soon enough, she'd be at the top and she could catch her breath, have a drink, and then set up her weapons to provide some covering fire when Vina actually launched her attack on the bandit camp the two Sealanders had been hired to bust.

Within the camp, bandits milled about as they sorted the goods from their latest haul. Marauding men and women casually exchanged insults, jokes, and anecdotes as they went about their business. Rebecca could see some basic detection equipment - probably good enough to detect tanks, planes, or robot armors - but the camp lacked more than a few bored sentries for keeping out spies.

"Alright, Shag, you sit there while Mama Rebecca sets up her toys."

Rebecca patted the Deino on his head and began setting up several new toys the Sealanders had been given: an automated mortar, a light machine gun, and some kind of tranquilizer-laden missile or something. She wasn't entirely sure what was in it, but she went about setting it up as Vina had repeatedly instructed and drilled her on.

"Good job," Rebecca's wife had said in praise. "We'll make a passable infantryman out of you yet."

Once the last weapon was set up, Rebecca sent a double-click over her radio: the signal for Vina to move in. With the call made, Rebecca immediately activated the weapons. The mortar scattered explosive shells about and the missile shot into a tent and scattered a paralyzing white mist pouring out while Rebecca laid down a blanket of suppressive fire, cutting down any bandit too brave or stupid to find cover. It was a rather easy job: hold down the trigger, move the barrel around, and ignore the occasional bullet casing bouncing off her helmet.

Once the return fire came, it got slightly more serious. Long range pistol shots weren't going to do much to her, but once the bandits got out a grenade launcher, Rebecca was almost convinced to bug out.

Then Vina arrived in 15 feet of heavy metal, firepower, and thrusters; her beloved heirloom power armor Siebzehn. A big blue hulk, Siebzehn barreled through the bandit defenders like it hadn't even noticed they were there. The only sign that Vina HAD noticed anyone in her way was a volley of missiles fired behind her as she burst into the tent and burst out a moment later with an unconscious humanoid in her arms.

"I've got the mark," Vina reported. "Call for the ship and let's go get paid."

Rebecca nodded, summoning their new spacecraft. She could never remember the current name, the ship's serial number, off the top of her head. She really should get around to naming it. That would have to wait though as a bandit had managed to get close to her position.

Rebecca stared down the barrel of a pistol, wondering if a shot at this range would be able to pierce the lenses on her helmet. A purely academic question though, as the bandit soon found his shooting arm clamped between a pair of vicious, burning jaws as Shaggy took offense to someone pointing a gun at his master. Flutters fluttered about, clawing at the bandit's back as the ship finally showed up.

"Alright, pets, it's time to go home," Rebecca ordered, picking up the gear hastily.