{"sf1_id":707251,"sf2_id":null,"title":"Arrogance.4","author":"MagnumGit","words":2180,"posted_at":"2014-05-20T03:21:00.000Z","tags":["Forges","Future","Sci-Fi","Science Fiction","USCA","story"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/707251-arrogance-4","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/view/707251","image_url":"https://www.sofurryfiles.com/std/thumb?page=707251\u0026ext=.jpg","description":"","content":"\nEntering the\nForges was akin to entering a different world, one with poisonous air and metal\ntrees. Twisting rows of gears and trollies, vast\nlakes of molten metal tended to by strange creatures in leather skin and\nbulbous tanks, cold glittering eyes glared out from ghoulish faces wearing\nbug-eyed masks, a cluster of hoses hanging from their mouths. \nThere were claws\nthat reached down from the sky and plucked the unborn skeletons of machines and\nferried them elsewhere, all the while countless lights hung in the expanse, and\nin the distance a single massive molten sun burned. \nDaniel readjusted\nhis breathing mask so the cooling system wasn't blasting him directly in his\nface as he entered the forges and followed the others to the nearest\nForge-Local-Transport, as the vast underground Forge spanned thousands of miles\nall around. It was an entire city of molten metal and poison air.\nThey were led\naround the next corner, which revealed one of the dull grey air-trams. The\ntwenty odd students boarded and found seats, the Forge Master walked to the\nfront and hit the holographic dashboard, punching in the code for the Avionics\nsector. The automated trolley started with a jolt and then rose above the\nforest of metal trees. It drifted slowly along the designated air-paths, flying\nover tanks on assembly lines and depots for vast quantities of munitions. Ten\nminutes passed in absolute silence while the huddled students-turned-factory\nworkers were ferried across an endless industrial biome. \nThe trolley\ndinged twice to announce their arrival in the Avionics district of the\nForge-Works, with some stumbling and shoving the children filed off the\nair-tram and the Forge Master soon followed close behind. \nThey were soon\nall gazing up at the superstructure of an aircraft. Their craft. Their project, and their final test. She wasn't\nanything special, just a regular Junker model of a plane, a transport with a\nlarge cargo bay. She was capable of spaceflight and short-range jumps, but that\nwas about it. She was going to be sturdy though, boxy, with thick plating. They\nestimated that she could easily do a high-speed re-entry without any major\nissues. Slowing her down would be a problem though even with the\nPulse-thrusters they slapped onto her. She had a rudimentary form of VTOL, but\nit was clumsy at the best of times. \nTo any\nprofessional, she was garbage 23-nd C style crap that not even the\nlowest-class Civvie would bother flying. She was crude, patchwork, clunky,\nslapped together with nothing but hopes and prayer, and they loved her for that.\nIt was a sort of\nadoration and a mingled fear of reprisal that kept them working so diligently\non this project. It wasn't because if they finished well they would be assured\na solid job stationed at a colony military outpost to keep and maintain the\nvehicles there. Although it was a nice bonus if that did happen.\nThey moved in\nclockwork motion. \nToney laced\nelectrical wiring throughout the inner hull, Fio set-thermo resistant glasswork\ninto the cockpit window. Gwen ran system telemetry and charted airflow across\nher frame before shifting to another aspect that needed refining. \nDaniel welded\nplates, set pipes, installed engine work.\nDaniel crawled\nalong the top of the skeleton airframe, it's insides all but finished, the\ninner hull now undergoing final adjustments as they laid wiring to the thruster\nports. Daniel now had to only finish with the outer hull. Simons, another\nclassmate passed up a black metal plate, it was heavy, and Daniel nearly\ndropped it onto sensitive electronics when it was handed to him. Simons also\ntossed up a thermo-binder: a mononuclear welding Torch.  \nGiving the\nactivation switch a few flicks he was satisfied at the blue beam of light that\nit emitted from the tip. He set to work, laying down tile after tile of\nreinforced hull plating. With the torch he seamlessly bound metals together\nwith little to no effort. It gave him a feeling of control. \n \nThe cargo ramp\nwas currently giving two students some grief, it would only lower halfway\nbefore stopping although it was not caught on anything, surely not any plating,\nDaniel had laid that himself, it was\nflawless. Even so, Gwen worked with the two: helping in repairing what was\nobviously just a loose wire, there was not much she was needed for at the\nmoment. No miracles were required. \nDaniel\nlet himself be quietly distracted by his thoughts, his hands on autopilot. \nPlace. Hold.\nWeld. Repeat.\nSuch a simple\nprocedure. \nSometimes, you would\nget to shift your position.\nHow exciting.\nDaniel didn't\ncare. He loved this type of work, mind numbing though it may have seemed. There\nwas tact to it. Skill. Only perfect would suffice, the smallest mistake was all\nit took in space. The smallest crack in the seam, the smallest flaw in any\nconstruction, for the void to tear a ship apart.\nHe cursed\nviolently, his hand recoiling at the sudden contact with the damnably hot\nmetal, the heat searing him even through the thick synthetic leather body suit.\nSinged fabric, smoke rising from the soot black patch. He had only burnt the\nouter layer; the synthetic material had already congealed into a protective\nhard scab, he continued onwards with the weld; he'll be fine.\n \nHe berated\nhimself for going too slowly and letting the heat build up, he could have blown\na breaker in the torch and would have lost his other hand. Fuck, he could recall losing the first one. \nHe'd been molding\ngun-rails, pouring molten metal into hollow models, when he'd lost focus and\nwent to pick up the most recent cast when it was well over 450 degrees.\nObviously in pain and scared at the thought of a suit puncture in the under\nforges, he panicked.\nIt was the damn\nAbhuman that he had to thank for his continued survival since that day. He\ncouldn't remember much, the chemical burns and nerve damage had nearly knocked\nhim into sweet unconsciousness. He did remember being tackled to the ground and\na numbing white heat cut away at what was left of his ruined hand. He woke up\nin the infirmary later that day, she had used a bore welder to chop the hand\noff and cauterize it. \nAnother plus on\nher so far flawless record.\nDaniel ground his\nteeth and clutched the handle to his welder all the more harder. He looked at\nher now, circling the ship, leaning back and forth to inspect every detail no\nmatter how minor, every now and then she would scribble something down on a\ndatapad before moving on. He honestly didn't know what her deal was sometimes.\nAlways so self-conscious, never speaking unless asked to, he didn't get her and\nher fucking perfectionism. If good enough was fine for him, it should be fine\nfor her. \nHe loosened his\ngrip on the trigger for the torch- he nearly burnt himself again. If he wasn't\nmore careful or he would warp the plates and he'd have to do the whole section\nover again and wouldn't that be a\npain. He slowed down; he didn't need to rush things just yet.\nAfter a few hours\nthey reached a thirty-minute breaking period where they were allowed a\nstim-shot and protein jelly, Daniel eagerly accepted the stim-shot, Gwen\ndeclined. Daniel recalled having never seen her use one. He passed it off as\nsome sort of cultural thing. Not that they had any culture, the only place\nwhere you saw an Abhuman commonly was the Military. Other then that you almost\nnever see a 'civilian' Hybrid. And even then they're like Gwen, tagged and\nregulated. Not his problem though. He had his own things to worry about. Hell\nhe wondered if he would be able to get off in time to hit the Buyer's Union\nstores in the 'Neon' district. \nHe was worried\nbecause he wasn't sure if he even had enough cred's to buy anything, he leaned\nback against a pylon as he slipped the needle into a liquid reception filter on\nthe mask's apparatus, depressing the plunger he spat the hazel drug into his\nwater reservoir. Some would just jam the stim's straight into less thick parts\nof there Forge clothes, just wanting to get it in there and now. Not him\nthough, he didn't want to risk some foreign chemical entering his body and\nscrewing him up. \nHe shivered as he\ndrank deeply, electricity seeming to shoot over his mouth and down his through\nthen spread through his entire body, the sensation, as he recalled, was that of\nhis nerves over stimulating and bursting, if that was at all possible. The rush\nreached his brain, and his thoughts faded. They set to work once more, numb in\nmind and body.\n \n Gwen looked\nat them all, more beastlike then human at the moment. She pitied them as much\nas she envied them. She felt the constricting tightness of the collar around\nher neck, she set back to work. Daniel had welded the plates too hotly. \nShe had to fix\nthem, again. \nNot that she\nwould tell Daniel that, even though it might bleed him of his arrogance.\nHer hands deftly\nbegan working metal off of the hull, a plasma torch making perfect incisions\nwith a steady hand and sharpened skills. She stripped plates for a minute or so\nbefore she began soldering them back on. Giving each carful attention but never\nstaying on one plate for more then thirty seconds. \nShe glanced\naround her; Daniel was working on the other side of the ship now. She made sure\nto trail behind him. She sighed to herself as she put another hull plate back\ninto position, a classmate aiding her in steadying it. Daniel would have been a\ngood Forgesmith if he just dedicated himself a bit more. He never applied himself, he could be\nunbearably arrogant at times, and it made her wonder why she hung around him. \nShe faltered for\nonly a second, she nearly screwed up a cut. It would have still been useable,\nbut perfection was her standard, and there was no changing that. She knew why,\nit was because he was one of the only people who would even sit next to her,\nand the only one who would talk to her. This damn necklace... Recording\neverything about her, it made her feel naked, even with the heavy forge-suit\nshe wore now. \nAt any moment the\nDAS could pull up her profile and see what she saw, hear what she heard, and if\nshe were to commit a crime? He could execute her right on the spot. No\nhesitation either. And even with this damnable steel choker she still had to\nattend meetings and hearings, evaluations and performance reviews. She bore it\nall though, whining about it would cause her to get marked down. \nShe had too,\nreally. She was an Abhuman. A Hybrid.\nShe needed to do well; she couldn't afford to let herself be looked over like\nso many others were, because she had something to prove. She wanted to be able\nto be free of this collar one day, and all others like her to be free as well.\nSure, they might never be fully accepted, as it was only natural for these\ntimes. \nShe lost herself\nin her dreams, letting her hands do the work where her mind dreamt. Another\nplate done, now for the next section. Easy steps: lower it into place, hold it\nsteady, and tack it to the beams, four straight welds, and check for tears or\nleaks... Repeat. Gwen worked hard. Hell, she was top of her class for the fifth\nyear in a row ever since getting accepted into the integration program. Never\nonce has she been late, and she'd never had an assignment late as well. She was\nthe model student, and everyone admitted it. Such a student as her was hard to\ncome by, a faceted diamond in the rough shining crystal blue. She would have\nmany doors open for her when she graduated; she only had to maintain her\nstandings. \nIf only that were\nthe case. Half of those doors would be shut at the mere sight of her. The other\nhalf would have her mopping floors. \nHer band felt\ntighter then usual today, and she knew why. It was one of her monthly\nevaluations, she swallowed nervously. She struggled to keep her hands from\ntrembling too much. She calmed herself with some effort. Herculean to others\nwas simple for her. She told herself there was nothing she could do about\nthe... arrangement she had with the DAS.\nShe nearly cursed\nwhen the forge smith announced that their shift was over and they boarded up\nonto the FLT once more. Daniel looked pleased as he observed what he thought to\nbe 'his' work. Gwen distracted herself by assessing the damage Daniel did to\nthe other side before the lift gave a jolt and they were taken into the\nforge-works-sky one more time. \nThe air was\ntoxic, and her heart was bitter. \n"}