Mercenary: The Early Years
Fixit:
Shortie by Lone Wolf
Narrated by Harris Milson

	I am Harris Milson, mechanic for the Jade Wolf and arguably the best 
god damn mech technician on HQ. It isn't just a job, just a career. It's 
much more for me. It's my only one true passion, my pride and joy, and a 
great way to pick up chicks.

	The mechs are my children. Crash's Dark Wolf is my son. Pyro and 
Slasher, Mohammed's mechs, are my grandkids. The one Chaos we own is the 
problem child, since it refuses to give me a decent day of work when I deal 
with it. And then there is the Bulldog, a project Crash and I have embarked 
upon. it's my committment, the one place you can almost always find me in my 
spare time. It's one of my life dreams come true.

	But it wasn't always like that....

************************************************************************

	"Fixit," Marcus called out. "Fixit!" Fixit was my nickname amongst the 
Wrecking Crew, mostly because I could fix damn near everything they gave me. 
Be it their missile launchers or even useless personal gadgets, I was the 
sole reason the Crew never really saw the local gun runner and 'munition's 
dealer. "Fixit!" He stepped under one of Shorty's mechs and grumbled. "How 
come you can never find him when you need him?"
	"Yeah chief?" He jumped back as I popped out, upside down, of the 
mech's service panel.
	He held his chest and grumbled something. "Don't fucking do that! You 
wanna give me a heart attack?!"
	I smirked and flipped out. There I was, 5'6", 145 pounds of 23 year 
old fox. I was in my standard uniform - my formerly bright, now permanently 
stained with oil orange jumpsuit. Man, those things could lose their sheen 
after a few weeks of roaming the inards of a mech! "Sorry chief. What do you 
need?"
	He smiled. "We got an old mech with a new recruit. It needs some 
sprucing up."
	I sighed. More work for me. I looked up on the mech I was working on. 
"I just need to realign the gyros. I'll be able to assess the new mech after 
I'm done."
	"Actually, before you do that, I would like you in my office. I'll be 
waiting there."
	"All right. See you in a few." He nodded and walked away. I shook my 
head. "I swear..." I grasped the lip of the service hatch and hoisted myself 
back inside.

	After a brief clean up and brushing (damn oil gets caught in my fur), 
I went up to Marcus' office. "Chief?" I asked as I peered inside. 
	Amongst the piles of files and ammo crates, Marcus' desk sat. "Come in 
Fixit," he told me from behind his computer screen. I entered and maneuvered 
around the piles of crap. As soon as I got to his desk, he turned the screen 
to me. "Meet our new recruit," he said. The screen showed a vicious arctic 
wolf. It took a second for it to register.
	"That's the Ghandi dude who scared half of the Iron Tallon, most of
Hellspawn, and a few of our guys shitless during that televised execution."
	"Yep. Mohammed now works for us."
	I shuddered.
	"He's quite reckless in battle, but that makes him damn effective. Too 
bad that means most of his equipment comes back damaged."
	I shook my head. "Sir, couldn't you give this one to another one of 
our mechanics?"
	He smirked. "Because you deserve a reward."
	A few seconds passed. "What?"
	"Go to the window and look in berth seven. That's his mech." I 
shrugged and went over to the window. I looked at our private berths. The 
first three were occupied by those new Commando mechs. I knew them well; 
they had their once over a week ago. Next to them, in berths four and five 
were Marcus' Excelsior and Hilander. They were my personal favorites, since 
I helped Marcus build them from scratch using his plans. Next to them was 
the mech I was just working on - Shorty's Sprite. All it was - I swear - was 
a midget Hilander with laser up the keister.
	Then came berth seven. My eyes widened as I saw the legend standing 
there. I looked at Marcus, looked at the mechs again, then at Marcus. 
"Winds?!" He nodded. "He has a WINDS MECH?!" He nodded again. I leaped into 
the air, my arms stretched in victory. "Finally! I get to learn about the 
legend." I started for the door, tripping over the stuff that was now 
scattered about. "What were his specifications? No, fuck that, I'd better 
get general repairs down first." I bumbled my way to the door.
	"Fixit." I turned to him. "Don't blow a cell. Calm down."

	The service platform lifted me into the air, heading for the panel on 
the mech's chest. Once we hit it up with some anti-rust agent and pried it 
open, I crawled in. There was no service tube! I had to crawl through the 
small ducts and wire forests to reach the service room, which was somewhere 
in the left arm. And it was one hell of a room! It must have been the main 
power core for the left arm cannon; a large focusing crystal was suspended 
in front of me. I looked around in amazement for a few minutes before 
looking for something that might have proved interesting. I found a small 
computer. I hesitated a bit before turning it on.
	The screen blinked. "Winds 6 mech internal diagnostic and repair 
systems online. Welcome. What can I do for you today?"
	I blinked. "Uh...could you give me a damage report?"
	The screen lit up with very fancy graphics depicting the winds. "All 
armor has been damaged to critical levels. Non-structural weapon systems 
have been stripped. Circuitry has all but been fried. Arm cannon are in fair 
condition and only require minor manual repairs. The crystals are slightly 
dusty." I smirked. A computer with a sense of humor was something I didn't 
really need.
	"Print out the repairs for the arm cannons. I'll get to the rest of 
the repairs after I'm done."
	"Unnescessary."
	I looked at the screen. "What?"
	"Unnescessary."
	"Why?"
	"Auto-repair systems can handle all structural and electrical 
damages."
	"Erm...okay."
	"Would you like to activate the auto-repair protocals?"
	"Yes, please."
	"Protocals activated. And you don't have to say please." 
	"Hmph. What are you, artificial intelligence?"
	"I am DEE. Digitally Enhanced Entity."
	"Oh. My bad."
	"And you are? I do not recognize you."
	"I'm Fixit. Name says it all. Can I get to the parts of the arm 
cannons that require repair now?"
	"Of course Fixit. Welcome aboard." The piece of catawalk I was 
standing on suddenly shifted and floated over to the crystal. "You may also 
want to polish that crystal," DEE's voice boomed overhead. "If it's dusty, 
the beams are inefficient."
	I laughed. "Sure thing DEE. Welcome aboard."

************************************************************************

	My mechs are my children. The new ones I treat like newborns (too bad 
the pilots can't do the same #@*! thing). The elder ones give me the 
aggrivation you'd expect from teenagers. And I have the ones I'm proud of - 
my prodegies. But to have worked on a legend...to work WITH a legend thanks 
to DEE...to have learned about one of the greatest mechs of all time...I am 
proud of that...

End
Harris, Marcus, and DEE are © Lone Wolf and <([ Lone Wolf Studios ])>