Birth of a Pilot

Angelo opened his eyes to a large, open room illuminated with light. Standing at the center is the Starwalker in all its un-tarped mechanical glory. Or, for Angelo, ‘mechanical horror’ might be the more appropriate term.

“My pride and joy.” Romero hugs his creation. “Finally, you’ll get to shine like you deserve!” He looks over to Angelo, offering a hand. “She’s ready when you are, dear.”

Dear? Angelo wonders if he's overreacting, but he's pretty sure the staff major never called any of the other guys 'dear' before. Should he say something about it? No. One botched correction is enough for the day. Besides, he doesn't want to look like he's jumping to conclusions.

“Hey. Angelo. Are you sure about this?” Angelo almost can’t contain his excitement when Jun asks him that. They notice too. He could hug them right now.

“Yes! We should ask how Muffinhead feels before deciding his fate for him!” Roxie leans toward Angelo. She waits patiently for an answer.

“I don’t really know about this…” he admits. “I-It looks kind of scary.” He inches closer to Leon. “I’m really sorry S-Staff Major, but after hearing about that one guy getting injured, I… I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

“Ohhhh, no no no no no no!” Romero laughs. “Taji just bumped his butt up against the power button, you’re much too small for that! It’s alright, I promise! Just try it for me once, pleeease?”

This guy is much too eager for Angelo’s comfort. Don’t pressure me, you weirdo. 

The lieutenant captain squints at the researcher, then addresses Angelo. “If you don’t wanna go, you shouldn’t have to, right Lorie?” Emil looks to his brother for confirmation.

The captain doesn’t answer.

Emil huffs. “Right, Captain Galhardo?”

“It would seem… unwise to send Ranger Summers into that, yes.” The captain glances at Angelo. He must be thinking of the young ranger’s performance yesterday. If Angelo can’t pick up rocks correctly, how is the captain going to trust him with piloting a robot? Angelo thinks about his previous contributions to the team. According to others, he’s done good so far, but he feels he could do better. He owes them all the help he can give considering how much trouble he might get them all in if they find out he’s not who he says he is. He shouldn’t run away from this chance.

Angelo takes one last look at  Romero. He’s visibly panicking. 

“Actually, I… I think I’ll be alright.” 

“Yeeeeeah!!” Angelo’s reply barely leaves his lips when the staff major gives a loud whoop.

“Are you sure, Ángie?” Leon asks sincerely.

Angelo hesitates. He notices Mia’s concerned expression along with Aiden mouthing ‘No, don’t!’

The young star ranger walks toward the contraption. He stares Romero directly in the glasses. “I’m ready.”

“Alriiight!” The researcher claps. “I was starting to wonder if I might have to get my daughter to test it instead... I’m joking, of course!” He laughs.

Are you really? Angelo wonders. 

“You might want to take off that jacket though. The less loose clothing, the better.” At the staff major’s request, Angelo removes his uniform jacket, and the researcher gladly takes it.

“Here, I’ll give you a boost.” The older star ranger crouches down.

“I think I’ll be f-fine.”

The young star ranger looks up at the daunting legs. He admittedly got caught in the heat of the moment when he said he didn’t need help. He attempts to grab onto the ‘thigh’ of the robot and hoist himself up from there. His shoulders deny him.

“Ah… I’m sorry but I think I might need a little help.”

A helpful push from the researcher is just what he needs to be able to reach to steady himself on the thigh and one of the footholds of the robot. He then manages to scramble into the seat.

“Good, now strap yourself in with the seatbelts. There should be about three. One for your waist, and two for your shoulders.”

Angelo fumbles around until he finds and secures all three seatbelts.

“Perfect! That is a perfect fit!” Romero gives him two thumbs up. “Look at you! Snug as if you were cradled by your own mother!” To tell the truth, the seatbelts make Angelo feel very safe. He finds them comforting.

The staff major speedwalks over to another desk on the other side of the room. “The rest of you might wanna come over here.” The rest of Angelo’s crew follows him over to the desk. Romero presses a button on his laptop, and the projector on the ceiling turns around and displays on the wall in front of Angelo. He sees footage of himself in the Starwalker.

“Now I’m just going to need your name for documentation. I’m gonna need you to be really loud since you’re farther away! Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I said ‘Okay?’”

“Okay!”

“I’m going to need you to be a little louder than that!”

“Okay!!” Angelo wonders if that’s too loud.

“...Actually, you know what? Just turn on the Starwalker, there’s a built-in radio you can use to talk to your ol’ pal, me! Okay?”

“Oka--”

“I need you to press the red button!”

“Oh, um, o-okay...“ From where Angelo sits, there’s at least five different red buttons he could press. He points to one.

“No, that’s a switch! The power button is to your right!”

He points to another red button.

“No, that’s a knob!”

He points to a slightly larger circular button.

“Yes, that’s it! Press that one!”

Angelo presses the button, and the machine starts with a frightening jolt. Many unfamiliar noises assault his ears as he tries to maintain his bearings.

“Can you hear me now?” Angelo’s heart almost leaps out of his chest as Romero’s voice is heard over the speakers in his cockpit. They’re apparently on either side of his head.

“Y-y-yes, I h-hear you, sir!” 

“Good, now tell me your name. I think I heard your last name was Summers, correct?”

“Correct!”

“Alright, and your first name? I don’t think I caught it.”

“A-Angelo, with an ‘o’!” He wants to make sure his name is spelled right. Angelo can see Staff Major Romero’s typing on the projected image in front of him. It reads ‘Ongelo Summers’. Close enough. Luckily, Emil and Leon correct the researcher’s misspelling.

“Now we’re in business!” Romero cracks his fingers. “Can you grab those handles on either side of you, son?”

Angelo obeys. The arms move as soon as he does, making his heart skip a couple beats. He instinctively lets go of the arms, and they flop down to their original position. The staff major’s laughter echoes in surround sound. As for Angelo’s confidence? It diminishes.

“No, keep moving them around! Get comfy with ‘em.”

The young star ranger hesitantly picks up the handles again, and the arms jut out in front of him. He moves the right handle to the side. The Starwalker’s right arm follows. Angelo does the same with the left arm and gets similar results. Slowly, he wiggles them around, gradually getting more accustomed with the controls. These arms give him so much power. It frightens Angelo a little. Can he really be trusted with something like this?

“How does it feel?” the researcher asks him. “You like that?”

“I… I think so, yeah!” Angelo isn’t really sure how he feels, but wants to be nice.

“Alright, now I want you to gently push them forward. Not too fast now!”

As Angelo pushes the handles forward, the Starwalker’s arms begin to extend. Over the speakers, he can hear his various teammates react in awe. Even he has to admit this is pretty cool.

“Amazing!” Romero squeaks. “Okay, okay! Now pull them back!”

Angelo pulls the handles back, and the arms slowly retract to their original position. He smiles. This is kind of fun!

“Here’s where the real fun begins!” is the researcher’s next statement. “I want you to yank the handles forward as hard as you can! Can you do that?”

“I’ll try!”

“Start off with just one at a time!”

“Okay.”

The young ranger yanks forward the right handle. With a startling display of force, the machine’s right arm extends forward.

“He can punch??” Hearing Roxie’s voice so clearly made Angelo happy, even though he’s still completely horrified at what he just did. He continues to hear her and Leon happily freaking out.

“Of course, dear. I couldn’t call myself a roboticist if it didn’t! Anyway, son?” the staff major addresses Angelo. “Just play around with those features for a little bit, and then we can move on to the next thing!”

The young ranger obeys. Arms swing left, right, up, down, forward, and back as Angelo messes with the controls. It takes some urging from Romero, but he manages to get the ranger to try out the punch mechanic a few more times. It shakes the Starwalker a little each time, which Angelo doesn’t like. Far to his right, he can see the rest of the crew and the staff major. Leon and Roxie constantly cheer for him. If there’s anyone he wants to learn how to work this robot for, it’s them. He tries to wave at them with the robot, but they don’t notice since it’s not facing them.

“I think you’re ready to start walking now!” Staff Major Romero relays over the speakers. “So first thing’s first, turning! Step on the left foothold. It’s the thing holding your left foot in place.”

Angelo presses the right pedal by accident. To his horror, the machine begins walking forward. Space decreases rapidly between him and the wall. Too busy panicking to hear Romero’s warnings, the young ranger instead presses the left pedal. The Starwalker, still walking, turns counterclockwise. Angelo is now safe from the wall, but not from himself. His life flashes before his eyes as the robot picks up speed, moving in an ark towards another wall.

“I said let go of the pedals!!” Angelo is finally able to make out the researcher’s words.

Angelo’s legs spring up from both footholds. The Starwalker stops moving its legs, but a new problem arises. It’s skidding towards the wall. All the star ranger can do is look ahead, silently accepting his fate.

“Okay, okay, press the left pedal again, as hard as you can!”

The young ranger doesn’t make the same mistake twice. He presses the left pedal as told. He’s still skidding, but is now facing backwards.

“Now let go of it, and press the right pedal. Gently.”

Angelo obeys. The Starwalker begins to walk forward. When he realizes he’s not moving towards the wall anymore, he lets go of the right pedal. The robot comes to a halt. He’s alive, he’s safe, and he’s unharmed.

His brain didn’t get the memo, though

He would scream if he could, but his mouth is too busy hyperventilating. The inexperienced pilot feels at various parts of his upper body to determine if he’s still there and if his soul hasn’t ascended to a higher plane. He is, and it hasn’t, somehow.

“I’m alive…?” Angelo asks no one in particular.