The two mecha's slowly and carefully made their way up a hill. The hill was bare, with nothing more than a few tufts of grass and several rock outcroppings.
One of the mecha's metallic feet scraped against a rock, and it stumbled, though quickly righted itself.
The bodies of these 'mechas' were ellipsiod and egg shaped. They were six feet long, three feet wide, and shaped flat at the bottom. The front of the body had two bullet proof wind shields for the pilot to see through. They were both held up by four foot tall mech legs. Each mecha had machine guns mounted on their shoulders, and a Hellfire Missil Module to carry six missiles, one on either side of the mecha's body.
Despite these similarities, both of the mecha's had slight differences. One was slightly taller and slimmer, covered in camoflouge colors. The other was shorter, a shiny silver-blue color. It seemed to have a sense of power in contrast to the others' elegance and surer footing.
But each mecha, on it's left side, had a logo, the logo of the Engineers Guild. A gear, caught in red crosshairs.
One of the mechas, the silver one, cackled in static in an attemtp to communicate. Finally, he got through.
"This is Goliath to Omega. Omega, do you read?"
"Roger, Goliath," Omega responded. "I hear you loud and clear."
"Good to gear, Thom," said Goliath. "'Cause for a while, I wasn't getting anything through. There's still a few things I need to do to Goliath..."
Thom was a close friend of Goliath's pilots, and could hear the unspoken question. "Now, Skan," said Thom, "we still have a job to do. When we get back to the Guild, we can have Seth take a look."
"I was just saying..." mumbled Skan. "Besides, I can take care of Goliath myself!"
Skan and Thom fell in silence as they continued making there way up the hill.
Both of the mechas circled back, covering dozens of miles in their search. They made a rendevous back at the Guild.
The Engineers Guild.
Skan piloted Goliath to it's paddock. He grabbed his tan trench coat from a hook inside the cockpit, and two red whips from under the seat. The handle of the whips were firmly attached to two loops at Skan's sides, for easy grabbing for use.
Skan ran a hand through his blue hair, which hung almost to his shoulders. Then he scratched the back of his neck and began walking towards the cafeteria, where he was to meet his friends.
As he travelled down the hallway, everyone who saw him would offer a, "Hello, Mr. Erreden!" or a "Good morning, Skan!" or another similar greeting. Skan would just nod and smile, but say nothing.
The quiet of the hallway exploded as Skan opened the cafeteria doors. People were arguing, laughing, and even an occasional fight broke out. In the far back was a higher table, of finer wood than the rest. It was equipped qith several chairs, with plush red padding. Three of the seats were already occupied. One of the men there, a tall red headed man, stood up and waved Skan over. As if he needed to be invited to his own table!
Skan made his way over, snatching up a burger and a juice, for his dinner. He sat down and guzzled half of the orange juice, and eloquently belched. Loudly. Two of the three men laughed.
One of the men-with dark black hair that held a streak of red, wearing a dark blue business suit-said, "Well, Skan, that's some proper manners for the leader of the Engineers Guild!"
Skan glared at the man, Teron, beofre taking a bite of his burger. "Well, I see that you kept up your manners, Mr. Turk, kept your uniform pretty and clean! Wouldn't want Shinra booting ya out, huh?"
Another of the men, a good foot taller than Skan's 5'10", scowled at his drink, and Skan wished he hadn't said that last part. Neisemeisho was a SOLDIER, an elite fighting group from Shinra. At least, he used to be, until he quit.
"Well," said Thom, the red haired man who piloted the mecha earlier on, "did you find any good digging sites?"
Skan shook his head. "'Fraid not. How about you?" Thom shook his head. Skan tried to take another bite, then realized his burger was gone. He was hungry! He signalled for some fries, which were brought to him within seconds. Skan shifted to a more comfortable position, and Neisemeisho looked up to make sure he wasn't going anywhere.
Skan sighed. "For years, for CENTURIES, the Guild has dug up or otherwise found old, dead technology. You know, the Ancient Past had far greater technology, it's basically where we get ours, and since we supply the world with technology...For years we have restored the technology to perfect use, and mass produced it for the world, but...
"For years, that damn Bart's Company, still led by Rudvich's scions, screws us up!" said Skan, slamming his fist on the table. Everyone jumped, startled.
There was a long, uncomfotable silence. Skan ignored his fries. Finally, it was broken.
"Konnichawa...Skan.." said Neisemeisho, leaning forward. "I have an idea..."