[Pilot, you did not attend the dinner as ordered last night.] Andromeda's mechanical voice droned in my earpiece, tinged with a note of disapproval.
"You already knew I wasn't going to waste time at something like that," I muttered, walking down the corridor with my pilot helmet hooked onto the boost-pack buckled around my waist. The halls were quiet—until a sudden rush of footsteps echoed through the space.
Cadets sprinted past me, their hurried chatter filling the air. One nearly collided with my shoulder, too focused on the excitement ahead to care.
I grabbed the next person who rushed by. "Where's everyone running to?"
"A fight broke out in the cafeteria! We're going to go watch!" The boy shouted over his shoulder before disappearing into the hurrying crowd.
I exhaled, watching the flow of bodies head in the same direction. 'This early in the morning?'
[I recommend informing the instructors, Pilot,] Andromeda suggested. [With the end of training so near, it would be unwise for cadets to risk injury before the duels between training facilities.]
I resumed my walk toward the cafeteria. "How likely is it that the Major-General orchestrated this? He likes combat drills between cadets."
The beetle-shaped AI on my hip hummed in thought. [His philosophy aligns with the phrase 'iron sharpens iron.' However, there is no logic in dulling a blade before its first true use.]
I smirked. "Nice wordplay, Andy." Taking a deep breath, I adjusted my pace. "Let's just grab breakfast and head back to my room after seeing who it is. I still need to brush my teeth."
The cafeteria was in chaos. Cheers and the sharp clash of metal rang through the air, the crowd thick and eager. I grabbed a breakfast bar from the counter and climbed onto a bench to get a better look.
Two cadets were locked in a brutal knife fight—rank-2 and rank-23. The latter was using her tray as a shield while rank-2 slashed at her with an actual combat knife.
I frowned. This wasn't just a sparring match.
"Never thought you'd be one to snoop. Should've come to the dinner party last night instead."
A familiar voice pulled my attention. I glanced down to see an old friend staring up at me with a smirk. "Sam."
"You're always about 'efficiency this' and 'efficiency that.' Didn't think I'd see you playing spectator."
Hopping down from the bench, I placed my hands behind my back. "I was just worried you and Zero were taking your rivalry too far. Like you always do."
[Hello, CK-17Draco.] Andromeda's wings buzzed slightly in greeting.
[Stop being so friendly, bug.] Sam's AI companion, Draco, hissed from the card-mode socketed on his right forearm. [I'll claw you apart the first chance I get!]
[Still bitter about our last exchange? That was two-and-a-half centuries ago, CK-17. Holding a grudge this long is irrational.]
Sam raised an eyebrow. "You two fought?"
Draco growled in our earpieces. [Damn right we did! My pilot and his were on opposite sides of a civil war. Lucky for him, my operator back then was an idiot with zero combat skills. But now that I have a real pilot, we'll see if he can still look me in the optics during the duels!]
[Incorrect,] Andromeda countered smoothly. [The exam is a contest between pilots from the ten training facilities. We are on the same team.]
Growling, Draco erupted with frustration. [Motherfucker! Stop being a calculator and just fight me mech to mech!]
I sighed and tapped Andromeda's shell, lowering the volume just as Sam did with Draco, letting the two knight-mechs argue without us. "Draco is... intense, isn't he?"
"Tell me about it." Sam ran a hand through his hair. "His firepower is his pride, and his ego is at least three times the size of mine because of it. Unless I'm the one piloting, he barely listens to commands. Makes it impossible to get a rating higher than a B in the sim cabin's harder missions." He exhaled sharply before shifting the topic, giving me a once-over. "Did you get shorter?"
I shot him a glare. "I'm five-foot-seven. You're the one who got taller, dragon boy. We were almost the same height four years ago. How tall are you now?"
"Six-foot, according to last month's medical scan." He stretched out an arm to the side, casually grabbing a breakfast bar. We both ignored the escalating fight behind us. "Anyway, hear anything about today's schedule?"
"Nothing that no one else hasn't been told already. The instructor yesterday only mentioned the main base, so I assumed we'd be taken on another aircraft carrier—"
Something whistled through the air. A knife. Before it could impale either of us, my hand shot out, catching it by the handle mid-flight.
"Hmm."
Sam and I both turned toward the source. Rank-2, breath hitching in relief that no one got hurt, but had no time to react before Rank-23 slammed a tray into her face.
"You idiot! You should count your graces the Empress didn't smite you where you stand!"
Rank-2 hit the floor, clutching her nose. Rank-23 promptly dropped the tray on her head for good measure before turning toward me, eyes darting over my face. I had just started using the knife to cut open my breakfast bar when she grabbed me.
"Are you alright? Any cuts or—"
She paused, her gaze locking onto mine, something strange and unreadable flickering across her expression before she blurted out, "Adorable... You are so cute and adorable!"
"Ah?"
Before I could react, she smashed her face against mine, preventing me from taking a bite.
"Uhm... er... thanks?"
"Oooh~ I just wanna' keep you and cuddle you in my bed like a fluffy teddy bear! Ah!"
I froze.
This—this was completely uncharted territory for me.
[Pilot, your heart rate has spiked and your brainwaves are scattered. Are you in distress?]
Andromeda's voice crackled in my earpiece, concern lacing his usually measured tone. [I will send a hail to the attacker's Knight to have their pilot cease.]
"I... uh..."
I had no idea how to answer that. This hug was too tight to be an attack, yet not crushing enough to be purely friendly. What the hell was I supposed to do?
"Umm, Freya?" Sam, barely holding back laughter, tapped her shoulder. "You're scaring the mechanical teddy bear."
Freya immediately let go, stepping back with an embarrassed gasp. "Ah! I am so—so sorry!" She clasped her hands together, her face an odd mix of panic and delight. "You just look so sweet, and I couldn't help myself, and—"
"I-I get it." I raised a hand, begging her to stop before she could embarrass us both any further. "Just... took me by surprise." I turned and shot a glare at the onlookers, who quickly averted their gazes, pretending to focus on their meals. "Thank you for your concern, though."
"I'm Rank-23, Freya. I already know who you are, Firefly, but you were never this sparkly the last time I saw you four years ago," she said with overwhelming enthusiasm—far too much for me to handle.
The thought of meeting this girl earlier crossed my mind, and I couldn't help but wonder whether I would have survived being smothered like that before. It was a terrifying and foreign experience. Also, her breasts were much bigger than mine.
I had no idea why that observation made my ego shrink, but it did. I should of thought of it more of a tactical disadvantage than anything else.
"Hey!" Sam bonked Freya on the top of the head, snapping her attention toward him. "What got you and Georgie fighting so early in the morning?"
"I'd tell you if I knew." Freya threw her hands up, exasperated. "Right after she walked in while I was eating breakfast with my group, she pulled out a knife and attacked me out of nowhere! I tried to calm her down, but after her knife nearly hit Firefly's scrumptious little face, I ended it."
Seeing the hungry look in her eyes, I promptly hid behind Sam and focused on finishing my breakfast bar without interruption.
Noticing my distress, Sam leaned down. "She's crazy about cute things. Keep your distance, or she might actually bite you."
"I will not!... Maybe a little," Freya admitted, staring at me with an almost predatory gleam. "Your cheeks look like marshmallows—ehehe~!"
Seeing that she wasn't joking, I swiftly used Sam as a human shield. What followed was a ridiculous game of cat and mouse as I darted around him, breakfast bar in hand, while Freya relentlessly tried to capture me.
"Let me hug you~!"
"Attention, cadets!"
The instructor's sharp command cut through the cafeteria, immediately silencing the chaos. He glanced at Rank-2 still sprawled on the floor but ignored her, continuing as if nothing was amiss.
"At oh-eight-hundred hours, head to the outdoor training grounds and board the carrier to be taken to the main base! Pack all your belongings—you will not be returning to Fallen Moon facility!"
With that, he turned and left. A wave of murmurs swept through the cafeteria.
"Finally, we're leaving this place."
"Seven years... and it's all been worth it."
"My parents are going to be so proud to see me become a pilot."
Fights breaking out in the facility were normal—practically routine—so it made sense that the instructor ignored Rank-2 still groaning on the floor. Though, he was probably at least mildly surprised. Someone was going to have to help her pack if she didn't wake up soon.
"That's only forty-five minutes..." Freya groaned as she checked the wall clock. "I've got a lot to pack, so I'll see you later, Firefly~!"
As she exited the cafeteria, she blew me a kiss. A full-body shudder ran down my spine.
Finally able to enjoy some peace, I let out a relieved sigh and calmly finished my breakfast.
"You're not going to pack?" Sam asked as he unwrapped his own breakfast bar.
"Everything I own is already with me." I shrugged. "As an AKP unit, I'm not particularly materialistic. I don't even know what there is to ask for. Everything I've ever heard about the outside world has only come from Traveler's stories about the cities and farms out there. Other than my bedding, washing utensils, and pillow, I have nothing to pack because I don't know what there is to want."
Sam's gaze swept over my gear—my leather jacket, pilot helmet, booster pack, knife, and the standard-issue clothes we'd all been given seven years ago and a stolen skirt and blouse. His expression twisted into something resembling concern.
"That's... kind of sad," he admitted. "All of that was given to us at the start of training."
"Don't remind me," I muttered.
"Since that's the case—" He quickly finished his breakfast bar and gestured for me to follow. "Want to help me pack? I bought a few comics with my merits from the weekly contests. You might like them."
I tilted my head at him. "What's a comic?"
Sam visibly restrained himself from reacting too dramatically. "Think of it like a manual, but with pictures and meant for entertainment. I forgot—you only read training instructions."
The idea didn't sound particularly interesting, so I shook my head. "I'll be fine. I'm just going to head straight to the transport after brushing my teeth. Might as well get a good seat."
"Alright." He stood up and stretched. "Save me a spot nearby, will you?"
"Okay." I waved him off and finished the last of my tasteless breakfast. Looking around, I realized only a handful of people were still lingering in the cafeteria.
[Pilot, it would have been beneficial to accept Pilot Sam's invitation to assist in his packing.]
Annoyed by Andromeda's unsolicited input, I rolled my eyes. "Stop meddling in my social life, Andy."
With that, I headed for the outdoor training field.