Entering the lodge, I spotted the commander behind the bar, drinking straight from a carton of strawberry milk while shifting around beer bottles. "Commander Peter," I greeted, settling softly onto a barstool. "Miss Maya said you wanted to see me?"
"Just Peter is fine." Wiping the milk from his lips, he crushed the carton effortlessly in his large hand. "Despite this being a military base, it's far from it, as you've probably noticed." Leaning across the bar, his sharp gaze flicked to my combat overalls—or rather, the absence of them beneath my clothes. "Figured I'd explain what Rogue Raven really is before you properly enlist."
I met his eyes, silently questioning his meaning.
"In your own words," Peter continued, "after meeting the people here, after seeing the dust settling in this place... what kind of battalion do you think it is?"
I thought it over before answering. "A special task force. That's how the archive database described it."
Pouring a golden-hued drink into a glass, Peter pressed further. "And what did the other records call this place?"
"A graveyard," I said grimly. "Where pasts and ideals go to die."
Peter nodded. "Yeah. More than a few spirited souls thought they could make it here. Nothing left of them but their dog tags now. The ones who remain are those who've survived death more than once." Pushing the drink toward me, he continued, "You came here looking for a fresh start. Others, like Nicole, had no choice."
I glanced over my shoulder. Nicole was still glued to her phone, casually blowing a pink bubble-gum bubble before it popped.
"Then there are the rare few who get dragged in by the vice-commander or the general," Peter went on. "Or the ones abandoned here by their own battalions. That broody kid, Jason—you've met him. A prime example." He sighed, tilting his head slightly. "I—"
"You're about to tell me to leave," I interrupted.
Peter blinked, caught off guard at how easily I read him.
"And I'm going to tell you I won't," I continued. "Then you'll say I don't understand this place just because I read a few reports—and you'd be right. You can't know anything about something just from rumours. My teacher taught me that."
Peter exhaled sharply, dipping his chin into his chest for a moment before looking back up. "Rogue Raven is a place for outcasts. You're a smart girl, so you know what I'm saying. Don't throw away your future just to prove something to yourself."
I smiled. That seemed to catch him off guard the most. "You know I'm an AKP, don't you, Commander?" I asked. "I already told you that I'm a defective AKP. I've been an outcast since the moment I stepped out of my pod. My own sisters tried to kill me. The teachers shunned me. Some nights, I had to sleep in the forest just to avoid getting beaten awake by the other pilot cadets."
Peter listened intently. I was pretty sure Nicole had paused her game to listen, too.
"I'm not asking for your sympathy," I chuckled. "It wouldn't do either of us any good. I just want you to understand—everything you think is 'special' about me? It was nothing but a miracle."
Peter leaned in slightly, his voice lowering. "What kind of defect is it?"
"My multi-Knight-link brain chip doesn't work. My body was weaker than standard at first, but I pushed myself past it. Unlike other AKPs who can carry five times their weight, I... I'm just a little faster, a little more tactical. I have a bit more spiritual energy. That's all." I paused, then added, "My teacher recognized that. He trained me differently. He was the first person who actually wanted me to live. Before him, I was just a failure."
"You worked through it." Peter's expression was unreadable, but his words held weight. "You can thank your teacher all you want, but the truth is, you're an elite soldier because of your own effort. A different battalion would be better for you. This place will chew you up and spit out your bones with no thanks."
I knew he was trying to warn me. But I also knew something he didn't.
"I don't want to protect the galaxy, Commander," I said softly. "I want to protect what's beautiful in it."
Peter stiffened. Around the room, there were a few sharp intakes of breath from those who had been eavesdropping.
"If I die next to a single flower, I'll be grateful for the view," I continued. "For as long as I can remember, people expected me to die—at their whims, for their reasons. Let me live fighting for my own wishes. Please, Commander."
Peter scratched his head fiercely, as if physically trying to shake off his frustration. He was searching for another argument, but he already knew it wouldn't work. Finally, with a sharp exhale, he slammed his fist against the bar making me jump.
"...The refining of pilot training hasn't dulled since my time, judging by what you just said," he muttered. "Damn hellhole." He exhaled sharply, giving in. "Fine. I won't tell you to leave anymore. But you'd better expect to lose your sanity eventually."
I smiled cheerfully. "According to my teacher, I was made without any."
Peter let out a short, irritated laugh. "I think I get what he meant." Huffing at his failure, he grabbed the apple juice he had prepared for me and drank it himself. "Everyone here is 'defective' in some way, so you'll fit right in. Also—" His voice turned sharp. "Everyone currently watching—buzz off!"
At his command, the back door slammed shut, and hurried footsteps scattered overhead. I giggled, wiping a tear from my eye. "I think Traveler would've liked this place," I mused. "By the way, Commander... how long has it been since you left the pilot training program?"
"Nearly sixteen years ago. Same batch as Tony. Monica was from the batch before yours—eight years ago." Peter paused, then seemed to recall something. "Right. Got a message from them earlier. They had to visit Palace-World. Won't be back for another week. You should find something to pass the time while you're here. Any thoughts? Or would you like a recommendation?"
I tapped my chin in thought. Traveling between warships, I usually spent my time either roaming the halls, studying ways to upgrade Andromeda, or doing basic exercises to stay in shape. But something else came to mind.
A small smile tugged at my lips. "I think I'll try making a garden."
***
Ambling through the gilded corridor, its walls drenched in crimson and gold, the man beside me let out a long sigh.
"Is this really so urgent that the Empress had to summon every battalion leader?" Tony grumbled, rolling his shoulders. "I just want to sit down after handling that swarm surge."
"It was an imperial edict, Tony. Stop your nonsense and act like an adult," I scolded, keeping my pace steady.
Tony chuckled, undeterred. "Now, is that any way to address your senior, Ice Queen? You're just upset you can't meet our new junior yet, aren't you?" He gave my back a hearty pat before laughing again. "Haha! Relax, it'll only take a few hours. Besides, if the Empress is calling back nearly all the Constellation Knights, it must be serious."
We rounded a bend in the marble-floored corridor, approaching the towering doors of the royal hall. There, two familiar figures awaited—Commanders from Whistling Claw and Vibrio Hawk. One of them, a perpetually grinning woman with striking auburn hair, waved us over.
"Hey! Been a while, you two!"
"Utonia!" Tony grinned, bumping arms with her as they shared a quick laugh. "Been too long, you slimy hawk. I heard you reclaimed another solar system from the Dream Swarm?"
"We had a bit of trouble," Utonia admitted, "but thanks to that assassin of yours, Tony, we found an opening. He took out the cultist spy responsible for sabotaging half the operation, which let us flush out the broodmothers onto the planet's surface. After that, it was just a clean-up job."
I kept my gaze on the rest of the gathered generals, noting how many of them deliberately avoided looking our way. Nothing unusual, given our reputations.
"We'll be sure to pass along your thanks when we return to the compound," I said.
"Appreciated, Monica." Utonia's smirk never wavered. "But tell me—have you heard why the Empress called us all here?"
Tony and I exchanged glances before shaking our heads.
Utonia's grin faded. "Apparently, the Dream Swarm has started mutating. A mutant KnightMare was killed by one of the new Constellation Knights."
A chill settled over me. "That's... troubling."
"If they're mutating," I continued, my voice sharper now, "that means they're preparing for another mass infestation—like the one 300 years ago."
"Exactly," Utonia said grimly. "My battalion picked up the corpse from Fenrir's team at Helios Station a few days ago. We delivered it here for analysis. Whatever they found must be serious enough to summon us all."
"The next few months won't be easy," Tony muttered just as footsteps echoed down the corridor.
Jackson Foster, the only Constellation Knight of his battalion, approached with a cluster of ministers at his side. Tony immediately tensed, his easy-going demeanour vanishing.
"Tch! Of course that glib-tongued bastard had to come," he hissed under his breath.
At the back of the ministerial crowd, I caught sight of the commanders from Harmonic Pack and Viper Horn battalions. They looked less than thrilled to be indulging the incessant babbling of politicians.
"Careful he doesn't hear you, Tony," Utonia warned. "Lately, the ministers have been throwing their support behind him—especially that cunning snake, Minister Whalen. Don't know what Foster's planning, but with backing like that, he could cut off your battalion's funding with a single decree."
Before we could discuss further, a soldier in noble military dress pushed open the throne room doors from within, stepping aside to let us in.
"The Empress awaits. Now that all generals of the Knight Battalions have gathered, you may enter."
Without hesitation, the thirteen Constellation Knight generals strode forward, leaving the ministers behind.
All except one.
Minister Whalen, shadowing Jackson Foster, entered alongside us.
The royal guards stiffened but said nothing. The doors groaned shut behind us, sealing us within the throne hall.
At the very back of the chamber, veiled by an ethereal white curtain, the silhouette of the Empress shone like a spectre. We halted twenty feet from the throne, standing in rigid formation before saluting in unison.
"Glory to the Brightest Star! The Empress Lucione Aina Trigrata the First!"
She raised a hand, a simple gesture that carried absolute command. "Thank you all for heeding my summons."
Her voice was both gentle and unyielding, like silk over steel.
"I trust you all have some idea of why I've called you here. It concerns the mutant KnightMare that Constellation Knight Andromeda's new pilot secured while assisting in the evacuation of my forces from Sorfex."
Silence reigned. None of us dared to interrupt. The four imperial guards stationed throughout the hall—all Constellation Knight pilots themselves—would tolerate no disrespect.
"General Tony Gregoria. Vice-Commander Monica Dubois."
The Empress's voice turned toward us.
"It is unfortunate that Commander Peter Frieden could not attend, but as he is currently overseeing the induction of Andromeda's new pilot, I understand his absence."
"Thank you for your mercy, Your Majesty," I replied smoothly, while beside me, Tony blinked as though hearing this for the first time.
The Empress gave a slight nod before turning to a scientist standing behind her throne. "Doctor Evelyn, present your findings."
The woman stepped forward, tapping at her tablet before a large holographic projection flickered to life. A grotesque, twisted form took shape—a KnightMare, but not like any we had seen before.
Its limbs were elongated, its carapace thicker, and its mandibles had evolved into something far more horrifying.
"This is the mutant KnightMare that CK-14 retrieved from Sorfex," Doctor Evelyn began. "A speed-type combatant capable of reaching 200 miles per hour within three strides. DNA analysis has revealed a 13% similarity to human genetic material."
A shocked murmur rippled through the hall.
"What?" Minister Whalen, uncharacteristically rattled, took a step forward.
Doctor Evelyn continued. "For years, we've observed subtle genetic shifts within the Dream Swarm—previous anomalies exhibited no more than 2% similarity to human DNA. But this... this is a leap. A deliberate evolution.
"In fact, the pulmonary organ of this specimen shows marked similarities to those recorded in the original KnightMares—the ones converted into Constellation Drives. However, when we attempted to replicate that process, the organ self-incinerated."
"That's enough," the Empress declared.
Doctor Evelyn bowed and retreated behind the throne.
The Empress's voice carried through the hall like a blade being drawn from its sheath.
"You understand what this means. An Eighth Great War against the Dream Swarm is no longer a possibility—it is an inevitability."
No one spoke. We already knew what was coming.
"With our forces spread thin combating the insurgents in the Greyrot Quadrant, I fear we will not be able to defend ourselves in time." The weight of her words pressed upon us. We were ready for the next command. "This is my decree: Within the next ten years, all battalions—excluding Viper Horn—will eliminate the rebels known as Freiheit. They have refused my every offer for peace, spreading outrageous claims of my tyranny. From this day forward, I give you permission to show them what true tyranny looks like."
"As you command, Empress!" we roared in unison.
"Go now," she ordered, "and may my stars bless you with victory."
We turned to leave, but as we stepped through the threshold, I caught a glimpse of someone unexpected.
A solitary figure leaned casually against a pillar in the far end of the hall, watching us with an unseen gaze. A ghost of the past. The Traveler.
Minister Whalen stiffened, paling. "What's he doing back from the Obscure Quadrant?"
The Traveler walked past us, heading toward the throne. Just before the doors shut behind us, I caught the last thing he said. "Spring has arrived, I see."
Something about the way he said it sent a chill down my spine.