It was so unbearably bright. This white filled room, with glowing lights, people peering over him... The boy hated it. It was nothing like the warm darkness before. So, he glared at the woman on the bed, holding him.
This earned a chuckle from her, and a man standing at her side.
"...Lucien, look at him. He's not even crying..." The woman's words were weak, but happy.
"Yes, I see him." The man, Lucien, laughed, "He has your glare."
Now two people in the room were glaring.
Lucien seemed to realize his mistake, and cleared his throat, before trying to change the subject. "...Er, well... What would you like to name the boy, dear?" He was answered with another glare, "That's Isolde to you, dear."
Her gaze turned back to the boy in her arms, softening as she thought for a moment. "...My shining knight." She finally breathed out, looking deep into the boy's eyes.
"...My Percival."
...
___________________________
"Percy? Percyyyyyy... Wake up, kiddo! We got work to do!" He woke, slowly, to the shark-like grin of Anima peering over him. There was no getting used to the sight- Not with her. Anima was one of the last of her race, eight feet tall and almost human, but not quite. Not uncanny, more an ethereal cheerfulness, with her constant smile, shifting blue-green hair, and eyes that glittered like stars.
Not to mention she had no concept of personal space at all.
"Ughhh... Gimme a minute..." Percival rolled over, intent on getting more sleep. However, Anima would not be deterred.
"Haha! Up ya get, sleepyhead!" Unceremoniously, she yanked the bed over him, all while smiling. It was easy to forget, since her race had such dense muscles, but this woman could crack iron like eggshells.
Equally as unceremoniously, Percy's head smacked onto the floor. He would not be sleeping in today.
Climbing out of the heap of blankets and pillows, the boy rubbed both his eyes and head equally. "Oww... You couldn't have been at all gentler, then...?" Percival was annoyed, as usual. He was answered with a laugh, and a wide, sharp-toothed grin from Anima. "Tough love, kiddo. We got work to do!" She picked Percy up by the sides, as one would a cat, or a particularly large toddler. "Vice Captain Percival, report to the bridge, effective immediately!" Anima's teasing imitation of Brooche was... Scarily spot on.
She allowed no other protests, hauling him in an underarm carry through the halls, humming an upbeat tune as she did. Brooche's ship, the Arcadia, was much different than the old Tessalian vessels the two were used to- The Arcadia was irregular, organic, a one of a kind ship. The corridors winded, as though the major systems were inputted without a thought for walkspace, hallways built around obstacles rather than planned out.
It took only a few minutes for the two to get to the door to the bridge, Anima still humming merrily as she entered the passkey into the panel.
Vwoosh
The door slid open with a hiss. Inside the bridge stood the Grand Admiral herself, Brooche Sy'lvik. Conversing with her in a friendly manner was Captain Ryn Calder, for what reason he was there, Percival did not know.
The boy was not given time to think at all, though, as Anima merrily dropped him onto the ground.
"Ugh-! ...Eh, ahem. You requested me, Grand Admiral?"
If there was one skill he had, it was Percy's ability for a quick recovery. One thing he could not recover from, unfortunately, was looking like he just rolled out of bed... Because he did.
"...No, d'Antoire." Brooche's voice was even harsher than her features. "I did not request you. Were it up to me, you'd be in the engine room. However, this man," She gestures to Captain Calder with a look of annoyance, "This man seems to think you deserve a test sooner than usual."
Percival looked between Brooche and Calder, bewildered. She... Was many, many ranks above him. Was this Captain truly so respected...? "Uh... Alright. I'm honored, Captain. But... Why now, specifically?"
Calder laughed, a good natured grin painting his aging features. "Why, you captured a Titania-class battleship! Not to mention, you've rallied what's left of Tessalia's Navy into a roving fleet... You're practically an Admiral already! Dare I say, a promotion may be in order as soon as the paperwork is finished..."
The paperwork Calder spoke of was the paperwork to transfer command officially of the so-called Roving Patriarch fleet- a mixed bag of mercenaries and old Tessalian officers without a government to command them, under the proprietary command of Percival- into the official databanks containing the list of fleets, ships, and soldiers a part of the Coalition of Free Starsystems.
Nothing the Captain said was untrue, necessarily, but Percival's actions had been misconstrued. He came under the command of that fleet out of necessity, befriended mercenaries out of nothing but chance, and, more recently, came upon that dreadnought out of pure, dumb luck.
At least, that was what he viewed it all as. It was always how his mind worked, to put it all up to chance so as to not grow an ego. However, this mentality came with consequences.
"Really, you flatter me, Captain," Percival wore his best smile. "What is this test you're talking about, then?"
A sigh from Brooche. Then, a bark of laughter from Calder. The Captain punched in some numbers on a nearby panel, and projected an image into the command room- an asteroid belt.
"Tolridian Matatrie. Also known as the Forsaken Wall of Matatrie. An asteroid belt so dense, if the rocks don't kill you, the swarms will." Calder's voice had taken on a more serious note, as though he knew firsthand how treacherous these asteroids were. "...However. In it, is an incredibly valuable spice known as Ecto." He turned to Percy, "...I'd like you to retrieve a shipment of that spice. It should be relatively safe, as long as you tread carefully and slowly... If you see signs of Confederate activity, you leave. Any questions?"
Percival grinned. This would be an easy test. "No, Captain. I'd be happy to do this much. ...You mentioned a promotion afterwards, yes?"
That got another laugh out of Calder. He was already beginning to grow on Percy. "Yes, yes, of course! An ambitious young man you are... Just like me, when I was younger. Yes, I'll get you a promotion. Just come back alive."
...
_________________________________
The sound of the ship's engines roared as its displacement drive activated, launching it across starsystems. It was small, maybe around the size of a small frigate, though its weapon systems had been all but stripped in favor of additional hangar bays. A 'fin' protruded from the bottom of the front of the ship, angled slightly, supplying extra engines and logistics. Truly, it was the perfect vessel for the delicate job at hand.
Not only that, but it was the last vessel larger than a traditional frigate to survive the bombing of Tessalia and the complete slaughter of its defence force.
This was the Starchaser, a modified Antioch-class destroyer.
Stars flitted by the viewport, as Percival stood staring off into empty space. It was something of a ritual for him- before every battle, every possible time a battle may occur, even, he must plan. He must prepare. Maybe... Maybe then-
"...Percy." Anima's voice made him jump. "I made you tea." The unusually tall woman was indeed holding a small cup. Her concern was written all over her face- she was never one to hide her emotions.
With a nod, Percy kept his eyes on the viewport. "I... Thank you, Ani." Yet he made no move to take the cup.
She noticed, obviously. However, Anima made no move to leave, either. "...I made it just for you, you know."
Another nod from Percival. "...Yes. I know. Thank you."
"..." She didn't say anything more. Anima set down the cup, needing to lean over to rest it on a table. She walked over to the boy, standing just behind him. Silently, comfortingly, she draped her arms over his shoulders.
Percival was no longer looking out the viewport.
...
_____________________________________________
"Forward shield at 70% integrity!" The sound of asteroids bouncing off the shields rumbled throughout the frigate, the technicians on the bridge working furiously to keep themselves afloat. "Redirect power from weapons! 60% charge!"
As all this was happening around him, Percy stood beside the holotable. It was projecting an image of the asteroid field, their ship but a small blip amidst it all. Almost there... Almost there...!
"Commander!" A technician ran up to Percival, "We're picking up another signal!"
The boy raised an eyebrow, "...Are you sure? Other than the shipment?"
"Yes sir! There's too many readings to be one freighter...!"
This was bad news. Best case scenario, it was a Matatrie swarm- named for the asteroid belt, small creatures that can drain a cruiser's reactor in minutes- worst case scenario...
Percy bit his lip, deep in thought. Either way, be it a Matatrie swarm or the worst case scenario, he was supposed to run... But-
"Get me a concentrated reading, corporal. Identify the threat."
The order was given. With a curt nod, the technician hurried off. Percival went back to studying the image, ever thoughtful. However, a hand slapping against his back would snap him out of it.
"Hey, there he is~ Mind tellin' me why everyone's so damn worried, princeling?" Sari leaned over the table curiously. Evidently, she had not paid attention to the report. Or she just didn't care. That was entirely possible.
"Matatrie swarms. At least, that's the best case scenario..." Noticing Sari's blank stare, Percival sighed, "...Lord Matatrie was a warlord a few centuries ago. He made a stand against a much larger force, here in this belt. He won the battle, at the cost of his life. The belt's named for him, and the swarms are named for the belt." It was the simplest way to explain it. "They feed on energy. If they latch onto this ship, our shields go down... Then we're sitting ducks to those asteroids."
"...Ah." Sari cleared her throat, "So... What's the worst case scenario, if that's the best...?"
Percy turned his attention back to the diagram, the group of readings drawing closer to their location. He let out a sigh, "...Worst case, it's the Confederation. That'd mean they know we're trying to get funds... And they'd know that I've officially joined the Coalition, putting me even higher on their priority list." It was a grim prospect, "I had hoped for a more grand first engagement... But, what better for a monumental battle than Tolridian Matatrie itself?"
"You're talking like you're sure it's the 'feds. Didn't you say it could be either a swarm or them? Why talk like it's a sure deal?"
"I am sure. There are multiple close knit signals... Swarms can't cooperate. Prepare the transmitter. I have a feeling we're going to be hailed soon."
A man nodded, and hurried to it.
It was tradition, to offer the other officer surrender before a battle began. More than tradition, it was the only thing keeping the Coalition being recognized as a faction and not a band of pirates. If an officer of the Coalition were to attack without offering quarter first... Many, many neutral governments would find it in their best interest to side with the Confederates. And with those governments, power.
Pzzt, Incoming Transmission
"Commander of this vessel, this is a restricted area. Leave now or you will be fired upon." The words came from a holographic image of a man, crisp and neat in his uniform, broadcasted onto the bridge of the frigate.
A deep breath. A slight nervous shake of his hand. Then, Percival stepped into view, head held high.
"Hello, Commander. May I have your rank and name?"
It was as by the book as one could go. Yet, the Confederate officer's eyes twitched in recognition. Percy took another breath, keeping his head up.
There was no going back now. Not out of this engagement, not out of this war, not out of this life... Maybe... Maybe if he'd disappeared instead of holding a grudge-
No. He wouldn't think like that. Even so, the die has been cast.
"...I am Lieutenant Kane Anderes of the 253rd Royal Wing of the Confederation."
"And I am Sir-, Vice Captain Percival d'Antoire of the 91st Light Division of the Coalition of Free Systems."
Both men curtly nodded at the others' introduction.
"...So I take it you will not surrender, Vice Captain."
It was not a question.
"That is correct, Lieutenant."
Finally, the transmitter shimmered off, the ghostly figure of Lieutenant Kane now gone from the Starchaser's bridge. Percival let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in, and immediately sprang into action.
"Drain all power from the weapons systems!" He walked as he barked out orders to the people amidst the ship, all of whom began to scramble to their stations. "Knock out the engines, and engage emergency life support! I want us dead in space!" Percy couldn't possibly hope to win a full battle. It was a single modified destroyer and a miniscule air wing against a full Confederate patrol.
Luckily, Vice Captain Percival d'Antoire had a plan.
__________________________________
"...So. You've finally played your hand, Florelle," Lieutenant Kane muttered to himself, staring out at the asteroid field, "3 years at Millenium Naval Academy, 1 year active service... And 2 years a pirate."
"Sir!" A man called up to Kane, "We've got a lock on their signature! They appear to be hiding behind a piece of debris... We can't see their fighters, though!" It was enough to snap the Lieutenant out of his thoughts. He nodded, and looked down at the holographic map. It was true- one large energy signature behind a cluster of debris.
If this was his plan, Kane thought, perhaps all those years of service really didn't amount to anything. After all, he was only ☓☓☓☓☓☓☓☓☓ ☓☓☓☓☓ ☓☓☓.
"Launch fighters. Encircle them from the port and starboard sides, and send the Vanity and the Night over. Keep us back, and begin bombarding the debris." A classic strategy. Tried and true, nearly foolproof... Which is why it was so widely used.
But widely used meant widely known. And if there exists a strategy... There exists a counter.
And if there exists a counter?
Then there exists a victory.
_________________________________
Bzzz. Bzzz.
"Damn... Green Leader, you sure this'll work? Bugs 're chewing up my wiring."
"Is it essential?"
"Eh? Nah, just the shielding."
"Hahaha, you sure that's not essential?! You're gettin' blown to high hell today, Doodle!"
"Shut it, Clover. The only guys who need shields are the guys who're gonna be dyin' anyway!"
"Yeah? Sounds like my point still stands! Hahaha!"
"Quiet, you two. We're still waiting for the signal."
"...Right. Sorry, Green Leader..."
"Yeah, yeah, got it..."
It was nothing more than nervous chatter over the transmitter. Some people went off to private channels, while a select few stayed on main. Some even meditated. Yet not one was idle. For if they were idle now, the trepidation would set in. A strategy like this is absurd... Completely suicidal, even.
However.
One man felt not an ounce of worry in him.
Just cold, calm certainty.
________________________________________________
Fwoom, fwoom, fwoom
Sounds of guns firing against rock echoed dully in the light atmosphere of the debris field.
Lieutenant Kane was calm. This assignment was downright boorish. What should he expect, Kane thought, from a glorified band of pirates? "Systems check. How long until that debris is cleared?"
A woman looked up, "Just under four minutes, Sir!"
"Good. Carry on."
He was curt. But calm. There was no way to lose. No possible way. Kane's forces outnumbered them three to one, had better weapons, better shields, better foresight-
"Commander!" This time, Kane looked, too, at the sound of the technician's voice. "There's... We have incoming! Matatrie swarm, approaching the Vanity!"
"...No." His eyes widened, "That's not a swarm." For once, his composure wavered. "Recall fighters! Recall fighters now!"
Yet even as Lieutenant Kane of the 253rd Royal Wing of the Confederation whirled around shouting orders, he knew it was too late.
For there, on the holomap, was the signature of two dozen small fighters followed by two Corvette sized ships, approaching from the flank.
From their Blindspot.
From where there was nothing before.
Lieutenant Kane had underestimated the boy.
Lieutenant Kane had no more time for thought, as he was engulfed in a storm of fire.
...
The battle was decisive. For the Confederate patrol, the Vanity and the Nemesis, both type-C battle destroyers, were destroyed, along with about three quarters of their fighter wing. On the Coalition's side, a single Ravyn gunboat was lightly damaged.
An overwhelming victory.
Percival let out a breath in front of his mirror. He brought his hand up to his neck, and loosened the tight collar of the crisp military uniform Brooche had made him wear.
It was a good day.
Anima had been busy after the battle with repairs. Sari was probably bothering some poor gunnery sergeant somewhere.
Captain Calder had patted him on the back with a smile. I knew you could do it, he said.
Brooche was angry. Percy had taken a huge gamble and disobeyed direct orders. But, she said, due to the existence of the Flying Medal, any major victory would result in an immediate promotion for the commanding officer of the battle.
Captain Percival d'Antoire.
He looked at his hair, at his cheeks- was that a pimple or a bruise?-, his eyes- is there enough makeup to cover the red?-,
As soon as he gets back to the Arcadia, he gets his own fleet back.
Lieutenant Colonel Percival d'Antoire.
He took another breath.
Have the lights always been so bright?
Thump. Thump. Thump.
That was the sound of his heartbeat. Is it visible through his uniform?
It is in the mirror.
What's that ringing?
Another breath. Too fast. Now the makeup's ruined. Stop. Stop. Stop.
So wipe it off. No, he couldn't do that...
Thump. Thump. Thump.
It was so loud in his ears.
The uniform dug into his skin. It hurts. It hurts. Get it off.
His fingers tightened on the edge of the counter.
One, two, three, release... One, two, three, release...
Breathe. He has to breathe.
Percy's hands are holding his face now. How did that happen? He didn't know.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The makeup's on his hands now. Running down his arms. His sleeves are ruined.
So get a new uniform. No, he couldn't-...
There's no more makeup.
The water isn't running. Why can he hear it?
Another breath. And another.
His hair is ruined.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
It was a good day.
He's getting a medal.
Father would be proud.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Father-
Mother-
Ani-
Someone.
Please. Please, please, please.
Someone help him.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Who is that in the mirror?
Who.
Who is it.
That's not him.
Why is it so blurry.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
An overwhelming victory.