"So... are you going to say anything?" Torumud grunted as he cranked at the undercarriage of the old Destrier with a socket wrench. "You've been standing there for two hours, haven't said a word. You could at least ask for a cup of coffee."
Leaning on an old, rusty tool cabinet, Aurin took a drag from his cigarette and rubbed his eyes. The sapphire eyes of the tiger were flashing in his mind, and the sounds of the ice spike tearing into flesh seemed to still be in Aurin's ears... the screams and guns going off, shells hitting the dirt.
Only, he wasn't able to differentiate the events of last night from the hellish battlefields of Khagilos. It was all the same, rolling up into one. It just an amorphous beast sitting on his back, making him tired and paranoid.
He stared outside at the prairie stretching out past the road, watching the grass sway in the wind and the heat rising up from the road. It was an unbearably bright day, the kind where little kids chased after ice cream and young women sun-bathed beside the water. Today, Aurin thought about death.
Sensing movement in the corner of his eye, he saw a little dog peek his head out from around the Destrier, and sniff the bumper. When it laid eyes on Aurin, it cowered and slunk away, tail tucked in its legs.
Torumud slid out on his dolly, and lifted his goggles, giving Aurin an incredulous look from a face encrusted in grime. The old man was short but stocky, covered in bulging muscles and tattoos- he had a shiny bald head and a long salt-and-pepper beard that had grown down past his collarbone. "Wait... did you... did you walk here? All the way from the old Frameyards?"
Aurin said nothing, only took another drag.
"Your legs ought to be killing you. Sit down, kid... Aeos' mercy, sit down, you're gonna give me a fit." Torumud slid back under the car. "And make yourself a cup of coffee, you look like a sack of crap."
"I'm used to it," Aurin murmured. "Besides, gravity's 'lil higher on Khagilos."
"Yeah, well, this ain't Khagilos. This is civilized society. You don't have to hoof it around everywhere." Torumud chuckled and tightened another bolt. "All right, well, almost done anyway..."
"Last night was..." Aurin croaked, holding the smoke in his lungs, and exhaled. "It was a thing."
"You're telling me. Coming in here covered in blood, looking like you'd seen a ghost." Torumud spat, as a bit of hydraulic fluid spilled onto his mouth. "What're you gonna tell Eighto?"
"The truth, I guess."
"Well, that's real noble of you, kid. I hope he's willing to lend you an ear, 'cuz uh..." Torumud chuckled gravely. "The rest of us are screwed."
"I'm sorry."
"Nah, ain't your fault," Torumud said. "That's what the Father got for hiring a junkie. You did what you were hired to do."
Somehow, this didn't ease Aurin's mind... however, he appreciated Torumud's words. The gruff biker was probably the only person that didn't just see Aurin as a loaded gun. Or, maybe he did and showed the appropriate respect for something that could easily blow your head off.
"You sure this'll make the trip?" Aurin asked.
"This ol' thing?" Torumud grunted, strong-arming the bolt in place. "I know of some snails that have better acceleration, and the engines run a 'lil hot, but she's reliable. Trust me. They don't make 'em like this anymore."
"I trust you," Aurin said.
"Welp," Torumud groaned and rolled himself out from under the Destrier. His back cracked as he took Aurin's hand to stand back up. He grabbed a rag from the nearby workbench to wipe his hands off. "Should be good for a test drive, if you wanna give 'er a whirl."
"No," Aurin said, and put the cigarette out in a nearby ashtray. "I'll take it now."
"Well... suit yourself." Torumud looked Aurin up and down, and cranked the car jack, lowering the Destrier. "What're you gonna do after?'
"What do you mean?"
"After this job. Are you gonna go back to Azimuth? Look for some more work? Maybe make good with Eighto again?"
The idea of an "after" hadn't even crossed Aurin's mind. In fact, it was hard to imagine any sort of future existing past the next few moments. His past self would be surprised that he'd even made it to the age of twenty-six, let alone make it out of the Sea of Bones. Karma seemed to give him a wide berth, and justice obviously didn't exist.
"I'll play it by ear," Aurin replied.
"You, uh... you do that, lad." Torumud smiled, and reached to pat Aurin on the shoulder... his hand hovered for a moment, and then he retracted it. He dropped a key fob into Aurin's hand. "Well, uh, see ya when I see ya, I guess."
"Yep," Aurin said and opened the car door. He placed the black briefcase in the passenger seat and turned the ignition. The Destrier's engines turned over, and whirring, the old hover-car lifted off the floor of the garage, kicking up dust and making Torumud's greasy apron billow.
"Hey, you forgetting something?" Torumud shouted, and gestured toward the white suitcase, sitting on an old computer chair.
"Keep it," Aurin said, and peeled out of the garage, hanging a left on the street.
Once he was gone, Torumud eyed the briefcase with curiosity. With a grumble, he picked it up, and set it on his workbench. He undid the latch in the front, and upon seeing what was inside, his jaw dropped, awestruck. He glanced out the garage, but Aurin was already long gone.
With growing apathy, Angela poked a fork at her lunch; a tray of roasted moa, mashed yams, and string beans. The food probably smelled delicious, but Angela had long ago lost a sense of smell. The din of the cafeteria was all around her, and students milled about from the tables.
"And that is why I will never have a torta from a street vendor again." Grey's voice came into earshot, followed by Azeris and Elric.
"That was truly disgusting," Azeris said.
"It would have cost you nothing to not shared that story with us." Elric sighed. "Now it's too late. That time is long gone."
With their food trays, the three of them sat down at the table with Angela: Grey, next to her, and Elric next to Azeris. Angela looked up at them, wondering, not for the first time, why they chose to keep sitting near her. It wasn't as if she had much to add to their banter.
"I gotta say, guys..." Elric began. He was lean, strong, and tall, with a head of close-cropped brown hair. In the middle of his freckled face was a nose that had been broken at least more than once. "I'm really, really excited to be graduating soon. Have you guys given any thought to what you're going to do?"
"With these certificates, we can pretty much do anything... sky's the limit really!" Grey replied, taking no time at all to sink a fork savagely into his poultry and take a large chunk out with his teeth. With a huge bulge in his cheek, he chewed voraciously. As his nickname implied, he had wild grey hair that could never be tamed by a comb. He was at least six inches shorter than Elric, lending to their friendly rivalry. His pale blue eyes were wide with excitement as he continued his attack on his food tray. "Someone pass the salt, please."
"I didn't really need the certificate," Azeris murmured, tenderly lifting up her moa with a fork and peering underneath, seemingly worried that the different foods were touching. She was small, barely standing above Grey's shoulder and shorter even than Angela. She had long raven hair, with straight bangs cut just above her thin eyebrows. "But even so, having one opens up a lot more jobs, even if you don't end up using it."
"Well, what about you, Azzie?" Grey asked, pointing his fork at Azeris."What do you want to do?"
"Gross," Azeris gasped, and giggled, covering her eyes. "Can you not point a fork at me with your mouth full of food?"
"C'mon," Elric prodded, bumping her arm with a soft elbow jab. "Nobody's gonna make fun of you. We're reserving that for Grey."
"Hey, piss off!" Grey hissed and catapulted a piece of bird at Elric's head. Elric nimbly evaded the morsel of meat and stared Grey down with murder on his mind.
"Watch yourself," Elric growled, and pointed a finger dead at Grey's face. Grey feigned a bite at Elric's finger and winked suggestively. "I will twist you into a pretzel."
"Okay, fine, I'll tell you guys if you promise to stop fighting," Azeris sighed, squeezing the bridge of her nose.
"That's a negatory," Grey replied, adjusting his collar with an air of calm, calculated coolness. "I cannot make such a promise. Our rivalry is set in stone."
"Shut up, Grey," Elric snapped.
"If I said that I wanted to be a florist, would you guys laugh?" Azeris stammered, her hands balled into fists on her lap.
"No, not at all," Grey replied, dipping a piece of his meat into the yams. "That's actually kinda cute."
"A florist?" Elric asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "You really didn't need the certification at all to become a florist..."
"I know, but..." Azeris sighed and looked out the window, to the one place everyone always looked- at Khagilos, which was setting in the West. "Doesn't hurt to go the extra mile, right?"
"I guess so. Still seems like overkill to me. Not to mention, you also suck in a Battle Frame." Grey grunted, his mouth again full of food. "We could've just got you some seeds and some pots to grow in and called it a day."
"So what, you're just gonna open up a little flower shop and that's it?" Elric asked. "You don't have any inclinations toward the military whatsoever?"
"I don't think it's wrong... to want to help things grow," Azeris said with a small smile. "I like plants better than guns."
"That's a relief," Grey sighed and patted his belly. "I was starting to think I was the only one who wasn't a psycho with a deathwish."
"Is that what you think I am?" Angela said in a low tone, startling the other three.
"No! No no no!" Grey stammered hurriedly, waving his hands. "No, not at all, Siegfried! I just think... that a lot of kids at this school don't really see the big picture. Some of us..."
"There are other ways to serve your people other than fighting, you know." Elric beamed. "The biggest fight comes after the war."
"Which is what?" Angela pressed.
"Well, alright. Since we're all sharing what we want to do after we graduate..." Grey began, his face becoming red. "I want to be..."
"C'mon, spit it out, string bean." Elric goaded him.
"I want to be a baker!" Grey blurted out, louder than he probably would have liked. The other kids seated at the adjacent tables turned and looked, and went back to their respective cliques.
"A baker?" Elric grinned. "Ha! What a joke!"
"I've already told you!" Grey hissed and slammed his hands on the table. "The hell?"
"Elric, don't," Azeris whispered, tugging at Elric's sleeve.
"Listen here, jerkweed," Grey growled, standing up over the table, his face almost purple. He pointed a fork dead at Elric's heart. "There's a lot of poor, hungry folks out there. They're gonna be clamoring for my bread. Foaming at the mouth. You'll see. My bread is gonna make you weep... like a little bitch. But... y'know, like, in a good way."
"He's very serious about baking," Elric replied, barely containing a snicker. "Who knew that that abomination you made in home ec last week would give you such an epiphany?"
"Says the construction worker!" Grey huffed and sat back down.
"Hey," Elric shrugged, with a self-aggrandizing smirk on his lips. "The unions treat you pretty well if you play your cards right. You better believe that I am making the most out of my certificate."
"That makes so much sense..." Azeris whispered, stars in her eyes. "You always did like lifting up really heavy things and setting them down elsewhere, Elric."
"But seriously..." Elric continued, turning his head to Angela. He put a hand over the Neuro-Synchronization Base, or NSB, that had been cauterized into the base of his skull, same with the other three students- a direct connection port to their nervous systems. "What good is something like the NSB if we can't help other people with it? Sure, piloting a Frame is cool, but when it comes down to having the right tools to help rebuild... that's something I care about."
"I guess that's admirable," Angela said apathetically. "But do you really think that's how things are gonna shake out for you guys?"
"His dad's an architect," Grey said quietly, aside to Angela. "He's pretty loaded. Elric's set for life, basically."
"Yeah, yeah. You can feed 'em, but I'll be the guy who makes sure you have a roof over your head." Elric grunted as he stretched his arms. His shoulder cracked. "Ooh. Hey, what time is lunch over?"
"Don't forget, we're taking that class trip this weekend to Martata!" Azeris waved her hand excitedly. "I'm so excited, I need to pick out what to wear!"
"No way! They picked Martata this time?" Grey gasped. "Party Town, U.A.F?"
"You're seriously only finding out about this now?" Elric said with a raised eyebrow. "The request forms are due tomorrow, dude."
"Aw, crap!"
It's useless, Angela thought. They'll never get it.
Angela left her tray down on the table and was gone, heading towards the dorms which were across the parade grounds. She kept her head low, ignoring glances from the other students. Seven years at this school and the sight of someone with a disc-like chunk of metal grafted into the back of their neck always seemed to draw attention.
Once in the dorm building, Angela walked through the courtyard, passing by tall marble columns and black tiles laid alongside quartz. Up above, Aeos was bright, and while its light was hot, it gave life to the grass and the butterflies in the small plot in the middle of the living quarters.
As she looked on, taking a moment to watch the butterflies, one of them lit on fire and crumbled to ash.
Oh shit.
The screams came back to her, though muted, and Angela felt her heart start to pick up in pace. The cries of anguish and terror echoed, seeming to bounce off of the walls and pick up momentum.
This isn't real, Angela told herself, repeating it like a mantra. Holding a hand up to her forehead, she felt it become damp with sweat.
THOOM. The deafening boom from an explosion startled her, almost causing her knees to buckle. She lifted her hands from her eyes, and found herself alive yet again. As always, it had all been in her mind.
She sighed with relief, taking in a breath, and turned her head to her right, seeing three people standing there.
Overfield and his goons. One of them limped on a crutch, and another had a bandage over his eye. The fourth was nowhere to be seen.
"You're not looking so hot, Siegfried," Deren Overfield remarked, his hands in his pockets. He had a nasty welt on his forehead where Angela had nailed him with a paintball.
"What do you want, Overfield?" Angela sighed. "The fight's over."
"Not for me it isn't." Deren stepped toward her a pace, his hands suddenly balled into fists. "I want a rematch. You, and me. No Frames."
"Hey, back off, man!" Grey shouted from behind Angela.
Great, everyone's following me around nowadays. Angela sighed, lifting up her sleeve and rolling it up, preparing for a scuffle.
"Who are you, that you think you get to smack me around?" Deren bared his teeth, his eyes filling up with venom. "Don't forget, my dad occupies a chair at the board of Mercator Group and-"
"All you do is beat up on weak kids to bolster your stats," Angela interrupted him. "I don't give a damn who your dad is."
"What!?" Deren seethed. "You wanna run that by me again?"
"What do you even care?" Grey asked, right behind Angela now. "You're getting your certificate, same as us."
"That's not the point," Deren grunted. "You fought dirty, Siegfried. You humiliated me in front of everyone."
Before anyone could act next, they were interrupted by the clicking of boots. A troop of grey-clad soldiers in berets marched into the hallway, their rifles slung over their backs. The students snapped to attention at once.
"At ease," a voice said austerely, and a hardened warrior stepped out a pace toward the students, clicking his heel softly when he stopped. He was somewhat short of stature, but muscles ripples underneath his neatly-pressed white uniform. "I hate to interrupt, but I need to speak to Cadet Siegfried for a moment."
"All of you, go back to your dorms!" one of the guards warned, stun baton at the ready.
"There's no need to escalate things, Corporal." The officer said to the guard, raising a calm hand. "After all, these young cadets were just having a little chat, right?" The officer didn't take his eyes off the group.
Overfield unclenched his fists, wisely deciding to avert further consequences. "C'mon, guys, let's bounce. This chat was boring me anyway."
The group went their separate ways, and the officer smirked slightly. With a nod, the officer dismissed the complement of troops and turned to face Angela.
Still standing nearby, Grey glanced at Angela, then at the officer, who gave him a nod as well.
"It's alright," the officer said. "She's not in trouble."
Grey cleared his throat, and sheepishly left the way he came. "I'll, uh... catch you later, Angela. Good talk."
Watching Grey leave, the corners of the officer's mouth turned up into a small smile. "Do you know who I am?" The officer asked. He was as dark as earth and had deep brown eyes which seemed to miss nothing. His thick hair had been shaved just down below an inch, showing a deep, pink scar that ran from his eyebrow up into his scalp. He couldn't have been much older than thirty but the sides of his head were starting to turn white.
"You're Captain Delis Iblis with the MSA, the military police right?" Angela returned. "You fought in the Battle of the Divide. A lot of people think you're a hero."
"That was a long time ago, already. Another life. I'm just a glorified desk jockey, nowadays." Iblis smiled and clasped his hands behind him. "But occasionally, I'll go and get a feel for up and coming talent. I see that you take combat exercises very seriously at this school."
"Seems so," Angela said quietly and cleared her throat. "Uh, Sir."
"You know, a lot of kids I see from schools like this take that class for the heavy machinery certificate..." Iblis cocked his head slightly. "You fight like a vicious animal. It borders on the illegal and were it not for the waivers your respective parents had signed upon enrolling you here, it would land you a lot of trouble in the outside world."
Angela didn't look away from his gaze.
"But I know who you are," Iblis stepped in closer. "And I know where you come from. Cradle, right?"
"Yes, Sir."
Iblis paused before speaking again and turned to the side slightly. "The fact that you're standing in front of me today is a testament to your luck, and your determination. Your combat aptitude scores rival even my own troops, who have been on the force for years. Beyond that, your other tests show a positive pattern as well. Ever consider a career in State Affairs?"
"If you've come to seek my recruitment," Angela said, "Then the answer is yes."
The Captain raised his eyebrows. "Really. Well, that was simpler than I'd anticipated."
"All my life..." Angela murmured, and then her voice found strength. "All my life, all I've ever wanted was a chance to give back to those who sacrificed their lives for us. To protect who survived, and those who'll come after."
"Then State Affairs would welcome you with open arms," Iblis replied with a small smile. "You know what it is that we do, right? In the Internal Division?"
Angela had heard many things about State Affairs, but all of it seemed to conflict. "You fight terrorist groups?"
"Sometimes. Not as much these days, fortunately. Our work mostly entails peacekeeping, civil disputes, theft, distribution of illegal substances..." Iblis adjusted his cuffs. "Pretty boring stuff, actually, but it's still important. If you're into that, I can put in a good word to my superiors and have you working under me within the month."
"So... is that it?" Angela raised her hands, puzzled. "Am I in now?"
"No," Iblis chuckled. "But if I can have you fill out this paperwork, we can get the ball rolling for you."
"Oh, sure."
Captain Iblis pressed a button on his telebeacon, and pinched open a holographic screen in front of Angela.
"Take your time," Iblis said. "Your instructors know that I'm here."
"Why me?" Angela asked. She scribbled in her name, identification number, and started checking boxes.
"Well, as I'd mentioned, your combat aptitude scores..."
"No," Angela interrupted him. "There are a lot of other schools in Belas, ones that focus a lot harder on Ministry scholarships, and I'm sure their scores there dwarf mine by a large margin... why me, specifically?"
Iblis sighed, and for a moment, appeared to reflect back on chaotic times. To the stories behind his scars. "I owe a favor to your old man."
"You know my father?"
"You could say that." Iblis closed his eyes for a time... it looked as if he might be ill for a split second. "I served under him during the Divide campaign. He's a good man. Hell of a fighter... stubborn as an ox, though."
"You probably know him better than I do, then." Angela signed her name and checked the last two boxes. She flipped the screen back to Iblis.
"Really? That's a shame," Iblis said, and closed the holoscreen with a pinch of his fingers. "If you do see him again, tell him I said hey."
"Is that all for today, Sir?" Angela asked. She crossed her arms and met Iblis' gaze. Iblis could probably sense her discomfort.
"Yes. Thank you for meeting with me today. I'll make sure to process these in an expedient manner." Iblis checked his watch. "Come down to the MSA HQ in Ascension and meet with me on the 28th of Edress, which is about three weeks from now. That will give you some time to celebrate your graduation."
"Thank you."
Iblis extended a hand to shake, and Angela took it. Iblis winced, feeling the tight, powerful grip of Angela's right hand.
Waiting for Delis around the corner was his Second Lieutenant, Adoré Falwin. Even in the heels of her dress uniform, she was small, with dark hair cut into a bob and lime green eyes. She stood up from leaning against the wall and snapped a crisp salute to Iblis.
"How did it go, Sir?" Falwin asked, after Delis returned the salute, and started walking to keep up with him.
"Went about as well as expected," Iblis answered, and touched his telebeacon to Falwin's. She pulled up the screen on her own, looking over it as they walked. Delis continued, "She's standoffish... a bit stony. But I can sense that she's reliable and trustworthy."
"Trustworthy to you... or to the state?" Falwin said with a wry smile. "The two can be mutually exclusive, at times."
"Well... she's Eld's kid. So the pendulum can swing either way. But the kind of blind loyalty the state wants to instill in these kids..." Iblis shook his head, ignoring stares from the students passing by. "I just hope I'm making the right decision."
"Does it sit right with you, recruiting these children out of vocational school?" Falwin blew hair from her face. "Because it doesn't with me."
"I don't take any pleasure from it, but it's better that I get to her before the MFA does. She'll do more good planetside than out in the Divide, chasing smugglers." Delis turned right on his heel, heading toward the exit. "If I remember correctly, you got recruited right out of school as well, didn't you?"
"Best day of my life," Falwin answered, keeping pace with him.
Delis thought back to the handshake, of Angela's black glove on her right hand. How eerily tight her grip was.
"Her scores..." Delis murmured aloud.
"Sorry, Sir?"
"I've only seen scores like hers once, and it was a long time ago." Delis answered, speaking up.
"Whose were they?" Falwin stopped for a moment.
"Mine." Delis let the exit slide open, and stepped out into the summer air on the street. "Are you coming, Lieutenant?"
After the Captain had left, Angela held her keycard up to the scanner. Once in her dorm, Angela kicked off her shoes and fell backward onto her bed, staring up at the blank concrete ceiling. There was no window in here, only a holo-screen that showed a generic blue and cloudy sky, with an indicator in the bottom-right corner showing the date and the local weather temperature.
She considered Captain Iblis' words... it seemed too good to be true, but in all actuality, it wasn't unheard of. She was young, but that hardly mattered when it came to pure competency, at least as far as State Affairs was concerned. They needed every able-bodied person they could find, and with a multitude of orphans now entering the workforce, there was no shortage.
It seemed that everything she had worked so hard for was finally paying off, and her path was set for her. There was no more worrying about what to do after school had ended, where she would go, where she would live. All she would have to do is show up, pass the preliminary exams, and she would have a badge and a gun. It was a beautiful thing, knowing exactly what one wanted to do and then following through to the end. It was something many people struggled with.
After taking off her glove, Angela sighed and held her right arm up to the ceiling light. She studied the curves and bumps underneath the fake skin, listened to the way the machinery quietly whirred when she rotated her wrist.
Is this all I am? She thought. Am I even capable of being something else?