Today, I fight my hardest battle yet. Something I've never done before.
Purchasing an item from a convenience store.
The process itself is simple—pick an item, walk up to the clerk, hand over the appropriate currency, receive the item. Andromeda, in his card form, doubles as an actual currency card, just like the ones the other customers use. All I have to do is tap him against the scanner, and the transaction will be complete. That's it. That's all.
It's just that simple.
And yet, I stand frozen.
[Pilot Firefly, you have been motionless and staring at the counter for precisely 10 minutes and 39 seconds. The shop assistant has noticed your behaviour and appears to be confused.] Andromeda's voice hums from my belt, flat and unamused. [Follow the example of other store patrons and complete the transaction.]
I clutch the nutrition packet in my trembling hands. "W-what if the transaction fails?" My voice barely rises above a whisper. "Will I be branded a criminal? Will that affect our record? What if they accuse me of stealing? What if I get arrested? What if—"
[Calm yourself, Pilot.] Andromeda cuts in, his tone verging on exhausted. [Think of this as a training simulation. If you fail, you can attempt again.]
I exhale sharply, nodding despite my spiralling thoughts. "O-okay..."
Forcing my stiff legs to move, I approach the counter with a staggered, robotic gait. Sliding the packet across the surface, I force the words out of my dry mouth.
"Ma-may I p-purchase this, please... ma'am?"
The clerk stifled a chuckle behind her hand, looking away as she snorted at something humorous about me.
I knew it. I failed already, and I haven't even finished the process. Internally, I crumbled, wanting nothing more than to sink into the floor and disappear. Civilian life is harder than I ever imagined.
"This your first time buying something yourself, artificial?" The woman grinned, her voice light with amusement. Before I can answer, she swaps my nutrition packet for a bottle of juice and a packet of dried jerky. "This does the job, sure, but I'd recommend these instead. Just tap your card right here." She held up the scanner expectantly.
I fumbled to detach Andromeda from my belt, hesitating for a moment before placing him over the glowing red light. The clerk lifts her phone and—snap!—takes a picture of my nervous expression right as a soft chime signals the successful purchase.
…It worked. The transaction actually worked.
A strange, buzzing sense of triumph wells in my chest and the relief showed on my face as a radiant smile.
The clerk took another picture, now looking utterly delighted. "Thanks for your patronage. Please come again~."
Clutching my bag tightly. "Th-thank you as well." Not knowing whether to salute or wave, doing a mix of both before bolting out of the store, Andromeda clutched in one hand, my items in the other.
Once in the parking lot, I hold the bag of jerky and the bottle of nutrient juice aloft, letting the sunlight wash over them like some kind of divine offering.
I actually did it.
Using a tiny portion of my own military pay—earned over three months of service—I bought something for the first time. Andromeda handles my finances because I have no idea how money works, but this... this is weird. Is this all money is for? Just buying things?
[Will you consume your items here or return to the compound first?] Andromeda asked.
I hesitated answering before beginning to ponder. If I go back now, Valerie will be waiting—probably planning to ambush me for revenge after this morning's training session. And knowing the others, they'll gladly help her out.
"It's probably better to eat somewhere near here," I decided.
Following Andromeda's guidance, I wander through the city for a few minutes until we find a quiet park. Settling onto a large rock, I finally start eating.
The jerky is tough and chewy, but the sharp, salty spice makes up for the effort. The juice is rich, packed with the familiar taste of blackcurrant—similar to the berries I used to eat in the Fallen Moon Facility's forest. Together, they create an unexpectedly pleasant tangy flavour. Much better than a bland nutrition packet.
"Excuse me, miss."
Pausing mid-chew, I glanced up at the voice.
A man stood before me—dark-haired, forced smile, beads of sweat hastily wiped from his forehead.
Saying nothing, I simply stared at him as I chewed my jerky.
"Miss?" he prompts again, clearly unsettled by my silence.
Finishing the jerky, I take a slow look around. Spotting several suspicious movements encircling me. Carefully, I set my drink and jerky aside before responding. "What seems to be the problem?"
"I was just wondering if—wah!"
Before he can finish his sentence, I hooked my foot behind his ankle and yanked. Collapsing the man onto the grass, and in the same motion, I drive my boot into his wrist—forcing him to release the knife he'd been concealing.
Jumping down from the rock, my knee pressed into his chest before he can recover. "Agh! What are you—?!"
"You've been tailing me since the convenience store." I said, my voice cold, detached. "Military training is all over you. You tried to hide it, but the sweat on your forehead gave you away—you were rushing to keep up. The real mistake, though, was your expression. You're terrible at faking a natural face."
He stayed silent, jaw tightening beneath me. Not willingly telling me his intentions.
"That's a shame," I murmur, reaching down to snatch up his fallen knife. Then driving the blade into the dirt beside his head with a dull thud. "Guess I'll have to kill your allies first to get you to talk."
A second figure emerged from the trees. "Hang on," the newcomer said quickly, hands raised. "You're right. We're the unit that just returned today." He's blonde, freckled, and—unlike his captured ally—hasn't drawn a weapon. "No need to break my man for a simple 'exchange between colleagues,' is there?"
Pressing my boot deeper onto my hostage's wrist, eliciting a pained groan. Remembering what my past 'exchanges between colleagues' were like in the pilot training facility where I'd almost always end up a bloody and bruised pulp.
"Lieutenant!" the man beneath me gasps.
"You're going to break his wrist," the blonde warns, voice tight. "Let him go, and we'll pull back. No harm done, no reason to fight."
My eyes flick up to him, cold and unrelenting. "You have no intention of doing that," I stated flatly. "The three others hiding in the bushes are waiting for you to distract me. They haven't jumped in yet because they know I'd kill this one before they could act. And you haven't gone for the gun on your hip because you know it wouldn't end well."
The blonde stiffened, visibly unsettled. "You really can't underestimate pilots... Even fresh meat like you is terrifying." After a beat, he exhaled sharply. "What makes you so confident we can't kill you before you kill us?"
"Try me." I threatened. Lowering the tip of the knife to the man's forehead. And slowly, starting to press down.
Unable to watch his comrade hover an inch from death, the lieutenant shouted, "Okay, that's enough! We'll back off for real now!" He made a sharp gesture, and the three hidden figures in the bushes withdrew. He himself stepped away, hands raised in a sign of surrender. "We won't mess with you any further, AKP."
Lifting my knee and boot off the man beneath me, i started stepping back.
[Alert!] Andromeda's warning blared in my mind. [Incoming attack! West side, 120 degrees!]
My head snapped toward the threat—just in time to see a flash grenade spinning through the air, hurtling toward me.
I barely had a second to react. Shutting my eyes as the grenade ignited in my face, I braced against the searing light and the deafening screech that tore through my ears. But even blind and disoriented, my training held—I yanked my gun free and fired a single shot into the sky, the sound cracking through the air like a warning bell.
"Shit! Take her down before the police arrive!" a voice snarled.
"Andy, Echo Breaker Protocol," I ordered, gritting my teeth against the disorientation.
[Copy. Five targets. First attack: North, horizontal.]
I obeyed instantly, ducking low and sweeping my leg across the ground—catching someone off-guard and sending them crashing down.
[Two covering attacks. East and West.]
Jumping forward, I stomped on the first attacker putting him back in the dirt and rolled blindly away, trying to orient myself in the open grass. My gun came up again, and I fired three more times into the air, the sound reverberating across the park.
[Left, 5 degrees north from direct stretch.] Adjusting as instructed, I pulled the trigger. A sharp yelp of pain split the chaos.
"Dammit! Get him out of here! Retreat now!" a desperate voice cried.
[False command.] Andromeda's voice cut through the confusion. [Two targets rushing your location. Arrival in seven seconds. Senses recovering in three.]
Like clockwork, my hearing began to return, followed closely by my sight. My vision blurred, then focused—just in time to see a fist flying straight for my nose.
I twisted. Not quite fast enough to dodge completely, but enough to minimize the impact. My hand shot out, catching the attacker's arm. Using his own momentum, I spun him around and slammed him into his approaching comrade.
I raised my gun to finish the fight— then a throwing knife whistled through the air and struck the weapon clean out of my grasp.
"She's already recovered from the flashbang?" one of them stammered in disbelief. "It hasn't even been a minute!"
"I'll distract her—grab them and go!" the lieutenant barked.
"Andy, engage."
With a flash of crackling blue light, Andromeda materialized around me, teleporting me into his cockpit, his towering knight form solidifying in an instant. The ground trembled beneath his massive frame as he planted a heavy metal foot onto the two I had taken down—just enough pressure to hold them there without crushing them.
"They aren't going anywhere," I said coldly, directing my voice through Andromeda's speakers. "Neither are you three."
Andromeda's left wrist snapped open, revealing a magnetic teal glow. A low hum filled the air as his magnetic shield activated—ripping every metal object from the final three attackers. Weapons, comms, knives—all wrenched from their bodies and sucked into the invisible force. One man was even dragged forward by his prosthetic leg, nearly falling flat on his face.
"Only warning." Andromeda's right hand lifted, a swirling vortex of flame igniting in his palm. "Surrender, or burn."
The sly-looking one—clearly the leader—grimaced, eyes darting between his injured squad-mate and the three trapped beneath Andromeda's foot. His shoulders dropped in reluctant defeat. "Okay," he muttered. "Just... remove your foot from my teammates, please."
[Negative.] Andromeda replied flatly. [Until authorities arrive in 3 minutes and 14 seconds, you and they shall remain as currently present.]
Inside Andromeda's cockpit, a scan of the leader's face appeared on my HUD. Military ID: Oscar Treyaurus. Rogue Raven Battalion. Assassination Squad Captain. A notation on his file caught my attention—deep animosity for all Knight Pilots.
No wonder he was so eager to pick a fight, I thought.
The sound of sirens filled the distance, growing louder. Then— "Hands in the air!" Five officers stormed onto the scene, weapons drawn. They moved with practiced efficiency, securing the injured assassin first before slapping cuffs onto Oscar himself.
One officer turned to me, nodding with respect. "Knight, we've got it from here. You can step back now."
At his words, Andromeda disengaged his foot from the captives, the magnetic field releasing all stolen items—which promptly clattered to the ground. The officer barely hid his smirk. "Must be some real idiots if they thought they could take down a Pilot."
Andromeda's chest compartment slid open, allowing me to step out onto the grass. The police sergeant blinked in mild surprise, likely expecting someone taller or more intimidating.
"Andy will send you the full audio and video logs of the incident," I said, rubbing my temple. "Thank you for arriving so quickly. A-and... sorry for starting a panic by firing my gun so many times."
The officer sighed, clearly torn between annoyance and understanding. "Well, it did make us rush over, and you're owning up to it. I'll let you off with a warning—but thanks for the apology. You're free to go, Pilot."
He turned to his squad, gesturing for them to move out. As Oscar was hauled to his feet, he shot me a look from the corner of his eye—dark, full of unspoken promise.
This wasn't over. Even as the last officer disappeared beyond the trees, I knew we'd meet again.
The park fell silent once more. Then I sighed, rubbing my face before trudging back to where I had left my jerky and drink. Picking them up from the ground, I flopped onto the rock and began eating again—less from hunger, more from stubborn defiance.
High above me, Andromeda watched in silence. He analysed my movements, my posture, my expression. [Pilot, are you enjoying your food? Your actions indicate you are... infuriated.]
I let out a tired groan. "All I wanted was to learn about faith and enjoy some snacks," I muttered, crushing the empty jerky packet into my finished drink bottle. "Is being a regular person in the Empire always this hard, Andy? I've only been in the city twice, and both times I've been forced into fights. Nicole had a reason to attack me. This 'Oscar' just dragged me into *his* problems. Is this what normal life is like? I thought fighting was supposed to be a soldier's duty, for the Empire's prosperity."
Andromeda knelt beside me, his optics shifting in quiet calculation.
[Violence is a language all can speak, but few actually understand.]
I frowned.
[Citizen life is far more complex than a soldier's, Pilot. A soldier's life is one of orders and survival—a deadly simplicity. A citizen's is a struggle of appeasement and self-reliance within a society that grinds down the unprepared. Prosperity is something they pursue, while we shield them so they may chase it. One day, perhaps, we too shall receive it.]
A loud exhale left through my nose. "...So you're saying I keep getting into fights because I'm a soldier?"
[Affirmative, Firefly.] His tone softened. [You were not raised in civilian life, so you do not yet understand its complexities. Humans are a wanting species. And violence is the most basic method to achieve what they desire—whether it be power, control, or survival. Just as you wish to find and protect this galaxy's beauty... we must use violence to achieve it.]
I huffed a quiet laugh, reaching up to grasp Andromeda's large metal face as he leaned down to look at me. "Yeah... I guess you're right."
Handing him my trash, he incinerated it effortlessly in his large palm.
"Let's head home, Andy."