Landing in the compound's front yard, I barely had time to step out of Andromeda before the sound of deep, thunderous laughter echoed through the base. Someone—or rather, multiple someone's—was enjoying themselves far too much.
Andromeda shrank down onto my belt as I approached the main entrance. The front door creaked open, and I was immediately greeted by the sight of General Tony at the bar, clutching his sides, face red from laughter. Across from him, Commander Peter snorted between chuckles, while Evan sat with his hands pressed firmly over his ears, looking like he wanted to disappear.
"Th-that absolute moron! Ahaha—pahaaha!" Tony gasped between fits of laughter, pounding his fist against the counter before slipping off his stool and collapsing onto the floor. "H-he actually thought he could—pfffhahahaha! I can't breathe~!"
I hesitated for a moment before slipping inside. "Uh... what's going on?"
Tony was far too lost in his drunken hysteria to respond. If anything, my presence only seemed to make it worse. His laughter climbed into an uncontrollable wheeze, barely allowing him to inhale.
Evan groaned and pressed his palms even harder against his ears, while Commander Peter—who at least had some self-control—managed to settle down into a few ugly snorts.
"We just got a call about your little adventure into town," Peter said, his amusement still laced through his voice. "Apparently, you threw Dr Celfsi's escort into jail."
"...Ehe."
I wasn't sure how to defend myself. How was I supposed to know Oscar was supposed to be escorting that mad scientist back to Palace-World? He was the one who ambushed me in the park. Not my fault.
Peter cleared his throat, finally forcing himself back into his usual gruffness. "Monica's handling Oscar's squad of failures, but while you were gone, high command sent in a few missions. You've been assigned one—you leave tomorrow."
I stepped up to the bar. "Will I be going solo, Commander?"
"No. Jason and Nicole are going with you. They already know the details, so ask them if you wanna know." Peter swivelled his stool away from me, reaching for his drink—only to find an empty glass. "Evan. Grab me a beer."
"Commander, I think you've had enough already," Evan muttered.
Peter turned his head slowly, voice dropping to a near-growl. "You say something, brat?"
"No, no! I'll get your beer immediately!" Evan shot to his feet, darting past me. As he ducked behind the bar, he muttered under his breath, "Nicole and Jason are probably waiting for you upstairs, Firefly, in case you're wondering."
"Less talking, more pouring. Or do you want me to crush your skull in?"
"Yes, sir," Evan sighed, begrudgingly handing Commander Peter a fresh beer. "This is an abuse of authority."
Charmed by their dysfunctional dynamic, I left them to their bickering and headed upstairs. The game area was empty, so I climbed another flight to the living quarters.
Nicole and Jason were talking in the corridor. Jason spotted me first, waving me over. "We were just about to look for you. The Commander and General already tell you we're a squad?"
"Yep," I said, grinning. "It'll be nice to have an actual mission with you two this time."
Nicole huffed, already spinning on her heel. "Let's talk in my room. Better than standing around like NPCs." She kicked open her door with a loud bang, and I followed her inside—only to be instantly overwhelmed by the sheer chaos within.
The room was glowing. Rainbow-colored gizmos blinked and flickered, reflecting off multiple monitors. Boxes of USBs were stacked against the walls, along with even more boxes filled with old devices. Video game posters covered nearly every inch of available space, some featuring characters I vaguely recognized—others, well... less recognisable and quite nude.
And the smell was enough to make me gag and choke briefly. It was worse than tear gas training at the facility.
Jason nudged a pair of crumpled shorts off a box and sat down, looking unimpressed. "You still haven't done your laundry?"
I peered into her overflowing trash bin, spotting at least a dozen empty instant noodle cups. "...I don't think it's just the clothes."
Nicole ignored both of us, already spinning in her desk chair.
Grimacing, I made my way to the window, only to pause as I pulled back the blinds. A particularly lewd poster stared back at me. The character on it... looked oddly similar to Nicole.
I never took her to be vain in such a way before, interesting.
Pushing the window open, I let fresh air rush in, instantly thinning the room's toxic atmosphere. "Much better." Turning, I sat on the edge of her unmade bed. "Alright—what's the mission?"
Nicole, still spinning in slow circles, said, "Investigation. Spy-type."
Jason leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "We're infiltrating an insurgent network. According to intel, a spy is enroute to warn them about the upcoming campaign. Our objective is to let them make contact—then use them to track down potential insurgent leaders. If we get the opportunity, we eliminate them and gather whatever data we can."
Andromeda stirred on my belt. [Pilot, allow me to speak.]
I detached him, glancing around before plugging him into Nicole's main computer. A small, chibi version of his knightly helmet appeared on-screen, speaking through the desk's speakers.
[Sergeant Jason Osthez, do we know why we are trailing the spy rather than preventing the communication outright?]
"Just Jason is fine," he corrected. "And yeah, it's to gauge how well-organized the insurgents are. By the time we locate him, the war will have already started across the Greyrot quadrant. The goal is to dismantle their spy network from within—we'll be hopping from one messenger to another, climbing as high up the food chain as we can before pulling out."
Nicole groaned, hitting her forehead against the desk. "Ugh. So much work tracking signals between planets."
Jason glanced at me. "Something on your mind?"
"Yeah." My arms folded, frowning. "If high command expects the spy's information to reach the enemy generals, then what kind of intel does this guy have that would warrant such a strange response?"
Nicole muttered into her desk, "According to the file, it's something they leaked on purpose. Meaning it's worthless. Either this spy is a double agent, or they're just stupid enough to be manipulated." She waved a hand lazily. "We don't actually have to track the guy himself—just the data stamp left on anyone who comes into contact with the 'stolen intelligence.'" She made air quotes before groaning again.
I was beginning to see the bigger picture. Still... something wasn't adding up.
"So if this is such a precise operation," I asked slowly, "then why am I coming along? No offense, but knights aren't exactly known for their silence."
Jason and Nicole exchanged a look.
Nicole smirked. "Yeah, about that..."
"There's no chance the two of us will go undetected the whole way," Jason exhaled through his nose and rubbed the back of his neck. "While following the trail, we'll be disrupting enemy communications and eliminating as many commanders as we can. The goal is to carve an opening in their defences—enough for a knight battalion or a Noblesse Oblige legion to punch through to the sector warp tunnels. Having a knight pilot with us just speeds up the clean-up process if Nicole or I ever get caught. If the two of us are the scalpel, you'll be the bomb—cleaning up the blood afterward."
[That is an odd analogy, Sergeant Jason,] Andromeda said for me, perfectly matching my confused expression. [However, the logic is sound. While the Nymphas Empire presses against the insurgents, their communications will be in enough disarray that a few missing spy commanders won't raise alarms while their own data is stolen. The estimated time for a mission of this scale is... two months, thirteen days, and twenty-three hours—including travel time and any potential bonus objectives. We would return in time for the ordaining ceremony.]
Nicole let out a dreamy sigh, stroking the screen where Andromeda's small, knightly avatar was displayed. "Man, I wish my assistant AI was as useful as you."
Jason stood from the black box he had been sitting on, signalling the conversation's end. "We leave tomorrow after lunch. Get your gear in order and pack whatever you think you'll need in the morning."
With that, he walked out, leaving Nicole and me alone.
She spun her chair toward the computer, resting her chin on her palm. "Any chance you'd be able to help me track the data stamp, big guy?"
[Slight assistance is probable, Major Nicole Naben, but I lack the required functions to properly aid you. If you link me to your D.S.I, I can provide support at the moment of input. Most of the effort will still fall on you and your assistant AIs.]
"Eh~ I'll link you anyway. Who knows? Might come in handy."
She pulled a device from the front pouch of her hoodie, then fished a connector wire from beneath her desk, plugging it into both her computer and the D.S.I. A small bar appeared on the screen beneath Andromeda's icon, quickly filling with a soft green glow.
[Connection complete. I will be able to assist in organizing data during the operation, Major.]
"Nice~." Nicole unplugged the device and held it up, showing me a small new app—a miniature portrait of Andromeda's helmeted head, just like on her computer screen.
She suddenly snapped her fingers. "Oh! Jason's handling supplies after dinner—he always does. Just tell him what toys you think you'll need for the mission."
It was her way of telling me not to worry about packing. I nodded. "Thanks for the heads-up. I'll be in the garden if you need me."
"Right~!" Nicole waved me off, already turning her attention back to her computer. The moment I shut the door behind me, the clicking of mechanical keys and the distant hum of gaming music filled the hall.
Heading downstairs, I intended to step into the backyard, but before I could reach the glass door— "Oi! Second Lieutenant!"
I turned just in time to see a familiar, sly-faced troublemaker stomping toward me. Oscar's fist shot forward, but I caught it with barely any effort. Twisting his weak wrist back, I applied just enough force to send him to his knees.
"This feels counterproductive to what you should be doing, Corporal Oscar." I reprimanded.
"Ow!" His voice pitched with frustration and pain, struggling against my grip. "You damn artificial defect! Stand down and let your superior hit you!"
I blinked. Slowly looking up. The two commanders, General Tony, and the rest of Oscar's squad were all watching. not doing anything.
'Ah. A test, then? The solution was obvious.'
Without hesitation, I slammed my knee into his face, knocking him out instantly and dislocating his nose. His body went limp before I grabbed his collar and dragged him off to the backyard.
"Apologies for the mess, seniors," I called over my shoulder.
No one stopped me. A mix of intrigue and fear filling the room as I left it behind.
Reaching the garden, I unceremoniously tossed Oscar into the hole I had dug earlier for some flowers, then began shovelling dirt over him. I left only his unconscious head above ground, nestled snugly in the soil.
"There. That should keep him from being a problem for a while. Now, back to what I actually wanted to do..."
Moving toward the pond, I checked its water level. Satisfied, then I shut off the tap, letting the surface settle into stillness. Walking further along the garden path, I knelt beside a patch of earth, brushing my fingers across the soil. Tiny sprouts were beginning to emerge, pushing their way toward the sunlight.
A small, quiet warmth spread through my chest. It was working. My efforts hadn't been wasted.
"Did you seriously bury him?" Evan's voice pulled me from my thoughts. He stood at the garden's entrance, staring down at Oscar's unconscious, half-buried form. Crouching, he poked at the assassin's dirt-streaked cheek with mild amusement.
"This guy was throwing a fit about you 'disrupting his operations' in the city before you even came downstairs," Evan continued, shaking his head. "Damn idiot doesn't even realize your knight recorded the entire altercation. I guess getting bailed out of prison by the vice-commander put him in a really bad mood."
"Unfortunately, that's correct." Vice-Commander Monica stepped into the garden, her gaze cool and unreadable as always. "I was planning to punish him myself later, but you've done it for me, Firefly."
For some reason, I felt like I was in trouble. Gripping the shovel behind my back, I instinctively tried to hide it. "I-I'm sorry, Vice-Commander. For giving you more work to clean up."
"It's no problem." She sighed. "If anything, it's my fault for not handling Oscar properly before. Normally, he's quite reserved, but when it comes to knights, he always loses his rationality."
Evan gave Oscar one last poke. "Want to tell her why?"
Monica shifted slightly, and I noticed the small package she was holding behind her back.
Shaking my head I displayed no interest. "Andy already showed me his file. It said he has a general hatred for all knights. I'm not really bothered by it. I've been dealing with others superfluous hate since the day I woke up. If he wants me to be his target, that's fine. I don't need to know why he hates me, and I don't need to change that."
A brief silence settled over us.
Evan's hand stilled, no longer prodding Oscar's face. Meanwhile, Monica's normally unreadable expression cracked—just slightly. A flicker of something deep and uneasy passed through her eyes before she smoothed it away. "...What are you talking about?" she asked, quieter this time.
I smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "I am a defective Artificial Knight Pilot, Vice-Commander. Ever since I stepped out of the pod that made me, I've dealt with the scorn of others. It's nothing new. Being attacked for no reason, being blamed for things that aren't my fault—I've grown up knowing that some people's opinions will never change, no matter what I say. I learned that the hard way."
Monica exhaled slowly, her lips parting as if to speak. But before she could, I felt something wet slide down my cheek.
It was a tear I didn't even realise was falling down my face.
Monica's hand reached for me, but before she could touch me, I jerked away by instinct. "You're crying, Firefly," she said softly. "Let me help you."
Quickly, I wiped my eyes and forced a smile. "I'm just thankful that most people here at least tolerate me enough to spare me insults, Vice-Commander. Others help is wasted on me. Please don't think too much of it."
Monica hesitated. Then, without another word, she stepped forward and placed the box she had been holding atop a nearby pedestal. "This is a gardening drone," she murmured, glancing at me, then away. "It'll take care of the garden while you're away. It's also... a sorry."
I blinked. "Sorry for what?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she turned and walked away, gesturing for Evan to follow. He gave me a look—somewhere between sympathy and understanding—before following her back inside.
Left alone, I exhaled, feeling something heavy in the air.
Had I said something wrong? ...No. I shook my head. It doesn't matter.
Turning my attention to the package, I carefully opened the box. A small, orb-shaped drone floated out, hovering momentarily before whirring into action. It immediately set to work, tending to the garden I had nurtured with my own hands.
I watched it buzz from flower to flower, ensuring their survival even in my absence.
A small part of me felt relieved. "At least I won't have to worry about this place after I leave." A thought struck me. "Ah, I should help Jason with cooking dinner, shouldn't I?"
With that, I turned and headed inside.