The VR spar against Brigadier Verwin had been invaluable. Not only had I uncovered flaws in my combat techniques, but I'd also discovered new applications for Andromeda's ice and fire manipulation—pushing his heat control to new limits. Facing someone of her calibre had been a rare opportunity, and I wasn't about to let it go to waste.
I'd tried challenging her to another duel multiple times over the past few days, but every time I so much as spotted her, she'd vanish like a ghost.
I tried cornering her in the showers.
Followed her into the toilets.
Laid in wait at the cafeteria.
Even broke into her quarters after curfew.
Yet somehow, she kept slipping away—either evading me outright or turning out to be an entirely different person I'd mistakenly pursued. I'd have confronted her during work hours, but Commander Fenrir had strictly forbidden it. Andromeda also insisted I stay out of her way.
Then, there was what Verwin had said during our fight. A taunt, meant to rattle me.
But I already knew the truth.
It wasn't some dark secret. It wasn't even that heavy of a burden.
Four insurgents had ambushed Andromeda. Given the situation, he hadn't been able to hold back—ripping the cores from three enemy Constellation Knights and killing their pilots in the process. But the real mess of the incident?
Andromeda's own pilot had been one of them.
He'd told me everything back at the training facility. He'd even reconstructed the event from his databanks, turning it into a simulated mission for us to fight through together. It had been the hardest battle I'd ever faced in a sim. If any of the enemy Knights had activated their Constellation Drives, it would've been outright impossible.
And yet, Andromeda had overcome them all. Three Constellation Knights and his own pilot.
I knew he had an emergency override—a last resort that activated when a pilot was deemed unfit to operate. The criteria were strict. I'd long since accepted it as a necessary safeguard in case I was ever compromised, controlled, or incapacitated.
But considering his experience... considering that betrayal... It was no wonder Andromeda had remained inactive for over 200 years. And yet... what was it about me that had made him wake up?
"Pilot Firefly." The voice buzzed in my ear—General Fenrir.
Surprised by the sudden call, I answered, "Yes, General. Is there an issue?"
"Report to the bridge. Immediately." His tone was serious. "Something's happened at Helios Station."
Without hesitation, I sprinted through the warship's corridors, arriving at the bridge to find Fenrir standing beside the captain, a perplexed expression on his face.
"Second Lieutenant Firefly, reporting for duty, sir!"
"Good. Come here. Listen to this." The captain tapped on the war table's interface, playing back an audio transmission.
["Carrier-class Faraway in Winter, request to board permitted. Head to Hangar S-0-6."]
The recording cut off, leaving a heavy silence.
I tensed. "That's the emergency SOS code. Hangar S-0-6 doesn't exist. Has the station been overrun?"
"There's more," the captain said grimly.
The recording resumed. ["Be advised: Special VIP of Royal-rank is on Helios Station. Currently attending vivarium and training centres at their leisure."] The message ended.
My mind raced. I wasn't familiar with that code. I turned to the captain and General Fenrir for clarification.
"One of the Empress's family members is on that station," the captain explained. "As for the rest, we can assume the hostages are being held in the vivarium and training centre but the VIP hasn't been found yet."
"Which means they've got someone protecting them," Fenrir added. He exhaled, rubbing his temple. "While Verwin and I work on assessing the situation, your mission, Firefly, will be to locate and extract the VIP. The enemy likely expects two Constellation Knights—but not a third. Can you do it?"
I turned my head slightly, addressing Andromeda. "What are our odds, Andy?"
[Unknown without further data.] His voice resonated through my neural link. [However, I have already formulated a strategy. In Knight Mode, we can traverse the outer hull of the station and enter through a maintenance airlock. We will have approximately thirty minutes of oxygen if we leave immediately.]
I nodded to Fenrir. "It's doable. But how do I find the VIP? If I'm not careful, the enemy might locate me first—or worse, execute the hostages."
"You'll have to figure that out on the fly," the captain admitted. "If a firefight breaks out before you secure the VIP or the hostages, you'll need to move fast. The station houses workers and maybe a hundred guards, depending on how many have already been killed."
Fenrir sighed, looking mildly annoyed. "We're on slow approach. To avoid suspicion, only a handful of crew members have been briefed. We still have three hours before docking, so..."
He smirked.
"We'll be shooting you ahead. Out of one of the missile silos."
I stared at him, speechless.
Traveler had told me about doing something similar once—though in his case, it had been for his own insane amusement.
"The station's defences won't register you as a threat if you drift in like debris," Fenrir continued. "No thrusters, no fire. If we're lucky, the scanners will ignore you entirely."
I squinted at him. "...Why do I feel like you're enjoying this?"
"Hehe. Relax," he said, grinning like a fox. "If we had a better plan, we'd use it. But your Knight is the only one on this warship with silent flight capabilities. Besides, Andromeda will handle the trajectory calculations."
Every rational instinct in my body told me not to go along with this insanity.
But Andromeda had already agreed.
And if I pulled this off... saving a member of the Empress's family? That would all but guarantee me a promotion to major after the battalion experience.
"I'll do it," I said, then muttered under my breath, "but that doesn't mean it's any less insane."
"Traveler would say that makes it all the more fun."
Pushing himself off the war table, Fenrir caught me by the shoulder and steered me toward the ship's armaments bay, where the missiles were loaded. "Your friend Sam isn't scheduled to arrive for a few more days, so he's not a part of this, if you were worried about that."
"It's clear they're after the mutated KnightMare's corpse, then," I replied. "This is the only time its location will be confirmed before it's taken to be refined into parts."
"Absolutely. There's a possibility they have knights of their own. And considering how inconspicuous this operation is, the hijackers might have a Constellation Knight on their side, which makes it Freiheit's doing, no doubt. Should a fight between knights break out, avoid damaging your surroundings. Even under enemy control, that station is still the Empire's property," General Fenrir stressed.
"Yes, sir."
I hoped I could do as he said, but if I was forced into combat, even against a standard civilian-model knight, a wall would collapse—if not an entire corridor.
When we arrived at the armament's loading bay, Fenrir left to return to the bridge while I wandered inside. The entire area was almost fully automated, apart from a few overseers who were currently napping on the job.
"Andromeda, where am I going?"
[Serbix forward-facing homing missile launcher, Slayer-grade. Third row. The silos will be big enough for me to fit into while in my knight form.]
Following Andromeda's guidance, I reached the massive launcher and unhooked him from my belt, plugging him into the control terminal beside the great rectangular structure looming overhead.
[Beginning targeting sequence...]
With a mechanical bang, the missile launcher jolted forward, and I heard multiple hatches cycle open and close on the opposite side. My helmet slid into place from my waist as I checked my handgun, ensuring it was loaded.
[Current distance: 310,009 kilometres and rapidly decreasing. Wind: zero knots, no direction. Estimated firing range: 305,994 kilometres. Projectile mass: 23 tonnes. Targeting module set. Collect me and climb inside, pilot.]
Above me, a silo hatch hissed open, revealing a hollow space just large enough for a giant bullet twenty feet tall and six feet wide. As Andromeda shifted into his Knight form in front of me, I hesitated.
"Are you sure about this?" I asked, nerves creeping into my voice as I leapt up and climbed inside the mech's cockpit.
[There is a 71% chance of success,] Andromeda replied as the silo hatch sealed shut behind us, enclosing us both in near-perfect darkness. The only illumination came from the faint glow of Andromeda's body.
"And the other 29%?" I asked warily.
[There is a 29% chance of being crushed on impact. Dismemberment may also occur. There is also the possibility of anti-air defences puncturing through your body before entry.]
I instantly regretted asking. The missile silo's top hatch groaned open, aligning perfectly with the distant space station—no more than a speck in the void. Steam flooded into the silo, and the ominous hum of charging mechanisms filled my ears. The launch system was priming itself. Andromeda cycled the energy in his core.
[Trust me,] he said.
And without hesitation, I did.
In an instant, Andromeda's metal body was hurled forward, propelled by magnetic rails and a burst of compressed steam. The acceleration slammed into me like a shockwave, my body crushed against the seat as we tore through space at Mach speeds. Faster. Faster.
Then, the pressure vanished.
Drifting through the void, I carefully maneuvered Andromeda using jets of cold helium gas, reorienting him as we rapidly closed in on the space station. In under a minute, we were within range. The station's automated defences detected us, the anti-air guns swivelling to track our approach—only to abruptly look away.
The station's outer hull rushed toward us at an alarming speed. At the last second, I threw Andromeda's hands forward, releasing waves of chilling gas from his shoulders and arms to slow our descent. The impact was still heavy, but controlled. We had landed.
[Well done, pilot,] Andromeda said. [The biggest hurdle is behind us. From now on, it's just us.]
Dizzy, I bit my tongue and mumbled, "I can't feel my face."
[Making note to improve gravity dampeners. Lack of sensation is natural after experiencing heavy G-force. It will return momentarily,] Andromeda reassured. [We must press on quickly to the maintenance hatch before we can properly address this. Location marked on your display.]
The countdown timer on my visor showed how much oxygen I had left. Not a comfortable amount. Thankfully, the airlock was nearby, giving me a third of my reserve to spare.
Reaching out, Andromeda's hand grasped the red handle, turning it. The hatch opened with a hiss, venting the remaining atmosphere into space. Climbing inside, I shut the hatch behind me. The airlock cycled, filling with breathable air.
Disembarking from Andromeda, I reverted him to his card form and clipped him back onto my belt. Approaching the inner airlock door, I peered through its small glass window. Clear.
"Andromeda, can you hack into the station's security cameras?"
A static buzz crackled in my ear. [Not with the time available to us, pilot. However, I can distort nearby cameras, forcing them into looped feeds. If we reach the security centre, I may be able to take control of the station's defences, allowing us to rout the hijackers and locate the VIP.]
"That'll work. Do the same for all security sensors around me. I'm heading to the security center now."
The airlock door hissed open. Gun raised, I checked both ends of the corridor—empty. Moving swiftly, I took cover at the next intersection.
"If the layout is similar to Epsilon Station, the security center should be on the third level. We're probably on level seventy."
Navigating the desolate halls, I remained cautious. Something felt wrong. There were too few hijackers. Could they all be in the hangar, waiting for *Faraway in Winter* to dock? If so, I might be able to incite an uprising—arming the hostages from the armory.
Reaching the elevator, I stopped. Voices.
Ducking behind a steel pillar, I listened as two men approached.
"Jeez. The boss sure is paranoid, huh?"
"You're telling me. As long as we get the mission done, it doesn't matter."
Peeking out, I spotted an insignia on their backs—a broken sword beneath a hammer.
"Andromeda, is that symbol in your database?"
[It belongs to Freiheit, an insurrectionist faction based in the Greyrot Quadrant. Originally a coalition of frontier worlds that resisted annexation by the Empire, they were overtaken sixty years ago by a rogue AI. Since then, they've engaged in continued acts of rebellion and terrorism.]
The elevator doors slid open. The two men stepped inside, descending out of sight.
Stepping out from behind the pillar, I exhaled sharply through my combat helmets face. "So, we know our enemy now. Not that it makes things any easier. Continuing to the security center."