The Nymphas military transports descended from the atmosphere, landing both inside and outside the base of the orbital defence cannon. Troops poured out, quickly establishing control, extinguishing fires, and sweeping through the wreckage of destroyed droids. The battle was won.
In the medical tent, a doctor checked me over, her hands swift but efficient as she assessed my injuries. She rubbed something over my ribs and ankles, the bio-foam already sinking into my skin with a faint, cooling sting.
"It's mostly bruising, with a few minor fractures in your ribs and ankles," she concluded. "Your AKP metabolism will accelerate the healing, but it'll take about a week for full recovery. I highly recommend you stay off your feet until then."
"Understood, madam." I pulled my blouse and vest back down, relieved it wasn't worse.
When that knight had brought down the rafters with his hammer, my boost-pack had managed to slow my fall, but not enough. The swinging debris had still sent me crashing to the ground, nearly burying me alive.
"Here." The doctor handed me a pair of crutches, delivered by a passing soldier. "These should ease the pressure while walking. Just take it easy."
"Thank you." As I stood, pain lanced through my feet—sharp, searing, like a thousand tiny daggers slicing from the inside. I gritted my teeth, shifting my weight onto the crutches, the relief immediate.
From a nearby cot, Alex grinned at me, waving the bandaged stump where his right arm used to be. "Seems like someone got out better than the rest of us."
Beyond him, Lance Corporal Evan's men were sprawled across their beds, passed out from exhaustion.
I hesitated before limping over to Alex's bedside. "They couldn't save it?"
Still high on painkillers, Alex chuckled. "Hehehe~ nope. Radius and ulna were shattered in five different places, nerves completely fried. Lucky I got to keep the elbow, at least. But hey, looks like I'm getting that prosthetic arm after all!"
A small smirk tugged at my lips. "You'll look great with it."
The words felt hollow, though. Guilt gnawed at me. If I hadn't gone in without Andromeda, Alex wouldn't have needed to protect me while I ran. He wouldn't have lost his arm.
At the time, I had been thinking tactically—keeping the insurgent knight trapped, cutting off their escape. But I had ignored Alex's capability, treating him like a liability instead of an asset. He may be a novice, but he's been a soldier longer than I have.
"I'm... sorry for your arm."
Alex's grin disappeared. He stared at me for a moment, then scowled.
"It's not your damn fault," he snapped, startling me. "Hell, I'm lucky that hammer didn't crush Boötes outright. If anything, I should be thanking you. If you hadn't shown up, I'd be dead. Simple as that."
His expression softened again, a half-smirk creeping back. "Besides, I still owe you for saving my ass when we dropped from orbit. Heh."
I bobbed my head, but I still didn't feel convinced. How could he be so indifferent about losing an arm? Maybe it was the drugs, or maybe he really did want that prosthetic.
Or maybe... maybe he just refused to dwell on the loss.
"Ey~ so you can smile," Alex teased, pointing at my face. "Y'know, you've got a really cute face. You should try smiling more."
"I'll try," I muttered, barely suppressing a yawn.
I had been awake for over 18 hours. From traveling through the warp tunnel, aiding the Ishimura, and then the battle for this base, it had been five of the most stressful hours of my life.
"I need to check in with Andy and Boötes. Any messages?"
Alex grinned. "Yeah—tell Boötes he sucks at being a ghost."
I snorted. "I'll be sure to let him know."
Hobbling outside, I was immediately hit by the morning light. The planet's night was only four hours? No wonder the attack timing had worked so well.
Around me, more ships descended from the sky, bringing reinforcements and supplies. Nicole and Jason are probably among them now that the base is secured.
I passed a few engineers staring at the blown-out vault door.
"How the hell did that brat and that girl bust this thing open?"
"Looks like the hinges were melted clean through with a mass of thermite. Then they must've charged through with a Knight."
"That's like twenty three-foot-wide metal locks! Where the hell did they get that much thermite?"
I smirked as I approached the one responsible. "How are you holding up, Andy?"
Andromeda remained slumped against the building, his legs still severed just below the knees. Steam vented from his joints—his equivalent of a sigh.
[You should be resting, Pilot.] His modulated voice carried its usual authority. [Repair engineers have requested the necessary supplies to reattach my legs and reinforce the knee-plate connectors.]
I sat down on the toe of his severed limb, resting my weight. "What's the situation with Boötes?"
A harsh, garbled stutter crackled through Boötes' voice modulator. [M-My repair-r will take much longer-r.]
He barely moved, his massive frame still slumped where it had fallen. Half his chest had been caved in, but the dull red glow of his eyes still flickered.
[H-How is... Pilot Cyonis?]
"He'll live," I reassured him. "Lost his right arm, though."
At my words, Boötes relaxed—his body slackening with a slow, metallic creak. He slid down the building slightly, his back hitting the ground with a loud thud that startled the nearby troops.
[That is good.] He exhaled a sound like static. [Thank you again for your assistance against that knight, Pilot Firefly.]
I scoffed. "Please—I nearly got myself killed. It was you and Alex who did everything."
[Negative.] Boötes' tone was resolute. [My Constellation Drive's charge is limited. Due to its immense power requirements, it can only be used for three hours before requiring a twenty-one hour recharge. Much of its reserves were spent destroying the Freiheit Bulwark's reactor. There was not enough power left for a full escape after our surprise attack failed.]
My expression darkened. "...You never mentioned that."
[It... was not deemed relevant at the time.]
I shot him a glare, and for a moment, the massive machine actually turned his head away, almost like a child avoiding scolding.
"You really don't know how to communicate, do you?"
[Boötes is a system control AI. His tactical awareness is not as advanced as it should be,] Andromeda chided, sparing me the need to say it myself. [That is why he and his pilot must always have strategically aware allies to track his output. While he can commandeer almost any enemy gear for a highly destructive effect, he requires oversight—similar to the 'ghost train' phenomena.]
[Such things do not exist, Andromeda,] Boötes scoffed, his tone clipped. [And you are no better, ignoring all factors outside yourself in your tactics.] Frustrated with his broken right arm, he began wrenching at it, as if trying to tear it off himself.
Andromeda, unbothered, responded coolly. [All factors are registered. They are simply inconsequential—including your current battle aptitude with Pilot Cyonis.]
Before Boötes could retort, Andromeda reached over and helped him rip the damaged limb from its shoulder socket with an ear-piercing screech of metal.
I couldn't help but laugh at the two of them.
Despite all the brooding and regret, despite everything that had happened between them, it was clear they had made up—though Andromeda refused to admit it and Boötes hadn't realized it yet.
A soft click of a camera shutter echoed somewhere nearby. I ignored it, choosing instead to enjoy the moment.
Then, a familiar voice rang out across the salvage yard.
"Firefly!!"
Turning, I spotted Nicole sprinting toward me, her expression less than pleased. I lifted an arm and waved lazily.
"There you are! What did you do with my drone?! That one was expensive."
"Andy has it."
Without hesitation, Andromeda reached over his shoulder, shifting forward slightly, and extended the small recon drone from his shoulder compartment.
"The commander droid is up in the control centre. Head separated from its shoulders, if you want to do anything with it."
Nicole smirked. "Oh, I already stopped by."
She reached into her pack and pulled out a jagged, wolf-like metal head, its optics dark and lifeless.
"Figured we'd keep it as a trophy for the end of your first op." She twirled it slightly before tucking it back into her bag. "But I also found something interesting in its memory banks. This guy was overseeing nearly all enemy spy operations. Those officers we killed? They were his operatives' coordinators. His goal was to locate a viable site for a new warp tunnel."
I frowned. "That sounds like something we should report to High Command."
Nicole nodded. "Jason's already handling it. Once the signal jammer station is destroyed, we'll be in the clear." She exhaled, rubbing her temples. "It does mean, though, that there could be more warp tunnels out there between the Fourth and Fifth Sectors than we initially thought. Unofficial ones. If that's the case, it's going to be a nightmare trying to track them all down."
Movement caught my eye.
The engineering team had finally arrived, their transport pulling up with a crane and a loaded truck trailing behind. They wasted no time dismounting and immediately set to work, prioritizing Andromeda first since his damage was less extensive.
Nicole and I stepped aside, watching as they began manoeuvring his severed thigh and foot back into position.
After a moment, she glanced at me and gestured toward the crutches under my arms. "What's with those?"
"Fractured a few ribs and both feet after falling twenty-five feet and getting smacked into a walkway. Got some bruises and swelling, but the doctor says I'll be fine in a week. Bio-foam handled most of it."
Nicole snorted. "Lucky for you, then. The journey to Nymphar takes two weeks. We'll barely make it in time for the ordainment ceremony, but the festival will already be in full swing." She groaned, slapping her forehead. "Ugh, the Field Marshal is so going to chew us out again."
"We'll leave as soon as Andromeda is fully repaired, then."
Jason's voice cut in suddenly, as if he had materialized from thin air.
Nicole startled, shooting him an unimpressed look. "Damn it, Jason, wear a bell or something."
Ignoring her, Jason crossed his arms. "I've already sent the mission reports to High Command. We can depart as soon as you're both ready."
Nicole, still rubbing her face, mumbled, "You think the Marshal will cut us some slack for accelerating the war effort?"
Jason's expression remained flat. "Not on his life."
Nicole groaned dramatically. "Ugh. Why did I ask?"
Jason turned to me, his sharp gaze scanning my injuries with mild interest. Satisfied that I wasn't in any real danger, he gave a slight nod. "Well done, Firefly. Good work."
Nicole clapped me on the shoulder, grinning. "Yeah! You handled the last stretch of the mission solo—nice work!"
A little embarrassed, I glanced away. But then I remembered something important.
Alex.
If I left things as they were, he'd just get dragged back into General Rafellan's control—the same brutal cycle, the same inevitable end.
"Do you two think you could help someone transfer to a different battalion?"
Jason and Nicole exchanged glances, their expressions shifting to mild suspicion. "Who?" Jason asked.
I quickly explained everything, taking them to Alex and letting him recount his story first-hand. The moment he finished, they agreed without hesitation. And so, we got to work.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of a roar.
"WHERE IS HE?! WHERE'S MAJOR CYONIS?! WHERE IS MY PRIZED WAR HORSE?! HAH?"
The guttural bellow sent an electric jolt through my body, jerking me awake.
My vision was a mess of tangled, unkempt hair, my head still heavy with exhaustion.
Beside me, in the hospital bed to my right, Alex sat frozen, his face slick with sweat. His expression wasn't just fear. It was the look he should have had when he realized his arm was gone forever.
The moment General Rafellan burst into the medical tent, the air itself seemed to grow heavier. His presence was suffocating, a walking wall of muscle and anger that exuded nothing but raw dominance. He didn't spare a glance for the countless wounded soldiers, didn't acknowledge the moans of pain or the metallic stench of blood. His sharp eyes locked onto Alex, a predator spotting wounded prey.
"Where is my greeting, Major?"
Alex barely had time to react before Rafellan was on him. The boy had to scramble out of his bed, hurriedly lifting his left arm in salute—the only arm he had left.
"Y-yes, General Rafellan!"
His right sleeve hung empty, a grim testament to everything he had been through. But Rafellan didn't care. His expression twisted, eyes flashing with something between rage and disgust.
And then he grabbed Alex by the collar.
"Who do you think you are to go AWOL like that, huh? Not only did you abandon your post in a desertion attempt, but you left your men behind to finish the mission for you! And now you come back like this?! Getting yourself wounded—like you think you can just leave whenever you want?!" His grip tightened, veins bulging in his neck as his voice dripped with venom. "No matter what state you're in, boy, I own you. As soon as you're discharged, don't expect to get any rest. You're mine."
That was enough.
Grabbing Rafellan's wrist, I yanked Alex free. "Major Cyonis did his job. It was my fault he fell in orbit, and it's my fault he lost his arm."
Rafellan's gaze snapped to me. Confusion flickered across his face for half a second before recognition settled in.
"Who the hell are y—oh... you're Andromeda's new pilot, aren't you? Saw you on the news five months back."
He leaned in, his breath hot and sour, his expression twisted into something worse than rage—amusement.
"You're a little pretty to be a soldier, aren't ya?" His voice dripped with mockery, his lips curling into a slow, cruel smile. "Why don't I help change that? You'll fit in better that way, bitch. Now stop meddling in my work, or I'll deal with you later."
He moved to push past me, reaching for Alex again.
I didn't move.
"He's not yours."
Rafellan froze. His expression darkened, his lips twisting into a sneer. "The fuck did you just say to me, Second-Lieutenant?" He stepped closer, his sheer size towering over me like a mountain. "Of course he's mine. He's part of my battalion. Has been for the last three fuckin' years."
A new voice cut through the tension.
"According to these papers, he's actually part of my battalion as of last night."
We all turned toward the entrance.
Standing there, holding open the tent flap, was a man with sharp, golden hair and an air of effortless authority. His uniform was pristine, his stance relaxed—but his eyes burned with the weight of command.
Rafellan tensed immediately. "Vice-General Benjamin, it's—"
"It's General Benjamin now, Rafellan. Of the Infinite Forest Knight Battalion." Benjamin's voice was calm, measured, but it carried the weight of a thousand unspoken threats. He held up a set of official documents, their edges still crisp. "If you even think about attacking my attendant or his friend, I'll put you deeper underground this time, you dumb bull."
Rafellan's eyes flicked to the papers, calculating. Then, in one swift motion, Benjamin tucked them into his coat pocket.
Rafellan knew he had lost. And he hated it. With a final snarl of frustration, he stormed out of the tent, his voice rising into a wordless scream of rage as he disappeared into the night.
The moment he was gone, the air felt lighter.
Alex blinked, still processing. "W-what are you doing here?"
Benjamin let out a slow breath, striding forward to sit on the edge of Alex's bed. His golden eyes softened. "I just finished collecting the last of my new battalion members and started heading here to assist in Duradel's capture. Didn't expect to find a transfer request from your new lady friend waiting for me when I was a few hours out. How's it been without me?"
Alex's breath hitched. He fought hard to maintain his composure, blinking rapidly to keep his emotions at bay. "It's been tough, sir."
"I'm sure it has." Benjamin's hand landed firmly on Alex's shoulder. "We'll get you patched up on the new cruiser. Give the new engineers and doctors their first real challenge Then you can head to Nymphar with her for a well-earned holiday before coming back to help me conquer this planet. Sound good?"
I blinked. "He's coming with us?"
"He is?!" Nicole's voice piped up from the plastic window of the tent. "Well, at least Jason will finally have another boy to talk to on the ship. Assuming Jason even talks to him, that is."
"Hooray," Jason muttered flatly, suddenly appearing inside the tent. He didn't look particularly thrilled. "Guess that means we're postponing our departure for a few more hours."