Knight | ナイト

You would think that having fewer soldiers in the gymnasium running drills every day would make it a quieter space. Daily drills used to mean a couple hundred Star Warriors in here, all either sparring with each other, practicing moving in formation, or being taught specialized attacks by officers and higher-ranked enlistees. Now, though, only around four dozen of us occupy the space, our numbers down to around a sixth of their peak. So many of our numbers left the same week as Pax and Gibbous, hurrying home to heroes' welcomes despite, as in many of our cases, having accomplished nothing heroic in their time here. In the three months or so since, only a few new enlistees have shown up. In the same time, a few dozen more have left.

Oddly enough, though, the lack of training soldiers has the opposite effect on the gym's noise level that one would expect, or at least it feels like it does. There aren't as many figures in here to help catch the sounds before they have the chance to echo off the metal ceiling and walls, so every clang of a sword, every twang of a crossbow, every crash of a readied shield, builds upon and over itself into a crashing cacophony.

Ignoring the noise, I focus instead on my current spar, set against one of the officers. Usually they have me spar with the other enlistees, but doing so doesn't provide me much more than the most basic maintenance of my skills. I have to constantly dumb down my abilities to avoid just plowing over most of my opponents. At least with the officers, I have to actually try.

Stumbling back from a swing of my plain silver sword, Captain Halter quickly rights himself and readies a parry. Suddenly, though, the light green Star Warrior with masked orange eyes stands at attention. "Major Aperture, Sir."

Spinning on my heel, I quickly stand alert too when I see the unmasked, muted-red Star Warrior who stands not far from us, gloves tucked behind his back. "Major Aperture."

The leader of the base inclines his head towards us in a quick dip of acknowledgement. His gray eyes are calm. "At ease, gentlemen. Captain, you're dismissed. Corporal, with me, please."

"Sir," Captain Halter interrupts cautiously. "Is everything al—"

"Captain, you know as well as I do that Corporal Knight has never done anything worthy of admonition, much less disciplinary action. He's not in trouble; I just need to speak with him briefly." The Major's barely-accented voice is calm, even, just like the rest of the levelheaded demeanor he forever gives off. Even though I don't like the air of apathy much of the brass seems to show the seemingy-dormant war, I appreciate the way Major Aperture never seems to be truly surprised or alarmed by anything. It makes a soldier trust him as a leader. "You're free to go, Captain. Go spar with another enlistee. If anyone asks, tell them Corporal Knight has been relieved from training for the day."

Captain Halter gives me another glance, more curious now than anything, and gives the superior officer a quick bow. "Major." He inclines his head to me just as Major Aperture did to the two of us moments ago. "Corporal." With that, he turns curtly away and approaches a group of sword-wielding Star Warriors running drills against indestructible dummies.

Without speaking further, Major Aperture beckons me to follow him. Quickly sheathing my sword, I do so.

I haven't ever really earned the Major's notice. He mostly stays in his office, attending to the more bureaucratic aspects of keeping the base running. Once in a while, he gives us an address, usually updates on the war's progress elsewhere or major news from Star World regarding politics or the like. On holidays, he thanks those of us who are stuck staying here rather than visiting home; the standard 'have a nice day; I'm sorry you're stuck here for it' speech. Besides that, he isn't around the enlistees very often. And yet, unlike some members of the brass, he doesn't give off vibes of snobbery or undue superiority.

The Major leads me out of the gymnasium, into the halls. He is shorter than me by a negligible amount, but somehow takes longer strides. I have to walk quickly to keep up with his curt pace. As we near the center of the base, the mess hall, I debate speaking to ask what's going on.

"You don't have to be so tense, son. As I said, you're not in trouble." The Major's voice is still calm, but conveys kind intent. He pauses walking for a moment, so I stop right behind him. He turns to face me. "Quite the opposite. You're one of our best-behaved, most-upright enlistees, so I'm asking a favor."

My brow furrows slightly in response to that statement. I have no idea what I could offer as assistance to someone so much more high ranking than me that couldn't just constitute a normal order. Still, though, best to be cooperative. "Of course, Major. Whatever you need."

His eyes crinkle at the corners in a smile, albeit a small one. "Good man. We'll be heading for the hangar—I'll explain the rest as we go." He turns again, continuing to head to the center of the base.

Blinking in surprise that we'll be leaving the main building, I hurry to follow him once again.

We reach the mess hall, and he holds the door into the large central room open for me. "You see, Corporal, we have a new enlistee coming in today." I frown at that, wondering what on Star World that could have to do with me. A burst of hope fills me that maybe it's Forest and somehow Aperture knew I was looking for him, followed by a burst of dread that it's my father, somehow here to ruin my life all over again. "She's... well." He sighs as both of my previous guesses go flying once again off into orbit. Confusion takes over my thoughts once more. 'She?' It couldn't possibly be— "Let's just say that it seems miraculous she made it through basic without getting court marshalled or dismissed." I stare ahead at him, ever more lost. "To her credit, she doesn't appear to have started any of the brawls she wound up in—she just appears incredibly good at ending them. Which, of course, would prove helpful in combat, but when it's taking the form of friendly fire, well..."

Despite myself, I can't help but feel a bit frustrated at the Major's apparent inability to get to the point. We leave the central hub of the mess hall through the main exit, out into the chilly, stagnant air of the canyon-crisscrossed planet outside. "Sir, I don't understand. Why—"

"I know, I know; I'm probably not making much sense." About halfway between the base proper and the main hangar, he stops yet again. Again, he turns to face me. "This enlistee, all we—we being the Army as a whole—know about her is that she's taken the name Seraph, and that she's of Reverence Clan—at least, so the rumors that the other trainees at the Academy have been spreading about her say. She's like you; all that's in her file as of her date of enlistment is her new name. She too is a so-called 'Clean Slater.'" I blink in surprise at the fact that apparently, the Major has taken the time to look at my file. He either doesn't notice, or doesn't care enough to comment on my surprise. "Though in Private Seraph's case, it seems a lot more understandable that she'd want to start fresh. It makes far more sense that someone so ornery would have something she needed to hide."

"These brawls—why does she keep getting involved in them, if she doesn't start them?" I question, still confused, especially as to what part I could possibly play in this mess.

He shrugs. "It's... complicated. Seems that once the idea got started that she's supposedly Reverence Clan, the teasing started. You know that always happens; good natured ribbing of the so-called 'holy ones.' But... it seems she didn't take kindly to it. Got annoyed, bristly, told people to stop. That combined with her... rather brusque manner and apparent refusal to so much as speak to anyone when she doesn't have to singled her out as a popular target for frustration and pent-up energy among the other trainees at basic. And, well, she'd hold back until someone got physical, pushing or shoving, and then all bets were off once she had an excuse."

He shakes his head and sighs. "She hasn't seriously injured anybody, of course, but brawling in the ranks is obviously forbidden. And the bad actors amid the trainees took advantage of this, placing bets and all that nonsense on who could or couldn't best her, and it just kept escalating until she had to essentially be pulled out of the pool of trainees and kept almost in detention until basic was up."

I shake my head, puzzled. "Why was she the one pulled if she wasn't the one starting the fights? I don't understand. Wouldn't it've made more sense to deal with the troublemakers—"

"The Academy officers didn't want to cause any more trouble than necessary, Corporal, or interrupt the training of any more soldiers than they had to. It was far simpler to remove the catalyst of the issues than to weed out multiple trainees pushing their boundaries to see what they could get away with."

I frown deeper, wanting to ask why we'd want such recruits in the ranks anyway, but think twice about questioning the brass too much.

Major Aperture, meanwhile, glances up at the sky, at a quickly-descending twelve-man transport ship. "And there's the transport." He resumes his quick walk towards the hangar. "Come, she'll be here any minute."

I follow. "Major, I still don't understand what I have to do with—"

"It's like this," he sighs. "They sent her out here because there's almost nobody out here, so she'll have a harder time getting in trouble. But the last thing I need is a new Private—an undertrained Private at that, considering she missed so much of basic—acting as a magnet for disruption." He hurries in through one of several open garage doors that serve as the hangar's primary entrances. "Corporal Knight, you're calm, even-headed, well-behaved, and great with a sword. Besides that, you're one of the few soldiers who's been here long enough that I know I can trust you, who isn't also raring to get out of here the first chance that shows up."

I incline my head towards his back in silent thanks for the praise, though I know he can't see it. Habit at this point, I guess.

He keeps talking, finally getting to the point. "I'm assigning you to keep an eye on her, keep her out of trouble, and help her get some fighting skills. Anytime she's not on her hall, Private Seraph is to be under your supervision—training, off hours, mess hours, all of it." I can't help but stumble a bit in shock at this ridiculous demand. "Of course, when it's off hours, I leave it to your discretion to drop her off at her hall if you don't want to deal with her. I'm not going to make you be stuck looking after her all the time."

I shake my head, still stunned at the audacity of this demand. "Major—I—I don't understand. If she's such a magnet for trouble, then how could I keep her from getting—"

"Like I said, Corporal. You're our golden child, so to speak, at Base B-612." The Major beckons me with a jerk of his head into one of the waiting rooms of sorts as the landing transport roars too loudly for us to keep conversing otherwise. "If there's anyone who can keep her out of trouble and get Private Seraph to act with a bit more decorum and a bit less sheer spite at everything that breathes, it's you." He sighs wearily, raising his eyes to the heavens as if in a plea for patience. "The Academy officers told me a couple weeks ago that she'd be sent here, and filled me in on all the trouble she's played central figure to. It wasn't until one of the other officers suggested your assistance yesterday that I had any idea what I was going to do with her."

I exhale in frustration, unable to help myself. I hate being around people any more than I have to, especially people I don't know. The last thing I want is having to be some brawl-attracting Private's behavioral escort. "Major—"

He raises his gloves towards me in an almost-pleading fashion. "Look, Corporal. I understand this is asking a lot of you, son, and definitely not anything you contractually signed up for. I'll see you're rewarded for this. What do you want? A promotion? I can do that. A raise? Don't tell the other soldiers, of course, but I can easily arrange for that too."

I exhale slowly through my nose. He's giving off an air of cooperation about this. But I know that though it's framed as a request, this is still an order. I'm not gonna be able to back out of it, at least not without giving it a proper try first. Might as well get something good out of it. "...I haven't had a bunkmate since Corporal Gibbous and Private First Class Pax finished their tours a few months ago. I'd... appreciate if it could be arranged that it would stay that way."

He tilts his head in surprise, but half closes his eyes in thought. A moment later, he nods. "I can make that happen, sure, though it seems an odd thing to request. I'd think you'd be asking the opposite, honestly; must get lonely in there." He shrugs. "Still, son, I can do that. And I'll do you one better—I'll add to your file that you need single-occupant quarters whenever they're available and it's feasible for you to have them. That way, however long you stay an army man, you'll have your own space." He opens his eyes fully again, looking firmly into mine. "Do we have a deal, Corporal Knight?"

I hesitate half a second, then nod, standing at attention. "Aye-aye, Major. I'll... 'monitor' this... 'Private Seraph' for you." Such a unique name. It definitely gives off Reverence Clan vibes, though I can't fully put my finger on why.

The Major's eyes crinkle once again into an almost-paternal sort of smile. "Good man." The outside roaring of the ship has vanished now, as the engine has disengaged and begun the cooling process. "Come on, then. Let's get you your new ward."

Bemused by the whole situation, I follow Major Aperture back into the hangar proper. He stops near the end of the gangplank that's just run itself down from the main entrance to the transport ship.

As I take a place just beside and behind him, he speaks to me once more, quiet, out of the corner of his mouth. "And a word of advice, Corporal—don't mention her appearance."

"What?" I can't help but question, only for the door of the ship to go sliding open a moment later.

A masked black Star Warrior departs first, carrying a heavy-looking plastic crate of supplies. "Come on then, ya sullen thing," he hollers back up over his shoulder, Honesty-Clan accent laced with fierce annoyance. "Ye'll not be mah problem much longer; thank th'stars for that."

Frowning after him as he storms past the two of us, I raise my eyes once again to the gangplank, having no idea what to expect to see walking out from it next.

I don't have to wonder for long.

In a slow, almost bored manner, an unmasked, heterochromatic Star Warrior walks into the doorway, and then leans against the jamb, crossing her gloves. I blink in surprise, understanding now why the Major said not to mention her appearance—I've seen Splits before, of course, but it's not often you see one with such vivid and different colors halving them. Bright pink on one side, and an equally-bright hue of blue on the other, in this one's case.

Her mismatched eyes quickly find Major Aperture and I at the bottom of the gangplank. She gives the Major a cursory glance, probably just enough to establish him as an officer, and then looks to me instead. Her eyes scan me top to bottom and back up, seeming unimpressed when they meet mine. "I take it you're my officially-assigned babysitter." Her words are not a question.

I stare up at her, trying to ready an answer, but Major Aperture speaks for me. "Private Seraph, this is Corporal Knight. He'll be monitoring you and looking after you to make sure we don't... end up with anymore, shall we say, 'unfortunate situations' like what kept plaguing you at the Academy."

She snorts slightly. "How many times do I have to tell you people that I didn't start anything. I never attacked first."

Major Aperture inhales next to me, sharply enough for me to hear it but probably quiet enough that she can't. "I understand that, and that's why further measures haven't been taken there and won't be taken here—assuming you remain on your best behavior." He tilts his head at me, still looking up at her. "In a sense, Corporal Knight will also be your bodyguard. He'll make sure no one starts anything."

I glance over at him, still not quite sure how I feel about this whole situation. I wish I'd had more forewarning. Then again, the shock was probably intentional, to give me less time to object. "Hullo, Private," I call up to her, trying my best to make my voice friendly.

She answers Major Aperture's declaration, instead. "How absolutely chivalrous of him," she mutters, before turning to look at me. I'm not sure what accent she has. Similar to Major Aperture's, it lacks the strong accent one would associate with most Clans or Provinces, which leads me to think some parts of Central Courage. But even then, it doesn't feel to fit that category perfectly, leading me to think it's actually a mix of accents that work to cancel each other out, rather than a sort of absence of one. She nods at me once. "You look pretty young, Blueboy, even with that mask on. How old are you?"

Taken aback, I answer without thinking. "Twenty-two."

"Drat. So you're older," she mutters, finally starting her way down the gangplank in the same bored way she entered the door. "I was hoping I would be."

"Why?" I question, confused.

"It wouldn't matter even if you were," Major Aperture chides. "He outranks you, Private. Things work differently here in the Army. Hierarchies abound, yes, but they're not necessarily based on age."

She ignores him, her attention now on me as she draws closer. She's a little bit shorter than Aperture, but tall in comparison to most females of our species, I feel like. "Shiny armor. Pretty cape. Golden trimming and everything." Her eyes raise to meet mine. "Rich kid?"

I feel a growing sense of irritation, partially directed at her but mostly at the Major for getting me into this mess. "Hardly," I answer her in my carefully-maintained Chivalry accent.

Major Aperture gives an obviously-forced startle next to me. "Would you look at the time. I'd better get back to my office; duty calls, and all. Well, I'll leave you to it. Corporal, Private." With a final nod at each of us, he goes hurrying away.

I turn to watch him leave, feeling like I have so many more questions but having no idea how to voice any of them.

Seraph ignores him, addressing me instead. "They all that fake, Blueboy? The brass, I mean. Sure seemed like it back at the Academy, too."

I exhale in frustration, turning to face her. Her face is set in stone, still fully unimpressed. One blue eye surrounded by pink and one pink eye surrounded by blue continue to scan my face, as if she's still not sure whether to take me seriously at all.

"Don't call me 'Blueboy,'" I start with. "My name is Knight. You may refer to me as Corporal Knight, or simply Corporal." She rolls her eyes, but I pretend to ignore it. "Would you prefer that I refer to you as Private or—"

"Just Seraph is fine," she says with a shrug, finally taking her eyes off of me. Walking past me, she mutters, "You don't have to fake respect with me. I don't bother with it, so."

I blink after her, quickly turning to follow her out of the hangar. "You know you have to stay where I can see you, correct—"

She snorts. "Yeah, yeah. Like I implied earlier, I got the rundown. I know you're my babysitter." She throws her gloves behind her head, still walking slowly away from the hangar and towards the mined canyons outside. "But I promise you, I can look after myself. I'm not looking to cause trouble. I'm just not gonna sit around and be some kind of pretty doormat, either." She looks over at me, gaze somehow wary. "So. Why'd they pick you to be stuck with me?"

Her scathing manner is so strange to me. Most Star Warrior women tend to be polite; gentle even if not always polished. She's definitely not in hag territory or the like, the sort of woman who ends up in cautionary tales told to little kids about what not to look for in a mate (for boys) or what not to grow up to be (for girls). She's also definitely nothing like Blossom, for example, either.

"I guess I was a little too much your opposite," I reply, unable to prevent a little bit of frustration from entering my voice. "Major Aperture said that I'm since I'm so, well, well-behaved, he thought I'd... have some sort of luck keeping you out of trouble."

She snorts, looking away from me again. "So the good kid got stuck with the so-labelled problem child. That sounds about right." She stops in the middle of the rocky wasteland and looks around herself, taking everything in. "So. I'll ask again. Are all of the brass that fake?"

I hesitate a second before answering carefully. "I wouldn't go so far as to call Major Aperture fake—"

"I would," she interrupts under her breath.

Ignoring her interjection, I keep going, "—but yes. They do tend to be very guarded and polished in a way that can feel... ingenuine, at times."

She nods, before continuing. "This place sure is a dump, huh?"

Shaking my head in continued annoyance at her rough manner, I ask a question of my own. "Why are you a 'problem child,' exactly? What... what circumstances make a Reverence Clan person turn out so—"

She growls in answer to my question, a noise I don't think I've ever heard a woman make before. Possibly Blossom, I guess, but no examples spring to mind. "I don't know who started the Reverence Clan rumor, but whether it's true or not, it shouldn't set expectations for how I behave. Who you're born to shouldn't determine the way you act, for goodness' sake. You'd think we'd have figured this stuff out by the seventh century, but oh well." She turns towards the main base building, not waiting to give me a chance to respond. "C'mon. Let's go inside. It's cold out here."

"I think you're technically supposed to follow me," I sputter after her. She ignores me. "Fine, I won't make assumptions based on your purported clan, but still. You just got here and you're already acting like you have a personal grudge against everyone. Why would you—"

She suddenly turns on her heel, getting up right up in my masked face. "Look, buddy. I don't talk about my past. I had it all wiped; I don't talk about it. It's gone. And it doesn't matter, especially not to randos like you." I can feel irritation building, making her narrow her eyes at me. "What about you, huh? If you're not a rich kid, why the fancy get-up? Your mask is even a mood ring; that can't have come cheap. What's your story, since you're so eager to ask about my business?" She narrows her eyes further, into what barely amounts to a squint. "And why would a rich kid with such nice toys end up in the middle of nowhere with the rest of us undesirables and nobodies?"

I close my eyes, frustrated that my frustration has gotten strong enough to show through my probably-red eyes. "Fine. Fine. Truce." She takes a step back. I take a deep breath in and out, clearing my head and letting the annoyance fade to an again-manageable level. "I won't ask questions about you, if you don't ask any about me."

"Fair," she agrees with a curt nod, re-opening her eyes. She keeps them leveled on me, though. "And my terms—you don't have to pretend to like me, if I don't have to pretend to like you."

Before I can answer one way or another, she spins on her armored heel again, her metal boots the same standard gray metal as my own. The 'get-up' she keeps making such a big deal out of is just my mask and cape, as far as I can tell; the other items are just standard issue. I don't get why it matters so much to her.

Then again, I just agreed not to let her interest matter to me, either.

I follow after her quick enough to take the lead, ignoring the derisive snort she gives in response as she falls a couple steps behind me. "So, Seraph—you're sure you prefer just 'Seraph?'"

"Unless you just really want to tack the 'Private' on," she mutters behind me, at least seeming to match my pace instead of maintaining her bored, ponderous trudge.

"Alright, so, Private Seraph. I'll show you around the base." I pause before softening the order, feeling as though I should at least try to be civil. "If you'll agree to that."

"I mean, I'm going to be following you around most of the time, so I don't really know if I need to know where stuff is," she mutters. I roll my eyes to myself, but stop halfway through as she continues. "Still, it wouldn't hurt. And I'll admit—I'm a tiny bit curious. Only a tiny bit."

Alright. So apparently she's capable of playing nice in return, at least sometimes. "Well then," I sigh, pushing open the main door into the base and holding it open for her behind me. "Welcome to Base B-612, Private Seraph."

"Charmed, I'm sure," she snarks, though the statement feels less laced with malice than most of her biting remarks thus far. She glances at me, something resembling amusement playing around the corner of her eyes. "Is the whole place this much of a dump?"

I snort despite myself, fighting back a smile. "You're not one to mince words, are you, Private?"

"Never, Corporal." She smirks slightly, seemingly also despite herself. "Get used to it."

I sigh, raising my eyes to the heavens just as Major Aperture did earlier in my own plea for patience. "Certainly seems as though I'll have to."