Chapter 7: Chapter 6 – Cadet Adia A’lve, BMS-SMO Class of 8399-11

The large halls of the third wing of the practical mech driving was ready to burst at the seams as the first years were skittering about. Their neat formal uniforms, a white fitted top with finely crafted epaulets and slim pants tucked into thick soled boots, made for a wonderful view every time enrollment came around.

Contrary to the bubbling anticipation of every other room, room 78-B had a line of freshmen was mustering up their courage as they stared at the course posted on the door. The first-year class Practical Combat was infamous for its gregarious drop-out and repetition rate. The senior students went so far as call it the “sift of the mech operations department”, believing that only those who can endure the hell-like first week would be able to make something of themselves.

Its professor was a strict veteran mech operator who’d served for both the Argan Mech Unit and the Federal T-05 Mech Driving Division. With their reputation, together with the myths that the seniors made up to tease their juniors, just mentioning this class was enough to give any student here palpitations.

While a group of students were pushing each other to enter the room, a tall figure cleared their throat behind them.

“Oh, senior, please.” The group of boys made way for the figure that’d called out to them.

The taller boy nodded at them as he stepped into the room.

Watching him pass-by, one of the boys leaned against his friends. “That was bad for my heart.”

“He’s our classmate?”

“A repeater?”

“Nah, look.” One of their friends discreetly pointed at their scattered few classmates who’d managed to feign calmness. “He has a blue band.”

“Wah, what do you think he ate to be that fit?”

“Excuse me,” a soft voice interrupted them.

The three boys turned around to meet a dainty little sister in a light-colored training suit. Her black hair was parted in the middle and held up by large fluffy hair ties in pig tails. There were small pearls scattered in her hair, a halo almost seemed to float behind her as the light from the planet’s single star shone through.

“Ah, little sister, this is the Mecha Operations department,” the taller one among the boys advised her thinking she was lost and belonged to another department. “The mid-year department is across this campus’ walkway.”

The soft little girl frowned, shoving her hand deep into her training suit’s deep pockets. She pulled out a piece of blue paper, folded into an interesting shape. She unfolded it, raising the over creased paper into the light.

“Huh, is this the Blue Tail building?”  

“Ah – yes. It’s the one with the freshmen classes, so –”

“Then,” she grinned, folding the paper back and placing it at the palm of her hand,” I’m in the right room.” She pushed through them, leaving even those eavesdropping in stunned silence.

Day scanned the room, pausing to consider her options. Groups had already begun forming in the class despite only being half-filled. Too much sunlight. Too much ventilation. Too many tall people. Too many loud people. Aha –

“Excuse me.”

Nate looked up from where he’d been tracing the path of the cord fits for the different synthCrystal ports.

“Is this seat free?”

His brow furrowed at the bright pink monstrosity talking to him. The seats for this class were made so a combat pair, a duo of combatants intent on growing and training together, would not be separated and be able to work together for the projects this class offered. He wasn’t expecting anyone to ask or even try to pair up with him, all things considered.  

“Yeah,” he mumbled while turning away to look for something to rest his eyes.

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“Cool.” The seat was pulled out accompanied with the faint jingling sound.

Fuck, she jingles.

“So,” this little thing had her body turned to him, elbow resting on the desk they shared,” my name is Day. Well, it’s Adia but like Day rolls off the tongue, yeah. So, like it’s just Day.”

Should he answer? God, he hoped that the professor would assign someone else to him.

“Well, anyway, I totes understand that you’re nervous but like – you know, I’d like to at least not have to keep calling you, well, you.”

“Nate, just Nate.”

“Cool, cool. Nate! Hiya!” She smiled up at him, eyes squeezed into crescents.

 “Come in, everyone. Though I appreciate your goodwill, you don’t have to wait outside the class to greet me,” a dry voice called out from the open doorway. “I’d like it better if you all found your seats before I’d even get a chance to glance at this door.” The professor punctuated the last three words by smacking the door. Boom. Boom. Boom.

The students who had been waiting outside trickled into the room, heads bowed as they scrambled to find empty seats. In loose training gear, the professor walked to the podium, pushing his hip against the desk, and looking up at the raised pews filled with a mix of nervous, excited, and tired faces.

“Congratulations, you made it into the school. That’s step zero. Coming to class today is step number one. Welcome to Practical Mech Driving. I will be your instructor and facilitator; you can call me Teacher Oliviero. Do you have any questions, so far?”

Teacher Oliviero looked at the younger crowd, one hand stuffed into a back pocket and another resting atop the low table next to the large lecturer’s podium. He smiled at them while maintaining his steely gaze.

“Seeing as you have none – Oh, you, go on.”

Day twisted her body to look at the back row where the professor had pointed at. A taller boy sat back on his seat, leaning back comfortably in his chair. He had a mocking smile, paired with the helmet like neon orange hair, he really really stood out from the crowd. Day hadn’t yet decided if that was such a good thing.

“Teacher,” the boy drawled, still at ease where he sat despite the student sharing the table with him shrinking farther and farther – forehead nearly merging with the tabletop. “Teacher, when do we get to see some actual combat?”

“Itching for combat already?”

“Yeah, I mean, I came to a military university for that, didn’t I?”

Nate didn’t look back. He could guess who – what kind of person was talking. It was just some stupid spoiled kid who didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about. They might have had some mecha driving training, they probably even had a test mecha at home. Talking big about actually seeing some combat like playing a game of cops and robbers.

The professor snorted, hand running through his short salt-pepper hair. “Get out.”

The boy sat up now, his eyes a mix of embarrassment, confusion, and fury.

“Get out of here, boy, and sign-up for the army. Who are we to stop a passionate soldier from fulfilling his dream.”

 As the boy’s face contorted into a grim visage, Day wondered why the boy even spoke up in the first place. Nothing had been said, so nothing should have been asked. Tut. She turned back to look at the professor’s mocking smile, feeling far less lazy than when she’d come in. At least, he seems like fun.

“Oh? It seems like you’re not leaving. Well, let’s get on with the orientation, then. And, soldier-boy, combat doesn’t come until you’re a varsity member, or a second year.”

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