Marilin’s dorm room was comfortable, even for Inner-Shiinevarean standards. She had earned it, much to her own credit, from being one of the best students of the Academy- at such an early age, she had already become qualified to pilot a Spirit Strider, but it would be another three years before she could ever enter a cockpit. She had attributed her successes to her own talent, always believing that she deserved to seek a higher calling than simply living a mediocre life and dying without achieving anything of value. While not to the point of self-deprecating, she acknowledged that she was, at least a little, vain.

Flicking aside several layers of bedsheets, Mariliin’s hand grasped her PAD, shaking it slowly as her other hand reached up to quell a migraine that had struck her after her alarm screeched her into consciousness. Her head ached as she stumbled onto the floor- littered with a wide variety of objects- and tried to remember what seemed like a blank spot in her often terrible memory.

Roughly folding her numerous blankets together, it suddenly hit her.

Marilin remembered the first time she had been shot very, very well. A single pistol round had snared her just below the shoulder blade before going right through- simple details that mattered naught after it had happened. What Marilin remembered clearest was the feeling- no pain, just a shock that coursed throughout her body, mind clearing and going blank, and body freezing before she fell to the ground. It was only a few minutes later that she finally felt the agonizing pain that came from having a bloody hole in her left shoulder.

What she felt now was very similar- a shock that coursed through her body, paralyzing her in place as a few scarce rays of sunlight streamed through her window and her mind played back what had happened last afternoon. That was right. Was it? Yes. Yes…

There was a shooting at the protest yesterday, there was a- no- two Spirit Striders on the street. One was in front of her in the alleyway, the other in front of the protestors. She scrambled to open her PAD as she tried to remember the pilot’s name, suddenly feeling out of breath. Alex? Allen? Alwin?

“Marilin? I didn’t expect you to call back so soon. How are you feeling?” Marilin could see Alec gulp before speaking on the glass, which confirmed everything she had feared. “Do you remember yesterday?”

One word was all that could escape her trembling lips. “Yes.”

Alec’s reply came in choked, much unlike his cheerful voice from last night. “The shooting? You remember?” Alec didn’t wait for a response before continuing. “Look. Both of us couldn’t have done anything to stop what happened. In due time both our supervisors will brief us on a situation going forward. It’s not going to be a pretty one-”

“I know. You don’t have to tell me.”

“-But this one isn’t going to be an easy one for the government to get out of, for sure. Look, I know you aren’t stupid. You wouldn’t be educated to the point of being what I think is qualified while in your third year otherwise. I’ll spare you the details- I’m most likely going to be relocated. You…I don’t know. They need to bolster the military, see?” Alec yelled something at someone behind him, before turning to face Marilin again. “We’re in this together. If you need my help on anything, you have my tag. Ring my PAD.”

“I only met you yesterday.” said Marilin, flinching as a clash sounded from Alec’s side of the call. “I don’t-”

“Look, I have to go. It might seem strange, but we’re both pilots. In the future, anyhow. We look out for each other, no? Best of luck on your studies! Ok, see you soon!” Bewildered, Marilin had not even time to blink before Alec hung up.

Funny guy.

---

With books strewn on the ground, screens still on to the page they were left on, clothes and other odd bits scattered as if there was absence of a wardrobe and medication in numerous forms haphazardly strewn throughout every available space, Marilin’s room was extremely unbefitting of a so acclaimed ‘top student’. Not that anyone looked, anyway. While not on bad terms with any students- something that Marilin measured carefully in her interactions- she had never felt the need of going any further than being a temporary nice friend, especially when considering the brutally competitive scene of the Academy’s education. In the military, a Spirit Strider pilot was an incredibly desired job, being so that even the qualification, attainable by only a few, was of incredible value. Ever since childhood, Marilin had never thought of doing anything else. Being her only option, with contact with her family now a distant memory, she felt no need to focus on anything else. With only three years into her education, she had already received her qualification- something that had only been achieved by three people previously in the history of the academy.

Marilin was a little bit of a celebrity, and she knew it.

Shivering, both from the lingering cold and the memory of the events of yesterday, she threw her blankets onto her bed, resolving that she would deal with them in due time. She reminded herself to clean her room, before backtracking on the thought that it would be worthless, considering how fast it would turn back into looking like a warzone. Donning the Academy blazer, she stepped out, expecting and receiving the sharp flick of the morning Shiinevarean cold. Staring at the same trees, same grass and same gates, Marilin headed to the mess, as she had done for the past three years.

---

A short chime sounded in her pocket, just like everyday. Her schedule would be uploaded to her, outlining who she would report to and what class she would be attending. For the past two years, Marilin only had one supervisor, whom she only knew, and addressed, as ‘Sir’. A strict, married man who was considered by most to be the nicest and most caring on the Academy grounds, he was someone that Marilin felt lucky to be reporting to. In comparison to her previous string of supervisors, who were either callous or uncaring, she believed that she quite liked Sir.

It came to a surprise to her when the automated message sent to her for the morning was not automated at all- it was a direct instruction, written in person, from Sir to meet him at his office after breakfast.

Most mornings, Marilin would meet Sir in the lecture hall with a group of other students before heading to their classes for the day. Visits to his office were uncommon, and reserved for personal messages from family or other matters that had to be discussed in private. The first time, wracked with concern, Sir had gravely informed her that her sister- Laura- had died of pneumonia, something that shocked her, as she believed that her true family did not know of her presence at the Academy. She would be lying if the death of her sister truly saddened her. The last time Marilin had ever visited his office was for the announcement of her qualification, which was kept secret until the Academy’s next small assembly. Most of her previous visits were positive experiences, but this coincidentally timed message, and the fact that it was, uncannily, seemingly word for word what Alec had described would happen, brought her mind to a calamitous state.

The Academy’s halls were made from polished marble- a building material that Marilin had once read to be something only afforded by the most exquisite buildings. Now, even in Inner- Shiinevaar, necessities like food and water, taken for granted by many, were given top priority over anything else. Marilin thought it interesting that many materials considered to have incredible value in the past- gemstones, old paper books, even the stones that the very Academy had been made of- were now a fraction of their past cost.

It was one of Marilin’s odd and self-proclaimed abilities to lose her mind to random thoughts, even in the most tumultuous situation. Even with the red memories of yesterday washing over her head like the typhoons which blasted the poor wretches that lived on the coastal settlements, she could find room to contemplate and inquire about the most trivial and useless of things. Marilin wasn’t sure, in the heat of the moment, if this was a good thing, considering the enormous weight of the events of the previous day.

The Academy, often housing only around two hundred select students, was abuzz with conversation, differing from the usual serenity that graced the halls. It took only a few seconds of focus for Marilin to determine the rather predictable source of the conversation.

“Poor sods, for sure. A forty millimeter, bursting through the crowd? That’s some nasty stuff, if you ask me.”

“A friend of mine said it only lasted seconds. They wouldn’t have felt a thing.” A sigh, which Marilin was almost sure was the exhalation of a cigarette. “Better than the life they’re living-”

A laugh. “Were living, you mean.” Another quiet chuckle could be heard from Marilin’s position on the corner of the hallway.

“Death is probably better for those squatters. Have you read up on the conditions of their life that the charities publish in their articles every month? Sweet mother. I’d rather die.”

Marilin crept up to the corner so she could have a better listen of the conversation between the two people, who she now determined were students, probably fifth year. Stealing a glance, she saw two boys leaning on the door to one of the dorms, with what seemed like his friend now walking towards him and nudging him on the shoulder.

“Hey man, about those protestors...you think what they’re saying is right?” whispered the second boy, making a poor attempt at hushing his voice.

“Those pea brains? Come on.” The first boy laughed, covering his mouth. “You really think the government can just, ‘conceal’, the discovery of a habitable planet for years? Not even to mention that the protestors are saying that all the rich blokes have already made preparations to move on some giant flying saucer in the middle of Russia?”

“Oh, they’d have a damn hard time hiding some magic craft the size of that, for sure. My dad works at the mining facility on Mars. The ships we have now, travelling to the edge of the Andromeda? Not happening.” He took a puff of his cigarette, looking out to his room. “When you think about it, those damn protestors, calling out the govs because some ‘inside guy’ gave a backdrop that sounds like the plot of a lame action movie? Those sods deserved to be shot.”

The first boy slapped the second on the back in agreement, concealing a chuckle as he leaned over. “What do you have first?”

“English with Heackle. No damn point if I can speak it. I’m here to learn how to shoot up the baddies, not how I can speak to better my chances of winning a bar fight.”

Marilin retreated the other way amid the laughs that echoed down the hallway as she tried to look as composed as possible, making her way to the office.

---

“I’m sure you know that you are one of the, and in my opinion, the best student in the Academy at present.” Sir always spoke with a voice that seemed to slice the very air itself, yet could never put someone out of ease.

“Yes, sir.”

“I trust you have heard of the riot in the plaza that occurred yesterday?”

Riot. Marilin played with that word for a while.

“Yes, sir.”

“The populace is in an uproar. What was a riot is now to the brink of a rebellion. Yesterday, a large band of these new ‘rebels’ attempted to overcome the defenses of an armoury on the west side of the city. Their mission was fortunately a failure, but the event has not fallen past the eyes of the government.

“The rebels have used the events of the previous day as leverage to resume operations and disrupt the order of the city. As every hour passes, more and more people join them- more, and more people that we may have to one day fight.”

Sir sighed, as if the following words would sadden him.

“Shiinevaar has seventeen active Spirit Strider units on duty- we have most deployed overseas in currently undergoing combat in Australia. We have three units defending vital infrastructure in Shiinevaar like our canola fields and refineries. I trust you know how many units we have deployed in the city.”

“Two.” Marilin didn’t hesitate for a second.

“Only two.” Sir cracked his knuckles on the wooden table. “Only two. For the peacekeeping of one of Earth’s largest cities on the brink of rebellion.”

“That doesn’t seem very sound, sir.”

Sir got up suddenly, pushing out his chair and taking a frustrated deep breath. “You’re damn right that it’s not sound. The Spirit Striders only exist in the Inner, patrolling so rarely that we have them on autopilot for half the time! How about the Outer districts? This little ‘rebellion for the people’ could be under our noses, or far, far away, and we’d never know it!

“It is regrettable, yes, it is. But every hour we lose is more people converted to a foolish cause that will drive Shiinevaar into ruin. More people that we will have to fight. More people that will have to die. Are we on the same page?”

Marilin nodded furiously. This sort of fervour was not something she had seen before in someone who was usually so calm and composed.

“The government has reached the same conclusion. The garrison we have in the City is insufficient to quell anything above a small-scale uprising. The two Spirit Striders we have are Sancrete-class; they’re old, already long retired from frontline service. Almost all of our Bucharests are out in Australia, fighting the ongoing war.” explained Sir, now pacing around the room. “Spirit Striders aren’t like tanks. We can’t just throw them around, no nation could afford to. However, the government has placed the quelling of this rebellion at the top of their priority list. They understand as well as I do the potential of danger that could arise from such a situation.”

“I understand, Sir. Can I be of any assistance in this situation?”

“I am getting to that in a second. A Bucharest-class Spirit Strider, the SMIF Argus, will be returning from frontline duty in Australia to join the Shiinevaarean garrison as fast as time allows. The two Sancretes in the city- S3 and S7- will be manned by a pilot full-time, with patrols increased until this situation is resolved. Are you following?”

“Yes, sir. Precautions must be taken for even the smallest of situations.”

Sir nodded in rapid agreement. “I’m sure that you’ve heard the rumours floating around. I know that you’re not much of a talker, but even you must have heard of the experiment we are building, right in the Academy.”

Marilin indeed, had. The rumours had predated even her time at the Academy- some kind of new miracle combat device for a Spirit Strider. Some people had claimed it was a kit that could allow a Spirit Strider to maneuver in space, all the way to a nuclear weapon specially designed for Spirit Strider operation. The ideas were extravagant and far-fetched, and Marilin had dismissed them, considering that they had persisted for years, even before she had arrived at the Academy. Having this told to her felt surreal to her- almost like, she thought, an angel came up to her and told her that they could provide enough food for everyone on the planet.

“Yes, Sir. I have indeed heard of the rumours.”

“Then what I want to make is a request for you,” Sir paused, and Marilin stared, incredulous. “You may accept or deny- this is a choice that I cannot make for you. You are the first person to be asked from my assessment of your personal abilities. I am, however, quite confident in what will be your answer.”

Marilin nodded. She felt that if she opened her mouth, it would never close.

“At ease, soldier.” Sir took two strides forward and patted her on the shoulder. “Tomorrow, I may be addressing you as ‘pilot’.”