The burned letter caused me a lot of inconvenience. I had to call up a schoolmate who had the same date and venue as me to get the reporting time. That much was fine. No, what was worse was what came after.

Because the guy did not have a car, I had to give him a life in my car.

By the end of the ride, I was one step away from being a murderer. Here’s how :

“This is an unexpected surprise, that I am sitting next to the famous staunch senior Neal! Say, say, don’t you worry senior! I am a pretty good at boxing so if we get deployed together, then I will protect you!”

The chatterbox next to me wouldn’t shut up since the last 20 minutes we spent together driving. I regret ever asking him for the reporting time but his was the only number I had.

“You know my sister really liked that cake shop you recommended to me when I told it to her. She really wants to take your interview for the school magazine. For the food corner of course! This has nothing to do with the academic genius that senior is, of course!”

I wonder if I can ever shut him up. Maybe if I pull out his tongue and shove it up his ass?

Nah, no need to resort to violence just because of an idiot.

“I was really surprised when I discovered that I am going to spend the next few years with senior. I really thought you would be into the engineer or weapons field but here you are with me! Oh boy, my friends are gonna be so jealous when they find out you spoke more than 3 words with me. This is the best thing ever!”

Blah, blah, blah. That’s all I can hear.

“But senior, how do you study? I really want to take out your brain and study it. I mean you took all of the advanced subjects and the Imperial language course and still come out in the top 3 consistently. And all day you can be seen doing different things all over the city! You spend all eating at Freddy’s, tasting various sweets at night market, playing games at carnivals, experimenting in chemistry lab, tinkering with the school equipment, helping out at the library, drinking –“

I have had enough. I swerve the car in the side lane, slam on the breaks and turn to him with a glare practiced over 2 lifetimes.

“Shut Up!”

He shrinks back in the seat and shuts up.

I restart the car. The place is not too far now. Only 5 minutes drive more and this torture will be over. The next 5 minutes were, thankfully, spent in silent bliss.

*****************************************

I look over the bald fishy guy in a military uniform as he examines Chatterbox’s documents. Mine were, unfortunately, burnt in the trash disposal burner. However, the baldy fish assured me that he could look at my deployment details from their database.

“You are at stationed at building 5. Here’s a map. Make your way there.” Baldy tells Chatterbox.

“Do I go with him?” I ask Baldy. Chatterbox turns to look at me with shiny eyes.

Disgusting.

“No Sir. Please wait a bit. They are sending someone to escort you to the right place.” Baldy straightens up and looks at me.

Ah, it’s nice to see someone acting normal and not like a certain chatterbox fangirl-ing boy towards me.

But… isn’t this too polite?

Chatterbox leaves the place reluctantly and keeps giving me glances backwards. I ignore him splendidly, as always.

******************************************************

“You are early. We were expecting you in the afternoon, not early morning.”

A certain blue haired, green colored humanoid jackal greets me at the door.

Fuck this, I meet that Green-y here too! Is this an omen? A sign of my certain, impending doom? Is this fate?!

I shall seal this fate, right here and right now!

I turn around and start walking back towards my car.

No way, no can do. I am leaving this place, consequences be damned!

“If you are worried about your car, then we have had someone already get it to the staff parking. Your car is fine.”

I turned around again and walk back in through the gate.

I have no choice. They have taken my 4-wheel-y as hostage.

“Welcome to the Geneva Base. My name is-“

“Celery. I know.”

Green-y looks at me surprised at my interruption. I stare back at her/him/it.

“Paper-plane guy!” Green-y points at me.

How rude~

“Green-y.” I nod back.

Green-y turns around, tries to run away, trips and falls unconscious.

What just happened?

“What just happened?” Baldy gate-keeper dude asks me. I simply shrug in response.

“What next?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that Sir. These Mortiseptiu Gordo share a hive mind. One of the others will come around and pick this one up. Come on, I will take you to someone else who can escort you in the meanwhile.”

Oh wow, this guy is really super polite to me.

I really like him.

After-all, he’s super dismissive and rude to Green-y.

***************************************************

“Welcome to Geneva Base Sir.”

This time, it’s a dotted raccoon walking on 4 legs and talking in IFL that’s escorting me around the place. He’s super polite too.

In fact, all the people I have seen around are super polite. They bow, smile or nod towards us. Some of them even scamper to get out of Dot-y and my way.

Once or twice can be a coincidence. But all of them? I wonder why~

“This right here is our destination. It’s the Teleporter which gives the Geneva Base its name. After you, Sir.”

“Oh sure.”

The sights at Geneva Base sure are awesome. The people are all too unique and interesting too. I hardly heard anything Dot-y was speaking about.

In a daze, I enter the teleporter. The world around me swirls and a slight feeling of motion sickness rises in me.

Just as quickly, the swirling world stops and my sight is clear. I step off the teleporter just in time as Dot-y follows me through.

“Right this way Sir. Please follow me while taking a look at this list.” Dot-y hands me an interface. I attach it in a blue-tooth like manner at the rim of my right ear. A list is visualized in front of my eyes.

“There were no available vacancies in any of the ships so we decided to let you have a new one. Please select one of them. We can then take you to it start the formalities and transfer procedures.”

So, I have to select a ship to work on? What will I work as? A sweeper boy, the torpedo re-filler or the janitor? Well, at least it’s better than a ground trooper, I guess.

I die when the ship is destroyed and I live if it’s not. All or nothing. Pretty binary.

I start browsing the list. It’s pretty long and should take me a long time to go through properly.

Oh bother. I will just pick one that looks familiar.

The list continues scrolling albeit at a faster pace than before. All I see are the digits and names going down alphabetically when I see a familiar name. I don’t recall when I have heard it or why but since its familiar, it will do.

“This one.” I tell Dot-y.

“Excuse me?” Dot-y stops walking and looks at me.

“I want this one.” I say.

The name, as familiar to me as a whisper on a wind, passes by my lips.

“The Dream Destroyer.”