Episode 2: The New Ace (12p)

Episode recap: Cadets take a flight course from famed instructor D'Argencourt.

Lieutenant Colonel D'Argencourt's course was brutal, that much was expected, but Marinette had no idea how brutal until the grades started to come back. She managed to do alright in the take-home assignments, especially compared to some of her classmates, although she wasn't especially proud of her marks. The in-class exams, however, were another story entirely, and one she didn't want repeated. But try as she might, no matter how hard she studied, she always lost her nerve and devolved into an unconfident mess. She couldn't write and think fast enough to get through the tabs and tabs of questions needed to complete the tests.

It didn't help that Alya was struggling even more than she was, so Marinette had focused their joint study sessions on helping her friend with the concepts that Marinette could at least explain. But it left no real opportunity for her to strengthen her own weaknesses.

It was a cold comfort that everyone seemed to be struggling; everyone except Agreste and Max. But the halfway point was approaching, another point at which anyone who did not meet D'Argencourt's minimum score would be removed from the class. Chloe Bourgeois had not survived the quartermark; the only question was would Marinette and Alya join her in the walk of shame?

Marinette was lucky that part of her grade was earned in the simulator where they had to master different kinds of crafts and different conditions, although she wanted to meet the sadist who decided to make the cadets tow a barge through a destabilized asteroid field if only to yell at them. But even then Marinette didn't get full marks because of Alya. Her bestie was not a pilot, and had no desire to be one. Alya was a mechanical wizard and was on a solid engineering track, but she had stuck with Lieutenant Colonel D'Argencourt because she was learning so much about spacecraft from a different perspective. The knowledge of just what pilots thought they could do to their craft would greatly prepare her to make sure either the ship was ready to do miracles or the pilot was aware of their limitations.

That didn't make Alya a pilot, though. So when their simulator assignments allowed for a pilot and copilot, Marinette carried her bestie and they shared the points equally. It meant that Alya had a passing grade, and so did Marinette, but barely.

.o8o.

One more point not in her favor was Agreste sitting in front of her during lectures. Alya had had loads of experience meeting alien races, so the Noir was not much of a novelty for her. Nino was there only to help Agreste understand was Lieutenant Colonel D'Argencourt was saying, so his attention was immaterial. Marinette lacked Alya's experience and Nino's focus, and it was hurting her.

She couldn't stop her eyes from locking onto him as he shifted in his seat to ask Nino a question. It got worse when the translator shrugged and turned around to ask Alya who sat directly behind him. Usually, Alya would nudge her bestie at that point and repeat the question. Then Agreste would look at her, his green eyes bright and curious, and while she knew the answer, she just couldn't articulate the words. Wasn't that the problem to begin with, Agreste's incomplete vocabulary? What good was it for her to use the same words he didn't understand?

She'd just hand him her tablet of notes, he'd take it and scroll through, nod, write something in his own tablet, then return it to her. During these little exchanges, she noticed a ring on his finger, black like the rest of him except for a single green gem that matched the color of his eyes. It was the only piece of ornamentation she had seen on the Noir and she wondered at its significance. When would she know him well enough to ask about it?

During one of these little games of notes-passing, the colonel had grown tired of watching students ignore him. "Dupain-Cheng," he finally snapped, "are you the instructor for this class or am I?"

Habit got Marinette to her feet though her knees were wobbly. "You are, sir," even her voice sounded a little shaky.

"Then refrain from holding court in the middle of my lecture," he chastised her.

"It was my fault, sir," said Agreste, rising to his feet. "I had a question about what you had said and -"

"If you have questions on the lecture, I recommend you speak to someone who has a better grasp of the material," D'Argencourt told him. "You are welcome to bring your question to me in front of the entire class or you may ask me privately rather than disrupting one of the other cadets who cannot afford the distraction."

Marinette's face was burning with shame from being called out so publicly. The consolation of being embarrassed only in front of the class was completely overcome by the realization that people talk, and rumors of this dressing down would be all over the ship by second shift.

"Now sit down, both of you," snapped the colonel. "You've wasted enough time."

They both muttered a "Yes, sir," and dropped into their seats. He continued the lecture despite his obvious irritation, making Marinette flinch every time he delivered some cutting observation in her general direction. Alya tried to soothe her but there was little her bestie could do under D'Argencourt's watchful eyes without making the situation worse.

When the lecture finally ended, Marinette only wanted to crawl into her bunk and hide until she had flunked out from unexcused absences. Alya quietly tried to lure her to the Cesaire quarters where they could snack on sweets and vent against unfair instructors. Agreste stood up and faced her, his mouth already open to say something, when D'Argencourt called out, "Cesaire, Dupain-Cheng, come with me to my office. Now."

There was no opportunity for anything else. It wouldn't matter if Colonel Damocles had personally ordered them to report to the bridge after class to receive commendations, or if the ship had been critically damaged and everyone needed to report to evacuation pods immediately. D'Argencourt wanted them in his office, and refusal wasn't an option. The two women fell in line behind the colonel while the Noir stood rooted to the spot with his mouth hanging open.

The distance to the colonel's office seemed inordinately long, but that was only because Marinette's mind was flying through scenario after nightmare scenario of why Alya and she were being called there. D'Argencourt offered no chitchat during the walk and the cadets couldn't think of anything to say either. He was silent as he unlocked his door and ushered them inside, silent as he unlocked his tablet and pulled some charts to the screen.

"I have noticed an interesting pattern in your scores for the flight simulator, cadets," he said at last, gesturing to the table on display. "In the single-pilot simulations, Dupain-Cheng scores the highest marks in the entire class while Cesaire is uniformly abysmal. In fact, the only time you didn't fail spectacularly was during the simulated engine failure; in that lesson, you were the only pilot who managed to bring your flyer back to the ship. Yet in the pilot-copilot simulations, you two are both equally mediocre. Would you care to explain yourselves?"

They blinked at him, then each other. How would they explain this?

"I'm not a pilot," Alya blurted out. "I can't fly, not well. I'm an engineer, a mechanic. I figure this class will help me be better at that by teaching me how the rocket jockeys approach my ships, all the stupid things they're going to try to do out there. And I'm learning a lot, sir! And the only way I can continue learning is to stay in your class. So Dupain-Cheng has been helping me out. We didn't think it was cheating."

"Do you have any idea how many cadets apply for my class and are turned away?" D'Argencourt asked, narrowing his eyes. "How many potential pilots won't be trained by me because people like you and Bourgeois take their spot? How do you justify to them the opportunity you have stolen?"

"Being in this class is making me a better mechanic," Alya shot back. "Which means more flyers can get back out there faster, with better functionality and fewer mishaps. What good is training an ace when they can't trust their flyer to maneuver in a dogfight or even make it back to the ship on a normal training run?"

"And what about you, Dupain-Cheng?" he asked, swinging his glare to the other cadet. "Cesaire freely admits she doesn't belong in my class. Are you too not meant to be a pilot?"

"I, I, I want to be a pilot, sir," she stammered out.

"Based on your solo performance in the simulator, I'm inclined to agree with you," he admitted grudgingly. "But your written exams are pathetic. Explain yourself."

"I, I, I get nervous," she stuttered. "T-test anxiety. I know the answers, b-b-but I don't know how I know. And when I try to figure it out, it takes too long and I run out of time."

"How can you perform so well under pressure in the simulator yet you fall apart with a written exam?" he asked, and Marinette could not answer him.

D'Argencourt stared at them both with merciless, measuring eyes until they wanted to fidget, but they dared not to move. "Cadet Cesaire," he announced at last, "you may continue to audit my class and use the flight simulator, but I will no longer waste my time grading your work. Cadet Dupain-Cheng, you may continue to be in my class but only if you receive a tutor. I'm sure Captain Kim or Kubdel has someone on their squad who deserves the punishment of tutoring someone like you."

Based on how Marinette's stomach was flipping around inside her, it felt for a moment like the artificial gravity had been turned off. Alya was thrown out of the class, and Marinette… She didn't know if she was being punished or rewarded. Probably it was a little of both. She looked at her bestie, guilt pouring off of her. If Marinette hadn't encouraged Alya to take the course under D'Argencourt, then they wouldn't be in this mess. It was all Marinette's fault.

Alya gave her a comforting smile that seemed to say this was not so bad. Marinette desperately needed to hear the words spoken by her bestie to convince herself that she was not merely imagining it.

"Cesaire, you are dismissed," D'Argencourt broke in. "Dupain-Cheng, come with me. We need to assign you a tutor immediately if you are to have any hope of proving yourself worthy of this favor."

Alya gave a crisp salute and left. D'Argencourt and Marinette soon followed her. After the first intersection, their paths diverged, Alya continued toward the family quarters while the commander led Marinette to the hangars.

He brought her to a cramped and cluttered office which a young man immediately began to organize when D'Argencourt crossed the threshold.

"Captain, this is Cadet Dupain-Cheng," the commander said without preamble. "Her simulator scores are good but her exam grades are pathetic. I want you to find her a tutor so she can pass my class."

Captain Kim sized her up. He rubbed his chin in thought before he got a wicked glint in his eyes. "I have just the man. He'll be back on shift tomorrow."

"Then Dupain-Cheng will report here directly after class." The two men having settled her fate to their satisfaction, they parted ways. Marinette was dismissed and walked to her family's quarters. She sent an apologetic message to Alya who replied with a too-brief, "No worries. See you tomorrow." Marinette wished that she could spend time with Alya to make sure her bestie bore no ill will for what had happened, but perhaps it was best to give Alya some time to grow resigned to D'Argencourt's decision. And Marinette had work to do for class; Alya might not be interested in churning through some problems, but Marinette couldn't afford to slack now.

It would probably be a few hours until her parents returned from their shift and various errands. It should give her time to make a dent in the list of calculations she had to solve. But as she approached the entrance to her quarters, her feet slowed. Sitting in front of the door was Agreste, and he had obviously been waiting for her.

"Dupain-Cheng!" he called out in relief, climbing to his feet.

"Agreste? How do you know where I live?" she said, then wanted to smack herself. She couldn't remember many coherent statements she had made to him, much less giving out the deck and cabin assigned to her family. But she likewise couldn't remember making such an unwelcoming comment.

"Lahiffe told me. He's with Cesaire right now, apologizing for his role in getting her in trouble. I had to come to apologize for getting you in trouble today." She might berate herself for seeming unfriendly but he was too absorbed in his own guilt to notice. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call the colonel's attention to you. I didn't realize -" It really looked like he intended to apologize for every detail.

"Agreste, don't worry about me," she stopped him. "Besides, Alya got it worse."

He tilted his head to the side in confusion. She sighed and explained that Alya had been cut from the class. He nodded at hearing this. "Yes, she told us," he admitted, "but she did not act unhappy with herself."

Marinette was surprised and relieved to hear that. She had expected her bestie to be as crushed as Marinette would be with that fate. "Yeah? Well, D'Argencourt is assigning me a tutor, so I guess it works out for both of us."

"A tutor?" he repeated. "That's great news. Honestly, I'm surprised that you need one. Your notes are always so clear when I read them."

"It's a lot easier to copy down in class with no pressure than it is to write out on an exam under a time crunch," she said rolling her eyes at her own foolishness. "Besides, you tend only to need notes on the stuff I understand."

"I'm glad you're getting a tutor, but if you needed help, you know you could have asked me for it sooner," he offered tentatively.

She blinked, not sure what to say. It was unexpected that the alien, who was still struggling with the language, would offer to divert his precious time and energy to someone else.

"You don't need to do that," she told him.

"You cannot know what was needed until it is too late, so be helpful always and do not lose yourself to dark thoughts," he answered, sounding like a proverb.

"That sounds like good advice," Marinette smiled. He was trying to be friendly, the least she could do was return the favor. They sat near each other in class and - if she passed - would be assigned to squads at the same time, possibly to the same squad. She ought to outgrow whatever awkwardness she felt around Agreste and be friends with him. "Have… Have you started on today's assignment? I won't meet my tutor until tomorrow, so if you wanted to stay and work, you… you could."

Seeing his expression brighten, she felt stupid for not asking him before.

.o8o.

The next day Capt. "Mad Dog" Kim greeted Marinette with a wicked grin, like he had something painful waiting for her. He called for someone named "Stone Heart" who looked every bit of a golem when his large form blocked the doorway to Kim's office. Marinette unconsciously cowered which elicited a snort of amusement from the lieutenant.

"Cadet Dupain-Cheng, this is Stone Heart, your new babysitter," Kim said. "Stoney, you're responsible for making sure this newbie doesn't fail D'Argencourt's class." Having performed the necessary introductions, Kim now hustled the two from his office, trusting them to find a way to succeed or fail on their own.

Marinette was initially intimidated by her new tutor but she quickly learned that Stone Heart was named ironically and Ivan - his real name - was a nurturing softy. Between tutoring sessions with him thrice weekly, and doing homework with Agreste, her grades rapidly improved.

She felt bad about not spending as much time with Alya, who had seriously cut back on studying now that she wasn't being graded, but her bestie was spending time with other new friends like Nino Lahiffe, and Alya always made time to join Marinette in the simulator.

The time she spent with Agreste was eye-opening. She tried not to deluge him with questions about what it was like being an alien, to focus instead on the coursework at hand, but her curiosity was slowly being satisfied. She learned that the other three Noir on the Françoise Dupont besides himself and Elathan were named Gore and Plagg; that Noir had only one public name. That Noir genealogical records were very rare; the Akuma had destroyed much of it during their original offensive, and what little that remained was erased to protect the families of Noir freedom fighters from being punished or executed in retaliation.

The saddest story of all, though, had to be that of Agreste's ring. It was a memento of his mother, who had been killed by the Akuma. Many Noir wore such a ring, with a jewel for each person close to them who had died at the hands of the Akuma. Gore, he told her, had five stones in his ring.

But not every fact was built on sadness and loss. Noir ears twitched, for instance, when they laughed, and they had a strong partiality for anything made with lots of butter. She also found out that Agreste tended to hum when he was concentrating. It was annoying at first but became less so when Nino told her to think of the noise as a purr.

Ivan taught her a great deal about being on the gold flight squad in between her lessons. It sounded like a lot of tedium interspersed with brief moments of heart-pounding thrills which in no way discouraged her interest.

Ivan observed her a few times in the simulator, mostly to see how well she could put her lessons to use. This in turn caught the attention of "Queen Bee" Kubdel, the leader of the red squad who sent her second-in-command, Barbot "The Hornet", to take her measure.

Kubdel felt certain that D'Argencourt recognized enough potential in Marinette to be worth the effort of nurturing it. Mad Dog and the gold squad might have an inside track on recruiting the cadet, but Queen Bee was not above stealing her for the red squad if Marinette proved worthy of it.

Hornet could often be found buzzing around the simulator during Marinette's trials. He easily struck up conversations with Marinette and Alya, offering to review the recording of their performance to give them pointers for the next time. He was friendly with Alya but he was flirty with Marinette. The young woman, however, didn't recognize his interest no matter how much her bestie would tease her about it.

"You're imagining things, Alya," she once said. "Hornet, Stone Heart… they're just curious to see if I'm good enough to join their squads."

Alya only shook her head at her friend's blindness. If Alya was right, Hornet Barbot was not the type to let Marinette wander in ignorance for long. She decided to help accelerate matters by skipping one or two sessions in the simulator, giving Hornet unrivaled access to her bestie.

Whether he realized Alya was lending a hand or not, he took advantage of the opportunity.

"You are too good of a pilot to waste on the gold squad," Hornet observed after critiquing her flight. "If you end up under Mad Dog, it'll be a tragedy."

Marinette laughed at that. The flyers were an overconfident, trash-talking group. "Don't say that. I want to be a pilot. For all his bluster, Capt. Kim is a good guy."

Hornet rolled his eyes. "He's mediocre at best, and he attracts mediocre talent," said Hornet. "How would you feel about joining the red squad? Queen Bee has asked me to check you out."

"The red squad?" Marinette repeated. She honestly didn't know which squad was best. Both had good pilots and strong leaders. But it was nice to feel wanted.

"I talk with the Queen every day. I can talk to her about you, tell her about how well you handle yourself in the simulator, how you keep your head, all good things," he dangled the offer on front of her, "if you want."

She giggled and tried to find a way to bring this conversation to a less awkward equilibrium. Stone Heart has impeccable timing, appearing out of nowhere and announcing he was ready for Marinette's lesson. She shyly bid good day to Hornet, leaving without giving him an answer.

The pilot was too confident to be hurt. The suspense of waiting for her reply had no sting. After all, the question was not iwhether/i she would accept but iwhen/i.

.o8o.

The final exam was not a written test but a trip through the simulator. It had something of a festive atmosphere with students and pilots and friends gathered in the hangar to watch the surviving cadets climb into the box. Their escapades were broadcast on screens for the observers to see. Each session lasted about 30 minutes, and each was slightly different so that there was no intrinsic advantage to going last. In fact, students were grouped so that those with the lowest grades went first and the scenarios tended to get more difficult as the hours past.

Marinette, Max Kant, and Agreste were the last remaining cadets. D'Argencourt insisted that the three draw lots to determine their order. Max went first.

Twenty minutes into his simulation, after following the instructions to perform various turns and evasive maneuvers, an Akuma flyer came out of nowhere to strafe his wing. A collective gasp came from the spectators; this was the first sign of intentional hostility they had seen during the exams. Kant was rattled but shook it off. He returned fire, made a hit which was loudly cheered by the gathered crowd, and then his sensors detected more and larger ships headed his way. He used his remaining three minutes to flee to safety.

When Max Kant walked out of the hatchway, he was greeted with cheers and applause. He blinked almost owlishly at the attention before smiling brightly and raising his fist in victory. The crowd cheered even louder.

Agreste was next. His simulation started him in orbit above a ringed planet. He skillfully obeyed instructions to weave through the debris that composed the rings. The rings were mostly composed of a fine dusty powder but occasionally objects larger than Agreste's flyer whirled by for added difficulty. Again at the 20 minute mark an Akuma flyer attacked, chasing the Noir through the debris in a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Finally, Agreste turned the tables on his pursuer, landing a direct hit to the engines that left the foe unable to steer. The ship crashed into a space boulder. Before the explosion could blank the displays, the simulation ended.

Just as with Max, Agreste was greeted with applause. He scanned the crowd, searching for someone. Marinette felt his green eyes alight on her briefly before moving on, eventually settling on a Noir - Gore, she thought - who gave an approving nod. Agreste's demeanor changed from tense to giddy. He made a few victory yells which were echoed by his classmates.

Then it was her turn.

Marinette had watched her peers with pride and a little envy at their performance. Max and Agreste were good pilots. Marinette was too; she had to be good to make it into the top three. But she wasn't feeling good or confident now. She was nervous, and her stomach and bladder were vying for the award "Most Difficult Organ." And she was last. That probably meant a more difficult run, didn't it? But what could be worse than 10 minutes of being chased by an Akuma?

Alya squeezed her hand and whispered, "You got this."

Marinette nodded convincingly and took her seat in the simulator cockpit.

The cockpit was configured to be a fast, single-seated flyer like Hornet and Stone Heart flew. She strapped the oxygen mask to her face, plugged the communication line into her helmet, and signaled she was ready to begin.

D'Argencourt disembodied voice calmly told her to prepare a truncated launch sequence. It wasn't typically recommended to cut corners, but sometimes there was greater safety in speed. Marinette breezed through the checks then sent her flyer hurtling out of the imaginary carrier.

She found herself in the middle of a firefight. Nimble Akuma craft were swarming the ship, demolishing its defenses piecemeal. Other Earth craft were split between protecting the vulnerable engines and trying to chase off the attackers.

"What do I do?" Marinette cried into the comm link. She saw a number of opportunities to join the fight, but she ought to know her mission.

A sharp crackle and a hiss was all that answered her. In this teeming, violent multitude, she was alone.

An Akuma nearly crashed into her, shaking her out of her stupor. She grabbed the stick and took off.

With no auditory communication, she needed to rely on what she could see through the visor. She took a quick tour of the carrier, exchanging fire with the enemy as she passed them, trying to get a feel for where she could make the most difference.

She soon spotted a squad of six Akuma flyers that were harassing an Earthling squad with deadly efficiency. In a blink she made them her mission. Her gun was already hot so it was only a matter of locking onto a slippery target. She fired three times in rapid succession. The first shot went wide, lost to the infinite vacuum of space; the second struck her target on the wing, a relatively harmless shot; the third was a direct hit and she had the satisfaction of watching the small alien craft explode.

She was able to fire off a few more rounds - none fatal but combined they were debilitating enough to remove another flyer from the equation - before the rest of the Akuma squad had put her in their sights. She flew off, clinging to the nap of the carrier, weaving and twirling to keep them from locking on her, trying to figure out how she was going to turn the tables again.

She saw a chance and looped around the nose of the ship. For a brief stretch, she crossed paths with her pursuers. Her trigger finger was ready and she opened fire. The first shot was a solid hit and she watched the Akuma spin out of control, knocking into one of its squad mates and sending the second flyer on a collision course with the unyielding carrier.

Marinette would have loved to revel in her luck, but the two remaining Akuma were back on her tail and she needed to be focused on the task of not dying. She raced across the bottom of the carrier, weaving an erratic pattern but traveling generally from bow to stern. She didn't want to distract her enemies with the carrier's engines but she hoped to shake them in the melee of other dog fights. They should be reluctant to fire at her if a missed shot might strike one of their own.

With a quick burst of acceleration she blew through a crowd of flyers. The two Akuma followed her; one got its wing clipped in the crossfire, sending it spiralling off course. Only one remained but he was hot on her tail.

Before she could wonder how she was going to shake him, a warning noise began to go off. She raked her eyes over the instrument panel, searching for a flashing light synchronized with the shrill beep. Had she been hit?

Before she could identify the problem, the visor went black and the joystick which had previously been so responsive became locked in a resting position.

D'Argencourt's cool voice sounded in her ears. "Your time is up, Cadet Dupain-Cheng. Please exit the simulator."

Marinette blinked in surprise. The adrenalin racing through her veins had forgotten that this was fake. With shaking hands, she unhooked the oxygen mask and unbuckled the strap of her helmet. Removing the helmet and setting it aside, she took a moment to press the heels of her hands against her eyelids and just breathe. Having centered herself, she finally unfastened the safety restraints and moved to the hatch.

The sound was deafening when she broke the seal. Everyone was cheering for her. For her! Alya was jumping and whistling. Max and Agreste were clapping. Pilots already assigned to squads were suitably impressed. Mad Dog and Stone Heart were shouting for joy.

And then Hornet approached her. "That's my new ace!" he shouted, grabbing her hand and raising it in triumph.

Marinette's body was humming with excitement. She let out a small whoop and a grin split her face.

Hornet dropped her hand to wrap his arm around her waist. With his other hand he cupped her cheek and pulled her into a fierce kiss in front of everybody.

They just cheered harder.