Vytal, Alfred Wilson Planetary Headquarters
November 17th, 0901 Local Time, 2552
If there was one skill where Ilia required no instruction whatsoever, it was infiltration. Whether it be spying or sabotage, it was something that relentless experience had left her an expert at. As such, when her team had been searching for a volunteer to sneak behind enemy lines and seize the enemy flag, she'd been the first to volunteer.
She was far from alone, however. There were 399 other Cadets on her team, a few of which even had active Auras. They all had their own missions to attend to, be it defending the flag, eliminating the enemy, or even making their own attempts to capture the opponents' flag. Sadly, none of them had the experience or talent for stealth that Ilia did, and so they would be taking a more direct route towards the enemy base, hopefully providing her with a useful distraction in the process.
The area of woodland that had been allocated for the training exercise was absolutely massive, a far cry from the smaller-scale, team-based exercises that she had been used to running with the White Fang. The terrain was rough, the trees were dense, and the weather was absolutely terrible; which at this point Ilia had come to expect. Unlike the steady dropping of rain that the last few days had brought, today there was a full-force thunderstorm. The ground had been muddy and soaked, now it was downright marshlike. Altogether, it was horrible weather for a firefight, but the heavy rain and howling winds would make it significantly easier for her to sneak around.
The exercise began surprisingly quietly, with neither team willing to make the first move. Then, as if on command, all hell seemed to break loose as gunfire could be heard throughout the whole forest. Ilia only caught a few glimpses of muzzle flashes and flying tracers as she did her best to stay away from the fighting. As the cacophony sounded out around her, she sneakily made her way towards her objective, the enemy base.
The dense woodland proved to be a blessing, as the large trees and their thick branches offered an extra layer of cover to her natural camouflage as she worked her way through the canopies. She knew from experience that most guards tended to forget that an enemy could come from above just as easily as they could come from the sides, and so she did her best to stay as high above the ground as she could.
As she was moving, she heard a faint sound amongst the rain, and immediately froze in place. Somewhere below her, somebody was speaking. Despite not being able to see the speaker through the trees and leaves, Ilia listened in, hoping that they might reveal something important.
"-This is a terrible idea." One of the voices said. "They have to have guards on their flanks, we're going to get cut down!"
"Quiet! Our team's counting on us. Guards or not, we're getting that damn flag, and we are not getting kicked out!" Another voice replied. "Now quit bitching and come on!"
At last, Ilia caught a glimpse of the speakers. Six Cadets, all of whom were wearing red armbands, signifying them as being enemies. They were heading the opposite way that she was, which matched up with the plan that Ilia overheard.
Slowly, Ilia reached down to her belt and grabbed the hilt of Lightning Lash, more thankful than ever that she'd been allowed to use the weapon for the exercise. While she was trying to avoid being spotted, she couldn't sit idly by and allow her teammates to be caught off guard by a flanking attack. Before she leapt down to engage them, however, another idea came to mind.
Lightning Lash was not her only weapon, in addition, she'd been issued with one of the largest handguns that she'd ever seen, the M6D. It was cumbersome and perhaps a bit too heavy, but Ilia had already learned to love its power and controllability.
Let's see if all of that time at the range paid off… Ilia thought. Guns had never been her true forte, but if she could knock out a few of the enemy Cadets before she got caught in a melee, the fight would be a lot easier.
Taking care not to target the enemy's head, as that could apparently result in serious injury even with the training rounds they were using, Ilia took aim with the pistol's SmartLink scope at the rearmost target and fired off a pair of shots. Instantly, their torso was coated in a viscous pink substance, and they fell to the ground in a paralyzed heap.
Their comrades reacted with brief panic at the unexpected gunfire, but not one of them looked up, and so Ilia had time to target a second Cadet, putting them down in much the same way she had the first. Then a third, and a fourth, before the last two finally figured out that she was directly above them.
Even as they raised their rifles to fire back, Ilia fell from above and drew Lightning Lash, delivering a devastating slash across the chest of the fifth recruit that sent painful voltage throughout their whole body, leaving them momentarily paralyzed. The sixth Cadet opened fire, and Ilia flinched as the staggeringly painful paint rounds impacted off of her Aura. So great was the pain that Ilia found it impossible to move her right arm, and so she used her left to reach down into her holster, draw her pistol, and put the last Cadet down with a rapid series of shots.
Ilia took a deep breath and surveyed the carnage, all six Cadets were down, and were stuck in positions where they would be safe until the Instructors came along to hose them down. A few of them let out groans of pain as she passed by, but she ignored them as she reloaded her handgun and shook some sense back into her arm, before carrying on the direction she was going.
Somebody will have heard those shots, I'll need to be extra careful from here on out. Ilia thought as she took to the trees once more, intent on finishing her mission.
UNSC Dominion, Brig
November 17th, 0945 Local Time, 2552
Before Set had been captured by the UNSC, he had never had any problems focusing. Be it on or off the battlefield, achieving a sharp state of mind had been all but second nature to him. His new summoning powers, however, demanded more pure concentration than he was used to having, and the consequences were potentially dangerous. He had already summoned things that he hadn't meant to, which gave him reason to worry about what else he had the potential to accidentally conjure.
Today, he was testing a different element of his power, consistency. Instead of summoning something new, he would be summoning his weapon repeatedly, with the intent of finding out if there was a limit to how often he could use his powers, and unfortunately, there was.
He let out a low, raspy breath as a small Slipspace portal opened beside him, out of which fell the weapon that he had previously summoned. The Huragok had called it a Z-104 Adaptive Weapon Template, but Set knew a Sword of the Gods when he saw one. The fact that Curie allowed him to even hold it was a sign of the trust she had begun to place him in, which he greatly appreciated.
"One minute, seventeen seconds." Curie noted. She and Funk were both present beside him, keeping track of the results of Set's practice. "That is double the time spent on your last attempt, are you feeling well?"
Set opened his mouth to answer, only to find himself unsurprisingly short of breath. "...I feel as though I have been marching for days."
To his surprise, Funk readily provided an answer to what was happening. "My data suggests that it is normal for the body to be drained of energy as you requisition supplies from storage, with repeated requests amplifying the exhaustion effect."
Set growled in annoyance. "And you're only telling me this now?"
"I assumed that you were informed." Funk stated.
"You assumed wrong!" Set barked, before taking a seat as exhaustion took hold once more. "Gods above, I feel sick…"
Curie's forehead folded upon itself and her eyebrows parted, an expression that Set had learned was used by Humans to show concern. "Then perhaps it is best that we stop for today. We have certainly made progress-"
"One more test." Set protested. "Give me just a moment to rest, and then I will be ready."
Curie scowled at his words. "You sound just like Ben! That kind of recklessness is only going to get you hurt."
"The De-" Set paused, such a title didn't feel appropriate any longer. "The Spartan is simply maintaining his honor, there is no shame in persistence."
"That does not give you reason to hurt yourself." Curie argued. "If you injure yourself trying to summon something that is too much effort for you, then you certainly would not be making yourself useful, now would you?"
Set couldn't help but grin at how much conviction Curie spoke with. Despite standing so much shorter than him and undoubtedly being considerably weaker, she still spoke as though she were a storied warrior more than capable of besting him in a battle. While that would normally suggest that Curie was arrogant, so far, she had proven to lack that dreaded attribute.
"In the past, I have fought for days on end without rest. I felt considerably worse then, compared to how I do now, and still, I survived." Set said, hoping to appeal to her sense of logic.
Curie sighed and shook her head. "...Very well, but we shall try something new. I want you to try to summon your armor."
"My combat harness?" Set asked doubtfully. "I doubt that will work. I had that armor given to me many Solar Cycles before I was captured. It does not come from the same place as these holy relics."
"That is why I want you to try." Curie explained. "We now know your endurance is a limit to your abilities, but we do not yet know if there is a limit to what kind of object you can summon."
"Why not ask the Huragok, perhaps it knows?" Set asked, before turning to Funk. "Can I use my powers to summon my combat harness?"
"No." Funk bluntly answered. "Only equipment that has been registered to the Shunspace Translocation Network may be requested."
"The Shunspace Translocation Network…" Curie repeated to herself. "That suggests that others could use Set's abilities. Is that correct Funk?"
Funk was oddly silent for a moment, before giving an appropriately cryptic answer. "Not at this time."
"Then how could they gain these abilities?" Curie asked.
Funk remained silent for a long moment, so long that Set feared the Engineer was falling back on the habit of refusing to answer Curie's questions. Just as Set prepared to order it to answer, however, the Huragok gave its response. "Unknown at this time."
"For an Engineer, you give frustratingly vague answers to very simple questions." Curie complained. "Very well, if Set's armor cannot be summoned, is there a way that we can make it so that it can be?"
"You lack the necessary security clearance and tools." Funk answered. "However, I can perform the equipment registration process upon request. Please remember, current security protocols prohibit the storage of biological organisms, expired or otherwise."
Perhaps this effort is not so vain after all. Set thought, ignoring the mildly disturbed look on Curie's face. "That is of little concern to me, I only need to be able to summon my combat harness. Follow Curie, she will show you to it."
Funk did as instructed, and after a worryingly long wait, both Curie and Funk returned to the cell.
"Sorry about the wait, Funk spent a few minutes performing some kind of scan on your armor." Curie explained. "You should be able to summon it."
Set took a deep breath and closed his eyes, mentally picturing his combat harness and willing it to come to him. There was a sharp prick of pain through his whole body, and he opened his eyes to see some kind of blue energy field radiate off of him. After a moment, however, the pain stopped and the strange field vanished. A slipspace portal opened beside him, and his combat harness began to fall out moments later.
The portal closed, and Set heaved for air as it felt like all of the energy in his body was taken. His vision momentarily darkened and for a moment it almost seemed that he would pass out, but steadily, he managed to catch his breath.
"How do you feel?" Curie nervously asked.
"Exhausted, but rewarded." Set answered, gesturing at the prize he had summoned beside him. "You were right once again Curie, I apologize for doubting you."
"Do not apologize, a considerable part of science involves being wrong." Curie replied. "Still, this is a monumental breakthrough in understanding your Semblance, not to mention a useful ability to have."
"That it is, but I am afraid I have no more use for my armor than I do for this weapon." Set said, frustration seeping into his voice despite his best efforts. "And I do not know when I will be able to summon relics again."
If only I could fight alongside the Humans, I could put the Gods' gifts to use! Set thought, knowing it was a hopeless dream. For what felt like the millionth time, he cursed the damnable Prophets for turning him into an abominable criminal with their lies. In his heart, he knew there was no way he could ever feel as though he had redeemed himself, let alone in the eyes of the Humans. The countless number of Humans slain by his own hand was simply too great. At the time he had seen it as holy, as the will of the Gods, and despite how it sickened him now, he had taken pleasure in it. He knew better now, but it was simply too late. He would spend the rest of his life in a cell, no matter how much he tried to atone for his sins.
His thoughts must have shown on his face, because Curie looked at him with that expression of concern once again. "You are being a great help to us. Doctor Chase says the Herbal Synthesizer you gave her is very useful, and Funk's been helping out with maintenance around the ship. I… I can not promise that you will ever be able to go free, but I believe that you genuinely want to help, and so does Ben."
He was unprepared for her words, let alone the sign of trust from not only her but the Spartan as well. "Truly?"
Curie nodded. "He spoke up for you to Commander Miller, and so did I. The Commander is… worried, enough that he is not ready to trust you."
Again, Set found it hard to hold a grudge. "Your Shipmaster would be a fool to trust his former enemy so readily. But… thank you, for speaking in my defense, I do not deserve your kindness."
Curie was silent for a moment, and when she finally spoke, she spoke with the same conviction that she had earlier. "Do not demean yourself, Set. You were not given a choice about what you did, or even believed. Try to get some rest, we will see if you can keep testing tomorrow."
Set thought about her words even long after she left, unsure of what to make of them.
Alfred Wilson Planetary Headquarters, Command Center
November 17th, 1107 Local Time, 2552
In truth, Richard probably hadn't paid as much attention to the training of the new Cadets as he should have. Thankfully, Gunnery Sergeant Moerdani and his Instructors had done an excellent job on their own, but still, he felt as though he owed the recruits some of his own time. That was why today, as they were completing their final exercise of selection, he was watching them all from the Command Center, along with Mags and Moerdani.
To say that they were doing well would be an understatement. For the most part, the Cadets kept well to their teams, moved when they were meant to, fired their weapons with care and precision, and didn't panic when things started looking ugly. The few recruits who had active Auras of course showed even more promise, often being able to take on entire squads of their peers, alone.
There was one recruit in particular, however, that he made sure to pay extra close attention to.
"She's something special, isn't she?" Mags rhetorically asked as they watched Ilia effortlessly bypass yet another patrol of her clueless peers. "It's not just her camouflage either, she knows how to do just about anything quietly."
"You're too forgiving of her flaws." Moerdani argued. "She should have a team of Cadets by her side, but instead she's operating alone. Lone Wolves on the battlefield get killed, no exceptions."
Mags didn't reply, and Richard was pretty sure he could guess why, she had no real answer to his point. Ordinarily, he would've agreed, as a Marine who couldn't work with a team was as good as dead, were it not for one thing, he'd been in Margaret's shoes before.
Years ago, at Camp Currahee, he had argued in defense of a young Ben. He'd seen how much potential the boy had, and worried greatly that his inability to work with his teammates would cause him to be ejected from the Program. Now, he was standing in the same shoes that Commander Ambrose had, where he would be forced to decide whether or not a potentially-promising recruit was going to enter service.
Then again, Ben wasn't a former terrorist. Richard somewhat bitterly reminded himself, as he remembered his conversation with the young Spartan whom he'd practically raised. Terrorist or not, I'd still trust Ilia a hell of a lot more than I'd trust that thing in the brig.
One thing that certainly wasn't in question was Ilia's combat capabilities. Whereas the other Cadets who had Auras were capable of taking on individual squads, he wagered that Ilia could probably take on around a platoon's worth of her Auraless peers; likely more if she had time to prepare and was on favorable terrain. She'd already left multiple squads on the floor and was coming ever closer towards capturing her opponent's flag personally.
"She does have one thing going for her; she's driven." Moerdani noted. "I don't think I've heard a single complaint out of her, and she's gone through some of the rougher courses."
"Like I said, she's quiet." Mags pridefully said. "What do you think Gunny, should we keep her?"
He shook his head. "Only if her team wins. I'm giving nobody special treatment. If her team loses, she can wait until we have space for another company."
Mags looked doubtful, but nodded regardless. "Sticking to your guns, I respect that."
By the time that Ilia finally made it to the opposing team's bunker, very few Cadets on either side were left standing. Ilia's team had a very strong defense of their own flag, but Ilia was effectively on her own when it came to actually capturing the enemy team's flag.
"The whole match rests on her shoulders… and she doesn't even know it." Richard noted. "Alright Mags, if she manages to pull this off, I'll fold her right into Onyx Team. God knows they could use her talent."
"...and if she doesn't?" Mags asked.
Richard betrayed no emotion as he answered. "Like Moerdani said, she waits."
Alfred Wilson Planetary Headquarters
November 17th, 1522 Local Time, 2552
After hours of moving through the rain, the cold was starting to seriously get on Ilia's nerves. It was an effort just to keep herself from shivering, let alone keep moving quietly. But even as the cold clawed itself ever deeper into her skin, she kept pushing onward; she hadn't come this far just to quit now.
She found the enemy bunker to be exactly what she'd expected to find. Compact, largely featureless, and seemingly entirely constructed from concrete. Somewhere within was the enemy flag, and with it, Ilia's ticket into the UNSC.
I guess nobody else has made it this far. She thought, noting the complete absence of any signs of a struggle anywhere around the bunker. However, she also couldn't see any defenders, which was promising, although she wasn't foolish enough to believe that the enemy team would just leave their flag undefended.
Before she made a move, she did one final inspection of what she had left, as the journey to the enemy bunker had heavily depleted her munitions. Her paint grenades were all used, along with all but one magazine of ammunition for her Magnum. Lightning Lash still had half-charge, and her Aura was mostly recovered from her last fight, although not entirely. It would have to do.
After only a moment of building up her confidence, she crept forwards towards the entrance to the bunker, and almost immediately came under enemy fire. A pair of paint rounds scraped away a portion of her Aura as she was forced to the ground.
"Just give up already!" A man shouted at her from the bunker in-between bursts. "Your whole team is gone!"
She only briefly considered replying to the obvious lie, but decided against it as she dug herself deeper into the mud to avoid further fire. She cursed herself for the brief episode of short-sightedness, but stowed it. Now she was pinned, facing an opponent who knew her exact position, and didn't have any grenades to get her out of the situation she'd gotten stuck in. She could try shooting back, but without a solid bead on the enemy's position, it was unlikely that she'd do much except waste precious ammo.
There's got to be some kind of way out of here… Ilia thought, before noticing a baseball-sized rock on the ground beside her hand, which helped her put together an idea.
She took hold of the rock and chucked it towards the bunker, hoping against all hope that her opponent was too blinded by adrenaline and the rain to see through her paper-thin ruse as she screamed. "Grenade!"
Without pausing to see whether or not her trick had worked, she leapt to her feet and rushed down the bunker. Almost unbelievably, no bullets flew her way, and she was able to make her way to the bunker's entrance as the enemy took cover and waited for the "grenade" to explode.
I can't believe that worked. She thought, before raising her Magnum and executing a textbook breach on the next room of the bunker. Two enemy Cadets were present, and she put them both down with short bursts of fire. Another rushed through the door to reinforce them, and met a similar fate to his allies.
As she paused to check for pistol ammunition from the paralyzed recruits, she heard somebody speaking in the next room over. "Sir, somebody's here, they're trying to take the flag! Get back here, ASAP!"
Ilia didn't wait to hear the rest of what they were going to say as she rushed forward and took down the enemy Cadet with another hail of gunfire, leaving her magazine completely depleted. As he fell to the ground, Ilia noticed a radio fall out of his hands onto the ground.
Crap, better make this quick. Ilia thought.
She didn't give her opponents any room to prepare or breathe as she tore through the bunker and its garrison like a wildfire through woodland. A handful of barely-trained Auraless Cadets against a veteran Warrior with a custom weapon at point-blank range was hardly a fair fight, and before long, the last enemy recruit fell to the ground and Ilia was free to take the flag. It was bigger than she expected, resembling a full-sized standard rather than the small ribbon that she'd expected, but she could easily hold it in her left hand and Lightning Lash in her right.
Great, now I've just gotta make my way back… She doubled back through the bunker to the entrance, only to come under fire and be forced back inside as soon as she tried to leave. She only caught a brief glimpse of the enemy, but what she saw wasn't promising.
There was only a single enemy Cadet outside, but they were clearly not just any ordinary recruit. The man before her was helmetless, splattered with mud and flecks of the training paint, and holding an M6D Magnum and a clearly custom weapon. It was some kind of warpick, but beyond that, she hadn't gotten to see many details.
Resisting the urge to let out a loud curse at her situation, Ilia weighed up her options. To say she wasn't really prepared for a duel would be an understatement. Her magnum was totally empty, and while she could take one of her fallen enemies Assault Rifles, they were definitively two-handed weapons, and would leave her vulnerable in the inevitable melee. Her Aura had also taken a few more hits while she'd been clearing the bunker out as well, so her opponent would likely have more than her.
"Come on out, you can't hide forever!" The enemy Cadet taunted her. "Let's get this over with!"
Unfortunately, she saw little choice but to meet the challenge head-on. The longer she waited, the more likely it was that additional foes would arrive to stop her from escaping with the flag. She would just have to hope that her own skill was greater than his. I really could have done with some backup…
With no further delay, she tapped into her Aura and charged forward, holding the flagpole in her left hand and Lightning Lash in her right. The enemy Cadet fired two more pistol rounds at her before casting his own pistol aside, presumably he had also run out of ammo. Both bullets landed painfully on her chestpiece, but still, she charged forward.
As soon as she reached melee range, her opponent tried to skewer her with a downward strike from his warpick, but she blocked it with the flagpole. Exploiting the opportunity she delivered a painful strike to her enemy's gut with Lightning Lash, which caused him to stumble backwards and cry out in pain.
"Not bad… but I've beaten better!" He taunted, before retaliating with a series of rapid strikes that Ilia found it hard to keep up with. Blow after blow made harsh contact with the flagpole, rattling her chattering teeth. Exhaustion was starting to seriously weigh her down, and even in the middle of a heated melee, she felt absolutely frigid. Even so, she matched her opponent blow for blow, and stubbornly refused to be put on her back foot.
He can't push me, he must be just as exhausted as I am! She realized. If I can get a few good hits in, he'll be done for!
Taking a big risk, she dropped the flagpole and scooped up some mud off of the ground with her newly freed-up hand, before throwing it into her opponent's eyes. It wouldn't be enough to blind him thanks to his Aura, but it would sting badly and force him to fight the natural urge to close his eyes or look away, and that was enough to give Ilia an opening to jab Lightning Lash into his guts once more. His Aura flickered, before finally breaking, causing him to fall to the ground, out of breath and beaten.
"So have I." Ilia replied as she picked the enemy flag out of the mud and slung it over her shoulder.
She didn't waste any further time once she was sure that he wasn't getting back up, and began the long run back to her own team's bunker, but mercifully, she met no further resistance from the enemy. She was still exhausted and freezing, but somehow, holding the enemy's flag made her feel just a little bit warmer. It was evening by the time that she returned to her own team's bunker, and she was extremely happy to see some of her teammates still standing in defense of their flag.
"Check your fire, friendly coming in!" Ilia shouted as she raised up the enemy flag, causing her own teammates to cheer wildly as she marched forward and planted it in the mud.
It feels good to win for a change. She thought with a smile, as the triumphant cadets continued to celebrate their victory.
Alfred Wilson Planetary Headquarters
November 18th, 0701 Local Time, 2552
After a much-needed night's rest and an even more necessary shower, Ilia was finally ready to face her fate. She didn't have to wait long, as she was personally approached in the middle of breakfast by Moerdani. "Cadet Amitola, You'll be coming with me. Don't worry about your food, somebody else can deal with that."
"Yes, Gunnery Sergeant." She dutifully replied as she stood to follow him.
I guess it's time to see whether or not they've decided to trust me. She thought. Granted, they hadn't thrown her in a jail cell, which already indicated some degree of trust, but it remained to be seen if they would actually let her enlist.
"I have a personal question for you, if you don't mind me asking." Moerdani said. "Your application listed you as nineteen years old, was that a lie?"
Ilia was surprised by the shockingly polite tone from the man who had given her hell for the past week, but quickly nodded in response to his question. "I'm seventeen, Gunnery Sergeant."
"UNSC regulations expressly forbid us from recruiting anybody under eighteen years old." Moerdani said, causing Ilia to tense up as he spoke. "Relax, if no one asks, don't bring it up. It's not as well enforced as you might think. I was thirteen when I got tied up in the service, and I've never had any regrets."
"Thirteen?" Ilia asked. That honestly caught her off guard. On Remnant, it was fairly typical for kids to learn how to fight, but she hadn't expected the UNSC to be the same way.
Moerdani nodded grimly. "Lost my family to an Insurrectionist car bomb on New Java, and got picked up by a platoon of Marines shortly after. Rather than sending me home, I argued that I could stay, help them out. I don't know why they kept me around, but I'm glad they did."
Although it was probably a bad idea, Ilia's curiosity was strong enough that she couldn't help but ask. "Sir, I've been wanting to ask… The Insurrectionists… were they like the White Fang are now?"
"Worse." He answered without hesitation. Ilia averted her eyes and left it at that, the curtness in his response doing little to alleviate the sudden drop in her stomach. "We're here. Word of advice, be honest; no matter how hard the truth is."
With that last bit of cryptic advice, Moerdani led her into an office, and waiting inside were two other people. The first was Mags, who gave her a wide smile that helped ease Illia's worry, and the other was a man whom Ilia could've sworn she recognized from somewhere, before it finally clicked. She snapped to attention a moment later
"Cadet Amitola, my name is Commander Richard Miller. We've got a lot to discuss, so have a seat." Feeling as though she was sweating bullets, she did as she was told, before Richard continued.
"Let's get the good news out of the way. I've made the final call to accept you into service, regardless of your history. Congratulations on making the cut, Marine. " Richard stated.
Ilia couldn't help but sigh with relief as it felt like a massive weight was lifted off of her shoulders. "Thank you, Sir."
"Don't thank me yet, you haven't heard all that I've got to say." Richard replied. Much to Ilia's surprise, there was very little in the way of wariness or distrust in his voice, only exhaustion. "It may surprise you to learn this, but you aren't the first convict to enter UNSC service; not by a long shot. With that in mind, there's a few bits of paperwork I need you to fill out."
It was only once he handed over the papers that Ilia understood Moerdani's advice. It was, in essence, a confession form for her to admit to every crime she'd ever committed.
"Don't worry about any of this being used against you in court, by the way. It's just for the record." Richard added. "Besides, effective today, you are no longer a wanted woman anywhere on Remnant."
Ilia's eyes widened, she certainly hadn't expected that. "Even in Atlas?"
"Even in Atlas." Richard confirmed. "Now, you can fill out those forms on your own time, what I'm here to tell you about is your first assignment."
"My first assignment, Sir?" Ilia repeated, confused.
Thankfully, Moerdani stepped in to alleviate her confusion. "Frankly speaking Cadet, keeping you in training to teach you things that you already know would be a waste of everybody's time."
Mags smiled even more, if that was even possible. "They grow up so fast…"
"Your mission will be to advise a team of the best operatives I have at my disposal. We're hoping that your knowledge of the White Fang's tactics and operations can help put an end to this war sooner rather than later." Richard said. "Now, I'll have all of the fine details sent your way, but I need to know now; are you going to be able to fight, possibly even kill, members of the White Fang?"
Ilia remained silent, truth be told, she asked herself that question quite a lot over the last week and a half, and begrudgingly, she'd come to a painful answer. "Yes. The White Fang isn't what they used to be, I… I'll do what I have to."
She must have sounded convincing, because Richard cracked a small smile at her answer. "You know Mags, I'm starting to see why you vouched for her."
"Heh, about time." Mags cheekily replied. "Alright Commander, was that all you needed us for, or can I go start packing my bags?"
"That should be all." Richard said. "Ilia, you, Mags, and one of your new Squadmates will depart for Menagerie later today via dropship. Any questions?"
"Just one." Ilia replied, turning to Moerdani. "The rain, that was you, wasn't it? It was your Semblance."
Moerdani laughed and shook his head. "Cadet, I wish I had the ability to make it rain on everyone's parade, but no, it wasn't me."
"Better get used to that answer by the way." Mags said. "Practically nobody here has found their Semblances."
"If that's everything, I have work to…wait, I almost forgot." Richard said, before picking up a small box off of the desk and handing it to Ilia. "You'll be needing these."
She opened the box, within which was a pair of golden pins, each of which was composed of two chevrons.
"Congratulations, Corporal Amiltola." Richard said. "I wish you the best of luck on your upcoming mission, you're going to need it."
Corporal Amitola… She repeated to herself as he and Moerdani left. It seemed like such a small thing to have, a rank in the military, but considering what she had gone through to earn it, it sounded absolutely beautiful. Yeah… I like the sound of that.