A/N: The last prepatory chapter, because there's still so much to set up. Also my shortest chapter to date. I'll start with the field study next time, big promise.

And thanks as always for all the reviews, followers and favorites. Your continued interest is what keeps me going.

Chapter 8 Thors Moment II

As always she found herself swamped with paperwork. Unlike always she delegated most of the aforementioned work to various helpers of the Cadet Committee. The membership had grown since she became its leader though unlike at Baldurs she wasn't quite sure about the true motives of eager supporters. People who just wanted to make a difference? Career hounds wanting to improve their chances of staying another year at Thors? Usurpers who wanted an in into the inner circle all the while eyeing her position?

Towa could hardly fault the latter. She was an usurper herself.

It was with this sense of ambiguity that she took the processed documents handed to her by Friedel Gueldenstern, the younger sister of Liliana whom she ousted. Over the months since Towa's ascension the younger Gueldenstern sister had worked her way up and became the adjutant by unanimous vote, thus occupying the same position she held before. There was a sense of irony and drama that amused and cautioned her at the same time.

Or perhaps Rean was correct to worry. The Officer School was turning her more paranoid than was good for her.

Towa skimmed through the various reports. Flawless work as always. "Thank you very much for your help, Friedel." She said sweetly. "I don't know what I would do without your support."

The second Gueldenstern heir smiled coolly. "Probably doing an even better job, but you have something coming up, right?"

"Yes I do. A meeting with the principal. I'm still waiting...", but before she could finish there was a knock.

"Speaking of the devil," Friedel murmured. She flipped her hair. "Well, I think the committee is finished with its tasks today." She went to her desk to pack her belongings. "Don't work until too late, Chairwoman Herschel."

She chuckled. "I'll try. Enter please!"

Another young woman walked into the office, petite with strawberry pink hair. She wore the uniform of a commoner and a placid expression on her face.

"Hello Claire. Nice of you to come."

Friedel arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "The chief editor of the newspaper club. Quite a rare guest. Here for more funding?"

"Oh, my club can get more funding? Didn't know that, but thanks for mentioning it." She smirked. "I might ask madam chairwoman here to expand our budget for circulation. Right now we barely cover the campus, but I'm sure there's an untapped readership among the inhabitants of Trista."

The captain of the Thors fencing club pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm not sure having simple citizens get insight into our Officer School's..." She trailed off, struggling for words.

"Grapevine? Rumor mill? Gossip factory?" Claire put a finger to her lips and her smile turned mischievous. "Teenage drama unveiled?"

"Yes that. I don't think letting the general populace know about these things would be conducive to the image we should project to Erebonian citizens."

"Pfft, ever heard of sharing? You don't seriously believe that each copy of the 'Grand Rose Magazine' is only perused by exactly one person each time? Jane from the gardening shop and Matilda the train station receptionist always mooch of the newest issue from the cadets. I think even Lala from Radio Trista has recently become a fan. They go absolutely crazy about our articles."

Friedel's left eye was twitching though the rest of her composure was flawless as always. "Is that so?"

Claire was getting more agitated by the second, her formerly placid expression completely gone. "I mean, have you Erebonian Nobles ever thought of publishing some of your steamy social intrigues? There's this glamour magazine from the capital I guess, but it only deals with the Imperial Family and the occasional scandal at St. Astreia. I see soooo much untapped potential."

"Have you ever heard of the word 'discretion'? Or is it a foreign concept back in Liberl?"

Towa swallowed and readied herself to intervene.

Claire shrugged. "I don't see the problem. In recent times the popularity of the Erebonian Nobility is at an all-time low among the 'commoners'," she raised her hands and made the air-quote gesture, "so shouldn't people like you or your families think about ways to salvage it? Lifting some of the veil of mystery behind your opaque social practices? Marketing the scandals that happen anyway? Just think about it: childhood romances torn apart by arranged marriages, the forbidden throes of passion erupting between noble and commoner. A lot of up-and-coming novelists are already raking in the mira writing fiction about it. You nobles could take your share of the profit, only instead of fiction you tell real stories all the while polishing up your ruined image."

Friedel sighed. "I'll see myself out. Excuse me please."

"Running away the moment she's out of arguments." Claire went to the chair in front of Towa and plopped down. "I guess Mr Grumpypant Neithardt did stress the importance of a tactical retreat." She reached into her jacket and took out a paper bag. "Want some, Towa?"

The diminutive brunette breathed out in relief. "What have you this time?"

"Marzipan drops coated in dark chocolate."

"Then I'll have some please."

Claire stood up and bend over the desk. "Say 'aaah'!"

Towa wanted to protest, but the moment she started to speak the pinkette gently put the chocolate inside her mouth.

She felt the sweet melt inside her mouth, though Claire was still holding to it. It was only after her tongue relaxed that the pinkette finally retracted her fingers. A few seconds of delicious rapture followed while Claire slowly and sensually licked the saliva from her hand, her expression as lascivious as a certain skirt-chaser's on her best days. Towa felt her cheeks heat up.

"Angelica is rubbing off on you," she accused.

The pinkette across from her grinned. "Why, thank you."

Towa pouted. "I wasn't praising you."

"So, how's Quincybell's newest line-up?"

"Wait, this chocolate is a Quincybell product?"

"Yup! Seriously, when people outside of the Empire think of Erebonians, they always mention your war-like mentality or how good you are at making weapons." Claire furrowed her brows. "There might even be the occasional drunkard who knows about the excellent winemakers, Steinrose or such. But the rest of the world is totally ignorant about this nation's first-class chocolatiers. Ever thought of conquering the political world through diplomacy and sweets? Half the Zemurian population would capitulate instantly!"

Towa chuckled. As always, Claire made it hard to stay cross with her. "The problem is the other half. Some of their members traditionally occupy most of the truly powerful positions in society."

She sighed theatrically. "Always the men. Shame. There goes my masterful plan for Pan-Zemurian peace."

The brunette smiled wistfully. "Wouldn't it be nice if things were really this simple?"

"Any particular reason you called me? Or do you want my usual report?"

Towa closed her eyes. While most people at Thors thought that George, Crow and Angelica were her main supporters there was actually a hidden member of her close inner circle. George's silent dedication as Thors best cadet engineer and her achievements as an administrator were the rock-hard foundation of her school-spanning influence, while Crow and Angelica were her openly displayed fists. Claire Sterling though was best described as the dagger behind her back, a concealed weapon which nobody saw coming and almost no one even knew existed.

The young woman from Liberl came to Thors through a school exchange program as she was a student of Jenis Royal Academy beforehand. Towa knew there was a lot of push-back over her attendance and it only came through by dint of Prince Olivert's insistence. She also heard bits and pieces about a student of the Empire having attended Jenis, so Claire coming to Thors was a way of returning the favor. Thus, the first hesitant attempt of a transnational school exchange program was born.

The board of directors and especially members of the General Staff Office probably thought that a mere civilian from some backwater country would quit after a few weeks of being subjected to Erebonia's most elite education program - not to mention all the military conditioning.

Claire proved them wrong.

"The report can wait." Towa opened her eyes. "Though I imagine the Thors grapevine is in overdrive with the official inclusion of a class mixing commoners and nobles."

"Whatever you are imagining, it's not going to come even close. Especially the nobles are bursting at their seams with curiosity - and indignation I guess. It doesn't help that Class VII has their own dorm, is a testbed for prototype technology and only share few classes with the rest of the school. And they get a distinctive color all to themselves."

"Is this going to be a problem?"

"Not yet. There's some underlying resentment going around, originating mostly from the freshmen in Class I. The second and third year nobles are more chill about it and have a wait and see approach, but the preferential treatment has their eyebrows rising, too."

"You think we should start to let them intermingle more with the rest of the school?"

Claire shrugged. "That's not a question I can answer. A sudden shift in courses might come across as heavy handed which could ultimately backfire. I suggest waiting until the first field study, when all first year classes have to interact with each other anyway. Some cadets are already wondering whether you are going to use your position to give Class VII additional preferential treatment."

Towa twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "Well, this was one major reason why I ousted Liliana from her position in the first place."

"I know, but the moment cadets become aware of your favoritism and start pointing fingers, things are going to turn difficult. Right now Class VII are a bunch of unknowns with some really big names among them and no visible accomplishments. If the committee is going to dole out their support, it should only be after they prove themselves worthy. Otherwise you risk losing legitimacy and there's already the next Gueldenstern waiting to continue her family's tradition of 'excellence'."

She made the air-quote gesture again. "It doesn't help that you were seen so often with a member of Class VII last week. Rean Schwarzer, right? Most of the nobles didn't know anything about him, but the moment a former classmate from Baldurs spilled about his background..." she paused. "I'm sorry, but I fear Margarita is going to write an article about him in the next issue."

Towa buried her face behind her hands. "Oh no. I didn't realize. Does this school has eyes and ears everywhere?"

Claire smirked. "Frankly, yes."

"And you can't do anything to prevent the article from being published?"

The pinkette raised an eyebrow. "Not without arousing suspicion that I'm 100 per cent in your camp." She put another marzipan drop in her mouth and chewed slowly. "It's not the end of the world. It's all about how you spin the information and to be fair, his situation is uncommon enough to make a good article. Angelica is already helping him out, anyway."

Towa blinked. "Wait, she is?"

"The hottest talk right now is the fight between the adoptive son of a mere baron against the Queen of Duels Angelica Blade-Breaker Rogner, a clash of two exotic eastern styles, the Eight Leaves One Blade versus the Taito Fist, vying for supremacy."

The brunette almost planted her face on the desk. "Oh Angie, you never change." She raised herself up again. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but who won?"

"Technically, Angelica's the winner, but every eyewitness will admit that in all ways that matter it was a draw. Of course I'm going to do my part, so the proper result of the duel will be spread on campus."

"In other words, Angie created an example of a visible accomplishment."

"Yep. But it's just a beginning."

Towa sighed deeply. "I should really get out of this office and start to mingle again. I feel so out of touch about the goings on campus."

"As the chairwoman you are allowed to delegate your work."

"I've been doing this for the last four days."

Claire looked pointedly at her desk. "The large stacks of documents piled around you kind of refute your statement."

Towa chuckled. "This is mostly camouflage for the few truly important ones." She stretched out her arms and quickly drew out several thin folders in several colors.

"And this is?"

"The project files for the other reason I needed to become the committee chairwoman."

A marzipan drop fell out Claire's mouth. It took her several seconds to close it again. "Are you serious?"

"Deadly."

"I-I thought this was supposed to be a joke. A mere possibility. And where does the money come from anyway? Not even Angelica cashing in was enough."

"You remember the Orbal Bike project? George sold the patent to Reinford. I spearheaded the sales negotiation." Towa held up a green folder. "This is the business plan. I calculated everything down to potentially unforeseen expenses for the first six month. If the project doesn't take off until then we can consider the whole idea a failure anyway."

Claire put away the paper bag with shaky hands. "And you want me..."

"...to be chief editor, yes."

The pinkette swallowed. "If I accept, I'll have to give up my current role as club president. I won't be able to support you from the shadows anymore."

"No you won't." She folded her arms. "Our roles will be reversed. Big Sis Towa will be the one to have your back."

Claire smiled. "It could cost you your office in the long run."

"Perhaps, but it doesn't change the fact that I can put me being a committee chairwoman on my résumé. And I didn't strive for this position for the sake of it."

"Merely a stepping stone."

"Of course."

The pinkette breathed out. "What's next?"

Towa gave her a red folder. "This is a strategic oversight on how we go about establishing a newspaper to eventually rival the Imperial Chronicle. It's a work in progress and you are welcome to tweak it to your heart's content. Familiarize yourself with the current version because after that we have an appointment with Principal Vandyck."

Claire flipped through the pages. "A cross-media approach, eventual cooperation with Radio Trista..." She continued flipping. "An editorial made up of alumni from all military academies with Thors members at the helm... keeping everything connected through the Orbal Net, providing news content on a daily basis, a news room that exists in cyberspace..." Her eyes bugged out. "Wait, that's where everything's leading to?"

Towa allowed herself to be smug for once. "We are hardly going to take on the Imperial Chronicle playing by their rules. If things go according to plan, you'll eventually become the chief editor of the first Zemurian online newspaper ever."

Arise O Youth, the Thors Herald.

During his decade long tenure as principal, Vandyck had encountered his fair share of outstanding cadets. Despite being called a 'school' the educational reforms Thors underwent through the years had done away with many of the trappings of typical teaching institutions - a curriculum that couldn't keep pace with technological advances or blind adherence to theoretical book-knowledge while neglecting practical application.

Even in the face of that the project being presented to him dwarfed everything he could think of compared to what other cadets tried to achieve during their formative years at Thors. He looked over the three women sitting in front of him, all of them distinct in their idiosyncrasies.

"So if I understand correctly, Cadet Rogner is going to be chairwoman and major shareholder, Cadet Herschel chief manager and Cadet Sterling serves as chief editor?"

"That's the gist of it." Towa replied. "Given the unique political situation right now, we thought it the best time to establish a second major Erebonian newspaper."

"Are you referring to the tensions between the Reformist and the Noble faction?"

She tilted her head. "That too, principal, but I'm mainly thinking of the side agreements penned during the signing of the non-aggression pact two years ago."

Vandyck raised his eyebrows. As someone who had the honor of attending that most august of political event he understood immediately what she was talking about, but the side agreements weren't well known among laymen and the Imperial Chronicle also failed to address the topic. They were mostly a reaffirmation of key points laid out in the Arterian Charter of Universal Rights, freedom of the press among them. Given that the Septian Church played neutral mediator, they took the opportunity to slip in some of their own agenda as well. But like the promise of non-aggression, Erebonia's proclamation of honoring the Arterian Charter wasn't legally binding if the points mentioned didn't happen to be part of the Imperial Constitution in the first place. And freedom of the press had never been something the Empire saw fit to allow. Still, since the signing of the pact news makers started to become bolder and press censure wasn't enforced quite as strictly, so Cadet Herschel's assessment was as always perfectly on point.

"And utilizing the printing press of Reinford's 4th Division is another measure to make potential press censure more difficult?"

She inclined her head. "Heimdallr is out of the question. The central government could shut us down instantly and they don't even have to declare it an official censure given that the printing press is the property of the Imperial Family. I know from my time at Baldurs that there's a delicate balance between the Rogner family," she gave Angelica a glance, "and the Reinford Group and Marquis Rogner isn't going to disturb it outside extraordinary circumstances."

"What she said. Father is too much of a staunch conservative to like rocking the boat. This newspaper is going to run with my name on the helm, so he'll most likely assume it to be another stupid whim of a foolish daughter."

"Is that so?" Vandyck harrumphed. " Another thing that has me curious is the printing cost. I'm hardly an expert but it seems like Reinford charges you surprisingly little."

Towa wrapped a lock of hair around her finger. "Well, during the patent-negotiation chairwoman Irina was curious why we were in such a hurry to sell it instead of earning royalties once the Orbal Bike hit the shelves. Once we explained our reasoning she became intrigued which was quite a lucky break to be honest. We are going for a weekly print edition instead of a monthly one after all."

In other words, one member of Thors Board of Directors was already in her corner. The principal clasped his hands. "What can this old warrior do for you?"

Most of the requests that followed were well within his expectations and more of a formality than anything else, considering that the allocation of school resources was the cadet committee's duty to begin with: Two unused rooms located in the east wing for the editorial, a dedicated orbal terminal as well as a portion of the school wide data bandwidth. While irregular, work pertaining to the Thors Herald was going to count as club activity for the foreseeable future, though Vandyck was sure that the pretext wouldn't endure once the project really started to garner nationwide attention.

The final request did catch him off-guard though. "Pardon, but you wish me to contact Prince Olivert?"

Towa nodded. "Yes principal. You have seen this newspaper's mission statement. And I believe it to be in line with the prince's ideals."

Vandyck stroked his beard. "That's certainly true, but what do you want him to do exactly?"

"An exclusive interview would be a start," Claire remarked jokingly.

"That too," Angelica spoke up, "but first and foremost we need an endorsement. To be specific, an endorsement addressed to the Aulic Council."

"I see." This was something he didn't think of. But then again, this entire undertaking had the boldness and spirit of youth written all over. The three woman in front of him clearly had every angle covered. And looking at them he felt his chest swell with pride, for they embodied Emperor Dreichels' famous mandate to the letter.

"This is a compelling reason indeed. Consider it done."

He had been foolish. The warning signs were there. Both instructor Sara and Neithardt's reactions gave him ample reason to be cautious. But the first lesson ended up being almost boringly normal, so he let down his guard.

Falling right into the trap during lesson number two.

"History is the ultimate meta-discipline," a high-pitched male voice with a squeakily quality read out loud. "No matter which discipline or indeed any cultural technique, be it philosophy, medicine, politics, orbal science or something as mundane as cooking, everything has a history behind it."

His ears were burning brightly.

"Even the study of history itself has to begin somewhere. It can therefore be argued that as long as human beings take action, which also includes the systematic accumulation of knowledge in general, a study of the sequence of said actions can be made."

Every cadet in the classroom was staring at him. Some with pity or unease or even malice. There were one or two who were visibly suppressing their laughter - and failing. He thought of hiding under the desk and only his desire to hold onto the last scraps of dignity prevented him from going through with it.

"As far as essays go, the writing style is still rough around the edges," the history instructor continued in his squeakily voice, "but as far as the essay topic is concerned? To describe the essence of history? MARVELOUSLY DONE!"

The stares of his classmates became piercing. Sweat ran down his neck. Despite his Eight Leaves training, he found himself utterly helpless faced with a situation like this. He hesitantly raised his hand. "Instructor Lysander!?" The looks of the other cadets turned incredulous.

"Yes Cadet Schwarzer? Though may I call you Rean? To find a kindred spirit like you strikes me as providence granted by Aidios herself. I feel like we should dispense with formalities altogether." His classmates looked away one after another as the infernal instructor closed the distance with a bouncing step. It seemed like they were intent on ignoring his plight, happy to watch him fall into the pit he dug for himself.

"I want to point out that the gist of my essay isn't something I thought up myself, instructor. In truth, I merely quoted a...mentor of mine."

"MARVELOUS! Such words can only be the product of an outstanding mind and you being chosen by said mind reflects favorably on you as well."

Rean looked up from his desk coming face to face with the implacability of fate. All of the cadets were ignoring him now, happy in the knowledge of his unintended sacrifice. Only a single person was still looking, a very pretty woman with short blonde hair, a sweet disposition and the bluest eyes he had ever seen. Her demeanor seemed almost apologetic and for a moment Rean lost himself in the hypnotic beauty of her gaze.

The sight of deep blue was cut off by thick-rimmed swirls made up of glass as opaque as the deepest winter fog. It filled up his whole view alongside a manic grin. When Thomas Lysander opened his mouth again, the words he uttered fell upon Rean like a death knell.

"Would you like an extra history lesson in private?"

Two weeks later

At times like these Fie almost understood why someone like Sara enjoyed this whole instructor gig: training other people was surprisingly fun. As she watched Emma run through the obstacle course she constructed, Fie felt a tiny amount of pride. After two weeks of Sara's dreaded morning runs both orbal staff users were told to step up their game. Instead of the well-trodden forest trail they were also forced to traverse Trista Forest in a straight line, with all the little obstacles it entailed.

While Emma asked her for help before the jump in difficulty, all Fie did was point her to Le Sage Boutique and their assortment of Stregas. Her classmate's reaction was strange though, for she had never heard of this most holy of sneaker brand. Where did she even come from? The boonies?

After Emma bought some proper shoes, her performance instantly improved. But when faced with the challenge of running straight through the wilderness, stamina by itself wasn't enough. After she sprained her ankle on the first try, Sara was considering her return to the forest trail, but it was then Fie decided to step forward. She offered to train Emma on proper movement.

It was only fair. After all, the purple haired beauty had already started to tutor her in math. And orbal science. And history.

She needed to give something back. There was no way she would allow a repeat of her time in Zephyr. Back then, she was a meek little girl being helped out by everybody around her. A small leech who rode on the coat-tails of strong men and women.

When Sara convinced her to try this Class VII shtick, she wasn't that enthusiastic about it. Still, it ended up being her decision despite the pushy bracer. Now she had committed, so she was going to contribute.

Emma finally conquered the last obstacle, climbing and then vaulting over a six arge high wall. Just like Fie shown her, she didn't jump from the highest point, but lowered her body down the surface while holding to the wall top. She dropped and performed a roll on landing. Problem though: she was facing the wall the whole time during the drop instead of turning away, so her roll was stopped midway as her legs crashed against the barrier.

Not the most elegant finish, but she protected her knee joints at least. She stopped the time on her ARCUS. Four minutes, thirty-two. Much room for improvement, but this was to gauge the effectiveness of her coaching more than anything else. For a beginner like Emma, doing the movements correctly to minimize strain and maximize effectiveness of motion was key. Speeding up could come later.

Fie jogged to her diligent trainee who was laying on the hardwood floor, all four limbs splayed about. She was breathing heavily, her tank top soaked with sweat. The silver haired girl squatted down and pressed a bottle of water to Emma's cheek, making her cry out in surprise.

She might have gone a little overboard with the freezing art. Oh well, she didn't turn the water to ice, so worse case averted.

"Thank you, Fie," Emma pressed out between gasps. She opened the bottle and began to drink hungrily. Some water spilled over, wetting her soaked tank top even further.

A white cotton tank top.

Fie licked her lips and watched the eye-candy with unabashed interest. She wasn't sure what she was feeling towards her classmate or any of the other Class VII members, but most of them made her feel something. And she would never get to the bottom of these feelings by averting her eyes, even if it was a little perverted in this case.

Be honest with your vices, the boss used to say. He didn't exactly say it to her - more one of his silly platitudes he liked to spout when he was overdoing it with the gambling. She just happened to be in earshot, something he probably didn't intend, for he was so very quick to shield her from vices like some overprotective, doting... fool.

Being honest with vices her ass. Hypocritical old man.

"You did well."

Emma was still struggling for breath. "I-I'm so sorry. Still... inadequate."

For someone who had been at it for merely a week, Fie thought she was doing great. Not even people with Jaeger Enhancements became strong immediately. And never without hard training. She took out her classmate's decorative glasses and handed them back. Even without trying them on, which she did while Emma was occupied, it was clear the purple haired beauty had perfectly good eyesight. The way she handled the obstacle course without even once squinting her eyes was a dead giveaway.

Emma put on her glasses, toning down her looks from majorly hot to merely pretty, something Fie had a hard time understanding. She wore dark leggings or tights to hide her scars. To avoid stupid questions. But she didn't get what Emma's glasses were supposed to hide. Her awesome looks?

Whatever. She wasn't going to pry.

"In the future, try to move faster when climbing."

"Didn't you suggest that I should do it slowly right now?"

"Yeah, I did. But climbing a vertical surface is a little different. If it's just a short distance, it's better to be quick. You use your previous upward motion to power up your next step. If you pause between each movement, gravity has time to catch up to you."

"I see. This makes a lot of sense. Thank you Fie, you are really good at this."

More like aping what she had been taught by people she could never match. "I'll go clean up. You catch your breath."

Fie started to dismantle the obstacles and carry it away as part of her own training, putting stacks of wooden plates, vaulting horses or beams into the equipment room at top speed. Halfway through her work, she heard another person step into the gym.

"Knocking yourself out, aren't you?"

She stopped midway to give the speaker the most sarcastic look she could muster.

"Hello Crow." Emma greeted him with a little wave, still too tired to stand up and do her customary bow.

"What no greetings from you, Fie? Come on, that's cold."

"Here for research again?"

"Well..."

"Eh, what kind of research?" Emma asked.

"Optimal bouncing vectors," Fie deadpanned.

"Hey short-stuff! That was supposed to be our secret!"

"Optimal..." Emma's face lit up like a tomato. "Crow!"

"Aww, look what you've done."

He had it coming. As Emma gave him a good dressing down, she stood at the sidelines and watched the fireworks with a smirk. Out of the second years the white-haired jokester was the one she was closest with. Angelica was pretty cool, but her constant flirting put a damper on things. Towa was probably one of the nicest persons she knew. The brunette was the first to help her with studies, but Fie soon started to feel bad with taking up her time, what with the gigantic workload she had. George always shared sweets with her, which was also nice, but they had too little in common. That left Crow, who reminded her a little of Xeno. A playful and relaxed attitude that hid a dangerous fighter with a rare touch for misdirection and firearms.

And just like Xeno, he needed to be taken down a peg or two on occasion.

After Emma was finished with giving Crow an earful, Fie resumed tidying the hall, but the second year told them that there was an announcement for all first years to be held soon.

Right. The briefing about the field exercise. She totally forgot. So he had a reason for coming beside ogling.

"How about I help out with the equipment here?" The second year offered.

She nodded curtly. "Kay." Emma also joined up, though she still gave Crow a glare or two. Together they soon had the hall restored to a pristine condition with her and the second year even cleaning up the floor.

"Thanks." A little perverted and a slacker, but she could always count on his help.

"Don't mention it. Well, I'll be going. Perhaps there are other Class VII members who have forgotten the appointment."

"If I may ask, why do you know about the briefing in the first place?" Emma, while still leery, seemed somewhat mollified after his aid.

"Because second years like me also need to partake in field exercises. We can choose our assignments though and we also get to command you firsties."

"I'm not taking orders from you."

Crow tsked playfully. "My, my Cadet Clausell. Insubordination before the mission even begins. This doesn't bode well."

"Doesn't Class VII have a special field program anyway?" Emma remarked.

The second year winked. "That's for me to know and for you to find out. The meeting is in lecture hall two." He turned on his heels and left. "See ya!"

After a hot shower and a change of clothes they were ready for the briefing. Emma still fussed about Fie's tie, something the former Jaeger was happy to allow. While Crow was like Xeno, Emma reminded her of Kirsi. Their looks and personality were nothing alike, but they gave off a similar vibe both carrying a somehow motherly aura. Not that she knew what a mother felt like in the first place, but it fit her imagination. And having female adults in the corps had its perks. While all the grown ups took part in raising her, there were things better handled by a woman's touch.

Like when she had her first period.

Confusion and pain aside, it was a good memory. Seeing Xeno, Leo and even the boss running around like headless chickens just because she was bleeding between her legs was one of the funniest sights ever. It was Kirsi who explained to her what the blood signified.

"What are you smiling about?"

She blanked her face and felt a pang in the pit of her stomach. "Nothing."

Emma simply nodded and finished the tie. That was another thing she liked about her. The purple haired beauty never pried which is why Fie returned the courtesy.

"Shall we go?"

The lecture hall was packed to bursting. Usually it could house the entirety of the first year cadets and some, but there were also retinues of enlisted soldiers being present. Seeing the man behind the speaker podium, it became clear why: Brigadier General Gneisenau, the official Vice-principal of Thors was the one holding the briefing. Fie had spoken to him once and the only lasting impression she got was that of an oily bureaucrat. A typical armchair general, though the boss would call him a REMF. Due to being active duty he was absent most of the time, making Beatrix the true Vice-Principal at Thors in all but name.

The other retinue of soldiers wore gray uniforms in contrast to the dark violet of the regular Imperial Army. Fie frowned. The RMP, another elite section of Erebonia's glutted forces. Leo called them worthy opponents and the boss repeatedly stretched that an RMP company was easily a match for an entire Zephyr regiment. Given that they were also called the Blood and Iron Chancellor's attack dogs, Jaeger corps working in the Empire often had to tussle with them.

Their most frequent employers in Erebonia were nobles after all.

Emma and her made it to the other Class VII members. Crow and Angelica also lounged near their group, bickering with each other as always.

"Ah, my favorite wayward student. I trust the coaching sessions are going well?"

Emma bowed slightly. "Yes instructor, Fie does a wonderful job."

She saw Rean giving her a dorky thumbs up. Gaius and Machias both smiled and the bespectacled guy even inclined his head respectfully. Sara made one of her silly faces and started to pat her head, but her hand snaked out and swatted the offending limb aside. Then her eyes met Laura's. For a second, the air froze. Then the swordswoman turned her head away as if this little bit of contact never occurred.

Fie felt her heart constricting.

She didn't know what happened. Two weeks earlier, after Angelica fought Rean, a duel she regretted missing, the bluenette's attitude toward her did a complete 180. Out of all the Class VII members, she was the one who she felt the most kinship with, despite the stark difference in their background. The ARCUS Link between them simply felt right, both of them existences who shined the brightest in the heat of battle.

The nasal voice of the brigadier general interrupted her musings.

"Salutations, ladies and gentlemen of Thors. Today I would like to talk about transportation. You are surely aware that Liberl, Calvard and our beloved Empire all have a method of transportation that is most emblematic to the respective nation. The Liberlian's have their aircrafts, Calvard has their orbal cars and Erebonia has it's famed railroad. I'm not going to start droning about pros and cons of each transportation method, but I will tell you that in the context of the biggest military on the continent, the railroad reigns supreme! A big army might sound good on paper and during political negotiations, throwing around numbers might intimidate a head of state who never ran a combat operation his entire life. You on the other hand should know better. The strongest tanks are useless if they can't reach the battlefield and a high number of soldiers will clog up supply lines if not properly transported, all the while being a massive drain on the country's economy."

He bend down on the podium, his hand clenching into fists. "It is said that a good field commander masters tactics, while a good general masters logistics. And the key to Erebonian Military Logistics is to master the use of the mass transportation system called the railroad. As an educator I'll of course say that everything Thors teaches you is of the utmost importance, but if I were forced to make a choice, the one thing aspiring officers of today absolutely need to internalize is the know-how on how to do mass mobilization by train."

He turned around and opened the blackboard, revealing a map of Western Erebonia. Fie's eyes were drawn to several colored highlights all centering around a certain familiar city. So that was going to be this month's destination, huh?

"The field exercise is going to be conducted in one week starting at 5 pm sharp. The train we use will be of civilian make. Retrofitting it for military transportation, loading supplies and weapons as well as coordinating the operation will be at the discretion of the cadets. The instructors are there for oversight, but they aren't going to hold your hand the whole time. As you can see," he gestured to the map, "the destination is Saint-Arkh. The exercise area includes Parm as well and the duration are four days. Beside the train operation, which is mandatory for everyone, cadets have the opportunity to deepen their chosen skillset in life fire exercises with Dreizehn tanks, scouting and marksman training as well as radio communication. Due to our location, members of the military law course are permitted to attend lectures and seminars at the Saint-Arkh Aulic Council during the third and fourth day."

She saw Machias straighten after this announcement. Right, he was a law major. "Last but not least, there's of course Special Operations which will be conducted by our unique addition this year." Following the brigadier general's gaze, the other classes turned to the red jackets almost as one. Fie ignored the pointed stares, though even she felt the weight of attention settling on their little group.

"As aspiring officers I also want to remind you of the provisional rank you carry. As second Lieutenants of the Imperial Army you have limited policing power in the Sutherland Province. I must stress though that even the lowest Provincial Army soldier supersedes your rights in this regard. Keep this in mind. The last thing we need is a jurisdiction war breaking out or seeing Thors position as neutral arbiter threatened. Last but no least, Forsetis Military Academy is going to send second year students to watch our life exercises. Some of these students are even slotted to participate. As such, I expect flawless conduct. Carry yourself with dignity and grace befitting a future officer of the Empire and set a sterling example for those younger than you." The man went into parade rest. "Thank you for your attention."

After some polite applause, Brigadier General Gneisenau stepped beside the podium. "Now, I would like to introduce you to a guest lecturer who will serve as liaison to the RMP. She will also be the main overseer of this field exercise's train operation." He nodded towards the gray uniformed retinue. "If you would, major?"

The woman with cerulean blue hair who walked to the front was stunning, but not in the martial sense. Since Fie started to attend Thors she had been surrounded by a lot of attractive people, but even the prettiest women here paled to the sheer outer perfection of the beauty who took place behind the podium. Everything about her seemed like it came out of a painting - smooth, pretty skin, her face the likeness of a... what did Leo call it again? A bisque doll? Coiffed hair that was bound in a stylish side-way ponytail and her curves could be seen even through the drab uniform. They were optimally proportioned, the essence of womanhood without being exaggerated like Sara or Emma, although that had its own charm. Fie squinted her eyes. In a way, she was too perfect, as if she wasn't entirely real, a body designed on the drawing board. And there was also the way she moved.

It was the gait of a seasoned killer.

She saw Jusis glare and clench his fists, before restoring his posture. Even Sara was frowning. Another noble cadet stood up, his face flushed and his orange hair swaying a little due to the sudden movement. "Is this supposed to be a joke? Bleating about being neutral only to install one of the Ironbloods as a guest lecturer? Is this how far Thors has fallen?"

Murmuring broke out, but this time Principal Vandyck stepped up. The man didn't utter a word, his mere presence calming the room until it was silent again. "Cadet Hyarms, be assured that this joint operation between Thors and the Railway Military Police has been approved by your father. Marquis Hyarms is also well aware of the particulars including the major's part."

The man folded his arms across his barrel chest. "I understand your distaste, but please consider that what the RMP is going to share with the cadets is not political ideology. As Vice-Principal Gneisenau stated, the railway network has become an indispensable part of Erebonian Military Doctrine. This is a reality even the Provincial Army cannot escape from. The RMP could as well hoard their know-how, but they choose not to. I would see this as an olive branch instead of an attack."

The Hyarms guy scoffed. "And am I to believe that the RMP isn't going to use the opportunity to shamelessly poach cadets, understaffed as they are?"

"I won't deny it," the cerulean haired woman interjected, her voice deeper than her delicate features would suggest, "but in the same vein we cannot prevent cadets like you to use our expertise against us somewhere down the road, can we?"

The pompous noble scoffed again and sat down. Seemed like he ran out of retorts.

The RMP major cleared her throat. "Now that grievances have been aired, allow me to introduce myself." She smiled though it didn't reach her eyes. "Claire Rieveldt, former Thors alumni and as you no doubt have gleaned from the conversation, a major of the Railroad Military Police. It's an honor to stand before you and do my part in educating the future of Erebonia's finest..."

The so called 'briefing' continued until Fie was bored out of her skull. There were a lot of undercurrents she didn't understand, politics surely, and a lot of stuff dealing with logistics which had never been her strong suit. Cynthia and Leo were the ones who mainly dealt with the corps' finances and supplies. Even the boss hated doing the stuff and took every opportunity to play hooky, often turning it into a game of hide and seek.

Jaeger style of course, so copious use of traps, grenades and ordinance to keep Leo and Cynthia at bay, while they hounded the old man for his signature on some stupid bill or contract. And more often than not, he made her into his accomplice, something she relished. Kirsi reprimanding her once the game was over was just the cherry on top, when she told her 'to stop spoiling the old fart'.

It had become easier to think back to her time with Zephyr. Slowly, so very slowly, the sting of loss and abandonment lost its bite, the good times mixing with the bad to make the memories bittersweet. She glanced to the side where Sara was sitting. The former jaeger turned bracer had approached her shortly after the term began and they talked...

It was awkward like all gehenna.

It was still a good talk and she was surprised to learn how similar their backgrounds were. They repeated the talks over the weeks, though it often ended up with both of them doing weapon maintenance side by side with nary a word exchanged. It still made it easier to deal with her issues, so she was grateful.

The lecture hall was almost empty now. Only Class VII, Instructors Sara and Neithardt as well as Crow and Angelica still remained in their seats. Major Rieveldt was talking with the brigadier general. The quartermaster of Class VII's dorm, Lieutenant Commander Leuventhal walked towards their group, the clacks of her heeled boots resounding strangely in the big room.

"Any reason you lot are still remaining?" the navy officer asked, her lips forming the shadow of a smirk as always. The woman had become another fixture in Fie's life at Thors, albeit a distant one. Beside her role of making sure their housing was properly maintained and stocked, she was also the second instructor in their orbal science classes together with Makarov.

"Weeell, knowing now that Ms Icy Maiden is part of this shebang, I have the slight suspicion that our esteemed Vice-Principal might have done some last minute changes to Class VII's field program - again."

Major Neithardt folded his arms. "While I wouldn't express my reservations quite this flippantly, I fear that Ms Valestein's worries might turn out to be true."

"I see." The navy officer retrieved a small package and took out a cigarette. A quick glow of arts activation, as short as a blink, to ignite the stick of tobacco. She inhaled deeply, the tip of the cigarette glowing brightly, before releasing the smoke with a satisfied sigh.

"This is the stuff! By Aidios, this briefing took much too long." She looked around. "Anyone here want a try?" She displayed the cigarette package in her hand.

Most of her classmates declined and before Fie could express her interest, Major Neithardt interjected: "Lieutenant Commander Leuventhal, I would ask you to refrain from trying to corrupt our cadets. Your smoking is as unacceptable as Valestein's drinking."

Both female instructors looked at each other before simultaneously shrugging, their expressions mirroring each other in a this-is-the-kind-of-guy-we-have-to-deal-with way. The second years started to snicker when they saw the faces and Fie also found it pretty funny. It was the kind of exasperation that was often shared between Kirsi and Cynthia who liked to call themselves the only sane people in Zephyr. Compared to those two, Sara was kinda out there. As for the LTC, Fie wasn't sure, for she couldn't gauge the woman properly.

"Greetings to you, instructors and cadets of Class VII." The RMP major had finished her talk with the Vice-Principal and approached them calmly.

"Ah, my favorite RMP person," Sara drawled, her voice oozing sarcasm. "To have an Ironblood gracing us with her presence, what honor!"

"Hello to you too, Sara," Major Rieveldt's voice was clipped. "Major Neithardt, Lieutenant Commander Leuventhal." She inclined her head a fraction. "And hello to you, Alisa, Rean." Her face broke into an earnest smile. "It's been a while, though I have expected Towa to be here as well."

"Hello, Major Rie-, I mean Claire." Both Alisa and Rean stumbled over their greetings and Fie narrowed her eyes. Those two had been giving off strange vibes since the orienteering exercise, something everybody from Class VII had picked up on.

"Towa isn't here today," Angelica spoke up, "but consider us her stand-ins."

"Angelica Rogner I presume? It's an honor."

"The honor is all mine. By the way, major, you don't happen to be free this evening?"

"Gelica, could you stow it for once?"

"I fear I'm unavailable this evening as my timetable is full until next month. If it's urgent though I could spare a minute or two later." The cerulean haired beauty turned to their group, demeanor becoming crisp and businesslike. "I can see that some of you already anticipated last minute changes." Sara snorted, which she ignored. "The train operation is still mandatory for all cadets including you, but after establishing the base Class VII will be housed in Saint-Arkh - in the building belonging to Veteran Affairs in fact."

All cadets including Fie looked at each other in confusion. Only Machias kept his cool. "If I remember correctly, Veteran Affairs is located in an adjunct building to the Aulic Council?"

"Exactly. It's in fact the Aulic Council who will be the main... instigator of your field study tasks, so we thought it prudent to have your main base of operations nearby."

Machias expression became strange when he heard the words, though he didn't seem to dislike the message.

Alisa meanwhile was outraged. "Wait a moment! I attended Thors with the understanding that I would be part of life fire exercises. Observing and working with Reinford products in action is a main reason why I came here in the first place."

"I'm sorry to inform you Alisa, but this is the military. Chain of command is absolute and you go where you are assigned to." The major's face softened and a tender smile appeared on her lips. "I'm sure you will have ample opportunity in future field studies to achieve what you came here for. Besides, an engineer's talent is always needed. You don't want to leave your fellow cadets short a valuable skillset, do you?"

The blonde blushed prettily. "I... guess not. Sorry, that was selfish of me."

"No harm done, Alisa," Rean said warmly, which made her turn around in surprise. "And thanks as always for your encouragement, Major Claire."

"I haven't done much, Rean, but thanks." She looked around, smile still present. "It was nice meeting all of you. I look forward to being a temporary instructor for the next week." She saluted sharply and left.

"What a woman," Crow said with a whistle when she was out of earshot.

"As much as I would like to reprimand you, I can't find it in myself to disagree," Machias said with a sigh.

"Ditto," Elliot added.

Fie couldn't contain her curiosity anymore. "Speaking of 'Major Claire'," she put on her best predatory grin and focused her gaze on Rean and Alisa, "how come the two of you are so close to her?"

Sara and LTC Leuventhal both started to smirk as they turned their attention to the pair. The rest of Class VII plus second years soon followed.

Watching the two squirm was almost a reward in itself, but at this point, she really was hungry for answers and it seemed that her other classmates plus instructors shared her sentiment.

Rean scratched his head. "Well..."

Fun fact: Technically, this chapter only has one OC. Guess who?

And I'm aware that Claire still holds the rank of captain in CS1, but I find this pretty unrealistic. A military officer who according to Karl Regnitz has the entire Provincial Army 'scared stiff' should really hold the authority to command more soldiers. Lechter can get away with captain, because field intelligence is either solo work or small groups, but for the RMP to project power they need numbers.