The launch tube was dark, and quiet. All the air had been been sucked out by the pressurization system. The inside of the Kataphract is next to quiet, although there is more than a little noise as the pilot of the Kataphrakt runs the pre-launch checklist. The flipping of switches, the slam of the control sticks against their housings. Even the jets of the Kataphrakt's reaction control system, fired in the test sequence that the pilot needs it to. All directions, all dimensions. The jets were hot; pushing strong against the harness that kept the Kataphrakt against the catapult as the pilot waited against their own harnesses inside the cockpit, anxiously.
"Ender; this is Alpha-Sierra."
The pilot depressed the push-to-talk button on their left control stick.
"This is Ender, go ahead."
"Ender," The traffic controller over the radio talked in his usual, laid-back gait. "Jester has cleared you, perform interval check."
They'd already done that, running up the reactor of their Kataphrakt and firing the RCS jets.
"Interval check complete; Ender." They responded with their call-sign last, a signal of who it was speaking.
There was silence for a moment or two.
"Ender, Alpha-Sierra, opening the doors now." From the 3D panoramic monitor, the pilot saw the doors beneath the feet of their Kataphract open up, one by one, until nothing but inky black so dark that not even the brightest light could illuminate it, remained beneath their feet.
"Alpha-Sierra this is Ender, ready to depart. All checks complete."
"Ender, you're clear to launch, countdown started."
"Say countdown?" The pilot asks into the microphone.
"Five to go, Alpha-Sierra."
The pilot counts, slams their eyes shut, and waits until their stomach shoots up into their throat, which it does as soon as they count to "five". They wonder, as they rocket along the length of the catapult, if the remnants of their dinner the night before might come up. But it never has, and never will during a launch. They didn't open their eyes until the lurch of the acceleration stopped, and saw just the last streaking flash of the catapult's lights flew past their monitor, and then was replaced by the starscape that surrounded the Academy. They jammed the controls forward, and were pushed back into their seat as they rocketed around the perimeter of the asteroid-turned-Academy; towards where the main fight was going on. With a free hand during a free moment, they turned up their radio unit, the sounds of battle of their side pouring into their helmet. Radio calls and cries for backup during this fight. One transmission cut through the rest; "About damn time you showed up, Redline!" It was the voice of House Regulus' commander; out here, during a fight — there was no point to using the same call-and-response type of brevity that they used to talk with the traffic control, or payload masters, or ground handlers — it was all hell had broken loose as laser shots were fired between units and even dummy missiles were used. Redline was more or less expecting the main fight to have turned into the fur-ball that fights generally did once contact between two sides were established, and the Kataphrakts were able to really shine. There was no asteroids, no artificial structures to ensure some level of strategy was used; instead it was just a raw fight between the two sides.
Redline jerked their controls, adjusting the attitude of their Kataphrakt, who had the name "Ender" stenciled on it near the humanoid machine's collar; it was painted in black and silver and red, and beelined towards the fur-ball of a fight that was unfolding, not waiting for clearance to engage; by virtue of the sides being engaged, there was no point to doing anything else than fight. Redline charged in; letting the computers of the Kataphrakt mark out friends versus foes, and using the highlighted enemies as moving target practice as they let the inertia coast them into the fur-ball, before changing direction and dodging a flurry of laser fire that was sent their way. They returned fire in the direction of which they had been taking fire from; and let the burst of light a moment later indicate that there was some level of success in hitting their mark. There was no point in confirming the lack of Identification-Friend-or-Foe signal; just charge from one target to the next, using Ender's superior close-range laser system to chew apart any unsuspecting Kataphrakt that got in its way. Redline and Ender charged their own way through the fight, ignoring the stragglers on the outside of the battle, and instead making whatever maneuvers were needed to keep the enemy in Ender's sights, and then simply pulling the trigger when they needed to.
The battle was quick, especially now that Redline had deigned to show up to it; and was even quicker once the enemy forces were routed, and before long, the surrender signal came from the enemy commander; a flashing green-and-white box that took up a corner of Redline's panorama, and made it clear that Redline and their side had won.
From the outside, there was nothing more than a flurry of laser fire and explosions as reactive armor did its job and even standard armor melted and exploded in contact with laser fire. There was no keeping track of one side or the other; but from inside the Academy, one could quite easily pick out what was happening, using the superior tracking systems and IFF log of the School's observatory deck; where many students were gathered to watch the battle between House Regulus, and House Pollux. Several cheered when the observation deck announced the victory of House Regulus against Pollux; and a few more clapped, as was tradition to do so.
There was one young man who sat in one of the chairs on the deck, but did not clap, nor did he look up from his small notebook even as the battle between the two houses reached its apex, and then conclusion. He instead focused on continuing to notate words on a page as they came to him. He didn't mind the other students on this deck, he had been there since long before they had shown up, and would likely be there until it was time to leave for classes. He wrote, diligently, only pausing when he needed to find the new words to describe what he was trying to encapsulate inside his prose. He never talked about it, but it had earned him the moniker of the Quiet Novelist, although that wasn't his call-sign, or even close to it.
Noah "Thorn" Regula, a student in the Piloting Department, did not look up from his writing as the observation deck cleared out. He instead, waited until the bell rang throughout the halls of the academy, signaling that there were just a few minutes until the first classes of the morning would start.
This was how life at the Earth-Vers Special Academy, or as it was more commonly called by its administration and its students; "The Academy". Students, aged from fifteen to eighteen were scouted from among the student bodies of their respective planets, and brought to the Academy. There were no deaths during these battles.
The Academy had been proposed as part of the Versian reparations that had been levied to the United Forces of Earth by the late Emperor Rayregalia Vers Rayvers who had died before the end of the reparations had been finalized, and then finished by his successor, the now Empress Asseylum Vers Allusia. It had been, reportedly, her idea, after interacting with several Terrans during her time in refuge with them aboard the UFE Deucalion. She had seen the need, both in the moment, in hindsight, to help rebuild Terra, while also benefiting her own home-world, and that meant creating a joint venture between the states of Earth and Mars, to try and create and form the minds that would bring about the rebuilding of Earth, and the advancement of Mars, while also openly sharing the secrets and research into Aldnoah as a technology, to better advance the two states, and mutually assure peace on both sides. As such, technology on Earth had advanced by bounds; and the weary Earth was beginning to share its own bounties, in exchange for the manpower and knowledge needed to rebuild a vastly devastated planet.
This didn't mean that the relationship between the two planets was completely healed, but rather that it was on the mend. Many, on both sides, disagreed with the notion of making a Special Academy for both sides to work as a joint venture. In fact, many of the students disagreed as well; but weren't in a position to argue — being scouted by their states and the academy both meant that it was an invitation that one could not refuse whatsoever.
The Academy was built in the twenty years following the ascension of Empress Asseylum Vers Allusia, carved out of a discovered planetoid that was in a stable orbit between the orbits of Earth and Mars, and meaning it was as neutral ground as it could possibly be, between the two states. Set to spin to give it gravity on the inside, and external structures built out of material refined from the remnants of Earth's moon, and the material carted in-system from the Asteroid Belt. It was one of Humanity's largest space stations; with tens of thousands of students, and then thousands of support staff. All for the common goal of teaching and learning what was needed to build up the two nations once again.
Once at the Academy, students were sorted into their Houses, and assigned to departments, depending on their aptitudes. Engineering, medicine, sciences, mechanics, piloting, and many others; although the most sought after students were those with extreme aptitude for engineering, mechanics and piloting. There was always a need for Kataphrakt operators, their maintainers, and those to create the plans that needed the Kataphrakts to complete them. The Medical and Scientific students had their own curriculum, but all of that would go out the window as soon as a House Battle or a Duel was declared. They would gather on the observation deck, and wait patiently — sometimes up to hours before the first launches of the battle would happen. One might wonder why at all the school that was focused around the rebuilding and advancement of the two states, why there was combat training, and even mock battles in this manner. But there was something to be said for the fact that Kataphrakts were inherently combat-oriented machines, and the best suited to the nature of combat, rather than the precarious nature that was the repair of buildings and the construction of new architecture, where humans would need to take several groups of themselves to do something, and then clumsy machines where they couldn't do something with their collective bodies. And in a manner, it was recreation to those piloting students and those student mechanics and even some of the project management students; all coming together to create something greater than the sum of their individual parts, or even the nature of the Kataphrakt of itself.
Furthermore, the recreation was approved by the teachers, staff, and even the grand councils of the United Forces of Earth and Vers Empire. There was the understanding that there was a need to curate students who had the understanding of how to properly use Kataphrakts in combat, on both sides, now that both sides were capable of creating the same machines, the same war tools that put the two nations on the same footing. As such, that meant that with both sides having the same military prowess, the same talent of personnel, that there was less of a chance to create a lasting peace. Not through mutually assured destruction the way that the world had operated before the Vers Empire had come about, but through mutually assured strength, through the bulwarks of mutual defense.
But that was something that Noah did not think about, something that he wasn't focused on at all. No, if he had his way, he would spend his days on the observation deck, watching the stars beyond, and finding his inspiration from them in their steady beaming across lightyears. But he knew his duty meant that there was something that he had to do, and what he needed to do this day, and when the bell rang he would do it. He'd get up and go to his classes, and would study diligently in the morning, spending the morning in classes; then retreating with a small lunch to a corner of the dining hall of House Vega. He'd have his afternoon classes, which were two short ones, generally for most students those two classes were electives, physical education, combat history, special research projects, or maybe even astronomy. Noah would have his Terran History class, and then a class touching on Aldnoah technology theory, only in an extremely introductory manner. Both classes that interested him, and gave him his own ideas for his writing. Although he wouldn't get time to himself again until after dinner, when it would be time again for a possible duel or battle, and the observatory deck would start to get crowded with hopeful people trying to find a good spot to watch a battle that they didn't even know for sure would be going on. But it was the only spot int he school that Noah truly felt like he could write freely, or at least write in an inspired manner, rather than in the quiet of his bedroom. It was harder to get words down in the observation deck, but what words he did write felt more true to what he was truly trying to write, rather than the shadow that they would otherwise take on in the other places he would write in. But today was to be a special day, one where he would not be able to return to the deck, instead needing to get ready after his afternoon classes, for a sortie. Today's sortie was to be an extra session with the members of House Vega, focusing on their combat capabilities. It was a biweekly event, one where that his particular house had voted democratically to participate in. They wouldn't be the only house there, House Regulus, for example, would be there, despite their earlier battle against House Pollux, they were still expected to show up to this event, as they had opted into it, and it was better to not waste the drill instructor's time or effort on students who would not be there.
The bell rang throughout the deck. Those who weren't already departing from the deck, began to leave, including Noah; who, without looking, slung his bag over his shoulder, and read to himself the words that he had written in his tiny notebook. Making his way with only minimal glances around him to make sure he wasn't going to walk into someone, as he left for the first class of the day.
For Redline, and the rest of House Regulus, and the picked-apart House Pollux, it was time to clean up. Pollux would pick up themselves, and use the tow-tugs to drag themselves home; and Regulus would bring their own injured Kataphrakts back towards their hangar, where the veritable army of mechanic students belonging to the house were waiting to put the machines back together.
Redline was the last one to make it back to the hangar, as much out of habit, as it was to make sure all of Pollux made it back safe; what they had in ruthlessness in combat, they matched in care for those fellow students; even beyond the fact that they had just been fighting tooth and nail, it mattered to them that their classmates got home safe. It mattered that they got home safe themselves; and so once they were sure that Pollux was well on their way back to their own hangar, they adjusted their attitude, and used the main engines of Ender to burn back towards the Regulus Hangar.
It didn't take long to get there, and then enter the pattern to enter, calling to Alpha-Sierra as they flew: "Alpha-Sierra, this is Ender, permission to dock at the Regulus hangar?"
"Ender, Alpha-Sierra; permission granted; enter final for the hangar."
"Final for the hangar, Ender." They responded, and did a swooping turn straight into the hangar, entering and passing through the energy shield that kept the atmosphere on the inside of the hangar.
The inside of the hangar went deep into the rock of the Academy, in a straight line towards the core, nearly a kilometer of structure towards the inside of the planetoid, until Redline came towards Ender's docking harness. Here, the gravity was changed just slightly using Aldnoah technology, to give the hangars zero-G, while the rest of the school, while being set in a spinning asteroid, was able to maintain a comfy 75% of Earth's gravity. Meaning that the Martian students didn't have to adapt that much to the stronger gravity, and the Terran students didn't have to think that hard about the lessened gravity. Redline ran the final checklists to shut down Ender, and then had Ender pop the seal on the cockpit, the lower pressure on the inside of the cockpit giving a kind of sucking sound as canopy open, and the panoramic screens shut themselves down, and folded themselves away from Redline's view. They undid their harness, and floated away from their seat in the cockpit, towards the open canopy. Taking a hold, and swinging around to one of the walkways that swung itself out from the side of the room, as Redline's mechanic team and crew chief started their inspection of Ender.
Redline's boots made contact with the walkway with a click, the sound of the magnetics in their boot attaching them firmly to the walkway, and by extension, the hangar deck as a whole. They undid the seal on their helmet, and took a small breath of the cooler hangar air as they pushed their helmet up and away from their head.
Out from Redline's helmet, flowed long locks of bright-red hair done up in a ponytail that was cleverly tucked away inside the helmet, came the slender face of a young Martian woman. Her eyes were darkened from lack of sleep, but alert as the flow-state of combat drained itself from her mind, and she looked around the hangar deck, sizing up the damages that House Regulus took in the battle with Pollux.
"Oi! Redline!" A voice shouted at her, it was a familiar voice, but wasn't pleasant in its tones or how it called her callsign. The voice of the Leader of House Regulus; Darin "Barb" Hunter. He spoke with a Terran accent that she had never learned the origins of, but knew that it was regional — none of the other Terrans in Regulus spoke with that accent. She turned in the direction of the voice, and saw Darin floating across the hangar, towards her. He grabbed onto the handrail of the walkway, and swung his boots down against the walkway, securing himself before he spoke again. "What the hell was that Red?!" He used the shorthand of her callsign, something that was equally as familiar to her, and had been given at the same time as the rest of her callsign, when she'd been assigned to be a pilot for House Regulus. All pilots had callsigns, and hers was quite easy to assign.
"I engaged the enemy, and took down at least a few enemies today, sir." Redline spoke in her own kind of accent; one that was more familiar to that of the aristocracy of Vers, rather than the lower classes. She used 'sir', even though there was no need to; they weren't a proper army, but she knew a superior deserved respect, so she gave it.
"No, that's not what I mean, and you bloody well know it." He was standoffish, but generally a laid back commander, as far as commanders went. Redline had only seen Darin get upset a few times; and this was one of those times. "What the hell I mean, is showing up nearly four bloody minutes late to combat, engaging without orders, and then being the last one to drag your sorry hide back home."
Redline stiffened up at this. Her helmet under her arm, and her other arm at her side, at what would be a near perfect attention if she were military. "Sir. I apologize. I overslept."
"How the hell did you sleep through the combat alarm?"
She resists the urge to shrug.
"This is the third time you've pulled this shit Redline. You're a hell of a pilot, but you've got some sloppy habits."
She wasn't sure whether to thank him for the compliment, or leave it be. So she kept her mouth shut.
"If this were proper military, I'd have you cleaning toilets or some shit to make up for it, so you learn your lesson. But this isn't the bloody military, so I'll let it slide — but if you keep oversleeping, and you cause us to lose out on a battle. I'll have you iced, got it?"
Redline knew that this was posturing, that this was a play that her Commander and House Leader was doing to keep combat discipline, while also doing his best to instill regular discipline in his housemates. But there was still something that itched at the back of her brain. She knew that she wasn't the only one who had shown up on occasion, late to battle. But why single her out for it now? There was no need to, especially given her performance that all but made up for her tardiness. It made her brain twitch. She also knew that there was no way for a House Leader alone to get someone kicked out of the Academy, much less for something as minor as tardiness.
"Sir." She responded in acknowledgement.
"Analise," he started, this time quieter, his tone hushed as he used her first name, rather than her callsign. A touch of the personal, rather than the commanding tone he otherwise had. Meaning that the previous tone he had taken with her was something to show his command and discipline, not because he wanted to take that tone with her. "I know you don't want to be here. But you've got to show initiative if you want to make something of being here. That means showing up on time when we've got battles."
"I understand, sir." She responded. She didn't let her face show any emotion at this.
Darin gave her a look, one that she interpreted as inscrutable, before he kicked off from the deck, and flew back across the hangar, towards where she knew his own Kataphrakt was harnessed into the hangar. She watched him go, adjusting how she stood until he was certain to not turn back around to reprimand her about something else. She was pissed, but she had nothing that she could do about it. There was no outlet for the emotions that she was feeling at all. So she did what she had practiced, taking a deep breath, and relaxed her back, and closed her eyes for a moment, ignoring the noise of the hangar deck, and letting her emotions come back into check. Something that she had learned from her father, back on Mars. There were many things that she had learned from her father, but few that she relied on. This was one of them.
She opened her eyes again, and filled her ears with the hangar deck, and then moved towards the locker room, moving away from the things that were irritating her, and towards something that she could control; the temperature of the shower water, how she took the hair-tie out from her hair, how much shampoo to use in her hair, how much conditioner. Things like that, things that kept her emotions in check, and let her relax a little bit, before making her way to her second-period class. Kataphrakt Design Principles with Doctor Calen. She didn't need to think too hard about getting ready for class, just get ready for her day. And so she did.