A/N: Update 9/8/23 - did some tidying up on spelling.
Overcast skies had blocked out the moon by the time he saw the running lights of the military base up ahead, rendering Arthur's targeting systems to be erratic. Not that he intended to shoot his way out unless people gave him a reason to. The three gunners were on his six o'clock position, and they would have had a clear shot on his main booster if he tried anything, regardless. The other four were in front of him, with Zola's unit on the spearpoint.
Another encoded cipher came in on his screen from Kasumi, and he ran it through deciphering immediately. It seemed she was giving a cover story for him to use; one that she herself also derived from. The story would go that they were on patrol from an independent colony when geomagnetic interference from the north swept through and interfered with navigation and power. The colony in question would be Anatolia, and it consisted of both humans and Norma.
He'd have to build upon that story himself.
"You in the white machine," a stringent voice, likely the base commander, said. "You craft does not look capable of transforming and fitting into our main hangar, so you'll have to use the landing strip for the supply transports."
"Yeah, I got it," Arthur replied. "Be advised, this craft is a radiation hazard for at least a good half-hour once I switch off its defense system. Don't approach without a protective suit – I'll come to you."
"I'll hold you to that and I'll have a decontamination team ready," the stern voice said. "Proceed with your landing."
Truth was, Arthur disabled his Primal Armor on the way back, but the excuse would buy him time to properly run the shutdown and security procedures for his NEXT – as well as get his story straight.
"Incredible! That thing is even more imposing up close," Emma said, leaning forward as the white machine altered course past the observation window.
"Did you catch the radio chatter? That thing on its back is chambered for artillery shells," Hikaru commented. "And at this distance, I'd say those rifles are packing 30-millimeter rounds, at least…"
"It was flying rings around those Schooners," Pamela said. "I can see why it's called 'White Glint'."
Jill cleared her throat, snapping the bridge staff out of their personal thoughts, adding, "Get me the status report of the First Troop."
"No damage to any of their units," Pamela said. "Looks like nearly two-thirds of the DRAGONs were eliminated by White Glint".
"Magnificent machine," Olivier commented.
It's certainly something, Jill agreed. It's the pilot I'm more interested in, though.
Jill stepped on her heel, to the door. She stated, "Inspector, let's go meet our guest. Pamela, you've got the command center. Notify me the second anything comes up."
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Just this!? Are you kidding!?" Rosalie complained about her payout.
"Yeah, I expected that," Hilda said. "This 'White Glint' had swept almost everything clean. Captain may have bagged a Brig, but there was mostly a few Schooners left."
Dissatisfied, Rosalie turned to Hilda and said, "Oh, I'm gonna give that pilot a piece of my mind! If he hadn't been there…"
"Now, now, girls…don't be so down," the sultry voice of their captain said, followed by her arms around each of them. "We didn't even have any repair costs on this one. That's one less expense – I'd say he earned it. And besides…"
Zola licked her lips in a way that made Hilda and Rosalie blush, saying, "That man will have to make it up to us some way or another. Right?"
"Y-yeah," Hilda stuttered out, her cheeks going almost as red as her hair.
"I-I agree with the captain," Rosalie said, her face equally flushed.
"Did you see all that damage? He must have been fighting for days," one of the pinkettes – Ersha – commented.
"Quiz time! Who is the mystery man?" the chirpy Vivian asked.
"That's what we plan to find out," Zola said. "Salia's already gone ahead to find out. Who knows? She may have already sparked something."
"Salia? Hooking up?" Chris asked. "I just don't see it."
Salia had, in fact, set foot near the landing pad, which was lit up with spotlights trained right on the white machine. It was a few meters taller than a para-mail, and if seeing it firsthand was any indication, it was considerably faster than one, too. She was tempted to set foot closer, but then remembered that a radiation hazard was present.
"I see you haven't started flirting, yet," a familiar voice said, drawing Salia's attention. There, with her arms around a few of her favorite girls, was Zola.
"Captain…" Salia trailed disapprovingly.
Zola let out a low whistle as she looked at the machine, saying, "Wonder what kind of a man would have the guts to pilot something like that machine?"
"White Glint…" Salia trailed.
"I like it…catchy," Zola said, before raising a brow as a hatch opened and a figure lowered down on a lift line. "Ah, the man of the hour."
He had a device in his hand that he waved around the machine, then – seemingly satisfied with something – took off his helmet as he approached, an electronic tablet in his other hand.
"Now that's a looker," Zola said.
Salia found herself agreeing with Zola – an unusual occurrence. The man was a few inches taller than Zola, with sandy hair and gray eyes. There was a light scar across the bridge of his nose, and it all came together to give the impression that he was a no-nonsense type of man – the professional who is married to his job.
His eyes widened as he approached, and he quickly averted his gaze away. His face flushed a beet red.
"Umm, excuse me, but are you alright? You seem a bit flustered," Ersha said.
"I'm fine, it's just…" he started, just letting his sentence trail off.
"What's your problem?" Hilda snapped.
"Christ. How blunt do you want me to be?"
"Just say what's on your mind," Rosalie added.
"Your flight suits. They're revealing," he stated bluntly.
Immediately, Salia, Hilda, and Zola all realized the issue, and the former two blushed profusely and began crossing their arms in front of their chests to avoid giving the man any more of a view.
"What's with you two?" Chris asked.
"He just told us we're giving him a full view of our bodies," Salia said. "So, cover up!"
"We dress like this all the time, though," Rosalie said, confused.
"Not in front of a man," Hilda clarified, glaring at the man. "Look at him; one look at us, and he could be like a dog in heat!"
"I resent that! I'm a professional soldier, not a hormone-addled schoolboy!" the man snapped back, clearly irritated by the situation.
Zola, on the other hand, took the opportunity to tease the man further, stepping closer to him, her large bust in his plain view.
"Aw, you sure you don't want to do more than look?" Zola teased.
"If you're trying to tempt me into bed, you're instead tempting me to shove my boot up your ass. Fortunately for you, I have standards!"
"Not even ten minutes, and you already have an admirer, kid," a voice spoke with seniority.
Salia's mind was taken off her state of dress to look to where the voice came from; a woman in her mid to late Thirties, her brown parted hair held up by a hair clip. Salia hadn't interacted with Kasumi in any meaningful way; she had been little more than another member of the command center's staff all the way to this point.
Almost immediately, the man's demeanor shifted as he pushed his way past Zola. Kasumi extended her hand to him.
"Glad to see you again, kid," she said, and the man reciprocated the handshake.
"Glad to see you, too, Teach," he said.
"He called her 'Teach'," Vivian chirped. "Quiz time! How do these two know each other?"
"She was my teacher when I first started piloting my partner over there. She's over half the reason I turned out as good of a pilot I am," the man said, pointing to White Glint.
"Don't sell yourself short, kid," Kasumi said.
The man cleared his throat, clearly trying to refocus his train of thought.
"Anyway. Are you the pilots that showed up back there?" he asked, his voice a smooth baritone.
"Aww, you're not being fun," Zola said with a shrug. "But yes."
"I suppose that makes you Zola," the man concluded.
"Right you are!"
"You know…making a pass at a man you've just met is an awfully impulsive move…dangerously so," the man said.
"Yeah, I suppose when I see something I want, I go right for it," Zola said, a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Why don't you be a proper lady and introduce me to the rest of your team?" the man said.
"As you've already worked out, I'm Zola, captain of the First Troop. Salia is my lieutenant," Zola said, gesturing to her. "I believe you gave her the heads-up over that flanking attempt."
"Ah, yes. The sniper," the man said. "And I assume Cherry over there flies the red one?
"Cherry? Hilda, he called you 'Cherry'," Zola said with an amused smile.
"Call me that again," Hilda challenged. "I dare you!"
"So, it's Hilda – nice to place a face to the name," the man said.
"You've seen our gunners, Chris, Rosalie, and Ersha," Zola said.
"Chris, Ersha, and…pff, I'm just going to call Rosalie 'Red' from here on," the man said.
"What!?" Rosalie exclaimed with irritation.
"So, I'm that makes the kid over there Vivian?"
"Handsome and clever? What a nice combo," Zola said.
"Hey, I got a bone to pick with you! I lost out on a lot of money because of your showboating!" Rosalie complained.
"Enough!" a stern voice, one that Salia recognized as Jill's, called out. "Stand down."
Jill stepped in, along with Inspector General Bronson, to deescalate the situation before things got out of hand. Zola did get the last laugh with a swat on the man's rear, earning a glare from him.
"I see Zola decided to get…acquainted with you," Jill said to the newcomer. "I'm Jill, commander of this base. This is Inspector General Emma Bronson."
"Glad to meet someone with manners around here," the man quipped.
"I'll ask that you hold the witticism," Jill said. "We caught the action on feed. I appreciate the help you gave, but that doesn't mean you're free to go. As you can imagine, we have a lot of questions for you."
"Yeah, I figured," the man sighed. "I have a condition, though: no one touches my NEXT without my say-so. Its generator is rigged to overload if someone tries to open it without the proper codes, and the radiation release could blanket half this island."
"Fair enough," Jill said. "We'll continue our questioning in my office. The rest of you are free to perform your post-mission duties. Dismissed."
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Hey, about the Schooners that were flanking me," Salia started. "Thanks. I mean it, mister…"
"Arthur," the man answered. "Arthur Bradshaw."
"I owe you."
"No, you don't. Normally, I'd charge for help, but your squad came to back me up already, so we're even," the man, now known to the team as Arthur, said.
"Whenever you get done," Zola started, practically breathing down Arthur's back. "Come and see me. I'm more than willing to give you a blast of a welcome."
"Enough, Zola!" Jill warned. Zola pulled back, snapping a salute.
"Yes, Commander. Everyone, report to the squad room."
Salia was mortified by her appearance. She'd been in and out of her flight suit so often that she no longer noticed it, but now that a man had set foot on Arzenal, she realized just how revealing it actually is.
"So, that's a man," Rosalie commented. "He rubs me the wrong way, but I'll admit he's not bad to look at."
"He's totally awesome!" Vivian squealed. "You see that super para-mail of his? I bet he could face down an entire army of DRAGONs without breaking a sweat!"
"Hmph. And hog all the reward in the meantime," Hilda said, somewhat bitter. "If he stays, you can kiss any future reward goodbye."
"Rules are rules," Zola said. "Besides, we managed to bag one Brig and several Schooners, and come back without any damage, so the mission wasn't a total wash. Besides, Hilda, something tells me you're not really that upset about the reward money."
Hilda flushed, her face almost the same shade as her hair. "He called me 'Cherry'," she trailed.
Rosalie actually snickered slightly, saying, "Look at your hair in the mirror next time, and then tell him he's wrong."
"Y-you don't think he'll actually make a pass at any of us, do you?" Chris asked.
"Come on, girls. Would that really be so bad?" Zola questioned.
"You know," Ersha started, looking herself over. "I don't claim to know how a man's mind works, but I can kind of see how our flight suits would bother him, especially since he's probably never seen suits like them before. And he was at least polite enough to look away."
With Commander Jill leading the way and the Inspector General following, Arthur instinctively scanned his surroundings. Based on the clusters of piping in the halls they passed through, the lower levels were likely home to utilities and maintenance. Getting anywhere unnoticed was going to be a real pain – patrols were constant. More than a few girls had given Arthur a second look in passing – it dawned on him that he was probably the only man they'd ever seen in their lives.
Was this where the captured Norma were relocated to when removed from Mana society?
Jill had been insistent to Kasumi that she wanted to question Arthur separately from her, and she dismissed his operator and mentor. The three of them that remained took the elevator to the upper level, where they ultimately came to what was ultimately the Commander's office. Jill beckoned to a chair set before a desk as she took a seat behind it.
"So…Arthur, was it?" Jill started as she lit a cigarette. "First thing's first. I want to know where you came from."
Arthur's gaze shifted between the Commander and the Inspector General off to the side. He debated internally whether he should just tell them. No matter what way he tested it in his mind, it sounded outlandish. His initial instinct was to simply not say anything. He had spent nearly a month in this world, and he still didn't know very much about it.
"Well, let's just say where I'm from is not even on the map," Arthur started.
"Don't dance around the question," Inspector General Bronson said, adjusting her glasses. "You're trespassing in a restricted area. Even if you're unaware of this, that doesn't change the severity of the situation. There's also the matter of your machine. Why is that in civilian hands?"
"Who says I'm a civilian?" asked Arthur. "I'm from a colony in uncharted territory. We call it Anatolia. I'm part of its colonial militia."
"There's no such nation," Bronson said.
"Like I said: we're located in uncharted territory, far away from the Six Nations or any major logistics routes. We keep to ourselves, are independent, and we have full intention of maintaining that independence," Arthur said, before shooting a glare that could kill someone at Emma. "And we have an all-volunteer militia that doesn't believe in tossing girls into the meat grinder."
"Excuse me?" Emma asked as Jill raised an eyebrow.
"You heard me," Arthur said. "In Anatolia, humans and Norma work together side-by-side."
Emma's mouth dropped in shock.
"You…why…how could you…"
"Necessity. A colony can't stay alive if its people can't work together, so Norma and human alike are expected to pull their weight and work together to keep it defended and fed," Arthur said.
"Let me see if I have this right," Jill started. "You're part of a colonial body independent of the Six Nations. One that not only rejects official world policy regarding Norma, but also one where they and humans peacefully coexist. Am I following this right?"
"Tensions do flare up between humans and the Norma and need to be deescalated from time to time, but you've mostly summed it up."
"Oh, enough of this," Emma cried. "Commander, I insist he be confined to the brig. I'm going to contact the Board to have them pick him and that machine up. They'll get the truth out of him."
Arthur shrugged, saying, "You could do that. And with the damage White Glint has sustained, they might likely succeed after enough of a chase. But it may end up being more trouble than it's worth."
"What are you getting at?" Emma demanded.
"My machine is called a NEXT, and it's not the only one of its kind," Arthur explained. "They're like next-generation para-mail, with improvements across the board, and only the very best pilots are chosen for them. As of the last update roster, there are forty-two other pilots out of Anatolia. I and my operator got here after that lightshow up north caused havoc with our navigation systems, and we're already late in reporting in. And like I said, Anatolia highly values its independence – carting both one of its pilots and their NEXT would send a political message that would be tantamount to a declaration of war."
"Hmm. He makes a valid point," Jill said. "And if these other pilots are anywhere near as skilled as him, the death toll from such a war would be catastrophic."
"A war…between humans?" Emma trailed, before shooting Arthur a disdainful look. "Fine. If this colony is degenerate enough to have humans and Norma coexist, who knows what other deviant behavior they'd be prone to. I still have to report the sortie, and his involvement, but for the time being, I'll recommend he be confined to Arzenal. I've got my eye on you, young man."
"Jeez. First, Zola and now you? If you wanted a date so badly, you could have asked," Arthur quipped, causing Emma to flush in embarrassment before she left the office.
"Well…" Jill trailed. "That was entertaining."
"Dry humor comes with the profession."
"There's something that still bothers me," Jill said. "You know of the Norma, but not of Arzenal. Your machine is clearly not using Mana technology, but it's far more advanced than anything we can develop. There is definitely uncharted land in the world of Mana, but nothing with resources needed to build something like that."
Jill snuffed her cigarette out in her ashtray and leaned forward.
"I don't think you're lying, but I'm certain you're not telling the full truth, either. If you were, you could have easily called for assistance without coming to us," she said.
"I had you pegged as someone able to see through the entire cover," Arthur said.
"You helped out one of my pilots – I'm grateful for that, but I get the feeling you're nowhere near as untouchable as you claim," Jill said, a hard edge behind her violet eyes that told Arthur she wasn't bluffing with her next threat. "If you don't want to wake up somewhere worse than Arzenal, I'd suggest you tell me everything."
"I can't – it's so outlandish, you'd lock me up for being crazy instead of noncompliant," Arthur said.
"I've seen my share of crazy things – try me," Jill said with a smirk, lacing her fingers together.
Arthur sighed, looking around the office, seeing a bottle of pinot noir…genuine wine.
"You may want to pour us each a glass; this could take a while to go through," Arthur suggested.
And in the minutes after, over some glasses of wine, Arthur laid out the events that led here: how he was engulfed by this odd light mid-combat, the unusual feedback he received through the AMS, and his subsequent introduction to the world. "Following my little shootout in the Misurugi Empire, I put as much ocean between me and the mainland as I could, and that brought me to you, as you're aware."
"So, you're from the other side of one of the Singularities," Jill concluded.
"I suppose so," Arthur mused.
"Well, your friend, Kasumi, gave me much the same story. I had to be sure you were the contact she was talking about," Jill said. "She's tight-lipped, but she spoke rather highly of your talents, and I see why. In any case, don't tell anyone – especially the Inspector General – about where you come from."
"Hmm. This leaves me with a predicament: I'm short of clients in this world. If you're hiring mercenaries, you can extend a job or two to me."
"I suppose I can arrange a few things for you. If you need something to do, a lot of strange occurrences have cropped up lately since the time you would have arrived; salvage teams have been finding parts and weapons that our para-mail can't use. They look like they would fit on your NEXT, though. You'll have to buy what we've found so far, but if you salvage them yourself, they're yours," Jill said with a smirk. "Make yourself at home, for now. There's an old dock under the western cliffs that should be able to accommodate your NEXT and keep it out of the elements. I'll send someone your way to help you get settled in, and to cash you out for your kill tally on that mission."
"Thanks," Arthur said as he stood up. He was about to leave when Jill interrupted with a question.
"So, is it really true that humans and Norma in your world exist side-by-side?"
"Hmm…Well, to be completely honest," Arthur answered. "The Light of Mana does not exist in my world. If we go by that, everyone qualifies as a Norma."
Taking a fresh cigarette from her case, Jill gazed at the ceiling as she thought over what Arthur had told her. A young man from the other side of a Singularity, from a world that lacked the Light of Mana. Only one name crossed her mind, one that she regarded with hatred.
Embryo, she concluded. He has a hand in this; I know it.
Based on the story Arthur gave, he was the lone survivor of his "ORCA Brigade", along with Kasumi. No backup meant that, if Jill wanted to incorporate him into her plan, she'd have to deploy him sparingly. His NEXT alone was worth at least as much as a para-mail squadron, possibly surpassed only by a Ragna-Mail. Hamstrung as his NEXT was by combat damage and weeks without maintenance, Jill was certain that she had yet to see him go all-out.
Arthur let out a sigh of relief as he shut the office door behind him. At the very minimum, neither he nor Kasumi should have to worry about waking up in a prison cell. For now, he'd move White Glint into port and use what downtime he got to get a sense of the base's layout. Arthur caught sudden movement out of the corner of his eye, and he saw three girls looking his way out of a partially open door.
"Hello," Arthur said.
Knowing that they'd been seen, the three girls awkwardly stepped out into the hall. All three were dressed in uniforms that included blue tunics with pleated skirts and white boots with dark gray trim.
"Umm, are you the pilot of that white machine?" the green-haired one asked.
"Yeah. The name is Arthur."
"Whoa. So hot," the redhead said.
"Thanks…I think."
"Excuse them," the long-haired blonde said. "It's just…you're the first man any of us have ever seen."
"I sort of figured that out," Arthur said.
"I'm Pamela," the blonde said. "And this is Olivier and Hikaru."
"Pamela, Olivier, and Hikaru…I think I caught all of you in my camera before I landed," Arthur said. "Operations staff. Right?"
"Yes," Olivier confirmed, giving him a wary look, as did the other two.
"Is…something the matter?"
"Well…aren't you scared to be here?" Olivier asked.
"Why would I be?"
"Everyone here is a Norma," Hikaru pointed out. "Why aren't you freaking out?"
"Oh…that," Arthur said. "Look, I come from a colony that has a mix of humans and Norma living together for the sake of survival. For most of my colony, the Norma are just humans that can't use Mana. As long as they don't cause a ruckus, I'm happy to talk to them. I'd stay and chat, but I've got to move my craft from the landing pad and into the old dock. Talk later?"
"Oh, um…sure," Pamela said. As he walked off, he heard the trio whisper in excited glee.
Well, he definitely was not going to be starved for attention. He wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. At least the lower levels were relatively clear, and he even ran into Kasumi again. The two started talking, comparing notes, and catching up on lost time. Apparently, Kasumi washed ashore in her cargo VTOL after they were both engulfed in that light.
"Imagine my surprise when I intercepted your cipher," Kasumi said. "I thought you were dead for weeks."
"I thought we both were," Arthur said. "It may not have been how I expected, but I'm glad to have you back, Teach."
"Glad to be back."
"Did Ciliegio also make the jump?"
"Yes, but the jump did a number on her internal components," Kasumi said. "I was able to cannibalize para-mail parts to repair the arm actuators, but the FCS and generator were damaged beyond repair. The weapons were lost, too."
"Jill said there was salvage that could fit a NEXT that has been found recently?"
"Yes. Four things: a laser blade – DRAGONSLAYER, I think – a SULTAN plasma cannon, an INBLUE FCS, and a 04-MARVE," Kasumi confirmed.
"Huh. Most of what I started with," Arthur commented. "I get those, and I can save on ammo costs."
"You've got an uphill climb," Kasumi said. At his confused expression, she added, "Jasmine is the shopkeeper on Arzenal – the only shop on the island – and her prices are…well…extortionate."
"Monopolies…you've got to love them," Arthur quipped dryly as his NEXT came into view. Giving Kasumi a wave, Arthur hooked himself into the AMS and skipped every power-up procedure that he could safely get away with. For obvious reasons, he kept his Primal Armor inactive. Applying a careful amount of thrust to get his NEXT airborne, Arthur eased off of the landing pad into the sea.
The dock Jill mentioned was built into a cave along the tidal line that had been converted into a landing bay, and it was large enough to fit his NEXT with room to spare. Inside, two more Norma were waiting.
One looked to be about the same age as Vivian. She was dressed in orange coveralls, with her purple hair done up in twin short tails. Her eyes were all lit up as he settled White Glint into place. The other was an older woman wearing a purple dress and half-jacket, with a head scarf holding her dirty blonde hair up to complete the ensemble – the image brought to mind the Romani folk. By the woman's side was a large yellow dog with a pilot's cap and goggles.
"So, you're the pilot our girls found in that Category 3 incursion," the woman said as Arthur rode down the lift line. "Have to admit, that's a hell of a machine."
"Wasn't at its best tonight, though," Arthur said. "Three weeks without proper maintenance can put a damper on any machine's performance, and it was already damaged before all that."
Slowly, the dog came forward and Arthur extended his hand to let it have a sniff. Once it seemed comfortable, Arthur scratched around its ears, and it began to happily wag its tail.
"The name's Jasmine," the older woman said. "The mangy fleabag is Vulcan. And the kid is Mei; a child prodigy when it comes to technology. Jill told us about your situation and sent us to get you settled in."
"So, you're Jasmine," Arthur said. "I heard about you from my mentor. You run the only shop on the island."
"Guilty as charged," Jasmine said.
"Well, you can see the damage from here," Arthur said. "Warped armor plating and bullet-riddled metal with damaged actuators. I've done some tinkering in my spare time and reckon the rounds from some of the larger para-mail weapons may seat into the chambers for my rifles."
"The rounds from the Hausers' cannons should be able to fit," Mei concluded.
"As I'm sure you know, the Inspector General is not keen on letting you wander out too far until she's figured out what to do with you. Jill still has an idea that may keep you from being dragged off in chains," Jasmine started.
"I'm listening…"
"Jill did mention you were offering to do work for her. This could work out for both of us," Jasmine said. "See, you're not a Norma, so we can't force you to follow orders. But helping us with future DRAGON incursions may buy you some goodwill with the humans back on the mainland – there's a good chance they'll let you stay as long as you don't try anything. They'll be more concerned about keeping the DRAGONs from overwhelming their world than about some young man that dropped in out of nowhere."
"So, let me get this right. I'll be risking life and limb for a bunch of people who don't appreciate it, don't deserve it, and couldn't care less whether I live or die."
"That about sums it up," Jasmine laughed.
"Welcome to a mercenary's life," Arthur said with a sigh. "I'll chip in."
"Fantastic!" Mei beamed. "There's a cargo elevator I can use to bring down the ammo and any weapons you may want to mount."
"Sounds good," Arthur said. "In the meantime, I'm going to figure out where to sleep."
"Already taken care of," Jasmine said. "One more thing. Bagging as many Schooners single-handedly like you did, and landing a kill shot on a Brig earned you quite a payday. Let's go up and get you cashed out."
Jasmine wasn't kidding. According to a chart on the bank wall, each category of DRAGON had a monetary value assigned to it. Between his kill shot on the Brig and the dozens of Schooners under his belt, Arthur was sitting at around eight million – the crippled state and ammunition costs of his NEXT knocked him down to about one million, however.
"So, Norma need to pay for what they need to do their jobs with, too?"
"That's just how things work here, hon," Jasmine said. "Everything has a price. Even lives."
"Sounds exactly like mercenary work," Arthur said. "Does that mean the squad that brought me in gets nothing?"
"Not for the ones you bagged," Jasmine said. "I wouldn't worry about this one, though. Coming back from a Category 3 incursion with no fatalities and no damaged para-mail is worth losing out on the lion's share of the money."
"And what to do with the money that isn't spent on repair and rearmament?"
"I was hoping you'd ask," Jasmine said with a gleam in her eye.
She led Arthur from the hangar to what looked to be a massive warehouse. Shelves lined the entire area, stuffed to brim with everything from food to appliances, while barricades closed off specialty sections like clothes and weapons. An entire section had even been cordoned off to form an arcade, complete with game cabinets, a pool table, a ping pong table, and vending machines along a wall.
"Welcome to the Jasmine Mall," she stated proudly. "We sell everything from lingerie to artillery pieces."
"Wow," Arthur said as he looked around. "I don't suppose you have men's clothes, too?"
"Yes and no," Jasmine said. "We do have the materials to make them. Just tell me what you need, and I'll hire a few of the girls to custom sew them for you."
That solved one problem. At this time of night, there weren't a lot of shoppers at the mall. There were a few girls here and there, most of them either in orange coveralls or clad in blue uniforms – maintenance and base personnel, if he had to guess for each group. Only a few were wearing midriff-bearing white tunics with maroon-trimmed jackets along with skirts, shorts, and pants of varying styles of color – pilots out of flight gear, Arthur guessed. The bigger giveaway was that they were looking at large-scale firearms suspended on the walls – likely para-mail weaponry.
"I met the First Troop, already," Arthur said. "How many squadrons are active?"
"We have three. They rotate and deploy whenever an incursion occurs."
"How often does that happen?"
"They usually come every three or four days," Jasmine said. "We weren't expecting the next one until tomorrow, and certainly not a Category 3 incursion."
"I'm surprised anyone would want to be assigned to that," Arthur said, biting his tongue, realizing it sounded a lot better in his head.
"We don't really have much choice. Besides, being a mail-rider has the highest payout of any position on Arzenal. Being able to buy whatever you want is the only real freedom we Norma have," Jasmine pointed out. "What about your machine? What do you call that beast?"
"Well," Arthur started, "It's a NEXT – the latest generation of Armored Cores. An improvement across the board from the last generation, which we call 'Normals'. NEXTs are outfitted with specialized operating systems and cutting-edge Kojima technology allowing the use of Kojima Particles for many applications, such as Primal Armor – any object with mass going through the field at a fast enough speed gets slowed down, taking a lot of force away from the hit. A NEXT's armor and thrust capabilities exceed that of a Normal."
"Armored Core, huh?" Jasmine asked. "Are all NEXTS as powerful as yours?"
"Depends on what someone expects to get out of it. There are thirty-eight production models, with some pilots mixing and matching parts to suit their styles," Arthur said. "Believe it or not, the model I'm using is considered rather fragile for its weight class, but also one of the fastest."
"Thirty-eight models," Jasmine repeated. "Not bad. It's no wonder the DRAGONs don't bother your world if there are things like that waiting for them."
"Why do they come to this one?"
"Who knows?" Jasmine said. "For all we know, they could simply be looking for a meal from among the humans and we're the line of defense between the two of them."
"So, this is where Norma are shipped off to. Treated as expendable fodder for those DRAGONs," Arthur said.
Sayla, if you're still safe, your daughter really dodged a bullet…
"It's just the hand the world has dealt us," Jasmine said.
"Pardon the language, but it's bullshit. Don't get me wrong – I'm a mercenary, and I'm proud of it. I don't regret being a soldier of fortune," Arthur said. "But it was my choice to pilot and fight as a career. You were all dropped into it and basically told it's all you're good for. It's disgusting."
"That's sweet of you to say, kid," Jasmine said. "And who knows? Having a big, strong man around might turn out nice. It certainly looks like you're already quite popular."
Arthur followed her gaze and saw that a small crowd had gathered at one of the barricades. Girls whispered and gawked, while more than a few had lights in their eyes.
"Alright, shoo!" Jasmine called with a wave of her hand. "If you're not going to buy, then quit taking up space!"
"Hey, Arthur!" a familiar voice called out.
Arthur looked up and noticed Vivian, Salia, and Ersha heading towards him, all of them having changed out of their plug suits. Vivian skidded to a halt in front of him and Jasmine.
"Oh, hey," Arthur said. "What's going on?"
"We're glad to see you're alright," Ersha said. "We were worried you might have ended up in trouble for coming here."
"Did Commander Jill say what was going to happen?" Salia asked.
"Looks like I'm staying for the moment," Arthur said. "As long as I pull my weight with the incursions, I should at least be left alone."
"Awesome!" Vivian squeed. "I can't wait to see how much butt you can kick!"
"Is the rest of your squad here?" Arthur asked.
"No," Salia said with an annoyed look on her face. "Captain Zola took them back to her quarters for…stress relief."
"Stress relief…" Arthur trailed, with Ersha giving a nervous laugh as the realization dawned on him. "Oh…right. I get the picture."
"It's the standard here, kid," Jasmine said. For Arthur, the temperature seemed to jump up a few degrees as the mental image of Zola and those other three going at it.
"You okay?" Vivian asked.
"Ugh. Yeah," Arthur said, shaking his head. "The humidity is making this suit uncomfortable. I'm going to wash up and turn in for the night."