I sit inside the doughnut shop for a while enjoying my stiff cup of coffee and a large box of glazed doughnuts. I'm surprised at how empty the store is considering how good and fresh these doughnuts are. I check the time and see it's a few minutes before ten so it's not like it's early morning or something. As I have learned through the Imperials tend to work on noon to five schedules on the best of days. I really don't know how they got anything done, but I guess some of them work like a normal human. Maybe it's just nobility who have this odd workday?

As I slowly become more full and the news on my handheld being only about celebrities I don't know I feel as if it is almost time to leave when I get a call from Kassandra. Somehow my ringtone for her is Bitch by Meredeth Brooks. I didn't change it to that so either Kassandra did so while I was unconscious last, or maybe it just read my mind or something. I answer it with a casual,

"Wassup?"

There is no answer for a bit but I can hear her talking to someone else in the room. Eventually, she answers back,

"Oh, Mike! Hello. I have some wonderful news and I'm sure you'll love it!"

I hesitate before asking,

"Well... is this from your point of view or mine? Because I think you think I like having my flesh torn open and my brain poked around in."

She laughs and replies,

"No-No... That's not it this time. This is actually good to find."

I sigh saying,

"Since you're not telling me outright... What is it you have found for me, Kassandra?"

I hear papers being moved and something glass falling to the ground and a small string of profanity from Kassandra before she finally replies,

"Alright, we were doing some asset collection, and we found some water-tight lockers in the wreck of the USS Donald Trump. Well, we found the lockers of all the AMS pilots that served on that doomed carrier. We found the lockers of yourself, and all of your strike team. We have quite a bit of personal belongings and I was wondering if you wanted to take a look at them or collect them?"

I sit there stunned for a moment and ask,

"When can I come over to get them?"

I hear some more papers turn and she replies,

"Tomorrow we will send a flyer. I'm busy snooping today."

I grit my teeth and say,

"Don't you dare go through mine..."

She laughs mischievously and says,

"Too late, that was the first one. Oh well. Bye-bye!"

As she hangs up I don't have time to give a response. I put my handheld back in my pocket and stuff another doughnut into my mouth, frustrated yet very happy that I can get some of my stuff. I stay seated thinking about what I may have left in the locker. I only vaugely remember the ship going down, all I know for sure is that I wasn't on it when it got hit.

While sitting there staring into the void a male voice snaps me back to reality,

"Do you mind if we join you?"

I shake my head and look at the source. It's the seinor Ruben Lyons if I remember correctly, and with him are a few other imperials who look to eithe be seinors as well or are just some underclassmen followers. I simply nod and reply,

"Sure, come on and sit down if you feel like it."

He nods acceptingly and him and his group sit in the chairs at the table with me. The youngest looking of the group pulls one up at the head. I ask them all,

"So how are all of you doing?"

I recive a bunch of "fines" and "pretty goods" from the group. The youngest spends this time running around the shop grabbing the orders for the older looking ones around the table. I comment with a smile,

"Whats with the hazing?"

Ruben gives a sharp exhale and replies,

"Oh yeah, he's a freshman wanting to join my team, and also he is my direct squire on top of that. He's just dealing with his turn right now. He's almost done with the freshman hazing part, as for his study under me? He has a long way to go."

I nod along humored by how some things never change. Ruben then says,

"So you are moving up in the world, honestly now its hard for me to feel any hurt to my pride after my loss to you any more. Head of a knightly order, right to noble status skipping knighthood, and being born on earth to what is assumed a normal family. I'm not gonna lie. I am thouroughly impressed, like extremely impressed. I thought I was going to be the youngest noble ever. You are very suprising."

I laugh and thank him and reply,

"Yeah, I kinda have no fucking clue whats going on half the time. I just roll with the punches and here I am."

This makes the whole table laugh and Ruben asks,

"Seriously? You aren't some amazing mastermind?"

I shake my head and say,

"It seems the more I try to stay out of imperial affairs and keep my head down, the more trouble seems to come my way."

This makes the table laugh again and once calmed down Ruben asks me,

"So... I do wonder, are you going to join any teams here at the academy? Maybe you can start your own, but if not I may be able to find you a spot if you wanted."

I shake my head and say hesitantly,

"Please don't think me stupid, but I haven't the slightest clue what teams are here. I thought everything was built around individualism and whatnot?"

Ruben stares at me a bit dumbfounded and replies,

"Well... I guess I better explain it to you then.

Here at the academy, there aren't any fraternities or sororities for some reason.

As you know cliques and clubs are going to form no matter how a place is organized. Teams started when team-based fights became part of AMS combat people found groups they liked and happened to work well together with. Eventually, teams became permanent and have a whole department in the administration of the college. Mostly because hooligans used teams as justification to act improperly. So in short, teams are school-sanctioned clubs that have a whole series of paperwork and rules dedicated to them.

My team is called the Flaming Swords, I am sure you understand where the name came from.

Teams are also important for ranking among the populace of the academy. Most importantly is the competition between AMS academies. Every time there is a tournament between schools or just trying to make a point between schools, there is a small tournament held here to see which team gets to represent the academy. Only the best get to go compete in these big official tournaments. The best teams on campus get all kinds of rewards especially if you bring victory to the academy.

My team here has gone to these competitions four times, the second-most of any team in the history of the college. We have won twice. That's pretty good. Right now I think the underclassmen tournaments need to happen first before any team competitions are gonna be held.

A lot of teams need to fill holes in their ranks from graduating seniors. "

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I nod along and then ask,

"What's the limit on numbers per team?"

He thinks for a second and then answers,

"I think it's a max of seven. The largest team battles are five-man groups. So a group of starters and two backups. My team is at six including my squire here."

I nod and I then say,

"And I assume you want me at seven?"

He laughs and shakes his head,

"Well, sorta. If you want to I'll let ya in and would be very happy, problem is... you don't use a flaming sword... or any sword at all."

I laugh and say,

"Well sorry to disappoint but I really don't really want to learn the sword."

He nods and says,

"Of course... Hope my explanation helped"

I nod smiling and reply,

"Yeah, honestly did, thank you. I hate to take much more of y'alls time but I'm headed out."

He nods and I say my goodbyes to all the others and leave the store after throwing away my trash.

I step outside and feel the ocean breeze wash over me. Despite being late January the temperature is a comfortable fifty degrees. I stretch myself out and decided to go for a walk. The sky is overcast but I don't mind. It's a light gray color so I make the assumption that it won't rain anytime soon.

I remember that the academy tournaments are gonna be picked back up soon so I decide to head over to the stadium to see its construction progress.

I round a corner and to my surprise, the stadium looks nearly perfect. In fact, it looks better than it did before. I guess the insurance payout was good. Who knew there was coverage for terrorist attacks. The stadium was already quite modern in design. Now it looks futuristic. The walls are slick with mind-boggling overhangs that seem to defy gravity itself. Entire columns that work as lights that change color in smooth patterns. I take a walk around taking in the nice work when I hear odd sounds coming from the inside. It sounds like metal clashing mixed with other loud noises. I notice the doors are open so I step inside just in case it's something bad going on.

The interior is just as well made as the outside but with even more refinement and technical skill. I manage to climb the stairs to a seating area and take a look into the arena in the center. There in the center are two AMS fighting one another while a person stands at the edge of the arena in the spectator zone shouting commands at the two combatants.

I walk close to get a better look as the two fighters are really going at it with the huge swords their AMS wield. The speed and power of each strike cause the ground below my feet to tremble as I get closer. The fight looks almost as if it were from some nineties mecha anime with their bright colors and absurd speed.

I stand near the railing and watch intently enjoying the show. Now I really see the appeal of these gladiatorial fights, especially if death is rare in most cases. It's just something enjoyable, big robots going at one another. Probably some primal human urge to watch things beat the hell out of one another. I still hold my opinion that I don't wanna be a gladiator, but watching this really cool fight I see nothing wrong with this as a sport. No different than MMA except an AMS is many times more expensive than a prizefighter. Death is still a potential outcome in both, but there are rules and other things in place to avoid this outcome. Except in my case where a terrorist attack happened. Although that I hope was an extreme outlier.

The two AMS clash again and a wall of sparks come flying in my direction. I don't move relying on the big shield that protects the spectators to do its work. The sparks and some other white-hot shrapnel miss me by a margin of inches. As it turns out the shield is not currently active. I let out a ,

"Huh...."

Then I drop to the ground with a startled shout. A bit delayed, but nothing bad came of it. I calm myself quickly laughing at my own stupidity when a female voice shouts over at me,

"Hey, idiot! Trying to get yourself killed?"

I look over and see the lady who was coaching the two fighters storm over to me while the battle continued, although less intense than before. I right myself and shake my head before replying,

"Well... Maybe, I don't know. I thought the shield was up. Turns out I was wrong. Sorry for worrying you."

She gets close and I recognize her quickly, its the top combatant, with new legs. I give her a wide smile and say to her,

"Ah, I see you got yourself some new legs. How are they holding up?"

This causes her to stop in her tracks and give a light chuckle before saying,

"Holy shit, I should've known it was you. Still stupid and suicidal."

I laugh and approach her and ask,

"Yeah, anyways wanna compare hardware?"

She smiles and rolls up her pant leg revealing two incredibly artistic metal legs. They are made out of some sort of shimmering silver metal and seem to be lovingly engraved as well. I let out a long whistle and roll up my pant leg to show the dull steel case that surrounds the synthetic muscle of my leg. I say to her,

"Absolutely beautiful. I wish mine were as good looking, but I get that function over fashion build."

The laughs dropping her pant leg and says,

"Sucks to be you, these were made by the Hussain foundation as well. I at least assume your sponsor made your legs?"

I nod and say a bit frustrated,

"I better ask them during my next checkup to get something... more aesthetically pleasing. Anyways, how heavy are yours?"

He shifts her weight quickly and says,

"They're made mostly of some fancy alloy so they weigh just a little over what my real legs would. Nothing to crazy. I assume yours are heavy?"

I nod and say,

"Steel... not any fancy alloy, just straight hardened steel of some kind. sixty extra pounds or so to my fat ass. Makes running a chore."

She laughs and replies,

"Damn that sucks. Well, what brings you out here at this time?"

I shake my head and say,

"I heard strange noises and being me with my history of last time at the stadium I thought I'd come and just make a quick little check."

She nods and replies,

"Makes sense, I'm out here having some of my younger team members train a little in live combat. Just taking off any rust before the next tournament."

I nod along and say,

"Well sorry for intruding. Fight ya later."

I start walking off and she gives a similar goodbye and I leave the stadium for elsewhere.

I manage to wander back to my dorm and decide today is just a lazy day. I take my tablet and decide to just read a few free books I found in the online library. Eventually, it gets late and I go get some food from a burger joint before just going right to bed. I'm almost like a kid on Christmas, excited for what things I'll get from Kassandra.

Sleep eventually comes and with it a new day. When I wake up I go for a morning workout before anyone else is awake, Seraphina and Genevieve do not show up so I just workout without them before getting my usual American breakfast. Afterward, I get a call from an unknown number. I answer the phone and it is from the pilot Kassandra sent to get me. I find the flyer at the landing pads and board it. It's quite luxurious, most likely Kassandra's executive one.

The flight is quick and I spend most of it theorizing what I might find in my old locker. I hope none of my stuff is missing or damaged. Eventually, the flyer lands on the Hussain foundations roof and I disembark, Kassandra greets me happily and we head inside and out of the midwestern winter air.

I am led down corridors as Kassandra explains the situation,

"We were excavating the old wreck because there were some older AMS models and parts we wanted to collect, as well as other parts and weaponry we wanted for production purposes. I mean, we can get everything that we found there new, but why let it rust away down at the bottom of the sea?

Anyways we got lots of your personal belongings in a locker. I think you're gonna be happy."

I nod and get one of my questions out of the way,

"Hey Kassandra, I got in a fight during a training exercise and I apparently was acting odd. I was apparently stoic and kinda scarily brutal. What's with that?"

This question causes her to flinch but she does answer truthfully, I assume,

"Well... about that, well we uploaded your training and ability to react to bad situations with a cool head, which is good for combat and all kinds of things, but without context and without memory it may happen subconsciously and lead to that combat state you get into now. It's just a side effect of the lack of memory, it's almost your brain trying to figure out how you know all this stuff, but has no idea where your combat prowess and training comes from, mixed with the stress of whatever situation you were in... well your emotions kinds disappear. You simply go and get whatever it is done. It should help you perceive pain less, but I don't know.

That's all I really understand myself. I work with mechanical parts, ask Marshall about the brain stuff. I wish I could fix your head 100% but I can't allow that. I don't expect you to understand still, all I ask is that you remain patient."

I sight frustrated but thankful I at least got some kind of explanation. It sorta makes sense, but I don't understand even the most basic part of how the brain works. I just keep following hoping my old stuff can maybe fill the gaps.

Eventually, we arrive in Kassandra's office, which is a mess with paper, and metal models are thrown about everywhere. She leads me to a two-foot by ten-inch metal footlocker. A little small if I remember but I didn't have much to store anyways. The lock on it has been clearly cut off with a metal cutting torch and there is bad corrosion on the exterior, but the interior is dry.

I open it up and feel a smile creep across my face as a flood of nostalgia washes over me. I grab my old bible from the box and set it aside, it's good to have, but it is a regular bible with my name written on the inside cover, that's all. I then grab the stack of photos. Many of which are just picture printed on standard paper as film wasn't produced for like five years prior to these pictures.

The first one is of me after boot camp just before the surgeries. I was so skinny back then, same height but half the width almost. I laugh at my nearly gaunt, lanky, figure. The next is a picture of me and my initial AMS squad. I recognize the faces, but can't put names to any of them. we all look happy and all so clean, our heads all shaved as we just got done with all our surgeries. The third picture is one of my AMS and a squad of marines posing around a destroyed imperial AMS. The next picture is me with the same squad, beer bottle scattered around. Everyone looks happy, but the look in my eyes is sad. Looking closer I see a few marines are missing and a couple has either an empty sleeve or pant leg. I feel a small pain in my heart looking at this image.

The next is one of me alone with two machine guns firing into the air. The sixth picture makes me feel odd. Almost like I want to cry. It's all of my AMS squad with our AMS around us, plus an imperial one. There is someone with us I don't recognize, but I feel sad looking at it, but my eyes seem to stare right through the camera lens... and unlike everyone else, I am not smiling. The final picture is of my AMS squad just before the ship went down. I recognize a certain black man in the photo and take a pen and cross his face off. I don't believe he deserves to be remembered... not anymore.

What's left are a few articles of clothing, but I pocket the last thing, My fathers' old handgun. all I know is that it's a Bretta m9, but what year it is has been lost. I try to hide the gun in my deep pockets, but really don't care if anyone notices. I thank Kassandra for getting this for me, forgetting my original frustration with her. Then I notice on her desk a framed picture of us standing next to one another back in the day. Her smiling face, and my stoic thousand-yard stare. I shake my head at seeing it wanting that look in my eye to leave my mind. I then take the box and leave, I want to go back to my room and try to put names to faces...