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Chapter 9

Mina Carolina was still alive, and she had the soldiers of the Galactic Empire to thank for it.

And she wasn’t the only one to have been saved from the horrible Titans by gallant Stormtroopers.

Sitting at a table with other 104th cadets in Trost HQ’s mess hall, Mina spotted a dear friend she had last seen swallowed completely whole by a Titan. He was now strolling with slow steps into the room.

“Thomas!”

To confirm she wasn’t dreaming, Mina hopped off her seat and tackled Thomas Wagner with a hug. He waved at her when he walked in, but he wasn’t expecting this reaction, Mina’s sudden weight throwing them both to the floor.

“Yes, I’m alive, Mina,” Thomas wheezed out with a weak smile. “Thank you.”

Realizing what she just did, an embarrassed Mina pulled back, ignoring everyone’s stares as she pulled Thomas up by his arm. She wouldn’t normally be this excitable, but… Thomas was one of her first friends she had made during training. She couldn’t not rejoice in finally seeing him again with her own two eyes. To feel it, his pulse from his wrist and the heat from his flushed state. He was alive, just like her.

“It’s really good to see you, too,” Thomas added, bringing Mina’s good mood back up.

Others from Mina’s table approached. Connie whistled, looking Thomas up and down. “Damn, Thomas. Were you really caught by a Titan? You look… good…”

As Connie trailed off, Mina couldn’t stop another instinctive shudder at someone bringing up what happened to her squad. Oddly, she could walk through the memory with relative ease when thinking about it privately, yet she never failed to flinch when other people spoke on it.

Ymir didn’t care about being tactful. “You were Titan bait,” she said plainly, “according to Mina and Armin. You were still breathing inside the stomach?” Mina clutched her elbows to try stopping the shakes. Thankfully, no one noticed or called her out on her jitters. Thomas was the main attraction now, not her. “And the Imperials apparently managed to pull you out without a single scratch on you.” Ymir was right. There weren’t even any visible bandages or scarring on Thomas.

Thomas’ grin became more forced as the small crowd formed a half-circle around him. “It’s all a blur, to be honest,” he confessed. “I do know it was hot. The Imperials treated me for burns. I’m happy to remember only that much.”

When Ymir scoffed, Krista at her side was quick on the admonishing comment before flashing her signature smile at Thomas. Jean and Armin were flinging questions at him about his time with the Empire, Marco and Sasha instead asking about his own wellbeing. After Reiner complimented him on surviving the battle, he held back and paired himself with reticent Bertholdt, as Reiner usually did.

“Do you think the Empire is playing straight with us?” Jean tentatively asked. “Are they really going to give us back Wall Maria?”

“They’re going to help us take back the Wall,” Armin corrected before Thomas could answer. “They have the technology, and we have the manpower that can follow them.”

Ymir scoffed again. “What the hell is the Empire getting out of it? I don’t see how much us ‘primitives’ can contribute to some prosperous galaxy.”

“We’ve got lots of farmland!” Sasha chimed in, predictably chewing on another liberal helping of the ration bars provided by the Empire. “Ripe for the taking, right outside the Walls! Lots of wild game the Titans won’t have disturbed, too. We can trade exotic foods with the Empire!”

“The King worked out a deal with them,” Marco said optimistically. “With the goodwill the Empire has already shown, I think we can expect them to keep their word.”

Connie nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah! Between the food, the medicine, and the replacement gate, the Empire wants us to win against the Titans.” He elbowed Jean’s side and sent a pointed look at Ymir. “Come on, guys. Stormtroopers died trying to save us. Keep talking like that, you’ll end up like Mikasa, locked up in a dungeon.”

Ymir rolled her eyes. With a frown, Jean gave a light shove back at Connie. “I’m not gonna start picking fights with them or anything, but you know what they did at headquarters when we weren’t looking.”

Yes, Mina heard the same story from Armin and the rest, but it was a misunderstanding caused by a single insubordinate officer. “You know what else the Empire has done?” Mina challenged Jean. She stepped to Thomas and gripped his shoulder. He should be dead, yet here he was. “Used their medicines to heal Thomas. Living proof the Empire is actively our ally, not an enemy like the Titans. They’re our Wall-blessed saviors. Why can’t you understand that?”

Of course Thomas felt awkward being presented like this, but Jean also became self-conscious and turned away. Unsurprisingly, Ymir was not impressed, only holding back a wisecrack because Krista pulled at the taller girl’s wrist. It was only a matter of time until Ymir succumbed to the urge to start speaking her mind regardless of Krista’s attempts to temper her.

Things were almost starting to feel normal again for Mina. Thomas was alive. Ymir was rude. Sasha was eating. Jean was being stubborn…

But there was no biting remark at Jean from hothead Eren. Because Eren and Mikasa weren’t here, still imprisoned for… Eren’s unique circumstances, which Mina had a far harder time wrapping her head around than the arrival of the Empire…

Others were also missing. Samuel’s head injury was completely gone – thanks to the Empire – so he and a couple others like Daz were roped into accompanying a Garrison/MP team to other districts to give first-person testimonials about Trost’s saviors. The last Mina had checked, Hanna and a bed-ridden Franz were still smooching in the infirmary. It was actually really sweet how upbeat they’ve been acting, even with Franz’s horrible wounds.

Some weren’t so lucky. Tom had been with the group who were saved by the bulk of Lieutenant Sunber’s platoon, but a Titan had still gotten to him. He had bled out before the Imperials could use their technologies to heal him…

Wait. Someone was missing who should be here.

Not Annie. She was back at their table, eating off her plate like the anti-social dunce she was. No, it was Mylius Zeremski who should be here with them.

God, his screams when he’d been grabbed in mid-air, louder than even Armin’s and Eren’s desperate cries at each other, the entire squad about to be torn apart by Titans…

Then a red blaster bolt had pierced the Titan’s nape. A trooper in a jetpack had caught Mylius before he fell to the ground. Then another trooper had carried Mina in his arms before that peering Titan with giant eyes could touch her. Those eyes had exploded in a fiery red of blaster fire and Titan blood as Mina’s rescuer shot at the monster.

The shakes were starting up again. Mina steeled herself as best she could before facing Thomas once more.

“Where is Mylius?” she asked him.

Thomas’ own small fidgeting faded as he beamed brightly. “He’s right outside! He and the others are supposed to wait until some other officers get here, but guys, you need to see him. He hasn’t really taken to the Imperial rations, so I came in here to get him some fresh food, since he…” Thomas caught himself and leaned forward, lowering his voice. “I heard about Franz. Lost an arm and a leg, right? Well, for Mylius, the Empire–”

This time it was Reiner interrupting. “Please don’t say they regrew Mylius’ limbs,” he said. “Those bacta patches can’t possibly regenerate bones.”

Bacta was the miracle substance somehow embedded in the Imperials’ bandages or stored as fluids to apply on raw skin. Mina’s share of bruises had healed quickly thanks to a generous dose of bacta. Who’s to say the Empire didn’t have more incredible applications for their amazing tools? Certainly not Reiner. He’s as ignorant as all of them about the Empire, and worse off because of his skepticism.

“Not regenerate,” Thomas said. “I heard about the Empire having a limited amount of resources, so prosthetics must be a pretty common thing for them to give something so advanced to Mylius, who’s only a random soldier to them. It’s advanced by our standards, I mean. Still, that means Franz and so many more should be getting prosthetics, too. Especially after the Imperial doctors confirmed that we’re human like them.”

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“Prosthetics,” Jean repeated. “That mean Mylius has a metal hand?”

“Not a hand. Metal legs. Two legs, at that.”

Sasha coughed to hide a burp. “Metal legs? Like the Walker things in the safe zone outside the exit gate people have been talking about? I heard them being compared to chicken legs.”

Their group was nudging closer against each other as everyone instinctively tried to match Thomas’ quieter volume. Connie slightly shoved Sasha to let his own thoughts be heard. “Wait, if Mylius has two new legs… is there enough of his real legs left for him to balance himself and still move?”

Thomas’s smile showed teeth now. “You need to see him for yourself. I just need–”

Before more could be said, a commanding voice shut down any further chatter.

“Lunch time’s over, maggots! Fall in!”

Three years living under Commandant Shadis’ reign of terror trumped all other sensibilities for every single cadet in the room. The noise of side conversations and utensils hitting bowls halted immediately, giving way to the cadets scrambling along wooden flooring to stand together in formation. Mina, Thomas, and their friends were no exception, lining up with a perfect view of Shadis and his dark eyes standing at the mess hall’s main entrance. Other higher-ups in uniform accompanied him.

“Congratulations,” Shadis said in the tone Mina had learned was a neutral filter, lacking the same harshness or back-handed compliments he usually gave, though his harsh leer was no less intimidating. He usually talked like this when the Royal Assembly or an officer higher on the chain of command than Shadis sent down a new order he wasn’t happy with. “You survived your first battle by the skin of your teeth, and gave the Titans a black eye they won’t be healing from…”

No one said anything to contradict Shadis, but Mina was sure she wasn’t the only one thinking the truth: they only survived because of the Empire.

Maybe that was the reason behind the neutral tone. Old-fashioned Shadis didn’t like the Empire’s jetpacks and gunship lasers making the Military’s ODM gear and Wall cannons moot.

“... but the fight isn’t over. Far from it, for you, your comrades still licking their wounds, and for our new allies his Royal Highness has welcomed into the Walls.”

Staying in sight, Shadis and his men moved to allow Imperial officers wearing mixes of black and gray to enter. They stood side-by-side. Mina felt an undeniable satisfaction at seeing this. No more arguments like she had during the battle with Garrison officers about working with the Stormtroopers. They were united now.

One of the Imperials distinctly stood out from the rest.

“I am Chief Officer Zogor Strom,” said the young but weathered-looking man, maybe a little older than Lieutenant Sunber, “of COMPNOR. You may call me Chief Strom.”

He looked like an Oriental. Not a male version of Mikasa, and their skin tones were different, but if Mina didn’t know he came from outer space, she would have sooner assumed this man to be Mikasa’s brother rather than Eren.

From his attitude, he was a professional. Less friendly than Sunber, but less hostile than Sheckil. A level-head that must’ve done his part to make stubborn mules like Rico Brzenska or Jean realize how much the Empire can do to help the Walls.

“COMPNOR in our language,” said Strom, “is the shorthand for the ‘Commission for Preservation of the New Order.’ The New Order refers to the values and practices that were necessary for the Empire to establish a firm foundation and maintain galactic stability after a millennia of rampant political corruption and costly cultural degradation. You lack the proper context to know the full extent of what the Empire has achieved. As a client state to the Empire, Kyojin must be educated in these values if its people are to ascend as the hundreds of billions have under Imperial rule. Foremost in your planet’s education will be our shared galaxy’s history and understanding the necessity of a strong military.”

Mina imagined herself in an Imperial uniform. She doubted there was one small enough to adequately fit her, given the general height and size of most Imperials she’s seen, but the thought excited her. All those endless days and nights training hadn’t been enough to survive Trost. More training, an education from the Empire that gave the Walls the true heroes of Trost, was the best possible reward anyone could’ve asked for.

She saw it in her head: wearing properly fitted Stormtrooper armor, her sight enhanced by the super-powered helmet, truly flying through the air instead of relying on jettisoning hooks at awkward angles and a far more limited gas supply…

“Do not mistake an emphasis on martial strength as redundant,” Strom stressed after a subtle once-over of his teenage audience. “Imperial technologies you view as advanced were created because of the constant warfare that plagued galactic society until the Empire came into power. It’s not dissimilar to the way you developed your ODM gear to combat the Titans. I expect you cadets and your senior soldiers to find it easy to absorb the New Order. The alternative…”

Strom gestured behind him.

“... is the door.”

An initial wave of confusion spread between the cadets before Shadis spoke up. “It’s in accordance with a new decree made by his Royal Highness: every cadet slated for graduation this year has been reassigned to serve in Joint Task Force Xamaural, working with the Imperials, the Scouts, and the Garrison in a cooperative effort to retake Wall Maria.”

Xamaural? A strange name. An Imperial name. Mina was happy to be a part of it.

“The civilian population will receive their education in due time,” Strom explained, “but the Cadet Corps will be trained as members of CompForce, the official military arm of COMPNOR.”

Shadis’ glare intensified for a split-second. Mina almost didn’t catch it. “Every cadet in the top ten of their respective unit is not exempt from this. If you were dreaming about the Military Police, forget it. The King doesn’t want you. He wants his Titan fodder to put in the work making all three Walls whole again.”

Unease replaced the cadets’ confusion. Mina understood it even if she didn’t share the feeling. The likes of Annie, Sasha, and Jean in the top ten had been aiming for the Military Police to avoid fighting Titans altogether. Eren had convinced a couple people to join the Scouts, but the cadets by and large were committed to the Garrison before the Colossal Titan’s return. Realistically, the Garrison dealt more with police matters in the outer districts instead of Titan combat, notwithstanding the extra training put into creating Elites or the collaborations with the Scouts in Titan territory.

The Empire changed things, obviously. Mina knew where she stood. Everyone else was still catching up. They were relieved to be able to see another tomorrow, but the choice on where to go the next day, when they stopped being cadets and started being real soldiers, was being taken away from them.

“His Royal Highness is nothing if not dedicated to his people,” Chief Strom said evenly. “By the same virtue, your king is not so cruel as to completely dismiss the desires of his loyal subjects who have bled to preserve the Walls from the Titan terror. If any of you seek a different path after having your first taste of battle here at Trost, then you must leave, return to civilian life. Now. Remain where you stand, and you will stay as CompForce Cadets until JTF Xamaural succeeds in its mission to take the entire island. Prestige and reward await you all for your service.”

In the corner of her eye, Mina saw anxiety leak out in unhidden frowns and instinctive twitches from her peers. She was disappointed people weren’t as committed as they should be after these recent days working with the Imperials. In her experience, there were plenty more cordial Sunbers and diplomatic Stroms than abrasive Sheckils.

How many people would still be bedridden if not for Imperial medicine? How many had been complaining about unfulfilling rations before the Empire filled their stomachs? How many wouldn’t even be breathing?

Soaring high with the Scouts in liberating Shiganshina and wiping out the Ttians was Eren’s dream, which he had made very clear multiple times. For Mina, she’d mostly just gone through the motions in her military training, more so wanting the ability to defend herself if push came to shove rather than out of any tangible ambitions. Eren’s last anti-Titan pep talk had pushed Thomas, Connie, and even Mina toward the Scouts to make their training mean something.

But now?

Being educated in the ways of the Imperials, getting to fight with them as equals with their Juggernauts and rocket launchers, was an honor to Mina even higher than – than what protecting Eren meant to Mikasa, or what serving the King meant to Marco. Under the Empire, there was a very real future, a better world, to fight for. A world that went beyond the Walls, where Sasha can have her fields of crops and endless hunting grounds. Where Armin can freely sate his innate curiosity by exploring the stars in Imperial flying carriages. Where Thomas can achieve his secret dream of becoming a respected Squad Leader, and where Mina can… can…

The officers moved again, making a clear path for more soldiers and cadets to enter the mess hall.

Leading the newcomers was Mylius, walking with metal legs.

Mina hadn’t pictured it in her head when Thomas mentioned them. Seeing the legs now – Strange didn’t do it justice. Thinking back to the drawings in the medical classes every cadet attended, the legs almost resembled human bones without the layers of muscle or skin. Black cords intersected sleek metals where there should have been the yellowish white limbs of a skeleton. Lights from the visible interior of the legs between the cords were blinking. Bandages covered the points where… where the metal was supposed to connect with the stumps of what remained of his actual legs, the sash on his cadet uniform hanging from his waist.

As he walked, Mylius gritted his teeth, like he did back on the first day of everyone testing their aptitude on ODM gear. While not top ten material, he had adapted faster than the majority to flying with the gear on practice courses. Mina was reliving those memories in the current moment, watching an entire line of people follow in Mylius’ wake. They also had metal legs, or metal feet, hands, arms – one even had metal around the side of his head with a glass orb where an eye should be. Each person limped or slumped their back, Mylius’ gait mostly steady in comparison.

When their eyes met, Mylius shot Mina a confident grin. He was even happier than she was to be alive and literally kicking.

Chief Strom went on with his speech, but the message was clear: members of the military, even lowly cadets, were to get preferential treatment for all the benefits Imperial tech can bring. Mylius and other ‘lucky’ soldiers mutilated in the battle were early recipients of the Empire’s generosity – generosity that wouldn’t be granted as readily to anyone who walked out the door today.

Whatever cynical jab or paranoid rumor about the Empire Mina might hear next, all of it will be nothing but white noise. From this moment on, she was going to serve as a soldier of CompForce and become a Stormtrooper. If she dies trying, then she won’t have died a useless death against the Titans. She’ll have given up her life so that her friends and family could live under a strong, thriving Kyojin gifted to them by the Empire.

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