Four months later, Caitlyn graduated from the officer school. It’s a training program like the NCO school, but it turns NCO into officers and is a bit more elaborate. The state is always in perpetual needs for officers. Long-serving NCOs are expected to participate to fill the role. The quota varies on how many is needed at a given time. Participants are given loan by the state which is then paid by salary cut for a couple of months until the tuition is paid off. It happened to Caitlyn too when she graduated the NCO school long ago. But this time, she had accumulated more than enough for the tuition over the past years. She will see no salary cut. More to give to her sister.

Command transferred Caitlyn to a different front. She hopped off from the Turangga that just arrived at a new staging ground. She heads off to locate the quarter that Command has assigned to her. On her way, she notices a column of five flatbeds entering the premises. All the idling personnel are turning their attention to the cargo they are carrying. Caitlyn too is awestruck.

New type of tanks; they are slightly bigger than the Chords. The turret is lengthier and has a lower profile. The tank’s rear compartment is sheltered underneath it. The gun resembles an oversized rectangular clothespin. Sets of diagonal panels enclose the turret on the sides like the Guards’ shield wall. They flash when sunlight hits. Caitlyn blinks her way out of it. The panels’ reflective trait is pretty concerning. One doesn’t wish to reveal their position when they don’t have to. The flash is brighter than a Chord’s muzzle when it fires and can be seen from kilometers away. These new tanks give up the opportunity of the first shot.

Caitlyn shakes her head. She wishes that she is just overthinking it. There has to be something she doesn’t understand here. But that’s a problem for later.

The place isn’t as busy as her previous main base in the Patih Tread direction. The Proxies are on their duty at a steadier pace. Command must have planned a leisure to assemble and reorganize these men and women, her included. She is to be assigned to a new unit. Unit disbanding and merging has happened countless times. They will keep taking place as long as the war is in progress. Conveniently, Fort will be her detachment leader again. This time it’s a newly assembled armored task force named ‘Attrition’. Looks like she’s going to miss everyone she knows back in Caution. Especially…

“Caitlyn!” Someone cries her name.

She looks to the right. A blonde maid leap at her. The maid wraps her arms around her neck and presses her cheek against hers.

“Genesis?” Caitlyn is elated seeing her again.

“My cute tank commander is finally here!”

Caitlyn chuckles as she returns her cuddling. “You were expecting me?”

Genesis let go. “Of course, we were. We’re going to be together under Captain Fort again.” She steps to the side. “Your turn, Charlotte.”

Charlotte approaches her with arms extended.

“Perfect timing, Caitlyn.” They shake hands and touch their cheeks.

“Can’t believe you two are here as well.” Caitlyn says.

“We’re just too good to let up.” Genesis says with puffed chest.

The two maids then look at her astonishingly as they notice the pin on her fatigue’s collar that shows her rank.

“Second Lieutenant?” Genesis asks. “Really?”

Caitlyn shyly nods. It isn’t much really. She just took the opportunity. She didn’t even top her class. She just did well enough to pass.

“We were told that we’re getting a new officer.” Genesis gestures at her. “Can’t believe it’s you.”

“By the way, Captain Fort has something to say for you.” Charlotte says to Caitlyn.

“Oh, you’re right.” Genesis adds. “Come,” The maid grabs Caitlyn’s hand. “He’s waiting over there.”

Genesis drags Caitlyn with no second thought. Charlotte follows behind. Straight past the commotion and on the left side is a hangar. Tons of ammunition containers are stacked nearby. A column of Chords and Convexes are entering the place. Genesis takes her inside, just past its opening. Caitlyn immediately notices a Creeper sitting on the left side. And beside it, are Fort and Hassle sitting on a container.

“Sir.” Genesis salutes him. “She’s here.”

Caitlyn and Charlotte salute the two gentlemen.

Fort and Hassle stands up and return the salute.

“At last.” Fort flashes his eyebrows at Hassle who then sits back down. “Welcome back…Second Lieutenant Grauwelle Caitlyn.”

Caitlyn and Fort shake hand.

“First of all, congratulations for graduating the officer school.” He says with his usual friendly smile. “Welcome to the officer gang.” Fort nods at Hassle.

Hassle claps his hands while nodding at Caitlyn.

“Second, I’ve sign you up to field-test one of those tanks which has just arrived. There’s no way you didn’t notice them out there. And you passed. You’re going to report to the officer in charge of the testing in a moment.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Third…” Fort reaches into his backpack beside Hassle. He pulls out a casket the size of his palm. It has a dashing black color with a pair of azure stripes. The state’s insignia is imprinted on it.

Caitlyn gasps. It’s a medal container.

Fort opens the casket. The medal is made out of platinum with reflective crimson edges. It’s the shape of a sword pointing downward with thorny vines twisted around its blade. The strap has dark gray and crimson stripes color.

“Those Thorn tanks started to appear in every front. They are prized by the telves and we too should prize them as much as they do. It’s ‘trimming season’ for us, in Command’s words. They’re rewarding those who participate in the destruction of every Thorn with this medal, Thornslayer.”

Caitlyn briefly gazes down at it in awe. She glances at Fort again after a few seconds.

“Sir.” She responds.

Fort lifts it by its strap. “Now, where do I put this thing?” He moves it left and right, looking for the fitting space in Caitlyn’s fatigue to tuck it.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The fatigue isn’t designed to hold medals. Caitlyn just smiles looking at the captain who insists to put the medal on her by himself. It’s just tradition. She holds the laughter within. Though it’s probably okay for her to chuckle at his behavior, she still thinks it’s quite disrespectful.

Caitlyn raises both of her hands.

Fort sighs. “Alright…” He puts the cover under the casket and places it on Caitlyn’s hands.

She then looks at Genesis. “Does it mean you have one too?”

Genesis nods.

“Oh and…” Fort draws her attention again. “Genesis told me how you both took one down. I say it’s a spectacular work. And since you were the first one to take it down months ago, it deserves recognition.”

“Sir?”

“Hassle and I argued with Command to commission a title for you. From now on, for your merit of being the first to take down a Thorn, and blew it up from the inside, Command bestowed you the title: Thornbaker.”

Caitlyn gasps.

“In case you don’t know, titles are unique. Everyone can get Thornslayer. But only you can be called Thornbaker.” Fort shrugs. “So yeah, congratulations.”

They shake hands again. Genesis and Charlotte cheers for her. Hassle claps vigorously this time.

“Any comments, Hassle?”

Hassle chuckles. “It was awful arguing with Command. I swear I won’t do if it wasn’t for you.”

Caitlyn smiles at him. “Thank you, sir.”

“Things settled back home?” Hassle asks.

“Yes, sir.”

Hassle thumbs up. “Very nice.”

“That’s all I have to say.” Fort sits down. “You should be notified for the field-test real soon. Get along with anyone in the meantime.”

Caitlyn salutes him. “Sir.”

“Oh, right. We’ve known each other for a while now. No need to go all formal on me.”

“Should have told her that first hand, Fort.” Hassle says.

“Shut up.”

Caitlyn turns to Genesis. “I have something for you too, by the way.”

The maid curiously looks at her. Caitlyn reaches into her pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper. She unfolds it and gives it to her.

“This is…” Genesis slowly brightens up. “No way!”

“She came to my house four months ago.”

Genesis hugs her. “You’re my best friend from now on.” She quickly let her go. “Okay now I think we’re late to report to the quartermaster. Charlotte, come on.”

Genesis withdraws and jogs away.

Charlotte leans closer to Caitlyn. “She means it, the former one.” The maid winks. Charlotte quickly catches up to her friend.

Shortly after, she receives a notification that the test is commencing. She rushes to find her quarter. There, she puts down her backpack and her medal inside it. There’s a small mirror on the desk. Her face is still the same after ten years. But she is no longer the same girl. She is now surrounded by people who supports her. Gvozdika and Ilya are no longer her only family. Genesis, Charlotte, and everyone else she knows have entered the circle. Caitlyn takes a deep breath and nods vigorously. She convinces herself that she has nothing worth worrying, not even the Thorns.

Caitlyn reports to the officer in charge of the test. The new tanks are already lined up on the field. She straps in her protective gear before climbing into her designated tank, the one farthest from her. The commander’s hatch is still located before the turret. It opens by itself.

“Please enter, commander.” She hears a female voice. It sounds like an automated response but a bit rougher and has better intonation.

Caitlyn hops down to the commander’s seat. The odor of newly welded parts strikes. The tank has two seats inside, but they are joined by a beam which has a cushion attached on top. That still makes it three just like the Chords. The interface and the radar screens are still on the center dashboard. But there is only one env-screen now. It gives three-hundred-sixty-degree view of the surroundings by swiping it around. Caitlyn bounces on her seat, getting herself comfortable with it. It’s cozier than a Chord overall. But it could be that way due to the tank being factory-new.

“All commanders, report in.” The officer in charge says through utilizer.

“Second Lieutenant Caitlyn, reporting.” She replies. The rest of the tank commanders follow.

“Initiate first impression. You have five minutes to do so and register the name for your tanks. Over.”

“So, greetings commander.” The tank says. The lines on the interface oscillates. “Welcome to PT1 ‘Zenith’. This platform is designed in accordance to the Primus’ decree of automating the People Defense Platforms. Just like the Convexes and the Crescents, I can move and shoot on my own. But as a platform meant to inflict major damage, it’s best to assign at least a person to provide proper directive…”

The tank goes on with the introduction. Caitlyn strangely doesn’t zone out this time.

“May I have your name now, commander?”

“Grauwelle Caitlyn. But call me Caitlyn.”

“Fantastic. Now that I have your name, it’s time for you to name me.” The oscillating lines on the interface turns into a keyboard with a rectangle above it. Anything she types in will appear there. “Don’t think too hard about it. Anything will do.”

Caitlyn raises her sight, thinking of a suitable name. Should it be something that strikes fear? Should it be something that raises morale? Should it be something that sounds cool or poetic? Or like what the tank said, anything will do?

The fifth minute has passed. The officer in charge addresses them again. He gives emphasis to Caitlyn for not yet registering her tank’s name. She takes a deep breath, admitting that she is not good at naming. She just types in a phrase into the interface and confirms it.

“Interesting. I like that name.”

Caitlyn chuckles.

Glad that you do…

“Like every other People Defense Platform,” The officer speaks to all the field-testers. “The name you’ve registered will stick with the tank as long as it’s in service. We’ll initiate cruising test. All commanders, stick yourself out of the tank to get your bearing.”

The hatch above her opens. The engine rumbles. She remembers the first time she rides a Chord during training. It’s once in a lifetime experience. Nothing beats the first time.

Caitlyn pulls out her pendant, clicking it open. She gazes upon the image of PT. A new stage of duty is before her. Being granted a new-variant tank is an indication. She finds herself a new guardian. She wishes to let him know. She wishes that thinking about it will let him know.

“Cruising test begins in five…”

Caitlyn gives the pendant a kiss and holds it close to her face.

“Four…”

“Gray Katie!” Caitlyn cries her name.

“Three…”

“Yes, Caitlyn?”

“Two…”

Caitlyn extends her arm forward. “Full speed!”

“One…”

Gray Katie lurches forward, ahead of everyone else. Together they cruise toward the uncertain tomorrow. Caitlyn has no regret. If it’s death that awaits her, so be it.