POV Bay Officer Nasreen

I glance over at the Ensign for a quick second before deciding not to question his decision. After all, I’ve seen people do stupider in the name of haste. As I make my way into the hallway with him in tow, I feel my mind mull over his words.

While I try not to make it my business how other people spend their lives, something about his words just ended up rubbing me the wrong way. Though thinking about them some more, they fit with the rest of the general mindset of the ship. Outside of bays, there is a clear class system. While I had somewhat gotten used to seeing the divide between Blaustien and his men vs Lieutenant Prissy Prick and his gaggle it is a bit strange to see it from people who were part of the same clique.

Despite it not being my business, I can’t help but mull over his words. Something about them just rubs me the wrong way. After walking for a bit, it hits me. It reminds me all too much of the general mindset of the ship. While the mech bay, thanks to the chief, is fairly egalitarian, the rest of the ship isn’t by any means. The clearest divide being the way Lieutenant Prissy Prick and his gaggle treat everyone, especially Blaustien and his men. I guess I was hoping that they would not add to that general vibe. Though the Ensign’s attitude proves that hope to be a foolish one.

“It’s honestly amazing he can think like that with how he flies,” I mutter to myself as I enter the bay. I clear my head with a quick shake before marching straight over to my workstation. I clear it up a little bit so the Ensign can have some room as I quickly work to pull up the footage.

Most of the footage I had to work with wasn’t anything all that special. Bluastien and his group, as skilled as they are, are snipers. Meaning that their footage didn’t make them look impressive, but it did make for some good views of the battle. Lieutenant PP, on the other hand, was late to the whole party, meaning all I got footage-wise was him taking potshots at the Martians. Out of all that footage, Kizashi and his squad leader stood out like a forest on an asteroid.

When I first saw their machines, I was a bit amazed. They both went into the thick of the battle and still only gave me relatively minor repair work. With all the modifications that we have been forced to focus on, that sight almost had me break out into praise. However, seeing their footage only added to my amazement, especially of Kizashi. The way he moved his AG, each movement smoothly transitioning to the next.

Comparing him to his squad lead would be like comparing a drill and a pick. Both can break stone, but one is a much more refined solution than the other. As I grab the file, my mind flashes to the moment I realized that, when he got hit by a missile salvo. Seeing him, instead of fighting against the impact to right the machine, going with the motion, just adding a bit of thrust to flip himself around was such an astonishing sight. A single efficient burst of movement that turned being struck into a new angle for attack, and it was done all without a moment of floundering. Compared to his squad lead, who managed to pull off a textbook recovery, it’s almost night and day.

“Feel free to take a seat,” I say, offering my chair to him before taking a step back, curious to see how he reacts to seeing the footage.

As Kizashi sits down and hits play, his dark eyes glue to the monitor and dart around to follow every bit of movement on the screen. A few seconds before the footage gets to the part where a missile salvo hits his Janissary, he winces slightly and does so again once the enemy craft exits his range of fire. But other than that, he is practically motionless except for the steady motion of his breathing and the flickering of his eyes.

As the video finishes, he snaps forward and restarts it to watch it back from the beginning of the battle. Once again, he watches the screen like a fresh guard in a tower, though this time, he winces in a few more spots than just the other two, seemingly at random. He resets it once again, and the process repeats itself a third time. Once it ends and I see him going for a fourth, I tap him on the shoulder.

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“As glad as I am that you are clearly getting something out of the footage, I do have some other stuff to organize as well.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry about that,” he says, hurriedly rising.

“Don’t worry about it. As I said, I’m glad you are interested in looking over the footage. If you want, I can upload it so you can view it later.”

“Yes, please. I was able to see several spots where I could improve. I’m sure I could find some more if I had more time.”

“Well, you’re quite the dedicated one,” I chuckle. “Hopefully, everyone else from the academy is as dedicated as you are.”

“Oh, you have to be,” he replies, handing over his ID. “The training was rigorous, the testing was constant, and the instructors were always unsatisfied. I spent a lot of nights in the sims when I could. And if I was unable, I would go over my footage like this. So, again, thank you very much for helping me out like this.”

“Think nothing of it,” I reply, waving away this thanks before focusing on transferring a copy of the footage to his account. “You being willing to put in the work like this makes my job easier. The less damage your machine takes, the less I have to do repair work. As much as I like working on machines, and these machines especially, avoidable repairs are always just the slightest bit annoying to have to work on.”

“I’ll make sure not to give you any more,” he replies, bowing a bit as I hand his ID back over to him.

“I’ll hold you to that then,” I chuckle. “Take care.”

“Thank you again,” he says, bowing before carefully walking out of the bay.

“It’s honestly a shame that he’s stuck in a simple Janissary for the moment,” I sigh, looking over at his machine before shaking my head. “Well, there’s nothing I can do about that for the moment.”

Turning back to my computer, I gather up all the files before sending them off to the commander as he ordered before getting back to my usual duties.

Kizashi pov

As I walk out of the bay, my thoughts race through the footage. Alight with ways that I can improve. Within the footage, my flaws were as clear as a diamond and twice as sharp. My feet lead my body through the halls as my mind focuses on those flaws. They dance through my head as I try to organize and order them before the voices of my past instructors chime in, shattering the ordering I have created and demanding a new one. By the time I make it to my room, they are the only thing on my mind.

I rush over to the small desk, grab the tablet placed there for me, and insert my card into it. Pulling up the footage, I sit down and allow the footage to pull me in once again, freeing my mind for a second as I watch myself launch out of the ship. The view on the screen is a condensed version of what I see within the cockpit, the only difference being the addition of some additional display information, though as I focus in, they naturally tune themselves out of my mind.

I skip past the initial footage and move straight to the point where the battle begins. From there, I watch the footage unfold, watching over and over again for each and every possible mistake I make during the battle. Thanks to my time at the academy, I am able to find several. Not reacting quickly enough to the enemy, not changing weapons fast enough, not going for a retribution attack, and an endless number of additional flaws.

After a while, I feel my eyes start to get a bit tired, so after quickly rushing through my usual sleep routine, I head to bed. As I retreat under the covers, I bring the tablet with me, allowing the footage to lull me to sleep.

The battlefield consumes my mind. As I cross the void in my shell of steel, I face off against my enemy. Their number seems countless, and they swarm me with the ferocity of a beast. However, the shell moves for me. As they enter my sights, I launch a missile at them. I don’t waste a second waiting to see results already casting aside my initial weapon in favor of another. I release a spray of bullets as I charge forward into the cloud of death.

Bullets and bombs fly my way, but their paths are as clear as a summer day, and the shell moves how I wish. It dances through the danger free from any restraints or inhibitions. As it dances, my foes fall. Each death is accompanied by a flowering explosion that lights up the void. Behind each of the beautiful flowers are echoing screams. Each is different; some are high, some are low, some seem masculine, and others feminine, but they accompany the flowers of light all the same.

The dream loops throughout the night. Twisting, changing, yet ever remaining.