In the vastness of space, two solitary warcaskets confronted each other. Humanity had left Earth behind, journeying among the stars, while old Earth nations crumbled, giving rise to the Empire. And despite the cataclysmic battle with the xeno race that had nearly wiped them out centuries ago, one thing endured: the ever-persistent drums of war and battle.

In the distant future, honor, tradition, and a warrior culture thrived. And now, two young adults grappled with this warrior culture. They floated in the cosmic abyss, moving like ships tossed in a maelstrom of black waves.

Their warcaskets crackled with energy as they locked eyes with their adversary in the endless dark of space. But it wasn't just the abyss that surrounded them. It was the radiant light of the sun, the scarred moon hanging in the sky, and the vast blue orb they called home.

"Piper..." Her name resonated in her ears.

Piper's eyes widened. "Margoret," she responded through the intercom. She sat inside her mech, nestled in the lonesome void of space within her warcasket. The cockpit was snug, and her head reclined lazily on the cushioned pilot's seat.

Her mech, 'Delilah,' was a "Striker X-900." This mechanical marvel was a fusion of the swift strider class and the sturdy heavy class. It stood at an average height of 8.5 meters, offering a balance of protection and mobility.

The humanoid machine had splayed, mechanical feet resembling those of a predatory beast. Its armored plating, thicker than usual, housed intricate wires and cogs. The metal bore a militaristic desert paint scheme, adding to its imposing presence.

Piper sat at the controls. Her thick bobbed hair was tied up in a tight ponytail secured at the back of her helmeted head. Her blue eyes surveyed the boundless expanse, fingers gripping the controls with the weight of the machine's very soul.

"When is this starting?" Piper inquired, irritation seeping into her voice.

Margoret's sigh echoed through her earpiece. "You know how Neptune wants it," Margoret chided, her disapproval clear even in Piper's mind's eye. "They want all the new students to see this."

A silence settled in the cockpit, and Piper's gaze drifted from the planet and the academy to her opponent. Logan, the Trident of Neptune.

She scoffed at the sight, her eyes tracing over other elements. Her gaze lingered at the edge of the space elevator connecting to the massive space station of the academy. The assembled fleet remained at the ready. But in the distance, the academy's main vessel came into view.

How much time had passed since her arrival? Piper pondered the changes and how quickly she'd come to understand the abnormality of this school. A place where one could aspire to become a champion of the empire, where dreams of wealth, fame, and nobility could manifest into reality.

Yet, none of these rewards seemed to be within their grasp. For Piper, graduating without causing harm to others would be nothing short of a miracle. The same, however, couldn't be said for her peers.

"Piper," Margoret called her name softly, a gentle nudge to start a conversation.

Piper sighed and shut her eyes, seeking a moment of respite. "Yes?"

"How are you holding up?" Margoret asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

Piper paused, her skepticism peeking through her response. "What do you think?"

Margoret huffed. "Don't get all snippy, Piper," she chided. Piper could practically hear the exasperated sigh escaping Margoret's lips. "Who does all your cooking and cleans up the dorm for you?"

Piper hesitated, knowing Margoret had her in a corner. "You do," she admitted, her voice resigned, as though confessing a childhood transgression.

Margoret likely wore a triumphant smirk on her face. "You're darn right I do," she retorted. "So don't get all worked up. I'm asking as your friend, Piper. How are you really holding up?"

There was a moment of silence, and Piper gazed out into the vastness of space. Finally, she spoke. "I don't really know," she admitted.

Margoret paused briefly before responding, "Really? So, you're feeling something, but you can't put your finger on it?"

"I said I don't know!" Piper's reply was curt, her irritation palpable. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, her grip on the console loosening. But her eyes were drawn back to the cockpit, where she saw it.

The vessel was closing in rapidly, a brilliant streak of light cutting through the void as it hurtled toward the planet. And Logan was there in the distance, bathed in the vessel's radiant glow.

His 'Warcasket' was a pure strider variant, not a hybrid like hers but known for its aerial agility and enhanced mobility compared to the standard mechs. Yet, Logan's mech had a trade-off, excelling in agility but lacking the protection of other models. Piper refocused on the console; she couldn't afford to lose her concentration.

But lose it she did. And now she knew why.

"This duel," she suddenly spoke, but her words trailed off before she could continue. Her fingers tightened around the controls, and a chilling calmness washed over her. Her apprehension shifted into a fleeting moment of anticipation.

"You're nervous," Margoret observed, a sense of satisfaction lacing her words. Piper had closed her eyes, nodding slowly in agreement before she responded.

"Yes…of course I am. He's Logan of Neptune."

"Yes, and who is our Mercurian Ace?" Margoret countered. It was a question that momentarily wavered Piper's doubts.

She sighed, then replied, "Me." But she quickly returned to a façade of indifference. "I get what you're trying to do, but it's not going to be of much real help..."

Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, her eyes tracing the planetary edges. "You are our ace," Margoret's voice whispered softly but reassuringly.

Piper was on the verge of tears. "There's so much weight on this battle," she confessed. "If I fail..."

"Give it your all," Margoret retorted firmly. Piper's eyes snapped wide, and she felt the surging power of the mech within her. "He may be the 'Spear of Neptune,' but you are our 'Mercurian Ace.' You've faced greater enemies than some rich pretty boy from the core worlds. You've got this, Piper. Unlike others, you've worked so much harder."

A solitary tear streaked down Piper's face, and she instinctively reached to wipe it away, only to have her fingers clink against the glass of her helmet. She winced audibly, prompting a hearty chuckle from Margoret.

Margoret laughed heartily. "Did you just bump into your own helmet?" she asked with a hearty laugh.

"Shut up!" Piper snapped back. But before long, laughter began to bubble from her lips, and they shared a hearty laugh for several minutes. "Thank you, Margoret," Piper eventually said, and there was a moment of silence on the other end of the radio.

"For what?" Margoret inquired.

"For calming me down," Piper replied.

Margoret remained silent for a moment before taking a deep breath. "You're my friend, and I'll be by your side every step of the way. This is just like the dozens of duels you've won before. Don't break your winning streak yet."

Piper's laughter brought confidence as she tightened her grip on the controls, and that trademarked smirk of hers returned. "You're right…this isn't any different than before," she affirmed.

The sounds of the other mech became audible just as their ship made its way to the crescent of the planet, giving them a view of the spectators. Zephyr and Piper's main rockets left a blue trail of fire in the cosmos. Even from afar, Piper could see the swarm of people gathered at the windows, their faces flickering with anticipation.

"Are you ready for the duel, Piper?" Logan's voice crackled through her second radio.

Piper took a moment of silence, then sighed before activating the intercom. "I am," she replied, determination etched in her voice.

She could hear the sound of Logan shuffling within his seat in the other warcasket. It ceased a moment later. She was preparing for the duel, but then, unexpectedly, Logan's voice broke the silence.

"I don't understand why you fight for him," he said, his words echoing within her mech. Piper's eyes widened in shock but narrowed with irritation. "Shut your mouth," she snapped, her tone stern. "Don't speak as if you know Zephyr."

Logan's scoff reverberated through the radio, followed by a hearty chuckle that boomed within her cockpit. Anger surged within Piper, but a small seed of doubt wormed its way into her confidence.

"I know enough," Logan retorted. "I know that Zephyr is a slimy little weasel trying to play this game as neutrally as possible. Funny, to think that Stella was ever actually considering allying with Mercury."

Piper gasped in surprise, and her reaction only seemed to amuse Logan further. She could feel his smirking presence through the radio.

"You all really messed it up for yourselves, but..." He paused. "Can I ask you a question?" he suddenly inquired.

Piper turned her mech toward Logan's, only now realizing he had already armed himself. His mech was equipped with an oversized shield that looked almost too big for his machine's arm, and in the other, he wielded a massive trident.

"Sure," Piper responded with dripping sarcasm, raising her own mech's arms. Her robotic hands firmly gripped her beam rifle, a large laser rifle aimed at Logan. She made sure the weapon was set to a safe beam level to avoid any accidents; House Mercury was already on thin ice with Neptune.

"Why is Zephyr protecting that guy?" Logan asked, a disturbing calmness in his voice. Piper hesitated, wincing and shaking her head, and she found it difficult to respond.

Logan's tone grew increasingly relaxed, and it was clear he was trying to rattle her. Piper turned to the side, realizing this duel had to start soon. But Logan continued to speak.

"I've heard what Clive can do, and I understand the advantages of having a guy like that in your house. House Mercury is untouchable right now, with a mission streaker like him. But, Piper, does it not bother you how he openly disobeyed your house and your own authority? Think about it, wasn't it you who filed Simon's form to join us?"

Piper winced and quickly swiveled toward her microphone. "How did you know that?" she snapped, and Logan's laughter reverberated in her ears. Her hand slammed down on the console in frustration.

"Stella and Zephyr talked before the duel," he replied, his words dripping with smugness. "You're lucky we have our own rivals to deal with, but I doubt they'll be thrilled with House Mercury expanding their already substantial roster."

"What do you mean?" Piper inquired, her confusion apparent in her voice.

However, she heard Logan now chuckling. The sound echoed through the silence, a slow, mocking crescendo, like a shadow creeping across a room. Piper's heart quickened as she envisioned him leaning in his seat, his breath hitching near the microphone.

"You really think the other houses didn't notice what happened?" Logan's voice was a dagger concealed in honeyed words. It slithered into Piper's ears, hissing with a venomous truth. "You beat a Neptune, not some frontier nobody, but a true-blue core-worlder. Sure, Simon is one of ours, but I doubt Stella would care. The fact is, you attacked her out of the blue, brazen as sin, in broad daylight. Other houses don't take kindly to those who think they're invincible."

Logan's words crashed over her like a tidal wave, drowning her in an onslaught of ridicule and scorn. Piper's fingers clenched with a vice-like grip on the controls. Her eyes locked onto the console before her, her suit responding to her focused determination.

"Are you here to talk or duel?" Her voice was a whip-crack, a promise, a threat. Her resolve was a blade of vengeance sharpened by his taunts.

Logan's laughter receded, giving way to a seriousness that unsettled the turbulent waters between them. "Fine," he spat, the tension in his voice palpable. He gestured frantically within his cockpit, the exasperation clear in his body language. "Remember the rules, Mercurian Ace."

Piper felt the ember of a smug smile ignite upon her face. The title was a banner she would unfurl in the looming battlefield.

"Don't cross the line, Piper. Professors won't intervene. You spill blood, I'll draw yours."

"Mutual ground, then," Piper replied, her voice like a knife honed to a razor's edge. The intercom hummed, a portal to their impending showdown.

"Are you both ready?" Stella's voice sliced through the tension like a surgeon's scalpel.

"I'm ready, Prez," Logan answered, his voice unwavering.

"Me as well," Piper responded, her voice a mirror to Logan's determination.

"Then pledge your oaths, guardians of your empire's realm."

Piper inhaled deeply, her hands releasing their vise grip on the controls. Her right hand covered her heart, fingers trembling slightly.

"Within this duel, I test myself," Piper began, her words slipping from her lips with an ease that spoke of repetition, an oath etched into her very soul.

Logan followed suit, a deep breath anchoring his words. "Within this duel, I risk my life in service to the truth."

Piper's oath gathered momentum. Her words tumbled from her lips with a hurried rhythm, her heart pounding like a drum. "This truth will unveil who is greater, who is better, who is stronger. It will reveal who stands in the grace of the emperor, in whom his favor resides."

Silence loomed, and Piper felt a bead of sweat trickle down her nose, each drop carrying the weight of anticipation. Logan was biding his time, weaving the threads of his oath. Then, he paused, parting his lips, and his voice erupted like a tempest.

"For the emperor!" His voice boomed with fervor, a war cry that pierced the veil between them.

Piper knew better than to succumb to the battlefield's siren song. Her mech glided backward through the inky cosmos, following the unwritten rules of the duel etched into every pilot's heart. Pylons loomed, their electric maws waiting to snap shut on any misstep, zapping them out of the contest. She couldn't ignore the looming threat of the Cluster Belt either; one too close encounter, and she'd be ensnared in its razor-sharp embrace.

But Logan wasn't one to be left in the dust. His mech streaked through the void, a relentless storm in pursuit of her. Piper gripped her oversized pulse rifle, aligning it for a shot at Logan's approaching machine.

She squeezed the trigger, and her weapon belched purple beams of light. The stakes were high—the contest was a duel of wits and cunning, where the first to destroy the other's pole affixed to their mech's head would claim victory. Alternatively, a lifeless pilot would declare a grim triumph.

Logan danced between her shots, each evasion a calculated move. It was like he was plugged into an adrenaline matrix, evading with an almost preternatural precision. His nimble stryder outpaced her machine, making her task near impossible.

"Shit," she cursed, watching Logan's mech close in on her position. But just as he was about to make his move, something bizarre occurred. A burst of movement, so swift and unpredictable that Piper had never witnessed the like.

"Piper, dodge!" Margoret's voice sliced through the chaos, piercing Piper's adrenaline haze. Instinctively, she pitched her mech downward, evading the imminent strike.

The trident's blade danced against her mech's pauldron, leaving superficial damage in its wake. Orange paint and fragments of metal dispersed into the yawning abyss.

"What the hell was that?" Piper snapped, her voice crackling with urgency.

"We don't know," Margoret stammered, her voice laced with uncertainty.

"Logan upgraded his mech?" Piper's question quivered in the void, a shout torn by the tempestuous conflict. Her focus turned back to the battle as she twisted her machine, narrowly evading another strike from Logan's trident.

"It appears so," Margoret analyzed, her voice laced with surprise. "Seems he added more thrusters to the stryder. I had no idea they could pack more boosters into it."

"What do you mean?" Piper's question was a crescendo, a desperate cry that reverberated through the chaos. Her beam rifle fired again, the searing energy lancing toward Logan, disintegrating his pauldron into molten slag.

"Yes!" Piper's victory cry echoed through the cockpit.

"Good job, Piper!" Margoret's jubilant response filled her ears. Piper's thoughts wandered briefly, painting a vivid picture of House Mercury and their reactions. Some were huddled in their dorms, others congregated in their lounge, and many watched the duel on holo screens.

Piper was the Mercurian Comet, bearing the weight of her house's expectations. Victory was her solemn offering to Mercury, and she intended to keep their streak burning brightly.

"His specs!" Piper's voice crackled with urgency.

"Specs?" Margoret repeated, her tone laced with confusion. "You knew what to expect, Piper."

"Christ, Margoret!" Piper's frustration flared. "Those thrusters, they weren't in the specs. This isn't right," she snapped back into the intercom.

Logan was closing in, growing dangerously fast and too close for comfort. Each slash from his trident was a breath away from her mech, leaving shallow gashes etched in the metal. Margoret chimed in, her voice analytical.

"That's no standard strider booster," Margoret mused, followed by a series of whispers and hushed speculations. "Can't be a Mark II or Mark III; those boosters can turn pilots into jam from the g-force alone."

Margoret's analysis droned on as Piper groaned in exasperation. With a wild scream, Piper piloted her mech into a daring maneuver, spotting an opening.

Logan's mech erupted once more, perhaps the third or fourth burst by this point. "He's gotta be out after this," Piper yelled.

Margoret leaned into the intercom, her voice a chilly whisper. "How can you be sure?"

"Fuel's running thin; he can't go past five bursts with the spare booster pack," Piper retorted. "He'll have to consolidate these quick bursts and monitor his fuel gauge."

Margoret chuckled with a hint of triumph. "Logan's underestimated you, Piper. Show him the price of underestimating us."

Piper grinned and roared back, "Okay!"

Both mechs closed in, and the lights of the cosmos revealed the colossal battle to onlookers aboard the ship. Their eyes were riveted to the pulsating beams carving through the void, two mechs battling for the glory and honor of their respective houses.

Logan lunged, his trident slashing through the expanse. They were closer now than ever, and Piper's rockets had ceased. Logan initially thought it a blunder, but Piper had other plans. She parried his attack.

Spectators watched in awe as her mech's massive hand closed around her pulse rifle. She wielded the weapon with power and precision, bringing it down with a tremendous force. The trident's blunt end met the pulse rifle's hilt.

For a brief, disorienting moment, both mechs were stunned. But Piper had a plan, a fraction of a second quicker than the "Spear of Neptune."

"Eat this!" Piper bellowed in her cockpit, squeezing the trigger.

A brilliant stream of high-powered light erupted from her rifle. Logan acted on instinct, raising his shield to point-blank range. Yet, even the master-crafted shield, forged on another world, proved insufficient. The pulse pierced it, molten bits flying as the once invincible spear was challenged by a girl from a different planet. The pulse carved into the metal, leaving behind a unique metallic residue on the shield's surface. Through that small gap in the chaos, Piper glimpsed the truth: Logan's mech had been hit.

"Yes!" Piper's triumphant scream reverberated through her cockpit as she leaped within her seat.

She had crippled his mech, the pulse beam hitting its mark with unerring accuracy. The beam had penetrated the shield, piercing deep into the shoulder's joints and mechanical innards. Every breath in the audience caught in their throats as Logan's thrusters roared to life, propelling him away, the shield falling from his mech's grasp while electricity danced in loose, erratic patterns from the wound.

Piper toggled her intercom. "Logan," she purred with mischief in her voice.

She heard a heavy sigh on the other end, followed by Logan's groaning laughter. "You think I'd surrender?" She questioned, and his laughter only deepened.

"Surrender, never!" He snapped back, his voice dripping with defiance. Piper shifted her gaze to Logan's mech, observing as he maneuvered his trident through the void. Now, it was his turn to chuckle. "Stella was obsessed with that damn shield, but she never realized how useless it truly was." His mech moved away from the discarded shield, its utilitarian avian head looming over Piper's own machine. She tightened her grip on the controls.

"Do you honestly believe a midworlder can defeat a core world champion?" Logan's voice resounded through the intercom. "Don't make me laugh!" His words were a battle cry as his engines roared to life, flames trailing behind him, and they hurtled back into combat.

Logan wielded his trident with grace, each swing painting arcs and dashes across her mech's frame as she struggled to dodge and evade. "What the hell is happening? He's moving faster!"

Margoret's voice offered an explanation. "It was the shield. Without it, he's lighter and faster. He dropped the shield." Understanding crept into her voice, but she pushed that thought away. This was not the time. "He hasn't gotten faster, Piper; he's been this quick all along. You just need to—"

"He's too fast!" Piper screamed in return, her panic overtaking her.

With no shield and Logan's trident rapidly bypassing her mech's base energy defenses, Piper was in disarray. She had never faced an opponent of this caliber. His speed was staggering, and they danced through the skies.

A cascade of beams and the whirl of the trident cut through the cosmic void. It was a battle watched by the inhabitants of a new year under the radiant stars. Two warriors locked in combat, a battle coming to its climactic close.

"Shit!" Piper's scream cut through the chaotic clash, her intent clear – but Logan was a master of evasion. He deftly sidestepped a blow aimed directly at his vulnerable pylon, maneuvering with a grace that sent metallic groans reverberating through the battlefield.

But Logan wasn't satisfied with mere evasion. His mech pitched, flexing its metal sinews in an almost inhuman contortion. Metal grated against metal, a discordant symphony of strain. Piper felt a shiver down her spine, for Logan was far from finished.

With deadly precision, Logan thrust his trident beneath Piper's mech, a serpent poised to strike. His weapon poised for a calculated strike aimed directly at the right wrist of Piper's machine.

In those perilous seconds, Piper's instincts took over. She strained her mech to the side, a desperate attempt to evade the impending disaster, but time betrayed her. With the taste of bitter inevitability, she sacrificed her pulse rifle in a desperate bid for victory.

The grating clamor of metal on metal was the first harbinger of the disaster. Piper gazed upon her now mutilated weapon. The trident had cleaved through it with an unrelenting fury, severing it in two. Electric sparks and lights danced around the severed metal like malevolent fireflies.

Yet, the revelation was more than visual. Her wide eyes darted to her mech's right hand. The gruesome reality of the situation struck her before she even raised her hand to inspect it. Her right fingers, from pinky to index, were gone – their absence replaced by jagged, chipped remnants that exposed her mech's inner workings.

Margaret's piercing scream snapped Piper from her stunned reverie. Piper's left hand darted behind her, where she glimpsed the gleaming terror of Logan's trident hurtling toward her. The cosmos illuminated their frenzied duel, a shower of sparks painting their grim ballet.

The knife she wielded was more survival tool than weapon, often regarded as a relic of a bygone era. Most mech pilots considered it a useless relic or discarded it, favoring more conventional armaments for close combat.

Their weapons clashed in a cacophony of sparks, a symphony of steel, and fury. The trident met her knife in a clash of wills, and the once-pristine blade bore scars from the relentless onslaught.

Logan laughed, a cruel mirth. "You've done well for someone not of true birth."

Piper's retort carried a sting of defiance. "Oh really? Pay attention."

Piper responded with a venomous laugh. "You lost an arm and your shield to a girl younger than you. Imagine how your house will treat you, even after this win, knowing you gave me an inch."

Logan's silence was a brewing tempest. The anger simmered within him, a force that threatened to erupt at any moment. "You're done," he muttered, his words belying the impending storm.

The two mechs were locked in a struggle, the battle hanging in a precarious balance. Piper made a split-second decision, wrapping her free arm around his pylon, ready to make the final push.

As her metal fingers clamped down on his pylon, sparks cascaded overhead from Logan's trident cleaving through her own pylon. Victory was within her reach. She needed to be faster, to be more determined, and to claim the triumph she desired.

But as she strained against the pylon, the friction and resistance, she felt the power of her mech draining away. The battle was approaching its climax, the outcome on a razor's edge.

Her limbs felt lifeless, heavy as stone. Panic gripped her as she glanced around, taking in the eerie scene. The mechs stood frozen in time, suspended in some mysterious stasis. Piper's heart pounded in her chest as she wondered if the nearby cluster ring or the academy's pylons that anchored them had somehow short-circuited their systems. It was as if time itself had come to a standstill.

Then a voice, not Margaret's, but one she recognized, broke the otherworldly silence. "You did good, Piper."

Zephyr's voice resonated, words carrying a solemn weight. "We are all so proud of how hard you fought, and I know that Neptune failed within their humiliation."

Piper couldn't fathom the meaning behind his words. Confusion laced her voice as she asked, "What are you talking about?"

Zephyr sighed, and Piper could hear the mechanical release of Logan's grasp on her mech. He retracted his trident to his mech's back as he floated away, leaving Piper free. "Logan's lights are still on, but mine are..."

Margaret's voice chimed in, heavy with disappointment. "She hasn't lost before. She doesn't..."

Piper felt a lump constricting her throat, threatening to choke her. It was a moment of shock, followed by a deep, nauseating turmoil in her stomach. She forced back the bile, refusing to disgrace herself within the confines of her spacesuit. Tears welled, hovering in her helmet.

The unbeaten Mercurian Ace had met her match, and a weight of defeat bore down on her. "I lost," she admitted, the words coming easier than she would have ever imagined.

She had stood undefeated in countless duels, but now, facing Logan of Neptune, she had been bested. Despair consumed her as she grappled with the reality of her loss.

"Piper," Zephyr's voice offered consolation, seeking to ease her pain. "You've done excellently. There's no shame in losing. You've vanquished champions before, and Logan simply outmatched you. There's no dishonor..."

"Honor!" Piper interrupted with frustration, her gaze turning to her camera, knowing Zephyr was watching. "I lost!" she yelled.

Tears streaked down her cheeks, her eyes heavy with regret. Her hands pressed against her helmet's glass, as if to hide from the bitter truth.

Logan's voice crackled through the intercom, and Piper couldn't hide her anger. "What do you want, Logan?" she snapped, her voice tinged with fury.

Logan's condescending tone grated on her nerves. He spoke with an air of arrogant confidence, his words piercing like barbed arrows. "Don't be ashamed," he said. "You've done very well, especially for a midworlder, and might I add... a woman."

An eerie silence hung heavily in the air, a stifling shroud that settled over Piper, its weight almost suffocating. Her face contorted in a mixture of anguish and disgust, a visceral reaction to the virulent words that had been unleashed.

"You... you're a real..." Piper began, her voice trailing off, unable to find the words to encapsulate her feelings.

Margoret, her voice laced with a stern disapproval, intervened, urging Piper to refrain from further dialogue. "Don't even try and speak to him, Piper," she warned, her words a palpable reflection of the depths of their shared frustration.

For a brief moment, the vast expanse of space revealed nothing but the haunting emptiness between the stars. Piper's mechanical eyes, along with Logan's unrelenting gaze, scanned the cosmic canvas, searching for a glimmer of hope or threat among the sea of debris.

Then, in the distance, a solitary warcasket emerged from the cosmic void, rocketing through the field of debris. It was a lone marvel, an anomaly in the unforgiving expanse of the universe.

Piper's breath caught in her throat, and she hesitated. "Is that..." Her voice trailed off, disbelief coloring her words.

Logan, his piercing blue eyes hidden beneath a determined brow, monitored the celestial spectacle. "Is he one of your guys?" he inquired, his voice laden with suspicion.

Piper's reaction was swift, her indignation palpable. "What!" she snapped, her words laced with incredulity. "You really think that we'd do something so underhanded like that?"

Logan's response was shrouded in cynicism. "Well, maybe... you know Zephyr isn't the most trustworthy sort," he mused aloud, his tone laced with rumors and doubt. "I've heard many things about you, Piper. And I know something about bullheaded loyalty. The thing that I hate the most is that you embody this loyalty to your house, and that's fine... admirable, really. However, you are not of Mercury. Your parents are not from that world but are rather serfs. You will forever be viewed as untrustworthy and disloyal."

Piper's anger flared, and she challenged his divisive rhetoric. "Don't use that planetary dissonance mumbo-jumbo racial hierarchy crap on me!" she yelled, her words resolute. "I may come from a midworld, but I am a part of House Mercury. I am their ace, and I know that when I graduate, I will serve my house with pride."

Logan, unyielding in his prejudice, continued his tirade. "Pride," he scoffed, his voice dripping with condescension. "You're a woman. You're better at cleaning pots and pans, and this just proves it."

Piper refused to let his sexist views go unchallenged. "You're really so proud of being a sexist?" she retorted, her frustration boiling over.

"I'm proud of being of superior stock," Logan dismissed her with a wave. "Do you not understand the hierarchy here? You challenged me, a worthy, proud son of Neptune. My father is heir to the first line that wields the all-powerful ARC cores. The blood of great kings and queens, of great warriors and a great line await me. Who are you?"

Logan's words struck a nerve, and Piper winced at the unspoken truths he wielded as weapons.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"I know you midworlders usually enjoy democracy and many amenities, better than industroworlds and even those damn dreaded feudal worlds," Logan continued, condescendingly. "However, you don't understand truly what is going to happen to you. Right now, you have lost to me... you know that deep down, the way you will look at yourself now. A pitiful failure."

The weight of his words bore down on her, and doubt began to erode her self-assurance. The thought that maybe he was right, that she was indeed a failure, seeped into her core.

But she couldn't afford to falter. Her sense of purpose demanded her resilience. She redirected her attention from their petty dispute, realizing that they had been squabbling while more significant matters loomed.

Piper sighed, not yet comprehending the true gravity of the situation. The profound implications would become clear in time, but for now, action was her only recourse.

Piper understood the urgency of the situation and the need for action. She took command, her voice firm and resolute. "Number one, I am going to try and connect to the comms of the mech to figure out what's happening. Number two, you are going to then radio the presidents. And... finally, number 3. You are going to be silent."

Logan's response was a gruff snarl, irritation dripping from his voice as he addressed Stella, the leader of their House. "Stella, there is an issue here..."

While Logan continued with his conversation, Piper busied herself with the controls, flipping switches and adjusting dials to establish a connection. It took her a couple of minutes, but eventually, she succeeded.

"Hello?" Piper spoke into the comm, her voice trembling faintly, her throat still bearing the rawness of recent tears.

The response she received was far from comforting. A moment of silence, then an eerie burst of static and unintelligible whispers seeping through. The unusual hush that had fallen over the duel's aftermath seemed to stretch into eternity. It was akin to being the last one on a sports field after a game, an eerie solitude lingering.

"Hello!"

The sudden, urgent voice jolted Piper in her seat. Startled, she instinctively recoiled, clutching her head as she cringed at the piercing volume.

"Who is this!" she hissed back, her voice a harsh whisper.

After a pause, the voice on the other end replied, this time with more humility. "Sorry."

The accent and dialect in the voice piqued Piper's interest. It carried an older, more archaic quality, reminiscent of a bygone era and hardier people. Her anthropologist father would have appreciated the nuances, but in the moment, Piper needed answers.

"My name is Henryk F. Fitzgerald, junior pilot certification number E739," he introduced himself, and then there was a hushed conversation between him and someone named Edward, who questioned his choice to reveal his full identity.

Henryk persisted, inquiring about Piper's intentions. "What's your deal?" he demanded.

Henryk and Edward found themselves floating in the vast expanse of space, the emptiness around them stretching into infinity. Their conversation held an unusual blend of camaraderie and tension.

"You really have a knack for talking to women," Ed remarked, his tone lighthearted.

Henryk chuckled, his words filled with a hint of nostalgia. "Some lady that was, we call them banshees from my neck of the woods."

"Some neck of the woods," Ed replied with a chuckle. "You speak like some damn hillbilly, like one of those old movies."

Henryk waved off the comment, brushing it aside. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Did you put on the suit yet?"

Ed confirmed with a nod, adjusting his glove. "A bit dirtier and an older pattern that I'm not really a fan of. But, it will get the job done."

"It better," Henryk retorted.

As they continued their journey through the vast, unforgiving space, turbulence struck their warcasket, sending Henryk scrambling to regain control, while Ed held onto a nearby railing to steady himself.

"Damn it!" Henryk cursed. "It's a damn minefield out here."

Ed questioned the turbulence, and as Henryk inquired whether he had ever been on a cluster belt before, Ed hesitated momentarily. His almost-negative response was replaced by a nod.

"What was that?" Henryk pressed, his eyes locked on Ed.

"Huh?" Ed mumbled, fumbling for a response.

Henryk's gaze remained on Ed, and he probed further. "You were about to... I just don't get why you got so strange. But you've always been strange."

Ed could only stare, his unease showing. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, unable to find words to explain.

Henryk continued, his words laced with a touch of sarcasm. "You have this weird manner to you, and I don't know if you're just strange or a mad individual."

Ed smirked at that. "My father said that every man is at least a bit strange, or at least a bit mad to say the very least."

"Really?" Henryk questioned, his tone tinged with skepticism. The words, delivered with eloquence, struck a chord that would resonate in their minds later.

"It's our strangeness that defines us, it's what makes us act when the time is right," Ed continued. "It's because we are special, and for the things we do that are deemed mad are truly acts of courage. For we, the swords of the empire, truly shoulder such a burden."

The words hung in the cockpit, leaving both Henryk and Edward momentarily silent. "Your father, he sounds like a soldier," Henryk remarked, his tone softened.

Ed let out a chuckle, but his tone grew more solemn as he responded. "A soldier," he repeated incredulously, dismissing the idea. "My father was not a measly soldier on the battlefield; he stood far taller than that. He was a knight, Henryk, a true warrior who served our emperor with distinction. He lived for the past emperor, and he died for the new and true line of the throne."

Henryk absorbed the weight of those words, the image of such a remarkable man as his father took shape. It felt like having a beacon of inspiration to guide one's path, to strive to meet the unattainable standards set by a hero.

For a fleeting moment, Henryk's own memories resurfaced—brief, fragmented visions of violence and brilliance, tinged with psychic potential. A desolate world among the stars, the echo of his mother's voice, and a blistering sight of a lone 'warcasket' standing against an army, guarding their loved ones. His father, Nathaniel, a warcasket pilot, had given them not just freedom but redemption. He had wielded a mighty blade for his family and his people, passing the torch to his son.

A surge of emotion overwhelmed him, and he confessed, "You speak like he's..." but the words didn't come, the sentiment swallowed by an unspoken understanding.

Ed nodded, the smile fading, and he glanced at his wrist, tightening the glove around his arm. "My father was a knight. There's a saying: you live by the sword, you die by it. That's what happened to my father, and to his father before him. I know that fate will follow me as well."

The silence grew heavy, and Henryk found himself staring into Ed's eyes as he began to speak again. "We are the sons of dead fathers. My father was a great man, but that means his shadow looms even larger on me to live up to." He paused and turned the question toward Henryk. "Does your father's shadow loom over you, Henryk?"

The question hung in the air, casting its shadow. Henryk found himself at a loss for words, caught in an unfamiliar web spun by the evolving Ed. The earlier smile had vanished, and green emerald eyes bore into him with a half-smirk. It felt like a test, as if Ed were trying to gauge his response, and Henryk was unsure of the intentions behind it.

His reaction was a sneer, a defense mechanism to push back the probing scrutiny. "What are you trying to get at?" he scoffed, pointing his hand at Ed.

An enigmatic tension hung in the cockpit, and Henryk's emotions became a swirling mix of annoyance, anger, and confusion. It was as though a mysterious game was unfolding before him, and he was an unwitting participant.

For a moment, Henryk pondered whether their earlier exchange had somehow offended Ed. Then, to his surprise, Ed erupted into a mighty torrent of laughter, slapping his knee and extending both hands toward Henryk.

"Look at your face!" Ed roared with laughter, reveling in the moment.

Henryk's earlier feelings of annoyance, confusion, and hesitation melted away. It was as though Edward had cast a spell, and Henryk couldn't quite decipher it. Whatever Ed was trying to discern, it felt like an attempt to gauge the depths of Henryk's soul. Like wolves sizing each other up, deciding whether to be foes or allies. And as Ed turned away, the scent of alliance hung in the air.

The intercom crackled to life, a sputtering voice breaking through the tension. Henryk turned his attention toward it, his curiosity piqued.

Yet, Ed's features quickly returned to neutral, and he focused on the back of Henryk's raven-black hair. "I've got my eye on the type of guy you are, Hen. You can't forget the ones that came before, and seeing this disgust through your eyes tells me something about you. You can't ever forget or forgive; regret is the purest of sins."

"Piper?" Henryk called out her name, puzzled. "Like a pipe?"

A moment of silence settled upon them. "A pipe..." Piper repeated, not in shock but with a hint of bafflement at the unexpected question.

"Your name is a bit strange is all," Henryk explained. It was a casual observation, and he imagined the unknown boy in the other cockpit simply shrugging.

"What the hell are you going on about!" Piper's yell echoed through both cockpits. "Shut up!" came her retort, a bit quieter.

"We're not getting anywhere like this," Ed scoffed as he headed for the comms.

"What are you doing?" Henryk questioned.

"Signaling them to help us," Ed replied, pointing toward the two large humanoid mechs. "We've got to maneuver through that cluster belt. They've got rifles and melee weapons that could just as easily cleave through the debris and rock."

Henryk sighed and dismissed the idea. "We don't need a bunch of nobles and coreworlders," he said with a sigh. "I've been navigating debris since I was nine, in space and deadly conditions around my colony. Trust me, we're in good hands."

Ed rolled his eyes at Henryk's confidence. "So, I'm meant to leave it in the hands of the expert?" he asked sarcastically.

"Yep," Henryk replied simply. "Smooth sailing from this point onwards."

Henryk flipped on the intercom. "Hello again."

"Yes," Piper replied, her tone reflecting the enigmatic nature of their ongoing situation.

"There's someone within the cluster belt that I was able to detect."

The words hung heavy in the air, casting a dark shadow over the cockpit. Henryk could feel the weight of the revelation pressing down on both Piper and Logan. The vast expanse of the cluster belt, a graveyard of technology and debris, stretched out before them, and they all shared the knowledge of the imminent danger.

The eyes of the midworlder and the coreworlder, though marked by differences in noble lineage and common blood, held a common understanding of the peril that loomed around them. Humanity united them in the face of an ominous threat.

The academy had witnessed countless duels, failed experiments, and abandoned remnants swallowed by the cluster belt's tumultuous embrace over centuries. At its heart lay a unique machine, an enigmatic source of infinite electricity, akin to the pulsing heart of a mighty battleship. But this heart possessed a dangerous gravity, pulling all metallic objects into its relentless orbit like a ravenous storm.

The danger lay in the sporadic pieces of debris orbiting this central power source. A mere touch from a warcasket or a space suit could spell doom, causing their systems to short out completely. This peril extended to both mechs and space suits, making the cluster belt a deadly labyrinth of potential destruction.

Touching one of its metal surfaces would render an astronaut's suit powerless, leaving them gasping for air with no hope of survival. Henryk glanced at the suit that Ed had finally donned, leaving only the helmet untouched.

The antiquated suit held the echoes of Earth's forgotten past. Unadorned by any heraldry or unique design, it was a relic of a bygone era. While Henryk may not have grasped its significance, Ed revered it as a precious artifact. He treated it with utmost care, savoring the feeling it invoked within him.

Piper's voice broke through the moment. "What are you planning on doing? I've already reported this to the academy's rescue services, and..."

"It won't work," Henryk interjected, shaking his head with determination, teeth clicking in defiance.

"What do you mean?" Another voice joined the conversation, more pronounced this time, and Henryk realized Piper had granted him access to their comms. The urgency in the voice was palpable. "There is someone within the cluster belt?"

Logan's voice dripped with concern, a depth that Piper had underestimated. From Henryk's cockpit, Logan's mech hovered above him, an uneasy presence in the confined space.

"Yes," Henryk responded succinctly.

Piper sighed, her throat parched by anxiety. Before she could utter another word, Logan preempted her.

"That's not going to be enough time," Henryk's words sliced through the tension-laden silence. They hung in the air like a guillotine's blade, and Piper's throat went parched, leaving her speechless. But before she could gather her thoughts, Logan intervened.

"Alright then," he declared, clapping his hands with such force that the echo reverberated through the mic. "We're going to save them."

"What!" Piper's voice trembled with disbelief as she grabbed her mic. "Are you all out of your minds? Have you boys ever ventured inside a cluster belt before?"

Silence lingered, and Henryk's voice broke it with a terse affirmation. "Yes."

Piper's frustration manifested in a vein throbbing on her forehead. "You're willing to throw your lives away like this?" She snapped, her accusatory gaze aimed at Henryk's mech. "You just arrived from the vessel, you're the new kid, right? How in the hell could you have seen her?"

Henryk felt the pressure mounting, the need to concoct another lie, but this time, it was different. They were in the unforgiving depths of space, and spinning a yarn seemed impossible. How could his human eyes have perceived what he saw? The lie quivered on the tip of his tongue, ready to tumble out.

Ed's presence loomed behind him, and he watched Henryk intently. Piper pressed on, her questions relentless. "You can't escape this, you know," she hissed. "How the hell did you see inside that cluster belt?"

Henryk's eyes widened, showing the whites, but before he could attempt another fabrication, Ed intervened, his voice calm and resolute. "Doesn't matter," he uttered, his words curt and final. Ed's tired sigh doused the flames of the heated conversation. "Are we going to waste time, or are we going to save a life?"

Logan's chuckle punctuated the standoff. "Alright, then," he conceded. "Come fly with us, and Neptune's arms shall embrace you."

Ed nodded in agreement, his face bearing a cryptic smile. "Indeed, you shall have Henryk the Hick and Edward the nobody." He playfully slapped Henryk's shoulder.

The trio's laughter resounded through the depths of space, carried by the weight of uncertainty and the impending dangers. Henryk's lips curled into a small, ironic smile, revealing the shadows that lurked behind their camaraderie. Logan chimed in, a twinkle of playfulness in his eyes.

"Such titles," Logan jestingly prodded. "Fine, then. You, common lot, shall be deemed worthy enough to witness the 'Spear of Neptune' amidst the stars."

Piper couldn't resist but join in the banter, her voice layered with dripping sarcasm. "Oh, we can hardly contain our excitement," she quipped. The room echoed with their laughter, a dissonant symphony amidst the void, while Logan grudgingly bore the annoyance of their mirth. The levity, however, felt like a temporary reprieve, as their journey into the cluster belt loomed, bearing the weight of unknown perils.

The warcaskets set their course towards the cluster ring's front. Henryk turned to Ed, curiosity etched on his face. "Why did you do that?" he inquired.

Ed gazed at him with a quizzical expression. "Do what?"

Henryk locked eyes with him, seeking an explanation. "You knew I didn't want to answer the question, but you stepped in and changed the subject."

Ed considered for a moment, causing Henryk to wonder if he was either insane or foolish. But then, Ed broke into laughter. "Oh, that," he dismissed with a wave. "Don't sweat it, Hen. It was pretty obvious you didn't want to answer, and that's your prerogative."

Edward paused, his gaze fixed on Henryk in the same manner he did during their earlier discussion about fathers. "We all have our secrets, Henryk," he mused, his voice shrouded in contemplation. "It seems unfair that you, the one who witnessed this missing person and actively seeks to reach her, must be the one to bear questioning."

Henryk let out a weary sigh, his head bobbing in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Edward."

A mischievous smirk crept over Edward's lips. "What's so funny?" Henryk inquired.

Ed couldn't help but chuckle, his hands tightening around his frame. "I don't know," he shrugged, grinning. "Didn't imagine that 'thank you' was part of your vocabulary."

Henryk smirked in return. "Well, you learn new things every day, I suppose." Both boys shared a lighthearted laugh, the tension of their situation momentarily forgotten. Henryk found himself unexpectedly enjoying this camaraderie. What began as a rocky encounter with Edward now seemed like a budding friendship.

However, a sigh punctuated the moment as Henryk realized the gravity of their situation. Two teenagers, chasing after a missing person through the cosmos, risking their lives. The courage and resolve beneath Edward's cheerful facade became clear.

Their intercom buzzed as they drew nearer to their destination, the cluster ring looming ahead. It was not yet too perilous, but more challenges lay ahead. Logan's voice resonated with tension, though he tried to mask it. "We're getting closer now," he announced. "Everyone, draw your weapons. Except you, Piper." He waved his hand dismissively.

Piper was already armed with her knife, while Logan maintained his trident. Her voice was laced with a snicker, mocking Logan's unease. "You sound scared, Logan? I'm just a measly woman with a little knife, and I'm not shaking in my seat like you."

Logan's response was a thunderous "Shut up!" The animosity between them was palpable, extending beyond a mere academy duel. Henryk and Ed exchanged perplexed glances, a silent agreement that more information was needed to understand their history. While they had dueled, the depth of their malice hinted at personal strife.

Henryk let out another sigh, focusing on his mech's artificial limbs as if they were an extension of himself. All eyes were drawn to the imposing weapon in his mechanical hand.

Piper's eyes widened, and she leaned forward in her seat. "Henryk, is that…"

But Logan provided the answer, his voice laden with the weight of history. "That's a two-handed ripper weapon. Neptunian Pattern." His words echoed with the dark, ancient stories of times long past.

Henryk's eyes widened, his grip on the intercom tightening as he leaned in as close as possible. "You know the pattern, you know where this blade comes from?" he urgently asked.

Logan nodded, all traces of humor vanished. This was a matter of grave import. "The blade must have been forged centuries ago," Logan began, pausing to carefully consider his words. "It's of Neptunian Pattern, but it wasn't crafted on Neptune."

"What?" Henryk's voice trembled with a mixture of shock and confusion. "So, you're saying that it was..."

"Examine the design of the weapon," Logan interjected, directing Henryk's gaze toward the formidable blade. "I've studied at many schools prior to attending the academy, and I possess knowledge of ancient history. That weapon, or more accurately, its pattern, was originally created for a warrior who would later serve the blue planet—my planet. That was before the discovery of the world's terraforming capabilities. The weapon you now wield in your hands is a testament to history."

A sense of awe and reverence enveloped Henryk. He was momentarily rendered speechless as he gazed at the weapon. This centuries-old masterpiece, meticulously restored and refurbished, felt remarkably comfortable in his mech's grip. Its long bronze handle featured ribbed black sections, ensuring a secure hold. The pommel, constructed from the same material, was complemented by a superficially unique inverted crossguard. In terms of size, the weapon fell into the category of a bastard to greatsword for a warcasket. Its teeth, adorned with black tips, could be set in slow rotation, while its protective shielding bore a deep crimson hue.

After a brief pause, Logan inquired, "Do you comprehend the significance of what you hold?"

Henryk took a moment to collect his thoughts before responding, "Yes, I do."

Logan seemed poised to share more but decided to remain silent as they continued their journey through the cluster belt. Henryk's mind buzzed with the weight of Logan's revelation. While he was no stranger to the importance of such weapons, he had never known their true origin. Still, he knew he couldn't afford to lose himself in introspection at this moment. The task at hand demanded his full attention.

Several minutes passed as they navigated the increasingly turbulent ride.

"How is everyone doing?" Piper's voice pierced the silence.

"Fine," Henryk promptly replied.

"Fine as well," Logan added. He then queried, "So, what's the plan?"

"I've got one," declared Henryk, tilting his head as he glanced at Ed, who responded with an enthusiastic thumbs-up. "Me and Ed talked about it before we radioed, but there may be enough space to fit one person. Ed is going to breach and clear that ship, and then he'll extract whoever is trapped in there."

"That's... a pretty decent plan," acknowledged Logan.

"I agree," chimed in Piper. "I'm geared up in a spacesuit. I can assist Ed in navigating the wreckage and provide as much help as possible."

"What about us?" queried Logan.

Henryk sighed. "Whether we like it or not, we're going to have to deal with the debris and whatever's floating out there in space. Fortunately, we've avoided anything that could have fried our systems. Nevertheless, we'll remain outside to address anything that might hinder or harm the main craft."

Logan nodded in agreement. "Good, alright then."

With those words, they plunged into the sea of space debris, each second bringing them deeper into the labyrinth of floating wreckage. What was once negotiable in the open cosmos became a claustrophobic nightmare. Navigating these tight confines was a challenge beyond measure.

"I've got this," Henryk's voice crackled through the intercom. The whirring of his ripper blade echoed in their ears as its long-dormant engines roared to life. Once a weapon designed to annihilate mankind's greatest adversary, it was now a powerful tool for clearing rubble and debris.

With bated breath, they watched as Henryk, wielding his ripper blade with both mech hands, sliced a massive boulder in half, sending the fragments spinning in different directions through the vacuum of space. Their progress continued, various members opting for the brute force of Henryk's sword or the reach of Logan's trident to forge a path through the wreckage.

Piper let out an audible sigh, a mixture of frustration and exhaustion as she muted her intercom. Her hands clenched the controls as she gazed at her mechs' mangled hand and her subpar blade, questioning why she was even here.

"Found it," announced Henryk, after cleaving through the last substantial piece of debris. Beyond this final obstacle, they could see it—the eye of the storm.

In this open space within the cluster belt, sporadic flashes of light illuminated the surroundings, revealing the crackling prongs of electricity that struck the ship's hull. The discharge tore through the metal, sending fragments hurtling in all directions.

"Is that it?" inquired Logan.

Henryk hesitated, his eyes playing tricks for an instant. They momentarily appeared slightly brighter before he closed them. "Yes," he responded as he nodded. "We've wasted enough time. Let's locate them."

Ed nodded in agreement, and Piper's mech came to a halt.

"Be careful out there," cautioned Henryk. "This entire section won't hold for much longer."

"How long are we talking?" Edward inquired.

"Think minutes," Henryk replied, emphasizing the urgency.

Ed's expression tightened, and he sighed as he heard the hiss of air and the click of his helmet connecting to his main suit.

"Remember, I don't have an actual jump suit. All I can do is get you really close," Henryk reminded him.

Ed nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. As he entered the narrow confines of the airlock, he contemplated the looming challenge. Inside the mechs, these airlocks were modestly sized, primarily used for minor maintenance operations or emergency exits. In this case, it was the universal way for the pilot to disembark, but Henryk would remain inside his mech to defend against potential environmental hazards.

Ed navigated through the labyrinthine interior of the mech until he reached the airlock. It was more of an emergency exit for an emergency exit, far harder to reach. As he opened the door and examined the tight space, he felt a wave of discomfort. There was barely enough room for a second, smaller person, and he couldn't help but wish it were someone slim or, better yet, a girl. Anybody too large to fit would have to be left behind.

With a sigh, Ed eased his glass helmet into the confined space, which required precise positioning for it to fit. There was only enough space for one, and he silently prayed that it would be sufficient.

"You okay?" Henryk's voice came through the intercom.

"Never been a big fan of tight spaces," Ed admitted. He could hear the metallic clank of the door sealing shut. If all went as planned, when Piper was ready, Henryk would seal the door he had entered through and release the other, propelling Ed into the void and toward the ruined ship. If he failed, he'd be flung into the depths of space, lost forever.

Ed heard Henryk manipulating keys and dials, presumably preparing the launch sequence. "You ever done anything like this before?" Henryk asked.

"Are you asking if I've jumped out of a ship and used my own momentum to navigate space?" Ed's voice dripped with sarcasm, eliciting a chuckle from himself. "You make me feel like one of those old-timey astronauts."

Henryk joined in the laughter. "Well, astronauts back then had machines to propel them in one direction at least. Listen, all you need to do is kick off with your feet and angle yourself properly. You see those bars around you? Grab onto them. Don't get sucked into the void; instead, push off with your toes and glide through the emptiness. Keep an eye out for anything to grab before you make the jump, and—"

"You speak as if you've done this before," Ed interrupted, sensing a hidden story.

"Once," Henryk admitted, his voice heavy with a mixture of experience and regret. "I was with a mining crew on my colony for a while. It was just honest work, but things went sideways, and we had to space jump to another ship."

Ed's eyes widened. "Really? That sounds like quite the adventure."

"Jumping with a lack of equipment is dangerous, but it's very common amongst the frontier. If it helps, not a single soul that was with me when we did the jump died that day. Stay calm, and stay in control," Henryk advised, his voice tinged with the wisdom of experience.

Ed's breath hung heavy in the air. His fingers gripped the narrow bars within the cramped airlock so tightly that he could see the fabric covering his fingertips strain under the pressure. "You know, I've heard that Martians did something like this for their advanced squires, a moment of truth, a leap of faith."

"Squires?" Henryk chuckled. "Aren't squires the students of knights?"

Ed nodded, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "How does a hick like you know about knights and such?"

Henryk let the slight insult slide and joined in Ed's amusement. "My momma had old Earth storybooks. You'd be surprised by the treasures you can find in the garbage heaps of these core-worlders."

Ed raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Really?" he asked.

Henryk let out a deep sigh, reflecting on his mother's lessons. "I know that, with 'planetary dissonance,' humans feel an innate loyalty to their planets of origin. But my momma always taught me that we must never forget Earth because that is our one true home. Our bloodlines and lineages originate not from Neptune, Pluto, or even the frontier... but from old Earth. We all come from the same place."

Ed was momentarily lost for words. He hadn't expected this level of introspection from Henryk or his mother's teachings. The depth of Henryk's perspective on their shared origins was puzzling, yet intriguing.

"All right, I'm ready!" Piper's voice cut into their conversation, signaling the need to act. "What are you boys waiting for?" she shouted impatiently.

Henryk snapped into action. "You heard the woman. Edward, are you ready?"

Ed let out another sigh and closed his eyes for a brief moment, battling his claustrophobia. His ancestors had once gone to battle with great weapons and navigated the galaxy in an age of strife. Now, as the last of his lineage, he grappled with a fear of tight spaces. Despite his anxiety, he steeled himself for what lay ahead. "Ready!" he shouted with wide eyes.

The door whisked open, and Ed sprung into action, clutching the bars with an iron grip. His legs bent awkwardly above his head as he braced for the leap into the vast emptiness of space. His breath quickened as he was thrust back into the vacuum, his body momentarily transformed from an eighteen-year-old to a frightened boy.

A whirlwind of images and harsh memories enveloped him. He witnessed the death of a planet, saw the red world burn beneath his feet. His mother's lifeless form floated in the expanse, her features grotesquely distorted, her eyes wide and bloated. Amid the chaos, he glimpsed the lone visage of a colossal 'warcasket' in the distance. This war machine stood tall, eclipsing all others before or after its construction—the Arc of Mars, a testament to the last sons' dreams of their birthright and the impending conflict.

The boy saw a looming war on the horizon, a future where worlds would burn, and the lives of friends and foes alike would be lost. He didn't know the specifics of what was to come, but he felt the weight of that uncertain future bearing down on him.

Ed didn't even realize that his hands had slipped, and he was hurled into the unrelenting expanse of space, limbs flailing without control. His helmet muffled a scream that echoed within it, but the panic in his movements was unmistakable.

"Shut up!" Henryk's voice came sharply, breaking through the chaos.

But Ed couldn't heed the command. His limbs fought the emptiness, as if he could swim or claw his way back to safety. "Piper!" he cried out, the name strangled by the suffocating void.

The cold metal of the ship collided with Ed, wrenching him back and sending his eyes wide with terror. Desperation drove him to grasp at rods and bars, but they offered no salvation. Just as a wild scream threatened to burst from him, Piper appeared, her arms encircling him tightly, arresting their erratic trajectory.

Silenced by the shock of his near escape, Ed clung to the bars, regaining his composure as the trio resumed their course. Gasping for air, Piper, Ed, and Henryk clung to life within their metal coffins, their breaths matching the rhythmic tremors of the vessel.

Logan's voice, agitated and exasperated, sliced through the intercom. "What the hell was that? Do you simple lowlifes have no knowledge of how to execute a space leap? You lot shouldn't even be in this academy!"

"Shut up, Logan!" Piper retorted with a sharpness in her tone, though Logan's words were edged with resentment. He finally relented, shaking his head, and the tense silence settled between them.

"Okay," Piper said, her voice quivering slightly. She gripped the bar before her with a white-knuckled grip, her other hand still heavy with the touch of Ed's spacesuit. "Are you okay?"

Ed's pride remained unyielding, and he brushed her hand aside. "Thank you, but I'm fine," he replied, his pride masking the shiver that coursed through him.

Piper wanted to say more, to offer reassurance or perhaps apologize, but time was slipping away, and they could ill afford further delays. They heard the ominous sound of metal grating against metal, their eyes drawn to the panels of shielding on the shuttle as they tore away and scattered into the abyss.

"What is that?" Piper queried, her voice tinged with unease.

"Gravity disturbances," Henryk explained, urgency etched in his tone. "It's getting worse than I thought."

Piper pressed for answers, "How long do we have?"

Now alone in the vast expanse of space, Henryk's eyes began to glow, a lighter shade overtaking them. "Five minutes," he replied, voice firm. "They are deeper within the vessel, and from what I can see, you'll have to find a way in."

Piper nodded, and Ed followed her lead. They navigated through the broken pipes and openings, Piper reaching the ruined airlock door and initiating the emergency protocols. In a matter of moments, they were inside, ready to confront the challenges that lay ahead.

The intercom, driven to life by its automated logic, emitted a recurring feminine voice that resonated through the airlock, blaring, "Purification," in eerie repetition. Cyclones of artificial air spiraled within the confined space. Piper, her voice tinged with distrust, declared, "Don't take off anything. Even though it's claiming that this area is cleansed, don't buy it. These damn machines, the whole shuttle's falling apart, and it's still going through its robotic rituals."

As the grinding door swung open, revealing the unlit abyss of the ruined space shuttle, Piper flashed a knowing grin. "Told you," she quipped, her smirk cutting through the grim atmosphere.

"Are you guys in?" Henryk's voice pierced the tension, edged with urgency. "Logan and I are cutting through anything that gets too close to you, but you guys need to leave, like right now."

"We're in," Piper affirmed into the intercom, but her wary eyes darted in every direction. Three adjacent hallways branched out before them. "Do any of you have an idea where we should be heading, or some sort of beacon to follow?"

Piper's question hung in the air, echoing in silence, before Henryk's voice once again infiltrated her consciousness. It was as if it came from the intercom, yet it felt strangely internal. Piper's eyes shifted from a pale azure to a deep, oceanic blue as she leaned against the wall, her limbs feeling weak and her head heavy.

"What...is this?" she gasped, her voice trembling. She could hear Henryk's response, almost a whisper within her mind, guiding her. "Keep heading down that hallway, and there's a door on the other side. Knock on it and identify yourselves as a rescue team. Be cautious, there's someone inside who's frightened and scared."

Piper was about to reply, but the intercom abruptly cut off. The whole exchange had unfolded in mere seconds, leaving Piper bewildered, her senses returning as she shook off the daze. Her weariness from the duel had been compounded by this unexpected twist.

Shoving aside the disorienting thoughts, Piper focused on the door and joined Ed in pounding on the grating. "Where are we going?" Ed questioned with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "How do you know where to go?"

Piper, her frustration building, didn't have time to offer an explanation. The urgency of their situation demanded immediate action. However, her silence only fueled Ed's apprehension, which was justified considering the stark contrast between their knowledge and Henryk's. But the floor beneath them was rapidly deteriorating, making any further questions seem irrelevant.

"Piper..." Ed called out her name, his voice laced with unease, as he gestured down the hall.

Within the vessel, electrical currents surged, creating a chaotic web of arcing energy. Prongs, gears, and wires were flung upward, revealing the endless expanse of space beneath their feet. Piper crashed her closed fist into the door with a resonant bang, her voice echoing through the vessel. "Rescue team!" she cried out, the urgency in her tone unmistakable.

For an agonizing moment, the world hung in limbo, wrapped in the shroud of uncertainty. Then came the mechanical symphony of the door's release, and the trio was met with the unmistakable glow of the academy's modern yellow spacesuits. Piper's initial surprise turned to shock as she recognized the emblem of her family, a lineage that held a unique distinction in the heart of the galaxy.

As they stared, bewildered, at the figure before them, a student who had ventured into the unforgiving belt, the urgency of their situation was thrust back into the forefront. "We've gotta move!" Ed's voice snapped them out of their reverie, his strong hands seizing the girls.

With Ed's guidance, they were propelled back the way they had come, the screeching cacophony of metal against metal echoing around them. The gravitational tug intensified, as if the very ship itself sought to reclaim them.

But their futile struggles against the relentless pull eventually yielded to a frantic, weightless tumble. In a chaotic swirl, they slipped into the void, their voices a chorus of terrified cries. Each of them, disoriented and dispossessed, spiraled into the unforgiving reaches of space, spiraling in separate directions.

Piper's body spread-eagled as she sought to quell the wild spinning, defying the disorienting zero-gravity that played havoc with her senses. Unlike Ed and the newfound girl who continued to shriek in the unrelenting darkness, Piper's lips remained sealed. Instead, she stared into the abyss, her gaze tracing the sparkling constellations.

Each star a pinprick in the velvety canvas, a reminder of the unattainable dreams that had drawn her away from home and family. The desire to be a hero, a pioneer, part of an age where colonization and empires were born. Yet, ambition came at a cost, especially when you ventured too far into the unknown.

In the dreams of individuals, they are the central characters, but Piper now pondered her role in the grand narrative. The girl who left behind the embrace of her family and the comforts of her home to chase the elusive dream. The universe had a way of sifting the strong from the weak, and she found herself paying the price in the unforgiving vastness of space. A place where survival depended on tenacity and the ability to endure the unknown.

Piper's thoughts shifted to Margoret, a dear friend who had entered her life in the most unexpected of ways. Her musings drifted to simpler and happier times. It was funny how clarity often came too late, just hours before one's inevitable fate—whether it be collision with an object, fiery reentry into a planet's atmosphere, or an agonizing drift through the endless expanse of the cosmos.

Tears welled up and streamed down Piper's cheeks, a single, involuntary sob escaping her. In this dire moment, she faced the stark reality of her life, the realization that she had built walls that kept friends at a distance. Save for Margoret, she had never allowed anyone to get close. Romantic connections were but a distant dream. Now, as she hurtled through space, alone and vulnerable, she couldn't escape the bitterness of her choices.

As her thoughts dipped into more painful memories, Piper recalled the haunting image of her family—her sister's tearful visage, her parents' desperate pleas. She remembered clutching her bags with selfish determination as her family's scornful glares pierced her heart. Her sister's sobs echoed in her ears, and her parents knelt, begging her to stay. But she was driven by her dreams and her own selfish desires, and she couldn't deny the ultimate price of her ambition.

In the cold void of space, a sense of despair enveloped her, and the weight of her imminent demise pressed heavily on her heart.

In the vast emptiness of space, Piper succumbed to the pull, her eyes sealing shut as she surrendered to the infinite unknown. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she prepared herself for the end. But the silence she craved was soon shattered by the persistent cacophony of shouting, echoing through her earpiece.

"Shut up!" she bellowed into her microphone, her voice a desperate plea amidst the void. "Before I die, I'd gladly appreciate it if you two would just shut up and stop screaming into my ear!"

A moment of silence hung heavy once more. But the peace was fleeting as they witnessed a distant figure hurtling their way, carving through the vacuum in a flash of electric blue streaks. Henryk and Logan, nose-diving like avenging angels, descended upon them with relentless speed.

Piper's eyes widened, and Ed's triumphant laughter mingled with the exhilaration of their improbable rescue. As the newcomers closed in, Piper watched the girl they had saved celebrate with Ed. She couldn't help but notice that Henryk's imposing mech had safely cradled both of them in its enormous, metal fingers, like a giant cradling a fragile insect in its palm.

When the duo was securely held, Henryk retracted his mech's hands, carefully cradling the rescued girl. Piper couldn't help but wonder why Henryk, now that his mission was complete, lingered. There was a subtle question in her mind – why?

Logan's towering strider mech approached Piper, and she acknowledged him with a touch of bitterness. "Hello, Logan. Nothing to say now?"

Logan released an audible sigh. "Piper, you always find something to say. You're lucky Henryk spotted you beneath the ship. Who knows what might have transpired."

Piper sneered at the suggestion. "This might have been your plan all along, huh?" she questioned, her back resting gently against the strider mech's metallic palm. She gazed intently at Logan's avian-like cockpit, her eyes narrowing.

Logan's silent response was laden with meaning. "Is it because of Henryk?"

"Henryk?" she echoed, her voice tinged with incredulity. "What's that redneck got to do with this?"

Logan contemplated her words for a moment before explaining. "Henryk stuck around to ensure your safety. He didn't want anything untoward to happen. If I hadn't saved you, he might have reported me to the authorities."

Piper managed a dry chuckle in response. "Can't blame him, can you?" she mused, and could picture the shrug in Logan's body language. "He and Edward are fresh students, still green as grass. You remember what your first day was like, and I do too."

A silence fell between them, an unexpected camaraderie forged amidst the lingering tensions. Piper may not have liked Logan for various reasons, but in that moment, she felt a peculiar connection. They came from different houses, they were rivals, yet they shared a bond formed through the crucible of shared experiences. Despite their enmity, they were both human, and that commonality held a strange allure.

Logan's voice broke through the tension like a distant thunderclap. "Henryk is a frontiersman from some backwater world, but I don't know much about Ed," he mused, trailing off into a brooding silence.

Piper observed him from her precarious perch on the mechanical fingertips against the backdrop of the blue planet. His uncharacteristic silence hung in the air, a leaden weight on their shared misadventure. "Neptune has dibs on Henryk," he finally declared.

Piper's eyes widened in sheer surprise. "What?" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of astonishment and curiosity.

Logan attempted to explain his perspective. "I understand the ways of Zephyr and the recklessness of your Mercury comrades," he began. "But I also have knowledge about the girl that Henryk just saved."

Piper's eyes briefly flared wider, only to return to their normal state seconds later. A heavy sigh escaped her, and she turned to face the towering figure of Logan's mech. "Logan, I'm not particularly invested in the politics of pilot recruitment," she confessed. "You know very well why I dispatched Simon to your faction."

Logan pressed his lips together, then ventured, "For one of your own, perhaps?"

Piper shook her head slowly. "Simon volunteered because he's in love with his girlfriend, and the girl who left Neptune has aspirations of joining our house, considering it's easier for her family to obtain citizenship on Mercury."

Logan lapsed into silence, and this unusual quiet from the brash pilot raised Piper's eyebrows. He almost sneered, and his next words were tinged with cynicism. "Both of you know exactly what Henryk and Ed have just accomplished," he acknowledged, sounding a note of wary anticipation. "Their actions will throw the houses into chaos. Leaving the transport is one thing, but saving the daughter of the planetary headmaster? That's bound to make quite the impression."

Piper held her tongue, but her mind whirred with thoughts about how she would need to brief her house's leader, Zephyr, on the turn of events. Having Henryk on Mercury was no small concern. Logan, with his reputation and renown off-world, could command respect and loyalty from the residents of Stella, but Henryk, bearing Neptune's blue colors, was a wildcard that could transform a valuable ally into a treacherous adversary.

However, now was not the time for such contemplations. "Piper?" Logan's voice called to her, closer now to the small cockpit airlock. It would be a tight squeeze, but it would save them from the tedious return to the academy.

"Yes, Logan?" Piper replied, her tone crisp.

"Did you not hear what I said when we boarded that damaged vessel?" Logan questioned, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

Piper maneuvered herself through the slender airlock, her fingers dancing across her keyboard as she navigated the tight space. "Nope," she admitted with a nonchalant shrug. "Usually, I tune you out. It's mostly either sexism or childish insults, as far as I can tell."

A laugh erupted from Logan in response, and Piper rolled her eyes, hardly amused as she continued with her tasks. "I could hear Henryk, though," she added, a hint of intrigue in her voice. "Say what you will, but I need to meet him in person and express my gratitude. I don't know how he managed it, but he pinpointed her location with uncanny accuracy. I'm not sure about his technical specs or whatever, but…"

The door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit cockpit with Logan perched in his chair. He swiveled his head toward Piper, arm draped over the seat, his brows furrowed in bafflement.

"What are you talking about?" Logan's words sliced through the air, laced with confusion.

Piper let out a derisive snort, shaking her head in disbelief. "Don't play games," she snapped. "You must've heard Henryk. He had her location down to the inch. If we'd taken any other route, Ed and I might still be intact. But that girl, she'd have..."

Logan interjected, his voice direct and disconcertingly calm. "Piper, Henryk never spoke a word to you. We lost all contact the moment you two entered that vessel, it was as if all communications had gone dark."

Piper's gaze remained locked on Logan, but for a fleeting moment, her eyes seemed to cast their sight far beyond. Out into the expanse of space, into the academy, and even deeper into the secrets harbored by the houses that directed humanity's course throughout the solar system. A brewing tempest of mysteries and dark forces churned, unknown to the unsuspecting students of the academy.

The Martians Had Come.