Commander Tyrone Carver waits on the deck of a massive aircraft carrier, large hands clasped behind his back. His chest gleams with a rainbow of medals and not so much as a wrinkle can be seen on his dark green uniform. Armed soldiers stand at attention as four helicopters approach, touching down on separate landing pads. Four figures emerge from the transports and, one by one, make their way to stand before the imposing officer.
Four young pilots, motley in appearance and dress. Some carry duffle bags, one a rolling suitcase. The girl named Hanami Goto stares straight ahead while Chase, Reo, and Kora take in their impressive surroundings. They are somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, not a scrap of land in any direction.
“Welcome to the Floating Fortress, the most advanced mobile airbase on the planet,” the Commander booms. “I am Deputy Allied Commander for the Pacific, but you can call me Commander Carver. This carrier and every aspect of this operation are under my supervision. As you know, the four of you have been selected by your countries for our special operation codenamed ‘Aegis Drift’. You have each undergone the preliminary screening and training process, but what may have been academic or theoretical before is now very real.”
The Commander gazes intensely at each new arrival in turn. Hanami does not return eye contact.
“Regardless of where you come from, no matter what rank or status you had back home, you are all Rank 1 Pilots here. Let me be clear. You no longer serve your country, but as part of the Allied Pacific Defense Organization you serve DEMOCRACY and HUMANITY. Your countries enlisted you in this program, and, at least for now, you belong to A-PAC.”
The Commander holds out his hand expectantly to a woman in a lab coat standing next to him. She looks blankly at the open hand and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. The Commander clears his throat impatiently.
“Doctor Yi, the tablet if you would be so kind...”
“Oh! Of course, of course.” She fumbles in her lab coat and brings out a translucent black slate, handing it to the officer.
“Roll Call,” the Commander says, tapping the screen with his thick fingers. A holographic display is projected into the air above the tablet but synced with his retinas so that only he can read the text. He accesses the confidential file of Hanami Goto, including her scores in various areas of aptitude.
Name: Hanami Goto
Country: Neo Yamato
Age: 17
Height: 162 centimeters
Weight: 49 kilograms
Pilot Rank: 1
Specialization: Tactician
Assessment Scores
Athleticism – 100
Fortitude – 100
Perception – 140
Willpower – 120
General Intelligence – 150
Emotional Intelligence – 80
==REDACTED==
==REDACTED==
“Hanami Goto,” he says.
The slender, pale girl with long orange hair raises a hand but says nothing.
“Age 17. From Neo Yamato, enrolled in the prestigious Edo Defense Academy,” the Commander reads aloud. “Training specialization: Tactician. Also says you’re a world ranked shogi player. Huh.”
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Hanami says nothing.
Chase looks the orange-haired girl over. She’s kind of cute, if she didn’t have such a big stick up her butt, he thinks.
“Wait... 17?” Kora speaks up. “Isn’t that a violation of the Convention Against Child Soldiers?”
Commander Carver shoots Kora a death glare.
“For our special operation, there are certain age requirements and other… factors to consider. Doctor Yi can explain later.”
Kora grows quiet. She looks at the Commander carefully, trying to sense his underlying motives. But she can’t get a good read on him.
The Commander swipes the tablet and brings up the next file.
Name: Chase MacArthur
Country: United States of Columbia
Age: 18
Height: 180 centimeters
Weight: 82 kilograms
Pilot Rank: 1
Specialization: Ace Pilot
Assessment Scores
Athleticism – 130
Fortitude – 120
Perception – 120
Willpower – 150
General Intelligence – 100
Emotional Intelligence – 100
==REDACTED==
“Next we have Chase MacArthur.”
“Present!” Chase pipes up with a bit too much enthusiasm.
“Age 18. From the States, like me. Don’t think that will earn you any special favors. Piloting specialization. Stationed at Joint Base Crystal Harbor… substantial record of disciplinary action…” the Commander trails off, frowning at the file.
“I may have broken more than ONE record back home…” Chase laughs nervously and fidgets with the chain of a pair of dog tags hanging under his tank top.
Who does this wannabe hotshot think he is? Kora thinks, rolling her eyes.
“Moving right along, Reo Mafui’e of the Pacific Free Islands Defense Force. Training specialization, Engineering.” The Commander pulls up the file and scans the details. “And the only one of you pilots old enough to drink.”
Kora crosses her arms. Get your facts straight, Commander. The drinking age is 18 in my country.
Name: Reo Mafui’e
Country: Federation of Pacific Free Islands
Age: 21
Height: 190 centimeters
Weight: 108 kilograms
Pilot Rank: 1
Specialization: Engineering
Assessment Scores
Athleticism – 140
Fortitude – 150
Perception – 80
Willpower – 100
General Intelligence – 130
Emotional Intelligence – 120
==REDACTED==
“Great to be here,” Reo says with an easy smile. I can’t wait to get my hands dirty with all this sweet tech.
Chase looks over Reo’s hulking frame in disbelief. The guy is built like a refrigerator, he thinks. “Commander, did you forget to mention he’s like a pro linebacker or something?”
Reo shrugs his large shoulders and laughs, “We’re more fans of rugby than football where I’m from.”
The Commander clenches his jaw.
“MacArthur, you don’t need to add your two cents to everything I say.”
“Yes, sir.”
Doctor Yi chimes in, pointing to something Reo is holding.
“Mr. Mafui’e, may I ask what that is?”
Reo holds up a large metal wrench for the others to see.
“It’s my lucky wrench. I take it everywhere I go. You never know when you might need to bust some bolts.”
“Is that a tool or a melee weapon? I can’t tell,” the Commander sighs, exasperated. “Now if you all please, I would like to finish this roll call before next year!”
He pulls up the final dossier, examining the holographic text, silently cursing the metric system.
“Last but not least, Kora Saint-Shepperd.”
Name: Kora Saint-Sheppard
Country: Aotearoa
Age: 19
Height: 172 centimeters
Weight: 71 kilograms
Pilot Rank: 1
Specialization: Combat Medic
Assessment Scores
Athleticism – 120
Fortitude – 130
Perception – 100
Willpower – 140
General Intelligence – 100
Emotional Intelligence – 140
==REDACTED==
“Kora, age 19 from Aotearoa,” the Commander reads aloud.
At this, the other pilots turn to stare in surprise—even Hanami. Reo begins to say something, but Kora cuts him off.
“Yes, yes, I know,” she says. “My country is officially neutral, and pacifism is the law, literally. It is in our constitution.”
“Ms. Saint-Sheppard has bravely volunteered to serve A-PAC as a medic, with her government’s permission,” the Commander explains. “She is certified in trauma medicine.”
Mmmm, Chase thinks. Smart AND pretty. Some decent curves, and that blue hair looks good falling on her bronze shoulders like that.
Commander Carver snaps his fingers and a soldier steps forward holding a transparent storage container.
“Before we go any further, you are going to have to surrender all personal communication devices. Phones, laptops, tablets, smartwatches. Everything,” the Commander orders.
One by one, the pilots surrender their phones.
“Your identities and involvement with this program are highly classified,” Doctor Yi adds. “We’ve therefore taken the liberty of scrubbing your social media accounts, all traces of you from the net. That includes deleting your profile from no fewer than 13 different dating apps—Mr. MacArthur.”
Chase rubs the back of his neck and smiles sheepishly.
“Enough chit-chat. We need to get started,” Commander Carver says, gesturing to two massive blast doors rumbling open.