Dynamis | Chapter 1 - Opposition (Patreon)

Beads of sweat collected on Karl’s forehead as he stared at the barrage of missiles soaring toward him. As the muffled hiss of ignited fuel met his ear, he squinted and battled against his fear of death, gripping the armrests of his seat. He punched his bicep in hopes of snapping him out of it, but all it did was hurt him.

Damn it, move! he thought. Move or you’re dead!

A violent force struck his seat from behind, jolting him from his thoughts. His breath hitched and he looked over his shoulder at the girl who’d kicked his seat. “What the hell are you doing, dumbass?” Lilibelle shrieked. “Use the MT system before you get us both killed!”

He licked his lips and pressed the bright green button to his right. The system responded with a click, and he pulled the hand lever beside the button. The mechanisms whirred while the screen lit up with more than a dozen indicators, each of them the shape of neon green targeting boxes. They highlighted the incoming missiles. Lasers of the same neon green flashed at his sides, expertly targeting each of the missiles. Digitized explosions followed, and the cockpit shook while a warning indicating low energy reserves flashed at the bottom for the third time.

“The Cross Saber! Now!” Lilibelle screeched from behind him.

“For the third time, no! We can’t! If we—”

“Just shut the hell up and listen to me! Do you want to pass or not?”

“Of course I do!” he shouted. “But that’s going to blow through the rest of our reserves!”

Lilibelle struck the back of his seat again. One more time and he’d toss the buckles off and throw hands. “Stop thinking! Just pull out the saber and make it happen!”

Reasoning with her was a waste of time once she had her mind set on something. If they failed now, he’d make sure to file a detailed report on her behavior. For the time being, though, he’d listen. He slid his finger down a groove beside the MT targeting button. The warning message that energy was dangerously low flashed for the fourth time, so he flipped the switch that managed the indicators, and the warning disappeared. Moments later, the system responded. The Dynamic Frame’s digitized arm retrieved the Cross Saber holstered at its side, drawing a wave of green across the screen.

“About damn time,” Lilibelle remarked. “Now, watch and learn.”

The enemy unit on screen suddenly ignited its boosters, veering to its left to flank them. Karl quickly disabled the automated turning function associated with the targeting system, and adjusted the screen ninety degrees to accommodate. Lilibelle’s cackle filled the cockpit.

“Aww yeah, now get a taste of this!” Lilibelle’s aggressive tendencies bordered on violent, but at least she was on his side. With each maneuver she made, the headache Karl suffered intensified to such a state that he was convinced his brain was swelling larger than the confines of his skull. As Lilibelle closed the distance, Karl continued to observe and adjust the energy levels as appropriate. Lilibelle would be angry at him for that later, but if they were going in until their reserves were gone, that’d reflect poorly in their report. 

The Cross Saber Lilibelle spoke fondly of flashed across the screen, screeching through the air at a horizontal arc and slicing the enemy DF in half like butter. “Yeah! Bite me, bitch!”

Karl rolled his eyes, grateful that she didn’t seem to notice the adjustments he made. The screen went black as the lights dimmed and the system’s hums descended, indicating shutdown. He leaned back as a bright white light framed a section of the cockpit to his side. The door hissed open, and the weathered Professor Gerald Almezer put one foot on the rim.

“Good job, kiddos,” Gerald said. He draped his elbow over his knee. “We’ll discuss your results at the end.”

“Yes, sir,” Karl said. “I think this time was much more—”

“Why am I being paired up with a meek piece of white bread like him?” Lilibelle spat as she unbuckled herself. The belts clinked as she threw them off of her shoulders and shot to her feet. Karl mentally prepared himself as he turned around to face her. Blonde pigtails tied by black ribbons framed an alabaster face inlaid with piercing red eyes. She wore a black-and-red neurosuit—a type of skin-tight bodysuit that linked the conductors’s nerves to the DF interface—and tapped the ball of her foot. “You’re a hindrance.”

“I’m the hindrance?” Karl snapped. “Okay, well, I’ll remember that when we’re in a real combat scenario and sitting in the middle of nowhere without fuel. Tell me, how do you plan on getting back to headquarters after that display?” This was the second time in as many tests this week that she’d found something to pin on him. “Or, is that somehow my fault as well?”

“They wouldn’t just leave us stranded out there,” Lilibelle screamed, throwing her arms into the air. “They’d have our coordinates! Our parameters! We’re too valuable! And besides, when faced with a threat like that, would you rather just give up?”

“I didn’t say that,” he said slowly, enunciating each word. “What I would do is conserve energy by reducing the output and rely on shell-based weaponry instead.”

“And risk wasting more energy trying to hit our target when the Cross Saber can wipe it out in a single attack? When the systems shut down, are you going to jump out and start firing your pistol too? We were facing a DF just as strong and capable as us. Every attack counts. Or did you forget that small detail?”

“I must have,” he said, making no attempt to hide his sarcasm, “because clearly, blowing through all of our energy so that we can sit there like a pair of idiots, waiting for the Fiends to finish off what the DF started is preferable.” He scoffed and shook his head. “Even if we got away, there’s repair costs, fuel, ammunition, all of which gets docked from our pay.” Then he added, in a mocking tone, “Or did you forget that?”

“Hey, let’s ease up, all right?” Gerald said, gesturing with his hands. “I’m sure if we just talk—”

“Piss off, Karl.” Lilibelle marched out of the egg-shaped room, brushing past the professor.

“See you at lunch!” Karl said, waving mockingly.

The professor gaped. “You think taunting her is going to make this any better?”

“Why not? She wants a fight? I’ll fight.”

“Aye yai yai…”

“Is she always like this, or am I a special case?” he spat as he undid the buckles to his seat and stood. His neurosuit squeaked with his movement, and he rubbed his temples to alleviate the headache. Whether it was a fault of the DF simulation, Lilibelle, or a mixture of the two, he couldn’t tell.

Gerald drew a deep breath, then pocketed his hands into his white lab coat. “I can’t take sides, kiddo. But is there anything preventing you from being more proactive? There were many times you hesitated when Miss Katsun requested a weapon.”

He looked down at his palms. He was still shaking. “Fighting is a lot scarier than I thought it would be. I know that most of the time I’ll be fighting Fiends, but the idea of fighting another Frame scares the hell out of me.” Balling his hands, he averted his gaze and wondered if Lilibelle even had a soul. “Lilibelle can’t wait to start wreaking havoc. I’m afraid that she might get us killed in the process.”

“That’s a reasonable fear to have. A lot of conductors struggle with that when they’re new.” Gerald gestured for Karl to exit. As soon as he did, Gerald put a hand on his shoulder and waved the next pair over for testing.

“I don’t want to be new, I want to be good.”

“Have you talked to Doctor Strobar about this? Maybe she could help you two mend your differences.”

“I… doubt she can help.”

Gerald cackled. “Boy, that’s her job. If she can’t help you, then there’s nothing to be done.” He gently pushed Karl forward and offered a casual wave. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m on a tight schedule and I’m too old to solve social issues between teenagers. I’ll see you during the next simulation.”

Karl watched as Gerald greeted the next pair as if their conversation had never transpired. Mercenary life was taking some getting used to. He’d expected a warmer reception from Gerald Almezer, but all he’d done was refer him to another.

He sighed. I guess I’ll be talking to Strobar about this.