Mission 16 – Oames

  TA419 - 21/04, Morning of Phase 3,

  Remembrance Heavy-Cruiser Class, Palladium - Pilot Recreational Room.

  Oames Agitate was born in a broken world. She was barely eleven when her home planet declared war on The States Union. Only fourteen when that war ended in defeat, and her people became slaves. But young or not, she was unlike the pitiful masses in need of help that couldn’t come. Her mother was a dignified and equally graceful Vi-Countess. Her father was foremost among the great Abhailen warlords. Oames was born into a broken world, but she had every tool to fix it.

  She first stepped aboard a warship a year before the war began, her father showing her off like his most prized treasure. Her upbringing had always involved soldiers and nobles. Abhaile hadn’t spontaneously gone to war, and her family had been in the thick of the build-up to it. A year into the war, at age twelve, she was certified as a True Magi - a test result so strong the woeful equipment used seemed unable to compute it properly - another tool in her belt.

  By fifteen, she had found herself within the frozen Isles of Rememberence’s borders. She wasted no time; her education accelerated as was, and now she would hone her tools of war. By seventeen, she was a qualified officer, but that wasn’t enough. Her father thankfully agreed.

  Now, she was a pilot cadet. It was the last thing she believed herself to need. She had the knowledge, the birthright and training to lead men, the supernatural Magi ability - she needed only the personal strength to crush any who would stand in her way, and then she would be ready to start fixing it all.

  Right now, however, Oames had obstacles. She had had a terrible dream, and worse yet, the same old final hurdle stood in Oames Agitate’s way: a truly monstrous woman. At first, she had trained like any other cadet, even receiving some lessons from the fifth-ranked - but Sesha had found her too special and advised she have a personal tutor.

  The Scarlet Scourge did not seem to care who Oames was; about her inheritance or abilities. She was a brash, poorly spoken, lowborn woman with no class or dignity whatsoever, yet Oames couldn’t beat her.

  They sparred as often as possible, Oames constantly asking for more training, for more bouts even as their ships now raged in an ongoing guerrilla war. And she just couldn’t beat this one blasted, insufferable ordinary woman. A woman so aggressively normal, Oames could sense it; the absence of Magi potential in The Scourge was so pronounced, so void, that it stood out to the young prodigy more than a Magi on her own level would have. And yet this ordinary woman, with no heritage, ability, or anything, she just couldn’t beat.

  The final hurdle on her path was indeed a momentous one.

  "Come on, Boss, you too, Boss-Boss's kiddo," Lt.Jasta called with a grin on his weatherbeaten old face. It gaining him only frowns from both women in question.

  "Don't call me something so juvenile executive officer," Oames replied with a glare, prompting the other pilots to laugh good-naturedly.

  "Photo is regulation, ladies," Lt.Manfred added.

  "It's such a red flag, though!" Scarlet and Oames said in near unison.

  There was a long pause as the two craned to stare at each other before the entire room erupted with laughter.

  "Alright, Alright, I can't deny it after that, come ‘ere you, y'all gather around," Scarlet laughed, slinging her arms around Oames’s shoulder as an older sister might.

  "Hey, what? I didn't agree to this. Stop pawing at me, woman!" Oames screeched, though her struggling was clearly in vain.

  The battalion slowly formed up; Manfred was instructed to stop hiding behind the camera and set it on a timer, and at last, a photo of the whole unit - including its solitary ‘cadet’ - was taken.

  Cheers rose, and even Oames began to realise the team-boosting effect of the exercise despite her misgivings.

  She slinked over to Scarlet, "Ma'am, can I talk privately with you?"

  "Huh? Sure, why not, you wanna get a copy of the photo without the others knowing?"

  Oames held back a cringe, "...Something like that."

  ‘That did not go well…’ Oames assessed quietly. She had told Scarlet of her dream; she had made her request. The Scourge had rebuffed her. She wished, deeply desired, that The Scouge hadn’t believed her. She could have lived with that, with it just being the ignorance of a foolish woman. But Scarlet had seemingly believed her every word, been in no doubt Oames was telling the truth and had such a power. And even so, she’d refused her request. What benign insanity was that?

  She was making her way through the rather narrow corridors of the Palladium. For a cruiser class, it was a small ship inside, with tight corridors and small barracks - a laughable tiny runway with a hangar that could hardly be called suitable for five mechs. It took four of this class of ship just to carry Scarlet’s complete battalion - they needed to phase such a poor warship out of service, in Oames’s opinion. Use them as target practice or remotely ram them into enemy vessels. They were certainly unsuitable accommodation for someone of her standing.

  Their small internals at least made the triangular cruisers quick to move through; she was already at the hangar five minutes after storming out of Scarlet’s pathetic excuse for an office.

  This wasn’t running away; had anyone asked, she would have been very clear about that. You couldn’t reason with a gorilla in woman’s clothing. She would take this vital information to her father. To do that, she would borrow a shuttle and go over to the flagship. That wasn’t running away; it was commuting.

  Logically, someone should have stopped her. She was the Admiral’s sole family, which made her an asset. They knew TSU had spies; her father had executed some. What was to stop one from taking her hostage? But that wasn’t how her Father thought. He wasn’t a genuine schemer or paranoia type. He was a warlord of the oldest, most primal tribal leader variety. Someone who led from the front, whose power came from an unflinching loyalty of his troops. She didn’t hate that. There was nothing wrong with that; it had its place - but as the leader of a terrorist organisation?

  Most didn’t phrase it like that, but Oames was not so fragile; she knew what they were and felt inclined to have no shame about it. They had no country, no flag to rally with them. They killed civilians to disrupt trust and supply lines. They fought underhanded to make up for inferior numbers. It was correct and logical to her. But being led by a ‘good man’, that was wrong. It was only thanks to him they’d made it. Kigen was a true terrorist leader, someone who emanated such remorse and yet never hesitated. They were lucky to have him, lucky he was a true patriot who cared more for his country than petty honour. To Oames, Kigen was Remembrance itself.

  But she wouldn’t go to him, not yet, at least. Her father was unsuited for his role, perhaps, but he was still a fantastic field general. He wouldn’t shun her; if she had to, she could lean on his weak sentimentality for his ‘little girl’.

  If even that failed… Kigen would not fail her. If he did, what then? She knew the answer to that: there was no one else to turn to. She’d just have to watch the dream happen for real. But that wouldn’t come to pass. Kiyo Kigen was to be hers.

  Oames Agitate had known that for a long time. The Kigen and Agitate clans had a relationship much older than just as the dual leaders of Remembrance. Their lands bordered Abhiale’s royal capital on either side. They had always been the two families considered the King’s closest servants.

  She’d met Kigen as just a girl. She’d been foolish back then, she knew, swayed by the much older teenager’s (already nearly at adulthood) handsome features, his dedication to swordsmanship, and the way he talked to her softly but as an equal. They’d been little comrades, the eldest heirs of their houses. She’d felt a deep kinship.

  That meant nothing now, of course. The whims of a child were irrelevant without question. Now, she looked to him as something much more - the dark weariness in his eyes, the lines of stress and hardship etched into his face. The utter weight of sin dragging his soul down, and yet still he strode forward. He’d acted as though he didn’t know her when they met again on the flagship’s bridge a couple of months ago. That was right and proper, to her. She was nothing like that little girl dressed in frilly finery anymore, and he had long seized being a bright-eyed teen following misguided warrior’s pride. It was appropriate how they were starting fresh like this, a little act of courtship in its way. He would never betray her.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  But first, her father, he too would see sense. The Scourge was just an uncouth fool. Her dream would be heeded. She was sure.

  TA419 - 21/04, Morning of Phase 3,

  Remembrance Flagship ‘His Majesty’s Axe’, Hangar Bay Access Corridor.

  "Squad assembly in five, Sir," Lt. Benson called from the entrance to the hangar bay,

  "Roger that; good work as always," Kigen said back, offering his long-time companion a firm nod. It was time; no more waiting, no more dishonourable delays. No more endless thinking. Today was the day.

  Standing in a narrow corridor just off the hangar bay, Kigen took a last moment of peace before striding forward until a young voice called out behind him, "Commodore, Sir!" Oames Agatite called.

  Kigen waved on the lieutenant, who nodded and continued out of the corridor. Turning, he faced the memorable cadet, "Omaes, I didn't expect to see you here today."

  She stopped a couple of feet from him. Clearly, she'd been running of all things, probably some distance to be so out of breath; "Sir, I- I wanted to speak with you."

  "With me," he raised an eyebrow at that, "No problem, but this is rather inopportune timing if you don’t mind my saying. Should you even be on this ship?"

  "That's exactly it!” Oames spluttered, checks hot. She’d never looked so flustered to him before, “The Admiral, Scarlet, no one will listen to me; they all want to send me away - but Sir, you must!"

  Kigen's frown deepened, "Oames, you’re still in training. If two senior officers have already given you orders, you can't possibly think I would undermine their authority?"

  The young girl blanched but, finally catching her breath and regaining her usual poise, held firm no less, "Training? Sir, with respect, I have more training than anyone in your regiment!

  While I'm grateful for it, my father has utterly abused his position to have me not only pass the officer academy with the highest marks on record but to train as a pilot with The Scourge and The Bedwin. As he and I both planned, I am more than ready to be deployed for real."

  Kigen paused; that was probably true. He remembered Scarlet's comments about the girl’s talent, too. Even so, "You have your order, Oames, don't ruin a career as bright as yours by defying them. If something were to go wrong today, it would be people like you we would be relying on to pick up the torch."

  "But I can see the future!" the young woman roared, her fists clenched, taking a half-conscious step forward as she did.

  "You what?"

  The girl clenched her fists, clearly utterly frustrated, at her wit's end, having this conversation for the third time, still to no avail, "I see glimpses of the future in my dreams. I don't just read people's intent or emotions like Sesha. I can see battles in advance! It's not exact; I don't see every day in detail, but I've seen today. I know something will go wrong, but if you let me come, I can change that. I’m sure of it!

  It wasn't without precedence, Kigen knew; standing in that narrow, dimly lit corridor just two metres between them, he knew she might have been right.

  Two soldiers appeared at the other end, and, guessing their purpose, Kigen raised a hand. They got the message, not leaving but staying a few metres away - clearly he'd been right to say Oames shouldn't even be on this ship and that she’d been running very hard indeed.

  She was staring at the floor now, her utter defeat evident. It reminded him of when she'd blushed the first time they met, embarrassed by her doting father.

  He walked over and gently laid a hand on each shoulder, "Oames, you're still young. You still blush at your dad's compliments, still protest at the pampering of your older squadmates, at Scarlet’s teasing. I believe you. I promise I will do everything I can to counter whatever you’ve seen out there, but your duty is to be safe--" he stopped, realising the girl was no longer listening.

  To his horror, that cold glare from the day of the firing squad shot up to stare him down; "Embarresed?! You think I was embarrassed?! I was ashamed, appalled by the Admiral's lack of professionalism, not embarrassed. And those pilots, whose lack of discipline ranks only second to their leader, that woman's inability to act her position with any dignity!

  You disappoint me, Bane of Konpei; I thought you at least would understand me. I thought we already understood each other and always had. You're kind. I knew that, I appreciated that, and I wanted that in my husband, but this level of naivety from the great ace?"

  Even Kigen felt his perpetual cool slip at this tirade. She hadn’t made any move to remove his hands; instead, it was he who found himself almost stumbling backwards. Who even was this girl, who spoke such things to him under those steely golden eyes, "What in blazes are you on about?"

  "Hum? Keep up man, obviously, we are to be wed. I am the next queen of Abhaile, and I will need a people's champion like you at my side. You didn't realise that?" she stared at him as though this had always been a self-evident fact, a complete given between them, something established years before their first meeting a couple of months ago.

  "You’re delusional! I hardly know you. I'm twice your age, girl!" the Great Ace said dumbly.

  Oames looked genuinely confused. At what part exactly, Kigen wondered.

  "So? Ah, right, you desire heirs, yes? A desire so opaque you could stamp it on your forehead, but not a bad desire given our positions. Don't fear; I'm quite sure we can produce offspring. Princes for the new state will be needed. I have already thought that through."

  "Y-you’re insane."

  She continued to stare at him. Her perfectly cut silky hair, her creaseless uniform barely ruffled despite her evading the guards on her tail, and her strange-slitted gold eyes. Her expression was one of utter defeat and disappointment, as though some perfect plan of hers had collapsed in a dream of all things and was now beyond repair. As thought his words were a cruel and terrible betrayal.

  In the recesses of his mind, he saw a girl in the days before all he knew was war. A frilly pink dress, hair in petite pigtails, pudgy hands pressed to weeping eyes - splayed out next to a rare Abhailen surface river, crying over something or other on an unusually sunny day - this couldn’t be that same girl? If it was, that was absurd!

  Kigen had ‘met’ her in only the loosest of terms. He had visited the Agaitate estate, sure, but the age gap, he’d been too old to be that child’s friend. He’d, at best, spoken polite greetings to a child he had barely registered was there.

  He shook his head firmly. Kiyo Kigen believed himself to be a deeply stained man, but were even the delusions of a child towards an older boy on his hands now? No more importantly, what did that child all grown up have planned? There wasn’t time for this, not right now;

  "You're returning to the Palladium, where you will be safely behind lines. I will personally see to it that your guard is doubled. We will discuss this, this 'phase' of yours, with Scarlet after the battle is over. Do you understand?

  You may not understand this yet, but let one more ace teach you a lesson this day - people are not the parts on a board you seem to think they are; nothing is certain. You have no right to belittle our soldiers or declare yourself the next queen of all things. You may be incredibly talented, skilled and educated, but you have yet to learn the humility essential to a pilot's survival. Dismissed cadet," he made sure to say 'dismissed' louder than the rest; the two guards approached, clearly having got the message.

  Oames was silent, shaking her head but nothing else. Her palpable indignation had dissipated as fast as it had appeared. Without another word, she fell in step with the two guards and began to leave.

  At the corridor's edge, she shot him one final gaze. Not one of anger or rage or entitlement, but a look of genuine sadness? Disappointment? Or perhaps the look of someone saying farewell to another on their deathbed. Kigen didn't know.

  Was this what the future looked like? He stood in the now empty corridor, hand on his face.

  Had he reacted too harshly? Was she right even? There was a cold logic to what she'd said, a union of Remembrance’s leaders through himself and the daughter of the Admiral, both people of old Abheilen nobility, both capable of being beacons of hope for a new country, rebuilding itself from the ground up. Who was to say had the war not happened, they wouldn’t have been wed as was? Political marriages were not unusual; had no war occurred, he would have needed a wife, and the Agitate clan had never been closer to the Kigen than it was now or, indeed, in the lead-up to the war. Was she right? Had this always been a destiny before him, war or not?

  No. He couldn't think like that. What future would there be if they failed and women like that were forced not just to take up the mantle of leadership at her age but to do so with such calculated, unfeeling discretion - with such insane delusion fueling them?

  They had to win, then he could worry about the woman, Oames Agitate.

  ****

  Oames stalked silently down the pathways of the flagship, her guards guiding her to a shuttle that would return her to the Palladium.

  He had betrayed her. Her father, too, had failed her. Scarlet, the Admiral, Kigen - all of them had been the same; all had claimed to believe her yet refused to let her join them. She hadn’t even got as far as telling Kigen the dream's details in the end. He had betrayed her.

  ‘No,’ she thought harshly, ‘ It was my fault; Kigen was surprised is all! With more time, were he not in a state of pre-battle readiness, that would have gone differently. He just needed more time. I should have had that stupid dream sooner! Always late, everything is always too late!’

  But she couldn’t change that. Too late, indeed. Kigen needed more time; all she could do was hope desperately that he would get it. If the dream claimed Scarlet’s life, her father’s too, she would accept it - but Kigen had to survive; he had to have more time - she needed him to have more time.

  This is not a story about Oames Agitate. As a cadet, her name was not even recorded in most records of the war’s history. It is, however, perhaps the place where Oames Agitate was truly born - and where that birth would lead her and the solar system at large - is a story for another, distant time.