The next day, Ten woke up late. By the time she looked at her watch, it was already almost midday.

404 appeared at the door to the repository just as she crawled out of her pod. “We turned off your alarm,” she said. “After the day you had yesterday, we figured you needed your rest.”

She held out a bottle of sugar water. “Here, breakfast.”

Ten took the bottle and guzzled down half of it before stopping to take a breath. She had missed dinner the night before, and just realized how hungry she was. “What happened with morning training?” she asked, licking her lips.

“843 took care of it. By the way, I have some great news for you~.”

“I could use some…”

“Okay, well, I ordered up those reinforcements like I said I would…and she’s arriving today!”

“She? There’s only one…?”

“There only needs to be one! Because, she—”

“Calling 404 to the front gate,” said a voice over the intercom. “Repeat, 404, please come to the front gate. All other Phaetons, please gather on the training grounds.”

404 turned to leave. “She must be here already! I have to go, but just head to the training grounds and you’ll understand soon enough.”

+++

Ten eventually made it outside, where a crowd of Phaetons was waiting on the training grounds, chatting noisily.

When they saw her come out, they started to cheer, but quickly stopped as soon as they recognized her. “Oh, it’s just Ten,” she heard someone say.

“Hey, Ten!” called 1552. “Did you hear the news?”

“I’m the reason for the news,” replied Ten, joining her fellow captains. “A new Phaeton is coming because 404 requested reinforcements on my behalf.”

“I hear she’s a powerhouse,” said 86. “That’s why she came alone, apparently.”

“In that case, she must have come from the 5th or 13th Fleet. They’re both nearby and doing quite well,” Fifteen observed.

Suddenly, the cheers started up again, and this time they didn’t stop. 404 had come out of the facility doors, and standing next to her was the new Phaeton.

Her hair was pale, and pinned to one side of her head. She was fully armored, and her Engine idled quietly as she stood. She looked out at the crowd with an imposing stare.

404 put a hand on her shoulder. “Phaetons, this is Hundred. She’s from the 5th Fleet, which takes care of the E Sectors. Her rank is…5-Gear.”

The Phaetons murmured excitedly among themselves. 5-Gear was the highest possible rank.

“So…you’re a captain?” 86 ventured.

“No. My fleet already has a Point Captain,” said Hundred. “Although, if she ever dies, I suppose I’d take her place.”

More murmuring ensued. 5-Gear, without even being a captain??

“Your fleet must be really something,” said 1225. “With our Gear distribution, it’d be a miracle for us to have extra 5-Gears lying around.”

“I know. I read all about you. 1.5% 5-Gears, 0.5% 4-Gears, 20% 3-Gears, 24% 2-Gears, and a concerning 54% 1-Gear or less…”

“We’re doing the best we can!” Ten snapped. “Maybe your fleet is lucky enough to have fewer casualties, but that doesn’t mean you get to look down on us!”

Her outburst was followed by an awkward silence.

“…I wasn’t trying to offend you,” said Hundred. “Having half your fleet as 1-Gear or less is legitimately concerning. After all, the greener the fleet, the higher the casualty rate, and eventually you end up with a sort of slippery slope scenario.”

She unsheathed her sword with dramatic flair. “It is up to us, the higher-ranked Phaetons, to protect and guide the lower-ranked ones, so that they may one day match us in skill and strength. I vow that I will not return to the 5th until this fleet is at least 50% 3-Gears!”

She turned on her heel and walked back into the building, followed closely by the cheers of a few dozen new fans.

+++

An hour later, the four captains were seated in the courtyard, having lunch.

“I think she’s cool. But serious, too. She’s like Fifteen, but with more charisma.” 1225 said, popping a sugar candy into her mouth.

Fifteen glared. “Charisma is meaningless in the thick of battle. At the end of the day, your soldiers will thank you for keeping them alive, not for how good you made them feel.”

“I dunno…when everything looks hopeless, charisma is what keeps the kids on their feet,” said 86. “This Hundred girl, she’s got what it takes. I can feel it. What do you think, Ten?”

“I don’t like her.”

Ten stared bleakly into her water bottle. “It’s like she thinks she’s our savior or something. Like, now that she’s here, everything will get turned around. I have half a mind to tell her about the Residue and burst her bubble…”

“Ten, don’t,” said 86. “The fewer people who know about that, the better. We can’t afford to tank the morale of the entire fleet, or worse, every fleet on the planet…”

“Besides, if we can bring our 3-Gear percentage up to 50, we might just be able to handle it,” said 1225. “Imagine…half the fleet, eligible as on-call for every single mission…it sounds like heaven~.”

Ten rose from her chair. “Whatever. Just don’t get too disappointed when she eventually quits.”

“It’s not in my nature to quit.”

Hundred suddenly appeared at their table.

Ten turned to look at her. “Really? You’d be okay with having to stay here for years, trying to make good on that promise?”

“If it took me years to get the 3-Gear percentage up to just 50%, then I’d say I deserved every minute of it,” Hundred replied. “Furthermore, it would go to show just how much you need my help.”

“Oh yeah. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” Ten muttered, storming off.

Hundred watched her go. Then she turned to the other captains. “Does your Point Captain usually have such a large chip on her shoulder…?” she asked.

“Ten is…going through a hard time,” 86 explained. “She’s been really worn out with all the new recruits, and just yesterday she lost one of them on a mission. The poor girl was barely 2 weeks old…”

She sipped her drink. “…And, of course, she’s obviously jealous of you. So there’s that.”

“She probably didn’t expect them to send over another 5-Gear Point when she asked for reinforcements,” 1225 sneered.

“I’m sure she’ll go back to normal after the next Exhaust formation,” said Fifteen. “There’s nothing like a good battle to straighten out one’s priorities.”

Hundred nodded. “I understand.”