The next battle eventually came. And the next, and the next. Ten still didn’t change her mind.

This time was another normal mission with another normal Core, one that didn’t cut anyone’s limbs off. At its end, there were many injured Phaetons as usual, but no casualties. Even lifeform casualties were avoided.

“Now that’s how a mission is supposed to go,” said 1225, patting Hundred on the back. “You should have seen what happened right before you got here. It was absolute freaking chaos!”

“Yes, I read about it,” Hundred replied. “Another one of those thicker-than-normal Exhaust formations.”

“Yeah…we’re still wondering why that happened…”

“There was one thing in the report that confused me,” Hundred continued. “The Point captain said that she and 1310 were ‘ambushed’ by the Core.”

“Yeah, so?”

“How could that be possible? Cores don’t just appear on their own; they’re always cut out of a firewheel before they materialize. You can’t be ambushed by something that you brought out of hiding.”

“Maybe she didn’t mean ‘ambush’ literally…or maybe she did; who knows? A lot of weird stuff has been happening lately. I think a naked Core is totally in the realm of possibility now.”

“There could be a connection between it and the thicker-than-normal Exhaust formations…although, we would need more data to be sure…”

“What are you, a management Phaeton?” 1225 joked. “Well, if I see any new weird stuff, I’ll be sure to tell you. If it’ll help.”

“Thanks,” Hundred replied. 1225 left for the Finishers’ recollection vehicle.

Hundred climbed onto hers and headed for a seat in the back. A few of the Points waved to her as she walked by. Ten just glared.

Hundred sat down by herself, sighing.

None of this was going the way she’d planned.

Initially, the management of the 5th Fleet had planned to send a trio of 4-Gear Points in response to the reinforcement request. Hundred, however, had volunteered to go in their stead, all by herself.

Admiration. Notoriety. Acceptance. That’s what she had been searching for.

In a fleet as successful as the 5th, it was hard to stand out. Hundred was lucky to be one of only two 5-Gear Points in the entire fleet, second only to her captain, 43. Still, second best was second best. And no one ever gave her a second thought. She was deemed too weird, too quiet, too emotionless.

Too invisible.

Earlier that year, a popular 4-Gear had been accidentally designated to lead afternoon training instead of her. Hundred had been too embarrassed to bring it up with the management. Of course the weird 5-Gear would be overlooked and forgotten. So she decided to just accept it. A small flame burned inside of her soul, a hidden rage that never showed on her blank face.

This is no way to live, she thought to herself on that day. The first chance she got, she was getting out of there. She didn’t know where she was going to go, but she was going to go.

Before she’d had the chance to do something reckless, however, the reinforcement request had come in, and she’d decided to take advantage of it.

In the beginning, things went better than she had ever dreamed. The Points of the 1st fleet seemed to idolize her. Even Phaetons from other classes admired her. Hundred reveled in the feeling, warm and indulgent as a cup of fatty acid soup on a cold winter’s day.

Unfortunately, someone had dropped an ice cube in her hot soup: Ten.

Hundred had no idea what she had done to offend her, but it was starting to seem permanent. For days now, she’d refused to speak to her or about her outside of missions, except to say something negative.

Even more upsetting than Ten’s ire was the influence it had. She was a captain, after all. Would the other Points start to dislike her, too? The last thing Hundred needed was to have her poker face misinterpreted…soon it would start all over again…

She buried her face in her hands and took a deep breath. “Enough,” she thought to herself. “This is going to work out. It has to; there’s no other way.”

By the time she finished her ruminating, she felt the vehicle stop. The other Points stood up, and she followed suit, gripping her sword hilt for strength.

The flame burned hot.

+++

Ten got off the recol vehicle first, stretching her arms as her armor dissipated. She entered the front gate ahead of her chattering subordinates.

A little guilty voice had begun to speak to her lately, inside her head. Today it had told her that it might have noticed some kind of sad emotion in Hundred’s usually blank expression.

“I know, I know,” she thought back to it. She didn’t particularly want to antagonize Hundred; it was just…happening. And as “right” as it would be for her to apologize and try to smile and be friends, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

She was finding it hard to be friendly to anyone these days. Her mind was still full of death.

It was like a raincloud that hung over her head. She could push it away or crumple it into a ball and pretend it didn’t exist, but it always returned to full size and resumed its downpour.

She didn’t understand why this was happening to her now. She was a double-digit, one of the oldest Phaetons in existence. She had already witnessed the deaths of hundreds of others, and none of them had stuck with her the way this one had.

She guessed the reason might have been the feeling of someone else’s still-warm solvent splattered across her face. Or watching the “life” begin to drain out of those bright, innocent eyes.

Or knowing that such a young Phaeton had sacrificed herself to protect someone who should have been protecting her.

The thought hurt. She crumpled up the raincloud and threw it as far as she could.

“Oh, Ten,” said 911, coming up to her. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Sure, what about?”

“Um…let’s talk in private. ‘Kay?”

+++

911 led Ten into one of the medical supply closets and shut the door.

“So…the other day, Fifteen came up to me and said that ‘something was definitely wrong with you’,” she began. “Her words. So, since then, I’ve been observing you, and…now I can safely say that I agree with her.”

“What do you mean?” Ten asked. It came out more aggressively than she intended.

“I mean you’re all moody now. Totally different from the Ten I used to know. You don’t laugh or complain or make jokes anymore. All you do is stand around looking gloomy and muttering about Hundred…”

“I don’t mutter about her! I barely ever talk about her…except when she makes those snobby remarks…”

“Whatever; that’s not the point. The point is, something’s going on with you. You know it, I know it, everyone knows it, so what is it?”

Ten looked at the floor. She wasn’t sure how to answer.

911 leaned forward, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Look, if you need help, there’s no shame in asking for it. We could analyze your brain chemistry right now, and have a treatment ready for you tomorrow. All you have to do is say the word.”

Ten shrugged her hand away. “There’s nothing wrong with my brain. Is it that unnatural to be a little upset when someone dies?”

“You mean 1310? I…didn’t think you guys were that close…”

“Maybe we weren’t! Does that mean I should just forget about her?!”

With that, Ten threw open the door and marched out of the room. The little guilty voice began complaining straight away.

“I know, I know,” she thought back to it. 911 was definitely concerned about her now, and so was Fifteen, apparently. Which meant that all the captains were probably concerned. Soon the whole fleet would be looking at her like she was a basket case.

Something was going on with her. But she wanted to get over it by herself.

Then again, could she?? It had been almost a week, and she still felt angry and defensive and depressed all the time. Maybe, said the little voice, this is just too much for you to handle.

She stopped walking. For a second, she seriously considered turning around and begging 911 to help her.

Then she heard the alarm.

+++

“Two Exhaust formations in one day?!” 86 exclaimed. “What, was the first one too easy??”

“Well, this next one is definitely more severe,” said 404. “It has a thickness similar to the one from the other day…the one that cut off Ten’s leg.”

“So the Residue is in effect again,” said Fifteen.

“Seems so. But we’re playing it safe this time: I assigned half the fleet to this mission, with an emphasis on Limits.”

“But…that means the newbies will be out there with us,” 86 protested. “On a mission like this?”

“Controlling the Exhaust is top priority now. We can’t let it gain any more power than it already has by killing more people. As well as forming a perimeter, I want some of them in the fray, supporting the Strikers and Finishers. Newbies or not, your armor is the thickest, and we really need that kind of protection now.”

“Then emphasize the Finishers, too!” said 1225. “We’ll go for both extremes: max defense AND max power!”

“…That’s quite a gamble,” 404 mused. “I’m not sure I like the odds. If anything goes wrong, the Finishers will get demolished, and we’ll be left with nothing but defense.”

“But we’re the only ones who have the power to take out the Core before it has a chance to break our armor,” 1225 protested. “Strikers and Points will just get hurt and killed if they have to face it. I think this way is the best way to keep casualties to a minimum. The Limits and Finishers have the lowest mortality rates, after all.”

“That’s because the Points and Strikers do most of the work,” said Fifteen. “The whole reason our stats are more balanced is so we can stay in the fray and survive until it’s time for you to come in and “finish”. I’m with 404; it’s too risky.”

“Not if we go with them.”

Ten suddenly appeared at the rail station. Everyone turned to look at her at once.

She cleared her throat. “Hundred and I will go as escorts for the Finishers. With us to look after them, and the Limits to protect everyone, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

404 crossed her arms. “Ten, you and Hundred are very talented, I’ll give you that. But I don’t think just the two of you will be enough to make this plan feasible…”

“Points specialize in decisive strikes from long range. If we stay in the center of the action, we’ll be able to react to any emergency situation and diffuse it before too many Finishers get hurt. They need time to be at their most powerful, and we’ll just be there to make sure they have it.”

She materialized her armor. “We need to start trying to change our battle strategies now, while we still have options and backup available. Push ourselves to our own extremes, and see how little we can get away with. Would you like to learn to be flexible before or after the Exhaust does something we could never be prepared for?”

The group went silent. Ten mentally cursed herself: once again, her words had come out more aggressively than she had intended. But this was wartime; hopefully, they would just think she was being serious.

She turned and left for the drive rail. 404 called for Hundred over the intercom.