Of the one hundred and five, third-class Role Specialty cadets at the prestigious Mecha Military Academy, no one has tried harder to get kicked out than Damon. Of course, his attendance at the Academy was conditional and any aggressive behavior would only land him in a more dire circumstance. He knew this, therefore there was only one thing he could possibly do to try and escape this prison … for the entire year Damon did absolutely nothing.
For the first few months he hardly left his dorm and only attended class when he wanted a full meal. He was sure his behavior would bring some sort of attention to the director, but by the time four months had passed and there was still not a single word about his behavior, he was sure it was a game of endurance. That was easy enough. He decided to lose himself in books, games, and even took to painting … which he quickly found he had no skill in.
At some point, he completely forgot he was even at an Academy. In fact, when he was finally called to a meeting with the Director at the end of the year, it was the first time he had worn his uniform since it was delivered to his dorm at the beginning of the year, hand-pressed and speck-free. Now there was a thick layer of dust—casually ignored—atop his shoulders, covering the black trim and two gold bars that signified his status as a third-class Captain-in-Training Cadet.
Upon entering the Director's office Damon stood at attention, watching silently as Director Walsh studied various holodisks lined neatly atop his desk.
It took a moment, but finally the Director spoke.
"Damon formally of the Kade family: sixteen years of age, entered the Mecha Military Academy a year ago. Unmotivated, lazy, inattentive," Director Walsh tossed the holodisk he was reading onto his desk. "The list goes on, Damon."
If this was just a verbal warning, it seemed their endurance game would last quite a while longer.
"May I leave now, Sir?"
"Come on Damon, you gotta give me something. I accepted you into the Academy as a favor, but I also know full well the potential you carry." The Director sighed, "I'm changing things up this year." He opened a desk drawer and took out another four holodisks. "Our Academy is built on teamwork. Almost all our mechas require at least two people to operate, but upon graduation every student is put into a team of five and must be able to successfully operate a Paladin." Director Walsh's eyes narrowed on Damon who was still fixated on the wall behind him. "Do you know where I'm getting at, Damon?"
He had an idea where the Director was taking the conversation, but denies it to hopefully cut the conversation short. The last time he answered a similar question the Director went off on a tangent about respect, and if there's one thing he's good at—its learning from his mistakes.
"No, Sir."
"You're sixteen this year, which means moving up from role specialties to the team formation classes where teams are formed based on the roles that each student excels in. Now, usually by this time, we drop all the low, underachieving students from the Academy."
Damon blinked and the Director continued, "You're not getting out of here that easy."
Although he hoped it would actually be that easy, he knew there was another reason why the Director summoned him to his office.
Director Walsh opened one of the four holodisks on his desk and read aloud.
"Soraya Ralston: Female, sixteen years of age. Specialized in medicine. Described as intelligent, analytical, observant, kind and caring. She appears to be doing well in her classes, more so than you. However, her performance outside of the classroom is... almost nonexistent. She's apparently clumsy, extremely shy and timid, too timid to be of any use when it comes to performance lessons."
The Director closed the holodisk and opened the next one.
"Diesel, no family name: Male, seventeen years of age. Specialized in mechanics. Classroom activities are unknown; however, his performance is high... if and when he decides to participate because he has no intention of taking orders. He's been at the Academy for seven years, recruited for his talents, but lately has regressed from progress now making him expendable."
The next holodisk.
"Jax, no family name: Male, sixteen years of age. A specialized mecha operator. This kid can drive anything in ways you can't imagine. At the top of his specialty class in performance, appears and attentive for every class, but somehow still failing them all. He also never talks, except to one person."
The director held up the last holodisk.
"This one is my favorite," he said with a smile before opening it. "Lilith Reid: Female, sixteen years of age. Applied as a combat specialist." The Director smiled, "Described as stubborn, hot-tempered, loud-mouthed, impulsive, and currently holds the record for behavioral reformation sessions. She scores high in the classroom when she attends and is awake enough to participate and is also Jax's interpreter. They're apparently childhood friends."
With the last holodisk closed, Damon can sense where this was going but lets the Director continue, "Each one of these students, including yourself, are at the bottom of their specialty class. This year, instead of kicking out all the bottom rung students, I'm making them into a team."
What use would the Director want with a bunch of deadbeats?
"And if I refuse to be in a team?" asked Damon, trying to decipher the Director's objection.
"Let's talk about if you succeed first," Director Walsh smiled. "If your team wins the performance tournament this year, I'll consider your service fulfilled and you may leave the Mecha Military Academy."
Damon stifled his surprise. "You'll let me go, just like that?"
"Yes. No strings attached. If you lose though, I'm going to extend your service an extra five years after you graduate."
Another five years? The annual performance tournament is at the end of the year but if he succeeds he'll only have to be here for one more year. If he fails he'll have to put in the work to graduate as soon as possible and commit an extra five years. It's a win-win for the Director who was obviously determined to see his true potential.
He thought about it. It's possible ... even with this team.
"I'll do it," said Damon.
"You seem confident. Are you sure you don't want to take some time to think about it? Once you agree, there's no going back."
He nodded, "I'll do it."
"Okay then."
The Director held out his hand and Damon shook it with a firm, deal-binding shake.
"I only have to win the performance tournament, right?"
"Yes. However, only combat specialists are able to represent their team in the final combat round."
"Then I'll just work with my CS and come up with a plan."
Director Walsh laughed. "Did I forget to mention?"
"Mention what?" asked Damon, now slightly hesitant.
The Director laughed again, "Lilith Reid has no combat experience."